History of the World/History of the World (Bureau Development, Inc.)(1992).BIN/dp/0435/04358.txt

Text File | 1992-10-12 | 34KB | 505 lines

$Unique_ID{how04358}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Rough Riders
Part II}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Roosevelt, Theodore}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{wounded
spaniards
cavalry
lieutenant
spanish
officers
killed
infantry
time
trenches}
$Date{}
$Log{}
Title:       Rough Riders
Book:        Chapter IV: The Cavalry At Santiago
Author:      Roosevelt, Theodore

Part II

     The infantry got nearer and nearer the crest of the hill.  At last we
could see the Spaniards running from the rifle-pits as the Americans came on
in their final rush.  Then I stopped my men for fear they should injure their
comrades, and called to them to charge the next line of trenches, on the hills
in our front, from which we had been undergoing a good deal of punishment.
Thinking that the men would all come, I jumped over the wire fence in front of
us and started at the double; but, as a matter of fact, the troopers were so
excited, what with shooting and being shot, and shouting and cheering, that
they did not hear, or did not heed me; and after running about a hundred yards
I found I had only five men along with me.  Bullets were ripping the grass all
around us, and one of the men, Clay Green, was mortally wounded; another,
Winslow Clark, a Harvard man, was shot first in the leg and then through the
body.  He made not the slightest murmur, only asking me to put his water
canteen where he could get at it, which I did; he ultimately recovered.  There
was no use going on with the remaining three men, and I bade them stay where
they were while I went back and brought up the rest of the brigade.  This was
a decidedly cool request, for there was really no possible point in letting
them stay there while I went back; but at the moment it seemed perfectly
natural to me, and apparently so to them, for they cheerfully nodded, and sat
down in the grass, firing back at the line of trenches from which the
Spaniards were shooting at them.  Meanwhile, I ran back, jumped over the wire
fence, and went over the crest of the hill, filled with anger against the
troopers, and especially those of my own regiment, for not having accompanied
me. They, of course, were quite innocent of wrong-doing; and even while I
taunted them bitterly for not having followed me, it was all I could do not to
smile at the look of injury and surprise that came over their faces, while
they cried out, "We didn't hear you, we didn't see you go, Colonel; lead on
now, we'll sure follow you." I wanted the other regiments to come too, so I
ran down to where General Sumner was and asked him if I might make the charge;
and he told me to go and that he would see that the men followed.  By this
time everybody had his attention attracted, and when I leaped over the fence
again, with Major Jenkins beside me, the men of the various regiments which
were already on the hill came with a rush, and we started across the wide
valley which lay between us and the Spanish intrenchments.  Captain Dimmick,
now in command of the Ninth, was bringing it forward; Captain McBlain had a
number of Rough Riders mixed in with his troop, and led them all together;
Captain Taylor had been severely wounded. The long-legged men like Greenway,
Goodrich, sharp-shooter Proffit, and others, outstripped the rest of us, as we
had a considerable distance to go.  Long before we got near them the Spaniards
ran, save a few here and there, who either surrendered or were shot down.
When we reached the trenches we found them filled with dead bodies in the
light blue and white uniform of the Spanish regular army.  There were very few
wounded.  Most of the fallen had little holes in their heads from which their
brains were oozing; for they were covered from the neck down by the trenches.

     It was at this place that Major Wessels, of the Third Cavalry, was shot
in the back of the head.  It was a severe wound, but after having it bound up
he again came to the front in command of his regiment.  Among the men who were
foremost was Lieutenant Milton F. Davis, of the First Cavalry. He had been
joined by three men of the Seventy-first New York, who ran up, and, saluting,
said, "Lieutenant, we want to go with you, our officers won't lead us." One of
the brave fellows was soon afterward shot in the face.  Lieutenant Davis's
first sergeant, Clarence Gould, killed a Spanish soldier with his revolver,
just as the Spaniard was aiming at one of my Rough Riders.  At about the same
time I also shot one.  I was with Henry Bardshar, running up at the double,
and two Spaniards leaped from the trenches and fired at us, not ten yards
away.  As they turned to run I closed in and fired twice, missing the first
and killing the second.  My revolver was from the sunken battle-ship Maine,
and had been given me by my brother-in-law, Captain W. S. Cowles, of the Navy.
At the time I did not know of Gould's exploit, and supposed my feat to be
unique; and although Gould had killed his Spaniard in the trenches, not very
far from me, I never learned of it until weeks after.  It is astonishing what
a limited area of vision and experience one has in the hurly-burly of a
battle.

