REVIEW AND REFLECTIONS.

Gallantry of the Black Regulars—Diary of Sergeant-Major E.L. Baker, Tenth Cavalry.

It is time now to sum up the work of the four regiments whose careers we have thus far followed, and to examine the grounds upon which the golden opinions they won in battle and siege are based. We have seen that in the first fight, that of Las Guasimas, on June 24th, the Tenth Cavalry, especially Troops I and B, both with their small arms and with the machine guns belonging to Troop B, did most effective work against the Spanish right, joining with the First Cavalry in overcoming that force which was rapidly destroying Roosevelt's Rough Riders. Nor should it be forgotten that in this first fight, Troop B, which did its full share, was commanded on the firing line by Sergeants John Buck and James Thompson. In the squad commanded by Sergeant Thompson several men of the First Regular Cavalry fought and it is claimed were highly pleased with him as squad commander.

While this was the first fight of the men of the Tenth Cavalry with the Spaniards, it was by no means their first experience under fire. From the time of the organization of the regiment in 1866 up to within a year of the war, the men had been engaged frequently in conflicts with Indians and marauders, often having men killed and wounded in their ranks. The fights were participated in by small numbers, and the casualties were not numerous, but there were opportunities for the acquirement of skill and the display of gallantry. Altogether the men of the regiment during their experience on the plains engaged in sixty-two battles and skirmishes. This training had transformed the older men of the regiment into veterans and enabled them to be cool and efficient in their first fight in Cuba.

Sergeant Buck, upon whom the command of Troop B chiefly fell after becoming separated from his Lieutenant in the battle at Guasimas, joined the regiment in 1880, and had already passed through eighteen years of the kind of service above described. He was at the time of the Cuban War in the prime of life, a magnificent horseman, an experienced scout, and a skilled packer. In 1880, when he joined the regiment, the troops were almost constantly in motion, marching that one year nearly seventy-seven thousand miles, his own troop covering twelve hundred and forty-two miles in one month. This troop with four others made a ride of sixty-five miles in less than twenty-one hours, arriving at their destination without the loss of a single horse. In 1893 he was mentioned by the commanding officer of Fort Missoula, Montana, for highly meritorious service, skill and energy displayed while in charge of pack train of an expedition across the Bitter Root Mountains, Idaho, during the most inclement weather, in quest of a party of gentlemen lost. (Letter of commanding officer, Fort Missoula, Montana, February 12, 1894.) Sergeant Buck has also won the silver medal for revolver shooting.

Sergeant James Thompson joined the regiment in 1888, and has passed the ten years in the one troop, and proved himself at Las Guasimas a soldier worthy his regiment.

The first battle gave the Tenth a reputation in a new field , corresponding to that which it had gained in the West, and this was not allowed to fade during its stay in Cuba. The fame of this first action spread rapidly through the army and inspired the other regiments of colored men with a desire to distinguish themselves on this new field of honor, and their readiness to be to the front and to take prominent part in all service was so marked that opportunity could not be withheld from them. As the army advanced toward Santiago these regiments became more and more the mark of observation by foreign military men who were present, and by the great throng of correspondents who were the eyes for the people of the civilized world. And hence, when the lines of assault were finally determined and the infantry and cavalry of our army deployed for its perilous attack upon the Spanish fortifications the black regiments were in their places, conspicuous by their vigor and enthusiasm. In them were enlisted men whose time of service had expired a few days before, but who had promptly re-enlisted. In at least two cases were men who served their full thirty years and could have retired with honor at the breaking out of the war. They preferred to share the fortunes of their comrades in arms, and it is a comfort to be able to record that the two spoken of came home from the fight without a wound and with health unimpaired. How many others there were in the same case in the army is not reported, but the supposition is that there were several such in both the white and colored regiments.

Recalling the scenes of that memorable first of July, 1898, we can see the Twenty-fifth Infantry advancing steadily on the stone fort at El Caney at one time entirely alone, meeting the fire of the fort even up to their last rush forward. Captain Loughborough, who commanded Company B, of that regimen t, and although his company was in the reserve, was nevertheless under fire, says: "The hardest fighting of the Twenty-fifth was between two and four o'clock," at which time all the other troops of the attacking force, except Bates' brigade, were under cover and remaining stationary, the Twenty-fifth being the only organization that was advancing. The official reports give the positions of General Chaffee's brigade during the two hours between two o'clock and four of that afternoon as follows:

The Seventh was under partial cover and remained in its position "until about 4.30 p.m." The Seventeenth remained with its left joined to the right of the Seventh "until the battle was over." The Twelfth Infantry was in its shelter within 350 yards of the fort "until about 4 p.m." Ludlow's brigade was engaged with the town, hence only Miles' brigade, consisting of the Fourth and Twenty-fifth Infantry, was advancing upon the fort. The Fourth Infantry was soon checked in its advance, as General Daggett especially notes in his report, and the Twenty-fifth was thus thrust forward alone, excepting Bates' brigade, which was making its way up the right.

This conspicuous advance of the Twenty-fifth brought that regiment into the view of the world, and established for it a brilliant reputation for skill and courage. Arriving in the very jaws of the fort the sharpshooters and marksmen of that regiment poured such a deadly fire into the loopholes of the fort that they actually silenced it with their rifles. These men with the sternness of iron and the skill acquired by long and careful training, impressed their characteristics on the minds of all their beholders. Of the four hundred men who went on the field that morning very few were recruits, and many had passed over ten years in the service. When they "took the battle formation and advanced to the stone fort more like veterans than troops who had never been under fire," as their commander reports, they gave to the world a striking exhibition of the effect of military training. In each breast a spirit of bravery had been developed and their skill in the use of their arms did not for a moment forsake them. They advanced against volleys from the fort and rifle pits in front, and a galling fire from blockhouses, the church tower and the village on their left. Before a less severe fire than this, on that very day, a regiment of white volunteers had succumbed and was lying utterly demoralized by the roadside; before this same fire the Second Massachusetts Volunteers were forced to retire—in the face of it the Twenty-fifth advanced steadily to its goal.

Lieutenant Moss, who commanded Company H on the firing line on that day, has published an account in which he says: "The town was protected on the north by three blockhouses and the church; on the west by three blockhouses (and partially by the church); on the east by the stone fort, one blockhouse, the church, and three rifle pits; on the south and southeast by the stone fort, three blockhouses, one loop-holed house, the church and eight rifle pits. However, the Second Brigade was sent forward against the southeast of the town, thus being exposed to fire from fourteen sources, nearly all of which were in different planes, forming so many tiers of fire. The cover on the south and southeast of the town was no better than, if as good, as that on the other sides."

The cavalry regiments were no less conspicuous in their gallantry at San Juan than was the Twenty-fifth Infantry at El Caney. The brilliancy of that remarkable regiment, the Rough Riders, commanded on July 1st by Colonel Roosevelt, was so dazzling that it drew attention away from th e ordinary regulars, yet the five regiments of regular cavalry did their duty as thoroughly on that day as did the regiment of volunteers.[22] In this body of cavalry troops, where courage was elevated to a degree infringing upon the romantic, the two black regiments took their places, and were fit to be associated in valor with that highly representative regiment. The Inspector-General turns aside from mere routine in his report long enough to say "the courage and conduct of the colored troops and First United States Volunteers seemed always up to the best." That these black troopers held no second place in valor is proven by their deeds, and from the testimony of all who observed their conduct, and that they with the other regulars were decidedly superior in skill was recognized by the volunteer Colonel himself. The Ninth Cavalry, although suffering considerably in that advance on East Hill, involved as it was, more or less, with Roosevelt's regiment, did not receive so large a share of public notice as its sister regiment. The strength of the Ninth was but little over one-half that of the Tenth, and its movements were so involved with those of the volunteers as to be somewhat obscured by them; the loss also of its commander just as the first position of the enemy fell into our hands, was a great misfortune to the regiment. The Ninth, however, was with the first that mounted the heights, and whatever praise is to be bestowed upon the Rough Riders in that assault is to be distributed in equal degree to the men of that regiment. Being in the leading brigade of the division this regiment had been firing steadily upon the Spanish works before the charge was ordered, and when the movement began the men of the Ninth advanced so rapidly that they were among the first to reach the crest.

