Our War with Spain for Cuba's Freedom

by Trumbull White

CHAPTER XXXIX.

BATTLESHIPS AND TROOPS BEGIN TO MOVE.

The North Atlantic Squadron Sent to Key West—Commodore Schley at
Hampton Roads—The Voyage of the Oregon—The Camp at Chickamauga—
Where the Initial Work of Mobilizing the Troops Was Done—Life at
Camp Thomas—Life on the Famous Battle Field—Rendezvous at Fort
Tampa—The Great Artillery Camp.

Immediately following the action of Congress authorizing the
President to call into service the army and navy of the United
States, the North Atlantic squadron, under command of Captain
Sampson, was mobilized at Key West. It consisted of the following
vessels: Battleships Iowa and Indiana, armored cruiser New York,
the monitors Puritan, Terror and Amphitrite, the gunboats
Nashville, Castine, Machias, Wilmington and Helena, the cruisers
Detroit, Cincinnati and Marblehead, and the torpedo-boats Cushing,
Ericsson, Dupont, Foote, Winslow, Porter and Mayflower.

These comprised a hard fighting aggregation under a cool and daring fighter. The two first-class battleships were not equaled in fighting power by anything in the Spanish navy, and the New York was one of the best fighting ships of her kind in the world.

Commodore Winfield Scott Schley and the fighters of his flying squadron were gathered at Hampton Roads, impatient for orders from Washington to face the foe. Far away in Pacific waters Commodore Dewey was cabled the command to hold himself in readiness to proceed to Manila, and the good ship Oregon, under command of Captain Clarke, was steaming her way around Cape Horn to join the fleet in Cuban waters.

In the army equal activity was shown.

THE CAMP AT CHICKAMAUGA.

Chickamauga Park, near Chattanooga, Tenn., was the point of concentration for the regular troops which were gathered for the war with Spain. It was the initial camp where the mobilization took place, and from which soldiers and supplies were dispatched to seacoast towns within easy striking distance of Cuba. When orders went out from army headquarters at Washington for the movement of the regulars to Chickamauga a thrill of soldierly pride swelled the breast of every man who wore Uncle Sam's blue uniform, and there was a hasty dash for the new camp. There is nothing an army man, officer or private, dislikes so much as inactivity. Fighting, especially against a foreign foe, suits him better than dawdling away his time in idleness, and word to "get to the front" is always welcome.

For nearly three weeks troops poured into Chickamauga on every train. They came from all parts of the country, and from every regiment and branch of the service. There were "dough-boys" and cavalry-men, engineers and artillerymen; some regiments were there in force, others were represented by detachments only. There were companies and parts of companies, squadrons and parts of squadrons, batteries and parts of batteries. It was a bringing together of Uncle Sam's soldier boys from all conceivable sections of the country. They came from posts in California and Texas, from Wyoming and Maine, from Colorado and Minnesota. In time of peace the regular army is badly scattered. It is seldom that an entire regiment is stationed at one post, the companies being distributed over a wide area of territory. A mobilization, therefore, like that at Chickamauga, tended to consolidate and put new life into commands which had been badly dismembered by the exigencies of the service. Old comrades were brought together and there was a sort of general reunion and glorification. Men who had been doing police duty near big cities met those who had been watching Indians on the plains, or chasing greaser bandits on the border line. They exchanged stories and prepared for the stern realities of war with a vigor which boded ill for the foe they were to face.

Uncle Sam's soldier is a great grumbler when in idleness. He finds fault with his officers, his food, his quarters, his clothing, his pay, and even with himself. Nothing pleases him. He records big, sonorous oaths about his idiocy in swearing away his liberty for a term of years. But let the alarm of war sound, show him active preparations for a scrimmage with the enemy, and the "regular" is happy. This was the condition which prevailed at Chickamauga. The men were full of enthusiasm and worked as hard as the proverbial beavers. Drills once distasteful and shirked whenever possible were gone through with alacrity and the "boy in blue" was a true soldier, every inch of him. There was war in sight.

LIFE AT CAMP THOMAS.

On one point at least there was an accord of opinion in rank and file—the camp was well named. "Camp George H. Thomas" they called it, in memory of old "Pap," the hero of Chickamauga, and men and officers alike took a very visible pride in being residents of the tented city. The establishment of the community at Camp Thomas was much like the establishment of a colony in an unsettled land, in so far as domestic conveniences were concerned. Everything had to be taken there, and each regiment, which was a small canvas town in itself, had to depend entirely upon its own resources. Dotted here and there throughout the entire expanse of the fifteen-mile reservation, these cities of tents were seen, and the brave men who lived in them depended upon themselves and each other for what little entertainment they got. A description of the quarters of one officer will serve for all. An "A," or wall tent, 10 by 12 feet, and some of them a size smaller, was his house. On one side a folding camp cot, with a thin yet comfortable mattress and an abundance of heavy, woolen army blankets. A table about twenty inches square, with legs that fold up into the smallest possible space, stood near the door at the foot of the cot. A folding chair or two for his visitors, a large valise or a very small trunk, a bit of looking glass hanging from a tent pole, a tubular lantern, or, if the tenant of the tent was not so fortunate as to possess such a modern light, then a candle attached to a stick in the ground beside his bed. Tie strings attached to the rear wall of the tent afforded a hanging place for "his other shirt" and a pair of extra shoes. His leggings and boots were on his feet, and his belt, pistol and saber stood in a corner. A pad of writing paper, pocket inkstand, a razor strop, unless he had foresworn shaving, a briar or corn-cob pipe, and a bag of tobacco completed the furnishings of his house. Commanding officers, at regimental headquarters, had an extra roof, or "tent fly," as an awning in front of their quarters, but otherwise lived as other officers did.