     There was very great confusion at this time, the different regiments
being completely intermingled - white regulars, colored regulars, and Rough
Riders.  General Sumner had kept a considerable force in reserve on Kettle
Hill, under Major Jackson, of the Third Cavalry.  We were still under a heavy
fire and I got together a mixed lot of men and pushed on from the trenches and
ranch-houses which we had just taken, driving the Spaniards through a line of
palm-trees, and over the crest of a chain of hills.  When we reached these
crests we found ourselves overlooking Santiago.  Some of the men, including
Jenkins, Greenway, and Goodrich, pushed on almost by themselves far ahead.
Lieutenant Hugh Berkely, of the First, with a sergeant and two troopers,
reached the extreme front.  He was, at the time, ahead of everyone; the
sergeant was killed and one trooper wounded; but the lieutenant and the
remaining trooper stuck to their post for the rest of the afternoon until our
line was gradually extended to include them.

     While I was re-forming the troops on the chain of hills, one of General
Sumner's aides, Captain Robert Howze - as dashing and gallant an officer as
there was in the whole gallant cavalry division, by the way - came up with
orders to me to halt where I was, not advancing farther, but to hold the hill
at all hazards.  Howze had his horse, and I had some difficulty in making him
take proper shelter; he stayed with us for quite a time, unable to make up his
mind to leave the extreme front, and meanwhile jumping at the chance to render
any service, of risk or otherwise, which the moment developed.

     I now had under me all the fragments of the six cavalry regiments which
were at the extreme front, being the highest officer left there, and I was in
immediate command of them for the remainder of the afternoon and that night.
The Ninth was over to the right, and the Thirteenth Infantry afterward came up
beside it.  The rest of Kent's infantry was to our left. Of the Tenth,
Lieutenants Anderson, Muller, and Fleming reported to me; Anderson was
slightly wounded, but he paid no heed to this.  All three, like every other
officer, had troopers of various regiments under them; such mixing was
inevitable in making repeated charges through thick jungle; it was essentially
a troop commanders', indeed, almost a squad leaders', fight.  The Spaniards
who had been holding the trenches and the line of hills, had fallen back upon
their supports and we were under a very heavy fire both from rifles and great
guns.  At the point where we were, the grass-covered hill-crest was gently
rounded, giving poor cover, and I made my men lie down on the hither slope.

     On the extreme left Captain Beck, of the Tenth, with his own troop, and
small bodies of the men of other regiments, was exercising a practically
independent command, driving back the Spaniards whenever they showed any
symptoms of advancing.  He had received his orders to hold the line at all
hazards from Lieutenant Andrews, one of General Sumner's aides, just as I had
received mine from Captain Howze.  Finally, he was relieved by some infantry,
and then rejoined the rest of the Tenth, which was engaged heavily until dark,
Major Wint being among the severely wounded. Lieutenant W. N. Smith was
killed.  Captain Bigelow had been wounded three times.

     Our artillery made one or two efforts to come into action on the
firing-line of the infantry, but the black powder rendered each attempt
fruitless.  The Spanish guns used smokeless powder, so that it was difficult
to place them.  In this respect they were on a par with their own infantry and
with our regular infantry and dismounted cavalry; but our only two volunteer
infantry regiments, the Second Massachusetts and the Seventy- first New York,
and our artillery, all had black powder.  This rendered the two volunteer
regiments, which were armed with the antiquated Springfield, almost useless in
the battle, and did practically the same thing for the artillery wherever it
was formed within rifle range.  When one of the guns was discharged a thick
cloud of smoke shot out and hung over the place, making an ideal target, and
in a half minute every Spanish gun and rifle within range was directed at the
particular spot thus indicated; the consequence was that after a more or less
lengthy stand the gun was silenced or driven off.  We got no appreciable help
from our guns on July 1st.  Our men were quick to realize the defects of our
artillery, but they were entirely philosophic about it, not showing the least
concern at its failure.  On the contrary, whenever they heard our artillery
open they would grin as they looked at one another and remark, "There go the
guns again; wonder how soon they'll be shut up," and shut up they were sure to
be.  The light battery of Hotchkiss one-pounders, under Lieutenant J. B.
Hughes, of the Tenth Cavalry, was handled with conspicuous gallantry.