The Tenth Regiment, with its Hotchkiss guns, and its trained men, took its place in the line that morning to add if possible further lustre to the distinction already won. In crossing the flat, in climbing the heights, and in holding the ridge these brave men did all that could be expected of them. Roosevelt said: "The colored troops did as well as any soldiers could possibly do," meaning the colored men of the Ninth and Tenth Cavalry. To their officers he bestows a meed of praise well deserved, but not on the peculiar ground which he brings forward. He would have the reader believe that it has required special ability and effort to bring these colored men up to the condition of good soldiers and to induce them to do so well in battle; while the testimony of the officers themselves and the experience of more than a quarter of a century with colored professional troops give no countenance to any such theory. The voice of experience is that the colored man is specially apt as a soldier, and General Merritt declares him always brave in battle. The officers commanding colored troops at Santiago honored themselves in their reports of the battles by giving full credit to the men in the ranks, who by their resolute advance and their cool and accurate firing dislodged an intrenched foe and planted the flag of our Union where had floated the ensign of Spain.

That rushing line of dismounted cavalry, so ably directed by Sumner, did not get to its goal without loss. As it swept across the open to reach the heights, it faced a well-dire cted fire from the Spanish works, and men dropped from the ranks, wounded and dying. Of the officers directing that advance 35 fell either killed or wounded and 328 men. These numbers appear small when hastily scanned or when brought into comparison with the losses in battle during the Civil War, but if we take time to imagine 35 officers lying on the ground either killed or wounded and 328 men in the same condition, the carnage will not appear insignificant. Woe enough followed even that one short conflict. It must be observed also that the whole strength of this division was less than 3000 men, so that about one out of every eight had been struck by shot or shell.

Several enlisted men among the colored cavalry displayed high soldierly qualities in this assault, evidencing a willingness to assume the responsibility of command and the ability to lead. Color-Sergeant George Berry became conspicuous at once by his brilliant achievement of carrying the colors of two regiments, those of his own and of the Third Cavalry. The Color-Sergeant of the latter regiment had fallen and Berry seized the colors and bore them up the hill with his own. The illustrated press gave some attention to this exploit at the time, but no proper recognition of it has as yet been made. Sergeant Berry's character as a soldier had been formed long before this event, and his reputation for daring was already well established. He entered the service in 1867 and when he carried that flag up San Juan was filling out his thirty-first year in the service. All this time he had passed in the cavalry and had engaged in many conflicts with hostile Indians and ruffians on our frontiers.

Perhaps the most important parts taken by any enlisted men in the cavalry division were those taken by Sergeants Foster and Givens. The former was First Sergeant of Troo p G and as the troop was making its way to the hill by some means the Spaniards were able not only to discover them but also the direction in which they were moving and to determine their exact range. Sergeant Foster ventured to tell the Lieutenant in charge that the course of advance should be changed as they were marching directly into the enemy's guns.

"Silence," shouted the Lieutenant. "Come on, men; follow me." "All right, sir," said the Sergeant; "we'll go as far as you will." The next instant the Lieutenant was shot through the head, leaving Sergeant Foster in command. Immediately the troop was deployed out of the dangerous range and the Sergeant by the exercise of good judgment brought his men to the crest of the hill without losing one from his ranks. At the time of this action Sergeant Foster was a man who would readily command attention. Born in Texas and a soldier almost continuously since 1875, part of which time had been passed in an infantry regiment, he had acquired valuable experience. In 1888, while serving in the cavalry, he had been complimented in General Orders for skill in trailing raiding parties in Arizona. He was a resolute and stalwart soldier, an excellent horseman and possessed of superior judgment, and with a reputation for valor which none who knew him would question. The return of Troop G, Tenth Cavalry, for July, 1898, contains the following note: "Lieutenant Roberts was wounded early in the engagement; Lieutenant Smith was killed about 10.30 a.m. while gallantly leading the troop in the advance line. After Lieutenant Smith fell the command of the troop devolved upon First Sergeant Saint Foster, who displayed remarkable intelligence and ability in handling the troop during the remainder of the day. Sergeant Foster's conduct was such as cannot be excelled for valor during the operati ons around Santiago. He commanded the troop up the hills of San Juan."

Sergeant William H. Givens, of Troop D, Tenth Cavalry, also commanded in the action against San Juan. His Captain, who was wounded three times in the fight, being finally disabled before reaching the hill, makes the following report: "Sergeant William H. Givens was with the platoon which I commanded; whenever I observed him he was at his post exercising a steadying or encouraging influence on the men, and conducting himself like the thorough soldier that I have long known him to be. I understand to my great satisfaction that he has been rewarded by an appointment to a lieutenancy in an immune regiment."

The Descriptive list of Sergeant Givens, made on August 4th, 1898, contains these remarks:

"Commanded his troop with excellent judgment after his captain fell at the battle of San Juan, July 1, 1898, leading it up the hill to the attack of the blockhouse.

"Character: A most excellent soldier."[23]

Sergeant Givens may also be called an "old-timer." He had enlisted in '69, and had passed all that time in hard frontier service. The troop in which he enlisted during the years 1876-78 was almost constantly engaged with hostile Indians along the Mexican border, and Sergeant Givens was called upon to take part in numerous scouts in which there were many striking adventures. He was also in that memorable campaign against Victoria, conducted by General Grierson. Sergeant Givens was an ideal soldier and worthy the commendations bestowed upon him by his troop commander and others. Captain Bigelow received his disabling wound about seventy-five yards from the blockhouse and was taken to the rear under heavy fire by two soldiers of the troop by the name of Henderson and Boardman.

Lieutenant Kennington, reporting the work of the troop on that morning says that Corporal J. Walker was probably the first soldier to reach the top of the hill and is believed to have shot the Spaniard who killed Lieutenant Ord. The report containing the above statement is dated July 5, 1898. Since that time the matter has been fully investigated by Captain Bigelow and the fact ascertained that Corporal Walker did arrive first on the hill and did shoot the Spaniard referred to and he has been recommended for a Medal of Honor in consequence.

The Sergeant-Major of the Tenth Cavalry, Mr. E.L. Baker, who served with great credit during the Santiago campaign, is a soldier with an excellent record. He was born of French and American parentage in Wyoming and enlisted in the Ninth Cavalry as trumpeter in 1882, serving five years in that regiment. He then enlisted in the Tenth Cavalry, and in 1892 became Sergeant-Major. Being desirous of perfecting himself in the cavalry service he applied for an extended furlough with permission to leave the country, intending to enter a cavalry school in France. In this desire he was heartily endorsed by the officers of his regiment, and was specially commended by General Miles, who knew him as a soldier and who highly appreciated him as such. The breaking out of the Spanish war soon after he had made application prevented a full consideration of his case. In 1897 Sergeant-Major Baker published a specially valuable "Roster of the Non-Commissioned Officers of the Tenth U.S. Cavalry, with Some Regimental Reminiscences, etc.," which has been of marked service in the preparation of the sketches of the enlisted men of his regiment. He contributes the interesting sketch of his experiences in Cuba with his regiment, which follows this chapter, and which will prove to many perhaps the most interesting portion of my book.

