The Church the Pershings attended at LacledeThe Church the Pershings attended at LacledeThe Prairie Mound SchoolThe Prairie Mound School
The Church the Pershings attended at LacledeThe Church the Pershings attended at Laclede
The Prairie Mound SchoolThe Prairie Mound School
"Though he never sought a quarrel, young Pershing was known even at this time among his fellows as a 'game fighter,' who never acknowledged defeat. To a reporter for theKansas City Star, who was a pupil under Pershing when the general was a country school teacher at Prairie Mound, thirty-seven years ago, was recently related an incident of him as a fighting young schoolmaster. One day at the noon hour a big farmer with red sideburns rode up to the schoolhouse with a revolver in his hand. Pershing had whipped one of the farmer's children and the enraged parent intended to give the young schoolmaster a flogging.
"I remember how he rode up cursing before all the children in the schoolyard and how another boy and I ran down a gully because we were afraid. We peeked over the edge, though, and heard Pershing tell the farmer to put up his gun, get down off his horse and fight like a man.
"The farmer got down and John stripped off his coat. He was only a boy of seventeen or eighteen and slender, but he thrashed the oldfarmer soundly. And I have hated red sideburns ever since."
Through all these various experiences he was saving every penny possible, with the thought in view of the education he was determined to obtain. At last the time arrived when he and his sister departed for Kirksville, Mo., to enter the State Normal School. His father had done all in his power for him, but his main reliance now was upon himself. There he continued his former steady methodical methods, doing well, but not being looked upon as an exceptionally brilliant student. He was still the same persistent, reliable, hard-working, successful student he had formerly been.
It is not quite clear just when his decision for West Point was made. His room-mate at the State Normal School reports that it was in the spring when he and Pershing were at home in vacation time that the matter was decided. According to his recollection and report to the writer, when the two boys were at home the elder Pershing urged his son's room-mate again to enter his store as clerk. A definite answerwas postponed until the following day. "So next day I saw Pershing," he writes, "and asked him what he was going to do. He didn't know; he didn't want to teach a spring term of school; believed he would go back to Kirksville for ten weeks. And then came the West Point opportunity."
Another friend of Pershing at that time sends the following quotation from the local paper which evidently places the date at another time: "In looking over some old papers the other day, I ran across a copy of theLaclede Newsunder date of December 28th, 1881, and among other news items found the following: 'John J. Pershing will take his leave of home and friends this week for West Point, where he will enter the United States Military Academy. John will make a first-rate good-looking cadet with Uncle Sam's blue, and we trust he will ever wear it with honor to himself and the old flag which floats above him. John, here's our hand! May success crown your efforts and long life be yours.'"
In reality, however, the only confusion is betweenthe time when the thought entered Pershing's mind and the time when he entered the Military Academy.
An advertisement had appeared in the local papers concerning a competitive examination for entrance. The announcement bore the name of Congressman J. H. Barrows, the "greenback" representative of the district, formerly a Baptist minister. He was looked upon by his constituency as true and reliable, a reputation that was not without its appeal to the lads who wanted to go to West Point. It is a current report that not always had these appointments been made on merit alone and that "from $250 to $500 was the amount frequently paid to obtain them." The examination was to be conducted at Trenton, Mo., and was open to all who were eligible.
Pershing decided to try. In making this decision his sister strongly encouraged him, and was the only one of his family who was aware of his plan. His room-mate writes that Pershing urged him also to try. "No," I told him, "I didn't know that I could pass." "Well,"he said, "you'd better come and we'll take a chance. One or the other of us ought to win." I told him he had been in school three months while I had been selling goods, and that if he thought he would like it, to go, that I didn't care for it. But I should like to have the education, though I should probably stay in the army if I happened to pass. "No," he said, "I wouldn't stay in the army. There won't be a gun fired in the world for a hundred years. If there isn't, I'll study law, I guess, but I want an education and now I see how I can get it."
Eighteen took the examination and Pershing won, though by only a single point, and that was given only after he and his competitor, Higginbottom, had broken the tie by eachdiagrammingthe following sentence—"I love to run!"
Higginbottom's solution—
"I"—subject."love"—predicate."to run"—infinitive phrase qualifying themeaning of the verb.
Pershing's solution was as follows:
"I"—subject."love"—predicate,"to run"—is the object.
The commission preferred Pershing's diagram, and thus by a single point he won the competitive examination and received the appointment.
When, however, Pershing and his sister informed their mother that he had passed the best examination and was to receive the appointment to West Point, she expressed her strong disapproval of the plan to make a soldier of John. Her objections were finally overcome, and she consented, partly because she believed her boy when he said "there would not be a gun fired for a hundred years" and partly because she was even more eager than he for him to obtain a good education.
Thirty years afterward General Pershing himself wrote: "The proudest days of my life, with one exception, have come to me in connection with West Point days that stand out clear and distinct from all others. The first of thesewas the day I won my appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a competitive examination with seventeen competitors. An old friend of the family happened to be at Trenton that day and passing on the opposite side of the street called to me and said, 'John, I hear you passed with flying colors.' In all seriousness, feeling the great importance of my success, I naively replied in a loud voice, 'Yes, I did,' feeling assured that no one had ever passed such a fine examination as I had."
The Highland Military Academy.The Highland Military Academy.
United States Military Academy, West Point, N. Y.United States Military Academy, West Point, N. Y.
In spite of his success, however, Pershing was not yet ready to take up the strenuous course in the Military Academy. The work is severe and only the fittest are supposed to survive. He must have a more careful preparation in certain branches, he decided, and accordingly entered the Highland Military Academy, Highland Falls, New York, in which he continued as a student until the following June (1882). The head of the school was sincerely loved and deeply respected by his boys, and in after years General Pershing usually referred to him as "splendid old Caleb"—for"Caleb" was the title the students had bestowed upon Col. Huse.
In the military school Pershing's record is much what one who has followed his development in the preceding years would expect it to be. He was an earnest, consistent student, doing well and steadily improving in his work, without any flashes of brilliancy. He was moving not by leaps but steadily toward the education he was determined to obtain.
Those who recall him as a pupil at Highland say that he is best remembered for his physical strength and his skill as a horseman. Doubtless he had had training and experiences which were outside those which many of his classmates had shared.
At last in July, 1882, when he was not quite twenty-two years of age, Pershing became a plebe in the United States Military Academy at West Point. A part of his dream had been realized. His record shows that he still was manifesting the traits he already had displayed. Persistent, determined, methodical, a hard and steady worker, he was numbered thirty when hegraduated in his class of seventy-seven. However, his "all around" qualities were shown by the fact that in his fourth class or final year, upon the recommendation of the commandant of Cadets, he was appointed by the Superintendent of the Academy to be the senior, that is, first in rank, of all the cadet captains—an honor worth while and of which Pershing was justly proud.
