THE SURRENDER, AND AFTERWARDS.

In the Trenches—The Twenty-fourth in the Fever Camp—Are Negro Soldiers Immune?—Camp Wikoff.

After the battle of El Caney the Twenty-fifth Infantry started for the mango grove, where the blanket rolls and haversacks had been left in the morning, and on its way passed the Second Massachusetts Volunteers standing by the roadside. This regiment had seen the charge of the Twenty-fifth up the hillside, and they now manifested their appreciation of the gallantry of the black regulars in an ovation of applause and cheers. This was the foundation for Sergeant Harris' reply when on another occasion seeing the manifest kind feelings of this regiment to the Twenty-fifth, I remarked: "Those men think you are soldiers." "They know we are soldiers," replied the sergeant. The regiment bivouacked in the main road leading from El Caney to Santiago, but sleep was out of the question. What with the passing of packtrains and artillery, and the issuing of rations and ammunition, the first half of the night gave no time for rest; and shortly after 12 o'clock, apprehensions of a Spanish attack put every one on the alert. At 3.30 the march to the rear was commenced and the entire division passed around by El Poso and advanced to the front by the Aguadores road, finally reaching a position on Wheeler's right about noon, July 2.

Subsequently the line of investment was extended to th e right, the Cuban forces under General Garcia holding the extreme right connecting with the water front on that side of the city. Next to them came Ludlow's McKibben's and Chaffee's forces. In McKibben's brigade was the Twenty-fifth, which dug its last trench on Cuban soil on July 14th, on the railroad running out from Santiago to the northwest. This intrenchment was the nearest to the city made by any American organization, and in this the regiment remained until the surrender.

The Twenty-fourth remained entrenched over to the left, in General Kent's division, lying to the right of the 21st. This regiment (24th) had won great credit in its advance upon the enemy, but it was to win still greater in the field of humanity. Capt. Leavel, who commanded Company A, said: "It would be hard to particularize in reporting upon the men of the company. All—non-commissioned officers, privates, even newly joined recruits—showed a desire to do their duty, yea, more than their duty, which would have done credit to seasoned veterans. Too much cannot be said of their courage, willingness and endurance." Captain Wygant, who commanded the Second Battalion of the regiment, says: "The gallantry and bearing shown by the officers and soldiers of the regiment under this trying ordeal was such that it has every reason to be proud of its record. The losses of the regiment, which are shown by the official records, show the fire they were subjected to. The casualties were greater among the officers than the men, which is accounted for by the fact that the enemy had posted in the trees sharpshooters, whose principal business was to pick them off." There is no countenance given in official literature to the absurd notion maintained by some, that it was necessary for the officers of black troops to expose themselves unusually in order to lead their troops, and that this fact accounts for excessive losses among them. The fact is that the regular officer's code is such that he is compelled to occupy the place in battle assigned him in the tactics, and no matter how great his cowardice of heart may be, he must go forward until ordered to halt. The penalty of cowardice is something to be dreaded above wounds or even death by some natures. "Colored troops are brave men when led by white officers."(?) As a matter of fact there is very little leading of any sort by officers in battle. The officer's place is in the rear of the firing line, directing, not leading, and it is his right and duty to save his own life if possible, and that of every man in his command, even while seeking to destroy the enemy, in obedience to orders. The record of the Twenty-fourth for bravery was established beyond question when it swept across that open flat and up San Juan Hill on that hot mid-day of July 1st, 1898.

After lying in the trenches until July 15th, the news reached the camp of the Twenty-fourth that yellow fever had broken out in the army, and that a large hospital and pest-house had been established at Siboney. About 4 o'clock that day an order came to the commanding officer of the regiment directing him to proceed with his regiment to Siboney and report to the medical officer there. The regiment started on its march at 5.30, numbering at that time 8 companies, containing 15 officers and 456 men. Marching on in the night, going through thickets and across streams, the men were heard singing a fine old hymn:

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee o'erflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee they deepest distress.

In view of what was before them, the words were very appropriate. They arrived on the hill at Siboney at 3.30 on the morning of July 16th.