The Twenty-fourth Infantry advanced in that line of attack on the extreme left and reached the crest of the San Juan Hills in such numbers as to lead the press correspondents and others to conclude that there were more men of this regiment promptly on the ground than of any other one regiment. It is certain they made a record for heroism in that assault as bright as any won on the field that day; and this record they raised to a magnificent climax by their subsequent work in the fever hospital at Siboney. For their distinguished service both in the field and in the hospital, the colored ladies of New York honored themselves in presenting the regiment the beautiful stand of colors already mentioned. As these fever-worn veterans arrived at Montauk they presented a spectacle well fitted to move strong men to tears. In solemn silence they marched from on board the transport Nueces, which had brought them from Cuba, and noiselessly they dragged their weary forms over the sandy roads and up the hill to the distant "detention camp." Twenty-eight of the ir number were reported sick, but the whole regiment was in ill-health.

These were the men who had risked their lives and wrecked their health in service for others. Forty days they had stood face to face with death. In their soiled, worn and faded clothing, with arms uncleaned, emaciated, and with scarce strength enough to make the march before them, as they moved on that hot 2nd of September from the transport to the camp, they appeared more like a funeral procession than heroes returning from the war; and to the credit of our common humanity it may be recorded that they were greeted, not with plaudits and cheers, but with expressions of real sympathy. Many handkerchiefs were brought into view, not to wave joyous welcome, but to wipe away the tears that came from overflowing hearts. At no time did human nature at Montauk appear to better advantage than in its silent, sympathetic reception of the Twenty-fourth Infantry.

Of these shattered heroes General Miles had but recently spoken in words well worthy his lofty position and noble manhood as "a regiment of colored troops, who, having shared equally in the heroism, as well as the sacrifices, is now voluntarily engaged in nursing yellow fever patients and burying the dead." These men came up to Montauk from great tribulations which should have washed their robes to a resplendent whiteness in the eyes of the whole people. Great Twenty-fourth, we thank thee for the glory thou hast given to American soldiery, and to the character of the American Negro!

Thus these four colored regiments took their place on the march, in camp, in assault and in siege with the flower of the American Army, the choice and pick of the American nation, and came off acknowledged as having shared equally in heroism and sacrifices with the other regular regiments so engaged, and deserving of special mention for the exhibition of regard for the welfare of their fellow man. The query is now pertinent as to the return which has been made to these brave men. The question of Ahasuerus when told of the valuable services of the Jew, Mordecai, is the question which the better nature of the whole American people should ask on hearing the general report of the valuable services of the Negro Regular in the Spanish War. When Ahasuerus asked: "What honor and dignity hath been done to Mordecai for this?" his servants that ministered unto him were compelled to answer: "There is nothing done for him." Looking over these four regiments at the time of this writing an answer somewhat similar in force must be returned. That the colored soldier is entitled to honor and dignity must be admitted by all who admire brave deeds, or regard the welfare of the state. The colored soldier, however, was compelled to stand by and see a hundred lieutenancies filled in the Regular Army, many in his own regiments, only to find himself overlooked and to be forced to feel that his services however valuable, could not outweigh the demerit of his complexion.

The sum total of permanent advantage secured to the colored regular as such, in that bloody ordeal where brave men gave up their lives for their country's honor, consists of a few certificates of merit entitling the holders to two dollars per month additional pay as long as they remain in the service. Nor is this all, or even the worst of the matter. Men who served in the war as First Sergeants, and who distinguished themselves in that capacity, have been allowed to go back to their old companies to serve in inferior positions. Notably is this the case with Sergeant William H. Givens, whose history has been detailed as commanding Troop D, T enth Cavalry, after Captain Bigelow fell, and who heroically led the troop up the hill. He is now serving in his old troop as Corporal, his distinction having actually worked his reduction rather than substantial promotion.

It must not be inferred from the foregoing, however, that nothing whatever was done in recognition of the gallantry of the colored regulars. Something was done. Cases of individual heroism were so marked, and so numerous, that they could not be ignored. The men who had so distinguished themselves could not be disposed of by special mention and compliments in orders. Something more substantial was required. Fortunately for such purpose four regiments of colored United States Volunteer Infantry were then in course of organization, in which the policy had been established that colored men should be accepted as officers below the grade of captain. Into these regiments the colored men who had won distinction at Santiago were placed, many as Second Lieutenants, although some were given First Lieutenancies. This action of the Government was hailed with great delight on the part of the colored Americans generally, and the honors were accepted very gratefully by the soldiers who had won them on the field. Fortunately as this opening seemed, it turned out very disappointing. It soon became evident that these regiments would be mustered out of the service, as they had proven themselves no more immune, so far as it could be determined from the facts, than other troops. The Lieutenants who had been most fortunate in getting their commissions early got about six or seven months' service, and then the dream of their glory departed and they fell back to the ranks to stand "attention" to any white man who could muster political influence sufficient to secure a commission. Their day was short, and when they were discharged from the volunteer service, there appeared no future for them as commissioned officers. Their occupation was indeed gone. It was for them a most disappointing and exasperating promotion, resulting in some cases in loss of standing and in financial injury. Their honors were too short-lived, and too circumscribed, to be much more than a lively tantalization, to be remembered with disgust by those who had worn them. Cruel, indeed, was the prejudice that could dictate such a policy to the brave black men of San Juan. The black heroes, however, were not without sympathy in their misfortune. The good people of the country had still a warm place in their hearts for the colored soldier, despite the sayings of his maligners.

The people of Washington, D.C., had an opportunity to testify their appreciation of the Tenth Cavalry as that regiment passed through their city on its way to its station in Alabama, and later a portion of it was called to Philadelphia to take part in the Peace Jubilee, and no troops received more generous attention. To express in some lasting form their regard for the regiment and its officers, some patriotic citizens of Philadelphia presented a handsome saber to Captain Charles G. Ayres, who had charge of the detachment which took part in the Peace Jubilee, "as a token of their appreciation of the splendid conduct of the regiment in the campaign of Santiago, and of its superb soldierly appearance and good conduct during its attendance at the Jubilee Parade in Philadelphia."

Likewise when the Twenty-fifth Infantry arrived at its station at Fort Logan, Colorado, the people of Denver gave to both officers and men a most cordial reception, and invited them at once to take part in their fall carnival. All over the country there was at that time an unusual degree of good feeling toward the colored soldier who had fought so well, and no one seemed to begrudge him the rest which came to him or the honors bestowed upon him.

This state of feeling did not last. Before the year closed assiduous efforts were made to poison the public mind toward the black soldier, and history can but record that these efforts were too successful. The three hundred colored officers became an object at which both prejudice and jealousy could strike; but to reach them the reputation of the entire colored contingent must be assailed. This was done with such vehemence and persistency that by the opening of 1899 the good name of the black regular was hidden under the rubbish of reports of misconduct. So much had been said and done, even in Denver, which had poured out its welcome words to the heroes of El Caney, that the Ministerial Alliance of that city, on February 6, 1899, found it necessary to take up the subject, and that body expressed itself in the unanimous adoption of the following resolutions:

RESOLUTIONS ADOPTED UNANIMOUSLY BY THE MINISTERIAL ALLIANCE OF DENVER, FEBRUARY 6, 1899.