His love of West Point has always been strong. He is proud of the school and proud to be counted among its graduates. Loyal in all ways he has been specially loyal to West Point. Perhaps his true feeling can be best shown by the following letter written by him when he was in far-away Mindanao. He was class president at the time and sent the letter for the twenty-fifth anniversary of the graduation of the class. Like many an "old grad" the thoughts of the writer turn affectionately to the old days. The joys and disappointments are alike remembered and General Pershing shows a slight tendency to recall an occasionalslip in the strict rules of the institution. This infraction is not upheld by him, and his friends, who are fully aware of his belief in strict discipline, will perhaps condone the slight infringement when they are aware that he records also the strict penalty which followed it. He indirectly shows that the infraction was due not to a desire to avoid a task but came of a grim determination to accomplish it.
Greeting to the Class.Headquarters, Department of Mindanao.Zamboanga, P. I.March 15, 1911.To the Class of 1886,U. S. Military Academy,West Point, New York.Dear Classmates:The announcement in the circular sent out by your committee saying that I would write a letter of greeting to be read at the class reunion imposes upon me a very pleasant obligation. It gives me an opportunity as Class President to write you collectively and to say many things that I would like to say if I were writing to each individual. Above all, however, I am permitted to feel myself a real part of thereunion. This letter shall be a heartfelt and sincere word of greeting from the opposite side of the world. I shall try to imagine myself among you around the banquet table or perhaps again in the old tower room, first floor, first division, or familiarly even in the "usual place." With this greeting I also send a word of explanation and regret for my absence, a few lines of reminiscence and pages of affection and friendship for all recorded at random.It is unfortunate indeed for me that higher authority has concluded that I should not leave my post at this time. This is a great disappointment to me. There is nothing that could equal the pleasure of meeting once more with old '86—companions of my youth, the friendship for whom is above all others the dearest and most lasting. To be again for a few hours as in the olden days at West Point with those who stood shoulder to shoulder with me and I with them through over four years, would be worth a great sacrifice. The thought makes me long for cadet days again. I would gladly go back into the corps (although of course it has gone entirely to the dogs since we were cadets) and gladly (in spite of this) go through the whole course from beginning to end to be with you all as we were then. Life meant so much to us—probably more than it ever has since—when the soul was filled to the utmost with ambition and the world was full of promise.The proudest days of my life, with one exception, have come to me in connection with West Point daysthat stand out clear and distinct from all others. The first of these was the day I won my appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a competitive examination with seventeen competitors. An old friend of the family happened to be at Trenton that day and passing on the opposite side of the street, called to me and said, "John, I hear you passed with flying colors." In all seriousness, feeling the great importance of my success, I naively replied, in a loud voice, "Yes, I did," feeling assured that no one had ever quite passed such a fine examination as I had. The next red letter day was when I was elected President of the Class of '86. I didn't know much about class presidents until the evening of our meeting to effect a class organization. To realize that a body of men for whom I had such an affectionate regard should honor me in this way was about all my equilibrium would stand. Another important day was when I made a cold max in Phil. at June examination under dear old Pete, with Arthur Murray as instructor. This was the only max I ever made in anything. I fairly floated out of the library and back to the barracks. The climax of days came when the marks were read out on graduation day in June, 1886. Little Eddy Gayle smiled when I reported five minutes later with a pair of captain's chevrons pinned on my sleeves. No honor has ever come equal to that. I look upon it in the very same light to-day as I did then. Some way these days stand out and the recollection of them has always been to me a great spur and stimulus.Cal. Huse Splendid Old CalebCal. HuseSplendid Old CalebKirksville, Mo. State Normal School.Kirksville, Mo. State Normal School.What memories come rushing forward to be recorded. It was at Colonel Huse's school, now called The Rocks, I believe, with splendid old Caleb at its head that several of us got the first idea of what we were really in for. Deshon, Frier, Winn, Andrews, Clayton, Billy Wright, Stevens, Segare and the rest of us at Caleb's used to wrestle with examinations of previous years and flyspeck page after page of stuff that we forgot completely before Plebe camp was over.This brings up a period of West Point life whose vivid impressions will be the last to fade. Marching into camp, piling bedding, policing company streets for logs or wood carelessly dropped by upper classmen, pillow fights at tattoo with Marcus Miller, sabre drawn marching up and down superintending the plebe class, policing up feathers from the general parade; light artillery drills, double timing around old Fort Clinton at morning squad drill, Wiley Bean and the sad fate of his seersucker coat; midnight dragging, and the whole summer full of events can only be mentioned in passing. No one can ever forget his first guard tour with all its preparation and perspiration. I got along all right during the day, but at night on the color line my troubles began. Of course, I was scared beyond the point of properly applying any of my orders. A few minutes after taps, ghosts of all sorts began to appear from all directions. I selected a particularly bold one and challenged according to orders, "Halt, who comes there?" At that the ghost stood still in its tracks.I then said, "Halt, who stands there?" Whereupon the ghost, who was carrying a chair, sat down. When I promptly said, "Halt, who sits there?"After plebe camp came plebe math and French. I never stood high in French and was prone to burn the midnight oil. One night Walcott and Burtley Mott came in to see me. Myroom-mate, "Lucy" Hunt, was in bed asleep. Suddenly we heard Flaxy, who was officer in charge, coming up the stairs several steps at a time. Mott sprang across the hall into his own room. I snatched the blanket from the window, turned out the light and leaped into bed, clothing and all, while Walcott seeing escape impossible, gently woke Hunt, and in a whisper said, "Lucy, may I crawl under your bed?" I paid the penalty by walking six tours of extra duty.The rest of it—yearling camp and its release from plebedom, the first appearance in the riding hall of the famous '86 New England Cavalry, furlough and the return up the Hudson on theMary Powell; second year class with its increasing responsibilities and dignity—must all be passed with slight notice. While the days were not always filled with unalloyed pleasure, to be sure, yet no matter how distasteful anything else may have been up to that time there is none of us who would not gladly live first class camp over again—summer girls, summer hops, first class privileges, possible engagements, twenty-eighth hop, and then the home stretch. As we look back from thedistance of a quarter of a century the years went by all too rapidly.The career of '86 at West Point was in many respects remarkable. There were no cliques, no dissensions and personal prejudices or selfishness, if any existed, never came to the surface. From the very day we entered, the class as a unit has always stood for the very best traditions of West Point. The spirit of old West Point existed to a higher degree in the class of '86 than in any class since the war. The West Point under Merritt, Michie and Hasbrouck was still the West Point of Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Schofield and Howard. The deep impression these great men made during their visits to West Point in our day went far to inspire us with the soldier's spirit of self-sacrifice, duty and honor. Those characteristics were carried with us into the Army and have marked the splendid career of the class during the past twenty-five years. The Class of '86 has always been known in the Army and is known to-day as a class of all-around solid men—capable of ably performing any duty and of loyally fulfilling any trust. The individual character of each man has made itself felt upon his fellows in the Army from the start. In civil life, as professional men, or as men of affairs, wherever placed the Class of '86 has always made good. Well may we congratulate ourselves upon reaching this quarter century milestone, on the achievements of the class.If I thought you would listen longer I should continue,but the evening will be full of song and reminiscence. Those of us out here will assemble at Manila and wish we were with you at West Point. It may be that age and experience will prevent a repetition of the lurid scenes enacted at the class dinner in New York in '86. Yet when you feel time turn backward and the hot blood of those days again courses through your veins, there is no telling what may happen. Still all will be for the glory of the Class and will be condoned. Then here's to the Class of '86, wives and sweethearts, children and grandchildren, your health and your success!Always affectionately,J. J. P.
