This was the bright side of war, and, as each soldier was intent on getting to the front, it was the exception rather than the rule to hear of a misdemeanor being committed, or even to hear of a man being confined to the “guard house.”
Newport News was a gay place in ’98. Its people were very hospitable and friendly with the troops. Old Point Comfort and the Forts of Hampton Roads were but a short run by rail from the camp, and these were favorite resorts of the soldiers. Great excitement prevailed when the order for the Porto Rican expedition—“Pennsylvania Cavalry to the front”—was received.
The transport Manitoba had been fitted from an old cattle scow to a serviceable troop-ship, and had just returned from conveying a detachment of “Rough Riders” to Cuba. This vessel was spacious but lacking in the accommodations of our present-day transports that ply the Pacific. Considerable
time was spent in getting our horses and munitions of war on board. When the signal to cast loose and provide was given we had on board three troops of cavalry, three batteries of field artillery, one battalion of Kentucky infantry, and detachments of engineer, hospital, and signal corps, seven hundred head of horses, and three hundred head of mules, besides the cargo of munitions of war.
Our time on board was occupied in preparing for a harder campaign than materialized. Carbines and six-shooters were oiled, and sabers burnished (the scabbards of these, being nickel-plated, required merely a coating of oil to keep them from rust). Our boots were greased, and the front and rear sights of our carbines were blackened. The boys scalloped the rims of their campaign hats, and some were tattooed by adepts in the art. Cards and reading were other pastimes of the voyage.
The fifth day out the United States cruiser Columbia and battleship Indiana were sighted; they had come to convoy the ship into the harbor of Playa Del Ponce.
Arriving in the harbor at night, we had the misfortune to run on a sand-bar, where, being compelled to anchor with a list of about forty degrees, the possibility of our landing at night became rather vague. While making preparations for an attempt to land, a heavy gale encompassed the bay, making our position perilous, and, as this continued throughout the following day, it was with the utmost difficulty that our horses and mules were landed, a number of them being swung overboard and allowed to swim ashore.
Having finally reached the ground of the enemy, great precaution was taken to avoid a surprise; the water was inspected to make sure that it contained no poisonous substance and the orders in posting sentinels were rigidly enforced—each sentry before being posted had to be thoroughly familiar with his orders, being required to repeat them verbatim, and was also admonished as to the importance of keeping constantly on the alert. He was forewarned that to be found asleep on post in the enemy’s country meant to be tried by court-martial and if convicted to suffer the penalty of death.
Our first rendezvous was alongside of an old Spanish cathedral, surrounded by plantations of sugarcane, coffee, hemp, and tobacco; here we pitched a camp of shelter or “dog-tents” as they were generally called. As we were getting our accoutrements of war in shape the rapid fire of the Sixteenth Pennsylvania engaging the enemy could be distinctly heard, this engagement, however, being of short duration, like all other Spanish-American encounters in the West Indies.
Playa Del Ponce is the port of the city of Ponce, and is the shipping point for that section of the Island of Porto Rico. The town is surrounded by rich plantations of tobacco, coffee, sugarcane, and rice, also trees teeming with oranges, cocoanuts, guavas, lemons, grape-fruit, and groves of bananas and plantains. The staple production of the island is tobacco, from which is manufactured a very choice brand of cigars. The city of Ponce lies inland a distance of about three miles, and is typically Spanish in its architecture.