Without discussing the graphic story told by correspondents of the highest respectability describing the regiment as volunteering, to a man, to nurse the sick and dying at Siboney, we will rather follow the official records of their doings in that fever-stricken place. On arriving at Siboney on the morning of July 16, Sunday, Major Markely, then in command of the regiment, met Colonel Greenleaf of the Medical Department, and informed him that the Twenty-fourth Infantry was on the ground. Colonel Greenleaf was just leaving the post, but Major La Garde, his successor, manifested his great pleasure in seeing this form of assistance arrive. Such a scene of misery presented itself to Major Markely's eyes that he, soldier as he was, was greatly affected, and assured Major La Garde that he was prepared personally to sink every other consideration and devote himself to giving what assistance he could in caring for the sick, and that he believed his whole regiment would feel as he did when they came to see the situation. In this he was not mistaken. The officers and men of the Twenty-fourth Infantry did give themselves up to the care of the sick and dying, furnishing all help in their power until their own health and strength gave way, in some instances laying down even their lives in this noble work.

On the day of arrival seventy men were called for to nurse yellow fever patients and do other work about the hospital. More than this number immediately volunteered to enter upon a service which they could well believe meant death to some of them. The camp was so crowded and filthy that the wo rk of cleaning it was begun at once by the men of the Twenty-fourth, and day by day they labored as their strength would permit, in policing the camp, cooking the food for themselves and for the hospital, unloading supplies, taking down and removing tents, and numberless other details of necessary labor. Despite all the care that could be taken under such conditions as were found at Siboney, the yellow fever soon overran the entire camp, and of the 16 officers of the regiment, 1 had died, 2 more were expected to die; 3 were dangerously ill, and 5 more or less so. Out of the whole sixteen there were but three really fit for duty, and often out of the whole regiment it would be impossible to get 12 men who could go on fatigue duty. Out of the 456 men who marched to Siboney only 24 escaped sickness, and on one day 241 were down. Those who would recover remained weak and unfit for labor. Silently, without murmuring, did these noble heroes, officers and men, stand at their post ministering to the necessities of their fellowman until the welcome news came that the regiment would be sent north and the hospital closed as soon as possible. On August 8 Major La Garde, more entitled to the honor of being classed among the heroes of Santiago than some whose opportunities of brilliant display were vastly superior, succumbed to the disease. The fact should be borne in mind that all of these men, officers, soldiers and surgeons, went upon this pest-house duty after the severe labors of assault of July 1-2, and the two weeks of terrible strain and exposure in the trenches before Santiago, and with the sick and wounded consequent upon these battles and labors—none were strong.

On July 16th, the day after the Twenty-fourth left the trenches, the surrender was made and on the next morning the final ceremonies of turning over Santiago to the Ameri can forces took place, and the soldiers were allowed to come out of their ditches and enter into more comfortable camps. The hardships of the period after the surrender were not much less than those experienced while in the lines.

On the 26th of August the Twenty-fourth Infantry, having obtained an honorable release from its perilous duty, marched out of Siboney with band playing and colors flying to go on board the transport for Montauk; but of the 456 men who marched into Siboney, only 198 were able to march out, directed by 9 out of the 15 officers that marched in with them. Altogether there were 11 officers and 289 men who went on board the transport, but all except the number first given were unable to take their places in the ranks. They went on board the steamer Nueces, and coming from an infected camp, no doubt great care was taken that the transport should arrive at its destination in a good condition. Although there was sickness on board, there were no deaths on the passage, and the Nueces arrived in port "one of the cleanest ships that came to that place." The official report states that the Nueces arrived at Montauk Point September 2, with 385 troops on board; 28 sick, no deaths on the voyage, and not infected. Worn out by the hard service the regiment remained a short time at Montauk and then returned to its former station, Fort Douglass, Utah, leaving its camp at Montauk in such a thoroughly creditable condition as to elicit official remark.