Greeting to the Class.
Headquarters, Department of Mindanao.Zamboanga, P. I.March 15, 1911.
The announcement in the circular sent out by your committee saying that I would write a letter of greeting to be read at the class reunion imposes upon me a very pleasant obligation. It gives me an opportunity as Class President to write you collectively and to say many things that I would like to say if I were writing to each individual. Above all, however, I am permitted to feel myself a real part of thereunion. This letter shall be a heartfelt and sincere word of greeting from the opposite side of the world. I shall try to imagine myself among you around the banquet table or perhaps again in the old tower room, first floor, first division, or familiarly even in the "usual place." With this greeting I also send a word of explanation and regret for my absence, a few lines of reminiscence and pages of affection and friendship for all recorded at random.
It is unfortunate indeed for me that higher authority has concluded that I should not leave my post at this time. This is a great disappointment to me. There is nothing that could equal the pleasure of meeting once more with old '86—companions of my youth, the friendship for whom is above all others the dearest and most lasting. To be again for a few hours as in the olden days at West Point with those who stood shoulder to shoulder with me and I with them through over four years, would be worth a great sacrifice. The thought makes me long for cadet days again. I would gladly go back into the corps (although of course it has gone entirely to the dogs since we were cadets) and gladly (in spite of this) go through the whole course from beginning to end to be with you all as we were then. Life meant so much to us—probably more than it ever has since—when the soul was filled to the utmost with ambition and the world was full of promise.
The proudest days of my life, with one exception, have come to me in connection with West Point daysthat stand out clear and distinct from all others. The first of these was the day I won my appointment at Trenton, Missouri, in a competitive examination with seventeen competitors. An old friend of the family happened to be at Trenton that day and passing on the opposite side of the street, called to me and said, "John, I hear you passed with flying colors." In all seriousness, feeling the great importance of my success, I naively replied, in a loud voice, "Yes, I did," feeling assured that no one had ever quite passed such a fine examination as I had. The next red letter day was when I was elected President of the Class of '86. I didn't know much about class presidents until the evening of our meeting to effect a class organization. To realize that a body of men for whom I had such an affectionate regard should honor me in this way was about all my equilibrium would stand. Another important day was when I made a cold max in Phil. at June examination under dear old Pete, with Arthur Murray as instructor. This was the only max I ever made in anything. I fairly floated out of the library and back to the barracks. The climax of days came when the marks were read out on graduation day in June, 1886. Little Eddy Gayle smiled when I reported five minutes later with a pair of captain's chevrons pinned on my sleeves. No honor has ever come equal to that. I look upon it in the very same light to-day as I did then. Some way these days stand out and the recollection of them has always been to me a great spur and stimulus.
Cal. Huse Splendid Old CalebCal. HuseSplendid Old Caleb
Kirksville, Mo. State Normal School.Kirksville, Mo. State Normal School.
What memories come rushing forward to be recorded. It was at Colonel Huse's school, now called The Rocks, I believe, with splendid old Caleb at its head that several of us got the first idea of what we were really in for. Deshon, Frier, Winn, Andrews, Clayton, Billy Wright, Stevens, Segare and the rest of us at Caleb's used to wrestle with examinations of previous years and flyspeck page after page of stuff that we forgot completely before Plebe camp was over.
This brings up a period of West Point life whose vivid impressions will be the last to fade. Marching into camp, piling bedding, policing company streets for logs or wood carelessly dropped by upper classmen, pillow fights at tattoo with Marcus Miller, sabre drawn marching up and down superintending the plebe class, policing up feathers from the general parade; light artillery drills, double timing around old Fort Clinton at morning squad drill, Wiley Bean and the sad fate of his seersucker coat; midnight dragging, and the whole summer full of events can only be mentioned in passing. No one can ever forget his first guard tour with all its preparation and perspiration. I got along all right during the day, but at night on the color line my troubles began. Of course, I was scared beyond the point of properly applying any of my orders. A few minutes after taps, ghosts of all sorts began to appear from all directions. I selected a particularly bold one and challenged according to orders, "Halt, who comes there?" At that the ghost stood still in its tracks.I then said, "Halt, who stands there?" Whereupon the ghost, who was carrying a chair, sat down. When I promptly said, "Halt, who sits there?"
After plebe camp came plebe math and French. I never stood high in French and was prone to burn the midnight oil. One night Walcott and Burtley Mott came in to see me. Myroom-mate, "Lucy" Hunt, was in bed asleep. Suddenly we heard Flaxy, who was officer in charge, coming up the stairs several steps at a time. Mott sprang across the hall into his own room. I snatched the blanket from the window, turned out the light and leaped into bed, clothing and all, while Walcott seeing escape impossible, gently woke Hunt, and in a whisper said, "Lucy, may I crawl under your bed?" I paid the penalty by walking six tours of extra duty.
The rest of it—yearling camp and its release from plebedom, the first appearance in the riding hall of the famous '86 New England Cavalry, furlough and the return up the Hudson on theMary Powell; second year class with its increasing responsibilities and dignity—must all be passed with slight notice. While the days were not always filled with unalloyed pleasure, to be sure, yet no matter how distasteful anything else may have been up to that time there is none of us who would not gladly live first class camp over again—summer girls, summer hops, first class privileges, possible engagements, twenty-eighth hop, and then the home stretch. As we look back from thedistance of a quarter of a century the years went by all too rapidly.
The career of '86 at West Point was in many respects remarkable. There were no cliques, no dissensions and personal prejudices or selfishness, if any existed, never came to the surface. From the very day we entered, the class as a unit has always stood for the very best traditions of West Point. The spirit of old West Point existed to a higher degree in the class of '86 than in any class since the war. The West Point under Merritt, Michie and Hasbrouck was still the West Point of Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Schofield and Howard. The deep impression these great men made during their visits to West Point in our day went far to inspire us with the soldier's spirit of self-sacrifice, duty and honor. Those characteristics were carried with us into the Army and have marked the splendid career of the class during the past twenty-five years. The Class of '86 has always been known in the Army and is known to-day as a class of all-around solid men—capable of ably performing any duty and of loyally fulfilling any trust. The individual character of each man has made itself felt upon his fellows in the Army from the start. In civil life, as professional men, or as men of affairs, wherever placed the Class of '86 has always made good. Well may we congratulate ourselves upon reaching this quarter century milestone, on the achievements of the class.
If I thought you would listen longer I should continue,but the evening will be full of song and reminiscence. Those of us out here will assemble at Manila and wish we were with you at West Point. It may be that age and experience will prevent a repetition of the lurid scenes enacted at the class dinner in New York in '86. Yet when you feel time turn backward and the hot blood of those days again courses through your veins, there is no telling what may happen. Still all will be for the glory of the Class and will be condoned. Then here's to the Class of '86, wives and sweethearts, children and grandchildren, your health and your success!
