rles Judson Crane .-lone! U. S. Army (Retired) George Washington Flowers Memorial Collection DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ESTABLISHED BY THE FAMILY OF COLONEL FLOWERS The Experiences of a a Colonel of Infantry By Charles Judson Crane Colonel U. S. Army (Retired) at Unidterbocher Pres# New York 1923 7 a 1 i Fob My Wife LOU A PREFACE This book has been written for the special purpose of putting within easy reach of my own family and ’ best friends a knowledge of my experiences, and of my career as an officer of the Army. I have accom- plished nothing great, or even deserving of special mention, nevertheless, a description of what I have taken part in may be profitable and interesting reading to those interested in the writer. C. J. c. San Antonio, Texas. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/experiencesofcol01cran CONTENTS CHAPTER I Of Scotch-English-Irish ancestry. Born at Hernando, De Soto County, Mississippi. Childhood at Mt. Lebanon, Louisiana, and Independence, Texas. Cowboy with cattle to Kansas in 1871. ..... CHAPTER II Cowboy experiences ended, assists in teaching small boys at Baylor University, Independence, Texas. Ap- pointed to the U. S. Military Academy in 1872. Graduated in 1877 and assigned to the 24th Infantry, (Company “B”). Reported for duty at Fort Clark, Texas, in December 1877. ..... CHAPTER III Service at Fort Duncan, Texas. Mike Wippf’s saloon at Eagle Pass. On hunt with Col. Shafter. Promoted in 1879 and sent to Fort Ringgold, Tex. CHAPTER IV Commanding Company. Change of station, marching. Pena Colorado and Fort Davis, Texas. Then to Forts Sill and Elliott. ....... CHAPTER V Commandant of Cadets at the A. &. M. College of Texas. At Fort Sill, I. T. again. Horace P. Jones, Indian interpreter. Indians. Hunting. .... vii PAGE 3 39 70 96 130 CONTENTS viii CHAPTER VI Two Trips to Greer County. Regiment ordered to New Mexico and Arizona. Service with cavalry. San Carlos Indian Agency, in 1888. .... CHAPTER VII To West Point, N. Y. as instructor, August, 1888. Married in December, 1889, and relieved in July, 1890. Regi- mental Adjutant at Fort Bayard, New Mexico. Pro- moted to Captain 1892. Company (“F”). Strike duty, Practice march and other duties at Fort Bayard. Regiment ordered to Fort Douglas, Utah . CHAPTER VIII Sent with company ahead of regiment. Sentiment of the people at Salt Lake City. On hunts and prac- tice march. Gentiles and Mormons. Spanish War, changed sentiment. ...... CHAPTER IX By rail to Chickamauga, Georgia. “Remember the Maine!” In camp at Chickamauga Park. Regi- ment ordered to Tampa, Florida. The regular soldier. Appointed Colonel 9th U. S. Volunteer Infantry. The colored soldier. The 24th Infantry. .... CHAPTER X Raising a regiment of colored “immunes” at New Orleans, La. Early difficulties. Muster in. Officers. Be- havior of the enlisted men. Off to Santiago, Cuba. CHAPTER XI Arrival at Santiago. Generals Shafter, Lawton and Wood. Night march to San Juan Hill. Sickness in camp. San Luis. Troncon. Regiment ordered to the United States. ....... PAGE 159 179 236 249 257 CONTENTS IX CHAPTER XII PAGE Quick loading and embarkation. Arrival at New York and at Camp Meade, Pa. Duties at Camp Meade. Men allowed to purchase their old style Springfield rifles. Lieut. Beckam. On leave. Joins regiment at Presidio, San Francisco, Cal. .... 295 CHAPTER XIII Sails for Manila. Passengers and duties aboard. Hono- lulu. Manila. Nipa Barracks. Pump Station. Appointed Lieutenant Colonel 38 th Volunteers. Inspector General of General Fred Grant’s brigade. Skirmishes at and near Bacoor and Imus. . . 309 CHAPTER XIV Joins volunteer regiment on the Luneta, Manila. South- ern hike. Talisay, Tanuan and Lipa. Cuenca. Ex- amining Board at Manila. Trip to Tayabas. 38 th Volunteers ordered to Ilo Ilo, Panay. . . . 326 CHAPTER XV General R. P. Hughes. Pacification of Panay. Military Commission work. Promoted to Major in the regular service. Adjutant General, Department of Panay. On sick leave. ....... 363 CHAPTER XVI Duty at Cebu. Ordered home. Department of California. Reports from leave at Governor’s Island, N. Y. Promoted to Lieutenant Colonel of regulars and sent to command in Porto Rico. Labor strike. Duke D’Abruzzi. Roosevelt’s inauguration as President. The Governor of Porto Rico. ..... 401 CHAPTER XVII Military Secretary, Northern Division. At St. Louis, Chicago and San Antonio. Long sick leave. Pro- X CONTENTS moted to Colonel and assigned to the 9th Infantry. Duty at Fort San Houston, Texas. Trips to Austin, Dallas and El Paso. Regiment ordered to the Philippines. ........ CHAPTER XVIII Trip to Cebu. Duties there. Native police. Test rides. Maneuvers on the island of Guimaras. Maneuvers near Cebu. Trip to Japan. Chief of Police at Cebu. Homeward bound. ...... CHAPTER XIX Fort Thomas, Ky. Visit to relatives. In Washington, D. C. On duty at Camp Perry, Ohio. Troubles on the Mexican border. Sent with regiment to Laredo, Texas. Duties on the border. Retired for age. CHAPTER XX We enter the “Great World War.” On active duty again, at recruit camp and at colleges. On close of hostilities returns to retired status. Reflections regarding the military service and our people. .... PACK 432 463 508 544 ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE In 1875 52 In 1913 458 In the Yabd of the Alamo — Spring of 1920 . . 566 xi A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 1 \ A COLONEL OF INFANTRY CHAPTER I My parents were William Carey Crane and Catherine Jane Shepherd. Our ancestor Jasper Crane was the first Crane in the New World. Apparently, he did not delay long in Massachusetts, for he was one of the first settlers of the town of New Haven, Connecticut, in or about 1637. About thirty year later he and some of his children were among the first settlers of the present city of Newark, New Jersey. There are many Cranes in and near New Haven, and some years ago the city directory of Newark showed as many Cranes as members of any other family, except- ing of course our friends the Smiths. The Cranes were of English blood. My ancestress Mary Treat, the wife of Jasper’s son John, was the daughter of the Charter Oak Governor of Connecticut, and John Campbell, the father of another ancestress, was of the blood of the Lords of Argyle in Scotland. My mother’s father, James Shepherd, came from Scotland when very young. He married a daughter of Major James Moore, of “Mad” Anthony Wayne’s regiment of the Pennsylvania Line, in the Revolution. Major Moore’s father came from the northern part of Ireland; the Major married a daughter of Sharp Delany, of Philadelphia, lived a few years in Lancaster, 3 4 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Pa., and then moved to Northumberland County, Virginia. My grandfather, William Crane, moved when a young man from Newark to Richmond, Va., where my father was born in 1816. William Crane afterwards moved to Baltimore, Md., where he died in 1867. He was an abolitionist, and a strong character, generally, besides being successful in business. He was a great believer in missionary work, and showed it by naming several of his children after noted Baptist missionaries. My father completed his excellent education by attending theological schools which prepared him for the pulpit. Although brought up as a Whig he voted once for Andrew Jackson. Of course he voted for Henry Clay whenever he could, barring, perhaps, that time when he could not help voting for “Old Hickory.” On one occasion he voted the “Know Nothing” ticket, which, I believe, meant “America for the Americans,” which only showed my father’s genuine patriotism. In 1860 he voted for the Whig candidates Bell and Everett, and my young throat outdid itself in many times shouting “Hurrah for Bell and Everett.” In those days we were noisy at elections. During the Civil War my father was a strong supporter of the Confederacy, and my brother Will was a pri- vate in Dave Terry’s regiment of mounted Texas infantry. After the Civil War my father was a consistent Democrat, believing that no other course was proper for a Southern gentleman. He was, all his life after graduating from school, a school teacher and a Baptist preacher, being usually the head of the boys ? school, also of the Baptist Church, wherever he lived. He was married three times, my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 5 mother being his third wife, and there having been no children by the other wives. My mother gave this world nine children, in the following order: William Carey, Annie Dickinson, Catherine , Charles Judson, Gordon Shepherd, Balfour Dorset, James Thomas, Royston Campbell and Harriet Burns. I was born at Hernando, De Soto County, Miss., on April 30, 1852, not far from Memphis. Several years afterwards my parents moved to Center Hill, Miss., only a short distance from the Tennessee line, where I well remember catching small birds in traps and following larger boys hunting and fishing. A big boy named Bob Paine allowed me to follow him about, and gave me the prettiest feathers from the birds that he killed, and I carried them home with me and kept them for years. In the winter of 1859-60 my parents moved to Mt. Lebanon, La., going by rail to New Orleans and thence by boat up the Mississippi and Red Rivers. In New Orleans we stopped with my mother’s good brother Charles J. Shepherd, for whom and for my father’s brother Judson I was named. No kinder, better man than my uncle Charles ever came under my observation. In going up Red River our boat, the side wheeler “Morning Light” ran a race with another river boat, a stern wheeler, and our boat won the race, to the great satisfaction of all the passengers. No one likes to be beaten, in any kind of a race. At Mt. Lebanon my father was President of Mt. Lebanon University, the preparatory branch of which I attended. The school buildings were located adjoining a fine forest of oak, hickory, etc., and under 6 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY some of the great oaks left standing in the school enclosure I played all sorts of games, like other boys. In those days negroes were slaves, were bought and sold, and could not leave their master’s premises without his permission. Sometimes a negro would run away and become what was called a “bad nigger.” At nights the roads were sometimes patrolled by white men, and negroes caught out without written per- mission would be whipped. One day I saw one whipped, just outside of the college fence adjoining the forest. A thick leather strap was used, having some small holes in the end farthest from the handle. The principal outdoor amusements were hunting and fishing. Fish fries and barbecues were frequent, especially about July. On July 4th the inevitable barbecue offered the rising young politician an opportunity to make his debut, or to improve on previous efforts. Eating of the best of fruits, meats and vegetables, and listening to 4th of July orations; these were the old time methods of spending our Independence Day in the Old South. No fireworks were on hand then; but they were used lavishly on the night before Christmas and next morning. Politics were, of course, of great interest to everybody, especially during our first winter at Mt. Lebanon. There, the candidates who received the greatest support were Breckenridge and Lane, Southern Democrats, with Bell and Everett following next. Douglas, the Northern Democrat, received only a few votes, and Lincoln and Hamlin received practically none. The news of the first Battle of Bull Run, or Ma- nassas, as we called it in the South, was brought one afternoon by the stage driver. I saw the stage coming, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 7 horses at a gallop and the driver waving his arms and shouting wildly something like “ We licked ’em. We whipped ’em good.” Some people there imagined that the war would end then, but the more intelligent knew better. About two years later, while playing marbles under a big oak tree in the college grounds late one afternoon, I distinctly heard the big guns at Vicksburg. I also remember the diminishing value of Confederate money. Sometime in 1862 an old man named Reesenover died near Mt. Lebanon. He had a farm about three miles from town, and his horses, cattle, and even his slaves were sold at auction in my presence. I went out to his place to see the sale. A field hand, a very black man of small size and middle age was sold to the highest bidder for 700 dollars. Another negro, a big, strong, fine looking mulatto, brought two thousand dollars. He was the family carriage driver. Near that farm a runaway negro named Riall had killed an old white man, so I did not often go to that farm, and bigger boys than I did not like that road. The following words of a little song which I once heard sung by half a dozen negroes while pulling fodder will throw some light on the question “Why did they run away?” “I do hate a mean overseer; I do hate a mean overseer; I do hate a mean overseer; For I do hate to run away. “I do hate a nigger driver; I do hate a nigger driver; I do hate a nigger driver; For I do hate to run away.” 8 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The reason given in that little song must have caused many to run away. I heard that song only once. As regards my progress at school. I knew before we left Mt. Lebanon that I was not fond of mathe- matics, but that I was very fond of geography and history. In the summer of 1863 my brother Gordon and I were sent to the farms of our good Uncle Charles Shepherd, near Keechi, La., going there with his mule wagons and under the care of his slave teamsters. We slept on the ground at night and ate exactly what the teamsters did. A few weeks later my father came on with the rest of the family, and all of us lived on one of my uncle’s farms. In September of the same year my father, my sister Annie, my brother Gordon and I went by buggy and wagon to Independence, Texas. During the trip we passed Shreveport, La., where we saw in the Red River an unfinished gunboat named “Stonewall Jackson,” and painted black. I believe that gunboat of the Confederacy was never used, never completed. Twelve miles from Independence, at Washington on the Brazos, we saw the upper parts of an old river steamboat which had, during high water years before, attempted the navigation of the Brazos River. The receding of rain water in the river had left the boat stuck in the mud, and there it remained. Arriving at Independence my father left us and returned to Louisiana for the balance of the family. For a few days we stayed at the home of Dr. Graves, and then Gordon and I were sent to live with the family of Major Albert Haynes till my father’s return, meanwhile going to school. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 9 For quite a while it bothered me to hear the Texas boys boasting about Generals Hood, Tom Green and Scurry, when for several years I had been hearing chiefly of Generals Beauregard, Mouton and Polignac. My mind began right then to be broadened with the knowledge that our country is big, and that each state has many great citizens and soldiers. My father became President of Baylor University, a Baptist school which was located at Independence until the death of my father in 1885, when it was moved to Waco, Texas, a larger town, where the school now prospers and continues to grow. My brother Will graduated at Baylor University in 1864 and then joined Colonel Dave Terry’s regiment of mounted infantry. This was the same Terry who had several years before killed in a duel Senator Broderick of California, and who many years after- wards was killed by the bodyguard of U. S. Justice Field at some station along the Southern Pacific Railroad. A brother of my brother’s colonel was the fine soldier Frank Terry, of the Terry Rangers. Dave Terry’s regiment marched back and forth across the state of Texas several times, and did much hunting for deserters, and spent months guarding prisoners, but saw no actual fighting after my brother joined. Before the war ended the regiment was dis- mounted, and the animals, being the private property of the men, were returned to their owners’ homes, one soldier bringing back five or six horses. My brother’s horse, a beautiful, light colored roan gelding, had little hair left in his tail; most of it had been pulled out by other horses being tied to the tail. The hair soon grew out again. Washington County was in those days the banner 10 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY farming county in the state of Texas, being com- paratively thickly settled, and very prosperous. For those good reasons Confederate troops were sent there to recuperate after hard service. General John G. Walker’s Division was camped many weeks out on Big Rocky Creek, and was composed of the brigades once commanded by Scurry, Randall and Waul. In Mt. Lebanon, early in the War, I witnessed the presentation of a banner to what was then Waul’s Legion by the ladies of the little town. The flag was accepted for the Legion by a young soldier named Davidson, after the War a student of Baylor Univer- sity’s law course. The small place Independence was then noted chiefly for its schools for both sexes, Baylor Univer- sity then including Baylor Female College, and the college presidents being my father and Horace Clark, respectively. Many fine families lived there, the best known being the Houstons, Bryans, Clays, Haynes, Sewards, Robertsons, etc. Sam Houston, who had filled, in Tennessee and Texas, the highest offices a state can give one of her citizens, had died in July, 1863, at Huntsville, Texas, and his family, excepting young Sam, were all living at Independence when we arrived there. Young Sam, in spite of his father’s strong Union sentiments stayed with his state, and was a gallant soldier of the Confederacy, attaining the grade of lieutenant of artillery. Major Moses Austin Bryan was a nephew of Stephen F. Austin, and had taken part in the Battle of San Jacinto, and never wearied of telling how he interpreted that day for Sam Houston and Santa Ana. Although some histories say that Almonte spoke good A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 11 English, my recollection is that Major Bryan claimed that he interpreted also for Almonte and Houston. Almonte asked Houston how and why it was that he delayed making the attack on Santa Ana’s army until after General Cos had joined Santa Ana with a rein- forcement of 500 men, he (Houston) knowing before- hand that Cos was coming. Sam Houston was sitting at the foot of a big tree, nursing his fresh wound which was a very painful one. His only reply, accompanied by an impatient gesture of the hands, was, “Why take two bites at a cherry?” The end of the Civil War was, in Texas, called “The Break-up,” and it may possibly be still so designated in some parts of the state. When the “break-up” came some Confederate troops were in camp on Big Rocky Creek, four miles from Independ- ence, and other Texas soldiers soon came marching home, there being no regular surrender of individual organizations and their arms and equipments. The men came marching back with whatever government property they desired to retain possession of. At Washington and Navasota the Confederate military authorities had collected supplies of powder in kegs, and lead in heavy bars, called “pigs,” also some sabres, rifles, etc. These stores were left without guard, and soon were scattered throughout the country, the people for many miles around going in wagons and taking what powder and lead they wanted. In this manner, by lending our father’s wagon and horses, I got possession of 50 or 60 pounds of lead and of powder. A careless handling of a match about the premises of the Navasota warehouse resulted in an explosion which ruined the greater part of the contents, and killed the 12 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY careless boy, a young soldier named George Balkam, and wounded many other people. The powder and lead which I got then served me for several years’ hunting. In those days I had very little money, and I made my own shot from that “pig” lead. The ex- Confederates returned home and went to work, at first very awkwardly, but they worked in earnest, and the country now shows the good results. I remember only one occasion when any number of them appeared in their old uniforms, and with their old Enfield rifles which resembled very much the Springfield rifles of that date. The Enfield rifle was an English weapon. When I saw the former soldiers armed and clothed as they had been some months previous, they were quietly sitting around and attending to the lynching of a young negro. It was for the same old cause, and nothing was ever done about it. I saw the hanging, and so did some other boys, for we found it easy running a mile to the live oak grove on the banks of the small creek just west of John Seward’s residence. In slavery days a non-slave owner, like my father, obtained the necessary labor by hiring it from those who did own slaves. If the negro man misbehaved too much, as I remember happening once, my father would send the man to his owner to be whipped. I took the negro to his master to be whipped, and I saw the punishment inflicted, and then I took the man back to our house. He made no protest whatever. When the news of the “ Break-up ” became so per- sistent that no one could doubt any longer that our idolized Lee had really surrendered, and had given up the fight, the bottom seemed to fall out of everything, and things collapsed generally, or, “broke up.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 13 We had at that time, hired from their former owners, two negro women and the husband of one of them. I remember well being present when my father sent for them and informed them that they were all free, and could after that work where they pleased, and retain the fruits of their own labor. One of the women, named Ann, looked frightened and begged to be allowed to stay on and continue working for us. She worked for my father’s family the greater part of the next 30 years, being then known as Ann Warren. In 1867 the yellow fever visited that little town. Nineteen people took the disease, and about half that number died of it. Among those who died was Mrs. Sam Houston, the widow of Texas’ greatest citizen. Our family, like many others, ran away from home and took refuge in the woods on some creek, or at some spring. The Humphreys family camped with us at a sulphur spring for six or eight weeks. From that camp the boys of our families hunted and fished along the Yegua River. About the same time the Kansas grasshopper came along in myriads, and ate up everything that was green in the gardens, and in the fall they laid their eggs in shallow holes in the ground, and then dis- appeared. The people were surely downhearted then, especially when in the following spring they saw the new crop of grasshoppers hatch out, too young and too small to fly, but with enough energy to hop about all day long. W ar , disease and pestilence ! What else remai ned in store for Texas? Luckily, heavy spring rains removed the grasshopper menace, and the crops of 1868 were better than was anticipated. During those years I was going to school on week 14 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY days, and I went hunting and fishing whenever I had the opportunity. Frequently, however, I had to work Saturdays in the garden, or in the small field adjoining our house. I was quite proficient with the ax, and I cut and hauled many loads of wood, and prepared it for use as fuel. I remember with pleasure and pride my mother’s salutation on many occasions, when I would appear after hours of work or pleasure seeking, loaded down with fire wood for her room. She would say, “Just in time, my boy.” I was in time then, and rarely have I been behind time, or too late. My sister Annie was married when I was between 16 and 17 years old. She married a gentleman from Galveston. The ceremony was performed by my father, in his residence, the old “Round House” of Baylor University at Independence. A few minutes after the ceremony the bridegroom found me standing alone in my mother’s room. I knew him very slightly, and I wasn’t feeling good at losing my sister. How- ever, he tried to be pleasant, but he didn’t start off right. He asked, “Well, Charlie, how do you like your new brother?” My reply was; “Well now, I don’t know about that. I’ll have to wait and see how you treat my sister.” I was wiser than I thought. I was not the only one of my family given to plain and truthful speech, as will be seen from the following, which occurred not long after my sister’s marriage. Two little boys had been coming a little too often to play around the old “Round House,” and my brother Tom remarked that he would fix it, and stop their coming so often. A day or two later Tom quietly said, “I gave those boys a hint. They won't be around here so much, now.” I knew my brother’s way of doing things, so I asked him to tell me exactly A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 15 what he had told the boys. I had an idea that he had spoken straight to the point, and I was not mistaken. Tom had said, “See here! We are getting mighty tired of you boys up at the ‘Round House,’ and we want you to stay away from there.” After reading those two stories it is merely evident that my brother Tom was my full brother; the resemblance of his disposition to my own proved it. When I was about 17 my friend Edgar Robbins wanted to go to Evergreen, then contained within the limits of Washington County, and about 45 miles distant. He was going to live there, and wanted me to give him a ride horseback. So I did, he riding one of my father’s horses and I riding the other. The next day I made the return trip alone, leading the extra horse. At that time Evergreen was inhabited by Bill Longly and John Wilson. The first had killed 30 men, and the other only 25, but that was enough to make me feel queer when going into their town, so I wore my old Remington revolver, with which I had killed several small animals. I am glad I did not see either of the desperados, but I did have an opportunity to use that old pistol. Where we stayed the lady of the house wanted a chicken for dinner, and couldn’t catch it, so she requested me to get it for her. After stalking that chicken around the yard for quite a while to get real close to it I finally succeeded, and shot the chicken in the head at ten feet distance. All the same, I am glad I didn’t meet either of the bad men of Evergreen. They finally died in the proper way. I graduated in 1869 from Baylor University, my only classmate being Dan McIntyre, whose brother 16 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY James was the last man from that Congressional Dis- trict to graduate from West Point, he graduating about 10 years before that. Dan’s father Hugh was the sturdiest sort of a Scotchman, and Dan and his brother Duncan had both been Confederate troopers under Colonel D. C. Giddings, the leading citizen of Brenham, the county seat of Washington County. After graduating I worked in the field the balance of the year, and all the next year. In the South they used to say that working in cotton required thirteen months labor each year, and no one knew until after Xmas how he stood financially. Well, in the early spring of 1871, after working in the field for a year and a half I had, after scrupulously settling all my debts, just one small bale of cotton, and that had been slightly damaged by rain. I hesitated about again working in the field. My father wanted me to be a lawyer, but he had no suggestion as to how I was to get the necessary knowledge of law, or the practice of it, his only idea being, apparently, to absorb legal lore in the office of some noted advocate, as had been done by many young lawyers before me. That did not appear very attractive to me, and just then an occupation, more temporary, more adventurous, and requiring less mental effort, offered me the alternative which I quietly prepared to accept. A recent student of Baylor University, named John Tanksley, of Lavaca County, was going to collect and drive a herd of cattle to Kansas, and his brother-in-law Charlie Chase, of Independence, was going with him, and more cowboy help was needed. One morning, about March 5, 1871, 1 was down town, looking for some one to offer me some sort of an occupation for the next few months, also a purchaser A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 17 for my poor little damaged bale of cotton, when Bit Hines, a young man who had served with General N. B. Forrest during part of the Civil War, suggested joining the Tanksley herd. He also found a pur- chaser, or trader for my cotton. It required very little time for me to exchange my cotton for a small mare, hardly grown, and to get ready and start that very morning. I took the pony home, and quietly and quickly got together a few clothes, my old saddle and saddlebags, bade good-bye to my good mother and to my brother Balfour, and then I hurried down to meet Bit Hines at his house with only 75 cents in my pocket. The rest of my family knew nothing of my going, all being at school except my brother Will who was then in New Orleans with Uncle Charlie. While waiting for Hines to saddle his horse and get together what he was going to carry with him on the horse, Ann Warren’s little boy Tom came running from her house which was close by. The boy said, “My Ma says she knows you ain’t got much money, and won’t you take some of hers?” I replied, “Tom, you tell your mother that I would like to have just four dollars, and that will be plenty.” In five minutes more the money was there, and with my $4.75 in my pocket and riding my little mare, I left home for a trip to Kansas as a cowboy, to be absent an indefinite length of time. My companion, an ex- trooper of Forrest’s, had very few good traits, but he was not a disagreeable companion on a five days’ horse- back journey. We rode 25 to 30 miles each day, stopped for the night at road side farm houses, paid about one dollar apiece for each stop, and had no real mishap during the entire trip. 18 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY On the fifth day Hines stopped and remained at the house of an old friend whom he discovered along the road about midday, and I went on alone. It was then only ten miles from the house of John Tanksley, and there I would find myself at home, so I rode on, perfectly satisfied, although I knew that I had just five cents in my pocket. About an hour before sunset I found by inquiry that I was only five miles from my destination, and I rode on, glad that my journey was so nearly completed. A little after sunset, after riding about five miles more, I came again to that same house, but from a different direction. I did not again venture to look for the place in the growing darkness, and as I had only five cents to my name I could not request to be taken in for the night. So I rode on into the woods behind the field, unsaddled my horse, tied her well, and wrapping myself up in a very small saddle blanket I tried to sleep, being hungry, thirsty and not very dry, for it drizzled very disagreeably during the night. I rose very early, and promptly started out again, and after riding at least ten miles more I found my schoolmate’s house. I said nothing about being hungry, and assisted in chasing and catching some horses, afoot. At last, about midday, dinner was announced, and my appetite was so evident as to cause remark, and then I explained that my last meal had been the previous day’s breakfast. In a day or two I gave my last five cents to a little boy, and then I had no money of my own for six months, and during that time I did much hard riding, and much sleeping on the ground. I endured more hardship during that six months than during my entire Army career. At no time did I have the equivalent of two blankets, and seldom that of one A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 19 blanket, never a mattress, or a tent, not even a rain coat of any description. Cowboy “chow” is some- thing fierce, and cowboy guard duty came every day in large doses. While at Tanksley’s house of course there was no hardship. Soon after my arrival at the Tanksley home my boyhood friends, Charlie Chase and Henry Vickers, came to complete the number of cowboys needed, and we commenced the work of collecting a small herd of mixed cattle for the drive to Kansas. George Tanksley, his 14 year old son George, John Tanksley, Charlie Chase, Henry Vickers, Bit Hines and myself, together with a negro cook, comprised the personnel of the outfit, and about March 15th we began collecting the herd. This labor was made very tedious and time consuming by the fact that the Tanksley brothers owned comparatively few cattle, and we had to look hard for them and ride endlessly. During this part of our work we approached Indian- ola, or Powderhorn as the people of the neighbor- hood called the place, at that time an important seaport. When we had gotten together about 500 cattle, during the forepart of one night a very hard rain and wind began while I was on herd guard duty, mounted. Soon the herd got beyond our control and began moving against the rain, but without at first stampeding. My place was, at the time, right in front of the herd, riding a few feet in advance of the animals and trying to quiet them by the sound of my voice, the same as the others were doing. The bright flashes of lightning during the hard rain showed me a perfect sea of faces and eyes of cattle, all moving noiselessly in the same direction. Those brief views, given by the lightning, were very interesting and but for several 20 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY disagreeable features might have been attractive. The herd had stampeded, and they kept us on our horses all night, and all the following day, excepting three times a very few minutes for us to eat our meals. I remember losing consciousness in sleep, and waking up to find that my horse was going at a trot, just as day was breaking. It happened several times that night and following morning. Before I ceased to be a cowboy that occurred on one or two other occasions. After collecting the cattle the morning after the stampede in question we continued gathering the herd, and having consumed about two months in such work we started on the road to Newton, Kansas, at that time the terminus of the A. T. & S. F. Railroad. The route selected was via the towns Lockhart, Austin , Georgetown, Belton, Waco, Fort Worth, Denton and Gainsville, Texas. During all this time I had never thrown the lasso over a single animal, and had never tried to do so, but I was to be relied upon to hold down any beef or cow that the other man could throw, and this I did many times by catching the animal’s tail after it was down, passing it between the hind legs, and then pulling hard to the rear, thus holding the hind foot in the air and making it impossible for the animal to put that foot on the ground. After completing our work with the animal the other man would loosen his rope, I would let go the tail, and we would both run for our horses, then about 50 yards away. It was good for us that our poor tired steeds never once got frightened and ran away from us. In those days cattle owners marked and branded as their own all the “mavericks” they could find, regardless as to whose cows were furnishing milk for A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 21 the calves. A “maverick” was a calf at least one year old and without mark or brand to show owner- ship. One or two cows on the range was good enough foundation for a claim in that neck of the woods, and energetic work, spring and autumn, might soon intro- duce most plentifully a new brand and a new cattle owner to a range where a few years before both man and brand had been unknown, except by hearsay. We saw plainly how all that could easily be done, but my employers were either too honest, or had not been energetic enough to keep pace with their competitors, otherwise it would have been easier to collect a small herd of their cattle. As we travelled northward we camped one night in the woods near Lockhart, south of Austin, and put on the usual herd guard. Henry Vickers and I were on guard during the first half of the night, and we sur- rounded the herd with a circle of small fires, giving us light to see how to ride around the herd, which was in the dark woods. We would ride in opposite directions, meet, talk a little and then ride on. About midnight the wood was getting scarce, and at one of our meetings Henry Vickers said, pointing to a dead oak tree close to me, “We will soon have to burn up that tree, it will give us lots of wood.” Also in jest, and at the same time putting my right hand against the big tree I replied, “Nonsense, Henry, we can’t push that tree down. Look here.” And with that I gave the big oak tree a gentle push with my right hand, remaining on my horse as I did so. The strangest thing happened ! That big tree had evidently been waiting for a long time for some foolish boy to come along and give it a gentle shove. Immediately small twigs began to 22 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY break off and fall to the ground from the top of the tree, which then began to move and crack with increas- ing loudness. Every cow and beef in the herd seemed to wake up at the same time and heave a loud sigh, and while the tree was falling and making a terribly loud noise, every animal rose from the ground with one impulse and ran right through our camp. I saw some sparks, kicked up by those that stirred up the remnant of our cook fire. I don’t know why the tree didn’t fall towards us. I quickly said to my companion, “You go that way, and I’ll go this,” and we rode fast through the woods after the stampeded herd, trying to outrun the frightened animals, get ahead of them and turn them back. I lost one stirrup, but I found it next day, and Henry beat me to the head of the herd, and we soon had them stopped and “milling” in a circle in the dark woods. It did not take long for the others to join us, but no one got any more sleep that night, nor the following night. During the next day we were busy collecting the few cattle that we had failed to find before daybreak. During the first half of the second night at that same place a storm and heavy rain came, and again we rode all night long after a stampeded and frightened herd. When we arrived at the south bank of the Colorado River, near Austin, we saw that there had been a big rise in the river, the water being evidently deep enough to make any animal swim. Not wishing to risk the lives of any of his cattle, and having often heard us talk of the good swims in the Yegua River near our home, the elder Tanksley said to us, “Say, Charlie Crane and Henry Vickers, would you like a good swim, or are you afraid of the Colorado River?” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 23 We both replied, “We’ll swim across and see how deep it is.” We swam across and back again, and found that we could let down and touch bottom most of the way, so that it was pronounced safe for the cattle to try it. The next morning we crossed the river, all the cattle having to swim a few yards, one or two cowboys lead- ing the way on horseback. During the entire trip, according to my recollection, we forded every river and creek except the Brazos at Waco, and we were glad to use a bridge there. Fort Worth was then a small town of about 4000 people. I liked Gainsville. Our road led through the “Cross Timbers” in northern Texas. We rode through two parallel strips of fine woods called by that name, and there we saw lots of fine trees, mostly oak, black jack and hickory. The woods varied in width from five to twelve miles. After leaving Gainsville the settlements grew scarcer, fences fewer and grass higher. We expected an inspector to go through our herd before we reached Red River, but we saw none, and then we regretted having driven out of the herd several fine animals which had persisted in joining us on the road. We heard of various herds which were reported to have been very materially increased in number while travelling across the broad state of Texas, and people were generally mistaken as to how it had happened. To any one who has travelled with a herd of cattle through an open country filled with loose cattle the guess is easy. We found it absolutely impossible to prevent cattle from joining our herd, and marching with us, some- times for days before their presence was detected 24 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY by us. This, although we were continually using up the strength and speed of our horses in cutting out and driving away from the herd all kinds of cattle which seemed obsessed with the desire to go along with us. It was indeed an honest man, or one who was exceedingly afraid of the inspector, who kept his herd free from interloping stray cattle. We had in the herd a number of tired and footsore cattle, especially one old cow, and these animals gave us lots of trouble. They couldn’t be made to keep up with the herd, especially that old cow. One day it was hotter than usual about 11 o’clock a.m. on that trail some forty or fifty miles south of where we would cross Red River, and the heat seemed to affect the old cow more even than usual. After keeping some of us unusually busy driving her back into the herd, the poor animal darted off into a thicket close to the trail, where old George Tanksley and I followed, the best we could. We soon had to dismount and go afoot, and old George kindly allowed me to go in front and get nearer to the cow than he did. Finally we found her, standing in a sort of path made by the running of water down hill, and she simply wouldn’t move towards the road. I didn’t like her looks very much, as she stood there, with head down and eyes rather wild looking, gazing straight at me, so I moved quickly to a friendly looking tree which had a limb some six feet from the ground. My intention was, of course, to pull myself up into that tree as quick as thought, if the old cow should come my way. She came, all right, and her speed was unusual, considering how she had been lagging behind the herd for so many days. She was only some A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 25 twenty feet from me when she started, but I had climbed many a tree, and with all confidence I reached up and pulled. The limb was dead, to my great sorrow, and it dropped me down right in front of that infuriated old cow which I had been whipping every day for weeks to keep her wdth the herd, and now she came at me, straight, with head down. I didn’t have time to roll out of her way, but my wits stayed with me, just a little bit. As the old cow lowered her head so as to put her horns where they couldn’t miss me, I put both my feet in her face between the eyes, and quicker than thought I was doubled up and rolled over, the old thing’s horns apparently fitting perfectly into my anatomy, and my body having no stiffness just then. As I was being folded up and rolled over I made some sort of a noise which could not be spelled, in any language. I was the gladdest fellow in the world to find that the cow ran on, and that her horns had not made the slightest scratch on me. But, old George Tanksley was standing there, bending low and rising, and not making the semblance of a sound, although his face was stretched out of all shape. It was fully five minutes before the old rascal could laugh out loud, and some minutes more before he could talk. We left the old cow there and rode after the herd to camp. After dinner two others went back and tried their luck. They brought back with them the cow’s hide. We travelled on, and finally one day in June we reached Red River Station and crossed the river into what is now Oklahoma. Beyond the river the trail was just as plain, and the road just as good as before. We were on the old Chisholm Trail, which consisted of 26 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY a very much used wagon road, flanked on both sides by dozens of cow trails, covering from 50 to 100 yards on each side. Every day we met men coming back along the trail, and from them we kept well acquainted with what was ahead of us. We always knew how far we had to march next day in order to camp at good water. Each cowboy had at least two mounts, and some had as many as five or six, the average being about four. Every day we had breakfast by sunrise, even with Bit Hines as cook in place of the negro who was discharged, for economy’s sake, when we started north on the trail. After breakfast we immediately took the trail, every man being in his place with the cattle, sometimes one man riding in front, always one or more in rear of all the cattle, and the rest riding on the flanks in order to prevent scattering. For an hour or two every animal travelled freely, never trying to nibble even the choicest tuft of grass. But, after a while they would inform us that they were hungry, and then the herd would be driven off the road, near water if possible, and allowed to graze for at least half an hour. Several stops would be made, to allow grazing, before completing the day’s march of ten or twelve miles, depending upon the distance to the next good water. Herd duty after arrival at the place selected for camp was justly arranged by roster, the same man doing the same duty and the same proportion of it each day. Similarly the night herd guard duty was done, each cowboy being on duty every day and every night. I heard of no one lying awake at night. Shortly after sunset the cattle would all show signs of having eaten enough, the herd would then be A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 27 rounded up a little closer, and soon all the animals would lie down and go to sleep. At night the cowboy on herd duty rode around and around the herd, stop- ping frequently, taking a lazy, restful position in the saddle, and taking myself as an example, he would frequently take a short nap without getting off the horse. It soon became easy enough to do this, and I believe the poor tired horse slept too. Frequently we saw wild turkeys on or near the trail, also antelope and deer, and, all the time after crossing the Colorado River prairie chickens were abundant. Whenever our meat supply would get low we would stop a couple of days at some good camp, prepare for drying some beef over the fire, kill the animal, cut up the flesh into thin slices and dry it slowly. This was accomplished by spreading out the meat on a scaffolding four or five feet above the fire, and the fire was spread out too, and kept up so as to burn slowly. This dried beef was the best part of our camp food, and did not necessarily have to be cooked again. I would fill a pocket with it and eat as I rode along. It tasted much better than beef dried as the Mexicans do it, slowly in the sun and consuming a week in the operation. Several days after crossing Red River, during one of our halts near the trail, a troop of regular cavalry came along from the north. With one knee hooked around the horn of my cowboy saddle I gazed long and longingly at those soldiers. Before leaving home I knew that the Congressional District in which I lived was already represented at the National Military Academy at West Point, N. Y. I knew that my playmate and schoolmate Andrew Houston had been given the appointment, and when I left home I had no 28 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY hope of getting there. All the same, that troop of cavalry, on that hot day in June, 1871, north of Red River, started me again to much thinking and much wishing. Passing north from Red River Station we soon came in sight of mountains to our west, and we knew from those we met daily along the trail that those mountains and tall peaks were close to the new army post of Fort Sill, in the Commanche and Kiowa country. Several days more and we arrived at the Little Washita River, and there we ascertained that the Choctaw Indians, through a white man named Love, acting as their agent at the crossing, required all herds to pay toll before being allowed to cross the river, so much per head. We halted that night on the south bank of the river and discussed the situation among ourselves, feeling much irritated, and seriously considering waiting right there till eight or ten other herds could join us, and then force our way through without pay- ment of anything to anybody. But, finding that Mr. Love, the agent for the Choctaws, would accept payment in cattle no matter how lame and footsore, and having in our herd several of that description which we doubted being able to keep up with the herd much longer, it was concluded to pay toll and pass on, which we did, and while doing so we saw a herd of several hundred Texas cattle which had already been collected from previous herds, at that same place and in the same manner. About a million cattle crossed that little river during the summer, and we were near the middle of the procession. Mr. Love and the Choctaw Nation were very thrifty people. A night or two later two Choctaw Indians came A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 29 into our camp about sunset and wanted to stay all night with us. Of course we said “All right,” and gave them all they wanted to eat, and we listened to their talk in easily understood English. One of the Indians had a big, fine, fat mule, and the other rode an equally fat pony, both animals in pink of condition excepting too fat for a race. Although there was no evidence of fatigue or sweat on their animals the Indians told us of having travelled that day 25 or 30 miles, and of being tired and hungry, man and beast. That made us suspicious, and all night long we watched both of them very closely. The next day they remained around and seemed to be in no hurry to leave, but finally they left about noon. We were then waiting in camp for the arrival of another herd, for some reason, which I do not now remember, and we intended remaining there the next night. But, in the afternoon we saw in the distance several parties of Indians, and that night getting nerv- ous because of what we considered suspicious actions on the part of the Indians we got up about 9 o’clock, p.M., broke camp and hit the trail for a long night march, with me in front, on my slow, one-eyed mare, not the one I rode from home. It was good marching, nice and cool, and the cattle seemed willing to go, which helped us very much. The trail led along the top of the ridge, with creeks and beginnings of creeks on each side of our very crooked road, and because of the lay of the land and of the circumstances which caused that night march, it was easy for the imagination to run riot, ^ us t- a r li ttle- -brfe After marching a couple of hours without a halt I was positive that I saw a party of five or six 30 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Indians approaching the trail on horseback from the left and rear, and getting nearer and nearer. These Indians seemed to move two and two, and sometimes one would drop behind, or move to the head of the column, making their march somewhat irregular, as Indians do. This was what I expected, and I had no doubt that I was soon to be up against it, good and hard, and with no one to help, the others being some distance to the rear and on both sides of the road, and my pony un- usually slow in speed. My hair raised my old hat an inch or two from my head; I could feel the hat rise. Still, I had no thought of running away, or of surrender- ing, and there was no trembling as I pulled out my old cap and ball Colt six shooter, and got it ready for fight. I was a good shot with that pistol, having killed with it various small birds and small animals for the mess as we came up the trail. I had made up my mind to dash in among the Indians when about 50 yards away, waste no shots, kill all I could, and if necessary to finally save myself from capture, I intended to use the last load on myself. We rode on one or two hundred yards more, when, looking again and again to make sure, I realized that the objects so long the cause of my uneasiness had assumed the appearance of small trees along a winding ravine, which headed farther on and nearer to the trail. My hair had already resumed its natural condition, and my hand had never trembled, but I certainly drew a big, long breath of relief then. I have often thought of that experience, and have been greatly encouraged by it, drawing from it the conclusion beyond a doubt that one’s hair may raise one’s hat high from the head and still the wearer of the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 31 hat may be able to put up a good fight and never think of running away. A day or two more and our looked-for companion herd came on, having among its cowboys the broth of an Irish boy, fresh from New York’s Bowery, and recently an unsuccessful candidate for a West Point cadetship. That boy told lots about the Academy, how they did and looked, and everything he told me only made me the more desirous of entering the Army through that best front door, until finally, after several weeks of riding with that boy, the wish became the father to the thought, and I forgot all about my friend Andrew Houston, at that time a cadet from my district. When we were south of the Cimarron River, per- haps a day’s march from it, we concluded one day to go out and hunt buffalo. We had for several days noticed plain proofs of the nearness of the big herd, although we had seen none. Returning cowmen had told us in what direction to look for them. So, one day, after a short march, we made camp near a thicket of ripe wild plums, had dinner, mounted our horses, and with only cap and ball Colt revolvers as our weapons we rode westward to hunt the buffalo. We were glad to ride in that direction because it gave us a guide in coming back to the camp after the hunt. The trail ran almost north and south, and if we should travel steadily toward the setting sun, we could, by turning our backs on that sun finally strike the trail again. We remembered and used that knowledge. After riding a few miles, scattered abreast so as to cover a broad front, I noticed some of the others riding at full speed. I followed in the same direction, and soon discovered that we were chasing a young 32 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY buffalo about two years old. We soon caught up with it and killed it, a poor lean thing which for some reason could not accompany the herd. We rode on, all together now, and after another ride of a couple of miles we saw a huge buffalo bull, all by himself, near a big ravine. We got into that ravine, and by means of the concealment given us by its banks we succeeded in getting within a hundred yards of the big animal, and then we dashed out at full speed and rode around him, for he did not try to escape, but merely raised his head from grazing and looked at us as though we were as great curiosities to him as he was to us. He was certainly interesting to us, but we had no time to waste, so we got out our old time Colt cap and ball revolvers and each of us fired a shot or two, and the old time monarch of the herd was dead, without offering resistance or attempting to escape. One of our party took off the skin of his long beard, also that covering his brisket and knees, for use as saddle pocket covers, and again we rode on towards the setting sun. After another ride of two or three miles we saw, this time a small herd of nine buffaloes, in an open, level plain, harder to approach under cover or concealment than the others had been, and soon they saw us and promptly started off at the queer gait which buffaloes use in running, all four feet striking the earth at the same instant. My horse, this time not the one-eyed mare prev- iously described, was fastest but soon gave out, and I dropped to the rear and put up my muzzle loading pistol, and followed on to where either Henry Vickers or John Tanksley had roped, or lassoed a three-year- old buffalo cow. My comrades were enjoying the sport. No shot had been fired, and none would have A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 33 been fired but for the fact that we could not afford to lose our rope. So, some of the others fired a shot or two, we got our rope, and the hunt was over. It was then a few minutes before sunset, and from where we then were we looked, and the sight was one to be always remembered. We were on the edge of a broad valley, and could see up and down it for many miles, and we could see across it to the other edge, or ridge. Our view included miles and miles of buffaloes, as far as the eye could reach in several directions, the nearest animals being half a mile from us, and none of them paying the slightest attention to us. That was the big south herd, existing at that time, and it then numbered many thousands. We must have seen about ten thousand, and we saw only a part of the herd. We had frequently seen herds of more than one thousand cattle, and we earnestly discussed the probable number of buffaloes in sight. After looking our fill we turned our backs on the setting sun and rode towards the cattle trail, chasing a herd of antelopes as we went back. The only thing I killed was a big rattlesnake. I shot the big bull once or twice, but it did not seem like hunting or shooting wild game. I did not shoot at the young cow, feeling no desire to kill an animal which was not at liberty with some chance of escape. We reached camp with- out trouble, and we saw no more buffalo on the trip, but I will never forget the one view I had of the great south herd. We finally crossed the Kansas state line. We rode through a border town called Sedgewick, and through a much larger one named Wichita, and we stopped at Newton, then the terminus of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. 34 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Wichita, at that time a town of ten or fifteen hundred people, was built entirely on the north side of the Arkansas River, but the broad valley, on both sides as far as the eye could reach, was dotted with small board buildings called “preemption houses,” located on 160 acre tracts of land preempted under the laws of the United States and of the State of Kansas, and slept in by the owners often enough to make good the several claims of the builders of the houses. The houses were few and far apart at that time. In a few years a good part of Wichita was south of the Arkan- sas River. Some people must have done a big busi- ness in real estate dealings during that period of building, the land being at first pasturage, then big fields, then acreage for small farms, and finally town lots, more or less covered with houses. We reached Newton about the first of August, and found it to consist of one long street of hastily built wooden houses, extending perpendicularly away from the railroad and depot. There were few, if any, houses built exclusively for use as residences. Each store had an upstairs for the owner to live in, and saloons and gambling houses were exceedingly abun- dant. A reputed son of Kit Carson was town marshal, and he was very unpopular with the Texas cowmen. Now and then, rather frequently, there were rows of varying importance and consequences. Our camp was pitched a mile from town, in grass two or three feet high, on the banks of a small creek. Herd duty was so divided as to give me all the morning and the first half of the night to myself. Frequently I loafed into Newton, to kill the time, but without a cent in my pocket. On one occasion I saw, as I walked toward town, several men hurrying A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 35 afoot across the prairie in various directions. I inquired in town what it meant, and was informed the Vigilance Committee had requested those men to leave town immediately, and the order was being promptly obeyed. Soon there was an election, and we cowmen were urged by both sides to vote. But we carefully ob- served the law and stayed away from the polls. One side, according to its advertisements, represented law and order, and designated the other side as roughs, toughs and saloon element generally. I believe that the “law and order” people won out, with the assist- ance of the Viligance Committee. Money was very plentiful there, and good positions were easily obtained by those who wished to work. Each store had outside the front door great piles of dried buffalo hides, awaiting sale and shipment east. Buffaloes were said to be only 20 miles away, but I think they were farther. One morning, as I was going to town, I saw people collected at some dance houses south of the railroad. We had heard a number of shots the night before, in that direction, and evidently something had happened there, so I sauntered over to see what they were look- ing at, and, incidently, to kill time. I learned that there had been a dance there the night before, also quite a fight between Texas cowmen, called “long- horns” and other men called “short horns.” At that time practically all Texas cattle had long horns, some having very long horns with very little curve to the front. The result of the fight was four killed and four wounded, and from an examination of the outside of the dance hall quite a number of shots had been fired from the outside by people who could not 36 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY possibly have seen anything to shoot at, there being no door and no window near some of the bullet holes. One of the men killed was named McClosky, and one of the wounded men was named Hugh Anderson, a Texan. McClosky was a “short horn” who had a few weeks previously killed a Texas cowboy under circum- stances which made him very unpopular with Texans at Newton. It was said that in the fight Anderson killed McClosky. A few weeks later I saw Anderson on the steamer between Brashear City, La., and Galveston, Texas, when I was on my way home, and about four years afterwards while on duty, cadet, at West Point I read in a paper how a Hugh Anderson and a McClosky had killed each other in the Indian Territory. The paper stated that Anderson had formerly killed a brother of McClosky. I sat at the table with Anderson during several meals, while on the steamer. He showed evidence of recent injury 7 . I have always liked music, and have noticed the topical songs of the day, and I remember that when I left home in March, 1871, the girls were singing “Come, Birdie, come, etc,” and I was to hear the next in chronological order while in Newton, under circum- stances that impressed the song and the incident strongly on my memory. While loafing along the streets one morning, merely killing time, I heard some singing in a saloon and naturally drifted that way and entered the saloon. I saw a big, rough looking fellow who had just finished singing “When you and I were young Maggie,” and he then leaned against the bar and looked around the room. There were a number of men in the saloon, and there was, apparently, a lull in the drinking business, so that the singer had to face A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 37 the possibility of going dry a little longer, for he was evidently singing for a drink. But he was equal to the occasion. Selecting a small, harmless looking fellow he pretended to know him, and said, “Come here, John, old man, it’s an awful long time since I saw you. Well, well, I’m powerful glad to see you.” Then the big singer turned around to the crowd and called out, “Come on, boys, and have a drink. Step up and nominate your pizen.” And a dozen men did not miss such an opportunity. All of them having gotten the last taste of alcohol from the bottom of the glass, and naturally looking for the singer to foot the bill, what was my surprise to hear the big fellow say, as he slapped on the back his simple looking friend John, “By — , I haven’t got a cent. See here, John, you’ll have to pay for the drinks.” And John did pay for them. If I had entered the room a little sooner I believe that I would have been selected to be the “sucker,” I looked so green. Maybe my not joining the crowd of drinkers saved me. My poor old sugar loaf hat, much worn hickory shirt, blue je^ans trousers and rusty looking old shoes did not protect me from the sharps that swarm thick in such places as Newton was then. On one occasion I stepped into one of the inevitable gambling places, and instantly the only two occupants of the room brightened up and began to play faster as I took a seat only a few feet from them. One of them pushed five chips towards me and said, “Take those, and bet them for me. I know you have good luck.” I insisted that I knew nothing about the game, and would only lose his money for him, but that wasn’t enough. The gambler insisted on my betting his 38 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY chips, two at a time, and I did so, twice. Then, having lost four of the chips, I put down a single chip, the last one I had. The man appeared hurt, and somewhat insulted. “Well, the betting is two chips at a time.” And when I reminded him that I was merely betting his chips, and had only one chip left, he asked, “And can’t you make it good, and keep on the game?” At last I knew that I had better be going, so I quietly said, “Good morning,” and went out. It humiliated me very much to be taken for such a greenhorn. There were other instances like the one described, which made me hasten to buy better clothes when I was paid off, preparatory to going home. But, I expect that I continued to look just as unsophisticated. CHAPTER II Meanwhile the Irish boy was all the time talking to me about West Point, and what he said was work- ing on my brain, producing strange results. Some- how I became convinced that I was, by my absence from home, missing an opportunity to get the appoint- ment as cadet, and that all I had to do was to return home and take it, ignoring the fact that my boyhood friend was at that very instant holding the position that I craved. But, I firmly believed it, and after remaining at Newton about four weeks I could stand it no longer. I therefore obtained payment of nearly all that was due, told my comrades that I was going home to go to West Point, and started for Texas about September 7, 1871, in company with Charlie Chase and Bit Hines. I bought an old time real carpet bag to put my new clothes in. In those days most men wore paper collars, either glazed or plain, and I believe that I got some but I’m not sure, for I had not worn any kind of a collar for six months. I had gotten along with exceedingly few clothes, and for nearly six months I had been washing them, myself. But now I had two new suits of store clothes, and my old saddle bags were not good enough to put them in. We had a big ham nicely boiled, got several loaves of good bread and a couple of pounds of American 39 40 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY cheese, put these things in my saddle bags, and then we bought second class railroad tickets to Kansas City, then the same kind of tickets to St. Louis. Our second class tickets from the latter city to Mem- phis made us travel from St. Louis to Paducah by steamboat, and we had to travel deck passage. I didn’t like that. At Memphis we stopped one night with a friend of Bit Hines. I believe we slept upstairs in a ware house, down by the river. Charlie Chase remained there with Hines, but I went on to New Orleans, still using second class tickets, all the time for the sake of economy. Just before reaching New Orleans I took a last bite at our ham bone and then I threw away my old saddle bags and ham bone. I also had enough of travelling second rate. In New Orleans I hunted up my brother Will, and stayed with him a couple of days. At the small boarding house where I found him there were quite a number of other men boarders, and one of them attracted my attention because of his good looks, size, apparent strength, and the boldness of his utterances in that day of “White Leaguers” in New Orleans. My brother was a “White Leaguer,” joining the day after that day when the “White Leaguers” whipped the state police. I looked the harder at the hand- some fellow because he did not always agree with my brother. His name was Zorn. During the day or two that I was with my brother I heard the next topical song. It was “Mollie, Darling,” being played by a band marching through the streets. My brother took me to see one of the small weekly drawings of the Louisiana State Lottery where the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 41 prizes were comparatively small also. I bought two chances, one dollar each, and watched the big wheel go around, stop and drop a piefce of paper into a man’s hand. This man then called out a number from the paper, and another man instantly wrote that number on the big blackboard. After a while I saw that one of my numbers had two figures which were in a num- ber copied on the board. I had drawn an “approxi- mation” prize, worth 80 cents. I came out well. I surprised my brother very much by telling him that I was going home to go to West Point, and then asking him what was going on back at home to give me such opportunity. He replied that he knew of nothing except the coming elections, and in answer to my ques- tion told me that the Democratic candidate for Congress was to be Col. D. Giddings, of Brenham. I insisted that Giddings would be elected and would give me the appointment to our National Military Academy , and with that idea possessing me I went on home. I was tired of travelling second rate, so I got a first, class ticket to Galveston, via railroad as far as Bra- shear City and steamship from there to Galveston. As I went up the gang plank into the steamship I heard a voice from a deck passenger entering the ship by a gang plank under me. It was Charlie Chase, who had come second rate. He said, “Will you please save some grub for me, I won’t have anything to eat.” I told him that I would, and I did. I took Charlie Chase something from the table each meal. I found that the man next on my right at the table was Hugh Anderson, who had escaped from Newton. The peace officers had considered him so badly wounded as not to need guarding. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 42 I arrived at Independence with enough money to deposit $100 in the Giddings Bank, at Brenham. This reconciled my father somewhat. But I hit him hard when I insisted that he should go to Brenham as soon as possible and request Col. Giddings, before the election, to give me the appoint- ment to West Point in case he should be elected to Congress. No Democrat had been elected from that Congressional District since the Civil War. I natur- ally believed that the promise would be much easier to make before the election. After a little hesitation my father went to see Col. Giddings and obtained from him the promise to give me the appointment in case he should be elected Congressman. All this time my boyhood friend occupied the place I was so sure of getting, but in January, 1872 he left the Academy, and the cadetship was vacant. Of this, however, I was ignorant, and in fact I had forgotten every obstacle to my obtaining what I was working for. The certificate of election was given to the other man, a General Clark, from Connecticut. Col. Giddings contested the election in Congress, finally won out, sent me the much coveted appoint- ment sometime in June, 1872, and in August of the same year I reported at West Point for the necessary examination. Before I go to West Point and say good-bye to my home I must say a little more about my boyhood in Texas. As previously described, I arrived at Independence in September, 1863, and naturally I remembered something of war conditions in Texas after that date. I saw several generals of the Confederacy, but I remember only Generals Sterling (“Pap”) Price, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 43 J. B. Magruder and J. B. Hood. Price looked as though his men would nickname him “Pap.” He was tall, greyheaded, and whiskered excepting the chin, and looked very fatherly and kindhearted. Magruder was smaller and shorter, and younger, and wore the same sort of whiskers. General Hood had a very long, light brown beard all over his face. However, the war was ended when I saw him driving a buggy through the lane near John McKnight’s house. He was coming from Brenham. Magruder came again, in 1867, to tell us about Maximillian and Carlotta, and their fate at Queretero, Mexico. I saw Walker’s Division camped out on Big Rocky Creek, also organizations from other parts of the army, all seemed equally fond of catching young squirrels out of the trees on that creek. Williamson’s troop of cavalry was stationed for several months in one of Baylor University’s buildings, and played havoc with it and with the neighboring fences. The healthy, outdoor life I led gave me unusual strength and endurance, and made me indifferent to small discomforts, such as go with roughing it in the open. I was the big boy of my set and the leader in all our trips, hunting and fishing, and in mischief, too. There were five or six of us, but seldom that many together in any one enterprise. Sometimes it was a hunt on the Yegua River, and sometimes on the Brazos. On other occasions we would go to the Brazos River for pecans, and would be gone two nights instead of one which was the average, and sometimes it was only for a night’s fishing on the Yegua. On one occasion it was a twelve mile walk to Brenham to see the circus the next day, spending 44 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the night in the woods on the edge of the town, around a big camp fire. For these various trips we took no bedding, and the scantiest of something to eat. Once two of us walked to Brenham merely to get new tubes for my old muzzle loading shot gun. Our outings were mostly in the fall of the year, when pecans were falling and hunting was good. However, our fishing was done in the summer, as a rule. We expected to be cold and hungry, and we were seldom disappointed in that particular. We were on the lookout for piles of cotton and cotton seeds to use as bedding. Two of us tried once to sleep in a house which was built to keep cotton in till ready to be ginned. Some hogs slept under that same house, and I am sure that they rested better than we did. Finding ourselves inhabited by hog vermin we soon went outside where it was drizz- ling, and made a big fire to keep ourselves dry and warm. We did not sleep much that night. On the last described trip Albert Haynes was my companion; indeed he was my companion on almost all my hunting trips horseback. I usually rode my small grey pony, or rather, my father’s. On another occasion the two of us rode over to the Brazos Bottom, intending to stop at Atty Clay’s place. We were riding along slowly, after crossing Old River, and my pony was as quiet as he could possibly be — until suddenly, without the slightest warning he jumped out from under me in the neatest manner possible, and left me sitting upright, in the middle of the road. The pony then realized that he had played me a mean trick, and was frightened, and started home, ten miles off. Albert had to ride hard for a mile before he caught my pony. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 45 We arrived about mid-day at our destination, and we found Curran Holmes working in his cotton field. He was working Atty Clay’s farm that year. Albert and I hunted all that afternoon diligently, and killed nothing at all, so Curran said that he would go with us the next morning if we would help him chop cotton in the afternoon, after returning. We gladly promised, and the next morning we three hunted hard, and killed nothing. In the afternoon Albert and I helped our friend chop cotton, and it was hard work keeping up with him, and of course he made it hard. It was hot, hot enough to bring out of his hole a large rattlesnake, which we promptly killed. A drizzling rain finally made us stop work and go to the house. During the night, what I thought was mere heat showed itself to be quite a fever, which hit hardest about the face. Before we got to sleep I knew that I had the mumps and I knew that the roof leaked, making it hard for me to keep dry while trying to sleep. The next morning Albert and I started home. My mumps had become quite lively, and to make sure that it would continue so, we drove a cow all the way back home. Before leaving the house we tied a board across the cow’s face, the board being several inches broad and covering the eyes, and five or six feet long. Our intention was to compel the animal to keep in the middle of the road, and she did so, finding it impossible to go through the bushes with that long plank across her face and over her eyes. It was a long ride, though the actual distance was only about twelve miles. My mumps got well very quickly. In climbing the very large pecan tree, on the Baptizing Creek about a mile from Independence, we 46 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY boys used a method which I have never seen used anywhere else than under that tree. The trunk of the big tree was more than two feet thick, and therefore too large to be climbed by half grown boys, but the first limb was horizontal and only about 18 or 20 feet from the ground. A much smaller tree which for years had given us an easy lift to that first limb was finally cut down, and therefore we had to find another way to rob the big tree of its pecans. We were equal to the emergency. We found in the woods a long, small tree which had a very small limb not far from the ground, and by cutting the tree below the small limb, then cutting that limb 18 or 20 inches from where it left the body of the tree, we had a long pole with a hook at one end of it. Three or four of us, by working together, easily raised and hooked the big end of the pole over the horizontal limb of the big pecan tree, and while one boy held the pole steady the others climbed up it, and thence along the horizontal limb and up the body of the big tree to where we could thrash off the small limbs practically all the pecans. Twice I swam the Brazos River one day, each time to bring back a wild turkey which Billie Martin had just killed and which he gave me for my trouble. Albert Holmes and I were at that farmhouse of Atty Clay, where we were hungry after twice robbing the beehive. We had shown to Billie Martin where the turkeys had flown across the river and he killed more than he gave me. I took one of the turkeys home with me the next day. On another October day, shortly after sunrise, I rode my horse into the Yegua River which was at the time level with its banks and running fast with falling water backed up from the Brazos. The bank was A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 47 almost perpendicular, we went off into water over our heads, the strong current carried us down stream so far that it was very difficult getting out. I had to get off into the water, at that point swimming deep, throw the bridle over the horse’s head, swim out first and then pull the horse up the steep bank. I was alone, and it was lucky that I found a smouldering fire by which to warm myself and dry my clothes. On another occasion I pushed the same good old horse off the bank into a badly swollen stream which was swimming deep from a rain which had just fallen, and I swam after him and again assisted him to land on the other bank. I had been to Chappel Hill collecting, and the rain came just after I had passed that creek. All the wild fruits and nuts for miles around were accurately located, and frequently visited by us. I made it a special point to take home ripe wild plums and black haws for my mother, who was just as fond of those things as were her children. All those experiences prepared me for my cowboy life, and the two together gave me good reason to look forward with some confidence to the hardships of military life in the field. I found that I was not mis- taken, and that my boyhood roughing it had made all after experiences comparatively easy. When I arrived at home from being a cowboy, about September 11, 1871, my father gave me work teaching small boys in the preparatory part of Baylor University, and it was good for me. It assisted my father, and it meant more money on which to travel to West Point. It also increased my chances of passing the entrance examination there. That ex- amination was even then considered very difficult, 48 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY but it was mere child’s play in comparison with what is now required. Sometime in May or June, 1872, I received from Col. Giddings my appointment, and I went in August to report at West Point. I had still a little money from my Kansas trip, and I had made some more teaching those small boys. I had to go by Baltimore to collect from my father’s brother Fuller some of the money which he owed me for teaching. For economy’s sake I did not use the sleeping car. This saved me quite a lot of money. I found that I was very, very ignorant of the ways of the world, especially in travelling. Although still possessed with the firm belief that I would enter the Military Academy and graduate from it, I continued studying for the examination. How- ever, the examination surprised me with its ease of passing. My task in Mathematics was to reduce the vulgar fraction tt to a decimal fraction, and give the rule. During my few days in “plebe barracks” my room- mates were Crozier, Ellis and two others. The first became Chief of Ordnance, the second died a major of cavalry, and the two others did not graduate. Our examinations were held while the Corps was in summer camp, and we were “Seps” because of the date of such examinations. W’hile preparing for them, and all the time they were going on, my strange confidence in myself continued unabated, to the great amusement of my roommates. “Come here, boys, here is a man from Texas who says he is sure to pass,” frequently collected a crowd of candidates to see the curiosity from Texas. Even when the final result was being published to us I did not weaken. And A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 49 during many disagreeable surprises in after life, for a great many years I never lost my faith in myself and my good luck. When the Corps came in from camp I was assigned an area room on the ground floor in the 7th Division of barracks. My first roommate was Andrew Russel, from Connecticut. On the 1st of September we be- gan recitations. I discovered that I had never before seen hard study, and the end of the third week I paid the penalty of over confidence by being transferred to the next to last section in Mathematics. I did not smile for the next three weeks and I studied as I had never done before, and I was rewarded by a transfer upward one section. The competition be- tween selected bright boys from all over the Union was and is still something which exists nowhere else in the world to the same extent, except possibly at Annapolis. The recitations of Crozier were wonder- ful to listen to, because of their excellence. The most attractive cadet of that class was Sevier Rains, of Georgia, son of an old time regular officer. Men like him are selected to command the rear guard of a retreating army, also of a most forlorn hope. He was killed by the Nez Perce Indians, while still a second lieutenant in the 1st Cavalry. I had failed to provide myself with warm under- clothing, and I paid for it by contracting a severe case of rheumatism. As a boy I had twice been troubled with that terrible disease, and for ten weeks now I lay in the Cadet Hospital and watched my prospects for passing the June examination fade away. From the Hospital I watched the Corps of Cadets march across the Hudson River on the ice. They were on their way to take part in Grant’s second inauguration, in 1873. 50 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY While the Corps were absent another sick cadet, named Warwick, prevailed upon the hospital steward to get him some fresh oysters from Highland Falls, and those oysters Warwick divided with the other sick cadets, including myself. I have never forgotten Warwick’s kindness on that occasion. He was killed in battle near the town of Passi, Panay. As the weeks passed by without improvement in my condition it became evident that I would have small chance of being successful in the coming June examination, especially since we had begun Descrip- tive Geometry while I was sick, and I had never studied it before. After getting my instructor, Lieut. Wm. P. Duvall, to come and tell me of my prospects and finding them very poor, I applied for and was granted a sick leave till the end of August. I left about the 21st of April, 1873, and went home to get well, stopping a few days in Baltimore and several more in Mobile and New Orleans with relatives. On my road home I arrived at Macon, Ga., about 8 p.m. one day and had to lay over till next morning, so I went to a hotel for the night, intending to take the train early next morning. I misunderstood the hour of departure of my train which I plainly heard leave, having been awakened very early by the crow- ing of many roosters scattered over the town of Macon. Being left at Macon for another day I walked about town the best I could, to pass away the time. I found the reason for so much rooster crowing. There was to be a series of cock fights, where roosters from va- rious towns of Georgia and Alabama were to show their prowess in the use of the gaff. I found the place, and had no difficulty in passing A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 51 the morning. One man attracted my especial atten- tion. He was called by many people “ King Richard,” and I dbuld see the reason for that, too. The man had quite a hump on his shoulders, and he wore a big cape, or cloak, and he was in on almost every match. Steel gaffs were used on the roosters, and no match was allowed to proceed until $500 had been bet on it. While the matches were being arranged I frequently heard expressions like “One hundred to ninety on Augusta,” or “Two to one on Selma.” Sometimes a rooster would very quickly kill his antagonist, and would then be matched for a second fight after a few minutes rest. That second match was sure to be fatal to the victor of a previous fight. Evidently there was an injury to the easy victor which had not been discovered, but which took from him enough of his strength and vitality to make him easy game for a fresh rooster. Having arrived at home I had nothing to do but to get well, and I used up all the summer in doing it. I was cramped by the lack of money. I had used up all the credit I had with the Treasurer at West Point, and my father had to help me get back. But we had had nothing like a settlement of my teaching the year before, and I never felt that he overpaid me much even in helping me back from sick leave. And from that date $10 was all that he contributed in money to my support. This makes me practically self support- ing from my 17th birthday. In returning to West Point I travelled by steamer, for economy’s sake, and gave up the last ten days of my leave for the sole purpose of receiving at West Point a few lessons in dancing before the end of camp. I reported for duty on August 19th, got three lessons in 52 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY dancing, and began recitations the first of September with my new class, for my absence from the exami- nation had turned me back one year and had made my course of study one of five years, instead of four. In my journey by steamer, returning from leave, the thing I remember best is the deck covered with big turtles, all lying on their backs, their weights marked on their shells. One of them weighed 192 pounds. I also noticed that we had some Cubans who seemed to be going to New York for the purpose of trying another revolution on their little island. They left Tampa, Florida, with many “Viva’s” of all kinds showered on them by their friends on the dock. The intended revolution did not amount to much. My new roommate was W. C. Buttler, of New Jersey, a member of my old class. This was a mistake of mine, for I should have roomed with a member of my new class, and as soon as possible aligned myself Math my new associates for the next four years. This I did the following June, when we moved into third class camp, my tentmate being A. M. Patch, of Penn- sylvania. He was also my tentmate and roommate during the remainder of my stay at the Academy. I believe we would have continued together indefinitely. The lapse of many years since we left our Alma Mater has not weakened our mutual esteem. Being more studious than Buttler I caused him to give more time and work to his studies. I found that Patch also needed the same kind of friendly prodding which only a friendly roommate could give. When, in December, 1876, all our recitations in Engineering had ceased, and we had nothing to do but prepare for examinations. Patch threw his text book in Engineering against the wall of our room and IN 1875 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 53 vowed, “Old Sears knows he’ll find me (deficient) if he gives me that subject on examination, so I won’t look at it.” I inquired what subject he referred to, and was told that it was “The Groined Arch.” Patch then in- formed me that Lieut. Sears, his instructor in Engineering, had assigned him that subject each of the three times we had gone through the book and must remember that he, Patch, had failed each time in recitation. I insisted that it would be folly for him to neglect particularly the “Groined Arch,” that the instructor had a perfect right to give him that subject each time, especially as he, Patch, had failed in it so uniformly, and that the instructor had, in so doing, plainly informed Patch what his subject on examination would be, and that it behooved him to buckle down to hard work and master “The Groined Arch.” After some little protesting Patch picked up his text book in Engineering and for the first time studied the hated subject which was quite a bugbear to cadets. Patch studied it hard, and then he dared “Old Sears” to give him “The Groined Arch.” I calmly insisted that he would get that particular subject on examination. On the completion of his examination in Engineering Patch bounded into our room and threw his hat one way and his book another, wild with delight boister- ously expressed in repetitions of “I ‘maxed’ it, I ‘maxed’ it, him.” I remarked, “You had the ‘Groined Arch,’ didn’t you?” He had to admit that I was right. In another six months we graduated, and returned to our homes, and as I passed through New York I 54 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY heard Aimee in light opera, and I can still whistle the principal song in it. I stopped in Baltimore to see our relatives there, also stopped for some purpose in Mobile and New Orleans. That was the year that Congress failed to appropri- ate for the pay of the Army. For July, August and September the great firm of Drexel, Morgan and Company paid the officers, 3 per cent discount, and the poor enlisted man went without his pay till the next session of Congress when it was promptly attended to. That neglect on the part of Congress entailed great hardship on both officers and enlisted men; it was a case of fight between a Republican President and a Democratic Congress. I was at West Point five years. During that time the Corps left the “Point” only twice, once for Grant’s inauguration in 1873, and again for the Philadelphia Centennial in 1876. As previously explained, I was not at the first, because of my rheu- matism, but I went to Philadelphia with the Corps and enjoyed the Centennial very much, my only drawback being the lack of money. My father came to my rescue with a $10 bill, which saved the day. At Philadelphia our camp was visited informally one day by the Emperor of Brazil, the kindhearted Dom Pedro. He looked like a nice, big hearted, prosperous farmer, and deserved a better fate than befell him. I had no fights while at the Academy, but I was second in three. I regret very much that during my youth no one compelled me to fight him. It would not have been so very difficult to persuade me to fight. I regard it as a great misfortune that I was not induced to fight my very best two or three tirma between my tenth and twenty-fifth years. Such an A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 55 experience undoubtedly enables one to gauge better the other man’s intentions. Thanks to my early return from sick leave, in 1873, I learned to dance well. I enjoyed the cadet hops very much, but I remained shy and diffident during my entire cadet life. During all my cadet life I did not drink a drop of anything alcoholic, contenting myself with a glass of sweet cider at my last Christmas dinner. Before leaving home I had given my mother a written pledge to drink nothing alcoholic for four years, and that period elapsed before I drank even sweet cider. After my return from sick leave I had another attack of rheumatism, in the following winter. After this second experience I went out very little in cold weather at the “Point,” and during the winter my only exercise was dancing with other cadets in the old Fencing Hall. On week days during the winter we danced with each other, to music furnished by several members of the fine Academy Band, and during that time we practiced up on all dances previously learned, and we taught each other new ones. Without that winter dancing with each other, West Point cadets would not be the graceful dancers that they are. In my class there was one colored cadet who suc- ceeded in graduating. He behaved himself very well indeed, and was generally liked by his classmates but no one openly associated with him, and anyone seen doing so would have been “cut” by the Corps. Henry O. Flipper was the name of my colored class- mate. He was assigned to the 10th Cavalry. “Cutting” consisted in having absolutely nothing to do with another cadet, and on all unavoidable occasions addressing the unfortunate fellow as “Mis- 56 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ter.” This was a cruel punishment, and it was sometimes administered without sufficient reason or provocation. So far as I can remember, Patch and I did not join in any “cuts” except to address all colored cadets as “Mister,” and I advised my sons to be exceedingly careful, and to “cut” no one merely because others were doing it. All the same, “ cutting ” is a part of the unwritten code by which cadets adjust their internal affairs, and taken as a whole it, or the fear of it, does as much good as harm. But on several occasions the “cut” has been most cruelly and un- justly inflicted. At least one such case happened there during my time, and another occurred some years before. “Hazing,” too, is sometimes carried too far, but the young man who cannot endure without complaint the hazing done at West Point would not make much of an officer. From my experience at civilian colleges I know that much worse hazing is done at such insti- tutions than at our Military Academy. Altogether, all things considered, at our National Academies the cadet imbibes a high sense of honor which is not equalled by that acquired in any other way or at any other institutions. Every man stands on his own bottom, and is taken at what he shows himself to be. There exists no East, no West, nor South, nor North, and fair play and no favors con- stitute the excellent procedure followed. However, an army officer’s son will surely find boyhood friends among cadets, and perhaps some friend of his father among the instructors. Although cadets are on such perfect equality the question of money arises disagreeably to the poor boy. I was constantly hampered by the lack of money, and I did not need much. Cadets frequently need per- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 57 haps a dollar to subscribe for some purpose, and I had none, and it humiliated me that I could not bear my share of the expense. When my sons were cadets I remembered my own experience, and I saw to it that they fared better than had been my luck. My sons also found boyhood friends among the cadets, and their father had friends among the officers on duty at West Point. The course there is a fine leveller, and soon brings each son of an upstart, and each petted, spoiled, mother boy to a proper appreciation of his real place in that band which has not its equal in all the world, excepting, possibly, at Annapolis. Sometimes the bright graduate fails to continue his hard work, and allows a slower minded but wiser comrade to pass him in the long race for a high up place. Sometimes the brighter man looks too long at temptation, and as a consequence falls by the wayside. Four years’ train- ing there leaves on our minds and bodies and souls impressions so strong that we cannot evade or avoid the result. Therefore each graduate leaves his Alma Mater a marked man. Our National Academies constitute the cheapest insurance a nation ever had against war and invasion. The pity is, there are so few of us, and this will surely be proven when in the not distant future we will be called upon to face the armies of Germany, or of Japan, or both at the same time. As a rule I believe I was given my proper standing in my studies, but in at least one study I think that my marks were lower than I deserved. In Engineer- ing my highest attainable mark seemed to be 2.7, a perfect recitation being worth 3. During the second half of the year I felt that I was doing especially 58 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY well because I liked history and the description of battles, but it seemed to make no difference, for my “ max ” continued to be 2.7. The instructor had been for a year a cadet lieutenant in the same company with me, and I remembered that older cadets than I had considered him very lazy and very bright. I did not believe that he was doing any outside reading about the events referred to in the text book and our professor’s lectures, and in that thought I saw my opportunity to even up our account a little. In one of our lessons the text, while telling us of the “oblique order of battle” informed us how it had been used at the “Battles of Levetia and Mantinea,” and I did not believe that my instructor had noticed the typographical error in the first name, which was evidently intended to be “Leuctra,” the first of the two great battles where the Thebans, under Epami- nondas and Pelopidas, broke the power of the Spartans. Before entering the section room I told one or two comrades of my intention, which was to ask the instructor about the two battles, and learn if the word “Levetia” was correct. When I asked the instructor as to the correct name of the first battle he got red in the face and said that he did not know, but would tell us in the morning, which he did. But my max continued to be 2.7, and I was not satisfied with one proof of my instructor’s laziness, so I looked for another opportunity to show him up, and I did not have to wait long. Our Dufour’s Strategy said something about Count Tilly besieging Heidelberg in 1619, and of the King of Bohemia advancing to the relief of the city. I was sure that my instructor knew little, if anything, about the “Thirty Years War,” and that he had not A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 59 read up the lesson, so I asked him as to the correct- ness of the text, telling him that in 1619 Bohemia was not a kingdom and therefore had no king. This time the instructor got redder in the face than before, and simply said that he didn’t know. Of course it was mean in me but I felt again that I had gotten even with my instructor. It was Saturday, and on leaving the section room I thought hard, and began to be afraid that I had made a mistake. I remembered then that the “Thirty Years War” had begun in Bohemia by the election of a Protestant king who was quickly driven out, but that he was really a king for a few weeks, and that he was sometimes called in history “The Winter King,” and the “Snow King.” So I hurried that afternoon to the library and read fast concerning the events in question, and I was ready when I entered the section room Monday morning. My instructor said not a word, however, and I showed up his ignorance and laziness no more, but my max continued to be 2.7, although I sometimes earned a better mark. On leaving the Academy my roommate applied for the cavalry, and I for the infantry. Of my best friends Barry and Blocksom applied for the cavalry, and Glenn for the infantry. Though I had not de- sired the colored infantry I was assigned to the 24th Infantry and was given the first of four vacancies then existing and I have never regretted my service in that regiment. My company was “B,” and when I graduated it was stationed at Fort Duncan, Texas, just outside of Eagle Pass, but because of no appropriation to pay the Army I did not have to join till December, giving me lots of time to loaf about home, renew old friendships and make new ones. 60 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY During those six months that I waited for orders to join my regiment I saw much of my father and mother, and I learned better how fortunate I had been in my selection of parents. My father was naturally and essentially a student, with very little of the practical about him except what concerned preaching and teaching. His views on all subjects were very broad for a man of his cloth, and he was both learned and wise. Added to that, he was earnest and eloquent in the pulpit, a power in the Baptist Church and among the educators of the South. The following anecdote will show that the leaders of the Baptist Church were not always solemn and religious in their conversation. Many years ago the celebrated Baptist preacher Andrew Fuller and my father were great friends and co-workers in their church. For some reason Dr. Fuller was given to attempts to tease my father, and this time he received better than he gave. In the presence and hearing of other pillars of the church Dr. Fuller asked my father, “Now, Brother Crane, will you please tell us the difference between a sand hill crane and a turkey buzzard.” My father was not much given to retort and repartee, and his friend Dr. Fuller was about the only man who would have attempted it with him. The crowd thought my father was cornered, but there was a way out. After looking very thoughtful for a moment my father replied as follows: “Well, the turkey buzzard is fuller in the legs; he is fuller in the chest; he is fuller in the neck; really, he is Fuller all over.” The joke was not on my father that time. As for my mother ! What man can look back more A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 61 than three score years and see his mother, always equal to every occasion of every kind, always prompt to act for the good of her own, tireless, unselfish, and never afraid, always doing for her children and willing to do more, without feeling that he has not properly requited and justified such mother love? Both father and mother have done their part, and I know of no others who have done any better. My mother successfully brought up eight of her nine children, and for a great many years all of the eight answered every roll call, showing the wisdom of her care. Before I permanently leave home and my home friends I must say a little about the man who gave his name to Baylor University; Judge R. E. B. Baylor. About 6 ft. 2 in. tall, straight as an Indian, broad of shoulder and thin in the flank, always dressed in the old fashioned Prince Albert broadcloth suit and full white shirt: we do not see many like him, none better. He was often at my father’s house, where I would care for and sometimes ride his very large, fine, bay horse, listen to his reminiscences and wise remarks on things in general, so that he has impressed me as one of the most interesting men I ever heard talk, the others being Gen. W. T. Sherman and Admiral French Chadwick. In his young days the Judge was a Congressman from a mountainous district in Georgia, and won his election, according to his own description, by his skill in playing on the fiddle. He never used the word “violin.” His competitor was a fiddler, too, but he was left handed, even in fiddling. Thereby hung the tale of Judge Baylor’s success. He made his country 62 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY constituents believe that the other man was really right handed, and that when in Augusta and other large towns of Georgia he performed on the violin with his right hand much better than with his left, saying that left handed fiddling was good enough for the mountains. When the other man on his next visit could not fiddle for the mountaineers with his right hand he lost their votes. The Judge had the best sort of description, or definition of language which appears to be exceedingly learned, but which we can’t quite understand. W T e have all seen or read of men who excelled in the use of such language: they mostly fill high places, make most people wonder at their wisdom and accept them at their own valuation of themselves. The Judge’s description was like a puncture of a wind bag or balloon when he would remark of some great talker, “He slings his ideas higher than he can reach.” Doesn’t that describe it? Even Presidents of the United States have been known to use such language. Finally, in December, 1877, I received orders to report for duty. I borrowed money to pay my way to San Antonio, Texas, and there at the Menger Hotel I found several classmates similarly bound. Glenn, Safford, Kirby, Wayman, Plummer, McMar- tin, Brereton, Bigelow and perhaps one or two others were there. At the Menger we looked longingly at a dance one night, and we all wanted to dance with the prettiest dancer and best looking girl on the floor who belonged to one of the oldest and best families of San Antonio, but we were not inivted to the ball. I be- lieve that young Army officers are in greater demand in San Antonio, now. Older officers amused themselves with giving us A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 63 awful descriptions of what we would find in the near future. One in particular enlarged on the danger of train robbers, and stage robbers. Only one of us seemed to be much interested in the stories of stage hold ups, and that officer was actually held up before arriving at his post. After several days of sight seeing and listening to all sorts of stories of stage robbing and wild animals we started on our several roads. Brereton went with me, in a stage, to Eagle Pass via Fort Clark, and there were five other passen- gers, besides the driver. Among them were two lawyers, Monro and Solon Stewart. The latter is still living in San Antonio. We had the usual experience with mud and a crowded stage, but we got through all right, and at Fort Duncan (Eagle Pass) I ascertained that my company (“B”) was stationed at Fort Clark, through which we had just passed. While at Eagle Pass, Brereton and I went across the river (Rio Grande) to seethe Mexican fiesta then going on at Piedras Magras. We witnessed several bull fights, and saw other amuse- ments offered there to draw the public. I found out that I didn’t remember enough Spanish to order what we wanted to eat, and that Brereton did. But, Brereton was a wonderful linguist. At some place where we ate, and changed horses for the stage I had heard him talking German like one of them, and I had never heard that he knew anything of that language. He said that he had studied it at school. After two or three days at Fort Duncan I took the stage back to Fort Clark where I reported to Lieut. Col. W. R. Shafter, commanding the 24th Infantry and the post of Fort Clark. My captain and first lieutenant had been engaged in giving each other 64 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY official trouble, which at first made my position rather unpleasant. At that time there were collected at Fort Clark 22 or 23 companies of infantry and cavalry, in antici- pation of trouble with Mexico. We were sure of trouble with our neighbor on the south and we enjoyed the prospect very much indeed. Shafter was then about 42 years old, fat and very heavy, but nevertheless a most energetic and efficient officer. He was an excellent post commander. I had never been a cadet officer, and I enjoyed very much the idea of being an officer. As a cadet I had had very little opportunity to command anybody; several drills and tours of Officer of the Guard and one tour of Officer of the Day being all. I had been given very little experience, even in listening to the sound of my own voice at any formation. Therefore, on reporting for duty, I felt very strongly the need of practice and experience in drilling my colored com- rades of the 24th Infantry, and I hastened to request of my temporary company commander permission to drill the company. Lieut. J. R. Pierce was delighted and told me to drill them all I wanted. Knowing my deficiences I carefully studied each day for the next day’s drill, and I confined the exercises to those I had been studying. I had several times heard Emory Upton, the Commandant of Cadets during my first three years at West Point, say that such was his invariable practice, and he was the finest soldier I ever served with. With lots of practice I soon got accustomed to the sound of my own voice in giving commands, and I grew to like very much the drilling and instructing of men, and gradually I acquired confidence in my ability to do it well, and in a few A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 65 months I became, in my own opinion, very efficient in handling my men, on and off the drill ground. Soon I had my first duty on a Garrison Court Martial, in those days composed of only three officers, the junior member acting as Judge Advocate. But, that case was not completed, because of the following accident. On the morning of January 30, 1878, Lieut. Pierce returned from attending reveille and brought with him to our joint room over Capt. Nixon’s quarters two other officers, Lieut. Frank Mills, 24th Infantry, and Lieut. Fred Phelps, 8th Cavalry. I was still in bed, lying on my iron bunk. The three youngsters came in rather boisterously. The weather was cool that January morning, and they had been out in it and felt good. Phelps caught hold of my bedding at the foot of the bed and said to the others, “Here’s how we do it at the Point,” and pulling hard and suddenly he jerked me out of bed on to the floor in the middle of the room, where I landed on my seat, with hands and feet in the air. There had been a loud noise resembling a muffled explosion, or perhaps the falling of the old time wooden bed slats on the floor. From my position on the floor I seemed to rise without effort about six feet away, slapping my back and feeling very much dumfounded, like the others. They asked, “What’s the matter?” Still slapping my back which seemed to burn, I answered, “I believe that pistol went off,” and looking around I continued, “Yes, it did; see that smoke.” Hurriedly all three of them inquired at the same time, “Are you hurt?” “I don’t know,” I said, and I began to examine myself to find out if I had been shot, and where. 66 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY After quite a search I found the exit hole and then the others discovered where the ball had entered. That injury could not be duplicated without death in a hundred intentional efforts. The cal. 45 bullet from my old time Army Colt revolver had passed between two flanges of my back bone, entering at the small of the back on the right side, and coming out just to the front of my right hip bone, then it went up through the top of the house which had no ceiling. Having discovered that I was shot, my friends jumped to the conclusion that I could not walk; so all three assisted me to the other iron bed, and all three ran for the doctor; at any rate they left me. Phelps went for the Post Surgeon, Capt. Passmore Middleton, who soon appeared and began to lay out on the table some ugly looking instruments which I took to be probes. I broke silence with, “You are not going to stick those things into me”; to which he replied, “But I will if you don’t behave yourself.” The Surgeon’s examination proved that the instru- ments were not necessary. In eight days I was out of the house walking around with a crutch. Meanwhile about half of the 4th Cavalry had arrived, under their colonel, Ranald S. Mackenzie, whom I will never forget, and do not wish to. He was an inspiration for many a young officer. He promptly came to see me while I was still in bed, and many others did the same. With the coming of the 4th Cavalry the 24th Infantry had to leave, going to Fort Duncan, only 45 miles away. I remained at Fort Clark to complete my recovery. Soon it was going to be Feb. 22nd, and I told Dr. Middleton that I wanted to stay at Fort Clark until A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 67 after the dance on Washington’s Birthday, and he consented to it. But no one seemed to have the energy and public spirit to get up the dance, so I did it myself, regardless of the fact that I was on sick report, and was really a guest at the post and had no one to help me. However I did it, throwing away my cane on the afternoon of the 22nd, and I danced nearly all night. I had arranged it with Middleton for him to return me to duty the next morning, which I soon knew had been done. By 9 o’clock I was furnished with a copy of an order attaching me to Company “D,” 24th Infantry, the captain of which was then in San Antonio temporarily. In an hour more I was given another order directing me to march the company to Laredo without delay. I began to hustle, and found the company in camp on the Las Moras Creek a mile from the post, awaiting transportation to take it away. I was then told that I would be given a Daugherty wagon, but, because of the need of the wagon that afternoon for a soldier’s funeral, I must wait till next morning before starting away. I wondered at my good luck, for when Col. Shafter went that same road only a week before, with three companies and a band, not one ambulance nor a Daugherty wagon was furnished the command. At least, I was so informed, and I have believed it all these years. And Mackenzie paid no attention to my activity while on sick report, yet he showed that he knew of my condition by giving me the Daugherty wagon for my trip. I was not really well, and I needed the wagon. It was several weeks before I fully recovered. The first march out from Fort Clark was a short one, 68 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY and we camped on the same ground and at the same old nine mile water hole which used to be found near that, and nearly all other old time Army posts on the frontier. In two days more we reached Fort Duncan, and Col. Shafter promptly put Lieut. Marsteller in command of his own company, and kept me at Fort Duncan with my own company. When I joined the 24th Infantry the band leader of the regiment was not a good one, but in a few months Carl S. Gungl was appointed to that position. On the stage, between San Antonio and Eagle Pass, a most unfortunate accident occurred to Gungl. The stage turned over, and both of his ankles were broken. It was many weeks before our new band leader could come along and make us forget the poor music we had been listening to. Gungl was never again able to walk like other men, at least one of his ankles being somewhat stiff. Dur- ing the early stages of his efforts to bring order out of chaos in the instruction of the band his temper was sorely tried because of the lack of knowledge of the men, and to make things worse it still pained the new band leader to walk, and when he had to walk and at the same time act as band leader at military for- mations, his temper was sometimes evident. On several occasions, during guard mount at old Fort Duncan, while I was Officer of the Day, or per- haps acting as Adjutant, I had good opportunity to observe Gungl’s difficulties and his method of solving them. Several times I saw him, while the band was marching in front of me, put one hand in his coat pocket, bring therefrom a rock as big as an egg and throw it at some one of the band, 1 the same time A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 69 saying something to him. The rock was sure to hit, at such close range, and the supply of rocks was generous for I saw this happen more than once. In spite of his difficulties, one of them being the ungovernable temper alluded to, and which was not altogether due to his stage accident, Gungl soon had an excellent band. He was an excellent musician and instructor. CHAPTER III At that time there were in the neighborhood of Eagle Pass some of the rough and ready desperadoes that have left such an impression on our border land. One of them, named King Fisher, had killed many men, and there were others who were just as good shots and just as ready to fight. The saloons of Charlie Fessman and Mike Wippf witnessed many interesting occurrences, and sometimes it seemed that it might become our military' duty to go out and bring some of those fellows in to justice. Part of the time I commanded my own company, and at other times I was attached to one of the troops of the 4th Cavalry then stationed at Fort Duncan. It frequently happened in those days that a young infantry officer would be given cavalry duty, so my detail was nothing out of the ordinary, and I was glad to go. One of the first field duties with the cav- alry given me was to take down the Rio Grande to El Jardin a detachment of Troop “E” 4th Cavairy, and relieve a similar detachment already there and bring it back to Duncan. So, down the river we marched, 20 to 30 miles a day, depending upon the distance to the next convenient camping place, and I enjoyed it immensely. On the third day we arrived at El Jardin, and I very promptly bought a young goat to take the place of the fresh meat that I should have brought in 70 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 71 with my rifle, to eat instead of the very fat bacon then furnished in the soldier’s ration. It was very fat. Intending to remain over a day I was on my horse early the following morning, with my rifle and ready to hunt, and was just about to leave camp when up galloped a messenger from Fort Duncan, named Hamilton, who had been riding hard. He handed me a letter containing an order for me to take all the men at El Jardin, and with them, guided by Hamilton, march across country to Carrizo Springs and join Lieut. Hatfield who would be there with the main body of the troop. In a few minutes we started across country, all glad to leave El Jardin with such prospects ahead of us. Indians were said to be near Carrizo Springs. We saw no wagon road for more than 30 miles. We sometimes travelled what Hamilton called a smugglers’ trail, and sometimes there was no trail at all. The wildest animals that we saw that day were some wild horses which would not allow us to approach nearer than one thousand yards before running further away. I missed one or two good shots at deer. I had sent back to Duncan with the wagons my fine sporting rifle, and I was now trying to use a soldier’s carbine. About 8.30 p.m. that day in May we arrived at Carrizo Springs and saw camp fires on several hills. Hatfield was there with his troop, and Buliis was there with his Seminole Scouts. I visited their camps that night, and learned that already it was certain that it was another false alarm, no Indians. But, Hatfield and I had no desire to return to the post immediately, so we carefully studied the order and concluded that under it we could go on down the Nueces River a few days, keeping, of course, a good 72 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY lookout for Indians. We did so, and saw no Indians, for there were none in the country, but we enjoyed very much the wild country passed through, also the game we saw. One day I brought into camp, killed with a soldier’s carbine, a beautiful specimen of the ocelot, a very large, long tail cat with spots like those of a leopard, or tiger. The ranchmen called it a tiger cat. On another day I killed two turkeys at one shot with that same carbine. I was on the opposite side of the river from them, and saw them running away from me down a straight path, and I kneeled and fired at the nearest bird, hoping to hit more than one, with perfect success. I found a drift pile and on it I crossed the river with my turkeys. While walking a big tree I saw, in the water at my feet, a gar at least four feet long. I drew my revolver and putting the muzzle close to the big fish I fired. The gar slowly sank. We had a fine time during the entire scout. The killing of the ocelot is worth a description, and I’ll give it. With the soldier carbine I did some very poor shooting before I learned how low I had to aim. I missed at least seven shots at turkeys less than 75 yards away, but at last I killed one by shooting it through the high part of the neck when I had aimed at the body ! With the valuable information given me by the killing of that turkey I left camp one morning and walked up the Nueces River. I found, by following the river bank, that the stream at one place made a regular horse shoe bend, with the ends of the shoe only about one hundred yards apart. I was glad to remember the short distance across, for when I shot a big, fat 'coon out of the forks of a tree at one end of that short dis- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 73 tance, the noise of shooting brought out of a hollow log near the banks of the river a beautiful, long tail, spotted wild cat, which ran down the river and followed its bend. I instantly ran across the neck of the horse shoe bend of the river and beat the cat to it. In fact, I had to wait what seemed to me quite a while before the cat slowly crept in sight. Aiming low, with one shot I killed my first “tiger cat,” and I carried it into camp on my shoulder. Bullis is the only other officer that I know killed one. I forgot the hide when I moved from Duncan the next year. A short time after that a still finer outing was given the troops of that part of Texas. At that time a treaty between Mexico and the United States gave each nation the right to pursue across the boundary line depredating Indians, provided the trail remained good and hot. Well, a trail was found crossing the Rio Grande at Hackberry Ford which remained good and hot a long time. A battery of field artillery from San Antonio, several companies from Fort McKavett, other com- panies from Duncan and Del Rio, together with infantry, cavalry and scouts from Clark, all crossed the river at the Hackberry Ford in pursuit of depredating Indians. Col. Mackenzie with about six troops of the 4th Cavalry and some scouts crossed over several days ahead, having a Mexican guide. They went many miles into Mexico, headed straight for the home of certain Indians who were known to be bad. The guide got sick, or faint hearted, and failed to guide Mackenzie to where the Indians lived, thus necessitating his return. He came down a beautiful river to where Col. Shafter was camped with the main body, awaiting developments. The main body was 74 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY composed of infantry, cavalry, field artillery which included six field pieces and two Gatling guns, and a wagon train, in all about 700 more men to assist Mackenzie’s 300 in case of trouble. We had all made a march of concentration on that ford, and then we crossed easily and smoothly, an infantryman mounted behind each cavalryman. We were camped ten or twelve miles inland, on a beautiful little river, waiting for the fight to come our way. I caught a few bass while thus waiting. Mackenzie was very much disgusted and not amiable about that time. Considering the fact (?) that we were after Indians, and could not find them, it might be supposed that we returned promptly by the same route that we had used in getting there. Nothing like that happened. We continued our march into Mexico, being several days on the south side of the Rio Grande, and we saw some very pretty country. One day we arrived about mid-day at Remolino, at the junction of two bold mountain streams named Rey and Molino. The town was occupied by several hundred Mexican regulars under Col. Pedro Valdez, nicknamed “Winker.” Valdez sent Mackenzie word, “You can’t pass through here, w T e are here and will resist.” Mackenzie replied, “It is now 12 o’clock and my men have stopped for lunch. At 2 o’clock we are going to march through Remolino, and you had better get out of the way.” We marched through Remolino, under orders which contemplated battle, the 24th Infantry being given the route through town. Col. Sliafter gave his own regiment what we requested of him, the nut to crack, if there should be one. Our battlion, in skirmish A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 75 line, marched through the town and kept on across the valley towards some bluffs where we saw some Mexican troops, also in skirmish line and apparently waiting for us. Our orders not to fire first came from Mackenzie, and it was said that in obedience to them our men had even allowed a bear to cross the road in front of them without molesting it. We were still obedient. The Mexicans remained in sight until we arrived with- in about 200 yards of their line on the bluffs, and then they disappeared. On climbing the bluffs we saw them galloping down the road, about 300 yards from us. That road was our route, too, and we followed and went into camp after marching some six miles further. According to report, Valdez sent word to Mackenzie that night, “I will escort you across the river.” To which Mackenzie replied, “All right, but keep out of the way and stay at a safe distance.” We were headed towards Monclova Vieja, but just before reaching that town on the Rio Grande our cavalry drove some Mexican troops off several hills which commanded the road, and captured one soldier, but released him before night. We crossed the river at Monclova Vieja and then marched slowly to our several stations, the field artillery and the 10th Infantry stopping a short time at Duncan, in camp. We had on that expedition approximately 600 infantry, 400 cavalry, one field battery of six pieces, Bullis’ Seminole Scouts, and two Gatling guns under Lieut. F. H. Mills, 24th Infantry. Bullis commanded his scouts and was greatly trusted. We had many wagons, and of great meaning as showing what we 76 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY expected to do in Mexico, we had 39 Red Cross ambu- lances. I carefully counted the ambulances. Mackenzie commanded the expedition, and under him Shafter commanded the infantry, S. M. B. Young the cavalry, and Williston the artillery. Joseph H. Dorst was our Adjutant-General, and H. W. Lawton was our Chief Quartermaster. We had infantry from the 10th, 20th, 24th and 25th regiments, and cavalry from the 4th and 8th, and per- haps from the 10th also, but I am not sure about the last regiment. Mackenzie commanded a district, which, however, did not include the 10th Infantry at Fort McKavett, nor the artillery at San Antonio, the location of Department Headquarters. Therefore, the Depart- ment Commander, Brig. General E. 0. C. Ord, a fine and very efficient officer, must have given orders for the concentration and march into Mexico. And Ord being the able and very bright man that he was, surely did not allow that expedition to move without orders, or instructions of some sort from Washington. Undoubtedly Mexico took up the matter through her minister at Washington. My belief has always been that Gen. Ord, in being retired at 62 years of age was made the scapegoat of the expedition. This retirement happened two years later, but diplomacy moves slowly. During our march it was our belief that it was done with the hope and expectation of getting up a war with Mexico : that Mackenzie with his cavalry was to march in, jump and surprise a band of Indians in the mountains, these people living in peace and friendship with their Mexican neighbors who were almost as Indian as they were. Their Mexican neighbors were A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 77 expected to take up the fight in defence of their Indian friends, Mackenzie was to retreat slowly down the river, not too fast but just fast enough to induce the other fellows to follow. In two or three days Mac- kenzie would reach our camp, a real fight would take place, and war begin! All that was our understand- ing, and nothing but the failure of Mackenzie’s guide prevented that officer from executing his part of the program. Now and then, for many years afterwards, the participants in that expedition have talked with each other about the “Battle of Remolino,” and we believed as I have described it. As stated, a battalion of the 10th Infantry returned with us to Fort Duncan, and went into camp out in the chapparal behind the post. A General Court Martial was convened and ready for our return, and I was to be the Judge Advocate of it. It was my first duty as Judge Advocate of a General Court, and I studied hard to prepare myself for it, and I knew my duties well before the court met. In those days we had no court stenographer, so the Judge Advocate had to do all the work for himself, and each day the proceedings of the preceding day had to be on the table ready for inspection by any member who might wish to refresh his memory, also to see if the Judge Advocate knew his business and did it well. This was especially applicable to the case of a very young officer, like myself, and my patience was sorely tested many times by the request of some officer, usually of the 10th Infantry, “Proceedings, please.” One officer, in particular, was given to making that request, and finally I broke loose. With a quick movement I shoved the papers towards him and said, “Damn it, take the proceedings.” 78 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The other man, a veteran of the Civil War, said “Mr. President, Mr. President, the Judge Advocate swore at me.” My answer was, “Mr. President, I said, ‘Damn it, take the proceedings.’ ” The President of the Court quietly said, “Mr. Judge Advocate, please proceed with the business of the Court,” and I did, without further interruption or annoyance from any one. On returning to Fort Duncan from our expedition I went across the river just as if nothing had happened. Brereton and I had been going over frequently and talking with a chocolate man who was keeping us posted with the fortunes of one Arriola, a Mexican who was wanted on both sides of the river, as frequently happened in those days. When we left for a trip up the river and then across it with Mackenzie’s little army Arriola had been caught by the Mexicans and by them condemned to death. The date had been set for his killing. A day or two after our return Brereton and I went across to see our chocolate man and to learn what had become of Arriola, so we merely remarked to the chocolate man, “And so they have killed Arriola.” It required a number of exchanges of words between us and the Mexican chocolate man to make him under- stand what we were talking about and then he re- marked with much surprise. “Why? Arriola killed! No! Why should they? Arriola is an officer in the Mexican Army now.” That gave us some sort of an idea as to where the Mexicans got some of their officers from. In those days, in order to save the Quartermaster and Commissary of the post much tedious work a A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 79 “Receiving Board” was detailed monthly, to receive, weigh, measure, inspect and count all supplies received at the post. The Board consisted of three officers, the junior to act as recorder and do practically all the work. All supplies were shipped by wagon from San Antonio, the nearest railroad station. Fuel and hay were obtained from the immediate vicinity by con- tract. I was frequently the Recorder of such a Board, and was on hand when the wagons arrived from San Antonio with subsistence stores, clothing and ord- nance, or from the neighboring mesquite woods and unfenced pastures loaded with fuel and hay. I soon learned that the Mexican is an expert in piling cord wood so that a measured cord will not contain a cord of wood, but will instead, contain and conceal a great many vacant spaces. This was especially true when more than one row or long pile was to be measured. The wood would be piled so close together that it was impossible to examine the inner faces of any two rows. The entire quantity delivered would be arranged that way, two rows close together, two and two. I never received at full measurement any cord, but deducted from 5 to 15 per cent from outside measurements, usually 10 per cent. I would sometimes reject wagon loads of hay because of too much dirt in it. The Mexicans some- times cut their hay with a hoe. At that time the Irish potato was not included in the authorized ration, but General Mackenzie, being very energetic and considerate of the welfare of his men, made arrangements in San Antonio, and quite a supply of that vegetable was shipped from there to Fort Duncan. The Receiving Board was called upon to receive, and when all the good potatoes were gone 80 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY we were required to ascertain the loss in weight, and to fix the responsibility for that loss. Our first deci- sion was right and just, for we held that no one should be made accountable for such a natural loss, but higher authority insisted that some one should pay for the loss in weight also for the rotten potatoes. We there- fore found General Mackenzie accountable, and assessed the loss, or damage against him! We never heard officially from that brilliant decision, but Joe Dorst, Mackenzie’s adjutant, asked me one day, “What in the h — 1 were you people thinking of?” An incident occurred one night at Mike Wippf’s saloon in Eagle Pass that taught me how to wear a pistol so as to be able to use it to the best and quickest advantage. It also showed me that our Army way of carrying it was a poor one. There were no electric lights in Eagle Pass at that time, and as I entered the saloon about 8.30 p.m. I noticed a very strong but suppressed excitement, and special interest was centered in a couple seated close together and facing a comer not far from the bar. The two men were seated, side by side, on a bench without back or side, and they w T ere talking to each other most earnestly and with many gestures, espe- cially one of them, the man on the left. I inquired of some one what it all meant, and was told that both of these men were “bad,” both having killed at least one man, that the man on the left wanted to kill the other fellow and would surely try, if allowed any sort of a chance; that the man on the right was just as game as the other but he simply did not want to fight that night and that his advantage in position enabled him to control the situation. This control of the situation was given by the differ- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 81 ent manner in which the two men wore, or carried their revolvers. Their backs were towards us, as they faced a corner of the room. The man on the left — as we saw them — had his revolver on his left side, with grip, or handle to the front, making it difficult to reach with his right hand. While the man on his right had his pistol on his right hip, with grip to the rear, a most easy and natural position, and making the pistol easy to quickly grasp with the right hand, forefinger on the trigger. The man on the left used very extravagant gestures, and I was told that he was trying to get his right hand over to his left side where his revolver was, and my attention was invited to how the other man answered every such demonstration by quickly and quietly keeping his right hand always in an inch or two of his pistol grip, with muzzle between his legs. A fight with anything like even chances was evidently impossible. They rose to take a drink. We moved to one side. The two men walked up to the bar and got their drinks, remaining in the same relative positions and holding their glasses in their left hands. They walked out into the dark street, still in the same relative position, and an hour later I saw those two men seated in the dark on the front step of some man’s house, very silent, and the wise man still retaining his original advantage in position and manner of carrying his revolver. Some years later I described that incident in one of our service journals, and argued from it that we ought to wear our revolvers in the same manner that the man on the right wore his. The only attention attracted was that of an old ordnance sergeant, who 82 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY replied in a few words, merely explaining how the existing regulations required us to wear our revolvers. Many years later the change came, and we finally directed our people to wear pistols in the manner I had recommended, just as most cowboys and frontiersmen had been doing for more than 20 years. Our Ordnance Department is very conservative. As previously explained, my regimental commander, Col. Shafter was, in spite of his great size and weight, a very energetic man. He was fond of hunting and I was made glad of it, for he took me with him on a fine hunt in the fall of 1878. He took also Dr. Harmer, a contract surgeon, and better still he carried with him into the field the best field cook in the 24th Infantry, a company musician named Henry Briscoe who spent much of his time in the guard house because of strong drink. We had an escort wagon and several men, including Briscoe. Col. Shafter, Dr. Harmer and I rode in the old Daugherty wagon which we then considered a fine vehicle for the frontier. We travelled towards the Nueces River, and about 25 or 30 miles from the post we saw the fresh hide of a jaguar in a man’s yard, hung out to dry. Shafter promptly stopped the wagon, and we went in the yard and interviewed the ranchman. We learned that only the day before he had, with the assistance of his half dozen dogs, trailed and treed and killed the big animal. Shafter pleaded with the man to go out again and take us along. The fellow said that he had no objec- tion, but did not see how he could. “Look at my dogs’ feet. They can’t run now,” he added in explana- tion. We examined the feet of all the dogs, and then we understood well enough. The dogs lay scattered A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 83 here and there in the shade, and lazily allowed us to pick up a foot and look. Their feet were all more or less raw, the padding cut and torn and the outer cov- ering rubbed off, toe nails more or less loosened, and here and there a nail missing. We had to give up the idea of a jaguar hunt. “Some other day,” the Col. said, and on we drove to a crossing of the Nueces River near an old bed of the river called “Lake Espantosa.” At one camp en route I had the good luck to kill two more turkeys at one shot with a rifle, and this time I did not even see the second turkey when I fired my “Officers’ Model, Springfield Rifle” which I had bought from the Ordnance Department. We also bagged some quail, which our cook Briscoe prepared for us in a very appetizing manner. We went into camp on the Nueces River about mid- day on the third day, and amused ourselves shooting till the arrival of Briscoe and the escort wagon. Col. Shafter said, “Put a hole in that cactus leaf and we will shoot at the hole.” We soon spoiled the cactus leaf, making a bigger hole and several more. Finally the Colonel said, “Now watch me cut off that twig,” pointing at a bright, slender and very straight twig some ten or fifteen yards distant. He fired and cut off the twig, clean. “Now, what will you do? ” he asked, as he handed me the rifle. I replied, “ My shot is not so hard to make as yours was, for the twig is bigger where I have to aim.” And I, too, cut off the twig, six inches lower down. Shafter looked around camp for another target, and saw a half grown hog rooting up the ground in camp. “See me cut off that pig’s tail,” he said, and taking careful aim he fired, and the pig ran away, squealing and with tail hanging by a thread of skin. Then we 8 4 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY stopped shooting, not wishing to spoil a good record. The wagon arrived in time for the men to see the latter part of our shooting. We soon had a good square meal, but had to remain in camp until after a drizzling rain had stopped. About 3 o’clock we went hunting in different directions. I killed all I saw to shoot at. I was standing in a good place to avoid rain water dropping from the leaves, and I saw my second ocelot coming stealthily along, almost towards me. My first ocelot, killed on my previous visit to the Nueces River, with Hatfield, had run out of a hollow log, or tree, when I shot a “coon,” but this one came along in comparatively open ground and did not see me till I raised my rifle to my shoulder. One shot was sufficient. Now, here’s what happened in our camp while Colonel Shafter and I were absent. The soldier teamster was cleaning his rifle after the rain, talking as he worked, and proud of his own skill with the rifle. Dr. Harmer lay on his bed in easy hearing, and many months afterwards he told me the following story. The teamster finally grew boastful about his shoot- ing. Talking to Briscoe he said, “The Colonel and the young lieutenant, they musn’t think that nobody kin shoot but them. I kin cut off a hog’s tail, too, you see if I don’t. Jes look at that shoat there, and watch its tail drap.” And the teamster took, as he thought, a good aim and fired. The poor hog fell, and began crawling off with a broken hip, and making a loud noise squealing. The teamster was very much frightened, and ran after the hog, yelling, “Now stop that squealing, the Colonel will hear you, stop it, I tell you. I’ll kill you A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 85 if you don’t.” And with an ax he killed the hog, and dragging it out into the bushes he buried the victim of his poor shooting, and then begged Dr. Harmer to say nothing about the matter. The Doctor kept his promise till after the departure of Col. Shafter, six months later, when he was promoted to Colonel of the 1st Infantry. We had several days’ good hunting on that outing, bagging 8 or 10 turkeys, some ducks and quail, and then we returned to the post. Col. Shafter had his own ideas about the adminis- tration of a post and always showed an intimate knowledge of what was going on. One day I marched on as Officer of the Day, and reported to him for orders. We were standing on the portico of the old building then used as the Commanding Officer’s Office, facing towards the Rio Grande. The Colonel pointed to some piles of mesquite cord wood, and to some soldiers standing and sitting near the cord wood, and said, “Don’t disturb those men, they are gambling, and don’t allow any civilians to join the game or even to look on.” He added other instructions relative to keeping good order among the men. I carried out his instructions, and I have many times given my own Officer of the Day similar orders and always with good results. During that winter I killed my first deer, and in doing so I took a mean, sneaking advantage of the poor thing. Lieut. Henry Wygant had recently joined from Fort Ringgold where he had killed a number of deer, and he frequently requested me to go with him hunting, claiming that he had a method of calling up a buck to within easy range. His plan was as follows: 86 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The time being then late in November, or early in December, the deer were running, or mating, and Wygant claimed that by hiding in a good place and rattling together a pair of good antlers he could imitate the sounds made by two bucks fighting and trying to break each other’s horns, and that a buck hearing the noise would come closer to investigate in the belief that two other bucks were fighting over a doe, and that he could easily steal the doe while the others were busy. Wygant said that he had a good pair of antlers, and was very anxious to prove to me that he was not in jest. So, one day we mounted two old horses from the Quartermaster’s corral, and rode seven or eight miles out into the country away from the river, and we made many unsuccessful attempts to deceive the wary buck into coming after his doe. There were plenty of deer there, for we saw quite a number, but apparently bucks were scarce, and it seemed as if Wygant would not be able to illustrate his easy way of getting a shot at a buck. Finally we found a beautiful spot where we could hide ourselves and rattle the antlers, and while Wygant made the noise I watched for our buck, and to my great astonishment one came and gave me an easy shot with my good rifle. I had no buck fever, and one shot was enough. Leaving Wygant to draw the dead deer I went back about a mile and a half for our horses which we had left tied to a tree. On my way back to where I had left Wygant I heard five or six shots fired in rapid succession, and I increased my speed, fearing that my comrade had been attacked by Indians. I found him standing by another dead deer. After finishing with my deer Wygant began to A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 87 while away the time by rattling the antlers again, and not being able to keep a good look out at the same time, he was almost run over by a big buck, and had several good shots at the animal, which was hard to convince that no doe was there. These two bucks were as large as any white tail deer I ever saw, and we had no way to tie them to our old quartermaster’s saddles, and this made us ride back to the post and return the next day for our game. We undoubtedly had good luck that time, for I have many times since then tried to call up a buck by rat- tling antlers, and always with no success. The neces- sary combination seems to be; the right time of day, the right time of the year, a good hiding place, a buck within hearing, and then rattle the antlers correctly. It is now forbidden by law to use the antlers as described and for the purposes explained. In addition to being a good game shot I was always greatly interested in target practice, and in April, 1878, I was sent to San Antonio with the company and troop representatives from Forts Clark and Duncan to report them to Capt. Livermore, of the Engineers, for partic- ipation in the first Department Rifle Competition ever held in Texas. I had to go to Fort Clark for the best shots there, taking with me those from Duncan, and being furnished with a horse to ride I was very comfortable, and enjoyed the trip very much, espe- cially because it gave me an opportunity to make a short visit to my home at Independence, Texas. At that time the Department Headquarters were located in the building now called “The Maverick Hotel,” and Fort San Houston was just begun. In returning alone to my post, horseback, I stopped the first night at Castroville, and went to old Tarde’s 88 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY hotel. The old man had been a soldier with Marshal Soult in Spain, and in addition he provided an excellent table, and was especially noted for his fine venison. I enjoyed very much the old man’s stories, and I learned that what I had heard of Tarde’s venison was true. That night I received a telegram from Col. Shafter directing me to return to Fort Duncan direct, and not by way of Fort Clark. It was lucky for me that Jim Riddle, the biggest merchant in Eagle Pass, arrived at Tarde’s the same night I did, en route for his home, for it enabled me to camp with him each night on the road, and he also fed me and my horse the entire trip. I enjoyed very much my ride back to Fort Duncan, thanks to Mr. Riddle. Conditions on the border sometimes gave us some disagreeable duties to perform. While our orders forbade us to join a posse comitatus, or to comply with appeals for assistance made by state and city authori- ties, unless each time ordered by the President, we sometimes made big bluffs in the interest of law and order. In the spring of 1879 I was sent towards the Nueces River with a detachment of Troop “E” 4th Cavalry, accompanied by a deputy sheriff named A1 Roberts, and guided by a former Army Officer, with orders from my post commander to protect the peace officer in the proper discharge of his duty. In case of any trouble it is hard to see how I could escape laying my- self liable to civil suit, but I went, and did my best. We started late in the afternoon, and while march- ing across country, following no road or trail, we were caught in a heavy rain storm, and night coming on we lost a pack mule and had to stop and go into camp immediately, all of us wet and hungry. The ex-army A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 89 officer had a bottle of mescal, a liquor made by Mexi- cans from the fermented and distilled juice of the maguey plant, and a strong drink of it made us warm and kept us from catching cold. The next morning we caught our pack mule and continued straight across country, and at just about the right time and place to go into camp we saw a deer not far from a good camp site. I put my men in camp, borrowed a carbine and went after the deer. In those days our bacon was very fat, and I did not like it, and that made me especially desirous of getting some game for our mess. We messed with the detachment, which made the soldiers wish for my good luck. My deer was very restless and kept moving about, making it hard for me to get close enough to shoot it. While crawling along on my hands and knees, with a carbine in my right hand, I was about to put the muzzle of the gun on a large rattlesnake which was coiled up and looking at me in utter silence, making no motion except with his tongue which he moved very fast. The snake’s head was several inches above the coil and within striking distance of me. I quickly straightened myself to a kneeling position, located the snake with reference to other objects and went on after my deer. I soon got a shot, aimed carefully at the heart and broke the animal’s neck, a poor but very lucky shot. I then went for the rattler, and easily killed it. As soon as I fired my one shot I heard a regular school boy call from camp. From the sound I knew that I was asked “What luck?” and I hastened to give the answering call which meant, ‘‘All right.” No word was spoken, no spoken word 90 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY could have been heard at such a distance, but two soldiers immediately came running from camp. The men skinned the snake and found in it a small rabbit, and that accounted for the reptile’s being so quiet and peaceful. The venison was fine, and was highly appreciated by all. The next day we continued our march after out- laws whom the deputy sheriff had warrants to arrest. In one cf our efforts to catch somebody we sneaked around through the bushes and quickly surrounded a small cabin. We found within that little house nine women, and not a single man! So, on we went, being now in search of a man named Woods. He, too, was not at home, and finally, having made unsuccessful search and effort to catch each man we were sent to protect the sheriff in arrest- ing, we started home. At our first camp en route to Fort Duncan our man Woods joined us, and said that he had heard that we wanted him, and that he had no objection to going with us. During our two or three days on the road home I saw a great deal of the young man, for we made a companion of him and not a prisoner, while en route. He was one of the most attractive young desperados that I ever saw, being very handsome and strongly built, besides being very bright and cheerful in conversation, and fearless with it all. In addition, I learned that he was the man that I had seen that night at Mike Wippf’s saloon, sitting on the right of the other man and with his revolver on his right hip, ready for quick action. We took him to Eagle Pass, and there the Deputy Sheriff, A1 Roberts, took charge of him and put him in jail. Then Roberts went to the hospital, with small pox. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 91 I had been sleeping with him for several nights, on account of cool weather and his lack of bedding, but I had seen so much of small pox on the Rio Grande that I was not uneasy. In the very beginning of my service I took a firm stand regarding the use of alcoholic stimilant and cards in gambling. While at West Point I was under a written pledge which I gave my mother before leav- ing home, all without one word from her. After arriving at my first station I was soon invited to take a social glass, also to take a hand at the game of poker. Having made up my mind, and feeling sure that I was right, I had no difficulty in politely declin- ing to do either, and it did not take long for my comrades to understand that it was useless to suggest to me either kind of amusement and dissipation. Even when I was promoted to first lieutenant, and when I was frequently asked if I wasn’t going to “wet” my bar, I unhesitatingly answered, “No.” When an old captain thought that a strange line of conduct I bought him a bottle of whiskey to drink for me, and I furnished a first lieutenant with a bottle of wine for the same purpose. Even when foreign officers came along it made no difference with me. One day, in Piedras Negras, a Mexican officer didn’t like it one bit that I wouldn’t drink a glass with him. It was only claret, but it contained alcohol. I have always applauded myself for my attitude regarding drink and gambling, and I have noticed that my sobriety, and freedom from cards, . were soon my best recommendations, and I have always thought better of a young officer who would not drink or gamble. 92 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I was promoted to 1st Lieutenant on the 20th of March, 1879, to fill a vacancy in Company “C,” at Fort Ringgold, Texas, made by the transfer of Johnnie Clem to the Quartermaster’s Department. While I served at Fort Duncan much of the time, I was company commander, was out with the cavalry several times, and commanded a troop for a month or more. I had also been given very valuable experience as Judge Advocate of General Courts Martial. I was in Mexico with Mackenzie, had served under Shafter, and all told, I considered then, and I have not changed my mind about it, that dur- ing my service at Duncan I had received very valuable instruction. Early in 1879, and before either Shafter or I had been promoted and sent away from Duncan, the Adjutancy of the 24th Infantry being made vacant by the death of Helenus Dodt, he told me that in spite of my short service he would appoint me to that office but for the fact that by doing so he would keep the senior second lieutenant out of his promotion. Under the old order of things a second lieutenant, while filling a vacancy as regimental adjutant diminished by one the number of first lieutenants allowed a regiment. It was unjust to create such a condition, but it was done in some regiments. While serving at Duncan I met many Mexican officers, and the wives of some of them. I don’t believe that they were as much married as we were. We and our wives were invited to dances given by Mexican officers, and we invited the Mexican officers and their wives to our dances. Mexican men were slow to learn our way of dancing, but their girls were quick enough, and became very fond of American A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 93 waltzes and two steps. On both sides of the river we frequently danced the Mexican “danza.” We never see the “danza” danced now, on our side of the river. Our relations with each other, both personal and official, were friendly and cordial, and there were then no raids to disturb us and interrupt such relations, even our expedition into Mexico apparently being forgotten in a week. We had very few soldiers along the border, yet, for a great many years no Mexican dared to cross it in hostility, and in the interior of Mexico our people were treated very kindly. Evidently the Mexicans had a very whole- some respect for our flag and our people, and this condition, which did not contemplate any prepared- ness to resist a sudden attack on our bank of the river, lasted until about 1910 or 1911, when our people were given, by our President, to understand that they could come out of Mexico if they didn’t like it there. The following incidents will show a condition then, which does not exist now. One day Lieutenant W. H. W. James, 24th Infantry and I went across the river at the old ferry, using his buggy, and we drove inland several miles to a small pond that we knew of. He carried a shot gun, and I took along my good rifle. On arriving at the edge of the water I saw a big panther about 75 yards away, but having to dismount because of the horse being skittish, I was too late and thus lost my only chance to kill a panther. That same day I killed several ducks with my rifle, and I would not have missed a big animal. We were in our uniforms, and no notice was taken of us. Among the Mexicans that I knew while stationed at Duncan by far the most important was General 94 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Geronimo Trevino, a high up major general in their army. One day I carried him a letter from Col. Shatter, and while I was talking with Trevino in his office a Mexican entered the room and informed him that an old captive Indian woman had just killed her- self out in the “patio.” We went out to see and we found in the square yard in the middle of the house, where captives were kept, a poor, wretched looking old woman lying on the ground and dying from a wound inflicted with the rustiest and bluntest looking knife imaginable. Lots of patient and persistent shoving must have been required, to make that old blade enter the body. General Trevino was cordiality itself, then and on other occasions when I have seen him. General Trevino was at that time in command of all the northeastern part of Mexico, but, according to rumor, he should have been President of Mexico soon after. It is said that during the campaign which resulted in the downfall and execution of Maximillian the three prominent Mexican generals, Porfirio Diaz, Gonzalez and Trevino agreed among themselves that they would alternate in being president of Mexico, leaving out of the bargain Escobedo, who was as big as either of them. According to the agreement it should be Diaz first, then Gonzalez, and Trevino last. And so it worked out, except that when the term of Gonzalez was nearly completed Diaz stepped in and resumed his reign. It was a dirty trick. On another occasion, Lieutenant Donovan, 24th Inf., and I rode across the river at Eagle Pass and went on to the village of Villita, on the Riito (Little town, on Little River), and stopping at what appeared A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 95 to be a small hotel we asked for something to eat, it being then about mid-day. We were invited in and were given places at the table, and plenty of food was put before us, but no one had a knife, not even the Mexicans who were already seated. We began our meal. I noticed that the Mexicans were folding their tortillas (thin corn cakes) so as to serve the purpose of both fork and spoon, and I proceeded to do as the Mexicans did. I did not intend to ask for a knife, but Donovan did, and when he did so each Mexican at that table, quickly handed him a knife, from his belt or from his pocket. Donovan accepted a knife from some one, and we finished our meal in the utmost cordialty. En route home, after dinner, I rode a horse race with a Mexican boy, although I was riding Chaplain Laverty’s horse. When I told him how I had won the race he seemed greatly pleased. CHAPTER IV My promotion to first lieutenant was dated April 21, 1879, and in the latter part of July I was started down the river to my new station, Fort Ringgold, Texas, but before beginning that march I will tell an incident which happened on one of my trips to the Nueces, the time I was out with Hatfield. On our road back, I was off by myself hunting, and saw a rattlesnake about four feet long. That was long enough for me to want his rattles, so I started after him and tried to catch him before he could reach a prairie dog hole towards which he was running. I had my six shooter, but I didn’t want to waste a shot at a snake, and as the snake was nearly in the hole I caught the end of his tail and stopped him. The snake pulled and I pulled; we both pulled hard, and for a short while neither of us made any progress. At last the rattlesnake let go his hold suddenly, and the hard pulling and sudden loosening caused me to fall back on the ground, on my back, without at first letting go the snake’s tail. But, my wits worked fast, and as I fell back, straightening out on the ground, with stiff arm I threw that big rattler at least thirty yards to my rear, and again I went after him. But, I had no longer any objection to using my six 96 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 97 shooter, and I hastened to do it. Now, that snake didn’t make that hole, neither did he live in it with rabbits and prairie dogs and small owls, as I have read, somewhere. The prairie dog digs the hole and lives in it till a rattlesnake takes a liking for the hole. Then the pnzrie dog leaves, if he has time, and sometimes he ge^s even with the rattlesnake by quickly filling in the mouth of the hole, thus burying the snake alive. I have been told by Comanche Indians that this burying alive sometimes happens, and I have seen several prairie dog holes that had been filled in by the paws of small animals. I am also certain that the little owl does not live with the prairie dog, never having seen an owl living in any but some old abandoned hole. But, I have seen the cotton tail rabbit run into a fresh looking prairie dog hole which appeared to be still inhabited by its builder. Perhaps the rabbit was merely seeking a temporary hiding place. In my change of station to Fort Ringgold I had an ambulance and an escort wagon, also a hospital steward and about a dozen recruits for Forts McIntosh and Ringgold. The steward was very anxious that I should take along, among the medical supplies, a bottle of whiskey for snake bites and other forms of sickness. Although he appeared to be in great need of another drink, I didn’t get any for our trip. He got well without it. We went down the old military road, and arrived at Fort McIntosh on July 3rd. The next day, with some other young officers and with some girls from the post and the town of Laredo we danced from about 3 o’clock p.m. till midnight, down in the shade 98 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY close to the river, using a tarpaulin stretched over the ground as a floor. So far as I know, our dance made no one sick. I hunted several times from my camping place on the road to Ringgold, but my luck was bad. How- ever, on one occasion, my men had some delicious fresh meat for me, and they said it was deer. I doubted it, but the meat tasted so well that I did not investigate the matter. I found Ringgold the hottest place I had ever seen, up to date, but we managed to exist and to enjoy ourselves. There I saw my first ice cream on the Rio Grande. It was fine. My classmate, A. A. Augur, was second lieutenant of my new company (“C”), but he was most of the time Post Quartermaster, and a fine one. After the first six months my commanding officer was Col. “Beau” Neill, who had been commandant of cadets my last two years at West Point. From Fort Ringgold I took my first leave of absence, and was gone three months, going via San Antonio and my home, Independence, Texas. The trip to the first named place was by stage, and was 300 miles long. I had for a companion on the stage Lieut. George Albee, then recently retired from the 24th Infantry. After leaving active service Albee obtained employ- ment with the Winchester Small Arms Company, and had risen to high position in it, and he was then travelling for the Company, visiting the various frontier posts. He was a very interesting man. I stopped over 24 hours at Fort McIntosh to see again Lieut. Chas. Dodge, 24th Infantry, and in this way I broke my long stage ride. I stayed a few days at home with my family, and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 99 my old friends, and then I went on to Washington, putting up at the Ebbit House where I saw many old friends and made some new ones. That winter was long remembered in Washington because of the lively times caused by so many young army and navy officers. I was there five weeks, and found there my classmates Barry, Patch, Mann, and Eggleston, also Pitcher, Buttler, Evans and Cherry, of previous classes. There were lots of others, and we had a fine time, no one having a more enjoyable time than I did. A young officer’s first leave of absence is very apt to be his most enjoyable one. He will never again have so great a capacity for enjoyment. I enjoyed myself all the more because of being there for no other pur- pose, which was not the case with most of the others. While in Washington I saw my captain for the first time. He treated me with great consideration and kindness. He afterwards rose to high rank and distinction, being Adjutant General of the Army during the Spanish War. I always liked Henry C. Corbin. I also enjoyed very much being again with my old roommate Patch, who had lost one foot in the Indian Territory while serving in the 4th Cavalry. He pleased his regimental commander, Ranald S. Mackenzie, so much that he was appointed regimental quartermaster and held the position till 1890 when examinations for promotion put him on the retired list. Patch must have been a fine officer to have made such an impression on Mackenzie, and his sons have been travelling the same road. I returned to my post March 19, 1880, via San Antonio, and again I took that long stage ride, start- ing out from San Antonio in a cold rain and sleet. I was glad to arrive at Fort Ringgold. 100 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY From my quarters I often heard, early in the morning, in the spring, the call of the chadklaca, the Mexican pheasant, which was plentiful on the Mexi- can side of the Rio Grande but quite scarce on our side. I never saw one in wild state. Although I saw no chacklaca on my hunts from Fort Ringgold I killed quite a number of ducks with my rifle, and one day I had a real test of the accuracy of the gun. While concealed close to a pond, waiting for ducks, I saw a jacksnipe near the water and only about 20 or 25 yards away. No other game was in sight, and I remembered that the wife of Capt. J. N. Morgan, 24th Inf. with whom I was messing, was convalescent from a long spell of sickness. I took careful aim at the snipe’s head and nearly cut it off with my cal. 45, officers rifle. Mrs. Morgan was very grateful. This hunting rifle of mine, called the “Officers Model of the Springfield Rifle,” had a short round barrel, a peep sight, and a hair trigger. After much practice I discarded both hair trigger and peep sight. It was the most accurate shooting rifle I ever fired, and with it I did some fine shooting. On one occasion at Fort Ringgold we wanted chicken for dinner and they persisted in hiding under our very old quarters in that part of the post then called “Poker Flat.” I crawled under the house and with great patience I followed and watched the chickens until I got two to put their heads in a straight line from me. I got them both at one shot, without injuring the bodies of either. The Mexican town of Camargo was several miles from the river, but the Rio Grande rose to such a height in the spring of 1880 as to reach the outskirts of the town. From the bluff on our side of the river A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 101 at the ferry we saw several people on the top of the shanty on the opposite bank, the water having driven them from the inside of the house. Camargo was very much run down, and the business of the place must have been very small. I found nothing that I wanted except a watermelon, which I bought and ate. At the beginning of the Mexican War it was a very important place; General Zachary Taylor started out from there for Monterey, in 1846. While at Ringgold I commanded my company (“ C ”) the entire time. One day two of my men were brought to me, charged with fighting. John Hardy, the larger of the two, had his right hand wrapped up in a handkerchief. After examining it and noticing that the wound was such as might have been made by the teeth of a man biting in good earnest between thumb and forefinger I asked Hardy what caused it. The rascal answered, without moving a muscle or changing expression in the slightest, “Dog bit me, Sir.” The other colored soldier (Blakemore) rolled his eyes a little, showing that he well understood what Hardy intended to call him, and he realized that Hardy had gotten even with him. Being by this time well known for my interest in target practice I was again given the task of preparing the competitors at my post for the next department rifle competition. At that time most of us used at long-range firing a back position called “The Texas Grip,” the rifle resting on the right shoulder of a man lying on his back, butt plate being held steady by the left hand under the back of the head, and trigger pulled by a steady pressure of the thumb and forefinger of the right hand, thumb on the trigger. The gun-sling 102 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY was well lengthened and left leg passed through it, the legs crossed with left leg on top, the rifle stock on the right side of the head. It was a good position for target range shooting on smooth and level ground, but not for battle conditions. This back position inter- fered with firing from concealment, and it was believed, for that and other reasons, that a man would prefer firing from a prone position in actual battle. How- ever, the various back positions held their own for some years. Before abandoning them we had gotten to using a spirit level to assist in getting the piece perfectly level. The heat at Ringgold was very great and sultry, and the outside world there offered very little that was interesting, except that the hunting was good when one had the energy to go out and look for the game. On June 1, 1880, the battalion of the 24th Infantry started up the Rio Grande under orders to change station by marching, and we were to be badly scat- tered on completion of the movement. Our Major commanded us, and although he had served in the Civil War and had been brevetted, he seemed to know very little about marching, as we soon learned, to our sorrow. We started as late as 7 o’clock on that June morning, and we were escorted out of the post by the 8th Cavalry Band which w^as mounted, and of course they gave us a good lively quick step which was not a very good one to keep up during a long march on such a hot day. The Major rode in front, as did his second in com- mand, Capt. Lewis Johnson, and the Acting Adjutant and Quartermaster, Lieut. H. L. Ripley, rode also. These officers were very properly mounted, under the regulations. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 103 My company was the third, in order of marching. We marched too fast from the very beginning, our halts were too short, and consequently when we made one of the regulation ten minute halts at the inevitable nine mile water hole the men immediately filled them- selves with warm water and lay down in the shade, feeling hot, weak, and sick at the stomach. I did it, so I knew very well how they felt. Soon I heard the Major call for the orderly trumpeter. I knew what that meant, and I hastened to where our commanding officer was, and I said, “Colonel, won’t you please allow us to rest in this shade a little longer. The men have filled themselves with water, and now they feel sick. I know it, for I have done it, too. With a few minutes’ longer rest we will all get up and march on, but if you order the assembly now about half of your command will remain under these shade trees.” His only reply was, “We must be at Roma by mid- day. Orderly, sound the assembly.” My prophecy was fully proven by the results. At least half the enlisted men remained lying down in the shade of the trees, and two miles further on I had my fill too, and selecting the shadiest mesquite tree in sight I dropped out of ranks and laid myself down under that tree, and did my best to faint and thus escape the awful heat and the pain of it, but without success. I counted the men as they marched past. I saw only one man of my own company, but there may have been more, for the four companies were very much mixed up, in that column of two’s. The strong- est men were at the front. In half an hour Lieut. Leavell came back, mounted, and wanted me to take his horse, which of course I 104 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY refused to do. In less than an hour I got up and moved on, and along the road I saw several colored soldiers apparently insensible from heat and fatigue. I am sure that one was insensible, for I saw him fall to the ground, his head landing among the thorns of a palm leaf cactus bush without awaking him. On the third day my company led the column. I marched at the head of the company, by the side of my fat First Sergeant, who joined the cavalry when dis- charged at the end of that enlistment. I deliberately chose a gait which all could keep up, notwithstanding many impatient looks to the rear from our battalion commander. I was fully rewarded by the result, for no one had to fall out that I heard of. While marching in the awful heat of the sun and along a sandy road I heard a long legged soldier, a former railroad hand, say, “Now here! Don’t you see? We ain’t gwine to have no break-downs today. This ain’t no lightning express, drappin’ us all along the road. No, Sir! It’s a good old ’commodation train, and it’s gwine to take us all in to camp.” Pri- vate John Hardy was a worthless soldier, but I forgave him much because of his correct appreciation of my intention that day. We camped one night in such a good place that I could not resist the desire to go out and hunt after eat- ing a good meal on arrival in camp. Deer were plentiful and I did some very poor shooting, and next morning, instead of marching with the troops I went again to the same good hunting ground, taking Lieut. Leavell and his horse with me. I killed a big deer and put it on the horse and then we followed the battalion, afoot. It was a long day’s walk, but I felt repaid for the hard work. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 105 We rested one day at Fort McIntosh, another at Fort Clark where I ate too much marshmallow candy, and then we started on a long march via Del Rio to Pena Colorada and Fort Stockton. Lewis Johnson went with his company to Fort Concho, via Fort McKavett. We found Devil’s River a beautiful stream, and full of fish which our men caught with their hands, and with their bayonets tied to long poles, using the same to spear the fish. Our marches were sometimes very dry. One stretch of dry road was forty miles long, but we had provided ourselves with a water wagon at Fort Clark, and we camped just half way, thus dividing the distance into two marches. We were using the road which had been made by the labor of troops, and some places showed great work and considerable engineering skill. The crossing of the Pecos River was the best piece of road engineering that we saw. The water of that river where we crossed about five miles above its mouth was very brackish, but Lieut. Bullis, who knew the country well, had told us of a fine fresh water spring near the river water’s edge and close to the ford on the right bank. We enjoyed that spring of good fresh water very much. Along the road we saw in several places specimens of Indian painting with soft red and yellow stones. The drawings usually represented Indians and buffaloes and sometimes an Indian killing a white man. On July 6th we arrived at Pena Colorada, about 50 miles from Fort Stockton and 65 from Fort Davis, and my company relieved at Pefia Colorada a company of the 25th Infantry commanded by Capt. Andrew Geddes. We found there several soldier-made mud and stone 106 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY huts, roofed with mud and grass and the rainy season was just beginning. We repaired and completed those buildings the best we could. The south side of the hills and mountains there had a growth of scrub cedar, and in one place I saw some good scrub oak. Pena Colorada was about ten miles from the present railroad station of Marathon, on the Southern Pacific route. Antelope could be seen at any time of the day from a low hill half a mile from our little huts. The men were housed in two long narrow huts, facing two others in which Lieut. Augur and I lived. The officers’ quarters were of one room each. W T e roofed over the four walls of a structure of stone on the third side of the square, and used it as a storehouse. We found some straight rations there, and a few extras, and about the time of our arrival there came into the mountain gap hah a mile below a small herd of stock cattle. From the owner of that herd we bought in open market all the fine beef we needed, and I never tasted better beef in my life. I never felt so well and strong at any other time of my life. The rains soon came, including a big hail storm which provided us with some buckets full of ice, to our satisfaction. Because of the high altitude and the frequent showers the weather was very pleasant. We inherited from our predecessors a Mexican guide, Jose Tafolla, and he had two ponies and one saddle. It was not long before Jose and I were riding about, looking for game, but I soon learned that he was too much inclined to stay close to our little post. A week or two after our arrival a body of mounted men came up the road, our road from the southeast. Capt. Livermore, of the Engineers, was triangulating that Big Bend country, and he had with him Lieut. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 107 Pullman and his troop of the 8th Cavalry, also Lieut. Shunk with Bullis’s Seminole Negro Indian Scouts. Some of the supplies at Pena Colorada were intended for that expedition, but Livermore concluded to move on to Fort Davis and take part in the active campaign then going on against the Mescalero Apaches of Victoria, and his departure gave us great satisfaction, because of the scarcity of rations and the great distance to the nearest post where we could get more. Livermore left with us a box containing a saddle and bridle, belonging to some absent officer, and he told us of having left a lame cavalry horse at Meyer’s Spring, about 28 miles below. The horse was described as having been hurt by the sharp points of the lechuguilla plant sticking him just above the foot. In about ten days I took Jose and his two ponies, and using the saddle and bridle left with us by Livermore we went to Meyer’s Spring for the aban- doned cavalry horse, and we found him, apparently as glad as we were to find him. From that time on I had a good mount, the new horse being soon in good condition, and proving to be an excellent riding animal, and gentle enough to carry the deer which I soon succeeded in killing. We had a number of successful hunts. From my mud palace I would point out to Jose a mountain peak ten or fifteen miles away and tell him that we would go there the next day. “Bueno,” was his only reply. The next morning we would ride to the spot pointed out, select a good camping place and then we would have a fine hunt. We always took with us something to eat, and we made our coffee in our tin cups, and usually cooked some fresh meat. After my decision to go too far to return the same day we always found and brought 108 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY home either deer or antelope, and sometimes both. We also saw lots of bear signs, and one of our men saw one up in the bluffs near where we went for some cottonwood poles. One day, while following a big deer up and over the mountain bluff I found a very large boulder which had just been turned over, and the fresh soil uncovered had been scratched up for food, worms I suppose. There was no house on the “Military Road” as far back as San Felipe del Rio, and I was much surprised one day to see a solitary horseman ride into our camp all the way from San Antonio. He was a contractor to furnish fuel and hay at my little post, also at va- rious other larger posts. His name was well known in San Antonio and at many Army posts as that of a family of contractors. He came to look for wood in our vicinity suitable for fuel. The contract called for “hard wood.” I had a tent put up for the man, and I made him comfortable in every manner possible under the circumstances. I took him out to where there was plenty of good oak for fuel, and showed him the open prairie to haul it over, and I gave him to understand that we would insist on the supply of such oak for our fuel under his contract. I was greatly surprised some time after to learn that some Mexicans were cutting down some cedar timber close to the road to Fort Davis and a little farther away than the oak woods which I had shown to the contractor. Both Augur and I were determined that we would accept no cedar on that contract. I think it possible that we were somewhat in- fluenced to such determination by the man’s descrip- tion of his methods in submitting bids for contracts. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 109 He said that his two brothers and he would always bid for the same contract, separately but close enough to avoid most bids between, and the lowest bid being as low as would allow any good profit. If no bid came between their lowest and next lowest bids their lowest bid was withdrawn and the forfeit paid to the Govern- ment, and the same was done with the middle bid if no other came between it and the highest of the three bids. That cold blooded treatment of the Govern- ment irritated my Quartermaster and myself, and we determined that we would make him at least furnish the kind of wood called for in the contract, and I therefore carefully showed him such wood. r >i ft ,n nvHx ,tr> begin bringing in his cedar fuel on a contract which called for “hard wood,” our successors arrived, marching up that same good military road, and that same night the wood contractor brought in the first instalment of his cedar. I carefully explained to Col. Shafter and the officer of his regiment (1st Infantry) that he was going to leave there to be commanding officer, all about our wood contract and the vicinity of good oak wood to fill it with, and I thought that I had settled it all right. But, • Horny - ‘BjgBaaiy supplied my successors with cedar fuel. 1st Lieut. Frank Edmunds, 1st Infantry, accom- panied us on our march to Fort Davis which we began the next morning. On the way I had an opportunity to see if antelope would come up to every red hand- kerchief waved at them from the end of a stick by a man well concealed. I was well hidden, and my red handkerchief was on my ramrod, and the animals were two hundred yards away, when I gave the signal. When I looked up from behind my bush after waiting While we waited, not very patiently, for 110 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY long enough, the antelope were half a mile distant, running fast. On arriving at Fort Davis I turned over to Lieut. Edmunds the cavalry horse which I had recovered, our regiment being then in expectation of a change of station. The Indian campaign against Victoria and his Apaches was then going on and it had added some little spice to our life at Pena Colorada. One day in the mountains, I found a recently killed pony, evidently left there by some stragglers from Victoria’s band of Apaches who were then being hunted and chased on both sides of the Rio Grande. That was my nearest approach to participation in an Indian cam- paign, which I could never figure out as entitling me to the right to wear a campaign badge for it. While at Pena Colorada I discovered that a deer can travel far, and die out of sight, after receiving a mortal wound. I stood beside my third deer one day, looked back at Jose who was following with our horses, and quite exultingly I said to him, “Otro venado, no?” (Another deer, isn’t it?) At the sound of my voice my wounded deer sprang up from the ground and ran away, for my next and succeeding shots missed him, and we watched the animal go straight away into the broad valley, towards camp and in sight of us for at least two miles. We followed and had little difficulty in finding the dead body, already cold and stiff. Since leaving Pena Colorada I have often smiled to hear some one tell confidently how easily he could distinguish deer meat from that of antelope, when cooked. My doubt as to one’s ability to do that was derived from the following experience. At our little post there were three in our officers’ A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 111 mess; Contract Surgeon Duvall, Lieut. Augur and myself, and we had for our cook Pvt. Calvin Ewing of Company “C,” 24th Infantry. On two separate and different occasions we members of the mess disputed as to what kind of meat we then had before us on the table, knowing that we had at that instant deer, antelope and fine young beef available. On both occasions we appealed to the cook to decide for us, and both times, with wide grin on his face he said, “Beef, Sir.” Neither of us had guessed beef on either occasion. However, our meat was always cooked in the same manner, and showed no difference in appearance. One night our guide Jose went down to the mountain gap to see some other Mexicans who were stopping there for the night. The next morning he was laid up, sick, with one arm out of socket at the shoulder. Dr. Duvall laid Jose flat on his back, had me pull hard on one arm while he pulled at the other. The arm popped back into place with an audible snap, and my guide was well again, with his shoulder a trifle sore for a day or two. I have always regretted staying at Pena Colorada so short a time, because of the abundance of big game within close reach. Deer and antelope we had found out how to get by staying out all night and hunting practically two days, and we would soon have had plenty of bear meat also. I have never since then had such good opportunity to kill the game mentioned. We had been there only nine or ten weeks when Col. Shafter (my former commanding officer) came along with a part of his 1st Infantry and relieved us. Then, accompanied by Lieut. Frank Edmunds, Quarter- master 1st Inf., we marched to Fort Davis, leaving 112 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY our mud huts about the middle of September, 1880. On the way to Davis we saw some more evidence of good road building by the Army. At Fort Davis we found the Headquarters and several companies of the 24th Infantry, also the empty barracks of several troops of the 10th Cavalry, the troopers being then in the field chasing Victoria and his Mescalero Apaches. My colored classmate, Lieut. H. O. Flipper, was with those absentees in the field. I did not see him. Augur and I took our meals at the officers’ mess which we found running, and at which we ate with the Commanding Officer, Major N. B. McLoughlin, 10th Cavalry. The Post Quartermaster and one or two other officers also messed there. Old Napoleon Bonaparte McLoughlin was a fine soldier of the old type. He told me that he used to carry his double barrel shot gun in an attack on an Indian camp, especially if a night attack. I have always remembered that. Service at Fort Davis w r as quiet for us of the in- fantry, not hard, and it was very pleasant. The climate in that part of Texas, like that of Arizona and New Mexico, is the healthiest I have ever experienced. The air is very dry, and the year is divided into two distinct seasons, and only two, the dry and the moderately wet, the rainy season being short, and the altitude that of several thousand feet, and the com- bination produced a most enjoyable temperature all the year round. The post was located at the foot of some high bluffs, from which, in old times, Indians sometimes fired at the garrison. In going to Fort Davis we had used one of the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 113 canyon roads, and in leaving we used the other, both fine specimens of soldier work in road making. Musquiz and Limpia were the names of the two canyons. While at Davis I had been twice taken out for a short duck hunt by the fine old officer who com- manded the post, an excellent officer of the old time practical soldier type, very punctilious, careful, polite, conscientious in the discharge of every duty and very efficient. He had been a captain in the 4th Cavalry under Mackenzie, and was said to have been the only officer in that regiment who did not stand in the greatest awe of his colonel. A story which I had already heard told by officers of the 4th Cavalry should, if true, indicate that McLoughlin was not afraid of his colonel. Here’s the story. On one of Mackenzie’s many scouts that officer was gazing heavenwards one night, while walking back and forth in front of his tent, or perhaps his roll of bed- ding, and snapping his fingers as he walked, as was his custom when not feeling very amiable. Now and then he would stop and look in a certain direction. Having noticed Mackenzie do this several times Capt. McLoughlin asked, “What are you looking at, General?” “Nothing much,” was Mackenzie’s reply, “I was only looking for that star, I don’t see it tonight.” “General, you can’t see that star now, there’s Miles between you and the star.” No other officer in the regiment would have dared to inform Mackenzie that his rival Miles would beat him to a brigadier general’s star, but McLoughlin told the truth. We did not see Livermore and his command at 114 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Fort Davis, for, instead of continuing his work of triangulating the “big bend” country, Capt. Liver- more hurried on from that post to join in the chase after Victoria and his Apaches. In those days an officer of engineers rarely had command of a troop of cavalry and a company of Indian Scouts, and Livermore apparently could not resist the temptation to play at real soldiering. Fort Davis was about 450 miles from San Antonio, the nearest railroad station, and all military stores and almost everything else had to be hauled from the railroad by wagons, big trains of big wagons driven by Mexicans to whom time was no object, and who, therefore, from preference chose the long road via Forts McKavett, Concho and Stockton rather than travel the straight military road which we used on our march from Fort Clark. At Davis I served my last tour on a Receiving Board, for I can remember none after leaving that post. Sometime in November, 1880, we started marching again, this time to Fort Sill, Indian Territory, now Oklahoma. Regimental Headquarters and the com- panies of the 24th Infantry which we had found at Fort Davis had already gone, excepting one, “B.” The two companies of us, under the command of Capt. J. B. Nixon, made the 75 miles to Fort Stockton in five days’ easy marching. It only toughened us up and made after marching easy. We picked up a third company at Stockton, commanded by Lieut. Ripley, and from there we made the 160 miles to Fort Concho in eight days. Capt. Keyes with his tired troop of the 10th Cavalry was returning from chasing Victoria’s Apaches, and we made camp at the same place every night. However, Keyes’ horses were in A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 115 poor condition because of their hard field work, and while we improved in strength and in marching ability from day to day, the animals got weaker, and several were abandoned on the road. We felt good and strong, marching in that cool temperature, wearing our blue overcoats, and we made daily twenty miles with increasing ability to do it the next day. This long march gave me another opportunity to observe the colored soldier in the field. Having pitched camp after the day’s march, and having completed their regular camp duties, it was not long before they would have the biggest camp fire that the wood allowance would allow, and before this fire they would dry their clothing if we had been marching in the rain, and then they would hardly wait for the next meal before they would begin to sing and dance, showing a cheerful disposition, fine physical condition and satis- faction with things generally. With colored troops well handled it is impossible not to take to them kindly. They need from their officers more personal care and attention than white soldiers do, but they repay many times all that is done for them. At Fort Concho, just outside of San Angelo, located between the forks of the two Concho Rivers, we had to stop two or three weeks. Why it was we had no idea, but during that delay, according to my opinion, — there occurred the sequel to our march into Mexico in June, 1878. During our stay at Concho General E. O. C. Ord was retired. He had reached the age of 62, thus giving the President the power to retire him, willing or not. I believe that General Ord was made the scapegoat of Mackenzie’s expedition in 1878, and that his retire- ment was intended to smooth over our mistake at 116 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY that time. It also created the vacancy which verified old McLoughlin’s prediction about the star. Nelson A. Miles was promoted to fill the vacancy made by Ord’s retirement. Late in December we got started on our march again, and we found the terminus of the railroad at Eastland, Texas, and there we took the train for Gainsville, Texas. We camped right in Eastland, then a very young place indeed, and we bought our water for drinking purposes by the barrel, that necessity being a commodity sold on the street. While in camp there I noticed that Corporal John Ware was gradually becoming drunk. He belonged to Capt. Nixon’s company (“B”). Our train pulled out late in the afternoon. I marched on as Officer of the Day, and it was not long before my Sergeant of the Guard came to tell me that Corp. W T are was raising a disturbance in the Company “B” coach. Capt. Nixon and the officers had the sleeping car, or a part of it. I directed the Sergeant of the Guard to go back and tell Corp. Ware that he had better behave himself, and that if he did not do so he would promptly get himself into trouble. Pretty soon the Sergeant returned and said to me, “Sir, Officer of the Day, Corporal John Ware, Sir, he’s behaving awful bad, he’s calling the rest of us bad names, and he won’t shut up.” The Commanding Officer showing that he was going to allow me to handle the case all by myself I ordered the Sergeant to go back and tell Corp. Ware that if he did not immediately behave himself the Officer of the Day would come to see him. But the Sergeant of the Guard continued. “Sir, Officer of the Day, he’s raising an awful row, calling A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 117 the other men slaves, and sons of slaves, and bragging about his never having been a slave. It is bad, Sir, and mighty hard on the men.” Being a Southerner I quickly understood what was the matter, and what might happen unless that old time free negro’s tongue were promptly silenced. I knew that even as late as 1880 there was no deadlier cause for a terrible fight between negroes than for one who had never been a slave to taunt his fellow negro with having been a slave, or the son of a slave. I immediately went to the car where Corp. Ware was. When I arrived he was really very quiet, but the men in that car were all wide awake and very much excited, being very angry and plainly showing it. I said quietly and in a low tone, “ Corporal, you are going to be quiet now. I am going to remain here a while, and if you say five words in the next half hour I will buck and gag you, corporal or no corporal,” and I pulled out my watch as I spoke to him. “Yes, Sir,” he said, and not at all defiantly. “You have said two words, Corporal, and you have only three more to say,” and I looked at my watch. For perhaps seven minutes there was absolute silence in that car, and the men were greatly excited. Then the Corporal said a few words, and I knew that I had been defied, and that I must do something, and be quick about it. “That’s enough, Corporal, I am going to buck and gag you now,” I said very quietly, and I looked around to find a suitable man to assist me, and to really do the work. A dozen men seemed very desir- ous of helping me, among them a man who had recently quarreled with Ware, which fact I remem- bered then. 118 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY But I saw big Sergeant Grayson close by, and I said to him, “Get something to do it with, Sergeant.” I then had the Corporal sit down on the floor. I found a cord to tie Ware’s hands with, and they were put so as to embrace his own knees, and were held in place by his own rifle, placed under his knees and over his elbows. A short iron rod about eight inches long and three fourths of an inch in diameter was found in the wood box, and it was put in Ware’s mouth, pressed back towards his ears and held in place by the two ends being tied together with my handkerchief. Sergeant Grayson did it all without assistance from anyone, and without resistance from Ware, while it seemed that every man in the car wanted to help us. The desire to assist was so evident in the case of Pri- vate Voll Hopkins that I had to speak to him sharply. I now went back to Capt. Nixon and told him what I had done, and then I went to bed. Next morning the Captain, a very kind hearted man, told me that after waiting about two hours he was sure that Ware had enough, so he went back to see him, and then he had Ware released from his cramped position. The Captain said that everything in that car was absolutely quiet, and that Ware was as meek as a lamb. I have always been glad that the Captain had Ware released, but I have also been pleased with myself for my method of handling him. At Gainsville we left the train and the railroad, and then we marched towards Fort Sill. I was again Officer of the Day when we arrived at Red River, at the very same spot where, nearly ten years before, I had crossed the river with cattle, en route to Kansas. This time the weather was very different. It was A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 119 about January 29th, and very cold, so cold that it stopped snowing just before we reached the river, and it was a very thin snow at that. Our wagon transportation was very poor. It was composed of two horse wagons hired, or contracted for, and not in good condition. The river was about one hundred yards wide and nowhere more than knee deep. The men were made to get on the freight wagons, the Red Cross ambulance and the Daugherty wagon, and the light vehicles were sent back and forth, thus saving the men from getting wet. No one was allowed to wade across. This consumed more than an hour, and while we were waiting for the last wagon to cross, the water had frozen before our very eyes, and at the last the wagons were travelling a beaten track, with ice above and below, but still very thin. A soldier called my attention to my ears, which he said were frozen, telling me that they were very white, but I could not believe it, not feeling any pain at that time. But, I had, shortly before, noticed the intense cold. My overcoat cape had been made removable during my service in southern Texas, and I had lost it, much to my discomfort on that winter march. After crossing the river we made a halt and went into camp close to the big bluff, which gave us excel- lent shelter from the cold north wind. Then I learned that the soldier was right concerning my ears, and I hastened to look for snow to use on them, but finding too little to be of any benefit I broke up some of the thin ice and did my best with that. That night some of our men went across the river on the ice to where liquor was obtainable, and I believe that some of them broke through the ice en route. 120 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Next morning there were some 25 or 30 men with frost bitten fingers, toes, or ears. My ears puffed up big at first, but did not pain much. For several days I kept them well wrapt up. In several days more we arrived at Fort Sill. On the road we met a company of the 16th Infantry, then leaving that post, and we laughed to see the company commander, a young lieutenant, riding in the Daugh- erty wagon. But he might have been sick, or recovering from recent illness. We were feeling so strong from our long marching that we could see no good reason why a man should not prefer to walk in such weather. We really preferred it on that cold march. At some camp between Gainsville and Fort Sill Capt. Nixon had Corporal Ware come to his tent and apologize most humbly to me, and promise to behave better in the future. The Captain asked me if that was sufficient. I replied that I was satisfied, and that I was through with the Corporal the morning after he was bucked and gagged. I have never doubted, that by promptly handling the case exactly as I did on the train, I had prevented a very serious disturbance and some bloodshed, for those colored comrades of the Corporal would otherwise have taken the matter into their own hands with violence. My method of quiet- ing the man was the best under the circumstances, as was proven at the time and on the spot, but I would not advise it as something to be practiced lightly and without feeling very sure. Fort Sill was, at the time of our arrival, a very interesting and important post. The Comanches and Kiowas lived all around us, and were frequent visitors, and sometimes other Indians came too. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 121 There were, after our arrival, four companies of the 24th Infantry and two troops of the 4th Cavalry at the post, under Lieut. Col. J. K. Mizner, 4th Cav. I was at Fort Sill only about two months that time, but that was long enough for me to form a liking for the place. I saw the Indian Agency at Anadarko, and I had a taste of the good hunting south of the post. I was relieved from the command of my company by the arrival of my captain, B. M. Custer, who had previously been quartermaster of the 24th Infantry. I still lived in the same set of quarters with my class- mate, A. A. Augur, now promoted out of the company. He found his captain at Fort Sill, too. It was A. C. Markley. About that time there was organized the Depart- ment of the Arkansas, and Mackenzie was the department commander. I received an autograph letter from him informing me that I was to go to Fort Elliott, Texas, for temporary duty as adjutant, quar- termaster, commissary, etc., etc., but that it would not be for long. The order came very soon afterwards, and I felt very proud that I had been so remembered by Mackenzie, for whom I always retained the warm- est admiration. The distance was about 140 miles, and the road was nearly straight across to Fort Elliott, being used chiefly by the horseback mail carriers once a week, as a part of the old and notorious “Star Route” system which was then in use and which a few years after- wards was investigated by Congress and brought some prominent men to the penitentiary. The road led through the country occupied by the Kiowa Indians, north of the Wichita Mountains. I was given a small escort, an escort wagon and a 122 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Daugherty wagon, and the trip was a very pleasant one, the road passing through a country which was still well stocked with game. I had no shot gun, but with my “Officers Rifle” I killed a number of turkeys and prairie chickens en route, and I carried them to Fort Elliott where I distributed them, thereby making my arrival welcome. The post was named for a major of the 7th Cavalry who had been killed in an Indian fight in that neigh- borhood several years before, and the post commander that I found there was the fine officer and pleasant gentleman, Lieut. Col. J. P. Hatch, 4th Cavalry. He made my numerous duties very agreeable to me, but I did not have him long, he being soon promoted and sent to the 2nd Cavalry, after which the post had several post commanders, including myself. The garrison was composed of one company of the 24th Infantry (“G”) commanded by its Second Lieutenant, Chas. Dodge, Jr., and one troop of the 4th Cavalry, the same troop that I had served with in the field on the lower Rio Grande under Hatfield. Officers w r ere very scarce at Fort Elliott, and as a consequence I commanded at the same time the troop and at another time the company, in addition to my various regular duties as staff officer and sometimes in addition to those of post commander. Game was very plentiful in that vicinity, and I enjoyed the hunting very much. I soon became the possessor of a fine shot gun of English make, a Scott double barrel, 12 gauge. It happened in this way. Capt. Clarence Ewen, the post surgeon, was relieved and he raffled off his shot gun for $80, at $5 a chance, at the post trader’s establishment. I did not at first take a chance, being absent, but I entered the room where A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 123 the raffling was going on and learned that only five throws had been made, and that in throwing the dice two men had made 42, which is very high, and hard to make. One of the owners of these two lucky throws said that he would sell his chance for $15, which I promptly accepted and paid him for. The raffling continued, but no one else made as high as 42. Then the bartender, who had in throwing the dice for an absent man made the other 42, offered to sell me the chance for $30, buy my chance for $30, or throw the dice for the gun. I had no faith in my own luck, or ability to throw the dice so I quickly paid him $30, and thus became the owner of a good $100 shot gun and a supply of ammunition, all for $45. I never regretted that deal. The gun was all that it looked to be, and with it and my “Officers rifle” I was ready for any kind of game, and the mess that I be- longed to was always glad to have me in it. There was then at Fort Elliott one of the old time scouts and Indian fighters who had seen good service on the plains a few years before, having been in the fight at the “Adobe Walls.” His name was Bill Dixon, and he was a fine specimen physically, and a good hunter and scout, but he was sometimes inclined to drink too much for his own good. About September 20, 1881, I took him with me in the Daugherty wagon on a short hunting trip, north- west of the post, towards the Canadian River about 30 miles away. The first night I killed a turkey, next day Dixon killed two deer, and on the morning after we started home, a very short hunt. Soon after leaving camp we bagged several ducks at a pond near the road, and a few miles further on I got an antelope. About the middle of the day we saw two antelopes 124 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY some 600 yards away, grazing. We got out of our wagon and crawled on our hands and knees to within 300 yards of them when they took alarm, and one ran away quite a distance and stopped, both facing us and giving no good mark to shoot at. We remained absolutely motionless for what seemed a long time, waiting for a better target. Pretty soon the more distant antelope came trotting back to the other, and then we got ready to shoot. I said to Dixon, “You take the one running up, and I’ll shoot at the other one. I’ll give the word this time.” (He had given the word when we fired at the turkeys on the roost the first night out.) At my word we fired together, and my antelope dropped, badly wounded, and Dixon’s antelope began running around mine and not going far from it. We kept up a slow fire at the unwounded animal, doing our best shooting. Each had fired several shots when I distinctly heard, immediately following one of my shots, a sound like that made by a small shot falling on paper, and then I knew that I had hit the second antelope too, and I promptly called, “I hit, I heard it strike.” That sound can be heard any day on the target range. The antelope ran off slowly, at a trot. We followed and found both of them, each having only one bullet hole. I gave the word for firing together because when we were under the turkey roost the first night out Dixon gave the word, and I did not like his way of giving it, although I had killed a turkey then and Dixon got none. We resumed our travel homewards, and we saw, in a series of ponds about ten miles from Fort Elliott, lots of ducks. In an hour or two we had about thirty A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 125 of them, and then we moved on, but we had not gone far before we saw something else to shoot at. We got eight or ten fine plover. It required a bit of ingenuity to find a way to carry all our game in that Daugherty wagon. We had to sling several animals under the wagon in cut gunny sacks and a rawhide which was always carried in that position, for what other purpose I know not. On another occasion we went southward into Greer Country for a several days’ hunt, and this time my classmate Wilder, of the 4th Cavalry was along. Our hunt was a very successful one in spite of the fact that I failed to kill a single turkey out of eight that I shot at in the night while they were on their roosts. When I found my ninth turkey I called another man to come and shoot it. I had my good shot gun, but I had not then learned to point it in the dark when not able to see the sight. John P. Hatch being promoted, and the 4th Cavalry troop leaving soon afterwards, we had Capt. Michael Cooney and his troop of the 9th Cavalry with us. My classmate “Daisy” Day was the second lieutenant of Cooney’s troop. I had heard so much of Capt. Cooney’s eccentrici- ties that I was constantly on the watch to see some- thing resembling what I had heard of him. I was doomed to disappointment. I found him to be a very careful, exceedingly proper and most punctilious, and withal a very efficient officer and a most agreeable gentleman. In those days the only cultivated land in the vicinity of Fort Elliott was a small piece of irrigated ground a few miles from the post. Mobeetie was the name of the town just outside of the reservation. The 126 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY North Fork of Red River was six or eight miles to the south of us, and sometimes I went there, hunting. On one occasion I took my rifle, thinking that I might see a deer, or perhaps an antelope. Finding no big game I began to hunt ducks, and by crawling up to within 80 yards of at least 200 big red headed ducks, very densely bunched together in shallow water, I killed or mortally wounded at one shot four of them. I was on a dead level with the flock, and could not see through it at one place, and right there I aimed. My bullet could not have passed through the flock at that spot without hitting several. I had only to get the correct elevation, and I must have done it. On another occasion, and in that same locality I saw approaching me on a narrow path, four small animals walking abreast, with heads close together. Soon I discovered that they were skunks, or “prairie queens,” as they were called in the Panhandle, and I gave them the path. I had my shot gun this time, and I took position some 20 yards from the path and waited for the line of skunks to get opposite to me, so as to give me an opportunity to hit all of them at one shot. When the line arrived exactly where I wanted it I fired. Four skunks struggled in death agony, and any one acquainted with that animal can guess what sort of an odor went up from them with the spray which I saw them emit. I found that I was too close, so I moved off a little. Those skunks and one rattlesnake constituted my entire game bag that day. While serving at Fort Elliott I often observed a prisoner dragging a ball and chain. He was a very tall, powerful, finely formed colored soldier of the 24th Infantry who had claimed on arrival at the post A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 127 that one of his knees was stiff from rheumatism. The man’s company had shortly before marched down from Dodge City, Kansas in very cold weather. The soldier’s ailment would not respond to treatment for rheumatism at the post hospital, and the symp- toms, as given by the patient, did not satisfy the Post Surgeon. The soldier, Pvt. Maulby, walked day after day with a stiff leg, and the surgeon was greatly puzzled. Finally he decided to take the man into the hospital where the patient could be better looked after and watched. It did not take the surgeon long to be convinced that the big fellow was malingering, and to verify his belief he had the man put under the influence of chloroform for a few minutes. It required the strength of several men to hold Maulby while the chloroform was being administered, and just as he regained consciousness out went that leg, stiff as a poker, but too late. While unconscious the man’s two legs were the same, not the slightest difference between them. The soldier was then confined in the guard house, and charges for malingering were preferred against him. But the leg continued stiff, and the man becoming unruly he was put under ball and chain, and he walked about in that condition with leg just as stiff as ever. I was a member of the General Court Martial which tried and convicted him of malingering, and Maulby was sent to the Military Prison, at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. For months he carried a stiff leg, even with ball and chain, and had shown wonderful endurance and fortitude. Lieut. Dodge, his company com- mander, was somewhat conscience smitten and ill at ease when the big fellow had to go to Fort Leaven- worth. But, a few weeks later Dodge went up to 128 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Fort Leavenworth on a short visit, and soon he wrote me a letter expressing great satisfaction. He told me of a visit to the military prison and of seeing his giant of a cripple ( !) walking about as well as any man, and said that the big negro actually gave him a pro- nounced wink as he passed by, close to him. Private Maulby was not the only soldier who has exhibited wonderful nerve, persistence, intelligence and fortitude while endeavoring to fraudulently obtain a discharge on Surgeon’s Certificate of Disability. In October, 1881, I was preparing for a hunt up on the headwaters of the Red River, near the fine ranches of Mr. Adair, who had as his foreman at that time Charles Goodnight. Goodnight now owns, I believe, one of those ranches. He was one of the strong characters with which our country has been blessed on the frontier, and was an excellent business man, doing well for his employer and for himself. Just as I was almost ready to start on my hunt for the few remaining buffaloes of the huge south herd which I saw in 1871 heavy rains came and gave plenty of water on the plains, too far away to follow the buffalo. That was my last opportunity to hunt the buffalo. Forts Sill and Elliott, in those days, were located in good game country, and hunting was comparatively easy. Near Fort Sill, in the Wichita Mountains, were said to be seven elks, but we never hunted them in hope that they would soon increase in number, if undisturbed. We lost out, for others did hunt them, and the animals disappeared before the rifles of the Kickapoo Indians. We had, near both places, ante- lope, deer, turkeys, and other fine game birds in abundance. After about nine months’ service at Fort Elliott I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 129 was ordered to the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas, located near Bryan, there to serve as Commandant of Cadets. I had known of the va- cancy there, but I did not want it, and did not know of anyone trying to get it for me, but I believe that a Doctor Lewis, then living at Mobeetie, was partly responsible for my detail. About the end of December, 1881, I took the stage for Dodge City, Kansas, 190 miles away, there to take the cars for Kansas City and Texas. The stage ride was an awfully cold one. I stopped half an hour at Fort Supply, then Regimental Headquarters, 24th Infantry. I also stopped a day or two in Mobile and New Orleans with relatives. I arrived at College Station early in January, 1882, and promptly assumed my new duties, messing with several bachelor pro- fessors in the cadet mess, and rooming in one of the houses set aside for professors. John G. James, previously in charge of a military school at Austin, was President. He was also a graduate from the V. M. I. second only to West Point in many respects. CHAPTER V I have considered my two years at the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas as most valuable experience, well worth the long stage ride in very cold weather. I was the second regular Army officer to be detailed there, the first having been Capt. “Pomp” Olmstead, “U. S. Army.” At the College I heard many interesting stories, showing that my predecessor had not been very strict, and I found the Professor of Philosophy, a former graduate of the V. M. I. acting as Commandant of Cadets in addition to his other duties. However, the senior cadet captain, Silas Hare, Jr., relieved him of a great part of military work. I found the cadets sadly in need of me, and I promptly went to work and gave the cadets lots of military discipline and instruction in every direction. The faculty was glad enough to allow me all the time I requested, provided it did not interfere with the time allowed them respectively. I began at the beginning, with instruction in the School of the Soldier without arms, and I carried it up to include all battalion exer- cises, also ceremonies. After a while I substituted on Saturday mornings instruction in the use of the old 3- inch muzzle loading field piece, dismounted, in place of the infantry drills, and still later I carefully in- structed in target practice the first two classes, and gave them firing at ranges to include 300 yards. iso A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 131 In addition, I got up the regulations for the Military Department of the College, adapting and changing to suit the new conditions the Academic Regulations then in use at the Military Academy. I gave limited instruction to some members of the senior class in the drill textbook then authorized, also in fencing. This latter instruction in the drill text- book and in fencing was optional, and not many chose the extra work. I used all the time allowed me. My work was very interesting. It was, at the same time, very instructive and beneficial to me, and the record and career of the Military Department of the College show that my time, care and labor were well spent. The cadets were eager to learn. At first they showed that they felt very keenly their ignorance and awkwardness, and that made them work the harder and improve the faster, and their improvement was very fast and very evident. I encouraged competi- tion between individuals and organizations, and I tried to reward merit, and to punish intentional violation of regulations and bad conduct generally. When a cadet showed that he was inclined to be incorrigible I secured his suspension from the in- stitution for a short time. A suspended cadet rarely returned to duty, and my object was gained without having the stigma of expulsion attached to the boy’s name. It was necessary that discipline should be strict, and promptly administered. On April 1st, 1883 I was sitting in my office early in the morning, with a cadet standing on the opposite side of the table, facing me. We heard shouting out in the field surrounding the buildings, and looking out to ascertain the cause we saw 15 or 20 cadets running about, their actions suggesting to me the chase of a 132 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY swarm of bees, fugitive from their hive. I expressed my wonder at what I saw. The cadet smiled faintly, and said, “It is April the first, Sir.” “Oh, yes, I understand, it’s April Fools’ Day,” I replied. “Yes, Sir,” the cadet said. I looked hard at the cadets running in the field and asked, “Isn’t that Cadet Lieutenant Robert Green in the lead ? ” and the youngster replied, “Yes, Sir.” “And isn’t that big fellow in the middle Cadet First Sergeant Williams?” Again he answered, “Yes, Sir.” “Now, wait a minute,” I said, and I quickly wrote in pencil the rough draft of an order reducing to the ranks both the cadet officers named, and I read the order aloud to the cadet standing before me, and then I continued : “That is my part of this April Fools’ Day celebration. The order will be on the bulletin board in a few minutes, and you are at liberty to say that you saw me write it, and that it goes into effect immediately. Those two cadet officers will return to barracks as privates.” That, and other similar examples of prompt dis- cipline had excellent effect, and I found that the boy thus disciplined seldom retained any grudge against me on account of it. I have heard of only one case of grudge retained, and the name of that boy has been before the public a great deal during the past 10 or 15 years. He was always very bright, and very bold. While working with my brother Tom on a railroad engineering detail he informed Tom that I had not treated him justly. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 133 The cause of that cadet’s ill will may be seen from the following incident which happened some time during the senior year of the class of 1883. One night, ten or fifteen minutes after cadet “call to quarters,” when cadets had no proper business outside of their barracks, I saw pass my quarters, on the “professor’s row,” two cadets of the senior class, both high up commissioned cadet officers. I recognized the two cadets and followed them to their barracks to see what they would tell the cadet sentinel on post. After full and careful investigation I found that the big, bold fellow had given the sentinel a false report, and for that he was reduced to the ranks. I could get no proof that the other cadet had made any report at all to the sentinel, and I could punish him only for failure to do so. It is possible that I did not learn all that actually happened when the two cadets came on that sentinel’s post, and that the big fellow thought that I knew more than I really did know. The other cadet was my guest for a few hours a year or two afterwards, at the Indian Agency, Anardarko, I. T. During this short time he intimated that it was his impression that I had been partial to him when he was a cadet. He being my guest I could only dis- claim any intention to give him more than he had deserved in anything, but I had an idea that he was thinking of the incident described. One night 40 or 50 cadets walked to Bryan to see a circus, being unable to obtain permission to do so. The sentinels in barracks were ordered to record the exact hour of each cadet’s return to barracks, and to submit next morning each the record of his work. All the cadet officers were reduced to the ranks, 134 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY promptly, and the others received demerits. Two cadet captains were among those reduced. The A. & M. College of Texas is one of our best institutions in more than one respect, especially in its military department. Many times it has been designated by Army inspectors as one of those entitled to give the Army a second lieutenant without a book examination. I have always felt great satisfaction in remembering the share I had in bringing up the stand- ard of the institution. I enjoyed very much the society of the professors and their families. During the summer months I went where I pleased, there being at that time no other duty for officers detailed as I was. I spent part of the summers of 1882 and 1883 at the old Hygeia Hotel, Old Point Comfort, Va., just outide of Fort Monroe. It was a most agreeable resort all the year round. At the Hygeia I enjoyed especially the fine soft shell crabs and other delightful eating furnished there, and I became quite an expert in swimming. One day, Odium, a professional swimmer, swam across to Virginia Point and back. He said that his only trouble was with sea nettles, a disagreeable breed of jelly fish with long feelers. Afterwards Odium lost his life in a leap from the Eads Bridge, at St. Louis, Mo. While swimming in front of the hotel one day several of us saved the life of an excursionist from Baltimore, and the fellow did not even ask us our names, or thank us. I spent several days of the summer of 1882 at Lampasas, Texas, where there are some fine springs and good hotels. I left there about July second, or third, and before leaving I saw there, in cages, many A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 135 hundred wild pigeons which had been sent down from Oklahoma for some live bird trap shooting to be held on July 4th. It was said that there were 2000 pigeons thus held, having been caught at night from their roosts in the woods. While I was at Fort Monroe during part of the summer of 1883 I stayed a week or two with my class- mate of 1876 class, in the house which had once been occupied by Jefferson Davis, when a prisoner there. The house was Hamilton Rowan’s quarters in 1883. About the last week in August, or the first week of September, 1883, when returning from my summer vacation, I stopped over for several days in Mobile, Ala., with my good aunt Mrs. Sarah Walker, my mother’s sister. My aunt had a fine, sister Baptist girl she wanted me to see, and I found the young lady very attractive. One day I took the girl out driving, getl ing from the livery stable a large, spirited, dark bay horse. We went down the river, on the shell road, for five or six miles, before turning back. My horse was such a fast traveller that, apparently without effort, he easily passed other horses. Among the vehicles thus passed on our way back was one containing an old farmer looking man and country looking lady, apparently his wife. Their horse was a large, fine looking bay, with ordinary trot not as fast as that of my horse. As we passed that buggy I noticed that the old lady didn’t like it one little bit. She was evidently very indignant. After going less than half a mile I heard a buggy coming up from the rear to pass us, and looking over my shoulder I saw the old farmer and his wife. She was sitting up very straight, with eyes to the front 136 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY and chin raised. Apparently she was saying to her- self, “We’ll show you,” and they did show us that they had an unusually swift buggy horse. But, if I had not held in my horse, the old lady would have stayed behind us. A few minutes later another buggy showed intention of passing us. Two men were in it, and the horse was a large, light colored grey. I noticed that my horse did not like to be passed by that horse, and he showed it plainly by increasing his speed notwithstanding my efforts to allow the other buggy to go ahead. In spite of such efforts of mine, both buggies went faster and faster. After some distance thus travelled I saw the river bank close on our right flank, and a fence close on the other side, and I tried real hard to hold in my horse so as to allow the other buggy to pass us, and my horse simply wouldn’t do it. There we were, neck and neck, with the hubs of our buggy wheels almost touching, the other buggy being on the side next to the river. My horse was the faster trotter and was gaining on the other, but the grey horse then began to run. At that moment I took a look at my companion, and to my surprise she was enjoying immensely that very dangerous drive, showing it plainly by her smile. I wasn’t enjoying it just at that time. After making my best effort to persuade my horse to allow the other buggy to pass us, and seeing that he would not be persuaded by all the force I could bring to bear on him, I tried to make my horse increase his trot so as to pull ahead, and then I saw plainly that the other man was racing with me, for he made his horse run faster. I was very angry at being made to race under such circumstances, but the danger was not lessening, so I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 137 used my whip for the first time, and this made my horse bound ahead at a run and immediately leave the other horse behind. Then, while well ahead of the other buggy and running through the thin piney woods on my good shell road, I saw ahead of me a long freight train which would soon cross my road. On each side of the road were many small excavated places from which the earth had been taken to raise the road bed, thus making it impossible for me to leave the road with my buggy at full speed. Therefore I was compelled to keep up a breakneck speed in order to beat the freight train to the road crossing. I beat the freight train, and gradually bringing my horse under control I drove on in to Mobile. After stopping a few minutes at the resi- dence of my companion I drove to the livery stable and gave up the buggy. While I was paying the bill the man at the desk remarked, “You had a nice race, didn’t you ?” I blurted out, “Yes, I had a race, but how did you know it?” The livery man smiled as he replied, “The boss has just returned, and he told me all about it.” In answer to further questions from me he said that I had been given the fastest horse in the stable, and that the boss had gone out with the next fastest horse, and meeting me out on the road he thought he would give the relative speed of the two animals another test. It was useless to be angry, but I had to tell the man how I didn’t like being forced to race under such conditions. At the commencement exercises of the A. &. M. College the military features were always the most attractive to the visiting people. At both com- 138 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY mencements during my stay there we had all sorts of drills, also target practice. I contributed prizes to the best drilled man, also to the best shot. When I first reported for duty the cadets were ignorant of the first principles of drill, but their improvement had been so rapid that they begged me to arrange a competition with the best drilled militia companies of the state. At that time the Houston Light Guards had the best drilled company in Texas, and soon afterwards that company took first prize from many competing companies of the Southern States. I used to see them drill just prior to going off to compete, and I had to admire their excellent performance. While I was at the A. & M. College my brother Will lost his daughter Golda and came very near losing his only son, who had been named for me. I went to Houston and spent four days nursing the boy, and I believe that my assistance was of great benefit. I was relieved from duty at the college in November, 1883, and I was much surprised to receive from the cadets a nice present as a mark of their esteem and good will. I proceeded to join my station, Fort Sill, via San Antonio, so as to see some of my old com- rades again. As I passed through Austin ex-First Sergeant Williams and young Hedrick followed me to the newly begun State Capitol building which I had gone to look at, and the two youngsters took me driving all over the city, and their good will was very evident. I had had occasion to discipline both of those young men at the college. They showed their good sense, and a fine spirit in their treatment of me at Austin. As soon as I arrived at the Menger Hotel, in San A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 139 Antonio, Robert Green’s father, a prominent judge, called on me, and so did an ex-cadet named Storey, in both cases showing keen appreciation of my efforts to be just and efficient as Commandant of Cadets. All those youngsters showed the proper spirit. Robert Green became one of San Antonio’s finest judges, and one of her best citizens. I do not know what became of the others except that I saw Hedrick in New Orleans in the summer of 1898, as sergeant in the 1st Immunes. While I was in San Antonio I went to see my old friends of the 4th Cavalry, Dorst and his former colonel, at last promoted to brigadier general and at that time commanding the Department of Texas. I went to see Ranald S. Mackenzie as much as his former adjutant, then his aide de camp. I have always retained for Mackenzie a very kind feeling, and great admiration for him both as soldier and gentleman. For years he was our beau ideal of what an officer should be. He was our model. And my feelings for my first cadet captain at West Point, J. H. Dorst, who had been kind to me when I was a plebe, only increased in strength and warmth during our long service as officers. He was a fine officer, and should have become a general. I found General Mackenzie greatly changed in appearance; he had lost flesh and erectness of carriage. Even his head seemed to have lost part of its splendid shape and size. His actions plainly indicated the fate which was fast overtaking him. The Army lost one of its finest representatives when Mackenzie became insane. While in San Antonio I was his guest at dinner once, and I then saw other changes in him. Major Arnold, Ordnance Department, was also a 140 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY guest at the same dinner. Arnold had been his class- mate. Mackenzie was very soon after taken to the insane asylum at St. Elizabeth, New Jersey, in about two weeks, I believe. During the Civil War Mackenzie attracted the attention of General U. S. Grant to a greater extent, and with more approbation than any other officer of his age or rank. He was surely gifted in military talents to a very unusual degree, and Grant only showed his usual insight into character as regarded military ability when he selected so young an officer for his very favorable commendation, in his Memoirs. Mackenzie left a lasting impression on the minds and hearts of a great many officers, especially the young and energetic ones. On reporting for duty at Fort Sill I found that post commanded by Major Guy V. Henry, 9th Cavalry, a most energetic and efficient officer, afterwards a general officer and very deservedly so. He was at that time giving great attention to target practice, and his post had during the previous year won first place, almost entirely due to his restless energy, and great interest in the first duty of a soldier. I fell in command of my company (“C”), and soon had a fine youngster from civil life given me as second lieutenant. Charles Nicoll Clinch was his name, and he was the nephew of Mrs. A. T. Stewart. He had been educated chiefly in England and France, and looked, acted and thought more like an Englishman than like an American. He afterwards transferred to the cavalry, and died from the effects of a carbuncle on his neck while still a second lieutenant and a powerful man. My captain, then absent, was B. M. Custer, who A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 141 had succeeded to the vacancy created by the appoint- ment of Henry C. Corbin as major and assistant ad- jutant general. In his new branch of the service Corbin gained the highest rank then attainable, and he well deserved it. It was queer how the letter C predominal ed to such an extent in the names of the officers of Company “C.” While Corbin was captain I succeeded “Johnnie” Clem as first lieutenant, and a couple of years later Custer took Corbin’s place and Clinch came to us as second lieutenant, an unusual collection of names beginning with C. There were then stationed at Fort Sill four com- panies of the 24th Infantry and two troops of the 9th Cavalry. The post commander who succeeded Henry was not so aggressive, but he, too, was very efficient, and I liked him very much. Major Benteen had been captain in the 7th Cavalry, and had taken a prominent and creditable part in the campaign and battle which culminated in the “Custer Massacre” at the Battle of the Little Big Horn River. He com- manded one of the three detachments into which General Custer divided the 7th Cavalry that day, early in the morning, and his description of what he saw and took part in was very interesting and instructive. For nearly five years I was now stationed at Fort Sill, and of all my post commanders there I liked Benteen best. I was his adjutant, and part of the time a company commander under him, and all the time I felt that I was his trusted officer. Early in 1884 the Post Quartermaster, 2nd Lieut. H. W. Hovey, 24th Infantry, was about to go on leave of absence, and Benteen naturally inquired of me, his 142 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY adjutant, regarding the selection of Hovey’s successor, adding that the 24th Infantry officers were new to him. Promptly I replied, “Augur, Sir. He doesn’t want the job, but he would perform the duties without protest, and would make an excellent quartermaster.” “All right,” said Benteen, “get out the order.” The order was prepared and issued immediately, and the next time I met Augur his face was dark with resentment. “I wish you would mind your own business and let mine alone,” he growled. I replied, “I did, old boy, my commanding officer asked me who should take Hovey’s job, and I told him that you didn’t want it, but that you would really make an excellent quartermaster, although you are the meanest of our lot. I recommended you as the best available man for the place.” I was right. I knew my classmate. The duties of quartermaster under a commanding officer like Benteen suited him exactly. Augur grew to like Benteen as well as I did, and liked his duties under such a commanding officer. I had suggested to Col. Benteen that it would be much better not to give Augur detailed instructions, but to let him figure out how to accomplish results required of him by the commanding officer. That idea pleased both of them. Some time in June, 1884, while I was Benteen’s post adjutant, written instructions came from the depart- ment commander at Fort Leavenworth, to drive out of “Greer County” all intruders. At that time the maps of the state of Texas showed that county as being part of that state, while the United States claimed it as part of the Indian Territory. The land referred to was bounded by the 100th Meridian, Red River and the North Fork of Red River, and now A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 143 contains at least three counties of the state of Oklahoma. At Sill we knew that there were great herds of cattle in Greer County, and we knew of no authority for their being there, but we had no orders to oust them and could not do so without such authority. For several years there had been in Texas much discussion about “nesters” and “cattle barons,” the names being quite descriptive, and the trouble was now to be transferred in some degree to the disputed region called “Greer County.” Finally, definite orders came. A rich and powerful cattle company in Greer County became impatient and jealous of the presence of a few nesters who had presumed to locate themselves in that country and prepare to till the soil. The manager of that great cattle company, one B. B. Grooms, wrote to some high up authority infor- mation regarding the presence of the nesters, and requested their eviction. Evidently he believed that the cattle barons would be allowed to remain in Greer County after the eviction of the nesters, but the Department Commander apparently took a different view of the matter, and his instructions to the Com- manding Officer at Fort Sill were to send a detach- ment under an officer to put out of Greer County all persons found there, but to use only so much force as should be absolutely necessary for such purpose. As I remember the letter it contained the following important addition to the instructions referred to, “But, if any of those people should assert any title, or rational claim of right to be in that country let such case be reported to these headquarters before taking further action.” 144 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY After Benteen had finished reading the letter care- fully he showed it to me and said, “Well, they are your people, those Texans, and you ought to know how to deal with them. You will have to go to Greer County.” I was glad to hear him say that, for at that time Greer County was little visited by troops, and was supposed to be full of game. Captains C. D. Beyer and Patrick Cusack, 9th Cavalry, were then at or near Fort Reno with their troops, and from what was left behind from their two organizations I could get only two sergeants and eight privates. In addition I took two of my Indian scouts, Monowithtequa, a Co- manche, and Santiago, born a Mexican, but a Kiowa from his babyhood, and therefore practically a Kiowa. With these men and the necessary wagon trans- portation I started June 23, 1884, going by the Otter Creek road, passing south of the Wichita Mountains. Crossing the North Fork of Red River near the mouth of Otter Creek we rode over all of Greer County, from one camp to another, and omitting not a single camp or settler that I heard of. Among the first places we visited was a post office on the Texas side of the river, near the mouth of the North Fork. At these camps I told them all the same story; i.e., “that my orders required me to move them out of Greer County, by force, if necessary, but to use only so much force as should be found to be indispensable; that my warning did not call for instant removal, but, that if still found in Greer County several weeks later, force would be used,” and while with each man I would read extracts from my order. If I happened to be at a camp at any time near meal hour I was cordi- ally invited to remain and eat with them, and there A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 145 was no doubt as to the cordiality of the invitation. Sometimes a lonely line rider would try to tempt me to stay and eat with him by saying, “I have some fresh buttermilk, and I know that you haven’t seen any lately.” I always stayed when I heard that. At one place I found a man, named Polly, who had been a hospital steward in the Army, and he was sick in bed from chills and fever. I left with the poor fellow nearly all the quinine I had with me. Of the medical fraternity I had with me not more than a private, and a very little medicine, and I had charge of that. Of course I had medicine to open up the bowels, and other medicine to tighten them up, besides qui- nine, and I remember no other. In riding zig-zag across Greer County several times, visiting all the cow camps and other camps, I found myself at the big bend of the Salt Fork of Red River, where there was a fine spring of good fresh water, and close to that water was the camp of an old nester named Sweet. I had frequently read over my in- structions and had been puzzled over the joker con- tained in it, that about the “right, or title,” and I had been very careful not to use any force, and now I was to realize for the first time how wise I had been. I found Mr. Sweet living in a hole dug into the side of the river bluff. He was glad to see me, indeed they were all glad to see me and hear the news, but his gladness was different, and puzzled me. When I told the old man my orders he promptly exclaimed, “You are the very man I have been looking for these many months. Please take me and put me in jail, and then we’ll take this matter in the courts and settle it.” His speech and manner took my breath away, and made me very cautious. 146 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I replied, “I am not very anxious to put you in jail, for I don’t want to be bothered with that sort of work, but why do you want me to take such action?” “Why, then we’ll settle this land question in the courts,” he said, and, in reply to further questions of mine, he informed me that he had located himself there by virtue of Texas Confederate Land Script, and that other nesters had done likewise ; that the land script was issued at Austin, Texas, to old ex-Confeder- ates for location in Greer County; that Greer County was part of Texas, being so included in the old treaties, etc. At my request for documentary proof he produced a small pamphlet containing the Texas argument for ownership of Greer County, and, showing me the wording of the old treaties, Mr. Sweet again told me of his wish that I would put him in jail and thus get the matter in the courts. I assured him of my desire to assist him in settling the question, but I told him that I would not put him in jail, nor would I now put him south of Red River, because of the reason that he had given me for being where he was. I showed him my letter of instructions, and invited his attention to the joker therein. I requested of him a copy of the pamphlet, which he was glad to give me, and I sent it to my General, C. C. Augur, with a letter telling him about the document, and the claim of Mr. Sweet that Greer County belonged to Texas, and about others besides Sweet being there, located like him on Confederate land script issued at Austin, etc. I recommended to my general, in view of such an honest and bona fide claim of right to be there ad- vanced by those people, that a date might be set a A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 147 month or more later, when if still found in Greer County the necessary force should be used. I also informed my superior officer of my previous care to use no force, and of my intention to use none till I had received further instructions requiring such action. I told Mr. Sweet that my letter would assist him in getting the question settled, and I advised him to patiently await the result. When I visited that cross roads post office on the south side of Red River I took with me my Co- manche scout Monowithtequa, and I noticed the friendly attitude of the border settlers towards the Comanche, and the different sentiments entertained for the Kiowas. I therefore gave my letter to my general to the Comanche, for him to mail at the post office we had visited together, and I explained to him with the assistance of my map where to find me on returning to Greer County. I then resumed my travelling about and warning settlers. The Comanche returned promptly and had no difficulty in finding my new camp. When my warning the settlers was about completed, and I was somewhere in the northern part of the county, a Kiowa scout from Fort Sill came to my camp with a written order directing me to go up the cattle trail which traversed the county, and to give protection to the cattle herds which, report said, were being annoyed by Kiowas living close to the trail, these Indians being to the east and northeast of the North Fork of Red River. In compliance with my order my little command was promptly moved eastward to the trail, and we began making inquiry as to where were the cattle, and the Kiowas, and it was then ascertained that no 148 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY cattle had passed along the trail for several weeks, and that none were then within 50 miles of us, and that the troublesome Kiowas were Big Bow, Lone Wolf and Comaltee, three of the most influential men of the tribe, the last two being of bad reputation for dis- turbance in the past. Hearing of no cattle herds coming up the trail from the south we started northward on it, and soon came to the camp of that well known and shrewd half breed Comanche, Quanah Parker, the son of the captive white girl Cynthiana Parker. I knew Quanah well, and I knew Lone Wolf and Big Bow too, but I had never seen Comaltee. Quanah’s camp was scattered around a fine spring of good, fresh, cool water, free from the taste of alkali and minerals. He had a tiny trench carrying a small stream of fresh water right through his tepee, making a drink of cool water cost him no more than to roll over on the other side and bend his head a little. He told me where to find the different Kiowas previously named. I had no doubt that Quanah too had gotten cattle from the passing herds, but he was much shrewder and more friendly than the Kiowa chiefs and he was always quick to make capital out of his white blood, telling of it in good English. This was the summer of 1884, only two or three years after the Big Tree, Satank and Satanta row at Fort Sill when they tried to kill General Sherman, and the Kiowas had not mellowed much since that trouble, indeed Lone Wolf had been deep in it, and perhaps the others were, too. After going north on the trail to a point beyond the crossing of the North Fork we turned eastward, on the old road from Sill to Fort Elliott which I had A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 149 travelled several years before, and which would lead us, in succession, to the camps of the Kiowa chiefs Big Bow, Lone Wolf and Comaltee. Taking with me the Kiowa scout Santiago, and several troopers including a sergeant, I visited the camps of the Indians referred to, telling them in succession about their meanness, and how Washington wanted them to stop it immedi- ately, and behave themselves. At the first camp I took a fine mule from Big Bow which a Texan with me claimed and showed me the brand of from his book. Big Bow was smooth, and made no special protest, but, next day, or perhaps the same day, a gigantic henchman of his followed us to the camp of Lone Wolf, arriving while I was giving that chief the same kind of a tongue lashing that I had given Big Bow. This big Indian carried a rifle, and wore what had once been a white dress shirt, with back in front, and very dirty. He was a venomous looking fellow, and Lone Wolf looked bad enough. All the same, I didn’t drop one little bit of my tone of com- mand, but completed my business with him and then went on to the camp of Comaltee, and there I per- formed my full duty in similar manner. However, I did not feel perfectly at my ease during this part of my scout to Greer County. I did not have enough men to whip any one of the camps, and there were quite a number of them blocking my way back to my post. I carried a Colt six shooter, and my good shot gun which was loaded with turkey shot. At that time I used No. 1 shot for turkeys. I carefully explained to my colored troopers of the 9th Cavalry that we didn’t want a fight, and that they must watch me all the time we were in the Kiowa camps, especially while I was talking to the Indians. I told them of my 150 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY intention to watch the Kiowas to see that we were not surprised and butchered, assuring my men that I would surely fire the first shot, and that I would get the man that I was talking to in case of any row occurring, but that they must wait absolutely on my actions. Beyond irritating those Kiowas exceedingly there was no trouble, and we continued on our return to the post, and I had the pleasure of learning that my course throughout met with the pleased approval of my com- manding officer, who had been in Custer’s last battle, and had seen much other service including very valu- able Civil War campaigning on both sides of the Mississippi River. Benteen’s war record was a fine one. We had been absent about a month on this trip, and I enjoyed it very much, and, because of my descrip- tion of what I had seen, J. R. Kean, then a contract surgeon, and my second lieutenant, Charles Nicoll Clinch, were both very desirous of returning with me to complete my job of evicting the intruders from Greer County. This I expected to do after returning from the department rifle competition at Fort Leaven- worth which I had been selected to attend, to compete for a place on the team. For that duty I left Fort Sill about August 5th, 1884. Among the competitors gathered at Fort Leaven- worth that year were some of the best shots that ever belonged to any army. Department, Division and Army Rifle Competitions were all held there that year, and Lewis Merrian, Clay, Day, Macomb, Hardin and many others, superb rifle shots, were there, and made that a memorable year in target practice, which duty was at that time being made quite a hobby in our A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 151 Army. It was a good hobby to have, and such a hobby must produce good results in any army. Although I was about the best rifle shot among the officers at Fort Sill, and had only two or three superi- ors among the enlisted men there, I discovered at Fort Leavenworth that I had lots of nerves, hard to control. While shooting from the standing position my knees shook, and shook, and in spite of all that I could do and say, my knees continued to shake, and spoil my scores. I fired well at that competition only from the lying down position, for the reason that in that position I did not shake. I failed by four points to win a place on the Department Team. Before the completion of the Division Competition I was detailed temporarily at the Military Prison, and was on that duty about one month, not wishing to remain any longer because of my expected duty in Greer County, evicting settlers. As a result of my duty at the Military Prison I became convinced that no soldier acquainted with conditions there ever sought confinement in that prison in preference to soldiering, which I had heard was sometimes done. The most telling punishment was solitary confinement on bread and water diet. Two or three days of that seemed enough to tame the most obstinate and stub- born of military convicts. October 1st having been designated as the date when I was to return to Greer County I went back to Fort Sill for that purpose, arriving at Sill September 27th. As I passed through the city of Fort Worth, Texas, I saw at my hotel Governor John Ireland, also Temple Houston, the youngest and a promising son of Sam Houston. The Governor asked me a great many questions about Greer County and my experiences 152 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY there, and my probable orders regarding the eviction of settlers from that region. On reporting my return to Col. Benteen I was told that several days before a telegram had been received from Washington directing him to drop the Greer County business, which order was of course complied with, to the great disappointment of Kean, Clinch and myself, for we anticipated having a beautiful time hunting all over that big county. Clinch left us about a year later, for the purpose of attending the Army School of the Line, at Fort Leavenworth, and he never returned to Uj. He ex- changed with a cavalry officer. While with us he sometimes fell in command of the company. On returning once, from some detached service, I was appealed to by the 1st Sergeant to save the life of the old company dog. This old dog had been picked up by the company, during our march from Fort Davis, and because of his being an excellent ’coon and ’pos- sum dog he was an immense favorite with all the men of the company. At that time the old dog could eat hardly anything solid, and was old, stiff and very ugly, but the men loved him still. Clinch knew nothing of the poor dog’s record, and thought it a very good thing to get rid of the ugly old animal, so he gave orders to have the dog killed, to the great grief of the entire company. I returned just in time. When I inquired if the old dog was still alive the 1st Sergeant explained about the order and he also told me how he had told Lieut. Clinch that the dog belonged to Lieut. Crane in order to save the poor thing’s life. I soon told the whole story to Clinch, and claimed the old dog as mine from that time on, to give him a better status. Clinch enjoyed the entire A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 153 story, and had no more objection to the old company dog. Soldiers are very fond of pets, and dogs can hardly keep out of a soldier camp because of the kind treatment received there. It is not necessary for the soldiers to actually steal a dog: it is really difficult to keep stray dogs out of camp. Lieut. Ripley returned from the Leavenworth school in the summer of 1885, and immediately bought him- self a horse, and his purchase of that animal is worth a description. Ripley had come from old Plymouth Rock itself, and was equal to any of them in a horse trade. From much inquiry he got the idea that Bill Williams of Whiskey Creek, ten miles from Anadarko the Indian Agency, was the man for him to get his horse from, and he was influenced to this opinion by the reputation given Wfllliams by that man’s friends among the cattle and horse men of the territory. They said that Bill Williams would tell the truth, even in selling his own horse. That is a wonderful repu- tation for any man to have, and Ripley rode 35 miles to see such a paragon of a horse dealer. He found the man at his ranch in the Caddo Nation, where that tribe had furnished him with plenty of land for his stock to graze on. Williams promptly informed Lieut. Ripley that he had no horse that would suit an Army officer, saying that he knew what sort of a horse was wanted, and that he had no such horse in his possession. Then Ripley remembered the character given Williams by his friends among the cow and horse men of the territory, and that made him decline to accept such a decision, so he pointed out in succession several good looking horses in the corral and inquired in turn, “Now, what’s the matter with that horse? ’’and was 154 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY told, “Well, now, Lieutenant, you don’t want that claybank horse, he hasn’t been a gelding long, and he is mean, and that bay hasn’t any good points at all, and he can’t stand hard work, etc.” Apparently there was no horse among Bill Williams’s 500 animals which he considered good enough to sell to an Army officer, and Ripley was becoming somewhat discouraged. Finally he discovered a bay of good size and color and general appearance, excepting that he looked drawn and thin and hard worked. Ripley asked, “How about that horse?” Williams quickly and shortly replied, “That’s my horse, he’s not for sale,” but on Ripley’s persisting and inquiring if he would not sell the horse at any price he added, “Well, yes, you can have him, but you will have to pay a big price for him; he’s worth at least $135 gold.” The animal’s good points as described by his owner were; “He’s gentle, I can carry a young calf on him, and he can ’lope a long time.” Ripley quickly pulled out his purse and said, “Here’s your money, I want that horse,” and he thus bought the best mount for an officer that I ever saw. In a few months Ripley had to leave Fort Sill and his new horse, and on Bill Williams’s reputation for truth telling and my faith in Ripley’s ability to correctly gauge human nature and a horse’s good points I bought the horse from him, and rode the animal till I left Sill in June, 1888, for Arizona. That horse, named by my orderly, “Frank,” had a good fast walk, an easy, long, fast trot, and an easy, long, fast and sure gallop, and I found out that he was also very swift and of great endurance. Bill Williams was right in not wishing to sell his favorite horse, Lieut. Ripley was equally right in his effort to buy A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 155 him, and I have never regretted my three years’ ownership of that beautiful, red bay gelding. From June 13th, to 19th, 1885, 1 was absent from my post, being engaged in measuring the wagon road from Fort Sill to Harold, Texas, the new terminus of the nearest railroad. It was thought to be a little nearer than Henrietta. I attached an odometer to both hind wheels of my buckboard, and after much practicing measuring the roads around Sill I was ready to start, intending to take the average of the readings as the true distance. I had, besides the buckboard and the soldier driver of it, an escort wagon and driver, also my old friend Monowithtequa, the Comanche scout. When we reached Red River we found that stream much swollen by recent rains above, and we had to stop and go into camp, not being able to cross. But I was not quite satisfied that I could not cross the river, so I had the Indian strip off his clothing and swim the river with me, and test the depth here and there across the entire breadth of several hundred yards. We succeeded in getting across, but we found that in some places the water was too deep for the wagon, being over our heads. But, next morning, seeing that the river had fallen several feet during the night, I was sure that we could make the passage across, so in we went, the Indian going first, on his pony, travelling at a trot to prevent the animal from sinking in the quicksand. I sat by the side of the buckboard driver to keep him from getting too nervous, and I was justified by the result. The buckboard had to travel at a trot too, in order to avoid sinking in the quicksand, where it was not covered by the water, and when we reached the broad- 156 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY est part of the water it came up to our waists as we sat in our little wagon. My soldier driver was very nervous, and seemed inclined to jump out into the river, but I made him sit still, assuring him that to do so was his only chance for life, and I still believe that I was correct in my esti- mate of the danger. We crossed all right, and measured the road to Harold where we stopped several hours to eat and allow the river time enough to fall a little more, which it did, to my great satisfaction. I returned to my post with the information that Harold was nearer than Henrietta by three or four miles. On that report the new transportation contract was changed to the first named place for the coming fiscal year. In the fall of 1885 Lieut. Augur and I went turkey hunting on Deep Red Creek with an escort of several enlisted men, some of whom were good hunters. It was our practice to select good hunters for such duty, for the benefit of their company. After a very successful hunt we started for home and camped en route on West Cache Creek. About 8 o’clock that night Augur and I were in our tent and our men were still talking around the cook fire when we heard what we took to be a cry of distress from a little girl lost in the woods on the opposite side of the creek, but a con- tinued repetition of the sound caused the men of the 24th Infantry to put their heads close together over the cook fire, and begin all sorts of stories about panthers and wild cats. The call was certainly made by a panther on the opposite side of the creek, and about 50 yards away, and we noted the increasing distance by the increasing faintness of the sound. On another occasion I had heard a panther call, but not A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 157 so close as this one. I never had an opportunity to shoot one except that time when Jimmie James was afraid for me to shoot from his buggy, near Piedras Negras, opposite Eagle Pass, Texas. In November of 1886, about Thanksgiving week, I went on one of our regular hunts for turkeys for the entire garrison, as was then the custom at some fron- tier posts. Capt. A. C. Markley was along, and with him came Major Burton the new inspector and after- wards Inspector General of the Army, appointed from the infantry. Dr. J. R. Kean came, too. He had been commissioned in 1884. For our hunt we went to Beaver Creek, east of Sill and at that time well known for its good turkey hunting, and we found such condi- tion just as described. By that time I had worked up a good scheme or method of aiming at night when the front sight was not visible. Sitting in my room, shot gun in hand, I would point and point at a nail or other mark, raising and lowering the muzzle till I could locate almost perfectly any spot selected for the exercise. After much time spent in this practice I seldom missed a turkey, no matter how dark the night, or how high the roost. For the first 36 hours’ hunting my bag was 17 turkeys and two otters, thus taking off the keen edge of my desire to kill the big birds. Bullis was the only officer of my acquaintance who had killed an otter, and my success in doing so gave me great satisfaction. Another source of satisfaction during that fine hunt was seeing my scout Santiago lost in the woods, and unable to indicate by a big margin the points of the compass. I convinced him only by allowing him to have his way and go in the direction selected by him, 158 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY telling him in advance the true direction by the com- pass. Camp was in one direction, and Beaver Creek was in the opposite direction, and Santiago only smiled with pity when I told him what the compass said. Twice he had his way and failed, and then I used my compass with entire success. Our hunt netted us a bag of about 75 turkeys, and other hunting parties out from the post at the same time brought the aggregate number of turkeys for that Thanksgiving dinner for the entire garrison up to about 225 birds, besides some other game. Other parties had killed more birds than we had. When I had reported at Fort Sill in November, 188^ Major Morse K. Taylor was post surgeon. He was then close to retirement age, but he was not too old to work for the betterment of the enlisted man. He was, at that time, working to get the old bed sack and wooden slats replaced by cotton mattress and iron bed springs. In about a year this was accomplished, and the soldier’s life was greatly improved in comfort. Major Taylor also had the water works put in at Fort Sill, the first I saw at an Army post. He was working, at date of retirement, on something which was intended to minimize the danger of a “soldier heart,” which the Major said was caused by wearing too tight a blouse. CHAPTER VI During all my service at Fort Sill I was closely connected with Horace P. Jones, Indian Interpreter. This rare man was a Missourian by birth, had moved to Texas when a boy, had when scarcely grown moved on to the edge of the frontier in Texas, and was at old Camp Cooper when the news of the Harper’s Ferry incident reached the old 2nd Dragoons. Jones used to say that Major George H. Thomas, afterwards “The Rock of Chickamauga, ” was the most out- spoken defender of Virginia among the officers at Camp Cooper. This is not improbable if we accept the contention of some Southern writers that before fighting had begun the famous general requested of the Governor of Virginia, his native state, a com- mission in her service. I have never read any denial of such statement. When the Civil War began Jones found his way to the Indian Territory, and had been interpreter for the Comanches and Kiowas ever since. He acted as interpreter during General Sherman’s visit to Fort Sill when Satanta and Big Tree gave their trouble and almost caused the death of the General. Although himself extremely plain spoken and truthful, Jones insisted that in interpreting for Indians it was fre- quently necessary to tone down the language of both sides, in order to prevent trouble because of the very plain talking done by the Indians. 159 160 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY He was fond of reading, and took special pleasure in poring over the books of Walter Scott, and he had a most unique and truthful criticism of that great author’s works, which applies to both prose and poetry. Jones would say, “Walter Scott had some considera- tion for a fellow, he doesn’t take you all the way through a great big book, hungry and thirsty. No, Sir, he always gives you something to eat.” Scott’s novels and poetry contain many instances showing the correctness of this strange criticism, made by a strange man. Frequently Jones would come at night to my quarters, get a book and read till he was tired, and then leave the house without having said half a dozen words. Every morning he appeared at the adjutant’s office, accompanied by one or more of his clients, the scouts, usually one from each of the two tribes. Prac- tically all the time that I was at Sill I was in command of the Indian Scouts. At first there were only five, but this number was afterwards doubled, and divided equally between the Comanches and Kiowas. As I was nearly all the time Post Adjutant it was conven- ient to me to have them at the office where old Jones would interpret for them, they using words and signs. The Comanches were not good at sign talk, and they also knew very little of the dialect used by any other tribe, the reason being that their own language was comparatively easy to learn and was therefore well known by the other Indian tribes living in that part of the Territory. This relieved the Comanches from the necessity of learning any other Indian dialect, whether of words or signs. On the other hand the Kiowas were very good at sign talk, also in speaking the Comanche dialect A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 161 their own being very difficult to learn. The men of these two tribes were large, fine specimens, physically, and I never learned to distinguish the features of either tribe from those of the other. By looking at their moccasins, however, I could usually tell a Co- manche from a Kiowa. The Comanche made the plainest sort of a moccasin, while the Kiowa made a very prettily ornamented moccasin. Sometimes I saw a Comanche wearing a Kiowa moccasin. Some people said that the Comanche was more lazy than the Kiowa, and in that manner accounted for such dif- ference in their footwear. Among the Comanche Scouts was one called “Co- manche George, ” a great liar, but a good scout, guide and hunter. To me he insisted that he had seen San Antonio, Texas, three times while on raids in Texas. That was possible, for George was easily 50 years old at that time. In 1886 or 1887 George was scout with Lieut. G. A. Dodd, 3rd Cavalry, out to the north and northwest of Fort Sill, and when the troops returned he hastened to report at the Adjutant’s office next morning with the interpreter, H. P. Jones. George felt that he had offended Lieut. Dodd and he wished to get in the first word; he had killed his pony while on the scout and he was afraid of the consequences. His story, as told by Jones, was this: “Jones, you know my mudder and fader dead, long time dead. Well, maybeso one, two, three nights, all night long my poor mudder and fader, they come and say to me, ‘George, why don’t you send us ponies to ride? We no got pony to ride, heap tired. George, you kill your pony and send him to us, like good son. You get arlother.’” The truth of it was that George had not taken good care of his 162 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY pony and had allowed the poor animal to get very weak and thin, and he killed it in anger at its lack of strength and speed, and then he feared Lieut. Dodd’s telling me about it. Nothing was said of it by Dodd, and I did not punish George for it. The incident made a good story. My father died in February, 1885, necessitating my going home to assist in the settlement of his affairs, so as to relieve our mother. My father died in harness, after three days’ sickness. Pneumonia caused his death, after 22 years’ service as President of Baylor University, and after he had been for a much longer period one of the leading men of the South in church and school matters. He was one of the greatest preachers and educators in the South, and he accom- plished a great deal of good among his people. He wrote a history of the life of Sam Houston. He left a great name in the Baptist Church. Although there were four companies of the 24th Infantry and only two troops of cavalry stationed at Fort Sill, most of the post commanders there during my time were cavalry officers. We had Majors Henry, Benteen, Upham and Purington of the cavalry, and for all of them I was adjutant. The most notice- able characteristic of Major Purington was his in- difference to formality and his great, good common sense. “Long George” was an excellent post com- mander, and his command was always in first class condition, especially as regarded neatness, cleanliness, and efficiency. He was close to his young officers, went hunting with them, beat most of us shooting, and showed consideration where needed, in this respect resembling Benteen very much, all the time requiring close attention to duty. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 163 My infantry post commanders were Major O’Beirne, Lieut. -Col. Pearson, and Captains Lewis Johnson and Clous. Johnson was the best posted officer that I knew in old times, and Clous was so good in his knowledge of military law that he became Judge Advocate General of the Army. Carl Reichmann joined while I was serving at Fort Sill, and so did George Cartwright. They were both excellent officers. Reichmann was born not far from the Rhine, was well educated in Germany, and had the good qualities of his race. I had some very pleasant hunts with each of these young officers. At first Reichmann was very green. Once we went horseback to hunt along West Cache Creek, and stayed out all night, just as we did on other occasions. Reichmann’s horse was a borrowed, or hired animal, and not a very attractive steed, and when we were ready to start home the next morning Reichmann buckled, or cinched the girth strap too loosely, which made the saddle unreliable. In his first dismounting he bore his weight on the stirrup just the same as usual, instead of taking both feet out of the stirrup, and the saddle turned with his approach to the ground, making the horse very nervous. The horse began to shy and pull as Reichmann touched the ground, but the rider had plenty of time to throw the reins over the horse’s head, and thus hold the animal. But Reichmann was a big, powerful man, and he merely hung on to the reins without taking them from over the horse’s neck, and then he braced himself against the horse. The struggle did not last long, and I had to go after the runaway animal on my horse Frank. But, with hunt or other work, Reichmann steadily improved. 164 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY During most of his time at Sill, Reichmann lived next door to me, in our double set of quarters, and we enjoyed more than one of his night lunches prepared from articles he had procured direct from Germany. They were pretty rich, but very appetizing and enjoyable. But, other near neighbors gave Reichmann different occupation. A whole family of skunks lived under his side of the house, and when there was a fight among them they plainly told Reichmann of the trouble. The odor was horrible. So, Reichmann prepared a trap out of a big box and got out his shot gun. I pulled the cord, lifting slightly the box and allowing the little animals space to run out. In this way Reichmann killed several of his tormentors and one or two house cats. But he broke up the nest of skunks under his quarters. This trap was prepared out in the yard, with room for Reichmann to shoot. Cartwright was born in New York state, graduated from West Point, and had most of the best qualities which should be expected from such conditions. The two officers were as different as could be. Reichmann, with his stubborn determination, and close applica- tion to duty, will earn everything in sight. Cart- wright’s bright and promising career was most un- timely cut short by yellow fever in Cuba, in 1899. His death was a great loss to the Army and to the Country. He was a fine man, as well as a splendid officer. Hunting continued good in the vicinity of Fort Sill and my good horse Frank was a source of never ending pleasure and convenience in that connection. Many times I would mount the guard, go to the adjutant’s office, hurry through with the paper work, arrange with Lieut. H. W. Hovey, 24th Infantry, to take my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 165 place at retreat and tatto, then mount my good bay horse and ride off hunting. Sometimes I went as far as ten or twelve miles, and I seldom failed to provide my mess with fresh meat, and Hovey’s too. My horse’s easy gaits and free travelling would carry me quickly to my hunting grounds, and I would some- times remain there until after night fall to hunt turkeys on their roosts. Then, on my road back to the post the first mile or two was covered at a long, free gallop, and the same gait was taken by my horse towards the end of the ride, all without any urging from me. During the summer months we would hunt plover while they stopped to rest with us during the months of July and August. They were so plentiful that within four or five hours with wagon transportation, we could easily bag 20 or 30, and on one occasion Cartwright and I killed 100 and we could easily have killed many more, for the birds continued plentiful and our ammunition was not exhausted. Prairie chickens were sometimes numerous, and ducks were abundant in season, along the creeks and ponds. Deer and antelope were scarce in the vicinity of the post, because of the many Indian camps. In those days Indians rarely hunted birds, and this accounted for the presence of feathered game where deer were scarce. On several occasions I noticed a queer thing about prairie chickens. My first shot with rifle or pistol would frequently fail to kill, or to make the bird fly, and thus I sometimes got two, and even three shots at the same bird, finally killing it. On one occasion the first shot from my revolver, a caliber 44 cowboy Colt, fired from a Dougherty wagon, slightly grazed 166 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the top of the bird’s back, the next shot hit just as lightly the skin under the bird’s breast, and the third was a center shot. The bird was not disabled by either the first or the second shot, and could easily have flown away, instead of which it continued to peck and eat. In the spring of 1886 or 1887 my company (“C”) was at Anadarko, the Indian Agency, to protect the Indian schools there against threatened trouble from the Kiowas. Late in March, or early in April, after some warm weather there came a long, cold spell, and this made the geese and ducks then flying north stop and stay a while with us instead of going on north. For several days I had some good goose hunting, which I had not counted on. At this time the second lieutenant of the company was W. L. Simpson, with whom Clinch had ex- changed, getting the 3rd Cavalry, like Ripley did. Clinch was a fine fellow, in spite of being very English and believing that George Washington had put a stain on his good name by allowing the hanging of Major John Andre. Simpson was quite a horse man and kept up his acquaintance with his old friends. He trained an Indian pony at Anadarko to do all sorts of tricks, and then left for Sill before I did. The pony got away from him while on the road to Sill and came back to his old range near Anadarko. After locating the pony up the Washita River a few miles I went after him with one of my scouts, a Kiowa named Tangkonka, and after quite an interesting experience with the Indians I found and brought back with me the little pony, and then I forw T arded it on to Sill. Finally, after staying at Anadarko till the Kiowas A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 167 had quieted down, and after we had completed our target practice there in the valley of the Washita River, my company was ordered home to Sill. Old Frank Fred, the merchant at Anadarko, made my stay there quite enjoyable by his kind hospitality. Our march home was very easy and pleasant. Five or six miles south of Sill we met several hundred Comanches on their road to the Agency to receive their “Grass Money” for leasing their good lands south of Fort Sill to cattle men. These lands were south of West Cache Creek. The Comanches were dressed in their brightest colors, and they were in their best spirits, and, altogether, they made quite a picturesque appearance as they met us with their long column of buggies, wagons and horses, carrying men, women and children, all gaudily dressed and painted. I had to return their “How John” many times as I met their different outfits. A few miles further on I heard my orderly and my former orderly chatting away as they marched. My orderly was riding my horse Frank, and my former orderly was in ranks, and they were telling each other of good things to eat. I heard the former orderly say, as he marched, “Say, I can tell you something better than that, ” and when the other soldier doubted his ability to do so he continued, “ Big, young, fat ’pos- sum; roast him brown and done, fill his sides with good yam sweet potatoes, slash his face up and down with good country butter,” and here the other colored sol- dier could stand it no longer. He had been interrupting his comrade with “Yaas, Yaas, Yaas, ” but he broke out with “Hush, Hush, child, I falls right off this horse,” and the other man had won. Years after- wards I read in a magazine the main parts of that 168 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY story, with no mention of soldiers, but it could easily have happened elsewhere, also. Still a few miles further and a little rattlesnake was crossing the road right under my feet. I quietly put one heel on the reptile’s body near the head, and then drawing the long hunting knife from my belt I cut off the snake’s head and then its single rattle and a button, put the rattle in my pocket, and then without having said a word I resumed my march at the head of my company, on foot. My men were perfectly silent behind me while I was thus engaged, but as soon as we resumed the march I heard long legged John Hardy remark in a low, hushed tone of voice, “Lord, Lord, did you see that? Nobody but a Hoodoo does that,” and there was silence for a long time, for colored troops. But they soon regained their usual spirits and talkativeness. It is possible that the rattlesnake incident gave me greater prestige with them . In the summer of 1887 I again attended the De- partment Rifle Competition at Fort Leavenworth, this time as second in command of camp and troops, being really in charge of preparation of the firing range, and afterwards running the actual machinery of the firing. At the close of the competition I went with the rifle team to Omaha where the Division Competition took place. My team did not win first place in the competition with the other teams, but we had a nice, instructive time of it. While off on this duty from Sill I met at Fort Leavenworth the new department commander, Gen- eral Wesley Merritt, who was very much interested in my description of Greer County and conditions there, for he had been reading my report submitted on returning from my first expedition into that section. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 169 Judging from his great interest in the matter the question must have arisen to life again, fresh and strong. He promised to remind the War Department of the entire question and press its settlement. The following winter I made application through military channels for the detail in Military Tactics at the U. S. Military Academy, West Point, N. Y., and I wrote a personal letter to General Merritt requesting him to assist me, also a similar letter to Capt. Clous, 24th Infantry, then on duty in Washing- ton, D. C. Clous was afterwards Judge Advocate General of the Army, and a good one, besides being a good friend of mine. My post and regimental com- mander, Lieut. Col. E. P. Pearson, 24th Infantry, disapproved my application because I was at that time the only officer present on duty with my com- pany. But General Merritt wrote me a very kind and cordial letter, and promised me his support, and I was therefore very hopeful of success. In addition, I was sure that Capt. Clous would do all he could to help me. A youngster of the — th Cavalry, then stationed at Fort Sill, learning that I was trying to get the West Point detail in Military Tactics requested me to tell him what means I was using for that purpose, saying that some day he expected to try for it. I frankly told him all that I was doing. Late in March, 1888, instructions came to my post commander to send out a detachment of cavalry and remove intruders from two designated townships, each township being six miles square, and located, one east of Otter Creek and south of the Wichita Mountains, and the other at the southwest corner of Greer County where the 100th Meridian cuts Red 170 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY River. The post commander designated me for that duty and gave me for company the previously men- tioned second lieutenant of the cavalry, also a mounted escort from the same regiment, and an escort wagon. The youngster did not like the meaning of two officers being sent on such a small duty, especially since one of them was an infantryman and his senior, and once or twice on the trip he said that he could not see what he was sent along for, unless it was to act as my wet nurse. I then informed him that the reverse was the case, for the post commander had told me that the young officer was not sufficiently acquainted with conditions in Greer County to justify his sending him there in command. That was exactly what the post commander had given me to understand. We took the same road that I had used in 1884, crossed the North Fork of Red River, and by the compass we struck out across the treeless plain, travelling by my military map, and we did it so truly that we hit the Salt Fork south of and close to the good spring where I had seen Mr. Sweet on my former visit. But, before reaching the North Fork we made a good camp and searched thoroughly the nearer township for intruders, and we looked well without success. During my two or three days’ riding over the township in search of intruders I had several oppor- tunities to test the speed and endurance of my good bay horse, also his intelligence and willingness to run. One morning I was out with my Comanche Scout Monowithtequa when we suddenly scared a bob- tailed wild cat out of the grass and I killed it with my shot gun loaded with turkey shot. The race was a very short one in which the Comanche joined with great zest and skill. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 171 The same afternoon I took the same man with me, and while riding along a treeless watercourse a big turkey gobbler ran and flew along the dry creek bed ahead of us. There being no underbrush to conceal the big bird I promptly took after him on Frank, and I then learned that my horse so loved to run that he would chase a flying object the same as a running one. It was the first week in April and the bird was very fat, and for that reason his running and flying soon exhausted him, and I rode up close and shot him after not more than half a mile’s chase. However, much of the race was up a long slant of a hill, which made running more fatiguing for the bird than for the horse. The next day I had scout Santiago with me and I had another turkey chase, but this time the ground was rough and broken, easy for the turkey to fly over, and it offered good concealment. After flying over a high creek bank the turkey apparently had only prairie to cross, but when I arrived on top of that bluff I saw a ravine about 200 yards in front of me and when I reached it I was in doubt as to which end of the ravine the turkey took, so I followed the wrong end, and thus lost sight of the bird for good. Before going to camp, and while crossing a broad, open and almost level plain we saw, about 400 yards ahead of us another wild cat, going along leisurely. I immediately put my horse at a very fast gallop, intending to gain lots of ground on the cat before he became alarmed. I did so, and the animal was so careless that I had gained a hundred yards on him before he waked up, and even then he increased his speed only a little bit, much to my satisfaction. Finally, when the cat began running his best it was 172 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY too late, as I intended it should be, and I easily closed on him. About three fourths of a mile down the gradual slope there was a dry creek with no brush along its banks, and with very little depth. The creek was crooked, and when the cat jumped in and ran down it I jumped it on my horse and headed off my game, and then I used my shot gun again. After crossing the North Fork we followed our compass readings and passed about three miles below the spring on the Salt Fork where I saw old Sweet and his dugout in 1884, but a great change had taken place since then. As we rode we saw the beginnings of the present town of Mangum, the county seat of a great county. Several church steeples and the cupola of a court house were visible, also several hundred dwelling houses, and along the bold stream of gypsum water further west we saw many farms. By the compass and my military map we travelled to that township at the southwest corner of Greer County, going about fifteen miles nearly straight to the only good spring of good water that was shown on the map in that vicinity, and the only one shown on the big creek of alkali water where we had to camp. From my camp at this fine spring I rode all over the township, and found no sign of any one’s having been there except an old wagon track which had been made weeks, and perhaps months before our arrival there. Red River stood in pools far apart, and there was no other water in, or bordering on, that township. Thus we could find no sign of any one on either township. I was convinced that the man who had caused all this trouble had sat in his office at Fort Worth, Texas, with a map before him, and had selected two townships where the maps apparently A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 173 indicated many water courses, supposedly full of water. We found no water in any of these water courses, and having completed our task we started homeward. I found awaiting me a letter from Washington, a very short one, but long enough for the purpose. It said, “Oh, Mr. Crane, I must . But I mustn’t say a word, the Captain would scold me.” I needed no further information, my detail was sure, and so it was. In due time it came, and about the same time came the order changing the station of the 24th Infantry to New Mexico and Arizona, my own company going to San Carlos Indian Agency, on the Gila River, a place almost as hot as Yuma. But there was more bother with the Kiowa Indians, this time in the neighborhood of the camps that I visited in 1884, and I was again selected to ride with the cavalry. With a small detachment of cavalry I left Sill on May 25, 1888, and visited many Kiowa camps and delivered many more plain talks like those I gave Big Bow and his friends in July, 1884. Again I had a very small force to back up my position, but the lapse of four years had made a great change in the Indians. I had no trouble in dealing satisfactorily with them, and after riding around and visiting their camps, and hunting and fishing here and there as I rode, I returned to Fort Sill to find that my company and the others of the 24th Infantry had gone. How- ever, I had been absent only about ten or twelve days. This was early in June and I prepared to follow my own people. For baggage I had only one trunk, one box and one roll of bedding, and my packing was quickly accomplished. I kept my bedding roll open to the very last minute, using it as a “catch all” for 174 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the things for which I had no other place to put them. I put my good Scott shot gun in it, also a range finder just invented by Lieut. Sedgwick Pratt, of the Artillery, and many other odds and ends. Before leaving I carefully turned over to the Quar- termaster, Lieut. A. A. Augur, my box and bedding roll, and I never again saw the latter, but it greatly assisted me to recover damages from the railroad that I promptly reported from San Carlos as soon as I was sure of its having been mislaid. I began writing to various railroad officials, trying to locate the roll when I discovered that it did not accompany me or closely follow me, and in my first letter I enumerated all the articles I could remember putting in the roll, and I gave as a good reason for my anxiety the respec- tive value of the articles, each value given, and to these letters I owe the recovery of damages for the loss of the roll, for the letter enumerating the contents was written before there was any suggestion of pay- ment of damages. It took a year to actually get the money, and I made my application through the Quartermaster General of the Army. On the road from Sill, at the railroad station in Texas, I had to deposit my good rifle in the express car, notwithstanding my offer to protect that train against train robbers if allowed possession of my weapon en route, and on that same road a train was held up during the next 36 hours. The trainman wanted that 50 cents. On my arrival in Kansas City I discovered that my rifle had gone on to St. Louis, and this gave me more correspondence with the rail- road people. I did not then know of the loss of my bedding roll, and I tried hard to recover my rifle which I was very fond of. I made my application A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 175 straight to the railroad company. Later on I got my rifle back. I stopped a day or two at Fort Leavenworth to see old friends, and then I went on to Arizona. At Bowie Station I left the railroad and boarded a small stage for San Carlos Agency, some 90 miles distant. As I rode on that buckboard stage down the Gila River Valley from Solomon ville I certainly enjoyed the sight of the beautiful and flourishing farms of the Mormon settlers in that valley. These people are adepts in irrigation farming. I stopped one night at Old Fort Thomas, where the stage made an all night halt. I saw there old friends of the 10th Cavalry and I found there two companies of the 24th Infantry. At San Carlos I found my company (“C”) and several others of the 24th Infantry. Capt. Lewis Johnson was there, also Bullis, Ducat and Morris Wessels. The last named was my new captain, promoted on the death of B. M. Custer. Ducat had joined the regiment at Sill a year before, by exchange with Ripley, giving the 3rd Cavalry for the 24th Infantry. Bullis was Indian Agent, and didn’t like the job one bit, and I didn’t envy him his duties. I saw at San Carlos for the first time the 9th Infan- try, their Lieut. Col., Snyder being post commander, and Captain Leonard Hay, a brother of the statesman John Hay, commanded the one company of the 9th Infantry stationed there. Lieut. C. R. Noyes was his first lieutenant. During my short stay at this place Gen. Nelson A. Miles came all the way from his headquarters at San Francisco to investigate a small Indian trouble. He was accompanied by my classmate Lieut. C. B. Gate- wood, 6th Cav. and Lieut. Leonard Wood, Med. Dept. 176 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Gatewood was brought along because of his knowledge of the Arizona Indian and his great influence with the tribes about the agency. Wood was a very attractive, energetic young surgeon who showed a great liking for outdoor life and field work. He had been with Capt. H. W. Lawton, 4th Cav., during his campaign against Geronimo and his Chiricahua Apaches two years before. Gatewood was the hero, the real hero, in my humble opinion, of that campaign. I believe that during his two visits to Geronimo’s camp, down in old Mexico, he induced the Indians to come in and surrender when Lawton could not have compelled such action. I saw Gatewood later on and heard his story. He was not a man to exaggerate anything, especially his own share of a transaction. Officers were very scarce in Arizona at that time, and I was afraid that when General Miles saw how few there were of us at the agency my detail to the Military Academy would be revoked, but to my great relief it was not, and I was not interfered with, except to be sent up the Gila River about 15 miles to locate a soldier camp of the 24th Infantry with special reference to possible trouble with the Apaches. The river water there was very dark, as a result of the mines about Clifton, but there were still fish in the river. Quail were very abundant, but the season for hunting was several months off. All of the officers at San Carlos messed together, and two Chinamen ran the mess. These Chinamen seemed never to sleep, they were so industrious. At the mess was Capt. Charles Viele of the 10th Cav., an excellent officer who sometimes exaggerated in harm- less description of what No. 1 had done. One of his stories was as follows: A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 177 “One day, while fishing in a mountain stream near Fort Apache, I had just hooked a fine mountain trout, and I was having quite a busy time when I heard some small rocks rattling down the mountain side behind me. Looking around I saw a big bear sliding down the mountain directly towards me . Coolly I drew my Colt revolver, shot and killed the bear and at the same instant I pulled the big trout to land. My bear was dead also.” General Miles called upon Capt. Viele to tell that story a number of times before he left us, but Viele never varied in telling it. I was at San Carlos only eight or ten weeks, and I was delighted that my stay was to be no longer. It was the hottest place that I ever served at, and the only breeze came in the nature of a hot sand storm which was suffocating. Bullis was Indian Agent and had lots of trouble trying to keep his Apaches from drinking “tizwin,” a liquor made by allowing corn to ferment in water till it was strong enough to make one drunk after drinking several quarts of it. A tizwin drunk caused the trouble which brought General Miles to visit us. The Apaches were not horseback Indians like the Comanches and Kiowas, although they frequently took to horse when they broke out. They were not such large men as the others named, but they were built expressly for mountain climbing on foot, and at such exercise they were excellent. The only duties that I remember performing at San Carlos were one season’s target practice and that one trip up the Gila to locate a camp site at which to place a small detachment of 24th Infantry to protect 178 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY against raids by small bands of Indians. This was during the small Indian trouble alluded to, and this trouble didn’t amount to much, but the result was perhaps due in great measure to the efforts of Capt. Philip Lee and Lieut. James Watson, both of the 10th Cav. Watson was our best young officer there for that kind of duty, and Lee showed himself an excellent officer for such w r ork. Both of these officers were very busy, and had already performed their good work before the arrival of General Miles, making Gate- wood’s task easier and simpler. Without skillful handling of that little Indian affair we would have had a much bigger one. About the middle of August I started for West Point with Lieut. Noyes, 9th Infantry, who was also detailed for duty at the Military Academy. He went there in “math.” I was never so glad to get away from any other station. The heat was awful, and the big red ants were hotter, and the centipedes more numerous than I had ever seen before. The special home of the centipedes was under our water barrel just outside our frame tents, next to the moist soil. I tented with Ducat, and frequently we had only to slightly tilt over our water barrel to see and kill some new centipedes which had been attracted by the moist earth under the water barrel. But Noyes and I got away at last, and this time we took that long, hot, dusty, jerky stage ride to Bowie Station. I was delighted to get away from Arizona where officers were so scarce that I was liable to lose my fine detail. But for that promised detail I would have had a fine time hunting in the great game country around San Carlos. CHAPTER VII I stopped at Fort Leavenworth en route to West Point, and I reported for duty on the 28th of August as required by my order. I found myself senior assistant instructor in Infantry Tactics, being next in rank to the commandant of cadets himself who happened to be an infantryman. Major Hamilton S. Hawkins, Infantry, was commandant, and Col. J. G. Parke, Engineers, was superintendent. The latter was relieved a year after by another engineer officer, Col. J. M. Wilson. On my way through New York I met at the Grand Hotel Capt. J. M. K. Davis, Artillery, who had been a tactical officer during my cadet days, and he gave me some good advice with reference to hard study of the Academic Regulations and abiding by them. My first care, after reporting for duty, was to study hard those Regulations, but before reporting any cadet I took special pains to point out to him the identical improvement which I wanted made, and the special paragraph of the Regulations applied to the case. But, cadets need more proof, some of them being “from Missouri,” and I soon let them have it. At the first Sunday Morning Inspection of my com- pany (“B”) of cadets I convinced them that I knew how and where to find dirt and rust on a rifle. I reported about 50 for dirt and rust on rifle or bayonet, 179 180 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY and for articles not properly arranged in alcove, or in clothes press, or for floors not properly swept. I did not report all that deserved it, because I had doubts as to Cadet Captain Lassiter remembering so many reports, and I therefore stopped about the time I reached the fourth classmen in my inspection of the men under arms. I discovered that Lassiter was noted for his wonderful memory, and deservedly so. He remembered all the reports that I had given him to make in my name, also my reasons for each report, thus corroborating my reports and causing them to “stick.” All the following week and ever afterwards I reported strictly for all violations of Regulations, and on the second Sunday Morning Inspection I found that I could not justly make more than ten reports, and on the next not more than five. I had made my cadets know what I wanted, and they were quick to under- stand. From that time on I did not have to make as many reports as were made by the other tactical officers, who had not adhered so closely to the Regu- lations in the beginning. I tried to be absolutely fair, just and impartial, and at the same time very strict. When I was a cadet my classmates gave me several nicknames, calling me “Ranger,” “Cowboy,” “Bull- whacker,” “Whale,” etc., but I now found that I was “Ichabod, ” even “Old Ichabod, ” but my nicknames never bothered me. Although, as a result of Major Morse K. Taylor's efforts, our enlisted men had been using spring bunk bottoms for several years I found that the cadets were still using the old wooden slats. I invited the atten- tion of the Commandant to the fact, and it was soon remedied. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 181 In addition to requiring great cleanliness of rifle and room I made it my special duty to protect the new comer, the “plebe” sentinel on post, also to up- hold my cadet officers in the discharge of their duties, all this in the interest of good order and military discipline. Some officers now living will remember the success of some of my efforts in behalf of the plebe sentinel. I was not so successful in protecting my cadet officers. While inspecting the rooms of the cadets of my company one morning I found my cadet captain washing his face in bloody water, and I easily under- stood that he had been fighting. I quickly connected this with one or two recent reports which he had made against a sergeant of the company, and therefore I had a good idea as to the cause of his condition. In- quiring as to the cause of the bleeding I was informed that there had been a “contusion.” Pushing my inquiry further I learned that a sergeant of the com- pany had taken offence at one or two of his official reports and had challenged him to fight on account of these reports. I suggested the name of the sergeant and learned that I was right. I promptly went to the Commandant, explaining the matter and urging immediate punishment of the cadet who had beaten up my cadet captain. Then the Commandant told me how, in his time, “Jeb” Stuart (afterwards the celebrated cavalry leader of the South) was cadet captain of his company and had lots of trouble trying to get his classmates to appear -with shoes properly polished at formations for dress parade, and that finally one of them took offence at being reported by him for “shoes not properly polished at dress parade,” had invited Stuart down to Dade’s 182 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Monument and had pounded him good with his fists, causing Stuart to stay in the cadet hospital several days. At Stuart’s first reappearance he made his company a little speech, telling why he went to the hospital, and repeating his determination to have his classmates appear with shoes properly polished at formation for dress parade. After a few days more Stuart went again to the hospital with a battered face caused by another visit to Dade’s Monument. Again, at his first appearance after returning to duty Stuart told his company of cadets the history of his visit to Dade’s Monument, and again he repeated his determination to have his classmates wear properly polished shoes to dress parade. The Commandant then added that “Jeb Stuart had no more trouble, having won the respect and admiration of the entire company.” “But, Colonel,” I argued, “what was Jeb Stuart’s tactical officer doing all that time? He was surely neglecting his duty in allowing such proceedings in his company; he should have upheld his cadet captain in the proper discharge of his military duties, which would at least have prevented a repetition of the first trouble. That is what I am trying to do, and I think that my cadet sergeant should be punished.” The Commandant agreed to let my report against the cadet sergeant proceed the usual way, which meant almost certain punishment. On returning next day from New York I learned that at the special request of my cadet captain his opponent had been released from arrest and restored to duty. The Com- mandant’s kind heart had saved the cadet sergeant from just punishment. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 183 Duty at our great military school was very pleasant, and the tactical officers had the easiest and most congenial duties to perform. Ours were purely mili- tary duties, while the other officers were employed in teaching in subjects not essentially military, although very important. These latter had, however, each summer, a vacation of two or three months to spend in Europe, or anywhere else, while we tactical officers had to be content with less time in the winter. Prominent men came to attend the graduating exercises, and General W. T. Sherman seldom missed them and always showed his great love and admira- tion for the Corps of Cadets. Eminent foreigners came to get a peep at our methods of instruction. During the summer the cadets were in camp, and the tactical officers were specially on duty then. There is no place in all the United States so attractive to the gentler sex as West Point in the summer. Most of the officers are absent then, and one class of the cadets are on furlough, nevertheless the uniform is to be seen everywhere, and the wearers have sufficient leisure to help make time fly fast. Lieut. Hamilton S. Rowan, of the class of ’76, the class with which I began my cadet life, lived next door to the angle of barracks where I had my bachelor quarters, and there came visiting the Rowans a Miss Martha Graham Mitchell, of Lancaster, Pa. She was the daughter of the Reverend James Mitchell, a Presbyterian minister, and of his wife Henrietta Michler, a sister of Col. Michler, U. S. Engineers. By her mother’s side Miss Mitchell was descended from John Hart, a signer of the Declaration of In- dependence. I did not stop visiting my classmate’s quarters because a girl visitor had arrived. 184 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY At that time the Commandant was trying to have only bachelor officers commanding cadet companies, and my “singleblessedness” had been one of my chief recommendations, so the Commandant informed me when he learned of my engagement to Miss Mitchell, and he therefore applied for my relief from duty at the Military Academy, to take effect as soon as I married, which I did December 26, 1889, Lieut. C. R. Noyes being my best man. But the Superintendent, in forwarding the Commandant’s letter said in his indorsement that to relieve a young officer imme- diately after his marriage would look too much like punishing him for that act, and he therefore recom- mended that I be not relieved immediately, but six months thereafter. I was relieved from duty at West Point July 1, 1890, but I landed nicely on my feet, for a few weeks prior to that date I had received from Zenas R. Bliss, then Colonel of the 24th Infantry, an offer of the regimental adjutancy, which I hastened to accept. Col. Hawkins meant to be consistent, but he soon found out that he could not, under the circumstances. Then he tried to get the order relieving me revoked, but it was too late, my successor had been ordered there, and I was very glad to rejoin my regiment, but I will tell a little more of my duty at West Point. In the spring of 1889 I accompanied the Corps of Cadets to New York to take part in the great parade there commemorating the 100th anniversary of Wash- ington’s first inauguration as our country’s first and greatest President. We marched through the big city, and many were the incidents which tested the drill, discipline and reliability under strain, of that in- comparable body of troops, the U. S. Corps of Cadets. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 185 Vehicles of the Fire Department, and Hospital Emergency wagons came from the front and from the rear, at full speed, straight at the marching column of cadets, and from my post in front of the right flank of the leading company I looked and doubted, but only for an instant. The Commandant, from his position in front of us all, could not make any com- mand heard, and he could not see what was happening in the rear, so that any personal supervision from him was impossible. But, the situation was always safe. The cadet officer commanding the leading company (or rear company) quickly and coolly gave the command, “Two fours from right (or left) to rear. Double time. March,” and each company commander, one after the other, followed his example, thus opening a lane promptly and gradually, and it was closed just as easily and smoothly. After the vehicle had passed through at breakneck speed each commander, at the right instant gave the command, “Rear fours. Left (or right) front into line. Double time. March.” One after another the cadet companies executed these different commands perfectly, and just as though they had been practicing for what happened, and I knew that such had not been the case. The regular drill commands had been used, and the multitude filling the houses and side walks also knew that what they had seen was not included in the program, and for that reason their applause was all the greater, and more spontaneously given. During the summer of 1889, while the Corps was in camp, I was at the Commandant’s tent alone, one day, and looking out across the plain I saw General Sherman approaching from near the Academic Build- 186 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ings, and still several hundred yards away. He had shortly before been retired on reaching the age limit (64), and he was in civilian clothes, but, having some- how heard of his coming I managed to recognize him, but I feared for the cadet sentinel on Post Number One. This was the General’s first visit to West Point since retirement, and the General, as he soon informed me, wondered what the cadet sentinel would do, know- ing that he, the General, was no longer entitled to the honors previously given him by the guard. But he had faith in Cadet intelligence, and in their ability to do the right thing at the right time, and the following instance was to strengthen that faith. When he had arrived at the spot where the cadet sentinel had been accustomed to announce the ap- proach of a general officer the General was delighted to hear the sentinel’s clear voice ring out, “Turn out the guard for General Sherman.” It had previously been, “for the Commanding General,” and the sub- stitution of “General Sherman” was not strictly and absolutely correct from the military standpoint. But, it was done, and to the General’s great satisfaction, and it was then given me to listen to him talk as only he could talk. He fondly loved the Corps of Cadets, and did not try to conceal his feelings. During that same cadet encampment I was awakened one night about midnight while sleeping in my tent, and I was puzzled to know the cause, but the expression “John L. Sullivan and his boodle” seemed ringing in my ears, and I could not understand it. The mystery was soon cleared up. As I lay on my cot, now wide awake, I distinctly heard the cadet sentinel in rear of the Commandant’s tent call out his challenge “W 7 ho comes there?” and then I heard the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 187 clash of bayonets crossing and some muffled expres- sions from the same direction. Then I heard the relief of the guard approaching the same sentinel, who was already busy, but who managed to challenge “Who comes there?” The first challenge had been answered by the expression “John L. Sullivan and his boodle, ” and it helped to clear up my ideas, and this time the answer was “Relief. ” Then I understood the whole scheme. The sentinel called out “Halt relief. Advance Corporal with the countersign,” as was required in those days. Then I heard the Corporal advance and assist the first man in hazing the sentinel, who was evidently a “plebe.” I now took a hand. I called out, “Number One,” and I had to repeat, and add, “Sentinel on Number One” before that individual replied “Yes, Sir.” I went on to say, “Sentinel, I am Lieutenant Crane. Do you understand me?” to which he answered, “Yes, Sir.” “Identify that man who crossed bayonets with you. Do you know him?” and again he replied, “Yes, Sir.” “Identify the Corporal of the guard; do you know him, too?” Still the answer was “Yes, Sir.” I then dressed and went out to see the sentinel, and the corporal, and the man who had answered, “John L. Sullivan and his boodle.” The last man was the sentinel from the adjoining post who thought he would have a little fun with a new cadet on post. He and the corporal were classmates; I am sure they remember the incident, and their punishment. The sentinel who did the hazing was assigned to the 24th Infantry. I don’t believe that he ever forgave me completely. I had other corporals of the guard punished for 188 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY trying to haze their plebe sentinels while they were on post. I always considered the duties of a sentinel very important, and I meant to impress that idea on the cadets. During the last few months of my stay at West Point, I commanded the Band, and my company was given to another officer. As next in rank in the in- fantry arm to the Commandant himself I was entitled to increased pay regardless of my duties, while the other officer had to command a cadet company in order to draw such increased pay. But the other officer was married, and had been called on to refund some increased pay previously given him, and the Commandant now wished to make that amount good to the officer. That circumstance made the Com- mandant submit a second letter, requesting that the first one be withdrawn. For my marriage, because of the assistance which I had given my family, I had to sell the block in Laredo which Capt. Markley had helped me to buy. I gave $300 for it, and I sold the vacant block for double that amount after three years’ ownership, and now it is worth twenty times that much. However, when a man marries he must have the money. It was the same then as it is now, in that respect. After several weeks spent in New York and in Lancaster, Pa., we returned to West Point where we lived upstairs over Lieut. Flynn, 8th Cavalry, keeping house in a modest way, with only a cook. Soon after returning from our honeymoon I tried to get my life insured. Major , the post surgeon, examined me for one of the great New York insurance companies. After tapping me many times on the back and chest, and spending much time listen- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 189 ing to my lungs and heart beats, with his ear against my body, he straightened up and said, “ I would advise you to stop right here.” In reply to a series of questions from me he in- formed me that he had observed heart symptoms which indicated serious heart trouble there; that my heart had been greatly damaged by my several at- tacks of rheumatism, giving me at most about ten short years to live; that another hard attack of rheumatism would take me off, and that I might look for it any time, in case my system should become run down; that my new station at Fort Bayard, New Mexico, was very high and that such great altitude was very conducive to rheumatism and heart trouble. By that time I had become somewhat irritated, and I finally told him, “Major , I am going down to New Mexico and I’ll give your rheumatism and weak heart a good test. I am a hunter, and I am going to run all over those mountains after bear and deer. But, being forewarned I am forearmed, and I’ll live forever.” I then obtained from him the valuable information that my best preventive of rheumatism and weak heart would be a good physical condition generally, and that whatever system of diet and exercise would most benefit my general condition would also best tend to keep away rheumatism. I then requested him to fill out and complete the form of examination, and I took it away with me. Of course what the surgeon had told me had depressed me very much, but I consoled myself a little by trying to believe that he was mistaken, or, at least, that he didn’t know it all . So, a few weeks later I took that paper with me into the New York office of “The Equitable,” one of 190 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the biggest insurance companies in the world, and there I told the whole story and requested an examina- tion with view to being insured for a small amount. I was given a very full and careful examination by their surgeon, and was told by him that but for the paper which I had brought with me I would be promptly accepted, and that, if at the end of a year I should remain in such good condition, I would be accepted by The Equitable. Major died several years afterwards, and I have lived on these many years. I have always believed that mild dyspepsia had been mistaken for heart disease, and I believe that such mistake is made by many physicians. On July 6, 1890, we left for Fort Bayard, New Mexico, stopping about a week at Lancaster, Pa., and another week with my mother at old Independence, Texas. We stopped with our parents. We reached Fort Bayard early in August, 1890, and I was promptly appointed regimental adjutant of the 24th Infantry by my colonel, Zenas R. Bliss, whom I found to be one of the finest specimens of the “Old Army” that I ever saw, and his wife was even better. Duty under Col. Bliss was pleasant to all. He was not aggressive, but he knew thoroughly the duties of a regimental and post commander, and he quietly managed to have every man perform his duty well. He punished no one needlessly, and did not like to drive any one to the wall, but all the time he had a most efficient and well disciplined command. After I had been his adjutant a few weeks he informed me one day that in my desk were some papers relating to two officers of the 10th Cavalry that were no longer needed, and he suggested to get them lost. Those papers were soon lost, and I so informed my Colonel. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 191 I succeeded my classmate J. J. Brereton as adjutant, and at the same time Alfred M. Palmer was regimental quartermaster and commissary. The post was garrisoned by the Band and four companies of the 24th Infantry, and two troops of cavalry. At first we had the 10th, then the 1st, and finally the 1st and 7th Cavalry with us, two troops only at a time. Just outside the post was the small frontier town Central, and eight miles distant was Silver City, the terminus of the short railroad from Deming, N. M. Fourteen miles in the mountains was the dead and abandoned town Georgetown, which had once been an important mining town. Before we left Bayard another branch of the road from Deming came in between the mountains and our post, the station being only about three and a half miles away. The post is located on a small creek which comes down from the mountains. The mountains begin right there, and the climbing is continuous for many hundred feet. From Fort Bayard we could see many miles of mountains in different directions, and the altitude of the post was said to be 6700 feet. It was the healthiest post I ever served at, and the climate was the most pleasant. We had plenty of snow in the winter, and it never got so warm in the shade as to be unpleasant. Previously it had been an impor- tant station for service against Indians, but by 1890 that condition had disappeared. Kind hearted and jovial Col. Bliss hated to be alone, and he was a most interesting narrator of what he had seen and heard. He was one of the few men who had ever killed a devil fish, and one of his favorite stories was that of such an exploit near the mouth of the Mississippi River, off Ship Island according to my 192 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY recollection, where he succeeded in killing and bring- ing to land a huge specimen of the water reptile, half fish. Nearly all of Col. Bliss’s time in the military service was spent in the southwest, and about half of it in Texas. During my incumbency as regimental adjutant the position of regimental quartermaster and commissary became vacant, and about six months prior to such event Col. Bliss very naturally asked me, “Who shall I make quartermaster?” Without hesitation I replied, “Augur.” “All right,” he said, “write him a letter and see if he wants the job.” I knew my classmate, and knowing him I tried hard to get the Colonel’s authority merely to issue the necessary order later on and say nothing to Augur about it, but the Colonel insisted that Augur might not w r ant the position, and so I had to write the letter. Augur was then either at Fort Grant or Fort Huachuca, Arizona, and I wrote the letter with great misgiving. After waiting a reasonable length of time for a reply I had to write another, and still another, with the same result — no reply from Augur. Of course another officer w r as given the much coveted regimental staff office. Col. Bliss was justly very much hurt by Augur’s silence, and I was exceedingly sorry and disappointed. Augur would have made a most satis- factory and efficient quartermaster. His ability in handling all questions of supply was great enough for the supply of a great army, but he shied at the possibility of some one imagining that he had sought a position, or that he had owed a position to the sugges- tion of a friend, or by one. But, all things considered, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 193 there was no excuse whatever for his conduct on that occasion. Col. Bliss took a leave of absence in 1893 or 1894, and on his return he told me that with the U. S. Senator from his state he had called on the President, in the effort to get promotion to brigadier general, and that as a result of such visit he hoped for good luck before retirement for age. He was promoted late in 1894, or early in 1895, and afterwards reached another star, retiring as a major general. His only vanity was his belief that he looked like General W. S. Han- cock, which he really did, and the big black felt hat which he wore made the resemblance more striking. Before the departure of Col. Bliss I was given a grade, that of captain, and I was assigned to the command of Company “F,” in place of Capt. C. C. Hood, promoted to a majority in the 7th Infantry. I was to command that company longer than any other, and I found it in excellent condition, and my greatest care was to preserve the company in as good condition as I found it. While Hood’s methods were different from my own, I realized and appreciated the good results he had obtained, and I gave him credit for great ability as a company commander. Appar- ently he was easier on his men and exacted less evidence of good discipline than I did, but good results count most, and Hood had obtained them. The company was specially noted for neat appearance and good shooting. My sons William Carey and James Mitchell were born in the same room of the same adobe set of quar- ters at Fort Bayard, on the 25th of March, 1891, and the 26th of May, 1894, respectively. We had the same first nurse for both of them, for one month each 194 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY time. Her name was Cora Thomas, and she was the wife of a private of the Band. I was present when each of my sons entered this world, and I gave all the assistance I could, and I found that I could do a whole lot. A husband who cannot be of any assistance at the birth of his own child must have missed something in his make up as a man. It is his duty to be there, and do all he can to make easier for his wife a most trying time of great suffering. In the case of the first born we had no night nurse at the expiration of the first month, and we had to do it ourselves. I did my share of cradle rocking at night until it occurred to me that all that cradle rocking to put a healthy baby to sleep was not only unneces- sary, but it was the beginning of many other un- necessary things, and tending to bring up a boy wrong, besides imposing on the parents much useless and sometimes unhealthy work. I figured out that if a young animal like a puppy, or a kitten could be taught all sorts of things, our child could learn just as easily and quickly, and I determined to give that matter of early training a fair test before consenting to have my night’s rest and my wife’s rest at night ever afterward at the mercy of an unthinking baby. So, after assisting for about a week in rocking the month old infant Carey to sleep at night, I succeeded after a great deal of protest and objection from my wife in persuading her not to rock the child to sleep at all, but instead, at the regular sleep time at night to merely put the boy in his bed, blow out the lights and leave the room, all this after making sure that no pins were sticking in the child. My wife “just knew that her child would cry himself to death.’’ and she thought me very hard hearted, but she was not A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 195 willing to admit that her child could not be trained as easily as a puppy could. But, to her surprise and somewhat to mine too, the baby cried for only half an hour the first night of no rocking, during which time I simply had to keep my wife away and out of sight. The second night the infant cried not more than half as long as he did the first night, very little the third night and none at all the fourth night, and after that none at all when put to bed. That saved us lots of trouble, and gained me much reputation as a baby trainer. I did not fail to repeat that training when number two came along. But, the baby’s mother spoiled him by feeding him practically as often as the little imp would wake up and cry for it, and that again called for training, so as to insure us a good night’s rest. So, after about three months I got tired of having my first born get his mother up at just any old time of the night. I noticed how he did it, and I could easily see that he merely waked up and wanted his mother awake too. We had had our night’s rest spoiled a great many times, needlessly too, and I determined to train my boy again. So, after unsuccessfully endeavoring many times to persuade the mother to pay absolutely no attention to the child when she knew that neither hunger nor pain had awakened him, I took the bull by the horns, and then the first time my little hopeful began his method of waking his mother merely because he happened to be awake I spoke to him several times, telling him to stop his noise and go to sleep, and find- ing that my voice had no effect I quickly rose from my bed, took young America out of bed with one hand, turned him over with my left hand while with my right I spanked him good, several times. 196 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Then I quietly replaced Carey in his little bed, mildly and firmly told him to be quiet and go to sleep, and then I went back to bed, myself. Another splendid piece of baby training! After a few sniffles the tiny little baby went off to sleep, and henceforth he needed no more than a word or two from me to make him change his mind about waking his mother. Though only three months old the baby knew very well the meaning of what I said to him, also why I whipped him, just as I believed he would. Although my wife called me all sorts of a brute when I spanked her infant, she soon gave me great credit for success in baby training. I have tried to stiffen the backbones of other fathers on that same subject, and to persuade them that they too had some rights in their own houses, and in the bringing up of their own children, but I can’t claim any great success in my efforts. But, I am sure that there would be much more contentment and even happiness in hundreds of our American homes if the father would assert himself as I did, on the occasions described. After the midnight experience just described we merely put the child to bed, carefully saw to it that no pins could possibly annoy the baby, and then we left him alone for hours at a time, all with the best of results. When the average baby is about six months old the mother’s milk is no longer sufficient nourishment for him, or her. Then we see the average American mother turn up her nose at the idea of using the next best food for babies, Gail Borden’s condensed milk, and they hunt for all sorts of costly substitutes, being ashamed to use anything so cheap as condensed milk. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 197 We did that, too, and with Number One; the ex- pensive substitute was satisfactory, except as to price. But, with Number Two, Mitchell, we could find no high priced food for children that came near filling the requirements, and after inquiring of many mothers we finally learned about Gail Borden’s great gift to mothers, but our lady informant begged that her information be kept a secret from all the other mothers there, as she was ashamed to have them know that she had used condensed milk on her little darlings. Thousands of American mothers will insist that, “Oh, my baby just can’t take condensed milk, it doesn’t agree with him, ” all without having ever tried it on her child. The American woman can’t endure the idea of not getting the very best, and, as with articles to wear, she considers the most expensive article of baby food to be the best. In 1891 an insurance agent of the Penn Mutual Company came to Fort Bayard, and I had no diffi- culty in getting a 15 year endowment policy in it, and then I immediately took out another policy in our Army Mutual Aid Association, the same physician, our post surgeon, examining me for both companies. My mountain climbing was evidently improving my general health and physical condition. While I was adjutant, Capt. Markley of the 24th Infantry came to serve at our post. I was glad to serve with him again, and the Captain also appeared to enjoy his service at Fort Bayard. During the early ’90’s Captain , — th Cavalry, was one of the most interesting and witty officers at Fort Bayard. He knew a cavalry troop from “a to izzard,” and at the same time he had a 198 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY quaint humor that made him a very agreeable com- panion. One morning, while I was adjutant, on arriving at the office I found a letter from Capt. , which, if carried to its natural conclusion through official channels, would have made trouble for him. The circumstances were such that I felt justified in not presenting that letter to the post commander, along with other papers. After waiting all day to see the Captain I went to his quarters late in the afternoon. When I knocked at the door Mrs. — opened it. I asked for the Captain, and she wanted to know if she would not do. I knew her good sense and I answered, “Yes,” and then I added, “Will you please tell the Captain that the letter which he sent in this morning is not properly written, and that the Adju- tant says that, if it must go in, it should be changed very much.” I gave her the letter alluded to, and, looking very grateful Mrs. said that she would attend to it, and I am sure that she did, for I heard no more of it, and I was glad to have the matter settled in that manner. Once, while I was Regimental Adjutant, I had to witness the payment of Company “F, ” 24th Infantry, some time in the latter part of 1891, or early in 1892, and this incident made me acquainted with the best colored soldier that ever served under my command. It happened in this manner. In those days we gave great attention to all kinds of signalling and to telegraphy, and the garrison at Fort Bayard maintained the telegraph line to Silver City, and kept a small office in a tent near the W estern Union office, in this way relaying our messages. On the date in question both soldiers who were on A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 199 duty at the tent happened to belong to Company “F, ” one as operator and the other as messenger. The operator was named Dickerson, and the messenger was named Beckam, and the former was present at the payment, leaving the messenger at Silver City. The two men alternated in going in to Fort Bayard to be present at payment, and the payments were two months apart. At the next payment there was some difficulty in ascertaining from the records of Company “F” the date of the last payment of Private Dicker- son, and Capt. Hood wanted to know from me if Dickerson had been present at the last payment. He sent to get this information from me the messenger from the tent in Silver City, John T. Beckam, then a private. Nothing had happened to impress the pay- ment of Dickerson on my mind, and so I told Beckam that I didn’t know. I had never before looked at the man, but now I took a good look at him when he suggested, “I’ll find out, if you say so.” As I looked at him I saw that he had a plan which he considered a good one, so I told him that I would like very much for him to get the information for me. He looked pleased at the thought of working his scheme on Dickerson, and my curiosity was excited a little. I asked Beckam how he would find out if Dickerson had been paid on last pay day, and when he hesitated I repeated my request. With that same queer look on his face he replied, “I’ll telegraph to Dickerson and find out from him.” I asked Beckam how he had learned to telegraph, and was told that he had been whiling away his time, his idle hours, in playing with the machine, and that he knew enough to make Dickerson understand him. 200 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I then told him to go out and get the information as quickly as he could, and I had not long to wait before Beckam returned with a greatly pleased expression on his face as he reported, “Dickerson says, ‘Yes, Sir.’ ” I insisted on knowing the exact words of his message to the other man, and here they are: “The Adjutant wants to know how much he paid you at last payment.” That was a smart message. We had no proof at all that Dickerson had been paid at last payment, and we were afraid to have him know of our ignorance, thinking it possible that the man might deny the payment, and Beckam knew the danger of allowing the other man to know that, therefore he assumed the fact of payment in his message to Dickerson by asking him how much he had been paid and by giving it as a message direct from the Adjutant. The exact words of Dickerson in replying to Beckam’s question had been, “Twenty -five, seventy- five.” The monthly pay of a soldier in those days was $13 for a private, twenty-five cents having been de- ducted for the Soldiers’ Home at Washington, D. C. I believe that deduction of twelve and a half cents each month has been stopped. I thanked Beckam very warmly, and I never forgot that incident and the knowledge of human nature shown by Beckam. Although nearly five years in the service he was still a private. When I was promoted on July 2, 1892, to succeed Capt. Hood in the command of Company “F” I found Beckam still a private and on furlough, near the end of his enlistment. The 1st Sergeant told me that Beckam intended to go to the 25th Infantry, then in Montana. A vacancy occurred among my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 201 corporals while he was away, and I wished so much to retain Beckam in my company that I appointed him corporal in the hope that it would keep him with me. But when his time was up he tried to get authority to be enlisted for the 25th Infantry. The War Depart- ment declined, because of the distance to Fort Mis- soula, Montana. So, Beckam remained with me, and I made his warrant continuous on reenlistment, and promoted him sergeant as soon as a vacancy occurred among the sergeants of the company. I made him attend non-commissioned officers’ school, and drill recruits and assist the company clerk, and do every kind of military duty that I could find for him. I found him to be the best instructor of raw recruits that I ever saw, also excellent in recitation. I was training him for the important duties of 1st Sergeant, and I wanted him to be fit for the place. He had no easy time of it. Mountain climbing and running around after the quail of New Mexico and Arizona did not require many weeks’ service at Fort Bayard to convince me that my physical condition was not good enough for that sort of work, and that drove me to think up some muscle making exercises. I began by taking several of our drill book setting up exercises, and then I improvised half a dozen for myself, and from that date to the present time I have practiced these exercises daily before breakfast, adding a new exercise now and then, and I have found them to be of in- calculable benefit to my health and strength. My leg exercises simulated mountain climbing, one step at a time, and alternating the legs in the movement, all without moving out of my tracks. From a standing position, feet together, I would 202 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY begin by kneeling on one knee, putting that knee on the floor, and sitting down on the heel of that same foot, then rise and put that foot beside the other, and similarly kneel on the other knee and continue, alter- nating in kneeling. By alternating knees and kneeling 25 or 30 times on each knee I obtained a fine muscle making exercise for the legs which has ever since then kept my legs in good condition for marching and hunting. I have seen no description of indoor exercises which I consider half as good as mine. My other exercises were for the arms and trunk of body, arm swinging, body bending and breathing exercises, all excellent and natural movements. Ten minutes of these exercises taken before breakfast, while waiting for the bath tub to slowly fill up, will work wonders for any one. Of course in my hunts in the mountains I was always on the lookout for bears, and twice I had excellent opportunities and failed, and then I had the chagrin to have a youngster, 2nd Lieut. H. J. Price, 24th Infantry, kill a bear on his first trip into the mountains with me from our twenty days’ field service and camp on the Sapillo Creek, about 25 miles from the post. However, Price deserved all his good luck. On another occasion, one October morning when in those same mountains with Lieuts. Price and Glas- gow, I was alone, and sat down near the edge of an immense canyon to look and listen. I was a little lower than the general level (mesa) behind me, and I was looking especially for bear in a place which seemed very fine for that animal. It was cold and damp, and I had on thick buckskin gloves, and I found them none too warm. Soon I heard behind me on the mesa the running of cattle, and walking back to where I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 203 could see them and the cause of their running I saw an immense silver tip, “Old Eph” himself, not more than 50 yards away, moving about under a juniper tree. I dropped instantly out of sight, pulled off my right hand glove and got another cartridge out of my pocket. I did this quicker than I am telling of it, and then I quickly straightened up and looked for Ephraim the big bear. Too late, for Old Eph was running off very fast, and was much farther from me. Of course I fired, but I could not have hit a house from the inside then. While pulling off my glove so as to be able to pull the trigger better I saw that bear dead (in my mind’s eye) I stood gloating over him, exulting in my good shoot- ing, I took his hide home and showed it to my wife, and then I sent it to Leonhard Roos and Co. of St. Louis. I even had (in my imagination) the beautifully mounted pelt on the floor in our best room. All during the half an instant! and then to look up and see my silver tip hide escaping from me! it so took the heart from me that I had worse than “buck ague.” Another time, when out hunting with Capt. Hood and a big party on the upper Gila Rivers, I was again sitting down, late in the afternoon, in a beautiful spot, again looking and listening. I was where two steep and narrow valleys came together, and the head of one of them was only about 150 yards distant. Everything seemed very quiet. Suddenly I distinctly heard the cracking of limbs being broken by something or somebody, and, looking hard, I saw a big black bear on his haunches, or hind feet, head up among the lower limbs of a small cedar tree, apparently eating the berries, and breaking the limbs by pulling them down with his paws. I could not see his outlines, and 204 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I wanted to be so sure, after such previous bad luck! So, I slid down the slope of the hillside where I was sitting, crossed the narrow valley, climbed the far side and could still hear the limbs breaking about 75 yards away. I crawled fast for a few yards on hands and knees, and then failing to hear any more limb cracking I rose and ran toward the cedar tree. No bear was there, but on looking all around I saw him disappear over the edge of another hill, and I ran there to get a shot. The mountain side there was very steep, and the valley was very broad, and when my bear appeared again he was distant 300 or 400 yards. I sat down and fired a number of shots at him, but my hits raised no dust on the hillside, nor did I get any other indication as to where my bullets went, there- fore my shooting was very poor. My luck and my judgment seemed about equal in poor quality. In 1893 I had general court martial duty at Old Fort Stanton, N. M., and Fort Bowie, Arizona. In the first instance Lieutenants Seyburn and Jenks, 24th Infantry, accompanied me, and Captain Markley was with me on the other trip. At Stanton I saw Bogardus Eldridge, Wilhelm and Bullard, all of the 10th Infantry and excellent officers. The first two were afterwards killed in the Philippines, and Bullard lived to win much fame in France, in the Great World War. One day, near Stanton, Bullard and I went to investigate a cave. We walked in a few yards, we crawled in about 100 yards more, and still went on. We couldn’t see ten feet ahead of us, and we knew that we were in rattlesnake paradise. I don’t know how far we were from the mouth of that cave when it occurred to us that it was high time for us to get out of there. So, we turned back and I believe that we A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 205 made better time going that way, in spite of our having no light. We were lucky to get out of that adventure without any bad luck. There was quite a pool of water in that cave, near the entrance, but we got started off on the wrong fork. In the spring of 1894 I was ordered to Fort Logan, Colorado, to sit as a member of an examining board, with Major C. C. Hood, 7th Inf., and my classmate 0. J. Brown, 1st Cav., as the other members. There I saw Col. H. C. Merriam and his infantry pack, and of course the pack was put on me. No one escaped Col. Merriam and his pack. But, really, it was the best pack of that kind that I ever saw. I saw also my classmate Gatewood in Denver, where he lived after retirement for injury received in putting out a fire somewhere. This time I got from him the story of Geronimo’s surrender. I tried to get him to publish a description of how he twice visited Geronimo’s camp and induced him to come in. Ger- onimo and his hostile Chiricahua Apaches had been for many months the terror and scourge of Arizona and northern Mexico, and when Gatewood went in to their camp they were in the mountains of Sonora, Mexico, with Capt. H. W. Lawton and his troop of the 4th Cav. a few miles away. I told Gatewood that his classmates were very proud of what he had done, and that in justice to us and to himself he ought to leave a record of his achievement. He promised to do so, but at the date of his death it had not been published. In July, 1894, the battalion of the 24th Infantry stationed at Fort Bayard was ordered to Trinidad, Colorado, on strike duty, and our officers were much disturbed over their prospective duties and the 206 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY possible results thereof. At that time we had no protection from the action of every civil officer who might choose to arrest us while on such duty, and I was several times asked, “Will you have your men fire on the strikers? You will get into trouble if you do.” My invariable answer was that I was going to carry out my orders, and that it behooved the other fellow to look out, and keep out of trouble. President Grover Cleveland’s order regulating and describing the duties of the Army, when called out by the President of the United States, was dated, I believe July 9, 1894, the day we started from Bayard, and since the publication of his order, now embodied in our Army Regulations, we have had no trouble with strikers which resulted in the shedding of any blood. The actual appearance of regulars has been sufficient. Grover Cleveland was one of our best presidents, and the Army has had no better friend in the White House. Since then I have always described myself as a Cleve- land Democrat. When we started for Trinidad I was fast getting stiff from rheumatism, and it rained for hours on us at the little depot of Hall’s Station before the train started, and I felt my joints getting bigger and stiffer, and after about an hour’s travel my colonel, big, kind hearted Zenas R. Bliss, stopped at my seat and said, “You have no business with us. You ought to be at home.” I requested him to please allow me to go on to Trinidad and see if there was to be any fighting, any chance for making vacancies in the regiment, explaining that I wanted to give the young lieutenants the benefit of a possible chance on me in case of any fighting at Trinidad, and I promised to go back to Bayard just as soon as the fighting should be over. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 207 He said, “All right, but you ought to be at home now.” I was in Trinidad only two days when I could see that there was to be no fighting, and my rheumatism simply compelled me to waste no more time there, so I started for Bayard, taking my soldier orderly to care for me on the road. I found a doctor on the train who gave me some medicine to ease my pain, and I needed it. On the way back to Deming, N. M., we heard that the strikers had fixed a railroad switch there for us as we went north, intending to run our train off the track, but that one kind hearted and conscientious striker wouldn’t stand for that sort of murder, and he therefore repaired the track just before the arrival of our train, which had been delayed several hours by the hard rain previously mentioned. I also saw, en route returning, the smoking remains of a small railroad bridge in the mountains. This bridge had been burned by the strikers. After being confined to my bed for more than a month I went to the big Army and Navy Hospital at Hot Springs, Arkansas, for treatment, and there I remained for two months. In addition to the excellent system of hot baths, sweats, hot water drinking and gymnastic facilities put in use at the hospital, I was massaged daily by an expert, a Swede who had been a sergeant major in the Swedish army. This man was wonderfully developed in his hands and arms, and he made good use of his strength in giving me various forms of massage. When I had observed for several weeks all his different movements, and had noticed their results, I found that I had the following ideas regarding rheumatism and its causes. Whether caused by malic or by uric acid, or by 208 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY other poison in the blood, whatever does the damage is in the blood all the time, perhaps in varying quantity, or strength, and, like small drift wood in a swollen creek, is continually passing down the stream, keeping in the middle of the current where the stream is straight, and sometimes landing against the bank and accumulating at sharp curves and bends of the creek, especially where the water loses in depth and strength. Gradually there is then caused in the creek a drift pile, which may even reach across the stream, and may even cause a dam, and unless the dam is broken up and scattered, and the channel cleared of obstruction, there will result an overflow, and perhaps a change of channel. Similarly, the minute particles of rheumatic poison move along in the veins, making no trouble so long as there is no narrowing of the channel, nor lessening of the depth, but let there come either, caused by the particles impinging against a crooked bank, or by slow running of the water at any place, and there will be a gradually collected dam in the veins, and more and more difficulty in passing the blood along. Soon there will be swelling, the blood not being able to pursue its natural course, and the current being now slower the poison accumulates faster, and then some- body has rheumatism. The use of massage in the treatment of rheumatism resembles the breaking up of the drift wood dam in the creek, and this is accomplished by the continual work- ing of the muscles, joints, tendons and every part of the system which can be moved, thus shaking off loose particles of poison and starting them down the stream which is kept free and clear by the same treat- ment. These ideas are my own, but there seems to be A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 209 proof, or corroboration in the successful practice of massage and of lots of daily exercise. Sometime in 1895 something happened which gave me quite a respect for some of the methods of the civil authorities in handling cases. William Cain, my company clerk, was discharged, and his papers were made out by himself and then examined by me. I noticed the large amounts recorded as deposits, and I carefully verified them from the old Descriptive Book, without suspicion but with some surprise at the large amounts. I called Cain’s attention to these big deposits, and he satisfied my curiosity. After his discharge Cain went to Los Angeles, California, and started a barber shop, and he was so indiscreet as to send back to the company some specimens of his business card, and one of these cards was, naturally, shown to me. In two or three months I received from the Pay- master General of the Army an invitation to explain certain discrepancies between the amounts of Cain’s deposits as reported by the paymaster, and those shown on the final statements of the soldier and cashed by him on discharge. I immediately inspected very carefully the records in the Descriptive and Letters Sent Books, and turning to the glancing sun- light the record shown in the Descriptive Book I saw evidences of erasure and alteration which Cain had forgotten to copy, or repeat, in the recorded letter sent to the Paymaster General announcing the deposits. I immediately wrote requesting the Department Commander to have Cain arrested, forwarding the business card of Cain as proof of his whereabouts, and I was ordered to Los Angeles, Cal., to be examined by 210 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the United States Commissioner there. Not long after that I was summoned to appear before the United States Grand Jury at Silver City, N. M. I spent all day before that grand jury, and late in the day I got from the mail there, which was en route to Fort Bayard, the letter from the Paymaster General containing the original reports of deposit showing the real amounts deposited, and after comparing the forgeries with the correct records the Grand Jury informed me that they had found an indictment. I remained an hour or two longer to assist the U. S. District Attorney in preparing his paper, and I was told by him that the case would be tried the next day beginning at 9 o’clock a.m. I testified on the following day as requested, the trial was completed that same day, and early in the morning after the trial Cain was put on the train for the penitentiary, to serve his sentence. I call that real justice, sure and swift as it should be. On April 19, 1895, the Assistant Surgeon, Harry M. Hallock and I, accompanied by our wives, went over the mountain road to Hill’s Hot Springs on the Gila River, about three miles below the coming together of the Middle and East Gila Rivers. I went to stay two months to complete the cure of my rheumatism by bathing in the hot springs, and Hallock went for one month’s outing. We travelled in a Daugherty wagon, and had an escort wagon to carry our baggage, also my horse. I took along with us a fine soldier field cook, plenty to eat, also the necessary tentage and cooking utensils, also 20 pounds of Lowney’s chocolate which was at that time sold in our commissary at 19 cents per pound. I got our good cook by persuad- ing the best cook in the company to take a furlough A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 211 for the necessary time. Of course I paid him for the work he did for me. We camped inside of Mr. Hill’s big yard. He was an old friend of mine, and a good hunter. I had been with him hunting several times. When, on this occasion, I asked him about game and its whereabouts, he replied, “Well, you know I am a game warden now, so you must take care not to let me see any of the deer you kill, ” and then he informed me as to the best hunting grounds. I was sorry I could not share with him my venison, but I did not tempt him. By that time I knew enough about hunting to avoid going straight towards any game that could see me, but instead to go obliquely in that direction, looking at the game out of the corner of my eye and keeping my gun out of sight, gradually getting closer and closer till near enough to shoot, and I practiced that method on lots of game, even on the openest sort of ground. My rheumatism had not entirely left me, so I bathed almost daily in the water of Hill’s Hot Springs, then I would mount my horse and ride many miles into the mountains alone. Till then I had not killed a bear, and because of having done so much poor hunting in those very mountains I was doubly anxious to kill one, and had become somewhat sensitive on the subject, no longer feeling any great hopes of killing one. One day, after being there several weeks, I rode ten or twelve miles up the river, then a mile or two away from the river, dismounted and followed some fresh bear tracks along the side of a steep and very deep canyon which had many tall pine trees scattered over the slopes of both sides. 212 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Soon after leaving the river I had seen the freshly killed body of a three year old cow which had its throat neatly cut by a panther, and I was very much on the lookout. The panther had left no tracks, but now I had some plain bear tracks to follow, and I looked hard for the big bear that had made the tracks. At length I saw what appeared to be a two year old calf, brown in color and lying down in the sunshine. I looked hard at the animal, which seemed to be alone, and I finally said to myself, “Well, you may be a bear, and if you are not one you are out of luck.” I then sat down at the foot of a small scrub oak tree and examined the sights of my rifle, got out an extra cartridge and settled down to take good aim, when, looking up I noticed that my animal had moved: it was really a bear and was standing behind a big pine tree, looking at me from the left side of the tree, part of its body being visible on the right side of the tree, his rump being nearest to me and not show- ing enough to shoot at. I quickly took good aim at the point in space where his heart should be as soon as he should move from behind the tree, and then I waited for him to move, resting my elbows on my knees, and as steady as a rock. There was no excite- ment this time. I had not long to wait, for a sudden movement of the animal put him where I could take good aim with- out hitting the tree, and I fired. At the report of my rifle another bear, a smaller and lighter colored one, ran fast up the mountain side, and my bear ran along the side of the canyon, making a terrible noise which resembled a combination of a bellow in pain and a roar of rage. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 213 I ran along my side of the canyon, trying to keep in sight of my wounded bear, which soon stopped in a thicket of small oak bushes, still making a noise which gradually lessened in volume and changed in character until it was only a low moan, and indicated that he was dying, which he did very soon, at least the noise ceased entirely. I then went down the deep and very steep hillside, went up the bed of the watercourse for about 100 yards, then climbed up the mountain side till I knew that I was higher than the bear, when I began to look for him. I found the bear very dead, his hind legs holding on in some strange way to one of the small oak bushes, thus preventing his rolling down the hill; this I made the body do by detaching it from every obstacle, and doing a little guiding myself. At the bottom I lost no time in drawing the bear, and then I tried to move him out of his blood. I could not budge the big animal an inch, although I was standing astride the body, with my hands grasping a firm hold on the inside of his brisket, and I exerted all my strength, which was then considerably above the average. The next morning I went back there with Mr. Hill and another hunter, and we brought away the hide. I got Mr. Hill to help me because I wanted a good pelt to send to the house of Leonhard Roos and Co. of St. Louis, to dress and mount for me. All this I afterwards did, and for many years that mounted grizzly bear skin was my pet pride. Porto Rico bugs finally chewed it up so that I was compelled to throw it away, to my great disappointment. While at that camp I hunted only when I needed meat for my camp, and four deer gave us some fresh meat during part of the two months of our stay. I 214 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY was not always lucky enough to kill a deer, even when hunting from that fine place. Several times Dr. Hallock went part of the way with me, and then he would stop and fish, and he was a good fisherman. My fine soldier cook, John Gant, had no whiskey available, and therefore he gave most satisfactory service. My sons, aged 4 and 1 respectively, had a beautiful time with their young nurse, the wife of a soldier. Time hung heaviest on Mrs. Crane and Mrs. Hallock, for they had no such love for the mountains as I did. We had several rides up the river, looking at the grand scenery, and investigating several cave, or cliff dwellings. One day, during the second month, Dr. Hallock and his wife having returned to Fort Bayard, a cavalry detachment of a sergeant and ten privates rode into my camp, and the sergeant reported for orders. I told him that I knew of no reason for his coming, and I inquired the new T s. He had none, so I showed him where to go into camp, and then I hastened to read my mail which he had brought me. I found that I had a new colonel, Jacob Ford Kent, and evidently a very kind and considerate commanding officer, because, having heard that there were some Indians in those mountains around me, he sent me that detach- ment to protect my camp. I will not forget it, es- pecially since I discovered that such kindness and consideration for his subordinates was the rule with Col. Kent, and not the exception. While the cavalry detachment was with us I took a mounted orderly hunting with me, to quiet the fears of my wife. And the cavalrymen had a small seine which they frequently used in the river, and they divided their fish with us. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 215 On one of our searches for cliff dwellings we found one which must have covered about 100 people. As in most of such places there were signs of fire having destroyed everything that would burn. We stayed out our time, having sent back to Fort Bayard for 10 pounds more chocolate to help us along, and we returned by our mountain road, much bene- fited by the outing. Two or three months later, early in October I believe, and perhaps including the latter part of September, we had our annual practice march. I was given two companies, and with wagon transporta- tion I was ordered to take the good wagon road through Silver City and go to Cooney, Arizona, in the Mogollon Mountains, there to meet Capt. W. H. W. James, 24th Infantry, and the other two companies, exchange transportation and continue on our respec- tive journeys, which meant that I would return to Bayard by the road just travelled by the other com- mand. The journey made by each command would then be a slightly flattened ellipse in shape. This was my old time comrade James, who served with me at Fort Duncan. I had about ten days in which to cover 100 miles before meeting him, and I did so in easy marches, toughening my men for the fast march after our separation. I walked all the way, and after getting into camp each day I did some hunting, getting at least one deer that I remember. We marched with flankers and other protecting parties, as required by our orders, which were to simulate war conditions. After stopping together one night on the beautiful stream at the very small place Cooney I took James’s pack outfit and started back to the post, using his 216 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY mountain trail and he taking my wagon road and wagons, and returning via Silver City. The two routes were of about equal length, but being high up in the mountains nearly all the distance my command had superb conditions for marching, while the other two companies had somewhat warm weather to march in. At that time the last 100 miles of our practice marches had to be executed in forced march, under simulated war conditions. Our first day’s march homeward called for a great deal of climbing, limiting our march to 17 miles. The next day, with an early start, fine weather and a good mountain trail, we would have made more than 30 miles but for our finding some Navajo Indians close to our trail. I believe that these were the same Indians that had caused my post commander to send that cavalry detachment to protect my camp at Hill’s Hot Springs during the summer. About 30 miles of very rough country separated the two localities. The Indians were located in a beautiful spot about 200 yards from my trail, and easily seen for more than a mile. I was leading my men, on foot and carrying a rifle, and on arriving about 200 yards from their camp I halted my men, took with me a squad of them and we com- pelled the Indians to break camp and start for their reservation without waiting for the return of their hunting parties which were absent at that time. After following them on my horse for about two miles so as to see that they were in earnest, I returned to my command, and we continued our march along our mountain trail. On the fifth day we made the last 17 miles into Fort Bayard, halted in the middle of the parade ground, and then Col. Kent came out and inspected us. We had, in the five days, made A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 217 about 124 miles, with great ease. Carrying a rifle all the time and walking at the head of the column, I set the pace and found no difficulty in doing so. Each day we marched from sunrise to sunset, halting about 30 minutes for lunch, and making very short hourly halts. I had only two officers with me, Lieut. Tayman and 2nd Lieut. Hunter B. Nelson. During the entire march Tayman made, from his horse, a road sketch and a fine one it was. I had left with Capt. James a couple of footsore men, and this made my return march much easier. James and his two companies arrived on the fifth night at Silver City, and marched in to the post the next morning. In my report of the march I recommended hence- forth the use of clothing and shelter tents of dead grass color, the first recommendation to that effect that I know of. The great visibility of my men at long distances had attracted my attention, and for many years I had been wearing hunting clothing of the color recommended, and I had noticed how difficult it was for game to see me. Later in the fall, sometime in October, Lieut. Archi- bald Cabaniss and his wife, with a detachment from his company, took a good hunt up in those same mountains. When they returned they brought with them a very large and beautiful grizzly bear skin, and a most interesting story regarding its capture. Here is the account, as I got it from the principal actor in the bear hunt, First Sergeant John Logan, a large, broad and powerful man, built more for strength than for speed. I visited Logan in the post hospital, and I saw where the bear had clawed and bitten him during their life and death struggle. According to Logan, he and Privates Emmet 218 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Hawkins and John Green were hunting deer and bear, carrying their serivce rifles, the Krag- Jorgenson of that date. Hawkins was a very fine shot, and Green was a very poor one. Logan was better than an average shot. They found a very large grizzly bear, shot at him many times, hit him several times, wounding him so as to greatly reduce his speed, thus enabling the men to gain on him in the running. Although the heaviest and naturally the slowest man in the party in an ordinary foot race, this ap- peared to be not that kind of a race, and somehow the First Sergeant found himself in the lead as they gained greatly on the bear, and as the chase was about to lead up a narrow canyon, a very crooked one, too. On making a very sharp turn Logan saw the wounded grizzly, only a few feet from him. The bear came at him, standing on his hind feet. Logan dropped his rifle and tried to climb the almost per- pendicular side of the canyon, and failing to retain his hold he dropped to the ground and could not evade, or escape from the bear, and they closed in a wrestle, man against bear. Logan put his right arm around the bear’s neck, and with his right hand he grasped and held away from him the bear’s jaw, the lower one. He got in close to the bear, after noticing that he was being clawed by the animal’s hind feet. After what seemed hours to Logan the other men turned the corner, promptly halted and began trying for a shot at the bear. Logan remembered that Green was a poor shot, and he feared than Green’s poor marksmanship would be worse for him than for the bear, so he called out, “Don’t let Green shoot, he’ll shoot me,” and he repeated his warning several times. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 219 But, during the many shots that were being fired from a safe distance Green found his opportunity and got in his shot, and Logan showed me where the bullet passed through the flesh of his right forearm, causing him to relax his grasp and give the bear a chance to bite his hand which was not neglected. The right hand was badly chewed up, and both legs were clawed in several places. The bear was finally killed, having received many wounds. The whole incident was a most creditable exhibition and proof of courage of the highest order, combined with cool discretion and good judgment. Not many men would have remembered that Green was such a poor shot. Unfortunately, Hawkins and Green did not have their share of the courage which Logan gave so fine an exhibition of. They preferred to allow Logan to beat them in the race after the bear, and having arrived on the battle field they preferred to fire from a safe distance. The bear’s skin, one of the largest I ever saw, was nailed on the outside of a small building that I passed by every day on my road from the Post Bakery to the barracks of “Company F. ” I was Post Treasurer, and daily inspected the bakery, and then I went from there to my company barracks. Remembering that I had put lots of salt on the inside of my bear hide, in order to keep the hair from coming off, I advised the same treatment in this case, although the weather was much cooler than it was when I killed my bear. Next morning, in passing by the bear skin, I noticed that instead of salt they had put ashes, lots of ashes, all over the inside of the skin. Knowing that ashes would cause every hair to fall off, I promptly told whoever was in charge of it that the ashes should be 220 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY carefully scraped off, and lots of salt immediately rubbed in, good and hard. Next day I saw ashes and salt all mixed together on the hide. I let it go, I meddled no more, and I soon saw that Logan’s beauti- ful bear skin was ruined. About this time there came to the regiment by promotion a new lieutenant colonel, Emerson H. Liscum. He was a mild mannered, blue eyed, heavy set and soldierly man, and an excellent officer. He gave our battalion its best instruction up to that date. Knowing that our companies frequently used the excellent terrain about Fort Bayard for various field exercises, he varied our instruction a little further. We had not then arrived at the point where we put everything in writing, and, generally speaking, made a formal and sometimes stiff proceeding of the various forms, or types of battle exercises. The following is a sample of his more direct and simple method, which, in my estimation, produced excellent results, and which should not be entirely ignored, even now. The battalion being formed, Col. Liscum called me to him and said, “Captain Crane, Captain James and three companies will proceed to Pinos Altos by the regular road and will start in exactly half an hour. With your company you go and waylay him some- where on the road. You have just half an hour’s start of him. Go ahead.’’ I started immediately, walking at the head of my company across country, to a high hill which I could see about five miles away and which I hoped to find close to the Pinos Altos road mentioned. I had never been there before. Going to the hill without halt and climbing it with A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 221 my company I was delighted to see that the road passed along its base and not more than 250 yards from the hilltop, and in plain view from the top of the hill. There I placed my men in carefully concealed position, and then waited for Capt. James, whose men finally came in sight about two miles off and approached in the typical march formation in hostile country, with point, advance guard, flankers, etc. We saw their rifles first, flashing in the sunlight as the men came along the crooked road through the short, scrub timber. I kept my men lying flat on the ground, and I kept myself equally well concealed. Their flankers stayed too close to the road and passed across our front, only 75 yards away, and they never investigated the top of the hill where we lay flat on the ground. When the main body was opposite our position, in fullest view and with no cover near, my company opened fire. Having no blank ammunition, with which to give notice of my whereabouts, I rose to my feet on the highest point of the hill, so as to let the enemy see where the fire came from, and then I yelled my com- mands at the top of my voice, “Commence firing,” after giving the range and class of fire to be used. My commands were plainly heard, and there was hurried and confused effort made by part of the main body, some to find cover and some to come straight at us. I had succeeded in waylaying the other three com- panies of the battalion, and we continued our day’s exercises by marching on to Pinos Altos and lunching there, all together. We then marched home the easiest way. On another occasion Col. Liscum said, “Capt. Crane, your company is the rear guard of a force 222 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY retreating on the road to Silver City (8 miles), and you have just half an hour’s start of me. I am coming after you with the other three companies. Go ahead.” And I went, and lost no time, but marched fast till I found a position suitable for a delaying fight. I made my first halt several miles away. I had not long to wait, for the other fellows marched fast, too, and I thought they came on too fast and without observing proper precautions in running on men in position. The delaying combat and the rapid retreat from one position to another soon carried us to the hills overlooking Silver City, and there we took half an hour’s rest and all marched home together. These exercises were not much for formality, but they were certainly instructive and interesting. With our companies we had, singly and more or less com- bined, quite a number of drills and exercises similar to the two described, all to our great benefit. The territory of that immediate vicinity lent itself per- fectly to that kind of work. The hill opposite the post, at the old ice house, was shaped like Majuba Hill was described to be, with rounded top which gave cover to the enemy at the base and during part of their ascent, and thus placed troops holding the hilltop at quite a disadvantage. More than once I took my company in skirmish line against that hill, previously explaining each time the resemblance to Majuba Hill, and the advantage given us by such a conformation of the earth. A few years afterwards I recognized another such shaped hill at San Juan Hill, Cuba, and I believe that our attacking troops were to much extent safe from the fire of the Spaniards who were on that hilltop. I was not at that battle, I regret to say. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 223 One of the many changes of the garrison brought us Capt. De Rudio, 7th Cavalry, who had been at Custer’s last battle, at the Little Big Horn River, and I enjoyed exceedingly his wonderful description of his personal experiences on that battle field. He was with Reno’s column that day, and Benteen’s column joined it after Reno’s people had been driven out of the river valley. In his story De Rudio became so intensely interested that his acting was better than any that I ever saw on the theatrical stage. He was a very interesting man. During the last half of my service at Fort Bayard I served with the 1st and 7th Cavalry, and with Capts. Jack Pitcher, De Rudio and J. G. Galbraith, and with their lieutenants, O. J. Brown, W. J. Glasgow, H. J. Slocum and others. In December of 1895 there occurred another small Indian outbreak down the Gila River, and cavalry was needed from Fort Bayard. De Rudio was await- ing retirement soon for age, and no other cavalry officer was present at the post, so, once again I rode with the cavalry. After retreat I was called to the office of the Commanding Officer and directed to make the necessary arrangements to start early next morning. Of course I did it, and on time I started, December 5th with 50 cavalrymen, and wagon trans- portation, rations and forage. I had all the available men from the two troops, there being other field work at that same time. I had no scout, nor guide, but we marched through Silver City, over the Burro Moun- tains and on towards the Gila River and Fort Grant, Arizona, to join in the hunt for some Indians that had killed an old man and his daughter. We went down the Gila and then up the San Fran- 224 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY cisco River, and up some other streams, and across some mountains, hoping that some good luck might throw us across the path of the Indians. We hunted them as we hunted deer. Only two Indians had been positively seen or in any way counted, and there were plenty of troops after them. Captain McCormick and his troop of the 7th Cavalry, from Fort Grant, provided with competent guides, was close on their trail. Those guides, or trailers, were excellent at such work, and with their assistance Capt. McCormick followed the trail of those two lone Indians for more than 50 miles, much of the time among rocks that to my eyes could show no trace of man or beast, especially if that beast wore only fresh raw hide shoes, as was the case. Several pairs of these worn out pieces of raw hide, taken from a freshly killed cow, were picked up, one after another, by McCormick’s people, and finally the sole horse of the two Indians, man and woman, was also found abandoned. The little black mare was too tired to travel any farther, but the Indians escaped, and left absolutely no trace of their movements. But with my men, without guide or trailer, I marched and looked and hunted, and saw no signs of Indians anywhere, and at the end of three weeks we were back at Fort Bayard, arriving there the day after Xmas. We passed through the town of Clifton, Arizona, and up one or two rivers, and all the time we hunted for Indians just as one does for dangerous game. I had in the beginning a fractious horse, a splendid traveller, but not accustomed to go in the lead. After passing through the town of Clifton I tried to overcome his fractiousness. I had quite a lively time with him, and had to give it up, after A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 225 getting a sprained foot as my share of the fun. I exchanged him for an animal that I could ride any- where. During those years at Fort Bayard I received several tokens of the high esteem in which I was held at the War Department. In 1892 I was given the detail of assistant to the Commanding Officer of the Columbian Guard at the Chicago Exposition. The order was issued, and then I was notified. But, hurriedly count- ing up the probable expense and my income while there, I was compelled to request that another officer be given that very desirable detail in my place, and it was done. The great cost of living in Chicago with my family caused me to make such request, and I have regretted it ever since, for I learned later on that my position carried with it an additional thousand dollars. In less than a year after declining that detail I was offered recruiting duty at David’s Island, now Fort Slocum, N. Y., and this too I declined. Within a very few more months the college detail at Auburn, Alabama, was offered me. This too, I declined, but feeling that my old time captain and good friend, Henry C. Corbin, then in the Adjutant General’s office at Washington, was responsible for such repeated instances of favorable appreciation I wrote to him and assured him that I was very grateful to the War Department, but that I did not, at that time, desire any duty away from my regiment; that I was a newly promoted captain and wished first of all to make a success of my duties. General Corbin answered my letter very kindly. In 1895 I received a letter from Major G. B. Davis, then in charge of the Rebellion Records, and after- 226 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY wards Judge Advocate General, informing me that because of my having evinced a desire to study the lessons taught in the campaigns of our great struggle, the Civil War, the War Department had selected me to receive one of the very few remaining sets of Re- bellion Records still available for distribution. I promptly wrote a letter of warm thanks, and very soon I received many volumes, and now I have the entire set, complete, including the maps, which I had bound in two separate volumes. Prior to the war with Spain I read in those interesting records a great deal, and I liked best that part devoted to short letters, telegrams, etc. Sometime in 1895 I had an interesting experience one day during the drill hour. I was about to drill the bat- talion, and the Adjutant, Lieut. Chas. Dodge, Jr., was about to present it to me when a shot was fired in one of the company barracks close to us. Seeing some signs of excitement in rear of the barracks, as though some one was attempting to escape, I turned the battalion over to the next ranking officer, Lieut. Dodge, and taking a rifle from a soldier I quickly rode to where I could learn what had occurred. From the rear of the barracks I could see a soldier running down a road, several hundred yards away. I learned that the shot had been fired by a soldier at a peace officer from the neighboring village of Central who had come to arrest him without first going to the soldier’s commanding officer for advice and assistance, as was the custom with well-informed peace officers. I galloped after the fugitive, but I soon lost sight of him when I got down in the valley. I guessed at the direction taken by the soldier, and went the wrong way, and finally circled around the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 227 spot where I had last seen him. At last I started back towards the post, right across the locality where I thought he had disappeared, and I searched well every bush and bunch of grass. I was rewarded by discovering him from his rear, his blue trousers seat sticking out from a clump of low bushes, his body and head being in the bushes, from which he was intently watching towards the post, from which direction it was soon shown that he saw coming to- wards him, in good skirmish line, an entire company, my own. I quickly dismounted when I saw him, about 75 yards away, and leaving my horse standing I walked straight at him with my rifle at a ready, moving quietly and quickly. I had arrived within 30 yards from him before he heard me and looked around. I quickly brought my rifle to my shoulder, aimed it at the soldier and then ordered him to drop his rifle and move away from it. I was advancing steadily all the time, and now I saw the skirmish line which he had been looking at through the bushes. The man’s rifle was full of cartridges, his belt was full and he had several cartridges in his hand when he rose to his feet. All this showed his intention of fighting, and after he was carried to the guard house he told how he would have shot Capt. Crane if an opportunity had presented itself. I had had him with me as a teamster once when out hunting, and we had not pleased each other. But I did not know who I was hunting until he rose from that bush. A most interesting feature of the country around Fort Bayard was the evidence of former inhabitants, both cliff dwellers and valley dwellers. Within the narrow limits of the post itself were found the indica- tions of the foundations of old time houses made of 228 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY rocks and some sort of a cement to hold them together, and a little digging brought to light specimens of old time pottery, stone hammers, parts of skeletons and charred pieces of Indian corn. The same signs of a former race were found in the caves and cliffs along the Gila River. In the valleys former residences were in- dicated by lines of rocks on the ground, arranged so as to resemble the foundations of a house, and such indications could be found in many valleys. Houses, or walls of houses made of stone and cement were, and must still be plentiful in the caves and cliffs along the Gila River. During my two months at Hill’s Hot Springs in 1895, while riding up the river valley one day with my wife and elder son, I saw a big cave, and climbing up to it I found an immense vault in the side of the bluff, more than 15 feet high at the front, and extending back from twenty to forty yards into the side of the bluff, and about an equal distance along the face of the bluff. In this space we saw a series of houses without tops, all connected to- gether by doors about two and a half feet high and two feet wide. Inside we found charred pieces of wood and charred ears of corn. We did no digging. From 50 to 100 cliff dwellers must have lived there, long, long time ago. The belief in that country is, or was, that the Chiricahua Indians drove those settlers away from the valleys, and then from the cliffs up to where the Moqui and Zuni Indians now live. On another occasion, a day or two later, I climbed up into another cave where I found one or two houses and some deeper recesses in the wall of the bluff which I did not like the odor of. Perhaps I smelled only a bat cave, but I saw no bats, and it might have been a bear cave. I had my shot gun and very little room in A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 229 which to move about in case of trouble with “Old Eph,” so, I did not investigate very fully the bad smelling cave. In leaving the cave I had to go down into the top of a tree and my gun made that kind of work quite awkward. Those cliff dwellers must have had the art of making a cement which has stood the test of a long time, but the perfect specimens of cement were always in the cliffs where the rain could not wet anything. I often think of two occasions when something good to eat seemed unusually good. In 1891 I went down below the post into the prairie fifteen or twenty miles, to the little house of a young man named Loomis, who was to show me some antelope. He showed me the game all right, and I killed three with- out moving out of my position, and then we brought them back to the house, where Mr. Loomis said that he would get dinner ready for us. In a very short time he cooked some of the best “spoon bread,” he called it. He did not put a hand to the dough, using only a spoon, but it puffed up and stayed up, and was deli- cious bread. The young man was of good stock, having been in the law office of General John M. Palmer, of Illinois, at one time, having then the idea of being a lawyer. The other occasion was in the fall of 1895, when I went with Lieutenants Jenks, Laws and Price over the mountains to the Sapillo Creek. We picked up Strat Biddle, the brother of the Army Biddles, and then we moved on down the Sapillo to the Culberson ranch, and camped a couple of miles below it. Find- ing game too scarce for so many, Strat Biddle borrowed from the ranch an old aparejo pack saddle and packed one of our wagon mules with stuff for three of us, and 230 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY he did it the best I ever saw. Then Price, Biddle and I walked over the mountain to the Gila River, leading the packed mule. We returned in a day or two by the same trail, and all of us had the finest of appetites and enough hunger to satisfy any cook. Biddle sug- gested that we stop at his place on the Sapillo as we returned home. He thought that he could cook the Mexican frijole (large, brown bean) so as to tempt our appetite, and then satisfy it. He was right. I never, before or since, tasted such fine beans as those Strat Biddle cooked for us that day. I don’t remember what he did to them, but I still remember the great satisfaction given all of us. Biddle also shod several of our mules, cowboy fashion, using implements found at the ranch, and shoes from the wagon box. He was very versatile. I believe he afterwards went to Johannisberg, South Africa. For years I had worn, while hunting, clothing of dead grass color, because of its great invisibility which enabled me to get close to whatever I happened to be hunting. Many hunts justified my selection of this color, especially my last big hunt from Fort Bayard, in the latter part of November, 1895. On this hunt I took with me my second lieutenant, J. N. Augustin, Jr. We went south through Separ to the Animas Valley, and camped the latter half of our time at or near the old Lang ranch, not far from the Mexican border. We had wasted the first half of our time hunting deer in the mountains without even seeing a single one, and then we went down into the valley to hunt antelope. My men had good luck while hunting in the valley, after our change of camp, but I did some very poor shooting till the afternoon of the very last day of our hunt from that camp, and it was my dead A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 231 grass colored clothing that saved my reputation as a hunter on that trip. Late in the afternoon, while standing in a place where I could see for miles and miles, and with hardly a sprig of grass to hide even my shoes, I saw several antelope coming in my direction from the opposite side of the valley, two antelope being followed at some distance by a third one. I stood motionless, waiting to see if they would come near enough to allow me a shot at them, and I was surprised to note how straight towards me they were coming. Of course I stood as still and motionless as I possibly could, with my rifle at the ready, while I watched the antelope approaching. The leading couple veered off to their right when about 200 yards away from me, but, noting that the one in rear was still coming my way I waited for him, and that antelope came so straight at me that I thought he would pass in five or ten feet of me. But, when about fifty yards from me he saw me, apparently for the first time, and then he turned squarely to his right with increased speed. I aimed ahead of him, and my bullet hit his hip, so fast was he running. Nothing but my old suit of dead grass colored clothing saved me that time, and kept my men from losing confidence in my hunting. They had killed nine or ten of the beautiful prairie animals now disappearing so fast. My hunting experiences proved to me the great value of having service military clothing of an invisible color, and I therefore recommended it. On this hunt I took along my man Beckam, intend- ing to give him some valuable experience in the field, still training him to be first sergeant some day. Fort Bayard was a fine place to bring up a growing 232 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY family. The colored women that followed the 24th Infantry furnished always good material for cooks, nurses and laundresses, thus insuring much needed assistance. We had the same nurse for the first month of each of our boys, and the same woman was now and then our cook, a fine one, too. Another woman, the wife of another band man, was our cook for more than two years. The daughter of a third band man was nurse for several years, nursing both boys. My mother visited us twice at Fort Bayard, the second time being when Carey was about four years old. She went with Mrs. Markley to Rogers’ ranch one day, and they took Carey with them, also a lunch. When they returned the child showed plainly that his lunch had not agreed with him, so I asked my mother what the boy had eaten. She was surprised, and answered, “Oh, nothing. Only what we ate.” When pinned down to actual fact my mother had to acknowl- edge that she had given a four -year-old child some nice tender veal ! When I expressed my astonishment she said, “Why, I gave Carey Rippeteau (another grandson) fried oysters when he was only one year old.” But, she had to confess that fried oysters had made the one-year-old boy just a little sick! Grand- mothers forget a great deal about the bringing up of children, and are inclined to give a child whatever the little one begs for. I did not get to the World’s Fair at Chicago, but my wife went. She also went on a good leave of absence just prior to our departure from Bayard. Her mother, father and sister Henrietta visited us, both at Fort Bayard and Fort Douglas. Altogether, my service at Fort Bayard was very pleasant, and the six years that I spent there were A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 233 the happiest of my life. My commanding officers appreciated me, and my brother officers were my friends. I always worked hard at my military duties, so hard that I needed rest and recreation, and luckily I could find the kind I liked best near that station. Hunting was very good in many localities around Bayard, and not very far away. Besides the grizzly previously mentioned I killed during my six years of service there, 15 deer, 6 antelope, 10 turkeys, 656 quail, 2 coyotes, 125 ducks, many doves, some snipes, grey mountain squirrels, wild pigeons and rabbits. All this game made my meat bill much smaller, and my meat diet much better. I always divided gener- ously the results of my hunts among my fellow officers. I never had to throw away any of the game I killed. Any meat that we bought, outside of what we bought from the contractor for the Army, came from Silver City. Capt. C. C. Hood wished to get from our Silver City grocer an especially nice piece of mutton, and he wanted to be sure that it was to be sheep mutton, not goat mutton which he knew was very easy to get, and which he imagined was an infer- ior kind of meat. So, he cautioned the grocer to be very careful and to give him real sheep, not goat, add- ing that he had heard that this was sometimes done in Silver City. The grocer laughed and said, “ Capt. Hood, I thought you understood. I have sold you nothing but goat meat. We have no sheep in this part of the country, so, by courtesy we call our goat meat ‘mutton,’ and there’s mighty little difference. If you want some very fine goat meat I can furnish it, but I have no mutton to sell you.” Capt. Hood took the goat mutton, and was very glad to get it, and afterwards 234 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY he told the story on himself with much satisfaction. From experience I know that it is practically impossi- ble to distinguish goat meat from that of the sheep, if cooked in the same way and if young, and I ate lots of fine goat “mutton” at Fort Bayard. Bayard was the healthiest post that I ever served at. My small family thrived there, my two sons grew up healthy and strong, and the time had not yet arrived when our people had run society mad, using up an officer’s money frivolously. I derived great pleasure from taking young officers with me on long camp hunts, and during this sport I thought that I got quite a good idea as to what kind of a man the youngster would be a little later. Really, I believe that a man shows some of his best and some of his worst qualities while working hard in hunting, eating somewhat irregularly, and shooting poorly, along with his hunting comrades. If one is a good hunting companion, one is apt to have some other good qualities. But, while actually hunting, I never wanted to be with any one. I never found any animal game so plentiful so as to be enough for two hunters, and I have not hunted any game that was so danger- ous as to require two hunters to handle it. During the summer of 1896 our excellent colonel, Jacob Ford Kent, informed the regiment that we would soon be moved to other stations, and that we could practically select our own post west of the Mississippi River. He had his adjutant circulate a paper calling on each officer to indicate thereon his preference between Fort Snelling, Angel Island, Vancouver Barracks and Fort Douglas. A safe majority voted for Fort Douglas, Utah, knowing that the colonel had named the most desirable posts west A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 235 of the Mississippi; at least we fully agreed with his selections for us to choose from. Before the summer was over the order directing the change of station was received, as predicted by our colonel, and my company was selected to go ahead and take over the care of Fort Douglas pending the arrival of the regiment. I considered this action quite complimentary to my company and to me, and I was therefore glad to be thus singled out. So, with Company “F,” 24th Infantry, and my lieutenants, Tayman and Augustin, and their wives, I started for Fort Douglas about the middle of October, 1896, my wife being absent on leave at her father’s home in Lancaster, Pa. We were a very happy crowd as we went to what we considered our first real nice post for the 24th Infantry. Before we started we heard of a monster petition being gotten up by the citizens of Utah, requesting that the 24th Infantry be not sent to Fort Douglas. That hurt our feelings very much, for the regiment was very proud of its discipline and efficiency, and justly so. All the same, we were mighty glad to go to a first class post. We were to relieve the — th Infantry of all duties there until the arrival of our own regiment, but when we got to Fort Douglas we found a lieutenant colonel and one company waiting for us, and they would not transfer and leave. The other man was my senior. During our week of waiting the captain of the — th Infantry did not come near one of us, nor of our temporary quarters, for he carefully went out of his way to avoid us. I never forgave that officer, and I was delighted when, a little later, he was promoted into a colored regiment. CHAPTER VIII As explained in the previous chapter I was sent ahead of the regiment with my company, including my lieutenants, Tayman and Augustin, who had their wives with them. In addition to the very unsatis- factory condition of the buildings vacated for us by the — th Infantry, there was a most unfavorable impression, or opinion of colored troops awaiting our arrival. We had already heard of this feeling, and of petitions against our coming, and of the signatures of many thousands to said papers, all before leaving Bayard; naturally, it would have been very easy to pick a quarrel with us. On detraining at Salt Lake City I marched my company in utter silence, without a halt, through the streets and until we had passed the last house of the city, at least two miles and a half. I halted my com- pany in the middle of the post parade ground, and was immediately joined there by the acting adjutant who did his best to make us comfortable. The 24th Infantry having fully settled down to business at Fort Douglas, we had little difficulty in wiping away all previously conceived unfavorable impressions, and w r e were not long in learning that the drill and conduct of our men had made an excellent impression, as compared with former garrisons. The 236 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 237 regiment was concentrated at one post, for the first time in many years, but, owing to the queer change made not long before in the organization of a regiment, we had only eight full companies, the other two being skeleton companies, to which all absent officers were transferred. In those days an infantry regiment contained only ten companies, artillery and cavalry regiments having twelve. Fort Douglas was deservedly popular. We soon grew to be very fond of the post, in spite of the bitter taste in our mouths on arrival there. We found a very agreeable set of Gentiles in Salt Lake City, and the Mormons also treated us very cordially. But we liked the Gentile set best, although we met the very best of the Mormon families. The post was located at the foot of a high mountain range, and about four miles from the railroad depot in the city, and there were two lines of street cars, running at 30 minutes’ interval on each line, giving 15 minutes between cars. We could turn our backs on the city, if we wished, and be in the mountains, and in a few miles we could find good game. Getting tired of that we could enjoy the pleasures and advantages of a flourishing and prosperous, wide awake city, and a most beautiful one, too. The great breadth given the streets added to their beauty, and surely increased the cost of the pavements, and the taxes to raise the necessary money. There were two places on the lake where excellent facilities for bathing were provided. But, Garfield Beach, the place prepared by the Gentiles, was about five miles farther than Salt Air, the work of the Mor- mon Church, and the latter place was greatly superior in size and conveniences. The water of Salt Lake is the saltiest that I ever saw, and the easiest to float in, 238 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY besides giving the best appetite for the swimmer therein. We were not long in visiting the Mormon Taber- nacle, an immense building w T ith wonderful acoustic properties, and with no second floor, no uprights except along the walls of the house, the oval shaped ceiling being held in place, like that of the Salt Air pavillion, by a series of parallel systems of bridge trusses, all visible. In leaving Fort Bayard in October I had lost the opportunity of a good fall hunt from that post, but I did not lose my hunt altogether. From Fort Douglas I went, accompanied by Lieut. John Gurney, 24th Infantry, leaving about November 6th on a twelve days’ hunt and going northward to Bear River, and camping in the snow every night out. We found a few sage chickens and ducks, and lots of rabbits. Our game froze stiff after a few 7 hours in the night air while hanging over the snow, and it did not thaw until warmed by the heat of a house, after our return to the post. When we left the post we saw only big, brown rabbits, or hares, but in returning, during the last three or four days out, we saw only white rabbits, the animals having changed color with the arrival of snow and cold weather. It was very difficult to detect one of those big white rabbits hidden under a sage bush all covered with snow. It was about November 18th when we arrived at the post, and the sage chickens should have had the taste of sage at that time of the year, but they did not. I believe that the freezing of the birds took away the taste of sage from the sage chickens, and the taste of fish from some fish ducks which we brought home because our hunt had not A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 239 been a very successful one, so far as concerned tbe amount of game brought home. Our hunt had been a very enjoyable one. I found Lieut. Gurney to be fully as aggressive and untiring as Lieut. Price had been. Neither Gurney nor I were addicted to strong drink, but as we travelled northward into a con- stantly increasing cold, it occurred to us that we ought to have some stimulant with us. But the idea did not really find expression until we were leaving the last small town that we would see until we should return, and, even then our dull wits had to be waked up by the sight of the sign, on the last house of the town, “Last Chance.” Such a sign is, or used to be, on each saloon located as the one before us on that occasion. The reverse side of the signboard had “First Chance.” I never knew whiskey to be more welcome than was that quart bottle of “Jersey Lightning” during that hunt of ours. Gurney and I would return from hunt- ing each day all hanging with icicles and at the same time with wet underclothing from perspiration caused by hard work. The inside of our tent was covered with snow which did not disappear with the lighting of a fire in our small Sibley stove. But, while the fire was heating that small tent, and while we were chang- ing our underclothing and hanging up the wet articles to dry, a strong drink of that same “Jersey Lightning ” certainly hit the right spot. I guess it was good that we had only one bottle. The slopes and mountains in the immediate vicinity of Fort Douglas gave good opportunity for field exercises, which, however, did not compare with what we had left at Fort Bayard. We had a number of very interesting exercises, using the ground as we found it. 240 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY In the summer of 1897 seven companies of us, under Lieut. Col. Liscum, marched about 100 miles over to Strawberry Valley, and camped for some fifteen days at Sugar Springs, in a beautiful valley through which ran a bold stream full of fish. Sugar Springs water was very cold, and most satisfactory in every way. We worked the first half of each day at some military problem, just as we had done years before at our camp on the Sapillo Creek, and I spent the second half of each day in hunting, and I found good sage chicken hunting, also a few w'illow grouse, and some pretty fair duck shooting. My friend Augur enjoyed himself fishing. Our mess was much benefited by our activi- ties after mid-day. After a most enjoyable official outing we began our march home, travelling a different route. I was informed by Col. Liscum that my battalion, under my command, would be in the lead. We still had the orders to make the last half of our marches under forced march conditions. I was delighted to have my company in the lead. For two years some of the officers of the regiment, especially Augur and Keene, had expressed considerable doubt as to my two com- panies having averaged 30 miles a day for three days on our returning from Cooney in 1895, and now was my opportunity to make good, and make those doubters stop talking. So I got permission from Col. Liscum to do some fast and long marching, promising to lead the march on foot, and I warned the “Doubt- ing Thomases” to get ready, telling them that I was going to lead them at least 30 miles a day until they acknowledged themselves wrong regarding my prac- tice march performance two years before. They laughed. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 241 I was always a good marcher, and, although 45 years old at that time, I was in the pink of condition, just as I had been on the previous march when we made our fine record, so that I was sure that I would win, and I warned my battalion as to what I was going to do. Before sunrise the next morning we began the first day’s march homeward with a step and cadence that made miles pass very fast to the rear. Soon the “Thomas” crowd were grumbling, and growling, “What’s the use, etc,” and each time my answer was, “You doubted our marching 30 miles a day for three days, and I am going to show you, right now, before we get home.” We marched very fast, making the regulation halts, till we stopped for one of them about 2 p.m. on a beautiful stream, at a typical place for a good camp site, after marching about 25 miles. The clamor, for a halt for the day, and an end to that day’s march grew loud and strong. After I had made each of the doubting officers acknowledge that my two companies did march 30 miles a day for three days, as claimed by me, I requested Col. Liscum to allow us to go into camp on the ground where we were then, and this he willingly granted. He seemed to enjoy my having beaten the other officers regarding that much dis- cussed march, when Lieut. H. B. Nelson had walked with me, and Lieut. Tayman had, from his horse’s back, made a fine road sketch of the entire distance marched, and they too enjoyed the discomfiture of the doubters. Our return march to Fort Douglas was also being made under forced march conditions, and our road carried us through some very interesting country. Utah had much unoccupied country, in fact almost 242 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the only land that can be cultivated must lie along big creek and river valleys that can be irrigated, and the Mormons are past masters in that art. Our practice march was made in August, it being pleasant marching during that month in northern Utah. Dur- ing our stay in camp at Sugar Springs we had thin ice every morning in our water just outside each tent. On September 22nd, 1897, Capt. H. S. Wygant, Lieut. John Gurney and I started on a month’s hunt, with wagon transportation and a good detach- ment of enlisted men. Gurney and I rode horseback, and Wygant went in the wagon. I rode one of the horses that I bought at Fort Bayard when I reported for duty as adjutant, and Gurney rode a pony that he rented for the entire hunting trip for $15, with the privilege of buying the horse for $15 more at the end of the trip. The pony was easily worth $75 at present day prices. We headed towards old Fort Bridger, Utah, where Albert Sydney Johnston’s army wintered during the troubles with Utah in 1857-8. About the second or third night out from Fort Douglas, we talked with a very pleasant postmaster who had three years before hunted in the neighborhood of Fish Lake, in Wyoming but close to the Idaho line, and that gentleman gave us such a glowing description of what he saw and did that we changed our minds. Our informant had killed bears, elks and deer, besides catching all the big mountain trout that he wished. So we went to Fish Lake, and found the water and the fish as described, also the grouse, but we also found what our Mormon friend had not seen there, and our hunt was not what we had hoped for. Great flocks of sheep start every spring from southern Utah, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 243 graze northward during the summer and finally reach the country immediately south of Jackson’s Hole, which is just south of Yellowstone Park. Sometime in September these sheep start back home, grazing as they go, but they stay north long enough to drive away from the country grazed over all game animals, except, perhaps, those of the cat tribes that live to some extent upon the sheep themselves. So, we found no cloven footed game, nor bears, the sheep having eaten up all the food which such animals depended upon, but birds and fish were plentiful. Fish Lake was about three miles long and about 400 yards wide at its widest part. It had been formed by the damming up of a bold mountain stream, this damming having occurred during some upheaval of nature long, long time ago. Right across the stream and hundreds of feet high and half a mile long, was this immense dam. But, notwithstanding the thick- ness of the dam, the water went on through, and our camp was at the confluence of that creek and a bigger one which our road had been following. Gurney and some of the men, assisted by Wygant, caught lots of beautiful spotted mountain trout about two pounds each. We had trout every day at every meal, after catch- ing the first fish, and when we started home we carried with us enough for a couple of days’ eating. Each of us ate at each meal two of those fine trout. The grouse found there, and called blue grouse, pine hen and fool hen were very abundant, and we killed a good many, also a few ducks, but we could not find a spot anywhere which had not been tramped over by sheep. Several times I was much disappointed to find, after 244 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY climbing for hours to get to a pretty spot, that sheep had been there before me and had spoiled the grazing for all cloven footed animals. Several times Gurney urged me to go with him, using one of the wagon mules as Price and I did once with Strat Biddle to do the scientific packing for us, and I have always regretted that I did not do so. We should have packed one or two mules with the necessary camp articles for three or four days hunting, and then we should have struck out for farther north, but for some reason which seemed good at the time we did not do so. We should have, at least, ridden off on our horses with what we could carry behind us, and have stayed out one night, but we did not even do that. I have never forgiven myself. We returned home much disappointed, but en route we succeeded in killing quite a number of fine birds, including willow grouse, sage chickens, ducks and one goose, the biggest I ever saw. We were 28 days absent on what should have been the finest hunt of my life, and it would have been, but for those sheep which had been everywhere. At Fort Douglas, in our quarters, we gave up one room to the boys as a play room. There they kept all the play toys of every description, and they spent much of their time in that room, especially in the winter, amusing themselves with their various toys and picture books. In addition, I was teaching the elder boy to read and write, while the little fellow lis- tened and absorbed much from that. From picture books and books about animals I explained about many of the most interesting animals and birds of the world, and from books of adventure and those concern- ing the deeds of daring and brave men I selected interesting passages and read them aloud time and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 245 time again, so as to compel my boys to remember. Of Andrew Jackson, David Crockett and many other such men I told them all the stories I could find, and we wore out one copy of “Uncle Remus.” The boys remembered much of what I had told and read to them, as will be seen from the two following illustrations. Of Andrew Jackson I told many times about his duel with Charles Dickinson, and of his fight with, and attempted horse whipping of, Thomas H. Benton, at Nashville, and how Benton gave Jackson that danger- ous wound which almost prevented the latter from commanding the Tennessee militia and volunteers in the celebrated campaign against the Creek Indians. My description included the part played by Jackson’s good friend, General Coffee. One day, during the winter of 1896-7, while the boys were busy in their play room, their mother happened to pass in front of the door, which was partly open. Hearing them talking in rather an animated manner she stopped and listened, and this was what she saw and heard. The boys were standing up. Carey had in his hand something which he apparently intended should represent a whip, and he said, “Good morning, Sir. I have come to horsewhip you, Mr. Benton.” Evidently the younger brother did not like the idea of receiving the rough treatment which seemed to threaten him, and he was equal to the occasion, for he replied, “No, no, I’m not Tom Benton, I’ll be your Coffee.” It will be remembered that on that occasion, Gen. Coffee accompanied Gen. Jackson, took part in the general mixup and saved the life of his chief and best 246 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY friend. Mitchell got no cowhiding from his big brother that day. Again, several years later, I took both boys to see that fine light opera “Robin Hood,” in New York, and we listened to the very entertaining performance given by the great theatrical company of many years ago, with Barnaby and others in it. After listening nearly through, the big boy remarked, “He didn’t follow the book, that man wasn’t a coward, for he went out to fight.” He remembered well what his little book said about it. In Salt Lake City there were several places where we could see some fine specimens of heads and pelts of wild animals, and I took much pleasure taking the boys to examine the interesting specimens. From their books and those specimens they got to know each head and picture. They could distinguish the moose from the elk and the beaver from the otter, and give the reason in each case. On Thanksgiving Day, in 1897, with my permission, a number of the best shots in my company went to town and won a lot of turkeys from the civilians by their good shooting, taking their service rifles with them. On Xmas day I found myself alone in the house about 4 p.m., excepting the big boy, and I happened to remember that I had given permission to my good shots to go again and try for turkeys. I put several cartridges in my pocket, called my son Carey, and then we went to hunt for the place where the shooting for turkeys was going on. After much inquiry and a good deal of travel, we found the place. They were having a hard time getting the civilians to shoot against my men. To fill out the required number, and to keep the ball rolling, I bought two A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 247 chances for 50 cents, then I borrowed a soldier’s rifle, shot against my own men, and won, both my shots being better than all the others. After half an hour or so, I had to join in again, in order to make the necessary number taking and paying chances, each turkey being valued at $2., and again I won a turkey. I had spent one dollar, and had won two live turkeys, and had the satisfaction of having beaten some of the best shots in the 24th Infantry in shooting with their own rifles. My own men would gladly have allowed me to win one turkey, but not two in succession. They tried hard, always, to beat me shooting, and some of them did it. We enjoyed our service at Fort Douglas very much. The bathing in the lake was something wonderful. That water is so strong and pungent that it really hurts the eye if it gets in, and it is so buoyant that one can hardly sink in it. I could lie on my back motion- less as long as I pleased, even with my small boy sitting on my chest. Sometimes our mixed party of officers and ladies would amuse themselves by lying on their backs, each with toes under the armpits of some other, and holding under our own armpits the toes of some one else, and then moving about in the water, like a snake. After a swim in that water our appetites were ravenous, and our lunches disappeared rapidly. Among the civilians at Salt Lake City I enjoyed the acquaintance of the Browning brothers very much indeed, especially that of the great inventor. My old- time friend, Capt. Geo. Albee., U. S. Army, Retired, the same man that was my stage companion from Fort Ringgold to Laredo in December, 1879, wrote to me as soon as he knew of my going to Fort Douglas. For many years he had been an expert in the Winchester 248 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Small Arms Co., and he knew of my love for a good rifle. Albee wrote, “Be sure to hunt up the inventor, Browning; he knows more about a rifle than any man I ever met.” I frequently visited the big store of the Browning Brothers in Salt Lake City, where I was always sure to meet at least one of the brothers. They had another store at Ogden, and sometimes the in- ventor was at one place, and again at the other. I had many talks with two of the brothers, especially the inventor. I saw and talked with the inventor just prior to that trip sometime in 1897, and he told me that he was not going to sell his automatic pistol outright to any firm, that he was tired of doing that, having furnished for ten years to the Winchester Small Arms Co. practically all their improvements in small arms. He said that he was going to retain a string on his automatic pistol. I hunted him up again, as soon as he had returned from his trip. He said that he had retained a royalty in selling to the Colts Small Arms Co., but that in Europe had to sell outright, and he sold to a Liege firm. We frequently see specimens from that firm. With his automatic rifle and his machine gun he gave us weapons in the World War which were superior to any in the hands of the Ger- mans. He is liable to still further distinguish himself by great inventions in firearms. We grew to be very fond of our civilian friends in the city. They had grown to like us, too, and they had reconsidered their opinion regarding colored troops. The 24th Infantry stood very high in Salt Lake City when the order came, starting us to Chickamauga Park Ga., on the 21st of April, 1898. CHAPTER IX I have not heard of such an ovation as we received as we left for the Spanish War. Evidently the people of Salt Lake City had very greatly changed their ideas relative to at least one colored regiment. We left our families at Fort Douglas, and some of our crowd never returned. I had no doubt that I would win a brigadier general’s star, and I suppose that others were equally hopeful. I firmly believed that mine was the best company in the 24th Infantry, and our regiment the best in the service. We had been working hard and consistently for many years, and the result seemed to satisfy our expectations. Whenever and wherever stationed with other troops, we felt better drilled and better disciplined. I considered as sure of promotion the officer who should command the regiment in battle, and I told my colonel so. As we passed through several states en route to Chickamauga Park it was instructive to note the sentiments of the people as shown by the mottos and inscriptions everywhere. I saw no mention of the “poor Cuban,” but many times I read “Remember the Maine.” We passed through Memphis, Tenn., and northern Mississippi as we travelled towards Chattanooga. About 8 p.m., after leaving Memphis, 249 250 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I waked up from a short sleep and noticed that we had stopped. I went outside and saw at the small station several civilians and a party of girls with flowers. I inquired of the nearest civilian where we were, and he informed me that we were at Coldwater, Miss. I then remembered that we had lived in north Mississippi, and I thought that the name “Cold- water” sounded familiar to me, so I then asked how far we were from Memphis, and learned that it was only 25 or 30 miles, which cleared up my ideas com- pletely. I remembered names of people and places connected with my childhood in that immediate vicinity. I remarked that I used to live nearby. The civilian was not much interested as he inquired as to when and where. I told him that I was born at Hernando, and had lived at Center Hill, where there used to be good schools. This brought from him, “Indeed?” “Yes,” I continued, “there was a little railroad station only four or five miles from here called “Brays Station,” and Center Hill is only three or four miles from there, and there is a Coldwater Creek and a Nonconna Creek close to Center Hill.” And when he inquired as to whether I remembered the name of any man or family about there I said, “Yes, a big boy named Bob Paine, seven or eight years older than I was, used to allow me to follow him when hunting,” and then I told the man my father’s name, and that he had been for years the leading Baptist preacher and teacher in that section. “Come here, Sis,” the man called out to one of the girls, “this man is one of us, give him your flowers,” and in this manner I became the recipient of about the only flowers given to colored troops at that station. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 251 At some small station that night I took a big bottle of whiskey from an enlisted man, and threw it away, and afterwards I learned that the liquor belonged to one of our young officers. It served him right. At Chickamauga Park we found many other regi- ments of regulars, all under the command of General John R. Brooke. We saw there an unusually fine looking body of men, in excellent condition as far as I could determine. During our two weeks’ stay there we were busy drilling, and while marching my com- pany in skirmish line all over the great battle field of Chickamauga we halted many times to examine the battle monuments. Snodgrass Hill, where General George H. Thomas made his famous stand, was easily distinguishable as a most important position. I made no study of the battle field, but I was certainly very much interested in noting the various locations and the monuments found there. About the first of May the regiment went to Tampa, Fla., where we drilled more and enjoyed the heat less. Our comrades back at Chickamauga thought that we were going to Cuba ahead of them, and they envied us our good luck. At Tampa Bay Hotel I frequently swam in the big pool, surrounded by many enlisted men, and some- times a few officers. I looked hard at the faces of those men in the water, and it was impossible to pick out the officers, all being strangers. I saw our Ameri- can soldiers on the streets all the time, and I admired them as I had never done before. I then remarked to some of our 24th Infantry officers, “I am not sure that we have not been sleeping, just a little. These men are at least our equals as soldiers.” My 2nd Lieutenant, J. N. Augustin, Jr., was from 252 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY New Orleans, and he received a letter from his father telling him to be sure to look up Alphonse Denis in Tampa. Mr. Denis was also from New Orleans, and an old friend of the Augustin family. The young man was prompt to comply with his father’s request, and soon he had several of us with him at the residence of his friend where we enjoyed most delightful hospitality. My lieutenants messed with me, and twice the Denis family furnished us with a complete dinner, hot from the Denis kitchen, once a turkey dinner, and the next time a fish dinner, each time including the best vegetables of the season. I was again very glad to have young Augustin for my lieutenant. Mrs. Denis was Spanish, and had father and brothers in Havana, in the Spanish army. I got from her the home address of her father in Havana, and promised to protect it when we entered that city. I firmly believed that we would be in the besieging army around Havana. Mrs. Denis was very bright, and she held her own in talking with us about the war. On one occasion an officer said, “We don’t want your little island, we don’t need it.” Quick as thought she asked, “I suppose you never did want Cuba?” To this the officer replied, “No, of course not, what should we want it for?” “ Wait a minute,” said Mrs. Denis, and in less than a minute she brought from another room an old official- looking paper. “Now, read that, and see if the United States never wanted Cuba.” We passed the paper around and were very much interested, and then the same officer remarked, “Well, our President may have wanted Cuba then, but we don’t want it now.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 253 The paper, as I remember it, was the original of a letter addressed to Pierre Soule, our former Minister to Spain, and it was signed by James Buchanan, then Secretary of State. The letter directed Mr. Soule to offer Spain two hundred million dollars for the island of Cuba. “Now, what do you think ? Did you never want Cuba?” We had to acknowledged that we had no reply to make. We had not read that letter in our school history, nor in any other. While waiting at Tampa we watched very closely the progress of the Bills in Congress affecting the Army, one of which provided for raising ten regiments of United States Volunteer Infantry, and two of Engineers. The infantry regiments were afterwards called “immunes.” I never heard that the Engineers were called by that misnomer. One night, while talking with Capt. Dodge and other officers of the regiment, I learned, or was reminded, that the Bill had been passed, and that six colonels had been appointed. I said nothing of my intentions, but that same night I wrote my official application for the colonelcy of one of those regiments, worded like this: “I have the honor to request that I may be appoint- ed colonel of one of the regiments of United States Volunteer Infantry, just authorized by Congress. My record of over twenty years’ service is in your office.” Early the next morning I took my letter to the regimental commander, Lieut. Col. Liscum, and got from him a very strong endorsement containing words like these: “I do not know of any officer who is better 254 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY qualified than Capt. Crane to quickly put a regiment of volunteers in good shape.” I then carried the paper to my brigade commander, Col. J. F. Kent, who also gave me a very favorable endorsement. Then I took the paper the same afternoon to the division commander, my former regimental commander, General W. R. Shafter, and got his strong backing. Then I hurried to mail the letter myself, before returning to camp. I had done some quick reasoning regarding the chances of success. I said to myself that my letter can do me no harm, and that I would hardly ever again have good friends with power to help me equal to what then offered themselves. Without belittling the weight of the strong endorsements given my application I built largely on the fact that my former captain, then Adjutant General of the Army, was also my good friend. This was about May 28, 1898, and the morning after I forwarded my application two more colonels were appointed, leaving only two vacancies for me to fight for. In 48 hours I received a telegram from the Adjutant General of the Army saying that I had been appointed colonel of the 9th United States Volunteer Infantry. Another telegram in a few hours directed me to proceed immediately to New Orleans, there to raise, organize and equip my regiment. Before doing this I will say a little more about my old regiment, the 24th Infantry. My entire regimental service had been with that colored regiment. When I joined it in 1877 the regiment was under a cloud, and had been criticized in Congressional Records, and we officers felt very keenly our status, and we worked the harder to re- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 255 trieve the reputation of the regiment. We finally succeeded, by steady and persistent effort, assisted to some extent by the result of several general court martial trials. These trials eliminated some un- desirables. Quite a number of young officers, on first assign- ment, side stepped the colored regiments, and I, myself, was told in 1883 at Fort Monroe by a young lieutenant of artillery that he would “rather be a second lieutenant of artillery than a captain of niggers.” I replied that I would gladly accept a higher commission in a regiment of monkeys, if those monkeys were Uncle Sam’s regulars. Wherever we went we officers found ourselves at a great disadvantage, socially, as compared with the officers of white troops. But we worked on, and we made our regiment second to none in soldierly efficiency, and with hardly an equal in discipline and good conduct. This was the 24th Infantry in old times. The negro soldier loves his officer, if that officer shows even the minimum of kindness, and he will give the maximum of devotion and hard work if his officer will, by his own efforts, prove that he knows his business and intends to have it properly done. The colored soldier needs more, and more careful, looking after than his white comrade does. He is not so self-reliant and confident, but he follows as fast and as far as any one, white or black, can be found to lead, or even accompany him. Hard work, hard marching, danger and disease, all these he will endure triumphantly and cheerfully if he feels that he is being treated justly, and that his officers know their business. 