The enlisted men, quartered in the conical wall tents now adopted by the army, bunked with heads to the wall and feet toward the center, from nine to twelve in a tent Their bedding and blankets were good and they were as comfortable as soldiers could hope to be in the field. Some of the regiments from the remote Northwest had the Sibley conical tent, which has no wall, but which has a small sheet iron stove. These were more than appreciated during the cold, rainy weather that prevailed at Camp Thomas.

The mess tents and cookhouses are about alike in all the arms of the service. The "cuddy-bunk" oven, made of sheet, iron, bakes well and looks like two iron pans fastened together, one upon the top of the other. Men detailed as cooks and waiters, or "kitchen police," as they are denominated in the posts, attended to the preparation and serving of the meals, and the soldiers lived well, indeed. Field rations were used when in transit from point to point, but when in camp the company or troop mess purchased fresh meats, vegetables, eggs, fruits, etc., and lived high.

RENDEZVOUS AT FORT TAMPA.

Twenty-eight batteries of artillery, almost the entire complement of this branch of the United States army, were in camp at Port Tampa, Fla., awaiting orders to make a descent upon the Spanish forces in Cuba. This great gathering of artillery was the feature of the camp. Infantry and cavalry troops were held there also, and their number increased every day, but it was in the artillery that the civilian spectators took the most interest. This may be said without disparagement of the "dough boys" and "hostlers," notwithstanding the fact that there were some of Uncle Sam's most famous fighters in both lines of service stationed at Tampa, among them being the Ninth cavalry, and the Fourth, Fifth, Ninth, Thirteenth and Twenty-fourth infantry. No cavalry regiment has a finer record than the Ninth, the "buffalo" troopers, who gave the Sioux and Apaches more fighting than they wanted, but Southern people have no use for negro soldiers, and their laudations went to the white artillerymen.

No such aggregation of light and heavy artillery has been gathered before at any one city in the United States, even in war time.

Life in camp at Tampa was much the same as at Chickamauga, except that the weather was much hotter. To offset this, however, the boys had fine sea bathing, good opportunities for sailing parties, and the best of fresh fish with which to leaven their rations of salt horse and hardtack. It is astonishing how quickly a man learns to forage and cook after joining the regular army. Three months of service will transform the greenest of counter-jumpers into an expert in the art of enticing chickens from their coops and turning them into savory stews. One of the troopers of the Ninth cavalry was called "Chickens," from his predilections in this line. There were orders against foraging, of course; there always are in friendly territory, but they never amount to much. The officers knew they were disobeyed, but they winked the other eye and said nothing. It is hinted that in this course may be often found an explanation of the lavishness with which the officers' mess is served. One night Major—was smoking a nightcap cigar just outside his tent, when he caught sight of "Chickens" stealing past in the shade of the trees. "Chickens" of course was halted and asked why he was prowling around at that time of night. Before the culprit could frame an excuse the Major noticed a suspicious bulging of the front of the trooper's blouse, and an uneasy, twisting motion within. It was plain to him that "Chickens" had been foraging, and was getting back into quarters with his plunder.

"Been foraging, hey?" said the Major. "Don't you know it's against orders?"

"Chickens" stammered out a denial, when the Major, making a sudden grab at the front of his blouse, tore it open, and out fell two plump pullets.

"Stealing hens, hey?" said the Major. "You'll go to the clink for this."

"Ah didn't dun steal 'em, Majah," said "Chickens," with brazen effrontery. "Ah 'clar to goodness Ah didn't know dem pullets was dar. Mus' have crawled into mah blous t' keep wahm, Majah."

The reply tickled the veteran so much that he let "Chickens" pass, and the next morning there was one officer at the post who had stewed pullet for breakfast.

One of the most famous regiments of infantry at Tampa was the Thirteenth. It has the well-earned reputation of being a good fighting body. Some of the most distinguished officers of the army have been on its rolls in time past, among them Sherman and Sheridan. The history of the Thirteenth goes back to May 14, 1861, when President Lincoln directed its organization. The first colonel was William T. Sherman, who re-entered the army after a number of years engaged in banking and the practice of law. C. C. Augur was one of the majors, and Philip H. Sheridan was a captain. Sheridan joined the regiment in November, 1861, but was soon appointed chief commissary and quartermaster to the Army of Southwest Missouri, which practically severed his connection with the regiment.

In 1862 the first battalion of the regiment entered on active service in the Mississippi valley. It engaged in the Yazoo expedition under Sherman, who was by that time a major-general of volunteers, and took part later in Grant's operations around Vicksburg. The battalion won for its colors the proud inscription, "First Honor at Vicksburg," and lost 43.3 per cent of its force in the attack on the Confederates. Among the dead was its then commander, who died on the parapet. Sherman's nine-year-old son, Willie, who was with his father at Vicksburg, was playfully christened a "sergeant" of the Thirteenth battalion, and his death of fever in October, 1863, called forth a sorrowful letter from General Sherman to the commander of the Thirteenth. "Please convey to the battalion my heartfelt thanks," he wrote, "and assure each and all that if in after years they call on me or mine, and mention that they were of the Thirteenth regulars when Willie was a sergeant, they will have a key to the affections of my family that will open all it has; that we will share with them our last blanket, our last crust!"

After the war the regiment was transferred to the West. It was employed in Kansas, Montana, Dakota, Utah, Wyoming and elsewhere until 1874, for a large part of the time serving almost continuously against hostile Indians. In 1874 it was moved to New Orleans, and was engaged on duty in the Department of the South for six years. During the labor riots of 1877 all but two companies were on duty at Pittsburg, Scranton, Wilkesbarre and other points in Pennsylvania. Then back to the West it went again, and, with some slight vacations, remained on the frontier until October, 1894, when it was transferred to various posts in New York State.