     On the hill-slope immediately around me I had a mixed force composed of
members of most of the cavalry regiments, and a few infantrymen.  There were
about fifty of my Rough Riders with Lieutenants Goodrich and Carr. Among the
rest were perhaps a score of colored infantrymen, but, as it happened, at this
particular point without any of their officers.  No troops could have behaved
better that the colored soldiers had behaved so far; but they are, of course,
peculiarly dependent upon their white officers.  Occasionally they produce
non-commissioned officers who can take the initiative and accept
responsibility precisely like the best class of whites; but this cannot be
expected normally, nor is it fair to expect it. With the colored troops there
should always be some of their own officers; whereas, with the white regulars,
as with my own Rough Riders, experience showed that the non-commissioned
officers could usually carry on the fight by themselves if they were once
started, no matter whether their officers were killed or not.

     At this particular time it was trying for the men, as they were lying
flat on their faces, very rarely responding to the bullets, shells, and
shrapnel which swept over the hill-top, and which occasionally killed or
wounded one of their number.  Major Albert G. Forse, of the First Cavalry, a
noted Indian fighter, was killed about this time.  One of my best men,
Sergeant Greenly, of Arizona, who was lying beside me, suddenly said, "Beg
pardon, Colonel; but I've been hit in the leg." I asked, "Badly?" He said,
"Yes, Colonel; quite badly." After one of his comrades had helped him fix up
his leg with a first-aid-to-the-injured bandage, he limped off to the rear.

     None of the white regulars or Rough Riders showed the slightest sign of
weakening; but under the strain the colored infantrymen (who had none of their
officers) began to get a little uneasy and to drift to the rear, either
helping wounded men, or saying that they wished to find their own regiments.
This I could not allow, as it was depleting my line, so I jumped up, and
walking a few yards to the rear, drew my revolver, halted the retreating
soldiers, and called out to them that I appreciated the gallantry with which
they had fought and would be sorry to hurt them, but that I should shoot the
first man who, on any pretence whatever, went to the rear.  My own men had all
sat up and were watching my movements with the utmost interest; so was Captain
Howze.  I ended my statement to the colored soldiers by saying: "Now, I shall
be very sorry to hurt you, ond you don't know whether or not I will keep my
word, but my men can tell you that I always do;" whereupon my cow-punchers,
hunters, and miners solemnly nodded their heads and commented in chorus,
exactly as if in a comic opera, "He always does; he always does!"

     This was the end of the trouble, for the "smoked Yankees" - as the
Spaniards called the colored soldiers - flashed their white teeth at one
another, as they broke into broad grins, and I had no more trouble with them,
they seeming to accept me as one of their own officers.  The colored
cavalry-men had already so accepted me; in return, the Rough Riders, although
for the most part Southwesterners, who have a strong color prejudice, grew to
accept them with hearty good-will as comrades, and were entirely willing, in
their own phrase, "to drink out of the same canteen." Where all the regular
officers did so well, it is hard to draw any distinction; but in the cavalry
division a peculiar meed of praise should be given to the officers of the
Ninth and Tenth for their work, and under their leadership the colored troops
did as well as any soldiers could possibly do.