Resolved, By the Ministerial Alliance of the City of Denver, that the attempt made in certain quarters to have the Twenty-fifth Regiment, United States Infantry, removed from Fort Logan, appears to this body to rest on no just grounds, to be animated on the contrary by motives unworthy and discreditable to Denver and the State, and that especially in view of the heroic record of the Twenty-fifth Regiment, its presence here is an honor to Denver and Colorado, which this Alliance would regret to have withdrawn.[24]

The mustering out of the volunteers about the time this opposition was approaching what appeared to be a climax, causing the removal from the service of the colored officers, appeased the wrath of the demon, and the waves of the storm gradually sank to a peace, gratifying, indeed, to those who shuddered to see a black man with shoulder-straps. As the last Negro officer descended from the platform and honorably laid aside his sword to take his place as a citizen of the Republic, or a private in her armies, that class of our citizenship breathed a sigh of relief. What mattered it to them whether justice were done; whether the army were weakened; whether individuals were wronged; they were relieved from seeing Negroes in officers' uniforms, and that to them is a most gracious portion. The discharge of the volunteers was to them the triumph of their prejudices, and in it they took great comfort, although as a matter of fact it was a plain national movement coming about as a logical sequence, entirely independent of their whims or wishes. The injustice to the Negro officer does not lie in his being mustered out of the volunteer service, but in the failure to provide for a recogniti on of his valor in the nation's permanent military establishment.

The departure of the colored man from the volunteer service was the consequent disappearance of the colored military officer, with the single exception of Lieutenant Charles Young of the Regular Cavalry, had a very depressing effect upon the colored people at large, and called forth from their press and their associations most earnest protests. With a few exceptions, these protests were encouched in respectful language toward the President and his advisers, but the grounds upon which they were based were so fair and just, that right-thinking men could not avoid their force. The following resolution, passed by the National Afro-American Council, may be taken as representative of the best form of such remonstrance:

"Resolved, That we are heartily grieved that the President of the United States and those in authority have not from time to time used their high station to voice the best conscience of the nation in regard to mob violence and fair treatment of justly deserving men. It is not right that American citizens should be despoiled of life and liberty while the nation looks silently on; or that soldiers who, with conspicuous bravery, offer their lives for the country, should have their promotion result in practical dismissal from the army."

The nation graciously heeded the call of justice and in the re-organization of the volunteer army provided for two colored regiments, of which all the company officers should be colored men. Under this arrangement many of the black heroes of Santiago were recalled from the ranks and again restored to the positions they had won. Thus did the nation in part remedy the evil which came in consequence of the discharge of the volunteers, and prove its willingness to do right. Triumphant ly did the Administration vindicate itself in the eyes of good people, and again did it place its withering disapproval upon the conduct of those who were ready to shout their applause over the worthy black officer's accidental humiliation. The Negro officer disappeared from the United States' Regiments as a Lieutenant only; but he returns to the same, or rather, to a higher grade of the same form of regiments, both as Lieutenant and Captain. How rapid and pronounced has been the evolution! It is true the Negro officer is still a volunteer, but his standing is measurably improved, both because of the fact of his recall, and also because the regiments which he is now entering have some prospect of being incorporated into the Regular Army. It does not seem probable that the nation can much longer postpone the increase of the standing army, and in this increase it is to be hoped the American Negro, both as soldier and officer, will receive that full measure of justice of which the formation of the present two colored regiments is so conspicuous a part.

DIARY OF E.L. BAKER. SERGEANT-MAJOR TENTH U.S. CAVALRY.

Appointed First Lieutenant Ninth U.S. Volunteer Infantry, and later Captain of the Forty-ninth Volunteer Infantry—Now Lieutenant in Philippine Scouts.

A TRIP FROM MONTANA TO CUBA WITH THE TENTH U.S. CAVALRY.

April 16, 1898, at 10.45 p.m., telegram was received from Department Headquarters, St. Paul, Minnesota, ordering the regiment to the Department of the Gulf.

As every click of the telegraph instrument was expected to announce a rupture in the diplomatic relations between the United States and the Kingdom of Spain, all knew that the mobilization of the army South meant preparing it for the serious work for which it is maintained.

On April 19 we were off for Chickamauga Park. En route we were heartily greeted. Patriotism was at its height. Every little hamlet, even, had its offerings. To compare the journey with Cæsar's march of triumph would be putting it mildly.

We arrived at the historic point April 25. Every moment of our stay there was assiduously devoted to organizing, refitting and otherwise preparing for the inevitable. Officers were sent to many parts of the country to secure recruits. Many also gave up details and relinquished their leaves of absence to take part in the impending crisis.

May 14. We were moved a little nearer the probable theatre of operations. On account of some deficiency in water for troops at Tampa, the regiment was stopped at Lakeland, 30 miles this side, where many recruits were received; Troops increased to war strength, and new Troops established. Drills and instructions were also constantly followed up.

June 6. Orders were received to prepare headquarters, band and eight Troops dismounted, with trained men only, for service in Cuba. Recruits to be left in camp with horses and property.

June 7. We were off for Port Tampa, where the regiment embarked on the steamship Leona that afternoon.

June 8. She steamed from the dock. When the expedition seemed to be forming, news was received that the dreaded Spanish fleet was being sighted, evidently lying in wait for army transports. So we steamed back to the pier. Many of the men appeared disappointed at the move, probably not realizing that there was too much water in the Atlantic Ocean for the 5th Army Corps to drink.

To my mind, the Divine Providence surely directed the move, as the delay enabled the force to be sw elled several thousand, every one of whom was needed before Santiago.

June 14. We steamed out of Tampa Bay, amid cheers and music from the thirty odd transports, heavily escorted by naval vessels. Among them were the much talked-of dynamiter, Vesuvius, and the beautiful little cruiser, Helena. Off Dry Tortugas that formidable warship, Indiana, joined the fleet.

Splendid weather; nothing unusual transpiring, though our transport, which also contained the First U.S. Cavalry, had a seemingly close call from being sent to the bottom of the sea, or else being taken in as a prisoner, which the enemy could have done with impunity.

Whilst going down the Saint Nicholas Chanel, in Cuban waters, the vessel was deliberately stopped about midnight, June 16, and left to roll in the trough of the sea until the morning of the 17th, in consequence of which we were put 20 hours behind the fleet and without escort, almost in sight of the Cuban shores.

Men were indignant at having been placed in such a helpless position, and would have thrown the captain of the ship, whom they accused of being a Spanish sympathizer and otherwise disloyal, overboard without ceremony, but for the strong arm of military discipline. We were picked up by the U.S. Cruiser Bancroft, late in the afternoon, she having been sent in quest of the Jonah of the fleet. Upon approach of the ship there were prolonged cheers from all of Uncle Sam's defenders. The only explanation that I have ever heard for this unpardonable blunder on the part of the ship's crew was that they mistook a signal of a leading vessel.

June 20. Land was sighted.

June 21. Dispatch boats active; transports circling; Morro Castle pointed out; three days' rations issued to each man; no ext ra impedimenta to be taken ashore; crew preparing for landing.

June 22. As we neared Daiquiri, the designated place for disembarking, flames could be seen reaching almost to the heavens, the town having been fired by the fleeing Spaniards upon the approach of war vessels of Sampson's fleet, who were assembling to bombard the shore and cover our landing. After a fierce fire from these ships, the landing was effected with loss of two men of our regiment, who were doubtless crushed to death between the lighters. They were buried near the place of recovery the next morning.

The few half-clothed and hungry-looking natives on shore seemed pleased to see us. Daiquiri, a shipping point of the Spanish-American Iron Company, was mostly deserted. The board houses seemed to have been spared, while the sun-burned huts thatched with palm were still smoking, also the roundhouse in which there were two railroad locomotives, warped and twisted from the heat. The Spanish evidently fired everything they could before evacuating.

June 23. At 6.00 p.m. Troops A, B, E and I, left with four Troops of the First U.S. Cavalry and Rough Riders (First U.S. Volunteer Cavalry) as advance guard of the Army of Invasion on the main road to Santiago de Cuba; about 800 men all told, three Hotchkiss guns, manned by ten cavalrymen, accompanied also by the Brigadier Commander, General S.M.B. Young and staff.