While the Twenty-fourth Infantry had without doubt the hardest service, after the surrender, of any of the colored regiments, the others were not slumbering at ease. Lying in the trenches almost constantly for two weeks, drenched with rains, scorched by the burning sun at times, and chilled by cool nights, subsisting on food not of the best and poorly cooked, cut off from news and kept in suspense, when the surrender finally came it found our army generally very greatly reduced in vital force. During the period following, from July 16th to about the same date in August the re-action fell with all its weight upon the troops, rendering them an easy prey to the climatic influences by which they were surrounded.[20] Pernicious malarial fever, bowel troubles and yellow fever were appearing in all the regiments; and the colored troops appeared as susceptible as their white comrades. The theory had been advanced that they were less susceptible to malarial fever, and in a certain sense this appears to be true; but the experience of our army in Cuba, as well as army statistics published before the Cuban War, do not bear out the popular view of the theory. The best that can be said from the experience of Cuba is to the effect that the blacks may be less liable to yellow fever and may more quickly rally from the effects of malarial fever. These conclusions are, however, by no means well established. The Twenty-fourth suffered excessively from fevers of both kinds, and in the judgment of the commanding officer of the regiment "effectually showed that colored soldiers were not more immune from Cuban fever than white," but we must remember that the service of the Twenty-fourth was exceptional. The Twenty-fifth Infantry lost but one man during the whole campaign from climatic disease, John A. Lewis, and it is believed that could he have received proper medical care his life would have been saved. Yet this regiment suffered severely from fever as did also the Ninth and Tenth Cavalry.

Arriving at Montauk [21] early the author had the op portunity to see the whole of the Fifth Army Corps disembark on its return from Cuba, and was so impressed with its forlorn appearance that he then wrote of it as coming home on stretchers. Pale, emaciated, weak and halting, they came, with 3,252 sick, and reporting 87 deaths on the voyage. But, as General Wheeler said in his report, "the great bulk of the troops that were at Santiago were by no means well." Never before had the people seen an army of stalwart men so suddenly transformed into an army of invalids. And yet while all the regiments arriving showed the effects of the hardships they had endured, the black regulars, excepting the Twenty-fourth Infantry, appeared to have slightly the advantage. The arrival of the Tenth Cavalry in "good condition" was an early cheering item in the stream of suffering and debility landing from the transports. Seeing all of the troops land and remaining at Camp Wikoff until its days were nearly numbered, the writer feels sure that the colored troops arrived from the front in as good condition as the best, and that they recuperated with marked comparative rapidity.

The chaplain of the Twenty-fifth Infantry, while en route to join his regiment at Montauk, thinking seriously over the condition of the men returning from such a hard experience, concluded that nothing would be more grateful to them than a reasonable supply of ripe fruit, fresh from the orchards and fields. He therefore sent a dispatch to the Daily Evening News, published in Bridgeton, N.J., asking the citizens of that community to contribute a carload of melons and fruits for the men of the Twenty-fifth, or for the whole camp, if they so wished. Subsequently mentioning the fact to the commanding officer of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Daggett, he heartily commended the idea, believing that the fruit would be very beneficial. The good people of Bridgeton took hold of the matter heartily, and in a short time forwarded to the regiment more than four hundred of Jersey's finest watermelons, fresh from the vines. These were distributed judiciously and the health of the men began to improve forthwith. Soon five hundred more arrived, sent by a patriotic citizen of Philadelphia. These were also distributed. Ladies of Brooklyn forwarded peaches and vegetables, and supplies of all sorts now were coming in abundance. Our men improved so rapidly as to be the occasion of remark by correspondents of the press. They were spoken of as being apparently in good condition. While engaged in the work of supplying their physical wants the chaplain was taken to task by a correspondent of Leslie's for being too much concerned in getting a carload of watermelons for his regiment, to go over to a graveyard and pray over the dead. The next day the chaplain made haste to go over to that particular graveyard to relieve the country from the crying shame that the correspondent had pointed out, only to find two men already there armed with prayer-books and one of them especially so fearful that he would not get a chance to read a prayer over a dead soldier, that the chaplain found it necessary to assure him that the opportunity to pray should not be taken from him ; and thus another popular horror was found to be without reality.

The colored ladies of Brooklyn organized a Soldiers' Aid Society, and besides contributing in a general way, as already mentioned, also made and presented to the soldiers about four hundred home-made pies, which were most highly appreciated. They also prepared a tasty souvenir commemorative of the heroic work performed by the troops in Cuba, and expressive of high appreciation of the gallantry of the colored regiments. A beautiful stand of colors was also procured for the Twenty-fourth Infantry, which were subsequently presented to the regiment with appropriate ceremonies.

At the camp were three colored chaplains and one colored surgeon, serving with the Regular Army, and their presence was of great value in the way of accustoming the people at large to beholding colored men as commissioned officers. To none were more attention shown than to these colored men, and there was apparently no desire to infringe upon their rights. Occasionally a very petty social movement might be made by an insignificant, with a view of humiliating a Negro chaplain, but such efforts usually died without harm to those aimed at and apparently without special comfort to those who engineered them.