     In the course of the afternoon the Spaniards in our front made the only
offensive movement which I saw them make during the entire campaign; for what
were ordinarily called "attacks" upon our lines consisted merely of heavy
firing from their trenches and from their skirmishers.  In this case they did
actually begin to make a forward movement, their cavalry coming up as well as
the marines and reserve infantry, ^* while their skirmishers, who were always
bold, redoubled their activity.  It could not be called a charge, and not only
was it not pushed home, but it was stopped almost as soon as it began, our men
immediately running forward to the crest of the hill with shouts of delight at
seeing their enemies at last came into the open.  A few seconds' firing
stopped their advance and drove them into the cover of the trenches.

[Footnote *: Lieutenant Tejeiro speaks of this attempt to retake San Juan and
its failure.]

     They kept up a very heavy fire for some time longer, and our men again
lay down, only replying occasionally.  Suddenly we heard on our right the
peculiar drumming sound which had been so welcome in th  morning, when the
infantry were assailing the San Juan block-house.  The Gatlings were up again!
I started over to inquire, and found that Lieutenant Parker, not content with
using his guns in support of the attacking forces, had thrust them forward to
the extreme front of the fighting line, where he was handling them with great
effect.  From this time on, throughout the fighting, Parker's Gatlings were on
the right of my regiment, and his men and mine fraternized in every way.  He
kept his pieces at the extreme front, using them on every occasion until the
last Spanish shot was fired. Indeed, the dash and efficiency with which the
Gatlings were handled by Parker was one of the most striking features of the
campaign; he showed that a first-rate officer could use machine-guns, on
wheels, in battle and skirmish, in attacking and defending trenches, alongside
of the best troops, and to their great advantage.

     As night came on, the firing gradually died away.  Before this happened,
however, Captains Morton and Boughton, of the Third Cavalry, came over to tell
me that a rumor had reached them to the effect that there had been some talk
of retiring and that they wished to protest in the strongest manner.  I had
been watching them both, as they handled their troops with the cool confidence
of the veteran regular officer, and had been congratulating myself that they
were off toward the right flank, for as long as they were there, I knew I was
perfectly safe in that direction.  I had heard no rumor about retiring, and I
cordially agreed with them that it would be far worse than a blunder to
abandon our position.

     To attack the Spaniards by rushing across open ground, or through wire
entanglements and low, almost impassable jungle, without the help of
artillery, and to force unbroken infantry, fighting behind earthworks and
armed with the best repeating weapons, supported by cannon, was one thing; to
repel such an attack ourselves, or to fight our foes on anything like even
terms in the open, was quite another thing.  No possible number of Spaniards
coming at us from in front could have driven us from our position, and there
was not a man on the crest who did not eagerly and devoutly hope that our
opponents would make the attempt, for it would surely have been followed, not
merely by a repulse, but by our immediately taking the city.  There was not an
officer or a man on the firing-line, so far as I saw them, who did not feel
this way.

     As night fell, some of my men went back to the buildings in our rear and
foraged through them, for we had now been fourteen hours charging and fighting
without food.  They came across what was evidently the Spanish officers' mess,
where their dinner was still cooking, and they brought it to the front in high
glee.  It was evident that the Spanish officers were living well, however the
Spanish rank and file were faring.  There were three big iron pots, one filled
with beef-stew, one with boiled rice, and one with boiled peas; there was a
big demijohn of rum (all along the trenches which the Spaniards held were
empty wine and liquor bottles); there were a number of loaves of rice-bread;
and there were even some small cans of preserves and a few salt fish.  Of
course, among so many men, the food, which was equally divided, did not give
very much to each, but it freshened us all.

     Soon after dark, General Wheeler, who in the afternoon had resumed
command of the cavalry division, came to the front.  A very few words with
Genera  Wheeler reassured us about retiring.  He had been through too much
heavy fighting in the Civil War to regard the present fight as very serious,
and he told us not to be under any apprehension, for he had sent word that
there was no need whatever of retiring, and was sure we would stay where we
were until the chance came to advance.  He was second in command; and to him
more than to any other one man was due the prompt abandonment of the proposal
to fall back - a proposal which, if adopted, would have meant shame and
disaster.

