CHAPTER V.
PASSAGE, LANDING, AND FIRST BATTLE IN CUBA.
The Tenth Cavalry at Guasimas—The "Rescue of the Rough Riders"—Was There an Ambush?—Notes.
"The passage to Santiago was generally smooth and uneventful," says General Shafter in his official report. But when the fact is called to mind that the men had been on board a week before sailing, and were a week more on the passage, and that "the conveniences on many of the transports in the nature of sleeping accommodations, space for exercise, closet accommodations, etc., were not all that could have been desired," and that the opinion was general throughout the army that the travel ration was faulty, it cannot be doubted that the trip was a sore trial to the enlisted men at least. The monotonous days passed in the harbor at Port Tampa, while waiting for orders to sail, were unusually trying to the men. They were relieved somewhat by bathing, swimming, gaming and chatting on the coming events. A soldier who was in one of the colored regiments describes the inside life of one of the transports as follows: "After some miles of railroad travel and much hustling we were put on board the transport. I say on board, but it is simply because we cannot use the terms under board. We were huddled together below two other regiments and under the water line, in the dirtiest, closest, most sickening place imaginable. For about fifteen days we were on the water in this dirty hole, but being soldiers we were compelled to accept this without a murmur. We ate corn beef and canned tomatoes with our hard bread until we were anything but half way pleased. In the fifth or sixth day out to sea the water furnished us became muddy or dirty and well flavored with salt, and remained so during the rest of the journey. Then, the ship's cooks, knowing well our condition made it convenient to themselves to sell us a glass of clean ice water and a small piece of bread and tainted meat for the sum of seventy-five cents, or one dollar, as the case might be."
A passage from Port Tampa, around the eastern end of Cuba, through the Windward Passage, even in June, is ordinarily pleasant. On the deck of a clean steamer, protected from the sun's rays by a friendly awning, it may be put down as nearly an ideal pleasure trip; but crowded into freight ships as these men were, many of them clad in thick and uncomfortable clothing, reduced to the uninviting travel ration, compelled to spend most of the time below decks, occupied with thoughts of home and friends, and beset with forebodings of coming events, it was very far from being to them a pastime. Of the thousands who are going to Cuba to magnify the American flag, not all will return. Occasionally the gay music of the bands would relieve the dull routine and cause the spirits to rise under the effects of some enlivening waltz or stirring patriotic air; or entering a school of flying fish the men would be entertained to see these broad-finned creatures dart from the waves like arrows from the bow, and after a graceful flight of perhaps near two hundred yards drop again into the sea; but taken altogether it was a voyage that furnishes little for the historian.
The transports were so arranged as to present an interesting and picturesque spectacle as they departed from our shores on their ocean march. Forming in three columns, with a distance of about 1,000 yards between the columns, and the vessels in the columns being distanced from one another about 400 yards, the fleet was convoyed from Port Tampa by small naval vessels until it reached a point between the Dry Tortugas and Key West. Here it was met by the noble battleship Indiana and nine other war vessels, thus making a convoy altogether of fifteen fighting craft. Transports and convoy now made an armada of more than forty ships, armed and manned by the audacious modern republic whose flag waved from every masthead. Thus spreading out over miles of smooth sea, moving quietly along by steam, carrying in its arms the flower of the American army, every man of which was an athlete, this fleet announced to the world the grim purpose of a nation aroused.
The weather from the time of leaving Port Tampa continued fine until the fleet entered the passage between the western coast of Hayti and the eastern end of Cuba, known as the Windward Passage, when the breeze freshened and a rough sea began, continuing more or less up to the time of landing. Rounding this eastern coast of Cuba the fleet headed its course westerly and on the morning of the 20th was able to determine its position as being off Guantanamo Bay, about fifty miles east of Santiago. Here, eight days before, the first battle on Cuban soil, in which four American marines were killed, had been fought. About noon on the same day, the fleet came to a halt off Santiago harbor, or a little to the west of the entrance to it, and Admiral Sampson came on board. He and General Shafter soon after went ashore to consult the Cuban General, Garcia, who was known to be in that vicinity with about 4,000 well armed troops.
The voyage over, and the men having been crowded together on shipboard for nearly two weeks, it was now expedient to get them on shore as soon as possible. But it was necessary to find out beforehand what defences were along the coast, and what forces of the enemy were likely to be encountered in landing. The fleet lay off from the shore about a mile, and it was no small undertaking to convey the 17,000 men on board with all their arms and equipments to the shore in small boats over a rough sea, especially should the landing be disputed. It was to arrange for the landing and also to map out a general plan of campaign that the three great leaders, Shafter, Sampson and Garcia met at Aserradores on the afternoon of June 20th as the American fleet stood guard over the harbor of Santiago.