Always affectionately,J. J. P.
Atlast the days at West Point were ended and the class of '86 was to take its place with others in the wide, wide world. To young Pershing fell the lot to be assigned to the Sixth Cavalry in the southwest, where General Miles, the successor of General Crook, was soon to bring the war against the Apaches to an end. He was then a second lieutenant.
The wily and daring leader of the redmen was commonly known as Geronimo, a medicine man and prophet of the Chiricahuas. Strictly speaking, the Indian's true name was Goyathlay, "one who yawns," but the Mexicans had nicknamed him Geronimo—the Spanish for Jerome.
This Indian was born about 1834, near the headquarters of the Gila River, in New Mexico.He was the son of Taklishim, "The Gray One." Neither the father nor the son was a chief, although Geronimo's grandfather claimed to be a chieftain without having been born to the purple or elected by the tribe.
In 1876, the Mexican authorities complained bitterly to the United States of the raids and depredations in the state of Sonora by the Chiricahua Indians with the result that it was decided by the Government to remove the tribe from their reservation on the southern border, to San Carlos, Arizona. But Geronimo, who was a natural leader, soon gathered a few of the younger chiefs about him and fled into Mexico.
Later, he was arrested and sent with his band to Ojo Caliente, New Mexico. There, apparently, thoughts of war were abandoned and the redmen became successful tillers of the soil in the San Carlos Reservation.
The Lieutenant in the FamilyThe Lieutenant in the Family
After a time, the tribe once more became restless and discontented because the Government would not help them to irrigate their lands. Just how much justice was in the claim it isimpossible now to ascertain. Other nearby lands were being watered and this favoritism, as they believed, as well as the competition of the neighboring ranches, doubtless had a strong effect on the Indians. At all events, in 1882, Geronimo was the leader of a band that was engaged in many raids in Sonora, but at last his force was surrounded and he surrendered to General George H. Crook in the Sierra Madre.
In spite of the fact that Geronimo had one of the very best farms in the entire San Carlos Reservation, the Apache leader soon was again in trouble with the United States in 1884, when attempts were made to stop the making and sale of tiswin. This was an Indian drink and highly intoxicating.
In 1884-5, Geronimo gathered and led a band of Apaches that not only terrorized the settlers in southern Arizona and New Mexico, but also the inhabitants of Sonora and Chihuahua in Mexico. General Crook was ordered to proceed against the raiders and to capture or kill the chief and his followers. The story of the war is filled with exciting deeds of daring, butthrough them all Geronimo looms as the foremost figure. His name came to inspire terror.
At last in March, 1886, a truce was made and this was followed by a conference, at which terms of surrender were agreed upon. But the wily Geronimo was not yet caught. Again with a band of his devoted followers he fled to the Sierra Madre mountains, beyond the borders of Mexico.
General Miles was now in command of the United States troops and quickly he began an energetic campaign against the Apache outlaws. This continued until August, when the war came to an end. The entire band of 340 were made prisoners and the warfare at last was ended. Geronimo and Nachi (the latter a hereditary chieftain of the tribe, though his comrade was the real leader), were sent as prisoners of war to Florida. Later they were removed to Alabama and at last were settled near Fort Sill, Oklahoma. There, Geronimo evidently concluded (and his conclusion was the more easily arrived at because he was under the continual supervision of United States soldiers)that he had had a sufficiency of war and that henceforth he was to be a man of peace. He became prosperous, and was a most cautious spender of his money.
The part which Lieutenant Pershing, a young officer fresh from West Point, had in the round-up of this campaign naturally was not of a character to bring him into great prominence. That he did his work well and that he had the full confidence of his men, however, are evidenced from the following incidents which remain among the reports of the campaign.
In the autumn maneuver in 1887, he was specially complimented by General Miles for "marching his troops with a pack train of 140 mules in 46 hours and bringing in every animal in good condition." Doubtless his early experiences in dealing with mules on a Missouri farm had stood him in good stead.
Another instance of his courage and his ability to deal with men, even at this early stage in his career, was shown when word came of the dire predicament of a score of "bad men"—horse thieves and cow-punchers—who had beensurrounded by the Indians and were threatened with the death of every one in the band unless they should be speedily rescued. The young lieutenant with his detachment not only succeeded in penetrating to their refuge, but also in saving every one of them without the loss of the life of one man, white or red. The same qualities that had been displayed in his student days were here again in evidence. His sense of duty was still strong upon him and quietly, persistently, he worked hard to do his best.
There still was work for the lieutenant on the border, for the troubles with the Indian tribes were by no means ended. His service on frontier duty at Fort Bayard, New Mexico, and in the field from July 30, 1886, to July 30, 1887, was followed by duty at Fort Stanton, New Mexico.
He went to Fort Wingate, New Mexico, in February, 1889, remaining there until September 1, 1889. He then returned to Fort Stanton to stay until September, 1890, when again he was sent to Fort Wingate.
At Fort Wingate, with the exception of a few weeks spent in scout duty, he remained until December 1, 1890, when he was transferred to take the field in the campaign against the Sioux Indians at Pine Ridge Agency, South Dakota. In February, 1891, he was stationed at Fort Niobrara, in Nebraska, only to return to the Pine Ridge Agency to take command of the Sioux Indian Scouts until July of the same year. Again he was with his troops at Fort Niobrara, remaining until August 7, 1891, when he was in command of a detachment (rifle team) en route to Fort Sheridan, Illinois. On September 25th he became Professor of Military Science and Tactics at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, Nebraska.
This brief record, however, does not cover all that the young officer was doing. Studying and at the same time working hard at his duties, he was already laying the foundations for that which later was to come. At the time, however, his future career seemed vague if not impossible. Indeed, he himself was almost convinced that war had ceased to be a threat among thenations. "There won't be a gun fired in a hundred years," he had declared to a friend when he was about to enter West Point, and the thoughts of the young officer reverted to the law for which in his younger days he had almost decided to prepare.
That he was not without suggestions and desires to improve the conditions in the army is shown by the following letter which he wrote theJournal of United States Cavalryin 1889:
[Journal of U. S. Cavalry, December, 1889.]Some Hints for Improvement.More prominence should be given to the revolver competitions and some changes might be made in the manner of conducting them. We should have a regular revolver competition and teams with competitors one from each troop held every morning, best pistol shots in the troop, and not have pistol competition supplementary to carbine competition though the two might be held at the same time and place.In connection with the army carbine competition there should be an army revolver, competitors to be selected from the various revolver teams as they are held for the army carbine competitions.Prizes for the revolver teams should be the same as those awarded to the infantry department andfor the army revolver team the same as those awarded to the infantry division teams.No good reason can be seen why dismounted revolver firing should not be held at the three ranges, 25, 50 and 75 yards, the same as for individual record in the troop. In the mounted firing, both in troops and practice competitions, no gait slower than ten miles and a half should be permitted. These changes would give a stimulus to revolver firing in the army which would bring about surprising results.J. J. Pershing,Second Lieutenant, 6th Cavalry.