     Shortly afterward General Wheeler sent us orders to intrench.  The men of
the different regiments were now getting in place again and sifting themselves
out.  All of our troops who had been kept at Kettle Hill came forward and
rejoined us after nightfall.  During the afternoon Greenway, apparently not
having enough to do in the fighting, had taken advantage of a lull to explore
the buildings himself, and had found a number of Spanish intrenching tools,
picks, and shovels, and these we used in digging trenches along our line.  The
men were very tired indeed, but they went cheerfully to work, all the officers
doing their part.

     Crockett, the ex-Revenue officer from Georgia, was a slight man, not
physically very strong.  He came to me and told me he didn't think he would be
much use in digging, but that he had found a lot of Spanish coffee and would
spend his time making coffee for the men, if I approved.  I did approve very
heartily, and Crockett officiated as cook for the next three or four hours
until the trench was dug, his coffee being much appreciated by all of us.

     So many acts of gallantry were performed during the day that it is quite
impossible to notice them all, and it seems unjust to single out any; yet I
shall mention a few, which it must always be remembered are to stand, not as
exceptions, but as instances of what very many men did.  It happened that I
saw these myself.  There were innumerable others, which either were not seen
at all, or were seen only by officers who happened not to mention them; and,
of course, I know chiefly those that happened in my own regiment.

     Captain Llewellen was a large, heavy man, who had a grown-up son in the
ranks.  On the march he had frequently carried the load of some man who
weakened, and he was not feeling well on the morning of the fight.
Nevertheless, he kept at the head of his troop all day.  In the charging and
rushing, he not only became very much exhausted, but finally fell, wrenching
himself terribly, and though he remained with us all night, he was so sick by
morning that we had to take him behind the hill into an improvised hospital.
Lieutenant Day, after handling his troop with equal gallantry and efficiency,
was shot, on the summit of Kettle Hill.  He was hit in the arm and was forced
to go to the rear, but he would not return to the States, and rejoined us at
the front long before his wound was healed. Lieutenant Leahy was also wounded,
not far from him.  Thirteen of the men were wounded and yet kept on fighting
until the end of the day, and in some cases never went to the rear at all,
even to have their wounds dressed. They were Corporals Waller and Fortescue
and Trooper McKinley of Troop E; Corporal Roades of Troop D; Troopers
Albertson, Winter, McGregor, and Ray Clark of Troop F; Troopers Bugbee,
Jackson, and Waller of Troop A; Trumpeter McDonald of Troop L; Sergeant Hughes
of Troop B; and Trooper Gievers of Troop G.  One of the Wallers was a
cow-puncher from New Mexico, the other the champion Yale high-jumper.  The
first was shot through the left arm so as to paralyze the fingers, but he
continued in battle, pointing his rifle over the wounded arm as though it had
been a rest.  The other Waller, and Bugbee, were hit in the head, the bullets
merely inflicting scalp wounds.  Neither of them paid any heed to the wounds
except that after nightfall each had his head done up in a bandage. Fortescue
I was at times using as an extra orderly.  I noticed he limped, but supposed
that his foot was skinned.  It proved, however, that he had been struck in the
foot, though not very seriously, by a bullet, and I never knew what was the
matter until the next day I saw him making wry faces as he drew off his bloody
boot, which was stuck fast to the foot. Trooper Rowland again distinguished
himself by his fearlessness.

     For gallantry on the field of action Sergeants Dame, Ferguson, Tiffany,
Greenwald, and, later on, McIlhenny, were promoted to second lieutenancies, as
Sergeant Hayes had already been.  Lieutenant Carr, who commanded his troop,
and behaved with great gallantry throughout the day, was shot and severely
wounded at nightfall.  He was the son of a Confederate officer; his was the
fifth generation which, from father to son, had fought in every war of the
United States.  Among the men whom I noticed as leading in the charges and
always being nearest the enemy, were the Pawnee, Pollock, Simpson of Texas,
and Dudley Dean.  Jenkins was made major, Woodbury Kane, Day, and Frantz
captains, and Greenway and Goodrich first lieutenants, for gallantry in
action, and for the efficiency with which the first had handled his squadron,
and the other five their troops - for each of them, owing to some accident to
his superior, found himself in command of his troop.