256 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY In the 24th Infantry I had some fine regimental commanders. The man who was selected to lead our army to Santiago was no ordinary soldier. Indeed, he was the most energetic fat man that I ever saw, and his knowledge of military routine work was wonderful. When we of the 24th Infantry heard that Shafter was to command us we were well satisfied. I speak of the officers about us at that time. Zenas R. Bliss used to say that he had commanded a military post longer than any other officer in the Army at that time, and I know that his command always showed that he had profited by such experience. Jacob Ford Kent was the “salt of the earth,” in every way, both socially and officially, and he was a most chivalrous and efficient officer. I take off my hat to all three of those men, and I consider lucky the body of men that receives as commanding officer a man as good as any one of them. Having received definite orders to go to New Orleans and raise, organize and equip my regiment of “immunes” I wasted no time in great preparations, but I quickly and quietly left, about the first of June, and on the road via Mobile we met a train in the middle of the night, filled with shouting soldiers. I was informed that we had met the “Rough Riders.” CHAPTER X Having arrived at New Orleans I promptly learned all I could about what I had to do and how to do it, and ascertained that Duncan B. Hood, a son of General John B. Hood, of the old-time Confederate army, was in the city raising the 2nd Immunes, and that he had some seven or eight hundred men in camp some miles from the city. From Hood I learned all I could, and I decided not to pursue the same plan of raising my regiment. I also found there Capt. F. H. Edmunds, 1st In- fantry, who had marched with me from Pena Colorada to Fort Davis, Texas, in September, 1880. He had been ordered there to muster in Hood’s regiment, and was waiting to do it. Hood’s intention was to get all the necessary men in camp at the same time, and then muster them in as a regiment, all at the same time. I heard from several sources that men would go and spend a few days in his camp and then leave, thus delaying the date of muster in. I determined to pursue a different plan, and to muster in my companies separately as fast as I could get together enough men to form one company. I am sure that my plan was the better. By telegraphing to Washington each time I needed something I got all my wants supplied. At my request I was authorized to appoint my regimental 257 258 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY quartermaster, hire a surgeon and an office, and then to proceed with the examination of applicants, and I obtained authority to have Capt. Edmunds as my muster-in officer also. I was authorized to obtain from the quartermaster on duty at New Orleans all manner of quartermaster supplies, and subsistence stores from an officer of that department also on duty there. Arms, am- munition and other ordnance stores were, I believe, furnished me on application, from Rock Island, 111. After being in New Orleans several days I learned by telegraph from Washington that my regiment was to have colored lieutenants of companies, as well as colored enlisted men. I promptly wired to Wash- ington that with colored lieutenants of companies it would be difficult to get good white captains, and I told the truth, as proven very soon. However, I was directed to go ahead, and I was informed that the difficulty of getting good white captains would not be as great as I feared, but results proved that I was correct in my statement. One of my first troubles was with the political machine that ran things in New Orleans. I was very soon visited by a veteran of the Civil War who told me of his qualifications to perform the duties of field officer, and he offered me a regiment, all ready, except that it lacked a colonel. I had more than one visit from others who apparently belonged (like the old timer) to a regiment which they claimed existed then and there in New Orleans. I have never believed that statement, excepting so much as may have referred to the names of men who desired to be officers, also the names of enough enlisted men to represent very incomplete companies. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 259 Most of these men that came to me were white, but one colored man came and told me of his qualifications for the very important position of regimental surgeon. Several times I was told how difficult it would be to raise a regiment there without the assistance of the men that, in my opinion, then composed the political machine of New Orleans, one man insisting that it would be impossible. I had been warned by General Corbin to keep clear of politics down there. On one occasion I received a telegram from Washington, apparently signed by one U. S. Senator, and four Congressmen, all of one state, and recommending a particular old relic of the Civil War for the position of field officer of my regiment. I paid no attention whatever to the telegram, waiting in vain for the gentlemen who had recommended the old veteran for high position to follow it up, and I knew that if they did not do so, they were merely paying a political debt in their joint telegram and had no intention of doing any more. Coolly and politely I told the political machine that I had been ordered to New Orleans to raise a regiment, not to accept one already raised, and that I expected to designate my own officers, that the regiment, claimed by them to be ready for me, would not in any sense be my regiment, for that by their political influence they would continually be interfering with the admin- istration of my regiment. I did not inform them that I had been warned from Washington to beware of just such a condition. The result was the promise of practically a boycott, if not of active opposition, but I proceeded to raise and organize my regiment of immunes. As predicted in my telegram to the Adjutant General of the Army, 260 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY applications from desirable men for white captaincies were slow in coming in. I was compelled to accept, in some instances, captains that I did not consider competent, rather than wait for better men and con- sume so much time as to cause an inquiry from Washington as to reason for delay. I applied twice for my classmate Augur to be my lieutenant colonel, and in this connection I wish to state that he knew about it and did not object. Evidently his viewpoint had changed somewhat. Failing to get Augur I then requested, in succession, former graduates and ex-officers Harry Landon, Willard Young, Calvin Esterly, and Charles Bradley, the last two being my own classmates and at that time in civil life. I tried also to get young Augustin as one of my majors. I was given an ex-captain of regulars as my lieutenant colonel, and I could get none of those gentlemen named. Each additional officer from the regulars, in such a regiment, is worth his weight in valuable jewels, as I learned by the lack of such help. On being ordered to New Orleans I did not, at first, know that I would be required to hunt up practically all my officers, but that does not clear my conscience. I should have immediately reached out and called to my assistance the sons of some of my brother officers, some graduates of military schools, also many old meritorious noncommissioned officers. My con- science is not clear. Not only did I, for a while, forget about my brother officers having sons and my regiment having meritorious noncommissioned officers, but I had some queer scruples about robbing my regiment of such fine material right on the eve of battle. It would undoubtedly have badly handicapped the regiment at San Juan Hill. But, I now know that A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 261 such scruples were entirely wrong. My duty was to raise and organize my regiment of brand new volun- teers the best and the quickest I could, and in that I would have best served both the government and myself. My immediate duty was to do the best I could for the 9th Immunes. However, I did request of the War Department my best sergeant, John T. Beckam, my own man whom I had so taught and instructed in every way that he even walked and carried himself as I did. Beckam was taken off the ship at Tampa and sent to me, and he proved to be exactly what I expected. I expected he would be a jewel of the first water, and worth his weight in diamonds. My first regimental quartermaster was George Lea Febiger, the son of John C. Febiger a graduate of the Naval Academy, and the nephew of Col. Lea Febiger, since retired. My first adjutant was Charles Wood, who had been two years at the Military Academy. I soon had one major, Armand G. Romain, whom I had selected from the New Orleans applicants for that position. He was a Louisiana militia officer, of fine old French blood, and a good, reliable soldier. At that time an infantry regiment was allowed only two majors, and my other major was Duncan B. Harrison, a noted playwright, actor and athlete. He was given me from Washington, as were my lieutenant colonel, and my regimental surgeon, Aurelio Pallones. Pal- lones came from near Philadelphia. I was directed to recommend men for commissions as officers, and I did so, and, seeing that I had to accept colored men as lieutenants and knowing that practically none of them could pass an examination, I 262 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY concluded to require only slight examinations from white candidates also. Field officers, captains, the regimental staff and chaplain were to be white. The lieutenants of companies were to be colored. So we hurried on with the physical examinations, and soon had several hundred prospective “immunes” to muster in. The first men to appear for acceptance were from one of the companies of the so-called regiment which I was expected by the political machine to accept the colonelcy of. I accepted the former captain of that company as first lieutenant of the first company mustered in. I did this to break the backbone of the opposition from the machine, and I succeeded, and then I made Beckam first lieutenant of the second company. I was sorry to have to put any other colored man senior to Beckam. After appointing the officers of a company I had the captain submit recommendations for the appoint- ment of his noncommissioned officers. I did this with each company, in succession. The prospective officers and enlisted men were notified to be on hand at the office at a given time, and the company was there mustered in by Capt. Edmunds, and it was then promptly marched to the Fair Grounds, the men pitched their own tents under the supervision of Lieut. Beckam, then they were marched to the canal and made to wash themselves clean, were given their uniforms and underclothing, also their equipments, and finally they were put to work about their company streets, cleaning up the grounds. All this before they were even given their first meal, but that followed very soon, with no in- tentional delay. The New Orleans physician who had been employed A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 263 to make the physicial examinations was accepted as junior surgeon of the regiment, my brother-in-law, James Mitchell, being next in rank to Pallones who was major. With more surgeons the examination of applicants proceeded faster, and soon other companies were mustered in, and put through the same program as the first. In each case the company last previously mustered in, working under the direction and in- struction of Lieut. Beckam, put up the tents needed for the newcomers. In this way all obtained an early knowledge of tent pitching and invariably my man Beckam was the instructor, and he never failed me. I received offers of companies from several places and my reply was always the same. I would send the white captain, the surgeon and the mustering officer to do the examining and the mustering in, and I would tell the original colored captain that, if he wished it, I would accept him as the first lieutenant of the new company. In this way companies were obtained from up Red River, Lake Charles, Houston and Galveston. In some cases the former captain did not come with his men. I accompanied the three above named officers to Houston and Galveston, Texas. When I arrived at Houston my brother Will’s wife hastened to tell me, “Now, don’t you take my Charlie.” And my sister Annie similarly plead for her youngest son, Harry Bondies, when I arrived at Galveston. At each place just named we remained just 24 hours, and then we put a company of United States Volun- teers on the train and sent it to New Orleans. The chances are that if my nephews had been com- missioned in the 9th Immunes they would have been majors of regulars in twenty years. 264 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY At Galveston, during the afternoon’s physical examination of the applicants, a big black fellow of uncertain age, who had just been accepted, came over to my desk and said, “Mister Charlie, don’t you know me? I used to work for your pa. My name is Bev.” It was true that he had worked for my father at Independence, Texas, in the late sixties or early seventies, and was therefore older than the age limit, thirty-five years. So I asked him, “How old are you Bev?” The negro smiled broadly and replied, “Nearly 35, Sir.” Let no one deny the quick wit of the negro. I smiled as he made his get away answer, and pushed my inquiry no farther. “Bev” was one of my best men, always equal to every task. He had been a soldier of the Civil War for a year or so. As remarked before, I obtained my supplies from the officers of the quartermaster and commissary depart- ments then stationed in New Orleans, but the former was quite old, a very strict and narrow construer of Army Regulations and orders, and I was, therefore, several times compelled to telegraph to Washington and get authority for issue of additional stores to my men. No such telegram should have been necessary, under conditions then existing, but with each new order from Washington the old man seemed really glad to allow me to have the goods. He had missed too many boats. The two companies from Texas were, I believe, the last to be mustered in. A colored band leader in New Orleans applied for the position of chief musician, and said that he could bring a number of his men with him, and he requested for the best two of them the appointments as principal musicians. I gladly ac- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 265 cepted his offer, both for himself and for his friends. With these three men, and six or eight more from the same band, my regimental band progressed rapidly. I had the leader search around in the regiment for musically inclined individuals, and I then detailed such men for instruction in music. In this way were added a few more musicians, and long before we left New Orleans the 9th Immunes had quite a respectable band which improved from start to finish. As I was returning from Galveston with the last company mustered in, and when we were nearing New Orleans early that July morning, the morning papers contained the first news of the Battle of San Juan Hill, and reading fast while on the train I learned that my second lieutenant, Augustin, was killed, and that my first lieutenant, Brett, was severely wounded, also that John Gurney, my hunting comrade, was killed. The 24th Infantry was hard hit, but the men had made good our confidence in them. After that it was difficult to visit the home of the Augustin family, on Esplanade Street, the center of the old Creole French population of the city. But, I went regularly, just the same. There are no finer people on this earth than those same Creole French of New Orleans. My regiment being now practically complete, a regular scheme of drill and other instruction was begun. I copied my own part of the program from Winfield Scott’s having described how he had to drill the commissioned officers of his new regiment himself. I did so, too, and I began at the very beginning of the drill book. I organized my white captains, adjutant and quartermaster as one squad, and drilled that squad myself, three times a day, in the School of the 266 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Soldier, without and then with arms, and I had them recite twice a day on what they were being taught practically. The two majors similarly drilled and instructed their squads, composed of colored first and second lieuten- ants, respectively. All the sergeants of the regiment were put into one big squad, with my man Beckam, for instructor, and again he did not fail me. He was the most satisfactory drill master I ever had. He knew the book perfectly, and he was persistent and indefatigable, and at the same time even tempered and patient. I was not always even tempered and patient. It rained frequently, but only in short showers, and if any part of the drill ground remained uncovered by water we surely drilled. In this way we made rapid progress in the instruction of the regiment. When- ever anything was needed I would telegraph for authority, which was always granted. I found that it was not sufficient merely to impart information to the War Department. What was wanted was a straight- out request or recommendation from “Johnnie on the spot,” and to that, attention was always paid. During this period of drill and instruction some of my officers began to show their unfitness, and some- times a lack of desire for military instruction and military service. The resignation of a captain was accepted, and then I hastened to telegraph recom- mendation for the appointment in his place of Ned Markley, the son of my old comrade in the 24th In- fantry. I had to repeat such recommendation, and to help hunt for Ned who had gone to Cuba with a small expedition. He finally joined us in Cuba, after much search and waiting. He was found at Caibirien, on the north coast of Cuba. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 267 At my request Gen. Ord’s son Jim was sent me, and Gen. Corbin sent his wife’s nephew to be one of my officers, and one of Gen, Shafter’s, too. In the beginning, and for quite a while longer the discipline of my regiment was most unusual and lamb like. I cautioned my officers that it was too good to last long. I had never before seen anything like it. Sometime in July the 1st Immunes came from Galveston and went into camp in the Fair Grounds, not more than 250 yards from us. Their discipline was different from ours, but the difference diminished a good deal as time passed and our men saw what the other men were doing. On one or two occasions at night shots were fired in the camp of our neighbors, and on at least one of them I heard the bullet whistle over our camp. Gradually the conduct of my men got worse, and one night Major Harrison got me to accompany him, and we watched some of my men amusing themselves running back and forth across sentinels’ posts, and laughing at the poor sentinels’ efforts to prevent them from doing so. I had carefully refrained from issuing ball cartridges, and now I recognized the correctness of my judgment;. I advised the major to make no disturbance about the crossing of the sentinels’ posts, telling him that in my opinion there would soon be something that could be caught hold of and punished. In a day or two I summarily took off a sergeant’s chevrons for a glaring infraction of discipline which I had witnessed, and a little later one of my men was killed in the city by the police, after having held them at bay till his pistol was empty. The killing happened in the morning, and soon there was visible in the camp of the 9th Immunes a black 268 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY cloud on the faces of men almost black. In the after- noon the men began to collect in small knots and talk in low tones. By sunset a steady murmur could be heard, and about 8 p.m., while I was seated with several of my officers in front of the line of field officers’ tents, the steady murmur was succeeded by louder and more rapid talking, and soon I heard, “ Come on, come on. Let’s go, let’s go.” I knew that trouble had begun. “They have started to town,” I said, and I ran to my tent. I could not find my revolver, and I have always been glad of it, but I found in the dark my old- time adjutant’s sabre, which I had retained and was using while a field officer. A few days previous Major Harrison had proposed that we have our sabres ground, in anticipation of possible need of it when we should meet the Spaniards, and he had a razor edge put on mine. But I had no thought of this as I hastily buckled on my sabre and ran to head off the men, and prevent them from going to town and fight the police of New Orleans. If I had been absent from camp that night, or for that hour, the 9th Immunes enlisted men would have marched into the city, fighting the police and any other people that might have gotten in their way, and the result would have been a long list of killed and wounded soldiers and civilians, to be promptly fol- lowed by the disgrace of the colonel and the muster out of his regiment. No cartridges had been issued to the men, but they had been buying them, and they had enough to cause lots of trouble. With sabre in hand I sprang to the path which led from the end of the company street to the nearest gate opening towards the city. There was a sentinel A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 269 at that gate, but I knew that he could not stop that crowd. Soon they appeared, coming on, laughing and talking now, and the head of the column had arrived within twenty feet of me before I was seen. I stood in the path, with sabre in my right hand, point of sabre being at the height of a man’s breast. “’Fore God, there’s the Colonel,” said one of those in front. “Yes,” I said, “here’s the Colonel, and you men are not going to town to do up the police and disgrace the regiment. You are going right back into camp and stay there. Not a man of you will leave camp tonight. Get back, men! Get back, now, I say, and go back into camp. Back, I tell you!” The men halted and hesitated, those in rear, seeing nothing and hearing nothing, crowded on to the front, and some of them called out, “Go on, go on. What’s the matter there in front?” There were several hundred men outside of their company streets, and undoubtedly the greater part of the regiment was following. I could see their rifles. I stood fast, and again I repeated what I had said at first, but more emphatically, and I gradually turned and pushed background the end of the officers’ line of tents and into the nearest company street, that crowd of furious colored men, armed and bent on fight- ing the police of New Orleans. I followed them as they went back, the same way they had come out of their company streets, and I noticed the sullen, angry attitude of the men as they walked slowly towards their tents. All the time I was talking, and telling them to get back home and stay there, but I realized that I had not entirely quelled that ugly rising, 270 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I had only halted it for a moment, and in a few minutes hundreds of infuriated colored soldiers would be jumping the fence and running down the streets, bent on mischief with their loaded rifles. Then there came to me the lightning quick suggestion, “ Give the men something else to think about. Select the worst of them and bring this mutiny to a head, right now,” and I did it. I selected the surliest and slowest and ugliest look- ing man in the nearest company street, a man who from his looks and bearing, I did not expect to obey me, and then putting the point of my sabre at his breast I ordered him more brusquely and peremptorily to immediately go to his tent, and as the fellow slowly and sullenly turned away from me, not indicating whether or not he would obey, I struck him hard at the top of the back of his shoulder wflth the edge of my sabre, and then he walked to his tent or to some other tent. I then went to the next company street, and from there to the next one, and at both places I did exactly the same thing, w T ith this exception. While in the act of striking the third man, my sabre being verti- cal and opposite my left shoulder, I suddenly remem- bered that my sabre had a razor edge, and this made me change my stroke and use the back of my sabre instead of its edge. Realizing now that I had wounded two and perhaps three of my men with that sharp sabre I had another lightning quick suggestion, “Now, you have surely done it, and you are ruined unless you can instantly bring their wrong doing, the awful meaning of their mutiny, home to these men and so quickly that they have no time to brood over what you have done. Talk to them, and do it instantly.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 271 This advice from my good angel I instantly fol- lowed. I walked down into the center of the com- pany street of the third man struck, and, peremptorily calling the men around me, and using the tone of confident and outraged authority and command, loud enough to be heard for some little distance, I made the first speech of my life. “Men, I know what you had started to do, and it was good for us all that I was in camp tonight. You had started down town to do up the police, and to kill a lot of people. You were going to violate the city ordinances, the state laws, and, worse than all, you were violating the laws of the United States, the Articles of War regarding mutiny, which prescribe the punishment of death for that offence. I happened to be on hand, and I stopped you, and in doing so I have struck several men with my sabre. I had a perfect right to do it, and those men are getting off easy. But, I am sure that you were put up to this by some- body, and that is the man that I am looking for now. I’ll get that fellow into trouble. Now go to your tents and go to sleep.’’ Before I had said more than a third of my speech I heard around me mutterings like this: “The Colo- nel’s right, I tell you. He’s right, now, men.” I knew that I was winning my fight, and I went to the next company street, and then on to the next, calling a crowd around at each halt, and making, as nearly as I could, the same speech. All this time I had no one with me except my brother-in-law, Assistant Surgeon James Mitchell. In the first company street I noticed him near me, with his little straight sword in his hand. He did not open his mouth, but I knew that I had close at hand one friend and backer to the limit. As we went together towards our tent we passed 272 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY by the hospital, and there the Major Surgeon, Pal- lones, was busy sewing up the cuts made by my sharp sabre. A crowd of sullen silent soldiers were standing around, sympathetic with the wounded men. My suggestion to talk was still with me, and I stopped there and made to those men the same kind of a talk that I had made in the company streets, and then I ordered them to go immediately to their tents, and I waited to see that they did so. I did not have to repeat the order. So far as I have ever heard, not a man of the 9th Immunes left camp that night. None of the officers that I had been sitting with came to my assistance, except James Mitchell. They may have gone to their companies, and I think that some did go there. The result of this arbitrary and apparently cruel action on my part was to suddenly and immediately put an absolute and final stop to all symptoms of a lack of discipline in the 9th Immunes, and from that night till our muster out on May 25, 1899, the discipline of the regiment could no; have been better, with new r men. I made no search for cartridges, I disarmed no one, I made no further investigation. The two wounded men improved very rapidly. The surgeon frequently remarked about the razor edge of my sabre, and claimed that it even possessed antiseptic properties. The morning after the incident I telegraphed to the Adjutant General of the Army, “A soldier of the 9th Immunes killed yesterday morning by the New Or- leans police. Incipient mutiny last night. Prompt- ly quelled.” The War Department asked me no questions about it. It w^as also kept out of the news- papers, and, so far as I know, no mention of that night’s incident has ever appeared in print anywhere. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 273 By my individual action that night I saved the lives of many people, prevented disastrous racial trouble, and averted from the Army great scandal and disgrace. I preserved the honor of the 9th Immunes, and pre- vented the prompt muster out of that regiment. Soon the 1st and 2nd Immunes were ordered to Santiago, Cuba, to sail on the same steamer, “The City of Berlin,” afterwards the U. S. Army Transport Meade. The steamer was not large enough to ac- commodate both regiments at the same time, and one had to be left behind, which fell to the Texas men, much to the delight of Hood’s people who were mostly from New Orleans and vicinity. Meanwhile my own regiment was rapidly improving in every way. I could see the good results of my method of instruction, also of my way of putting a stop to an incipient mutiny. Crowds of New Orleans people came on Sundays to my camp, mostly of mixed colored blood, including some beautiful octoroon women. So far as results can justify any action, my work in that mutiny incident was perfect. On August 14th, I believe, peace was signed between Spain and our country; at any rate all fighting was “called off.” On August 15th the Berlin was back from Santiago, and the 1st Immunes began loading, expecting to sail immediately, when I received a tele- gram from Washington saying, “You will go to Santi- ago upon return of the Berlin.” On inspection of the ship I saw that it needed some cleaning, and we had to wait till that was done, and then we loaded on every- thing in one day notwithstanding the distance — four miles from the river, marched down to the wharf, got aboard and started down the river before sunset. Capt. Windus and his company, “I, ” had charge of 274 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the actual loading of the ship. That day, August 17th, from earliest daylight we were very busy, moving from our camp, and surely Windus was also busy at the ship. At about 4.30 p.m. the regiment was formed at camp, every man, including the recent sick and wounded, and we marched, every man of us, down to the dock, four miles away, and about 5.30 p.m. we dropped down the Mississippi. My wife had been with me for about a week, leaving the boys back at Fort Douglas. We did not have much time together, because of my great need to be at camp always, but I was glad to have her see my regi- ment, and she was, too. I had barely time to show her over “The City of Berlin” after loading on the regiment. On the third day out ammunition was issued to the men for the first time. About 6.30 on the morning of August 22nd we steamed into the harbor of Santiago, passing close to the wreck of the Merrimac, in the narrow neck of the harbor. We had been five days on the water, during which time I had to do some care- ful handling of white and colored officers, so as to avoid friction. I had carefully refrained from re- questing the assignment of a chaplain to the regi- ment, not feeling the need of one, and I was hopeful that none would be sent me, even though I believed that I was entitled under the law to a white one. To my disappointment, a colored chaplain joined me after our arrival in Cuba. Hostilities had ceased, but we were greatly needed, with the 2nd, 3rd, and 5th Immunes already there, to relieve immediately the army which had won the Battle of San Juan Hill. That army was then very sick with tropical fevers, including yellow fever. CHAPTER XI Soon after anchoring out in the bay, some half a mile from shore, the Transport Quartermaster, Capt. Coulling, and I, were rowed ashore. We first went to see the Chief Quartermaster, Col. Humphrey, and then I went to report to my superior officer. I had been directed to report at Santiago to the Department Commander, and from correspondence and papers I understood that General Lawton would be in the command of the department after the departure of General Shafter. At headquarters I reported to Generals Shafter and Lawton, in suc- cession. In the past I had known both of them well, and had seen them at Tampa only a few weeks pre- viously. General Shafter looked to be very much in need of rest and recuperation. He was always a good friend of mine. General Lawton told me to go out to San Juan Hill and relieve General John C. Bates and the 9th Massachusetts Volunteers of the care and charge of the Spanish prisoners, so as to enable the Massachu- setts Volunteers, the last of the 5th Corps, to embark and go home. I requested General Lawton to allow me to use the entire regiment in unloading my regimental baggage, giving as my reason that in this way I would personally be there, and personally see that the work would be 275 276 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY expedited, and that, therefore, the Berlin would the sooner be ready for General Bates and his volunteers. General Lawton granted my request, freely and fully, seeming to agree in everything with me and with the reasons which I gave. While at headquarters I heard nothing to indicate that my regiment belonged to any brigade, or to the command of any other officer except the department commander, General Lawton. I made no inquiry as to that point, however, and I left the office feeling that I had the authority of my only commanding gen- eral to unload the vessel in the manner requested by me, and that I had no authority to unload in any other without first obtaining his permission to do so. I also believed that transportation would and should be sent to disembark my regiment without further effort on my part. When Captain Coulling and I got back to the Berlin about 9 a.m., or a little later, we found a small harbor boat alongside, and on deck I met a young captain of volunteers named Scott, who told me that Brigadier General Leonard Wood directed that I disembark immediately with the band and eleven companies of my regiment and march out to San Juan Hill to relieve Gen. Bates, leaving aboard one company to unload and disembark property. I was very much surprised and disappointed. I had just returned from the office of the Department Commander, and I had his authority for unloading and disembarking in a different manner, all of which I care- fully explained to Capt. Scott. The Capt. replied that he knew no more than what he had just told me, and he then carefully repeated those orders to me. I asked him to tell me the exact hour when he had A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 277 received his instructions from General Wood, and it happened to be some twenty or thirty minutes earlier than the exact hour of my conversation with General Lawton, who commanded us both. Inviting Capt. Scott’s attention to the fact that my authority from General Lawton was 20 or 30 minutes later than his order from General Wood, I told him that I would unload and disembark in the manner authorized by General Lawton. My action was strictly and technically correct, but all the same I have never ceased to regret it as the biggest mistake of my life. I afterwards learned that General Wood com- manded the port of Santiago, and had an office in the headquarters building, but at that time I did not know it, and no one suggested to me that General Wood had anything to do with my disembarking, or place of camping. Ever since that day I have thought that the system then being used at Santiago could and should have been made to work much easier and smoother, leaving no possibility of any such mistake as mine, which I believe has altered the whole course of my career. Capt. Scott took the boat away with him, and for hours I waited for a boat to come and disembark my regiment, and finally, in the afternoon, I went ashore again and saw the Chief Quartermaster, and got from him the promise of a boat for the next morning. I would have begun unloading the instant a boat arrived, but I could get none till next morning. The following day, August 23rd, 1898, we worked hard at unloading the ship and disembarking the regiment. Before leaving the ship we cleaned it up well, so that it would be in condition for the early 278 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY departure of the 9th Massachusetts. Late in the afternoon, the entire regiment being ashore, I re- ceived a written order from General Shafter to “pro- ceed at once to the San Juan Road and report to Major General J. C. Bates for instructions.” I lost no time in learning the road to San Juan Hill, and I promptly put myself at the head of my regiment and started out to find General Bates. Luckily I met in the street, shortly after starting, Private Kibby, of my own company in the 24th Infantry, and I got him to go along and be my guide to the camp of General Bates. It was soon dark, but my guide knew the road, and we had no difficulty in keeping it. As we marched along in the dark I talked with my old soldier, whom I was delighted to see, for I wanted to know an enlisted man’s ideas as to how the battle had been fought. So I asked him, “Now, Kibby, you know that I was not at the battle, and I want to know exactly how it happened. Tell me exactly how you did it. I know you came along a road, down a creek, then you crossed a bigger stream immediately below where the first creek joined another, and you had to go five or six hundred yards across a valley and attack the Spaniards on a hill. Now, tell me how you did it.” My old soldier stammered and hesitated, and all the description he could give me was, “Well, Sir, it was just this way. It was just like them drills we used to have, ‘taking a hill.’” No other reply or descrip- tion could have pleased me half so well, and I then knew that my old company of the 24th Infantry had gone at that San Juan Hill just as they had done in many peace exercises, but using ball cartridges and live targets instead of blank cartridges and inanimate objects. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 279 On a number of occasions we had, at Fort Bayard, exercised over terrain greatly resembling San Juan Hill, excepting the rank vegetation in the valley. No better illustration, or proof could have been given as to the value of careful instruction, in time of peace, in those exercises which, excepting the use of ball cartridges, so resemble war conditions that the men will do their part just as though at drill. We found San Juan Hill and Gen. Bates’ camp, and I reported to the General. He told me where the Spanish prisoners camped, and informed me that they needed no guards except to prevent some mean Cubans from illtreating them. He told me that the prisoners were being sent to Spain as fast as ships could be obtained to transport them home, and that in a few days more the prison camp would be empty. He advised me to camp on San Juan Hill, on the site recently vacated by the 20th Infantry, (his old regiment), just across the pond from his own camp at that time. I remarked, “I don’t like to camp on the ground recently abandoned by other troops.” He contended that it was the best location, all being bad, and that I could soon move away a short distance and still not have far to travel into Santiago when my camp should be permanently changed. The next morning General Bates repeated his sug- gestion as to camp site, but I considered him as my commanding officer for the time being and his sug- gestion as an order. The written order which I had received the evening before said that I was to report to Gen. Bates “for instructions.” We lay down in the road where we were, and we spent the rest of the night there, and the next day, August 24, camp was pitched on San Juan Hill, and 280 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY on the smaller hill on the other side of the road which comes from El Caney. This road divided my camp. Headquarters, Band and the first two battalions were put on San Juan Hill proper, utilizing as best we could the ground around and close to the old Spanish trenches, and using new ground as much as possible. Several hundred yards away was the camp of the several thousand Spanish prisoners, and we put some men on the road from their camp to the city, guarding the camp against intrusion by Cubans. Immediately I tried to get transportation with which to bring out to our camp our big tents and heavy baggage, having marched out with nothing but our arms and shelter tents. We could not get the transportation. We were told that in a very few days, as soon as the last Spanish prisoner had gone, we would be moved up to San Luis, the terminus of the rail- road and about 23 miles from Santiago, and, there- fore, for quite a while, we lived in shelter tent camp. Almost every day I rode into Santiago, to Depart- ment Headquarters and to the Chief Quartermasters, on official business connected with bettering the condi- tion of my camp, the men being still in shelter tents. The last prisoner left on August 26th, 1898, follow- ing which the regiment was employed in guarding the deserted camps of the 5th Corps (Shafter’s), and after that in hauling in to Santiago the U. S. property found in those camps by us, all the time guarding our own regimental property down on the wharf at Santiago. Meanwhile drill and regimental instruction was not entirely neglected. Daily we drilled in the early morning and late afternoon, and my men captured San Juan Hill many times, imagining themselves the 24th Infantry. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 281 During this period heavy rains began, soaking the camp and increasing our discomfort, and hastening the arrival of the inevitable tropical fevers which had worked such havoc with the 5th Corps regiments. I do not know why we were not moved away from San Juan Hill as soon as the Spanish prisoners had gone, August 26th. Perhaps it was desired to use us for the work of guarding and hauling in for storage the property which had been left in the 5th Corps camps, and possibly it was supposed that we, so called “immunes,” might really be immune to tropical diseases. During the first week of our stay in that camp I found the location of the Division Hospital, Kent’s Division, where were buried some of our men who had died from wounds received in the battle. I found the grave of my 2nd Lieutenant, J. N. Augustin, Jr., plainly marked by a piece of sheet iron with his name on it. I found him lying on his back, no coffin, but an enlisted man was buried under him. It was heroic work on the part of my two “immunes” who took the corpse out of the grave. I can never forget it, espe- cially the part taken by my orderly, Bev, the old soldier who had worked for my father when I was a boy. I had brought with me from New Orleans a metallic casket, given me by my lieutenant’s father, and I hastened to take the remains into Santiago for shipment to New Orleans, which happened in a few days. About September 2nd a wave of tropical fevers passed through my camp, the first death occurred on September 12th, and on September 18th, 1st Lieuten- ant L. I. Barnett died, one of my best colored officers. “Pernicious malarial fever” was the description gener- 282 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ally given the deadly disease which killed so many of my 9th Immunes, but the difference from yellow fever seemed in some cases almost imaginary. On September 11th we received the order to move up to San Luis, the order which we had been looking and longing for, so long. On that day so many of my men were down, sick, that we could not get up and go, and I rode into Santiago and so informed General Lawton, and six days passed before enough men were able to do the work necessary for moving our men and camp equipage. One morning, on San Juan Hill, during this waiting for my men to get a little stronger, I was sitting in front of my tent, waiting for reveille, and to see how the roll calls were being conducted. I wanted to see if my people were doing their best. The men of the 1st and 2nd Battalions, who were under my direct observation and within the sound of my voice, came out and attended reveille roll call in fairly good strength, but in the other Battalion there was no roll call, no formation in any company street. I was not satisfied with that evidence, so I waited and watched a little longer, to see if the call to breakfast would be any more attractive. Some few men moved about the company streets between first call and assembly, but after reveille was entirely over quite a number promptly appeared in each company street, and began their morning work. Of course there were even more at breakfast. That convinced me that in those companies the men, to some extent, had given up their courage, or were brazenly neglecting their ordinary military duties. At this writing I believe that both reasons were instrumental in causing the omission of all roll A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 283 calls that morning in the 3rd Battalion. The last and best reason was, the failure of some of the officers of that battalion to rise to the occasion and perform their own duties. I knew that something had to be done, and promptly, as on the occasion of the incipient mutiny in New Orleans. After breakfast, with my second surgeon, Lieut. James Mitchell, I went along those company streets, and I made quite a talk in front of each tent where I found any of my men. At each place I made practically the same talk. Again I wanted to make the men stop thinking about them- selves and their condition. This time I wanted to make them angry, feeling sure that it would make them stronger, and I intended, also, to arouse in them all their pride, especially their pride of race. Finally, I wanted to strengthen the weak in courage. In substance I said, “ From my tent this morning I saw that you had no company formation, no roll call at reveille. And I saw that, as soon as reveille was over, there were lots of you in each company street. Of course you will say that you were sick and not able to attend a roll call. A good many of you are sick, like a good many in each of the other companies, but sickness did not really keep you away from reveille roll call this morning. It was more a lack of ‘ sand,’ the real grit that you ought to have as soldiers. You call yourselves ‘immunes,’ and you claim to endure certain tropical diseases better than white men do. Now I want you to give me some proof that you can do that, some proof that you can do it even as well as white men are doing it right now. You are not doing that. More sand, men, that’s what I want to see. There will be a for- mation in every company street for reveille, and every other time that there should be one.” 284 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY As I went along each company street and looked at the men I was talking to I could see that many of them were very sick, and I believed that some of them were dangerously ill. One man, with yellow eyes, I marked, and, as soon as I could, I asked my surgeon, “James, did you see him? Wasn’t that ‘Yellow Jack? ’ ” The poor “immune” was dead in less than a week. My speech was a brutal one, just like my action that night of the incipient mutiny at New Orleans, but in both instances my intuition was absolutely correct. My visit to the camp of the 3rd Battalion put heart and spirit into every man of them, and worked a world of good. I am sure that then I saved the lives of many men who had little hope left, and who would other- wise have given up the fight. In both cases I did exactly the right thing, but in each instance, what to do and the psychological moment for doing it, came as instantaneous intuition leaving no doubt as to its wisdom if properly performed. But, unless the officer should feel the intuition good and strong, and unless he is sure that he could do his part perfectly, I wouldn’t recommend such action under similar circumstances. Intimate acquaintance with the colored man was my best asset, to begin with, and at no time did I have the slighest doubt regarding my action, its propriety and chance of success. Willingness to assume responsibility and confidence in one’s self go a long way under such circumstances. The causes of so much sickness were several in number. Undoubtedly our ignorance, at that time, of proper camp sanitation increased our sickness, but such ignorance w r as general, and the camps of the regular regiments of the 5th Corps had also been full of sick soldiers. From the beginning I was afraid A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 285 of our camp site, but I felt that I could not do other- wise than follow General Bates’s “instructions” and remain there at least a few days. And then, we be- lieved that as soon as the Spanish prisoners left, we too would go, and go to a new and healthy location up in the hills. Then later, we worked with the abandoned camps, rushing the work in the hope that we would move all the sooner by doing that work. The men appeared to be stronger by the middle of September, and on the 18th instant the 1st Battalion marched into Santiago, took the train and moved up to San Luis, followed on the 19th and 20th, respectively, by the 3rd and 2nd Battalions. Per- haps we would have been in better physical condition, and with fewer deaths against our record, if, after the departure of the Spanish prisoners, we could have promptly moved even the four or five hundred yards, suggested by General Bates as being, probably an improvement on San Juan Hill as a camp site. Various reasons and causes interfered with our moving anywhere before the rains came, and brought deadly diseases with them. I remained in camp to superintend the movement of my men, and to see the camp well cleaned up before our departure. I went to San Luis with the last troops, after seeing all the camp well cleaned. The regiment was put in camp just outside of San Luis by the brigade commander, Brigadier General E. P. Ewers, U. S. Vols. The other regiments of the brigade, the 8th 111. and the 23rd Kansas, were camped on the opposite side of the town from us, to my great satisfaction. Those colored volunteers had all colored officers, and had not as good discipline as we had in the 9th Immunes. 286 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Our new camp site was well drained, and our whole energy was bent towards getting our men back into good physical condition, doing only so much military duty as was absolutely necessary and at the same time very healthy exercise. The instruction of the officers was resumed in this camp, and the various service manuals, of Guard Duty, Courts Martial and Infantry Drill were used diligently. Early in November I felt the need of rest and recuperation, and I therefore went into the officers’ hospital in Santiago, accompanied by my brother-in- law, Asst. Surgeon James Mitchell, who was also worn down and in need of rest. When we went to the hospital we were not sick enough to have to take to bed and stay there, but we both needed very much the few days rest which we had at the hospital. My appetite was poor, and I was delighted to find in the hospital a shotgun and some cartridges, and in that small enclosure I killed nine little doves like the small doves found around San Antonio, Texas, and along the Rio Grande. These birds were greatly relished by both of us. When we had been absent about ten days, and were ready to return in a day or two, we received infor- mation which made us both hasten back to San Luis as soon as the Surgeon at the hospital could let us go, and we used the next train. A most regrettable incident had occurred in my absence from the regiment. I don’t know that my presence at camp would have prevented it, but I believe so. I hastened there November 15th, to remedy matters the best I could. During my absence a squad of newly organized Cuban Rural Police had gone to San Luis. From my investigation I could not learn that the commanding A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 287 officer of my camp had received any information as to the duties, instructions and powers of those men who were under the special control of the department commander, at that time, General Wood. My men had never heard of the Rural Police, and they were very much surprised to see the strangers locate themselves practically within the jurisdiction of my camp, in a house where we had a sentinel’s post over some of our property which was stored in one of the outhouses. In one of the ground floor rooms of the main building, in the yard of which was my sentinel’s post, there was a small shop where soft drinks, fruits and other things were sold to my men, and my men were in the habit of openly and freely frequenting that shop. When the Rural Police had been several days in the main building a disturbance occurred in the little store between one or more of them and one or more of my men, resulting in my men running to camp for help. More men came from camp with their rifles, and there was quite a fusilade, resulting in the death of the Lieutenant of the Rural Police and one of his men, also the old man who owned the place. A child of the family was also hit. No soldier was wounded, and that fact, more than anything else, prevented any certain knowledge leaking out as to what individual soldiers were con- cerned in the disturbance. My own belief has always been that the sentinel took a hand in it, but I could get no evidence to that effect. I endeavored to find out which of my men had taken part in the affray, but I could get no evidence implicating any particular man. The thousand dollars offered by the Department Commander also 288 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY failed to bring to light any satisfactory evidence. In a case of that kind colored people can keep a secret, and they kept that one, just as other colored soldiers did, after the Brownsville raid in the winter of 1906-7. Honest effort was made by us to discover who were concerned, or even present at the shooting, all with- out success. Not being in my camp when the strangers arrived I had no first hand knowledge of the case, and honest effort to discover something after I returned failed to give me any information. Apparently, they came without warning to anybody, and located themselves without orders from any one superior to the lieutenant in command of them. In about a month and a half, when my men were much improved in health, the regiment was again moved, about the last of November, out to a new and pretty camp site on a bold and clear stream some three miles from San Luis. The camp was carefully pitched, and with the increasing strength of my men more military work was done. Drills were resumed by company and by battalion, and, without orders from any superior officer I instituted target practice. We had picked up, around the abandoned camps and trenches of the 5th Corps regiments, some thousands of cartridges, for both the old Springfield and for the new Krag- Jorgenson rifle, and we used up those cartridges in an improvised system of target practice which interested and improved my men very much. Near to our camp were lots of wild guineas, and those birds resembled very much the other birds of the big grouse family. One of my majors, D. B. Harrison, had brought with him to Cuba a 12-gauge shotgun, and with that gun I hunted the birds a number of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 289 times, and I found their habits, manner of hiding, flushing and flying very similar to what I had observed while hunting prairie chickens about Fort Sill. Except for a somewhat different appearance those guineas might have been mistaken for prairie chickens, and they looked exactly like barnyard guineas, excepting that their color was not quite as bright. I killed one which was nearly white. This camp was quite comfortable and healthy. We had our “A” tents for the men and “Common” tents for the officers, and big hospital tents for the hospital and sick. We had to cut down the high grass to make the necessary space for camp. We obtained our good tents for the men at the time when, according to my recollection, we were at the same time busy hauling the property of the 5th Corps regiments from their abandoned camps into Santiago. My recol- lection is, that only in that way could we obtain the necessary transportation for our own purposes. The following incident will show the height and thickness of the grass. One day, while hunting guineas with Major Harrison’s shotgun, I flushed some guineas and quickly downed one of them about thirty yards away. The bird fell in the high grass, and at the sound of the shot some other guineas arose right behind me. I must have passed right through them. I turned in my tracks and fired straight to the rear, getting one of the second flight, and this bird also fell in the high grass. There was nothing to assist me in marking the spot where either bird had fallen, and the grass was at least two and half feet high, and very thick. Before mov- ing out of my tracks I tried to fix approximately the location of the dead birds. I hunted for them, one 290 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY after the other, for about an hour, and I found neither of them. They were very young birds and therefore easily killed, and they fell like very dead birds. The various fevers had about disappeared from our camp, and from the camps of other regiments by Janu- ary 1, 1889, and about that time the American girl appeared in Santiago. It was good for sore eyes to see again some of our own American women, and this reminded me that my wife might now with safety visit my camp. So I wrote, requesting her to come, and I bought for her coming a pretty Cuban pony and a side saddle, to be used by her in riding about the country. She needed no urging, and arrived about the 26th of January, 1899. Her first words were, “Why, you don’t look sick,” proving that she expected me to show the ravages of disease. James Mitchell, her brother, had written home about our having been in the hos- pital together, and she remembered it. In my letters I had said nothing about having been sick, although I wrote from the hospital. It has always been my custom to say nothing about my troubles in my letters. For two or three days my wife and I enjoyed going about the neighborhood of our camp, and then we made a trip to Santiago, to see our old-time friends of the 24th Infantry, the Palmers, and their daughter, Mrs. Augustin. Captain Alfred M. Palmer, Quartermaster at Santi- ago, had served many years in the 24th Infantry, and his daughter Alice had married my second lieutenant, J. N. Augustin, Jr., who was killed at San Juan Hill. We found Mrs. Augustin with her parents, and we spent a very pleasant day with them, returning the same evening to our camp in the hills. The next morning my wife was a little indisposed with a loose- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 291 ness of the bowels, apparently nothing much, so I went on with my general court martial work in San Luis, where I was president of the court composed of officers from the three colored regiments comprising our brigade. On the second morning I went again to my court martial, and on returning I found that my wife was really sick. I promptly obtained the services of a woman nurse then in my camp, she being the wife of a 9th Immune sergeant, on leave from the Hospital in Santiago. I stayed in camp with my wife. My wife died, in my double tent, before she had been sick fully five days, having a very high fever and the worst form of dysentery. Then, of course, I was sorry that I had even con- sented to her coming. I had really written for her to come, saying that it was safe. She died from sickness contracted in line of duty. Indeed, she had come to Santiago expecting to find me sick and to have to nurse me back to health. I obtained one month’s leave of absence, and carried my wife’s remains to the United States on a British tramp steamer which stopped several days at Cienfue- gos en route. While about opposite Cape Hatteras we saw a school of small whales, and during the trip we had opportunity to examine a flying fish at close range. One day, as the ship rolled more than usual, a flying fish landed on the deck and was picked up by a mem- ber of the crew. It was shown immediately to Capt. Nolan and myself, and was given to us the next morn- ing for breakfast, and a good fish it was. Capt. Robert Nolan was going home on a short sick leave. For several days the weather had been so rough that Nolan and I had been having considerable difficulty in persuading our food to remain in our stomachs, and 292 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY this fresh fish was all the more appreciated by both of us. My wife’s remains were buried in a Philadelphia cemetery, on the banks of the Schuylkill River, in the Mitchell family lot. I obtained several weeks extension to my leave, was in Washington the last day of Congress, dined in the Capitol basement next table to a Volunteer Colonel and an outgoing Congressman, and I was very much interested in their talk. The Colonel was also an out- going Congressman, and before leaving his regiment had been in a fight which left ugly marks on his face, and he was not satisfied with the results of that fight. In a few years there was a sequel to that fight, down in Kentucky. Returning to Cuba I found my regiment much scat- tered, part being in San Luis, and the other companies occupying four or five different posts. One post was at Mayan on the northern coast of the island, one at Palma Soriano twelve miles from San Luis, and farther inland, and one was at El Cobre, off the railroad and about 15 miles from Santiago. We also occupied sev- eral other small towns on the little railroad which split after climbing up the mountain, each branch then ex- tending a few miles further. One of the small towns was Songo, the terminus of the other branch of the railroad. The Cubans had gotten restless, and some of them were burning cane fields, and robbing rich plantations. There are, so far as my observation went, no small farms in Cuba. There are only big plantations, of a varying number of houses and people, all living to- gether in a village. These villages looked to be com- plete. In my absence two of my companies were given horses, and thus became mounted infantry. I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 293 had at San Luis one of these mounted companies, and the other was at Mayari. Among the restless Cubans who were called “banditti” was one Troncon, certainly an interesting character. He was said to have been the man who did the chopping off of Spanish prisoners heads for Lieut. Gen. Antonio Maceo, a mulatto and one of their best generals. Troncon was said to handle a huge machete and he was credited with having removed the heads of a hundred Spanish prisoners, each at one stroke, but for all that I do not vouch. We were after the “banditti,” and especially Troncon. My men were eager to go after those people because the banditti had killed a 9th Immune in unprovoked cold blood, and the similarity of color and blood meant nothing after that, and several banditti were killed. After a good deal of hunting and searching for him, Troncon was finally captured by one of my detachments under the command of Major Harrison, and was brought into camp. I was sorry he had not offered resistance. He looked to me to be the biggest, not the fattest man that I ever saw. He was coal black, about six feet and two or three inches tall, exceedingly broad shouldered, and a finely proportioned giant. He gave us no trouble whatever while in confinement, and was soon sent to Santiago, and I have no knowledge of Troncon’s after career. Such a thing as he deserved exactly the sort of punishment he had so often meted out to prisoners, but we could not do that, so that perhaps Troncon lived to continue his bloody career some time longer. As said before, the banditti had killed one of my men in cold-blooded murder. There was no kind 294 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY feeling between my colored soldiers and the Cuban colored people who composed about four fifths of the population of the eastern hah of Cuba, the same people who have furnished the beginnings of most of the insurrections against the Spaniards. Besides taking some prisoners my men killed several Cuban banditti, and because of frequent expeditions against them my men were fast becoming good soldiers. Four white captains and about double that number of colored lieutenants had left the regiment, and their places were filled by better men. In this way (sug- gestion of unfitness and the “ benzine board ”) , assisted by other causes, vacancies were made for several old noncommissioned officers from the colored regulars, and those men performed the practical and military duties of an officer with much efficiency. Their lack of education was always a handicap, but they worked hard to even up. My major surgeon had left the regiment, and my brother-in-law, James Mitchell, was promoted to the vacancy thus created, and several good white captains joined me. The Cubans were beginning to show considerable irritation at our prolonged stay on the island, and while I was travelling on the little railroad, going to and coming from Santiago, Cuban officers frequently inquired of me, “ When are the Americans going to leave Cuba?” I heard of similar inquiries made of others. My regiment soon left the island, but some regular regi- ments remained on duty there for several years longer. On that little narrow gauge railroad the conductor would regulate the speed and the halts of his train by the use of a whistle, having to open the door each time he wished to use it. CHAPTER XII About the middle of April, 1899, intimation of our approaching departure began to reach us. At first it was expected that we would sail about May 1st, and we were so informed, and directed to hold ourselves in readiness to move promptly, the infantry company at Mayan being brought in early, so as to facilitate rapid moving from that place which was about 40 miles from San Luis by poor roads. The mounted company was left at Mayari a little longer. Although my retained telegraphic order directing movement to Santiago, to embark there, is dated April 25th, we knew positively on the 23rd that the move had been directed. In tropical countries telegraph lines are frequently put out of order by storms, and it was our bad luck to have no telegraphic communication with Mayari on the 23rd. I was going to send some mounted messengers to Major Romain with the order, when two Cuban gentlemen came from Santiago, en route to Mayari. They arrived about sunset and were going through that same night, and they requested of us a short rest and something to eat. One of these gentle- men was named Betancourt, a good name in Cuba, and 295 I 296 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY this man was well known to me by reputation, so that I did not hesitate to entrust to him my written mes- sage to Major Romain, for delivery the following morning. My written message to Romain was to ride hard and be at San Luis early the 26th, so as to take the train immediately for Santiago. The Cuban gentleman rode well, and delivered my order to Major Romain promptly, then Romain and his mounted men rode hard and were at San Luis on time. The companies at Songo, Cristo and El Cobre were also ready and waiting. There was no hitch whatever, the company at Palma Soriano having been brought to San Luis, to camp there the night of April 25th. Using several trains for our scattered companies, we concentrated on the wharf at Santiago per- fectly, and the troops as they arrived immediately took small boats for the U. S. Transport Meade, the former City of Berlin, and the loading of that ship was superintended by myself. Our orders directed the ship to leave that same night, and because of the tide we had to get out of the harbor by about 6 p.m. This made us hustle, every man of us. I was informed that the Department Commander Gen. Wood, intended to inspect the boat before we sailed, and he was on hand an hour or two beforehand, and he suggested twice the impossibility of our being able to get away by 6 p.m. But I insisted that we would be ready, sure, so far as the regiment was concerned, and I was right. We were ready on time, with 15 or 20 minutes to spare, during which time Gen. Wood expressed his satisfaction with our good work for the day, and he gave me a letter, of which the following is a copy. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 297 Headquarters Department of Santiago, Santiago de Cuba, April 25, 1899. Colonel Crane, 9th U. S. V. Infy. Sir: Your regiment having been relieved from duty in this department it gives me great pleasure to assure you that I have always found your regiment to be efficient, well instructed and well disciplined, and that its services, taken as a whole, have been excellent and creditable. The work done by the officers of the regiment in the suppression of banditti during the last two months has been especially worthy of commendation. I desire to express my appreciation of your own constant and untiring efforts to improve the condi- tion and efficiency of your men and to look after their welfare, in which endeavors you have been very successful. Very respectfully, (Signed) Leonard Wood, Major General U. S. Vols. Commanding Department of Santiago. We passed out of the harbor of Santiago before dark on the 26th of April, and we had a pleasant trip to New York, the only unpleasantness arising from the tendency to friction between the white officers and their wives and the colored officers and their wives. I settled this matter by dividing the decks between them and then making all keep on their own part of the deck. On one occasion I very promptly used a little disciplinary measure with great success. I did it just as quickly and quietly as I had acted on other occasions, and with just as great success. I did not have to do it twice. 