[Journal of U. S. Cavalry, December, 1889.]Some Hints for Improvement.
More prominence should be given to the revolver competitions and some changes might be made in the manner of conducting them. We should have a regular revolver competition and teams with competitors one from each troop held every morning, best pistol shots in the troop, and not have pistol competition supplementary to carbine competition though the two might be held at the same time and place.
In connection with the army carbine competition there should be an army revolver, competitors to be selected from the various revolver teams as they are held for the army carbine competitions.
Prizes for the revolver teams should be the same as those awarded to the infantry department andfor the army revolver team the same as those awarded to the infantry division teams.
No good reason can be seen why dismounted revolver firing should not be held at the three ranges, 25, 50 and 75 yards, the same as for individual record in the troop. In the mounted firing, both in troops and practice competitions, no gait slower than ten miles and a half should be permitted. These changes would give a stimulus to revolver firing in the army which would bring about surprising results.
J. J. Pershing,Second Lieutenant, 6th Cavalry.
In the part which Lieutenant Pershing took against the Sioux, he was sharing conditions which were by no means slight or insignificant. The Sioux were notably brave and bold and more than once their chiefs had outgeneraled the trained white soldiers that fought them.
It is difficult to determine at this time just where to place the blame for these wars with the Sioux. The stories of the causes of the outbreak told by the Indians themselves differ radically from those which were given by certain of the whites, but whatever the true cause may have been, young Pershing had nothing todo with that. He was simply obeying orders and doing his best in the war with the redmen who already confronted him.
Sitting Bull in particular was a strong and successful fighter. Crazy Horse, a bold and able chief, had, as the Sioux believed, been treacherously seized and bayoneted by the whites. Indeed, one of their rallying cries in the campaign was, "Remember our Chief, Crazy Horse."
General George A. Custer and nearly every one of his soldiers had been killed in a battle on the plains, in which the Indian leaders had succeeded in first surrounding Custer's force. Pa-he-hors-kah-zee (Long Yellow Hair), as the redmen had named Custer, was respected and greatly feared by them and for that reason they did their utmost to shoot him first of all when he finally took his stand in the center of the hollow square, into which he formed his troops when he discovered, after the breaking out of the battle, that he and his men were nearly surrounded.
The death of General Custer greatly angeredthe whites, and it was promptly decided that once for all they would put an end to the uprisings of the strong and wily Sioux. This result, of course, was at last accomplished and in the final battle Lieutenant Pershing had his part. This battle, which the whites call Wounded Knee and the Indians term The Massacre at Wounded Knee Creek, was won when the troops finally surrounded the tepees of the redmen and then demanded that every gun should be given over.
This demand the Sioux refused, declaring that their experiences with the whites did not warrant them in making themselves entirely defenseless. They also explained that they themselves had bought and paid for every gun in the possession of the tribe.
This explanation or refusal was declared to be unsatisfactory. The command to attack quickly was given, the soldiers fired obediently and the report was made that they shot down every man, woman and child, with few exceptions, in the Indian village.
Thus the great Indian wars came to an endand whatever may have been his feelings concerning the justice of the methods employed to subdue the Sioux, Lieutenant Pershing did not speak. He was a young officer and his part was not to explain, but to obey.
In September, 1891, he became Professor of Military Science and Tactics at the University of Nebraska.
Atthe University of Nebraska the young instructor-lieutenant revolutionized his department. It is said that when first the students presented themselves before him, according to the rules of the University, for drill, their preparations were nil and their appearance was far from being prepossessing. Previously the military drill had been more or less looked upon by the student body as a somewhat necessary but negligible and irksome task. Few prepared carefully for it and all were glad when the hour ended.
Under the new instructor the change was startling and immediate—and the college boys liked it. Among the strict demands of the new instructor was one that required every studentwhen he appeared for drill to have his boots well blacked. Not only must the toes of the boots appear well, but every boy must see to it that the heels also received proper attention. Perhaps Lieutenant Pershing was interpreting for the Nebraska boys the familiar old proverb, "Black the heels of your boots."
The new professor speedily became popular, for no man is more unpopular in a student body than the teacher who weakly condones their neglect or too readily excuses their deficiencies. In spite of their protests to the contrary, they like the strict work and the fair and exacting teacher. And Pershing was liked—and liked more because he did not try to secure the goodwill of his students.
The impression which the new instructor in military tactics made upon the student body is well shown by the following statement of the director of athletics in the University at that time, who naturally coöperated with the official representative of the Government whose influence over the college boys speedily became pronounced.
"He was the finest man I ever worked with," said Best. "It is true he was mighty strict with his work, but the results he got were so good that everybody he worked with loved him for it. When he was here we had a regiment the University could be proud of. I just worshipped that man and everybody around the University felt the same about him."Usually he was mighty dignified in his work, but he had a way of getting next to the new men."The boys at the University got a surprise the first time Pershing drilled them. It had been their habit before this time to come to drill with shoes blackened or not, just as they pleased. When Pershing took hold the first thing he looked at was to see that all shoes were well blackened and that the heels looked as good as the toes. He was just that thorough-going in everything all the time."—From theNew York Times.
"He was the finest man I ever worked with," said Best. "It is true he was mighty strict with his work, but the results he got were so good that everybody he worked with loved him for it. When he was here we had a regiment the University could be proud of. I just worshipped that man and everybody around the University felt the same about him.
"Usually he was mighty dignified in his work, but he had a way of getting next to the new men.
"The boys at the University got a surprise the first time Pershing drilled them. It had been their habit before this time to come to drill with shoes blackened or not, just as they pleased. When Pershing took hold the first thing he looked at was to see that all shoes were well blackened and that the heels looked as good as the toes. He was just that thorough-going in everything all the time."—From theNew York Times.
An incident recently told by one of his students in the University of Nebraska also is illustrative of the grip the drillmaster had upon the student body.
When Lieutenant Pershing later was appointed to a new position in the Army there was keen disappointment among the students, all of whom were his strong admirers. Certain of his cadets, who had profited greatlyunder his discipline and served under his orders, got together and decided that they wanted to wear badges of some kind. Gold medals were suggested, but for obvious reasons were not selected. Then one of the cadets suggested a plan as novel as it was new, and after a hearty laugh a delegation went to Lieutenant Pershing to ask for the gift of his riding trousers.
"Good Lord!" exclaimed the astonished instructor in tactics. "What do you want of my trousers?"
The students then explained their plan. They were to cut the trousers into such small bits that both the blue of the cloth and the yellow of the border would be found in every piece. Of these little strips they would make badges—one for every cadet.
The lieutenant promptly presented his visitors with his best pair.
One of the little band in relating the incident not long ago said, "We made the badges, which as far as I know were the first service badges ever used in the United States. If I could onlybuy, borrow, beg or steal one of those badges I'd readily wear it in France by the side of my ribbon of the Spanish-American war."