     Dr. Church had worked quite as hard as any man at the front in caring for
the wounded; as had Chaplain Brown.  Lieutenant Keyes, who acted as adjutant,
did so well that he was given the position permanently. Lieutenant Coleman
similarly won the position of quartermaster.

     We finished digging the trench soon after midnight, and then the worn-out
men laid down in rows on their rifles and dropped heavily to sleep. About one
in ten of them had blankets taken from the Spaniards.  Henry Bardshar, my
orderly, had procured one for me.  He, Goodrich, and I slept together.  If the
men without blankets had not been so tired that they fell asleep anyhow, they
would have been very cold, for, of course, we were all drenched with sweat,
and above the waist had on nothing but our flannel shirts, while the night was
cool, with a heavy dew.  Before anyone had time to wake from the cold,
however, we were all awakened by the Spaniards, whose skirmishers suddenly
opened fire on us.  Of course, we could not tell whether or not this was the
forerunner of a heavy attack, for our Cossack posts were responding briskly.
It was about three o'clock in the morning, at which time men's courage is said
to be at the lowest ebb; but the cavalry division was certainly free from any
weakness in that direction. At the alarm everybody jumped to his feet and the
fstiff, shivering, haggard men, their eyes only half-opened, all clutched their
rifles and ran forward to the trench on the crest of the hill.

     The sputtering shots died away and we went to sleep again.  But in
another hour dawn broke and the Spaniards opened fire in good earnest. There
was a little tree only a few feet away, under which I made my head-quarters,
and while I was lying there, with Goodrich and Keyes, a shrapnel burst among
us, not hurting us in the least, but with the sweep of its bullets killing or
wounding five men in our rear, one of whom was a singularly gallant young
Harvard fellow, Stanley Hollister.  An equally gallant young fellow from Yale,
Theodore Miller, had already been mortally wounded.  Hollister also died.

     The Second Brigade lost more heavily than the First; but neither its
brigade commander nor any of its regimental commanders were touched, while the
commander of the First Brigade and two of its three regimental commanders had
been killed or wounded.

     In this fight our regiment had numbered 490 men, as, in addition to the
killed and wounded of the first fight, some had had to go to the hospital for
sickness and some had been left behind with the baggage, or were detailed on
other duty.  Eighty-nine were killed and wounded: the heaviest loss suffered
by any regiment in the cavalry division.  The Spaniards made a stiff fight,
standing firm until we charged home.  They fought much more stubbornly than at
Las Guasimas.  We ought to have expected this, for they have always done well
in holding intrenchments.  On this day they showed themselves to be brave
foes, worthy of honor for their gallantry.

     In the attack on the San Juan hills our forces numbered about 6,600. ^*
There were about 4,500 Spaniards against us. ^Dagger Our total loss in killed
and wounded was 1,071.  Of the cavalry division there were, all told, some
2,300 officers and men, of whom 375 were killed and wounded.  In the division
over a or wounded, their loss being relatively half as great again as that of
the enlisted men - which was as it should be.

[Footnote *: According to the official reports, 5,104 officers and men of
Kent's infantry, and 2,649 of the cavalry had been landed.  My regiment is put
down as 542 strong, instead of the real figure, 490, the difference being due
to men who were in hospital and on gu rd at the seashore, etc. In other words,
the total represents the total landed; the details, etc., are included.
General Wheeler, in his report of July 7th, puts these details as about
fifteen per cent. of the whole of the force which was on the transports; about
eighty-five per cent. got forward and was in the fight.]