Note.—These troops marched about 13 miles through a drenching rain from 7 to 10 p.m.; bivouacked one hour later. Oh the 24th, after breakfast, took the trail about 5.15 a.m. The vapor from wet clothing rose with the sun, so that you could scarcely recognize a man ten feet away. About three and one-half miles above Siboney the command was halted; the first U.S. Volunteer Cavalry (Rough Riders) sent to the left; proceeding farther about one mile, the main column was split, First U.S. Cavalry going to the right, the Tenth Cavalry remaining in the center. General Wheeler joined at this point, accompanied by his orderly, Private Queene, Troop A, Tenth Cavalry. Disposition of the troops was explained by General Young, who had located his headquarters with the Tenth U.S. Cavalry; General Wheeler made his the same. Hotchkiss guns were ordered closed up; magazines filled. The column had proceeded but a short way when the engagement opened in all its fury; troops were deployed and advanced in the direction from which the bullets were coming the thickest, as rapidly as the formation of the ground would permit, the left of the line touching the right of the Rough Riders.

June 24. Headquarters, band and the remainder of the First and Tenth U.S. Cavalry were off at 6 A.M. The road was alive with troops (C, D, F, G,) colonels and privates alike lugging their rations and bedding beneath that ever watchful tropical sun, feeling as though they would wilt at every step, the undergrowth being so thick and tall that scarcely any breeze could get to you.

On emerging from this thicket, through which we had been marching for several hours, the Sampson fleet could be heard firing on the Spanish batteries on shore. Marines and other troops could be seen crossing the mountains above Altares; this revived the men very much. As we approached Verni Jarabo (Altares?), we were met by General Lawton, who informed our Colonel that the advance guard was engaged with the Spanish at La Guasima, and that it was hard pressed. Our pace was quickened; the news appeared to lighten our heavy packs as we toiled to the front to assist our comr ades. The roar of the artillery became plainer; wounded men along the road as well as those played-out from the intense heat. Women and children were fleeing to places of safety. Our forces were repairing a railroad engine and track; also tearing up a piece leading to a Spanish blockhouse. In fact, everything seemed to have on an exceedingly warlike tint, but our advance continued as swifty as our weary feet would allow, which soon brought us to a number of our own comrades conveyed on litters from La Guasima, where our advance guard was tussling hard with the Dons for the honors of the day.

Upon arrival of reinforcements, victory had been wrested from the Dons fairly by the advance guard without assistance. Every one greeted each other, as though it had been a year instead of a few hours since parting. The First U.S. Cavalry and Rough Riders were unstinted in extolling the fighting qualities of their brothers in arms, the Tenth U.S. Cavalry.

The enemy was struck early June 24, entrenched on the heights of La Guasima, near Sevilla, on the main road from Daiquiri to the city of Santiago de Cuba. The advance guard was soon hotly engaged with them; after a very desperate fight of over one hour, the enemy was driven in confusion from their intrenchments. Our men were too exhausted to follow them. The Tenth Cavalry lost 13 killed and wounded. For a while it was a terrific fight, as the enemy was strongly intrenched on the heights and our men had to climb them subjected to their fire, which was very accurate, and much of it doubtless from machine guns in hands of experienced men. Our men had also to contend with the thickest underbrush, wire fences (the famous military trochas) and Spanish daggers jabbing them in side at every step. For a while the situation was serious. The decisive blow of the attack seems to have b een struck at an opportune moment, and the enemy withdrew in confusion.

It has been estimated that about 4,000 Spanish were engaged. Everything indicated that they lost heavily; a Santiago paper put it at 240. The writer and the Sergeant-Major of the First U.S. Cavalry superintended the digging of one large grave where all the dead of the two regiments were interred according to the Episcopal service. The Rough Riders, being farther to our left, buried their own. If advantage of position goes for anything, the Spanish should have annihilated the Americans as they approached the stronghold.

The command remained on the battlefield until June 26, when it proceeded to Sevilla, an old coffee and sugar plantation, to await the assembling of the army and placing of the artillery.

Our camp at Sevilla was an interesting one in many ways. It was pitched between the main road and a stream of excellent water. From the hill beyond, the Spanish works could be viewed. From the roadside many acquaintances were seen, also generals, foreign military attaches, troops, artillery and pack trains. Wheeled transportation seemed entirely out of its place in Cuba; one piece of artillery was noticed with 24 horses tugging away at it.

The Cuban Army, cavalry and infantry, passed us at this point, which seemed to consist of every male capable of swelling the crowd. Those unable to carry or secure guns had an old knife or machete strapped to them.

On June 30, about 4 P.M., shortly after our daily shower, which was a little more severe and much longer than usual, the regiment was put in motion for the front. We had marched about 1600 yards when the war balloon was seen ascending some distance to our right. As the balloon question was new, every one almost was stumbling on the ma n's heels in front, trying to get a peep at this wonderful war machine.

After much vexatious delay, narrow road crowded with troops, a pack train came along and added its mite to the congestion, as some of the mules turned their heels on the advancing column when pushed too much.

We finally merged into a beautiful lawn, site of the Division Hospital, where all were as busy as beavers in placing this indispensable adjunct in order. Here the work of July 1 was clearly suggested. Proceeding, wading and rewading streams, we bivouacked beyond the artillery on the heights of El Poso, an old sugar plantation, about four miles off, in plain view of the city of Santiago. The lights of the city showed so brightly, the enemy offering no resistance to our advance, I could not help feeling apprehensive of being in a trap. I thought so seriously over the matter that I did not unroll my pack, so as to be ready at an instant. Simply released my slicker, put it on, and lay down where I halted.

Early July 1 all the brigade was up, getting breakfast and making as much noise as if on a practice march. The Tenth Cavalry did not make any fire until orders were received to that effect. I remarked to my bunky that we were not going to fight evidently, as the smoke would surely disclose our presence and enable the enemy's artillery to get our range. The whole of Santiago seemed to be decorated with hospital flags.

At 6.30 a shell from Capron's battery, U.S. Artillery, directed at a blockhouse in El Caney, announced that the battle was on. Then the musketry became general. All stood and watched the doomed village quite a while as the battle progressed. Soon Grices' battery of the U.S. Artillery, which was in support, belched forth destruction at the Spanish work s of the city, using black powder. The fire was almost immediately returned by the enemy's batteries, who had smokeless. They were shortly located when a fierce duel took place. The Dons were silenced, but not until we had suffered loss. During this fire an aide—Lieut. Wm. E. Shipp, Tenth Cavalry, Brigade Quartermaster—brought orders for us to take position on the left of the First U.S. Cavalry. The line extended nearly north and south on a ridge some three or four miles from the city, where the regiment was exposed to much of the return fire from the enemy's batteries. The men exhibited no special concern and watched the flight of the death messenger as eagerly as if at a horse race. Adjutant Barnum here divided the band and turned it over to the surgeons to assist in caring for the wounded, and directed Saddler Sergeant Smith and myself to accompany the Colonel in advance. When Lieut. Shipp delivered his orders, some of the officers remarked, "You are having a good time riding around here." He replied that it was no picnic riding among bullets, and that he would prefer being with his troops.

After the artillery had ceased firing, the regiment moved to the right, passed El Poso, where there were additional signs of the enemy's havoc among our troops, proceeded down the road leading to Santiago. The movement of the regiment was delayed as it approached the San Juan River, by an infantry brigade which had halted.

The regiment came within range of musket fire about three-quarters or one-half mile from the crossing. Upon reaching the ford the Colonel (Baldwin) rode nearly across the stream (closely followed by his regiment) when we were greeted by the Dons with a terrific volley of musketry, soon followed by artillery, which caused us to realize more fully tha n ever, that "things were coming our way." Orders were given to throw off packs and get cover. In removing his, Sergeant Smith, on, my immediate left, was assisted by a Spanish bullet, and an infantry soldier fell as my pack was thrown off to the right. In seeking cover men simply dropped to the right and left of the road in a prone position.