With duties that were not arduous Lieutenant Pershing now not only continued his studies, particularly in strategy, but also found time to carry out the desire and plan that more or less had been in his thoughts since his boyhood—he took the course in law as it was given in the University. From this course he graduated and consequently was entitled to write another title after his name—that of Bachelor of Laws. He then was "Professor" Lieutenant John Joseph Pershing, A.B., "Esquire."
However, he was soon to become first lieutenant in the 10th U. S. Cavalry—a promotion which he received October 20, 1892. Joining his troop on October 11, 1895, he was again sent into the service with the 10th Cavalry at Fort Assinniboine, Montana, where he remained until October 16, 1896. In June and July of that year the monotony of life in the fort was varied by service in the field, where he assisted in deporting the Cree Indians.
A brief leave of absence followed this work on the frontier, but on December 17, 1896, he was assigned to duties at the Headquarters of the Army at Washington. This inside work, however, did not strongly appeal to the active young lieutenant, and in May of the following year he rejoined his regiment at Fort Assinniboine, Montana.
Here, however, his stay was to be very brief at this time. Promotion apparently had been slow, and doubtless many a time the heart of the ambitious young officer must have been somewhat heavy. The teachings of his father, however, were now bearing fruit and not for a moment did Lieutenant Pershing relax his steady, persistent labors. Whether recognition and promotion came or not he was to be prepared.
But the quiet, efficient young officer had not been unnoticed or forgotten by those who were higher in authority. At this time a new instructor in military tactics was needed in the United States Military Academy at West Point. What could be more natural than thatthe choice should fall upon Pershing? He was a hard worker, he had seen active service on the plains, he had learned how to deal with men, and, besides, he had had actual experience in teaching tactics when he had been stationed at the University of Nebraska. And behind the experience was a personality quiet, modest and marvelously efficient. Lieutenant John Joseph Pershing was assigned to duty at the United States Military Academy as Assistant Instructor of Tactics, June 15, 1897.
To be back again in the well-remembered and beloved institution where he himself had been trained was a joy and honor. His devotion to and appreciation of West Point strengthened and intensified by his experiences in the years that had intervened since his graduation, we may be sure that the heart of Lieutenant Pershing was proud of the confidence which had been manifested in his selection to fill the vacant position.
Here again there was a continuance of his previous record of quiet and efficient service. It is true he was older now and he was more ready for the public and social duties of hisposition than perhaps he had been in his earlier days. And to the social side of his new task he responded as became one in his position.
It was not long, however, before a fresh opportunity presented itself—the one for which he had been waiting. The troubles between Spain and the Island of Cuba had for a considerable time been threatening to involve the United States. Many people sympathized with the Cubans in their longing and their efforts to secure their independence. The sturdy fight which the Islanders were making appealed strongly to many patriotic Americans who were glorying in the traditions of the struggle their own forefathers had made a century and a quarter earlier.
The friction between the United States and Spain steadily increased. The latter nation, perhaps not without a certain justification, was claiming that her colonists were fitting out expeditions and obtaining munitions and supplies for their soldiers in the cities of the United States, a supposedly neutral nation. She was not unnaturally irritated, too, by thesteadily increasing numbers of Americans that were serving in the hard pressed and poorly equipped troops of Cuba. The culmination, however, came when the United States battleship,Maine, was blown up in the harbor of Havana, February 15, 1898. The long delayed declaration of war by the United States, April 21, 1898, was the speedy outcome.
Lieutenant Pershinginstantly grasped his long awaited opportunity. He resigned his position at West Point, and at once was sent to his regiment, the 10th Cavalry, then at Chicamauga, and afterwards near Tampa, Florida, but in June of that same year he went to Cuba and shared in the campaign against Santiago. Many have thought that the nickname "Black Jack" was affectionately given him because he was such a daring and dashing leader of the exceptionally brave black men of whom the 10th U. S. Cavalry at that time was composed.
In this campaign no official records can have quite the same human touch as the words of the modest young officer himself. In a lecture or address in the Hyde Park M. E. Church,Chicago, November 27, 1898, the church whose founding was largely due to the interest and labors of his father,—Lieutenant Pershing described the experiences and deeds of his troop. The interest at the time was keen in the campaign he described. To-day, however, the interest is still keener in the young lieutenant who gave his vivid description of the battles in which he shared.
Address by Lieutenant Pershing at the Hyde Park M. E. Church, Chicago, at a patriotic Thanksgiving service, November 27, 1898:
The admonition of George Washington, "In peace prepare for war," had gone unheeded for one-third of a century. Congress had turned a deaf ear to the importunities of our military commanders. The staff departments of the army were only large enough to meet the ordinary necessities in times of peace of an army of 25,000 men. They had not transported even by rail for over thirty years a larger command than a regiment. In the face of all this every official both civil and military of staff and line seemingly did his best to overcome these adverse conditions and though of course mistakes were made I should hesitate to attribute to any individual otherthan the purest motives of patriotism. The wonder is it was done at all. The wonder is it was done so well. The point of embarkation for the first army of invasion was Port Tampa, Florida. There was some delay in the embarkation due to various causes one of which was the inexperience of officers in transporting troops by water. Another cause of delay was uncertainty as to whether or not the Spanish fleet was really confined in the harbor of Santiago.On the afternoon of June 14th, the fleet steamed out under its naval escort and a grander and more impressive sight the world has never seen.Arriving in the vicinity of Santiago some time was spent in deciding where to attempt a landing. Two plans were proposed, one an attack from the west, which was said would involve, with the assistance of the navy, the capture of the outer defenses of the harbor ofSantiago. The other plan, the one which was adopted, ignored the existence of Morro Castle and the coast defenses and contemplated an attack on the city from the rear. This decided, a point of debarkation was selected at Daiquiri. There were no good maps of Cuba and very little was known of the coast or country.At Daiquiri the navy prepared the way for landing by bombarding the town and driving out the Spanish troops who before leaving set fire to the buildings of the town and the machine shops and the mines located there. There were no docks at Daiquiri except a small wooden affair, old and out of repair.The vessels could not go nearer than about 300 yards from the shore and then only in calm weather.Nothing was taken ashore with the troops except what they carried on their backs, but the load was so heavy that to fall overboard in deep water meant to be drowned, though from the entire army but two men were lost.On the morning of June 23d, the Tenth Cavalry, together with the First Cavalry and Roosevelt's Rough Riders and regiments which formed the second brigade of the cavalry division, were sent ashore and moved out northwest passing through Siboney to a point beyond the most advanced outposts toward Santiago. These troops though belonging to the cavalry were dismounted and in marching through marsh and bog overhung with boughs and vines, clad as they were in heavy clothing, they soon began to feel the wilting effects of the tropical sun; but every man had resolved for the honor of his country to make the best of the situation as a soldier and whether working or marching or fighting all behaved as though the success of the campaign depended upon their own individual efforts.On July 10th, the day set for the ultimatum of the bombardment, the white flags of truce were again taken down and the men again climbed into the trenches. At four o'clock in the afternoon at the signal of the first gun from our northern battery the firing began and