[Footnote Dagger: The total Spanish force in Santiago under General Linares
was 6,000: 4,000 regulars, 1,000 volunteers, and 1,000 marines and sailors
from the ships.  (Diary of the British Consul, Frederick W. Ramsden, entry of
July 1st.) Four thousand more troops entered next day.  Of the 6,000 troops,
600 or thereabouts were at El Caney, and 900 in the forts at the mouth of the
harbor.  Lieutenant Tejeiro states that there were 520 men at El Caney, 970 in
the forts at the mouth of the harbor, and 3,000 in the lines, not counting the
cavalry and civil guard which were in reserve.  He certainly very much
understates the Spanish force; thus he nowhere accounts for the engineers
mentioned on p. 135; and his figures would make the total number of Spanish
artillerymen but 32.  He excludes the cavalry, the civil guard, and the
marines which had been stationed at the Plaza del Toros; yet he later mentions
that these marines were brought up, and their commander, Bustamente, severely
wounded; he states that the cavalry advanced to cover the retreat of the
infantry, and I myself saw the cavalry come forward, for the most part
dismounted, when the Spaniards attempted a forward movement late in the
afternoon, and we shot many of their horses; while later I saw and conversed
with officers and men of the civil guard who had been wounded at the same time
- this in connection with returning them their wives and children, after the
latter had fled from the city.  Although the engineers are excluded,
Lieutenant Tejeiro mentions that their colonel, as well as the colonel of the
artillery, was wounded.  Four thousand five hundred is surely an
understatement of the forces which resisted the attack of the forces under
Wheeler.  Lieutenant Tejeiro is very careless in his figures. Thus in one
place he states that the position of San Juan was held by two companies, whose
strength he puts at 300 - thus making them average 100 instead of 125 men
apiece.  He then mentions another echelon of two companies so situated as to
cross their fire with the others.  Doubtless the block-house and trenches at
Fort San Juan proper were only held by three or four hundred men; they were
taken by the Sixth and Sixteenth Infantry under Hawkins's immediate command;
and they formed but one point in the line of hills, trenches, ranch-houses,
and block-houses which the Spaniards held, and from which we drove them.  When
the city capitulated later, over 8,000 unwounded troops and over 16,000 rifles
and carbines were surrendered; by that time the marines and sailors had of
course gone, and the volunteers had disbanded.

     In all these figures I have taken merely the statements from the Spanish
side.  I am inclined to think the actual numbers were much greater than those
here given.  Lieutenant Wiley, in his book In Cuba with Shafter, which is
practically an official statement, states that nearly 11,000 Spanish troops
were surrendered; and this is the number given by the Spaniards themselves in
the remarkable letter the captured soldiers addressed to General Shafter,
which Wiley quotes in full.  Lieutenant Tejeiro, in his chap. xiv., explains
that the volunteers had disbanded before the end came, and the marines and
sailors had of course gone, while nearly a thousand men had been killed or
captured or had died of wounds and disease, so that there must have been at
least 14,000 all told. Subtracting the reinforcements who arrived on the 2d,
this would mean about 10,000 Spaniards present on the 1st; in which case Kent
and Wheeler were opposed by at least equal numbers.

     In dealing with the Spanish losses, Lieutenant Tejeiro contradicts
himself.  He puts their total loss on this day at 593, including 94 killed,
121 missing, and 2 prisoners - 217 in all.  Yet he states that of the 520 men
at Caney but 80 got back, the remaining 440 being killed, captured, or
missing.  When we captured the city we found in the hospitals over 2,000
seriously wounded and sick Spaniards; on making inquiries, I found that over a
third were wounded.  From these facts I feel that it is safe to put down the
total Spanish loss in battle as at least 1,200, of whom over a thousand were
killed and wounded.

     Lieutenant Tejeiro, while rightly claiming credit for the courage shown
by the Spaniards, also praises the courage and resolution of the Americans,
saying that they fought, "con un arrojo y una decision verdaderamente
admirables." He dwells repeatedly upon the determination with which our troops
kept charging though themselves unprotected by cover. As for the Spanish
troops, all who fought them that day will most freely admit the courage they
showed.  At El Caney, where they were nearly hemmed in, they made a most
desperate defence; at San Juan the way to retreat was open, and so, though
they were seven times as numerous, they fought with less desperation, but
still very gallantly.]

     I think we suffered more heavily than the Spaniards did in killed and
wounded (though we also captured some scores of prisoners).  It would have
been very extraordinary if the reverse was the case, for we did the charging;
and to carry earthworks on foot with dismounted cavalry, when these earthworks
are held by unbroken infantry armed with the best modern rifles, is a serious
task.