The following paragraphs, written while in camp at the time indicated in them, may serve a good purpose by their insertion here, showing as they do the reflections of the writer as well as in outlining the more important facts associated with that remarkable encampment:

CAMP WIKOFF AND ITS LESSONS.

Now that the days of this camp are drawing to a close it is profitable to recall its unique history and gather up some of the lessons it has taught us. Despite all the sensationalism, investigations, testings, experimentation, and general condemnation, the camp at Montauk accomplished what was intended, and was itself a humane and patriotic establishment. It is not for me to say whether a better site might not have been selected, or whether the camp might not have been better managed. I will take it for granted that improvement might have been made in both respects, but our concern is rather with what was, than with what "might have been."

To appreciate Camp Wikoff we must consider two things specially; first, its purpose, and secondly, the short time allowed to prepare it; and then go over the whole subject and properly estimate its extent and the amount of labor involved.

The intention of the camp was to afford a place where our troops, returning from Cuba, prostrated with climatic fever, and probably infected with yellow fever, might receive proper medical treatment and care, until the diseases were subdued. The site was selected with this in view, and the conditions were admirably suited to such a purpose. Completely isolated, on dry soil, with dry pure air, cool climate, away from mosquitoes, the camp seemed all that was desired for a great field hospital.

Here the sick could come and receive the best that nature had to bestow in the way of respite from the heat, and pure ocean breezes, and, taken altogether, the experiences of August and a good part of September, have justified the selection of Montauk. While prostrations were occurring elsewhere, the camp was cool and delightful most of the time.

As to the preparations, it must be remembered that the recall of the whole Army of Invasion from Cuba was made in response to a popular demand, and as a measure of humanity. Bring the army home! was the call, and, Bring it at once!

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Such urgency naturally leaps ahead of minor preparations. The soldiers wanted to come; the people wanted them to come; hence the crowding of transports and the lack of comforts on the voyages; hence the lack of hospital accommodations when the troops began to arrive. Haste almost always brings about such things; but sometimes haste is imperative. This was the case in getting the army out of Cuba and into Camp at Montauk in August, '98. Haste was pushed to that point when omissions had to occur, and inconvenience and suffering resulted.

We must also remember the condition of the men who came to Montauk. About 4,000 were reported as sick before they left Cuba; but, roughly speaking, there were 10,000 sick men landing in Montauk. Those who were classed as well were, with rare exceptions, both mentally and physically incapable of high effort. It was an invalid army, with nearly one-half of its number seriously sick and suffering.

Ten thousand sick soldiers were never on our hands before, and the mighty problem was not realized until the transports began to emit their streams of weakness and walking death at Montauk. The preparation was altogether inadequate for such a mass of misery, and for a time all appeared confusion.

Then came severe, cruel, merciless criticisms; deserved in some cases no doubt, but certainly not everywhere. The faults, gaps, failures, were everywhere to be seen, and it was easy to see and to say what ought to have been done. But the situation at Camp Wikoff from August 15th to Sep. 15th needed more than censure; it needed help. The men who were working for the Government in both the medical and commissary departments needed assistance; the former in th e way of nurses, and the latter in the way of appropriate food. The censure and exposure indulged in by the press may have contributed to direct the attention of the benevolently disposed to the conditions in the camp.

Then came the era of ample help; from Massachusetts; from New York, in a word, from all over the country. The Merchants' Relief Association poured in its thousands of dollars worth of supplies, bringing them to the camp and distributing them generously and wisely. The Women's Patriotic Relief, the Women's War Relief, the International Brotherhood League, and the powerful Red Cross Society, all poured in food and comforts for the sick thousands. Besides these great organizations there were also the spontaneous offerings of the people, many of them generously distributed by the Brooklyn Daily Eagle's active representatives. The tent of that journal was an excellent way-mark and a veritable house of the good shepherd for many a lost wanderer, as well as a place of comfort, cheer and rest. The work done was very valuable and highly appreciated.

To the medical department came the trained hand of the female nurse. No one who saw these calm-faced, white-hooded sisters, or the cheery cheeked, white capped nurses from the schools, could fail to see that they were in the right place. The sick soldier's lot was brightened greatly when the gentle female nurse came to his cot. Woman can never be robbed of her right to nurse. This is one of the lessons taught by the Hispano-American War.