the battle raged with the same old fury as of those early July days; shells and bulletswhistled violently for a few minutes but the enemy's fire gradually died away into silence. They realized their helplessness and the battle was over.Our reinforcements had begun to arrive and the terms of capitulation dictated by the commanding general were soon agreed upon. On the morning of July 17th the lines of both armies were drawn up to witness the formal surrender. General Toral with an infantry escort rode out from the city to meet General Shafter, who was escorted by a squadron of mounted cavalry. The formalities were courteous though simple. Arms were presented by both commanders and the Spanish General tendered his sword to our commander.General Shafter, accompanied by all the general and staff officers, his escort of cavalry and one regiment of infantry, then entered the city.Shortly before twelve o'clock our troops were again drawn up in line along the six miles of trenches and stood at present arms. An officer ascended to the top of the Governor's palace and lowered the Spanish colors and now held the Stars and Stripes, impatient to declare our victory to the world. Suddenly at exactly twelve o'clock the enthusiasm burst forth, cannon boomed the national salute, bands played the Star Spangled Banner, hats were thrown into the air and ten thousand men as if to burst their throats joined in one grand American yell. There just beyond the hill outlined against the clear sky, over the Governor's palace in the captured city, though invisible to manyof us floated our own beloved flag. The campaign was over. For us the war was ended.On June 29th a part of General Garcia's Army with some 4000 Cubans were marched to the front, but they rendered little assistance, either in working or fighting. The most of them fled at the first explosion of a Spanish shell over El Pozo Capital Hill on July 1st. However, some excuse is theirs. Ragged, some half naked, wearied from hunger, laden with huge earthen water pots, heavy packs and cooking utensils slung over their backs, armed with every conceivable obsolete pattern of gun, it is no wonder that they dared not face the deadly Mauser rifle; we ourselves had much less contempt for Spanish arms after we had met them face to face on the battle field.On June 30th the general order came to move forward and every man felt that the final test of skill at arms would soon come. The cavalry division of six regiments camped in its tracks at midnight on El Pozo Hill, awoke next morning to find itself in support of Grimes' Battery which was to open fire here on the left.The morning of July 1st was ideally beautiful; the sky was cloudless and the air soft and balmy; peace seem to reign supreme, great palms towered here and there above the low jungle. It was a picture of a peaceful valley. There was a feeling that we had secretly invaded the Holy Land. The hush seemed to pervade all nature as though she held her bated breath in anticipation of the carnage.Captain Capron's field guns had opened fire upon the southern field at El Caney and the hill resounded with echoes. Then followed the reply of the musketry of the attacking invaders. The fighting in our front burst forth and the battle was on.The artillery duel began and in company with foreign military attachés and correspondents we all sat watching the effect of the shots as men witness any fine athletic contest eagerly trying to locate their smokeless batteries. A force of insurgents near the old Sugar Mill cowered at the explosion of each firing charge apparently caring for little except the noise.A slug of iron now and then fell among the surrounding bushes or buried itself deep in the ground near us. Finally a projectile from an unseen Spanish gun discharged a Hotchkiss piece, wounded two cavalrymen and smashed into the old Sugar Mill in our rear, whereupon the terrorized insurgents fled and were not seen again near the firing line until the battle was over.When the Tenth Cavalry arrived at the crossing of San Juan River the balloon had become lodged in the treetops above and the enemy had just begun to make a target of it. A converging fire upon all the works within range opened upon us that was terrible in its effect. Our mounted officers dismounted and the men stripped off at the roadside everything possible and prepared for business.We were posted for a time in the bed of the stream to the right directly under the balloon and stood inthe water to our waists waiting orders to deploy. Remaining there under this galling fire of exploding shrapnel and deadly Mauser bullets the minutes seemed like hours. General Wheeler and a part of his staff stood mounted a few minutes in the middle of the stream. Just as I raised my hat to salute in passing up the stream to pass the squadron of my regiment, a piece of bursting shell struck between us and covered us both with water. Pursuant to orders from its commander, with myself as guide, the second squadron of the Tenth forced its way through wire fence and almostimpenetrablethicket to its position. The regiment was soon deployed as skirmishers in an opening across the river to the right of the road and our line of skirmishers being partly visible from the enemy's position, their fire was turned upon us and we had to lie down in the grass a few minutes for safety. Two officers of the regiment were wounded; here and there were frequent calls for the surgeon.White regiments, black regiments, regulars and rough riders representing the young manhood of the North and South fought shoulder to shoulder unmindful of race or color, unmindful of whether commanded by an ex-confederate or not, and mindful only of their common duty as Americans.Through streams, tall grass, tropical undergrowth, under barbed wire fences and over wire entanglements, regardless of casualties up the hill to the right this gallant advance was made. As we appeared onthe brow of the hill we found the Spaniards retreating only to take up a new position farther on, spitefully firing as they retreated and only yielding their ground inch by inch.Our troopers halted and laid down but momentarily to get a breath and in the face of continued volleys soon formed for attack on the block houses and intrenchments on the second hill. This attack was supported by troops including some of the Tenth who had originally moved to the left toward this second hill and had worked their way in groups slipping through the tall grass and bushes, crawling when casualties came too often, courageously facing a sleet of bullets and now hung against the steep southern declivity ready to spring the few remaining yards into the teeth of the enemy. The fire from the Spanish position had doubled in intensity. There was a moment's lull and our line moved forward to the charge across the valley separating the two hills. Once begun it continued dauntless in its steady, dogged, persistent advance until like a mighty resistless challenge it dashed triumphant over the crest of the hill and firing a parting volley at the vanishing foe planted the silken standard on the enemy's breastworks and the Stars and Stripes over the block house on San Juan Hill to stay.This was a time for rejoicing. It was glorious.
The admonition of George Washington, "In peace prepare for war," had gone unheeded for one-third of a century. Congress had turned a deaf ear to the importunities of our military commanders. The staff departments of the army were only large enough to meet the ordinary necessities in times of peace of an army of 25,000 men. They had not transported even by rail for over thirty years a larger command than a regiment. In the face of all this every official both civil and military of staff and line seemingly did his best to overcome these adverse conditions and though of course mistakes were made I should hesitate to attribute to any individual otherthan the purest motives of patriotism. The wonder is it was done at all. The wonder is it was done so well. The point of embarkation for the first army of invasion was Port Tampa, Florida. There was some delay in the embarkation due to various causes one of which was the inexperience of officers in transporting troops by water. Another cause of delay was uncertainty as to whether or not the Spanish fleet was really confined in the harbor of Santiago.
On the afternoon of June 14th, the fleet steamed out under its naval escort and a grander and more impressive sight the world has never seen.
Arriving in the vicinity of Santiago some time was spent in deciding where to attempt a landing. Two plans were proposed, one an attack from the west, which was said would involve, with the assistance of the navy, the capture of the outer defenses of the harbor ofSantiago. The other plan, the one which was adopted, ignored the existence of Morro Castle and the coast defenses and contemplated an attack on the city from the rear. This decided, a point of debarkation was selected at Daiquiri. There were no good maps of Cuba and very little was known of the coast or country.