The regiment was here subjected to a terrific converging fire from the blockhouse and intrenchments in front and the works further to the left and nearer the city. The atmosphere seemed perfectly alive with flying missiles from bursting shells over head, and rifle bullets which seemed to have an explosive effect. Much fire was probably drawn by the war balloon, which preceded the regiment to a point on the edge of the river, near the ford, where it was held. This balloon undoubtedly rendered excellent service in locating positions of the Spanish works and developing an ambush which had been laid for us, but the poor, ill-fated balloon certainly received many uncomplimentary remarks during our stay in its vicinity.

It seemed as though the Spanish regarded the balloon as an evil agent of some kind, and as though every gun, both great and small, was playing on it. I made several trips under it following the Colonel, who repeatedly rode up and down the stream, and I would have been fully satisfied to have allowed my mind even to wander back to the gaily lighted ball rooms and festivals left behind only a few months before.

While on the last trip under the balloon a large naval shell exploded, knocking the Colonel's hat off, crippling his horse, and injuring the rider slightly in the arm and side, all of course, in addition to a good sand bath. I then joined the regiment, some rods beyond, then under cover. In crouching down behind a clump of brush, heard some one groan; on looking around, saw Private Marshall struggling in the river wounded. Immediately rushing to his assistance another of those troublesome shells passed so close as to cause me to feel the heat. It did not stop the effort, however, and the wounded man was placed in safety.

The regiment remained in the road only a few moments when it was ordered to take position behind the river bank some yards above the balloon for protection; while moving to that position, and while there, suffered much loss. Why we did not lose heavier may be attributed to the fact that the enemy's musket fire was a trifle high, and their shells timed from one-half to one second too long, caused them to explode beyond, instead of in front, where the shells would have certainly secured the Dons' maximum results, as, after the balloon was cut down, you could scarcely hold your hand up without getting it hit. During the battle, one trooper fell upon a good-sized snake and crushed it to death, and another trooper allowed one of these poisonous reptiles to crawl over him while dodging a volley from the Spanish Mausers.

The shrapnel and canister shells, with their exceedingly mournful and groaning sound, seemed to have a more terrifying effect than the swift Mauser bullet, which always rendered the same salutation, "Bi-Yi." The midern shrapnel shell is better known as the man-killing projectile, and may be regarded as the most dangerous of all projectiles designed for taking human life. It is a shell filled with 200 or 300 bullets, and having a bursting charge, which is ignited by a time fuse, only sufficient to break the base and release the bullets, which then move forward with the velocity it had the time of bursting. Each piece is capable of dealing death to any living thing in its path. In practice firing, it is known w here, by one shot, 152 hits were made by a single shrapnel. In another, 215 hits are recorded. Imagine then, the havoc of a well-directed shrapnel upon a group of men such as is here represented. Capron's battery at El Caney cut down 16 cavalrymen with one shell.

After a delay of about 30 minutes, during part of the time, the writer, assisted by Sergeant Smith and Mr. T.A. Baldwin, cut all the wire fences possible. Mr. Baldwin was dangerously wounded while so engaged just before the general advance.

The regiment merged into open space in plain view of and under the fire of the enemy; and formed line of battle facing toward the blockhouses and strong intrenchments to the north, occupied by the Spanish, and advanced rapidly in this formation, under a galling, converging fire from the enemy's artillery and infantry, on the blockhouses and heavy intrenchments to the right front. Many losses occurred before reaching the top of the hill, Lieut. W.H. Smith being killed while gallantly conducting his troop as it arrived on the crest. Lieut. W.E. Shipp was killed about the same instant, shortly after leaving Lieutenant Smith, further to the left and near the pond on the sunken road leading to Santiago. Lieutenant Smith was struck in the head and perished with a single groan. Lieutenant Shipp was hit near the heart; death must have been almost instantaneous, though it appears he made an effort to make use of his first aid package. Thus the careers of two gallant and efficient officers whose lives had been so closely associated were ended.

Private Slaughter, who was left in charge of Lieutenant Smith's body, was picked off by the Spanish sharpshooters, and Private Jackson, Lieutenant Shipp's orderly, was left as deaf as a post from a bursting shell.

The enemy having been driven back, northwest, to the second and third blockhouses, new lines were formed and a rapid advance made upon them to the new positions. The regiment assisted in capturing these works from the enemy, and planted two sets of colors on them, then took up a position to the north of the second blockhouse. With some changes in position of troops, this line, one of the most advanced, about three hundred yards of the enemy, was held and intrenchments dug under a very heavy and continuous fire from the Spanish intrenchments in front, July 2 and 3.

In their retreat from the ridge, the enemy stood not on the order of their going, but fled in disorder like so many sheep from the scene, abandoning a quantity of ammunition, which was fired at them subsequently from our rapid-fire guns. Our men were too exhausted to pursue them, footwear and clothing being soaked by wading rivers, they had become drenched with rain, and when they reached the crest they were about played-out; having fought about 12 hours, most of which was under that ever-relentless tropical sun.

Throughout the night, work on the intrenchments was pushed, details buried the dead, improvised litters, and conveyed the wounded to hospitals, all of which was prosecuted with that vim for which the regular soldier is characterized, notwithstanding their water-logged condition.

The regiment acted with extraordinary coolness and bravery. It held its position at the ford and moved forward unflinchingly after deployment, through the dense underbrush, crossed and recrossed by barbed wire, under heavy and almost plunging fire from the Spanish works, while attacking with small arms an enemy strongly posted in intrenchments and blockhouses, supported by artillery, and who stubbor nly contested every inch of ground gained by the American troops.

Officers were exceedingly active and tireless in their efforts to inspire and encourage the men. You could hear them call out, "Move right along; the Spaniards can't shoot; they are using blanks." One officer deliberately stopped and lit his pipe amid a shower of bullets, and then moved on as unconcerned as if on target practice.

The rifle pits occupied by the enemy were intrenchments in reality, dug almost shoulder deep, and faced with stone, being constructed without approaches, leaving the only avenue for escape over the parapet, which was equivalent to committing suicide, in face of the unerring marksmanship of the United States troops.

We were afterward told by a Spanish soldier how they were held in these trenches by an officer stationed at each end with a club; also how they depended on their officers for everything. This may account for the large percentage of our officers picked off by the Dons. I observed during the battle that when spotted by the enemy, delivering orders or busying about such duties as usually indicated some one in authority, the Spanish would fire whole volleys at an individual, this evidently with a view to demoralizing the rank and file by knocking off the officers.

The Spanish also tried an old Indian trick to draw our fire, or induce the men to expose themselves, by raising their hats on sticks or rifles, or placing them upon parapets, so when we went to fire they would aim to catch us as we rose with a terrific volley. The Dons were, however, soon convinced of their folly in this respect, as we always had a volley for the hats and a much stouter one for the enemy as he raised to reply to the volley at the hats. The Tenth Caval ry had fought Indians too long in the West to be foiled in that manner.

We were annoyed much by the Spanish sharpshooters stationed in tops of the beautiful palms and other trees of dense foliage. A number of these guerillas were found provided with seats, water and other necessaries, and I am told some of them had evidently robbed our dead to secure themselves an American uniform, that they might still carry on their nefarious work undetected.

Many of the disabled received their second and some their mortal wound, while being conveyed from the field by litter-bearers.

Though it was the tendency for a time to give the sharpshooter story little or no credence, but to lay the matter to "spent bullets"; it seemed almost out of the question that "spent bullets" should annoy our Division Hospital, some four or five miles from the Spanish works. It would also seem equally as absurd that a bullet could be trained to turn angles, as several of our men were hit while assembled for transfer to general hospital and receiving temporary treatment at the dressing station located in an elbow of the San Juan River.