This vast army has been handled. No yellow fever has been spread. The general health has been restored. The disabled are mostly housed in hospitals, and many of them are on the road to recovery. Some have died; some are on furlough, and many have gone to their homes.

The regulars are repairing to their stations quite invigorated, and greatly helped in many ways by the kind treatment they have received. Camp Wikoff was not a failure; but a great and successful object lesson, as well as a great summer school in nationalism. Here black, white and Indian soldiers fraternized; here Northerners and Southerners served under the same orders. Ten thousand soldiers and as many civilians daily attended the best school of its kind ever held in this country, striving to take home to their hearts the lessons that God is teaching the nations.

The Rev. Sylvester Malone thus sums up the message of the war to us in his letter to the committee to welcome Brooklyn's soldiers:

"This short war has done so much for America at home and abroad that we must take every soldier to our warmest affection and send him back to peaceful pursuits on the conviction that there is nothing higher in our American life than to have the privilege to cheer and gladden the marine and the soldier that have left to America her brightest and best page of a great history. This past war must kindle in our souls a love of all the brethren, black as well as white, Catholic as well as Protestant, having but one language, one nationality, and it is to be hoped, yet one religion."

These are true words, as full of patriotism as they are of fraternity, and these are the two special lessons taught at Montauk—a broad, earnest, practical fraternity, and a love of country before which the petty prejudices of race and section were compelled to yield ground.

THE YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION IN CAMP WIKOFF.

The Young Men's Christian Association has done an excellent work in Camp Wikoff. Their tents have afforded facilities for profitable amusements, in the way of quiet games, thus bringing out the use of these games distinct from their abuse—gambling.

Their reading tables have also been well supplied with papers and magazines, religious and secular, generally very acceptable to the soldiers, as attested by the numbers that read them. But perhaps best of all, has been the provision made for the soldiers to write. Tables, pens, ink, paper and envelopes have been supplied in abundance. These were of great advantage to soldiers living in tents, and the work of the Association in this respect cannot be too highly commended.

The specially religious work of the Association as I have seen it, consists of three divisions: First, the meetings in their tents, held nightly and on Sundays. These have been vigorously carried on and well attended, the chaplains of the camp often rendering assistance. Secondly, I have noticed the Y.M.C.A. men visiting the sick in the hospitals and camps, giving the word of exhortation and help to the sick. Perhaps, however, in their work of private conversation with the well men, they have done as much real service for God as in either of the other two fields. They have made the acquaintance of many men and have won the respect of the camp. This I have numbered as the third division of their work—personal contact with the soldiers of the camp, at the same time keeping themselves "unspotted from the world."

The 24th Infantry was ordered down to Siboney to do guard duty. When the regiment reached the yellow-fever hospital it was found to be in a deplorable condition. Men were dying there every hour for the lack of proper nursing. Major Markley, who had commanded the regiment since July 1st, when Colonel Liscum was wounded, drew his regiment up in line, and Dr . La Garde, in charge of the hospital, explained the needs of the suffering, at the same time clearly setting forth the danger to men who were not immune, of nursing and attending yellow-fever patients. Major Markley then said that any man who wished to volunteer to nurse in the yellow-fever hospital could step forward. The whole regiment stepped forward. Sixty men were selected from the volunteers to nurse, and within forty-eight hours forty-two of these brave fellows were down seriously ill with yellow or pernicious malarial fever. Again the regiment was drawn up in line, and again Major Markley said that nurses were needed, and that any man who wished to do so could volunteer. After the object lesson which the men had received in the last few days of the danger from contagion to which they would be exposed, it was now unnecessary for Dr. La Garde to again warn the brave blacks of the terrible contagion. When the request for volunteers to replace those who had already fallen in the performance of their dangerous and perfectly optional duty was made again, the regiment stepped forward as one man. When sent down from the trenches the regiment consisted of eight companies, averaging about forty men each. Of the officers and men who remained on duty the forty days spent in Siboney, only twenty-four escaped without serious illness, and of this handful not a few succumbed to fevers on the voyage home and after their arrival at Montauk.

As a result, thirty-six died and about forty were discharged from the regiment owing to disabilities resulting from sickness which began in the yellow-fever hospital.—Bonsal's Fight for Santiago.