At Daiquiri the navy prepared the way for landing by bombarding the town and driving out the Spanish troops who before leaving set fire to the buildings of the town and the machine shops and the mines located there. There were no docks at Daiquiri except a small wooden affair, old and out of repair.The vessels could not go nearer than about 300 yards from the shore and then only in calm weather.
Nothing was taken ashore with the troops except what they carried on their backs, but the load was so heavy that to fall overboard in deep water meant to be drowned, though from the entire army but two men were lost.
On the morning of June 23d, the Tenth Cavalry, together with the First Cavalry and Roosevelt's Rough Riders and regiments which formed the second brigade of the cavalry division, were sent ashore and moved out northwest passing through Siboney to a point beyond the most advanced outposts toward Santiago. These troops though belonging to the cavalry were dismounted and in marching through marsh and bog overhung with boughs and vines, clad as they were in heavy clothing, they soon began to feel the wilting effects of the tropical sun; but every man had resolved for the honor of his country to make the best of the situation as a soldier and whether working or marching or fighting all behaved as though the success of the campaign depended upon their own individual efforts.
On July 10th, the day set for the ultimatum of the bombardment, the white flags of truce were again taken down and the men again climbed into the trenches. At four o'clock in the afternoon at the signal of the first gun from our northern battery the firing began and the battle raged with the same old fury as of those early July days; shells and bulletswhistled violently for a few minutes but the enemy's fire gradually died away into silence. They realized their helplessness and the battle was over.
Our reinforcements had begun to arrive and the terms of capitulation dictated by the commanding general were soon agreed upon. On the morning of July 17th the lines of both armies were drawn up to witness the formal surrender. General Toral with an infantry escort rode out from the city to meet General Shafter, who was escorted by a squadron of mounted cavalry. The formalities were courteous though simple. Arms were presented by both commanders and the Spanish General tendered his sword to our commander.
General Shafter, accompanied by all the general and staff officers, his escort of cavalry and one regiment of infantry, then entered the city.
Shortly before twelve o'clock our troops were again drawn up in line along the six miles of trenches and stood at present arms. An officer ascended to the top of the Governor's palace and lowered the Spanish colors and now held the Stars and Stripes, impatient to declare our victory to the world. Suddenly at exactly twelve o'clock the enthusiasm burst forth, cannon boomed the national salute, bands played the Star Spangled Banner, hats were thrown into the air and ten thousand men as if to burst their throats joined in one grand American yell. There just beyond the hill outlined against the clear sky, over the Governor's palace in the captured city, though invisible to manyof us floated our own beloved flag. The campaign was over. For us the war was ended.
On June 29th a part of General Garcia's Army with some 4000 Cubans were marched to the front, but they rendered little assistance, either in working or fighting. The most of them fled at the first explosion of a Spanish shell over El Pozo Capital Hill on July 1st. However, some excuse is theirs. Ragged, some half naked, wearied from hunger, laden with huge earthen water pots, heavy packs and cooking utensils slung over their backs, armed with every conceivable obsolete pattern of gun, it is no wonder that they dared not face the deadly Mauser rifle; we ourselves had much less contempt for Spanish arms after we had met them face to face on the battle field.
On June 30th the general order came to move forward and every man felt that the final test of skill at arms would soon come. The cavalry division of six regiments camped in its tracks at midnight on El Pozo Hill, awoke next morning to find itself in support of Grimes' Battery which was to open fire here on the left.
The morning of July 1st was ideally beautiful; the sky was cloudless and the air soft and balmy; peace seem to reign supreme, great palms towered here and there above the low jungle. It was a picture of a peaceful valley. There was a feeling that we had secretly invaded the Holy Land. The hush seemed to pervade all nature as though she held her bated breath in anticipation of the carnage.
Captain Capron's field guns had opened fire upon the southern field at El Caney and the hill resounded with echoes. Then followed the reply of the musketry of the attacking invaders. The fighting in our front burst forth and the battle was on.
The artillery duel began and in company with foreign military attachés and correspondents we all sat watching the effect of the shots as men witness any fine athletic contest eagerly trying to locate their smokeless batteries. A force of insurgents near the old Sugar Mill cowered at the explosion of each firing charge apparently caring for little except the noise.
A slug of iron now and then fell among the surrounding bushes or buried itself deep in the ground near us. Finally a projectile from an unseen Spanish gun discharged a Hotchkiss piece, wounded two cavalrymen and smashed into the old Sugar Mill in our rear, whereupon the terrorized insurgents fled and were not seen again near the firing line until the battle was over.
When the Tenth Cavalry arrived at the crossing of San Juan River the balloon had become lodged in the treetops above and the enemy had just begun to make a target of it. A converging fire upon all the works within range opened upon us that was terrible in its effect. Our mounted officers dismounted and the men stripped off at the roadside everything possible and prepared for business.
We were posted for a time in the bed of the stream to the right directly under the balloon and stood inthe water to our waists waiting orders to deploy. Remaining there under this galling fire of exploding shrapnel and deadly Mauser bullets the minutes seemed like hours. General Wheeler and a part of his staff stood mounted a few minutes in the middle of the stream. Just as I raised my hat to salute in passing up the stream to pass the squadron of my regiment, a piece of bursting shell struck between us and covered us both with water. Pursuant to orders from its commander, with myself as guide, the second squadron of the Tenth forced its way through wire fence and almostimpenetrablethicket to its position. The regiment was soon deployed as skirmishers in an opening across the river to the right of the road and our line of skirmishers being partly visible from the enemy's position, their fire was turned upon us and we had to lie down in the grass a few minutes for safety. Two officers of the regiment were wounded; here and there were frequent calls for the surgeon.
White regiments, black regiments, regulars and rough riders representing the young manhood of the North and South fought shoulder to shoulder unmindful of race or color, unmindful of whether commanded by an ex-confederate or not, and mindful only of their common duty as Americans.
Through streams, tall grass, tropical undergrowth, under barbed wire fences and over wire entanglements, regardless of casualties up the hill to the right this gallant advance was made. As we appeared onthe brow of the hill we found the Spaniards retreating only to take up a new position farther on, spitefully firing as they retreated and only yielding their ground inch by inch.
Our troopers halted and laid down but momentarily to get a breath and in the face of continued volleys soon formed for attack on the block houses and intrenchments on the second hill. This attack was supported by troops including some of the Tenth who had originally moved to the left toward this second hill and had worked their way in groups slipping through the tall grass and bushes, crawling when casualties came too often, courageously facing a sleet of bullets and now hung against the steep southern declivity ready to spring the few remaining yards into the teeth of the enemy. The fire from the Spanish position had doubled in intensity. There was a moment's lull and our line moved forward to the charge across the valley separating the two hills. Once begun it continued dauntless in its steady, dogged, persistent advance until like a mighty resistless challenge it dashed triumphant over the crest of the hill and firing a parting volley at the vanishing foe planted the silken standard on the enemy's breastworks and the Stars and Stripes over the block house on San Juan Hill to stay.
This was a time for rejoicing. It was glorious.