The Division Hospital was so harassed that it was necessary to order four Troops of the 9th U.S. Cavalry there for guard. While en route to the hospital on the morning of July 2 with wounded, I saw a squad of the 2nd U.S. Cavalry after one of these annoying angels, not 20 feet from the road. On arrival at the hospital I was told by a comrade that several had been knocked from their stage of action. On July 1, our Color-Sergeant was shot from a tree after our line had passed beneath the tree where he was located. July 3, three more fell in response to a volley through tree tops, and on July 14, while waiting the hand to reach the hour for the bombar dment of the city, one of the scoundrels deliberately ascended a tree in plain view of, and within two hundred yards of, our line. It was a good thing that the white flag for surrender appeared before the hour to commence firing, otherwise Spain would have had at least one less to haggle with on account of back pay.

To locate a sharpshooter using smokeless powder among the dense tropical growth may be compared with "looking for a needle in a haystack."

The killed and wounded in battle present a scene well calculated to move the most callous. Men shot and lacerated in every conceivable manner; some are expressionless; some just as they appeared in life; while others are pinched and drawn and otherwise distorted, portraying agony in her most distressful state. Of the wounded, in their anguish, some are perfectly quiet; others are heard praying; some are calling for their mothers, while others are giving out patriotic utterances, urging their comrades on to victory, or bidding them farewell as they pass on to the front. July 1, in passing a wounded comrade, he told me that he could whip the cowardly Spaniard who shot him, in a fair fist fight.

During the first day's battle many interesting sights were witnessed. The new calibre 30 Gatling guns were in action. These cruel machines were peppering away several hundred shots each per minute and sweeping their front from right to left, cutting down shrubbery and Spaniards like grain before the reaper. I observed the excellent service of the Hotchkiss Mountain gun; they certainly do their work to perfection and well did the Dons know it. Many shots fired into the "blind ditches and blockhouses" of the enemy caused them to scatter like rats. These guns use a percussion shell nearly t wo inches, and can be packed on mules. They were designed for light service with cavalry on the frontier. Four of these little beauties were manned by men of the Tenth Cavalry. The Spanish made it so hot for the boys that they would have to roll the gun under cover to load, and then steal it back to fire.

I saw one of our light batteries of artillery go in position under fire at the foot of San Juan Hill. The movement was swiftly and skillfully executed. A most interesting feature of this was to see the Caissons, drawn by six magnificent horses, off for ammunition. Three drivers to each outfit, one to each pair of horses; all plying the whip at every jump, would remind you of a Roman chariot race coming around on their last heat.

Wheeled vehicles of war suffer more than other troops, on account of their stationary positions. It is here that the dreaded sharpshooter comes in for glory, by picking off the gunners and other individuals.

Pack trains were seen dashing along the line with that always absolutely essential—ammunition—thereby gladdening the hearts of the boys who were doing their utmost to expend every round in their belts to gain another foot of Spanish territory.

During all these stirring events the stomachs of the real heroes were not neglected, and most certainly not along our part of the line. Pack mules were brought right up to the line under a hot fire, loaded with sugar, coffee, bacon and hardtack, all of which was in plenty. Some of the mules were killed and wounded, but this did not retard the advance of the train. When near the firing line some one called, "Whose rations?" A prompt reply, "Hungry soldiers."

The daring horseman was all that was needed to m ake the situation complete. Without participation of cavalry, the ideal warrior disappears from the scene, and the battle and-picture of war is robbed of its most attractive feature.

Late in the afternoon, July 1, I was directed to take Saddler Sergeant Smith and bring to the firing line all the men I could find of the regiment. Going to the dressing station, collected those who had brought or assisted wounded there, thence across a portion of the field passed over a few hours previous. Men were found almost exhausted, soaking wet, or a solid mass of mud, resting as comfortably as if in the finest of beds; many of them had been on picket duty all night before, to which was added the hard day's work not then completed. After locating all I could, we went to the crest of the San Juan Hill, to the left of the sunken road, where the First U.S. Cavalry was reforming, and there picked up a few more who had joined that regiment.

The Tenth Cavalry having in the meantime taken another position, I set out to find it, going in front, telling Smith to bring up the rear. We were detained a short time near Sunken Roads by shells from Cervera's fleet, which were falling in it at a lively rate. Barbed wire prevented us from "running the gauntlet." Shortly after crossing the road an officer passed us, his horse pushed to his utmost, telling us to take all the ammunition that we possibly could on the firing line. About that instant, the pack train came thundering by, which we relieved of a few thousand rounds in short order. I was much amused at one of the men who innocently asked, "Where are we to get axes to burst these strong boxes?" The job was speedily accomplished before the boxes were on the ground good, and most certainly in less time than it would have taken to explain matters to the inexperienced. We were soo n off again, tramping all over the country, through darkness, running into wire entanglements, outposts and pickets, and within fifty yards of the enemy (subsequently ascertained).

About 11.00 P.M. found Colonel Roosevelt a few hundred yards from the Spanish lines with some of my regiment, the First Cavalry, and Rough Riders, at work on trenches, where we reported. All seemed glad to have my little reinforcement, about 65 men, and ammunition. I never felt so relieved at anything as I did to get that herculean task off my hands, a job as hard as working a problem in the third book of Euclid. The men were so tired that they would lie down at every stop to find the right road or the way out of the wire entanglements constantly encountered. I have never seen in a book anything to equal the Spanish wire entanglements. Barbed wire was stretched in every nook and corner, through streams, grass, and from two inches to six feet in height, and from a corkscrew to a cable in design. It takes the nerve of a circus man to get men along when they are so exhausted that every place feels alike to them, and that they would gladly give away Mr. Jim Hill's fortune if they possessed it, for a few hours' sleep.

On arrival at the front, lunch was about over or just ready. Lieutenant E.D. Anderson (10th Cavalry) gave me two and one-half hardtacks from his supply, which he carried in his bosom. I was soon down for a little rest; all desultory firing had ceased; the pick and the shovel were the only things to disturb the quietude of that anxious night. Had been down but a short time when aroused by one of the Rough Riders, who had some rice and meat in an ammunition box which he brought from the captured blockhouse. The meat was undoubtedly mule, as the longer I chewed it the larg er and more spongy it got, and were it not for the fact that I had had some experience in the same line many years before in Mexico while in pursuit of hostile Indians, I would certainly have accused our best friends (Rough Riders) of feeding us rubber. I made another effort for a little sleep, and was again aroused by some one passing around hardtack, raw bacon, etc., with instructions as to where to go to cook it. I thanked him and carefully laid it aside to resume my nap. At 2.40 A.M. the pickets were having such a lively set to, that I thought the general engagement was on. It was at this time I discovered that I was shivering cold, and that my teeth were rattling equal to a telegraph sounder; so under the circumstances, I concluded not to try for any more sleep. The dew was falling thick and heavy; no coat, no blanket, top shirt torn in strips from the brush, and undershirt wet and in my pack, thrown off on coming into battle.

Early July 22nd the artillery took position on our left. Pickets kept up firing from 2.40 A.M. until 5.25, when the engagement became general. Shortly after 6.00 A.M. our artillery opened on the Spanish works, who promptly returned the compliment. During the firing the Dons exploded a shell in the muzzle of one of our pieces. Adjutant Barnum fell at 6.30 A.M.; his wound was promptly dressed, when I started to the Division Hospital with him. Though seriously hurt, I have never seen a better natured man. While en route, we laid him down to eat a can of salmon found in the road. In response to his query, "What's up, Sergeant?" the salmon was passed him; he helped himself, no further questions were asked, and the journey was resumed. On arrival at the hospital he was quickly examined and placed on a comfortable co t. Many of the attendants were completely played-out from overwork.

A visit to a field hospital will have a lasting place in your memory. Every way you turn, amid the cries and groans, you get a beck or call to ease this, or hand me that, and one feels badly because of his inability to extend them material aid in their sufferings.

On returning to the front, I found the regiment as hotly engaged as when I left it some hours before. As the fighting was from trenches, many of our men were wounded by shells. Sharpshooters were on hand as usual. I was sent to the Captain of Troop E, under the crest of the hill, with orders to dig an approach to one of the enemy's trenches, evacuated the day before; also to bury some of their dead. While delivering the order, it being necessary to get very close on account of the noise, one of those ever vigilant sharpshooters put a bullet between our faces. The Captain asked me to cut the wire fence so his troops could get through more rapidly; while telling me, another bullet passed so close as to disturb the Captain's mustache. He took it good-naturedly, only remarking as he smiled, "Pretty close, Sergeant-Major!"

Firing ceased about 8 P.M. After all had had supper we changed position further to the right, where work on trenches was resumed. About 10.30 P.M. the Spaniards made an attack upon our lines, and I have never before or since seen such terrific firing; the whole American line, which almost encircled the city, was a solid flame of fire. The enemy's artillery replied, also their much-praised "Mausers," but to no avail; they had opened the ball, but Uncle Sam's boys did not feel like yielding one inch of the territory so dearly bought.

About midnight all hands were aroused by the dynamite cruiser Vesuvius "coughing" for the Dons. The roar was so great that it seemed to shake the whole island. To the uninitiated it would appear that some one had taken a few mountains several miles up in a balloon and thrown them down.

July 3. Firing by pickets commenced very early, and quite heavy, at 5.40 A.M. Terrific cannonading to the seaward was heard between 9 and 10 A.M. As there was some talk of the enemy making a sortie, all eyes were open. Dirt began falling in the pits from the jar, bells could be heard tolling in the city, and steam whistles in the harbor. There was much speculation as to what was in progress. I'll say that there were many glad hearts when the news reached us that Sampson's fleet was King of the Seas. At 12 M. all firing was ordered off, for flag of truce to enter the Spanish lines. When the order for cease firing was given, one of the troopers laid his gun upon the parapet and remarked that he "would not take $2000 for his experience, but did not want a cent's worth more." Work on bomb-proofs and breast works was continued incessantly until news of the surrender reached us.

July 4. Flag of truce all day; national and regimental colors placed on parapets. At noon the regiment paraded, and all hearts cheered by the patriotic telegram of the Commander-in-Chief—His Excellency, President McKinley. Refugees, in droves, could be seen leaving for several days, notice of bombardment having been served on the city.

July 5. There was much excitement when Lieutenant Hobson and party crossed our lines.

During truce, the monotony was broken occasionally by the presence of Spanish soldiers in quest of something to eat or desiring to surrender.

Truce was off July 10 at 4 P.M. Bombardment of the city commenced by the army and navy combined, which continued un til 2 P.M. 11th. Gatling, dynamite, rapid-firing and Hotchkiss guns were so well trained that the Dons scarcely dared to raise their heads, and their firing was soon silenced. During the attack our part of the line suffered no loss. While occupying these works, it was discovered that the gun of the enemy that annoyed us most was quite near a large building covered with Red Cross flags.

During the truce all of our dead were located and buried. It was sad, indeed, to see the vultures swarming like flies, when we knew so well their prey.

Though prepared to, several times, no shots were exchanged after July 11, and all was quiet until date of capitulation. The hardest rain ever witnessed, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning, was on the last day of the engagement. Trenches were flooded and everything appeared as a sea.

July 17, at 9 A.M., the regiment, with the remainder of the army, was assembled over the trenches to witness the formal surrender of General Toral, with the Spanish forces. Owing to the dense tropical growth, and its similarity in color to their clothing, little or nothing could be seen, beyond the straw hats of the Dons, as they marched through the jungles. At 12 M., we were again placed in the same position, to salute "Old Glory" as she ascended over the Governor's palace in the city, which was told by Capron's battery U.S. Artillery. At the first shot, every individual tested his lungs to their fullest capacity, bands of music playing national airs.

Spanish soldiers were soon over our lines, trading off swords, wine, cigarettes and trinkets for hard tack and bacon. This soon ended, as there were positive orders against our fraternizing. The Spaniards were a fine looking lot of young men; though generally small in stature, and were very neat a nd clean, considering. The officers were an intelligent and dignified looking set. The Dons were away ahead on ammunition, and away behind on eatables. A few musty, hard tack, thrown in our trenches, were devoured like so much fresh beef, by so many hungry wolves.

Campaigning in the tropics entails many hardships, though unavoidable and only to be expected, in war. War is horrible in any aspect in which it may be viewed. Even those features of it intended to be merciful, are full of harshness and rigor; and after all, fighting is the easiest part.

As the capitulation was complete, and Santiago was our's, we were ordered to change camp to a more healthful locality, with a view to allowing the men to recuperate. While en route many refugees were met returning to the city, men and women, with the scantiest clothing imaginable; large children even worse—in a nude state—all were making signs for something to eat.

In passing through El Caney, filth of all descriptions was piled up in the streets; stock was seen standing inside dwellings with occupants; young and old were emaciated—walking skeletons; children with stomachs bloated to thrice their natural size—due to the unsanitary condition of the huts, so I was informed.

The bare facts are, that "half has never been told" regarding the true condition of the Cubans, and it is truly a Godsend that "Uncle Sam" was not delayed another day in letting the Don's breathe a little of nature's sweetest fragrance of the nineteenth century—Civilization.

The portion of the island I saw appears to be a beautiful park deserted and laid waste by the lavish application of the torch for many years. Magnificent m ansions, or dwellings, in ruins; habitation scant, except near towns.

There were no domestic animals, except a few for saddle purposes, nor were there crops to be seen. No use whatever appears to be made of the luxuriant pasturage and rich fields. Sugar houses and sheds on plantations are in a state of decay, and the huge kettles for boiling deeply coated with rust.

The climate of Cuba offers all the essentials, heat, moisture and organic matter, for the development of germ life in its most active form.

The great heat and moisture, so excellent for the development of infected wounds, and for the rapid decomposing of the heavy undergrowth cannot, I believe, be exceeded anywhere.

The frequent tropical showers, invariably followed by a hot steam, along with which germs seem to float; the consequent exposure of the men to that glaring heat and moisture, lowered the general tone of the system so that they were especially liable to attacks of miasmatic diseases (malarial and typhoid fevers and dysentery.)

Owing to the dense humidity, clothing does not dry so long as it remains on the person, but must be removed, a condition that was absolutely impossible for many days on the field before Santiago. To this alone, much of our sickness may be attributed.

Our new camp, pitched on the eminence of El Caney, about one and one-half miles from the village, overlooking the city and bay of Santiago, with its excellent water, shade, grass, and increased comforts, which were daily shipped from our transports, presented a scene far more conciliatory than had been witnessed about the Tenth Horse for many days.

MEDALS OF HONOR AND CERTIFICATES OF MERIT GRANTED TO COLORED SOLDIERS FOR DISTINGUISHED SERVICES IN THE CUBAN CAMPAIGN.

OFFICIAL.

Besides the Certificates of Merit and Medals of Honor, mentioned above, and the promotions to commissions i n the volunteer services, there were some instances of promotion to non-commissioned officers' positions of men in the ranks or junior grade for conspicuous gallantry. Notably among such were Benjamin F. Sayre, of the Twenty-fourth, promoted to Sergeant-Major for gallantry at San Juan, and Private James W. Peniston, of the Tenth Cavalry, promoted to Squadron Sergeant-Major for conspicuous bravery at Las Guasimas. Others there may be whose names are not available at this time.