298 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The occasion referred to was caused by the presence aboard ship of white captains and their wives, also colored lieutenants and their wives, and, most espe- cially, a colored chaplain who had been with us only a few months. When he had been with us less than two months he relieved a sentinel one day and sent him to his tent. The sentinel was really sick, and should have been relieved on that account, but there was a proper way to do it. He had only to call out, “Cor- poral of the Guard, Number — , Relief,” and wait for his substitute a very few minutes. I instructed the chaplain somewhat that time, making due allowance for his ignorance. But the second occasion was more serious, and might have caused the worst sort of trouble if I had not been on the spot at the instant. On the transport, in order to avoid friction between the wives of my white officers and the wives of my colored officers, which would necessarily have involved their husbands and others, I issued even before leav- ing the dock, a carefully worded order, in which I described clearly and concisely the exact limits of deck space assigned to each class of officers and their wives, and I ordered them all to stay within such limits during the entire trip to New York. About the second day out at sea, one morning, I heard some animated talking in which my order was being discussed, with conflicting views advanced. I instantly went there, and it was well that I did. My colored chaplain, in his ignorance, was asserting the rights of colored officers and their wives to go any where on that ship, order, or no order, no color line being applicable to officers of the Army. I saw that my previous lesson had been forgotten by the chaplain A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 299 and that, again, I had to do something quick as thought, and I did it. I ordered the chaplain to follow me into one of the big rooms of the ship, and there I said to him about as follows : “ In your ignorance you have again meddled in my business, and this time it is very serious. You have taken the stand that my orders do not have to be obeyed, and you have advised others to ignore them, and that might have caused bloodshed and ruin to this regiment in a few minutes. Now, to show whether or not you have to obey my orders I’ll give you another one, and I am going to have you obey it right here. Step up close to that corner and look at the wall there for five minutes by my watch.” I pulled out my watch while the chaplain promptly did as I had ordered. After the expiration of five minutes I said to him, “Now, you go and mind your own business, and don’t you make it necessary for me to correct you again.” And he obeyed that order, too. I still had the discipline of the 9th Im- munes in the hollow of my hand. The 9th Immunes had been through some rough experiences, and our numbers were less than when we landed at Santiago, but the regiment was greatly benefited by the loss of some white captains and colored lieutenants, and six months more would have enabled me to bring about some additional similar changes for the good of the service. Those officers had all resigned. My Quartermaster, James Ord, a son of Gen. E. O. C. Ord, remained at Santiago on duty with the Rural Police, and Ord’s duties were then performed by 2nd Lieut. Jones, of the company mustered in at Houston. 300 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Wood and Febiger had previously been promoted, and my Adjutant during the last few months of our service was 1st Lieut. James Longstreet, a son of the famous Confederate general, and a worthy son of his father. After about 24 hours’ delay at the quarantine station, New York Harbor, we were passed on in, and I never before saw anything so pretty as the entrance to New York that day in May, 1899. I could not refrain from repeating to myself those lines of Walter Scott, “Breathes there the man with soul so dead, etc.” The next morning we boarded the train in several sections, and went on straight to Camp Meade, Pa., about 30 miles from Harrisburg. We found that spot one of the prettiest and best for a camp that I ever saw. It was good for anything. That part of Pennsylvania is beautiful. Camp Meade was already prepared for occupancy by several regiments, and we found also a camp com- mander, a captain of Engineers, and a camp surgeon who was a major of regulars. As I was senior to the Engineer Captain in the regulars, and was, at the same time, a colonel of U. S. Volunteers, I had the idea that I should command the camp, and I requested information from War Department on the subject. I was informed by the Adjutant General of the Army that the captain of engineers was in command of Camp Meade. I swallowed my medicine like a little man. Pretty soon the 4th Immunes, Col. Pettit, came along and went into camp alongside of me. Pettit was my senior in rank, and he had the same idea which I had just put to the test, and he wasn’t satisfied with the answer given me, so, he too wrote to the V ar Department on the same subject. The engineer captain remained in command of Camp Meade. I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 301 managed, however, to organize and keep a regimental exchange, — notwithstanding the camp commander’s decision to the contrary. The weather was fine at Camp Meade, and the grounds were so suitable for outdoor work that I promptly instituted a system of drills, giving my men good instruction and at the same time enough exercise to put and keep them in good physical condition. I had in mind the old-time adage, “An idle mind is the devil’s work shop.” My drills and parades served to keep both mind and body busy. But, after a few days there came a lot of muster out officers, and their spokesman insisted on making so much use of my officers and men that it practically took from me the command of my own regiment. However, I managed to retain some little authority over the 9th Immunes, and till the 26th of May we had close order regimental drills early in the morning, and in the late afternoon we had a regimental parade. We had good drills, good parades and good discipline. On May 12, 1899, the regiment went to Harrisburg to take part in the unveiling of the statue of General Hartranft, that colonel of Pennsylvania Volunteers who remained and took part in the Battle of Bull Run that 21st of July, 1861, after his regiment had refused to do so and had marched away to the sound of battle. A battery of volunteers also insisted on doing as the infantry volunteers did. Those volunteers had to be at Washington or some other safe place on the very day their service was to expire, so as to be mustered out that day, claiming it as their right, and they won out. Hartranft took part in the battle, and after- wards rose to high command, and, later still, was 302 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY governor of his state, therefore the statue and our trip to Harrisburg. But what his regiment did is liable to happen at any- time when we use short term volunteers, and it had already happened years before that, in Mexico, when, shortly after the Battle of Cerro Gordo, General Scott was compelled to stop his victorious march to the city of Mexico, send back to Vera Cruz about half his army to enable them to be mustered out in safety, thus causing a delay of several months and the fighting of various other battles, for which the Mexicans prepared themselves during the unexpected rest so kindly given them. At Hartranft’s statue unveiling the regiment looked and marched well, and won favorable comment. Several days after that we had to turn in our rifles, and other ordnance property, to assist the muster out people. Naturally it was considered that being with- out rifles we would discontinue all military exercises, but I knew that if we did that, our discipline would suffer greatly. Therefore we continued our regimen- tal drills and parades exactly as before, and with as much success. The Band did not have to turn in their musical instruments until the last day before muster out, which took place on May 26th. The War Department allowed every volunteer, who so desired it, to take home with him his Springfield rifle and to pay for it on the final muster out rolls. My colored men from New Orleans seemed to take great interest in that, and in one company thirty men wanted to retain their rifles, and, as individuals, take back with them, each man a rifle. I understood well what they were thinking about, and what it might result in, so I compelled them all to box up and ship A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 303 their rifles home, telling them that it had required four years for three million men to march across the South with rifles, and that a few hundred rifles in their hands would get them into big trouble. They concluded that I was right, and they shipped the rifles, with ex- cellent results. For days before May 26th the railroad agents were in our camp, drumming up trade, and the result was a scattering of the men over many roads en route back home to New Orleans. As before remarked, the spokesman for the muster out officers endeavored to use my officers more than I was willing to allow. Finally, several days before muster out, several of my captains absented them- selves from early morning drill, alleging compliance with an order, given them by the said spokesman of the muster out officers, as their excuse. I promptly put my delinquent officers in arrest, and confined them to their tents till the morning of muster out day. I released them from arrest at reveille on the last day of their service. Muster out passed very quietly and smoothly, and every man then went his way. I went down through the South to New Orleans, taking the road which I thought the greatest number of my men had taken, for the reason that, only a short time before, there had been some trouble between colored troops and civilians as the said soldiers passed along, and I wished to be on hand to prevent any trouble being caused by the homeward travel of my men. Nothing hap- pened on any of the various roads taken by them, to my great satisfaction. Before leaving Camp Meade I had offered to fur- nish my invaluable assistant, 1st Lieut. J. T. Beckam, 304 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY my old soldier from my company of the 24th Infantry, a recommendation which would help him to a com- mission in colored troops, telling him that in the near future there would be a call for colored troops for service in the Philippines. To my disappointment he did not wish for anything more than his final discharge, saying that he did not intend trying it again in the Army. I have always regretted that I did not give him the recommendation anyhow, knowing the mutability of our intentions. Beyond question he was my best colored officer, continuing to improve all the time. I attached him to one company after another, to do what the white captain, apparently, w r as not able to to, and quickly Beckam brought order out of chaos. And then, to my utter astonishment, each time the captain wanted to keep him a little longer. This was marvelous, and all the time my colored officer from my old company was the idol and model of the enlisted men. The wonder of it all was that this colored man never lost his head in the slightest degree. While in New Orleans, on my return, I noticed newspaper statements that the colored soldiers had returned very much improved in every way, especially in behavior. One paper expressed the wish that “Crane had taken them all away, and had brought them back behaving like those then seen on the streets.” I renewed my friendly relations with John C. Febiger, the father of my young captain who had started out as my quartermaster, also with Joseph Numa Augustin, the father of my 2nd lieutenant in the 24th Infantry. I shipped the remains of young Augustin home from Santiago. I found Mr. Augustin A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 305 utterly broken in health, and partially paralyzed. He had not been able to shed a single tear, to his great misfortune. While the other members of his family had no difficulty in finding nature’s relief in tears, he was outwardly, just the same as before, always pleas- ant, affable, most kind and considerate. In a few months more he was dead, the only person I ever knew to die from a broken heart. Mr. Augustin was a fine specimen of that excellent French blood in the old part of New Orleans, the real Creoles. At Houston, Texas, I stopped to see my brother Will and his family, and I found with him my older sister, Annie. In her I saw a great change. She walked with uncertainty and difficulty, the result of a recent operation. I never saw her again, for she died the following year on the same day we marched down that long hill to Talisay, on Lake Taal. My sister deserved all kinds of good luck and happiness in this world, and she did not receive what should have been hers. Just before leaving Lancaster, Pa., I got a new woolen khaki uniform from that excellent tailor and fine man, John G. Haas. The khaki (cotton) uni- forms which I had worn in Cuba I had bought in New Orleans before leaving there. This change in our uniforms was the best change I had seen in our service, giving us cotton khaki for hot weather, and woolen khaki for cold weather. In 1895, after returning from a practice march I recommended in my report a change of color for our uniforms and for tentage to that of dead grass, like that color then used in clothing made for hunters. I reported for duty at the Presidio, San Francisco, Cal., on July 6th, 1899, and I found cold weather 306 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY there, to my surprise. Now I know that such is the rule in that city, cold weather in July and roses in January, as I had seen in 1891, when I went there from Fort Bayard to be examined for promotion. After seeing a world of roses in ’Frisco then, I bought straw- berries in Los Angeles en route home. On returning to the 24th Infantry I found a new colonel, Henry Freeman, also a new adjutant, J. D. Leitch, the first of the captain adjutants under the new law. I had known Leitch when he was a cadet in 1888-9, and I had seen him marry the daughter of an old comrade in the 24th Infantry. He became an excellent officer, improving every opportunity. I re- turned to duty as a captain, and found my old com- pany (“F”) much changed, because of the Spanish War. William Rainey was still 1st Sergeant, and Mitchell Wilcox my second sergeant, but I missed Beckam, whom I had brought up from private, and had made him what he was. I missed others, too. Still it was an excellent company, and I enjoyed the few days hard drilling allowed me, getting the men into better shape. I had a new 2nd Lieutenant too, who had come from civil life and who was in great need of instruction of all kinds. When the Army was increased in 1898 quite a number of junior officers came in from civil life, and the result was the addition to the Army of a number of very green officers. I believe that I would have liked duty at the Presidio very much, but my stay there was too short for me to form any associations there, or in the city. Headquarters, Band and the 2nd Battalion of the regiment sailed from San Francisco for Manila July A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 307 13, 1899, on the City of Para. Capt. Henry Wygant, my old time hunting comrade, was in command of all the 24th Infantry aboard, and Col. Jacob Augur, Cav., commanded all the troops on board the trans- port. After a day or two Capt. Wygant put me in command of the 2nd Battalion, retaining the com- mand of the regiment. I immediately requested him to order certain in- struction in the drill and guard manuals for the young officers from civil life, and to put me in charge of the work. I made good use of the opportunity. I found that a great deal of instruction was needed, and that one short month was far too short a time to accom- plish much, but still it was a great thing, and I have always been pleased with myself for making the suggestion to Wygant. We stopped three days at Honolulu, and each morning we marched our men to Tivoli Beach to bathe and swim and cut their feet on the sharp, pebbly bottom. En route there and back we saw immense flocks of ducks in the ponds. The men were allowed no liberty on shore. That was consistent with 24th Infantry ideas of discipline in those days, when we considered ours the best disciplined and most efficient regiment in the field army, but afterwards, when colonel of the 9th Infantry, I pursued a different method, allowing more liberty, and with better results. Like everyone else I marvelled at the beauty of Honolulu, and I enjoyed eating the delicious pine- apples which seem to grow better there than anywhere else. The City of Pari was a rough ship, and we had some weather which gave her an opportunity to roll and 308 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY pitch, offering to most of us good reasons to rid our stomachs of excess bile. Daily we listened to the stories of Jesse M. Lee, and for a month I did not hear of his repeating a single story. His experience had been wide, and many of his stories told what he, himself, had seen and heard. He was a fine man and a good friend, and he gave the Government long and excellent service, being espe- cially successful in the handling of Indians, which fact caused him to be appointed Indian Agent at several different places. We arrived at Manila August 9th, went ashore two days later, and for several days we of the 24th In- fantry occupied some “nipa barracks” in the city. “Nipa” was the coarse grass used in making the roof and sides of the buildings, after the fashion followed by the Filipino in making his own inexpensive dwelling. CHAPTER XIII The buildings at Manila attracted my attention very much. The business houses and the better dwelling houses were of stone, very thick, very full of windows and very cool for that climate. Some of those fine houses had beautiful floors, of very broad planks of fine, hard, mahogany looking wood, and in well kept houses the floors were brightly polished and shining. The windows were made so as to be movable sideways, thus making great openings in the houses, and affording excellent ventilation. Houses for the poorer people were built very much like our nipa barracks in Manila. Many of them, especially those next to the swamp just outside of Manila were raised up on stilts, and had no ground floor. I afterwards learned that this style of house was most commonly used throughout the islands by people of the lower classes, the hewers of wood and drawers of water. In two or three days I was sent to the Pump Station with the 2nd Battalion, and we marched out to the Maraquina River, about nine miles distant. That river comes down from the mountains, and, uniting with the river which drains the Laguna de Bay, forms by the junction, the Passig River which passes through Manila and gives anchorage to many ships. At that time the Passig River formed almost the entire harbor of Manila, allowing ships of about 14 feet draft 309 310 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY to come up into the city for half a mile. At the pres- ent time ships of much greater draft can enter the city by the river, while those of the greatest size may anchor alongside the piers erected in the harbor which has been artificially formed by American genius, assisted by native labor. At the Pump Station the water from the Maraquina River was diverted into a great pipe line leading on top of the ground into Manila. Our special duty was to protect the pump station. I have no idea who watched the nine miles of earthen pipe. My battalion relieved one of the 21st Infantry, commanded by Capt. Bonesteel, Class of 1876, U. S. M. A. We had several small row boats, or skiffs, of Fili- pino make, and a rope ferry, the boat consisting of a number of small boats tied together, side by side, and covered over with a flooring without sides. The current was depended upon to carry the ferryboat across, assisted, when necessary, by men pushing on a long pole. The big rope was tied to a tree on each bank of the river, the tree on our side being about one foot in diameter, and bending a little towards the river. We used the ferryboat in frequent crossings of the river, when we visited the village on the other side. Capt. Augur and his company had charge of the ferry. We had been at the Pump Station several weeks when, about August 20th, orders came from our brigade commander, Brig. Gen. S. B. M. Young, formerly of the 8th Cavalry, for me to take over one company and go up to the scene of a recent fight, towards San Mateo, and locate the enemy. Locating the enemy meant a fight, and the previous one had been fought there by the 21st Infantry A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 311 battalion and some 4th Cavalry, so I thought out a scheme by which my force would be stronger than one company, as indicated in my orders. I would take some of Augur’s men with my company, and have Augur follow with the balance of his company to a village half way and await my return, or come on and reinforce me in case of much firing. We had heard a great deal about the damage done to the “point” of our advance guard by the insur- rectos with their first volley, after which they would promptly disappear. So I prepared, in my mind, a formation which would make a pot shot into my advance guard an impossibility, by giving space between men, and having them walk in Indian file, the main body following at a short distance in the same formation. Before we started I ascertained that Lieut. Geo. H. McMaster, who was going with me, had thought out a similar formation, and he told me of it. I was pleased to see my ideas supported. In a few months our troops all over the islands were using practically that sort of march formation for going through that coun- try. In my practice march in 1895, when going over the mountain trail on the homeward forced march, I used that formation, and I remembered how the winding trail enabled me to dispense with flankers; therefore, I was merely applying the lessons of pre- vious experience. Our expedition was postponed several days because of a big rise in the Maraquina River, but, finally Capt. Augur reported that the river was sufficiently low, and the ferry all right. It had been found necessary to make some repairs on it. So, early one morning, we went to the ferry, and while our troops remained on 312 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY our bank, Augur and I and several other officers and four or five enlisted men, made a trip across the river to test the boat. There were, as I remember it, ten of us. The ferry worked without a hitch, and we then returned for the first load of men. Our test had not been for the purpose of ascertaining how many men the boat would carry, for that had already been done by our predecessors, who told us of their tests, and we considered that we would have a big margin of safety. I loaded the ferry boat with a smaller number of men than had been used in the test described to us, and let it start, there being two officers with the men. The men were, many of them, standing up, and I did not notice such a big mistake until too late. The current was very strong, and the boat had gone about 25 feet from the bank when the anchor tree on our side bent forward towards the river, giving a little slack, at the end of which the boat was stopped with a jerk, and that loosened one of the two ropes attaching the boat to the big rope stretched across the river. This allowed the rear of the ferry boat to swing down stream, and in some places to go lower in the water. The men got stampeded, those that were kneeling rose to a standing position, and the boat became very unsteady. There was no danger for any man who would stay on the boat, but, I was horrified to see the men, one after another, jump into the river, all loaded down with rifles and belts, and try to swim out. With all my might I yelled to the men to sit down and stay on the boat, telling them that there would be no danger in such case. But even the two officers on the boat, McMaster and one other, followed the men and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 313 jumped off into the river, and, before I realized it, I saw my 24 enlisted men and two officers in the river, trying to swim ashore, all loaded down. There were a number of bamboo poles on the bank close to us, and I quickly had some of them pushed out into water, and some of my men were thus pulled in to the shore. As soon as I saw the rope loosen I began taking off my shoes, preparing to swim.' One after another my men disappeared under the water until nine were drowned. A boat was gotten out to Lieut. McMaster just in time to save him. He immediately went on after other men and saved them too. One of the men in the water found shallow depth out in the river, but he was not strong enough to swim to the shore. I took out to him one of the bamboo poles, and we had no great trouble in getting back to our side of the river. He would have drowned if not given help. Through the irony of fate, after every man had jumped off into the river, the poor ferryboat swung back to its starting point and stayed there. This proved that there would have been no danger to any man who should have remained on the boat. The worst that could have happened to any man remaining on the boat would have been a little wetting of a part of his body, no more. The loss of these good men has weighed heavily on me for many years. I was glad that General Young’s aide de camp, Lieut. Smedberg, was present and saw it all, both the preliminary test and unfortunate effort to cross the men. My recollection is that Lieut Smedberg was a participant in our testing of the boat. Being ordered to that duty I was going to give my own men the first shot at the insurrectos, and I built 314 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY high my hopes and expectations of what my company would do. All but one of the drowned men were of my own company. In my report, promptly submitted I described fully the whole affair, and invited refer- ence of it to Lieut. Smedberg. I recommended a medal of honor for Lieut. McMaster for his cool courage and good judgment after jumping off into the water. The river continued high for a number of days, carrying the bodies of my drowned men, in some cases, clear out into the harbor at Manila. Before it was considered advisable to try for another crossing I was appointed Lieutenant Colonel of the 38th U. S. Vol. Inf., and on the 28th of August I reported at Ba- coor, to be brigade inspector of Brig. Gen. F. D. Grant’s brigade -while waiting for the arrival of my volunteer comrades from the United States. About this time I received a letter from my 9th Immune colored officer, Lieut. Beckam, requesting me to assist him to a commission in the colored volunteers then being raised in the United States. The letter was written only a day or two after we sailed from San Francisco. Only a week earlier and he would have had his wish, for my recommendation would, at that time, have won a captaincy for him. But mails were received monthly in the Philippines, and in the meantime others were working for what my man wanted. I regret very much that I did not cable a strong recommendation, but, instead, I wrote it to the War Department, and it arrived too late. At Bacoor, about ten miles from Manila, several companies of the 14th Infantry were stationed, and, three miles below, on a small river, were stationed all twelve companies of the 4th Infantry, at Imus. Dur- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 315 ing the four months I was at Bacoor I performed, part of the time, the duties of brigade adjutant also, being all the time brigade inspector, and inspecting each month the several regiments comprising the brigade. I inspected monthly the troops at Imus, Bacoor, Paranaque, Las Pinas, Los Bafios and Calamba. The last two places were located on the Laguna de Bay. At that time we were on the defensive in the Philippines, awaiting the arrival of the regiments of United States Volunteers which had been raised to relieve the state volunteers, who had, in great part, composed the army originally sent to the Philippines. The 48th and 49th regiments of new volunteers were colored, including captains, and I tried hard to get for Beckam a place with them. I visited each of the regimental commanders and learned that it was too late. Col. Duvall informed me that, under the law, promotions in the regiment must be filled from men already in the regiment, excepting field officers. It was too late to get a commission for the best colored soldier that I ever served with. I have no idea what became of him but I certainly wish him all manner of good luck. During the autumn of 1899, while I was stationed at Bacoor, there were several skirmishes on the road from Bacoor to Imus, the road for much of the distance following the various bends of the small river, which looked to be deep. I was under fire a number of times, being either with my brigade commander or in com- mand of troops. On one occasion, in October, General Grant got the assistance of some marines from the cruisers Baltimore, Boston and Raleigh, the same ships which had taken part in the battle of Cavite, with the Spanish fleet, on May 5th, 1898. The hulls 316 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY of most of the Spanish ships were still visible, the water in the bay being shallow where they were sunk. On the occasion in question thirty men from each of the ships named, ninety men in all, were put under my command, my left flank to rest on the river as we moved towards Imus. The marines were strong enough, and gallant fellows, but they did not take kindly to the mud and bog of the rice paddies, and I didn’t blame them. A little shooting here and there greeted our appearance as we crossed some open ground, but no marine was hit, I am glad to say. About half way to Imus some regular infantry crossed the river and placed themselves on my left flank. Among the officers with them I recognized my brother-in-law, James Mitchell, my former 9th Immune surgeon, who had come out to the Philippines as a contract surgeon. I had not heard of his coming. I saw him in Manila afterwards, where we both stayed at the headquarters building of the 24th Infantry, prepared for officers of the regiment who might happen to be in Manila temporarily. After remaining in the islands about a year, James returned to the United States, and soon began to feel the effects of tropical service. He died of stomach trouble; a fine man, a good friend and an efficient officer. I’ll never forget how he stood beside me that night in New Orleans, when my men wanted to go to town to fight the police. In one of those fights, along that road and river, Capt. Bogardus Eldridge, 14th Infantry, was killed. He was a gallant officer and a fine gentleman. I stayed with him at old Fort Stanton, N. M., when I went there on court martial duty a long time ago. Eldridge was shot by a Filipino from a short trench. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 317 or rifle pit, on the opposite side of the river, and only about 50 yards distant. Capt. Henry J. Reilly, F. A., had a field gun or two, not far off, and he hurried to the spot with one of them and blew the top of the trench off. A day or two later, I believe it was when I was with the Marines, I saw that rifle pit, and I did not believe that the native was hurt, even if in the hole when Reilly used his cannon on him. But, he lost no time in getting away as soon as he could. When I made my October trip up the Passig River, and across the Laguna de Bay to Calamba, to inspect the 21st Infantry, I found that regiment just return- ing from a skirmish that same morning. In those days it was easy enough to find a scrap with the natives at any hour of the day. It was necessary to go only a mile or two from post, or camp, in almost any direction. As a result of the skirmish, the day I was with the Marines, I had to investigate the burning of some native shacks, nipa huts, along the road from Imus to Binacayan, a village between Cavite Viejo and Bacoor. Our men had become a trifle wearied of being ambushed from the shelter of those nipa shacks, apparently the people living in them helping or doing the ambushing, so, the soldiers set fire to all those shacks for more than a mile on the road mentioned. No one got into any trouble on account of my investigation. General Grant was sent elsewhere soon after that fight, and the brigade was then commanded by Colonel Aaron S. Daggett, 14th Infantry. About November 18th I was given command of four companies of the 4th Infantry, two troops of the 11th Cavalry (dis- mounted) and two pieces of Reilly’s Battery, and 318 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ordered down the road towards Das Marinas, to reconnoitre. I was directed to await the return from a reconnaissance towards San Nicolas of the main body of the 4th Infantry before I could leave Imus. This handicapped me very much, for it delayed till after mid-day my departure from Imus. Until then there had been no failure to get a fight on that road after leaving Imus a half, or three quarters of a mile. I divided my infantry and dismounted cavalry into two battalions, taking one company from Capt. Austin Brown’s four-company battalion of the 4th Infantry and adding it to Major Dennis Nolan’s two (dismounted) troops of the 11th Cavalry. Twenty picked men as scouts, under Lieut. Wray, 4th Inf., led the way, marching abreast in open skir- mish line, formed across the broad road. The other infantry and dismounted cavalry marched down the road in single file, with plenty of distance between men, to enable them to walk comfortably. The two pieces of artillery were placed, according to my recollection, immediately following the second com- pany of the leading battalion, which was that of Capt. Brown. Two ambulances followed the rear company, with a strong rear guard still farther to the rear. As commanding officer I had with me as adjutant, Lieut. Faulkner, 14th Infantry, who did good service that day, galloping back and forth, along the road, much of the time under fire. There was lots of water in the rice paddies and in the ditches along the road. From the time we were half a mile from Imus till we had returned to about the same place we were under fire, sometimes from both sides of the road at the same time. Now and then one of our men would be hit, and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 319 then put in the ambulance. The Filipinos kept them- selves so well under cover that I can’t say that I saw any with weapons, though some of them were at times visible in the high grass several hundred yards away. Whenever the fire got hotter than usual the column would be halted, and we would do our best to locate and punish the snipers. Our progress became slow, as we had to fight our way along, and when the sun was only an hour high we were four miles from Imus. As a reconnaissance we had located the enemy and had scattered every body of natives that we saw, but we never knew what damage we did with our rifles and two cannon. When a company would go into the fields after them they would vanish, and our men would have to return without, apparently, having accomplished anything. Finally we went as far as I thought necessary, the firing having died out, and then we stopped and rested. After half an hour’s rest, and inspection of all the empty shacks along the road at that point, we started back to Imus. We had rested without being dis- turbed by a shot, and the natives had not allowed us to get anywhere near them, and there was nothing to do but to go home, the same way we had come. W T e made the “about face,” and began the march, and hardly had we moved two hundred yards towards Imus when firing began from both flanks and the rear. My formation and plan of march under such dis- agreeable conditions were as follows: The entire column faced about, and the two pieces of artillery under command of Lieut. Manus McClosky were moved towards Imus and halted between the two battalions, and a hot fire begun by all who could see, or in any other way locate the enemy. 320 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The natives would then be quiet for a while, and the rear battalion would, in column of files, pass to the head of the column followed by the two cannon, the original leading battalion increasing the fire whenever the enemy appeared or would fire on us. All the time the scouts kept closed to the proper distance of two or three hundred years from the rear element of the company at that time in rear of the column. By an alternate movement of battalions the march back to Imus was conducted as explained, and it was as well done as such a movement could be done under fire. There was no confusion resulting from w r hat was almost a parade ground movement executed under fire. There were eleven men wounded, none killed, or mortally wounded. We reached Imus well after dark, and then Lieut. Faulkner and I rode on alone to Bacoor, along the road where we could not have ridden during daylight without being shot at. I had accomplished all that I was told to do. If allowed to start several hours earlier we might have been able to do more. At any rate it would have been more satisfactory to us, to have had more day- light, more time to locate and pursue the native snip- ers. The whole movement was executed skilfully and well, and with little damage, yet I have always felt badly over that affair, the same as regarding my attempt to cross the Maraquina River three months previously. The return to Imus was really a move- ment in retreat, and, at the same time, it was what was expected we would have to do. We had to return that same day, having no rations, or other preparations to remain out all night. So we had to move back to Imus, with the insurrectos hanging on to our flanks A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 321 and rear nearly the whole distance, which was surely very disagreeable. Most of our wounded were hurt during the march out. We did no damage to property, but we should have burned what was evidently an insurrecto headquarters, and all adjacent buildings should have gone, too. But we did not dare to do it, for we were too close to Manila, and besides, I had only recently investigated the 14th for such conduct. In the fight described, Major Dennis Nolan showed up particularly well, though he rashly remained the entire time on his big black horse, a splendid target. Every time I saw him, and it was frequently, he was perfectly cool, he had even a smile on his face, and he executed every order with promptness and exactness. Lieut. McClosky handled his cannon splendidly, and in thorough enjoyment of the maneuver, especially the fighting. Lieut. Chaney, 4th Inf., also distinguished himself by the efficient manner in which he handled his company. Unfortunately, he was killed a few weeks later, in a fight near Imus. About a week after the skirmish described, on the night of November 25th, I believe, the insurrectos showed their strength by attacking Imus. From about 2 a.m. till almost daylight they kept up a continuous fire, using now and then a small cannon of some description, which we heard firing from time to time from a safe distance. They never brought it near enough for us to be able to locate it. From my bed at Bacoor I could plainly tell that our people replied in volleys, although the distance was about three miles, straight. After a while the firing at Imus slackened, and then there commenced a lively fusilade at the “Bloody Bend,” where Capt. Eldridge shortly 322 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY before had been killed. Lieut. Nicklin and his com- pany of the 4th Inf. had some trenches there, and returned better than they received. Finally there was some firing at the Bacoor outposts, where day- light showed one or two dead natives. As a result of so much firing only two or three natives were positively known to have been killed, and no one on our side was hurt except a Chinaman at Imus who exposed himself unnecessarily. The firing at Imus was so fast for about two hours that it resembled, in continuity of sound, the pouring of small shot on paper, it being impossible to separate individual sounds. Yet it amounted to practically nothing, so far as concerned any damage done, on either side. After my October inspection of the Inf. at Calamba I had reported certain unsatisfactory conditions existing there, and, according to our Army Regulations, I was directed to suggest the remedy, and I had done so. My recommendation had been, in effect, to substitute for the two companies I had found located in an irrigating ditch a little aggressive activity beyond the small river close to Calamba, thus making it impossible for an insurrecto to remain as near as a mile to the river. I recommended certain other changes, in the interest of the good health of the companies concerned. The old Colonel of the — th Inf. had previously been a good friend of mine, and in my original report I had refrained from suggesting the remedy for the condi- tions reported, giving instead, so clear a description as to make it unnecessary, in my opinion. Bub, I was ordered, by telegraph, to submit additional report suggesting the remedy, and I did so, promptly. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 323 In making my next inspection of Calamba I tele- graphed to the Colonel from Bacoor, and I telegraphed again from Manila, of my coming. I did so because the boat landing at Calamba was about a mile from his quarters in town, and there were no soldiers at the landing, or near it. When I arrived at Calamba no one was at the landing to meet me, and I had, therefore, to carry my suit case a long mile to the Colonel’s quarters. I found him not very glad to see me, which I took no notice of. Next morning he made an opportunity to refer to my recommendation about “aggressive activity beyond the river.” I stood by my recommendation, and I made it very plain. The fine old man was nearly 64, and his du- ties had made him very nervous. My inspections had been rather easy and simple. One of the items I had to inquire into was the per- centage of men of previous service in each new volun- teer regiment just arrived in the Philippines. I found that one regiment had nearly 50 per cent of such men, and none had less than 30 per cent. Some of our men deserted to the insurrectos, from both white and colored troops, and those deserters gave us lots of trouble, but they were not so numerous as to be organized as a company, much less as a battalion, which happened in the war with Mexico, when so many Irish deserted that the Mexicans organized them as the “San Patricio” Battalion which fought hard against us in many fights, and, finally, was annihilated at Chapultepec, the majority of the survivors captured, tried by Court Martial and executed. One day, at Bacoor, the enlisted men of the 14th Infantry brought to the headquarters a man whom 324 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY they claimed to be a deserter. The General was absent, and I examined very carefully the supposed deserter from our Army. Then I said to the men, after trying in vain to get the prisoner to talk to me in English, or in Spanish, “Look at his feet, men, see how wide his toes are, and how the big toe separates so far from the rest. It looks like he has climbed many a cocoanut tree, doesn’t it?” And they had to admit that such was the case. “And his mouth and teeth, men, all discolored from long chewing of the betel nut. No American soldier has been here long enough to work such a change. What do you think?” Again the men had to admit that it looked that way. “ And look at the expression of his face. How long, do you think, would it take for an American soldier to get that beastly and idiotic expression?” The men shook their heads and admitted that they had made a mistake. “He is one of nature’s freaks, men. He is what the Spaniards call an ‘albino,’ and undoubtedly had an American, or European father from some passing ship, to account for his red hair, red and freckled face, blue eyes and big frame, but he is only one of the biggest idiots among the Filipinos.” I may have been badly mistaken as to the albino’s intellect. I afterwards learned that the native could put on, for the occasion, various expressions of the face when needed as a disguise. Late in December, 1899, the 38th Volunteers arrived, and went into camp on the Luneta, in Manila. I was immediately notified of such arrival, and ordered to join my regiment and I hastened to report for duty as its lieutenant colonel. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 325 I have never, so far as I know, received any order relieving me from duty as brigade inspector, and, six months after joining the 38th Vols. I was ordered on more inspection duty. While at Bacoor I had often made inquiries among the natives from Batangas Province, and I learned that Lipa was considered to be the nicest town in that province, or in any other, outside of Manila. The last word in description of the town was, frequently, to the effect that Lipa had 200 houses with galvanized iron roofs, and many rich families. It was generally believed that there must soon be a “Southern Hike,” or campaign through the provinces of Laguna, Batangas and Tayabas, and while still at Bacoor I became so imbued with the belief that my new regiment would take part in it that I used to tell my comrades at Bacoor that I was to land in command of Lipa with five companies, and that my colonel would go to Batangas with the other seven companies. This, for weeks and weeks prior to the arrival of Col. Geo. S. Anderson and his 38th Vols. CHAPTER XIV From our camp on the Luneta, early in January, 1900, the 38th Volunteers marched at night to Paranaque, Las Pifias and Bacoor. I drew Las Pinas where I remained only a very few days, for I was ordered to investigate an officer of the 37th Vol., and for that purpose I had to visit his post on the upper Passig River, some ten miles from Manila. On thorough investigation I found nothing against the officer, and I so reported on my return. The “Southern Hike” finally began. Generals Bates and Wheaton, with several regiments, including the 38th, started out from Imus. Our regiment camped first night at Das Marinas, about ten miles from Imus. A few shots were exchanged along the road, with little, if any, damage to either side. At Das Marinas I found a nice pool to bathe in, which I did, in com- pany with many other officers, among them being James Parker, Class of ’76, then Lieut. Col. of Dorst’s regiment of volunteers. He was at Calamba during my last two inspections of that post. About sunset Colonel Anderson returned to camp with written instructions which he handed to me to read. The order directed him to proceed that night to Silang, and next day to Talisay on Lake Taal, and thence to go into Batangas Province. It was rather vague and indefinite in the winding up, and I promptly 326 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 327 proposed to my colonel that we go to Lipa and Batangas, and from the latter place to notify head- quarters where we were. This seemed to please Anderson, and that night we marched about ten miles to Silang, and slept till day in the road, and after breakfast we continued our hike to Talisay. This day was January 11, 1900, on which same day my sister Annie died, back in God’s Country. The entire march from Bacoor to the bluffs above Talisay was one steady and very gradual rise, at no time amounting to a hill, yet when we arrived at those bluffs overlooking Lake Taal we found that we were many hundred feet above the waters of that lake, and that we could look down into the smouldering crater of the volcano on the little island in the middle of the lake. A long halt was made, to allow all of us to enjoy the beautiful panorama presented to our view. I have never seen its equal anywhere else. We saw Manila back in the distance, and straight ahead was spread out the entire lake, volcano, and river draining the lake into salt water near Taal. To our south we could see Batangas, Bauan and Taal, three of the largest towns outside of Manila, all on salt water, and beyond them were several little islands and finally a big island, Mindoro. To the north we saw the Laguna de Bay, and one or two islands in it. Beyond Lake Taal, in our front, we saw mountain ranges the other side of Lipa. I have never seen anywhere else any natural landscape to compare with that, for beauty and variety. After resting at that spot about half an hour we began the descent to Talisay, situated on the lake. The path was very steep, winding and narrow. In some places much travel had cut deep trenches in the 328 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY soil, like railroad cuts, only much more narrow. When about 300 yards from the lake level the insurrectos opened fire on us from the jungle on the flanks and in front. We returned the fire, but I can’t say that I saw an armed enemy. We had one man hit, and I doubt if our firing did any greater damage, still it was a skirmish, and the Filipinos should with proper handling and better marksmanship, have inflicted serious loss on us. But, they rarely showed any heart for a real scrap, and usually let out all their courage in one volley at the advance guard point, and then they ran. The 38th Vols. was organized at Jefferson Barracks, Mo., and had a number of regulars and ex-regulars among the officers, including the colonel, Anderson, the lieutenant colonel myself, and three majors, Muir, Holbrook and Glennan, the last being regimental surgeon, and a fine one. The adjutant was an ex-cadet from West Point, and the quartermaster had been a non-commissioned officer of regulars. Other officers had seen service in previ- ously raised volunteers, among them my captain in the 9th Immunes, Robert M. Nolan, an excellent officer. About 30 per cent of the enlisted men had seen previous service, either with regulars or with volunteers. This sprinkling of regulars among the high up officers, assisted by other officers of previous service, also by the 30 per cent of enlisted men of former service, soon made the regiment a fine one. We remained at Talisay till next morning, when we started around the north end of the lake to Tanauan. While we were going around the end of the lake there occurred a lamentable tragedy somewhere along that long, crooked, winding and steep path down which we had marched the previous day. Lieut. Stockley, of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 329 the Infantry, was with Lieut. Mervin Ruckey, F. A., at the top of the hill, and he volunteered to go down and find us, somewhere at the bottom. They had two light field pieces, on pack mules, and they wished to overtake us. We knew nothing at all of their being there, or of their intentions. In his efforts to reach us Stockley was alone, and was never seen again, and no certain information was received afterwards as to what became of him. Several miles before reaching Tanauan we saw Col. Bullard and some of his regiment, the 39th Vols. that I had inspected at Calamba a couple of times. We saw a battalion of the 37th Vols., also Lieut. Summerall with two pieces of Reilly’s battery. All these people had come out from Calamba, the old colonel of the 21st Infantry being no longer in com- mand there. We persuaded Bullard to go with us, also Summerall. That night, the 12th of January, we spent in Tanauan, and the next morning we started for Lipa. When several miles out from Tanauan, the 38th Vols. being in front, we had quite a spirited skirmish, and killed seven or eight insurrectos, and lost one or two of our good men. The 39th Vols., excepting one company, also the rear battalion of the 38th, remained in the road, showing that the fight was easily won by us, and then we resumed our march. On arriving at Lipa we saw at the windows of the biggest and best houses many Spanish prisoners wav- ing hats, hands and handkerchiefs at us, and soon we saw those men in the street, about 130 of them, all wildly delighted and loud with “vivas” for the “Americanos.” There were quite a number of officers among those prisoners, one of them being the colonel 330 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY who had been in command at Lipa. He had held the convent and big church until wounded, and then he surrendered the town and garrison. He was stationed in the church tower when he was wounded. From the prisoners we immediately inquired about the former garrison, and their whereabouts, also con- cerning American prisoners, especially Ensign Gilmore of the Navy. This young naval officer had been cap- tured at Baler some months previous, and he was being looked and searched for by every Army detach- ment, ourselves no exception. We, too, wanted to rescue Gilmore. We were informed by those Spanish prisoners that the insurrectos had retreated down the road to Rosario, a town of several thousand inhabitants and about six miles distant, also that they had a number of American prisoners. Cols. Anderson and Bullard seemed possessed with the idea of instantly following. Our advance guard point, on foot, had by that time begun to arrive. We mounted officers had, in our eagerness, ridden ahead of the troops a little. Mounted officers and mounted orderlies were hastily counted, and inquiry made for a guide, and the Span- ish prisoners promptly furnished one. Captain Martinez was immediately given a government horse which a mounted orderly had been riding. I reminded Col. Anderson that it was very reckless and desperate to pursue a retreating force of uncertain strength with only a dozen men. He remarked that he couldn't miss an opportunity to rescue Gilmore. And Bullard called out, “Come on, Crane.” I have never been rash, but I felt that I had to join in this foolhardy dash on Rosario, or show the white feather. So I said, “All right, then, I’ll go with you, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 331 but I’ll go prepared to fight a little. I want a rifle, and belt full of cartridges.” All the officers then promptly followed my example, and armed them- selves, not having, apparently, thought of it till then. Captain Martinez was a fine specimen of the Span- ish officer. He started down that road to Rosario at a fast gallop, and we stopped only once or twice on the way. Once we stopped to take a fine bolo (Filipino made sword) from a native and give it to Martinez, for, till then, he had no weapon. We were a dozen mounted men, but at our first halt we sent back one of the party to bring on two infantry companies. I rode a big, black government horse, very fat and very slow, so that I brought up in the rear all the way to Rosario. Martinez was well ahead all the time, and, now and then, he would look back and wave us on. Along the entire distance there were flying fugitives from Lipa crowding the road, till we arrived within 150 yards of them, when the rear of the mob would melt away, out in the fields on both sides of the road. Once in the fields they vanished easily, and quickly. When we got in the streets of Rosario our little army scattered, pursuing different parties down different streets, and I actually found myself galloping along with no one ahead of me. About that time I discovered the big church and convent, and started for it, alone. I remembered how the convent was usually occupied by the garrison of a town, and I hoped to find something there, and I was not disappointed. Soon I saw heads at the con- vent windows. While I was tying my horse 30 yards from the building I saw Spanish prisoners coming down the steps at the front entrance, and I met them there. They were shouting “Viva Americanos” and 332 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY perhaps other words, and they wanted to hug me and tell me how they loved the Americans. Either Beverly Read, Regimental Adjutant, or Lieut. W. G. Doane, Battalion Adjutant, joined me that instant. After much effort to learn from our Spanish friends where to find their former guard of Filipinos I ascertained that the valiant five insurrecto soldiers had fled, early in the game. Then our party began to collect at the church and convent . No one had killed anybody, or had captured any important prisoner. Once or twice a Spanish prisoner tried to tell me something about “mucho dinero” (lots of money), but I had so often heard that said of Americans, usually a prelude to begging, that I failed to get the man’s meaning. Colonel Bullard had more patience, and he learned from that man that the “Presidente” (Mayor) of Rosario had in his yard many boxes of silver money, all ready to be carried away in a cart. We hurried to that yard, and there we saw about twenty boxes, nailed up and heavy. On being well shaken some of them gave unmistakable sounds of metal, and that called for further investigation. One box was partly opened, and it was found to contain silver coin, mostly Spanish pesos, worth half a dollar each. We took from the enterprising Spanish prisoners a caromata (two wheel buggy) and pony, and put half the boxes in it, and we put the other half of the boxes in another caromata, and told our liberated Spaniards to bring it on, and then we started back to Lipa. Before starting back another messenger was sent, to hurry on the two companies of fighting soldiers. The second messenger was Captain Read, the Adjutant of the regiment. I took special charge of the two A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 333 vehicles loaded with money, and I soon noticed that Lieut. Doane was with me. I also noticed that the others got uncomfortably far in advance of us. A mile or two from Rosario we saw a pony tied up, in a yard along the road, and I had one of our Spanish substitutes for horses go and get it, and then hunt up some kind of harness to attach the pony to the caromata. After that our progress was faster. Two miles from Rosario we met the two companies, and our travel back to Lipa was no longer dangerous. We had captured some twenty thousand pesos of what we believed to be insurrecto funds, and we had released about 130 Spanish prisoners at Lipa, and 70 more at Rosario. I believe that when the Spanish prisoners rescued at Lipa learned that we were looking for American prisoners to rescue, they purposely deceived us about their being in Rosario, in the hope that our rapid ride there would liberate their own comrades impris- oned at that place. I never blamed them one bit for that small piece of deception, and Capt. Martinez was a fine fellow. In the ride to Rosario there took part two colonels, one lieutenant colonel, one major, one or two captains and one or two lieutenants, besides several mounted orderlies and Capt. Martinez. Perhaps we would have gone on to San Jose that same day but for the arrival of a mounted messenger from General Schwan, with orders for all of us to halt and wait for him. We obeyed the order. I have always believed that the hike breaking into those provinces of Cavite, Laguna, Batangasand Tayabas was intended to pave the way for a small shower of stars, and that we got 334 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY into some other man’s apple orchard, and spoiled some plans. We rested at Lipa the next morning, and in the afternoon we started towards Batangas, using both roads, the 38th going to San Jose and bivouacking there for the night. Really, we bivouacked every night, sleeping somewhere, and we got something to eat somehow, mostly by cooking it ourselves in our meat cans and tin cups. During the entire hike from Bacoor to Batangas and back to Lipa I cooked my own food and fed my own horse. I don’t know which fared the worse, my horse or myself. I know that my good black horse was much neglected, and my after troubles with my stomach I have attributed greatly to my having eaten so much food of my own cooking. We stopped only a couple of days at Batangas, part of the regiment going to Bauan, the main body of our little army under Gen. Schwan going on through Tayabas Province and back through that of Laguna. Headquarters, Band and 1st Battalion of the 38th remained in garrison at Batangas, the 3rd Battalion took station at Rosario, and I went back to Lipa with Major Holbrook and the 2nd Battalion. We left Bauan for Lipa after supper, and marched as far as San Jose, where we stopped, cooked another square meal and rested till day. I came very near being a true prophet regarding my station at Lipa. I got the main essentials correctly. As a result of the operations from Das Marinas to Lipa and Rosario I received the following commenda- tion from my regimental commander: “Extract from report of Col. Anderson, of oper- ations of the 38th Infantry, from 10th of January to 14th January. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 335 But I did observe acts of particular heroism on the part of , Lieut. Col. Crane,— — , and I commend for their gallantry, and those who followed him to Rosario (Lieut. Col. Crane, was among this number). Headquarters 38th Vol. Inf., Batangas, Luzon, P. I. July 16, 1900. Official copy furnished Lieut. Col. Crane, 38th Vol. Inf., for his information. By order of Col. Anderson: (Signed) B. A. Read, Capt. 38th Vol. Inf. Adjutant. Lipa was about the richest, most enlightened and best blooded town in the islands. A native told me that “when we had coffee” there were a dozen millionaires in the place. But, a bug, or a worm got at the coffee bush, and during my ten months at Lipa I saw only one or two quarts of native coffee. The insects had done well their work of destruction. The limits, or “ comprension ” of Lipa extended nine miles by ten, forming a rectangle, and containing 45 barrios, or precincts. About three fourths of all the land out- side city limits, of ten thousand people living in the town proper, was owned by not more than five fam- ilies, and those families had many houses and lots in the city itself. It was a common thing to hear a man speak of his “barrio so and so” just ougtide of town, where we knew there was quite a church and a village of 50 to a 100 houses. The great body of those people, while under the Spaniards, were really slaves through peonage. That was explained to me, by an influential 336 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY native, as having been brought about in the following manner : “ A young native wishes to marry, or, perhaps he is already married and has nothing for himself and bride to live on, so he goes to a land owner and states his case. The land owner willingly accepts a new tenant. He has a small farm measured off and assigned to the young man, also one or two work animals and some farm implements, and the young people begin life. With only his bolo the young Filipino builds a shack on stilts, like those of his neighbors. He uses the same, or a heavier bolo as an ax, or hatchet, and cuts down small trees, bushes and grass with it, uses the bodies of small trees for rafters, uprights and strong beams, and of the grass he makes a roof for his house, the same grass and some vines furnishing him with something with which to tie the grass and all manner of beams. Not a nail, nor a saw, nor a hammer, is used in the building of such a house, and there are many thousand such houses in the islands. “ Food of the simplest kind is advanced the young people, and anything else desired by them is readily supplied by the gracious land owner, who keeps a strict record of everything.” The result is, that family never emerges from debt, no matter how hard they try. The other man has the books, which are always made to show a heavy balance against the poor peon, and he remains practically a slave, and his children are in the same condition, and their descendants continue so. In this manner the rich land owner had the opportunity to collect hun- dreds and even thousands of slaves for debt, and he did it. Many others did it. Under Spanish rule those poor peons could not go elsewhere and begin a new life so long as the landlord insisted that his books A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 337 showed that “Pedro,” or “Jose” owed him “so many” pesos. One day at Lipa that same influential native came to me and requested me to compel a young woman, a “ dependiente ” of his, to return to him. I had to inform him that we recognized no such institution as a state of peonage like that he had described to me, and that the matter of employer and employee was one to be settled by the agreement of the people con- cerned, and not according to the wishes of only one of them. I never heard of the case again. Nearly thirty thousand of the forty thousand people accredited to Lipa belonged to the class of peons just described. Of course our stay in the islands has greatly disturbed such a condition, but I do not believe that peonage is entirely extinct, or that it will cease to exist for many years to come. Lipa is seven miles from San Jose, and from that place to Batangas it is about sixteen miles. Cuenca, on Lake Taal, is eight or ten miles from Lipa. From Lipa to Tanauan the distance is about thirteen miles; thence to Santo Tomas five more, and from the last named place to Calamba, on the Laguna de Bay, some ten more. As previously stated, the distance from Lipa to Rosario is six miles. In the beginning we had garrisons at Rosario, Lipa, Tanauan, Santo Tomas, Batangas, Taal and Calamba. Lipa was a central point, and troops and transportation passed through there very frequently. Most of our supplies came from Batangas, and each garrison of the 38th Inf. furnished its own transpor- tation and escort of soldiers. This made lots of work for us, and it gave the natives many opportunities to annoy us, of which they did not often avail them- 338 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY selves. From Rosario the 3rd Battalion transportation had to pass through Lipa and San Jose in going to Batangas under escort every time that battalion wanted supplies. On one occasion a young lieutenant of the 3rd Battalion, with a detachment of 25 men, escorted a wagon train, and he stopped midway be- tween San Jose and Lipa, en route from Batangas, and lunched there, both men and animals, intending to come on through Lipa and reach Rosario the same afternoon. I was at mid-day dinner with my officers when we were suddenly informed by a bareback mounted messenger from the wagon train that the train and escort were being attacked at the spot where the creek and the road ran close together for several hundred yards, the road for that distance being fifteen or twenty feet lower than the ground 50 to 75 yards away, on both sides, and, with the thick jungle at the rising ground the location offered fine opportunity for ambuscade. The chief wonder was that the Natives did not use that place for such purpose oftener. The train had been halted for lunch in that place, had lunched and fed the mules, and then, when the hitching up began, there was an interruption from the insurrectos, who were posted along the high ground, in the thickest jungle. An ideal spot for an ambuscade! No experienced soldier could imagine it a proper place to halt in for such a purpose, under the conditions then existing in the islands, and that halt can be accounted for only by the youth and short service of the lieutenant in command. In five minutes, with three companies, we were going down that road as fast as men can walk for four A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 339 miles. I rode my big black horse and was in front excepting for the point which was some 200 yards ahead of me. We made no halt, and after half an hour of marching we could see, ahead of us, much smoke where we expected to find the wagons. Of course I thought the wagons were burning in front of me, and then we went a little faster. After a little longer we saw, far in front of us, a solitary man standing in the middle of the road, apparently on outpost duty. At first I believed him a native, but soon I recognized the attitude and bearing of the American soldier, and then I knew that the train was safe. But we did not slacken our pace, and soon we reached the sentinel in the road, and from him learned that the wagon train had passed through the gulch. Going on we passed by the train and went down into the gulch, after sending Capt. Nolan and his company to go through those places where I imagined that the insurrectos were posted in ambush. Two dead mules and one dead insurrecto, and piles of hay showing where the mules had been fed, were the only evidences of the skirmish. A frightened teamster, in order to escape from some insurrectos who had ap- peared in the road, jumped down into the deep and dark creek. He was recaptured many months later. The only way to account for so little bloodshed on that occasion is to ascribe it to the poor fighting qualities of the Filipino under his own leaders, his poor marksmanship, also to the short service and poor shooting of our men. Having inspected the scene of the halt I went out and investigated the places which had been used as hiding for those in ambuscade. I saw one or two spots where I counted 20 or 30 empty cartridge shells, at each place. Nolan’s men had a 340 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY dead insurrecto out in the bushes, claimed by him as having been one killed by his men sent to search the meanest looking places. Going back into the road along the gulch I noticed again what had really caused the smoke, houses burning. I then remembered remarking as I rode from Lipa down into the gulch, “Why did they spare that house?” at the same time pointing out the best looking house in sight, most of the houses along the road for some distance being in flames. On my return to the gulch that house, also, was burning. When I made the remark I imagined that my adjutant was the only man who had heard me, but I must have been mistaken. Twenty or thirty houses nearest the ambuscade, and some of them in a hundred yards of it, were burnt. The men living in those houses were evidently implicated in the attempt on my wagon train, and the burning of their houses was most just retribution and retaliation, and it had a fine effect. From that day we called the scene of that little fight the “dead man’s gulch,” and no other detachment was so heed- less as to risk destruction by halting there. Any other men of the 38th Vols. so offending, would have been tried by court martial. The offenders in the incident described were not under my command, otherwise the matter would not have ended with the skirmish. Rosario was somewhat nearer the mountains than Lipa was, and the road beyond Rosario and towards Tabayas Province had a bad reputation, because of unfriendly natives. Therefore I persuaded Major Goodier, at Rosario, to join me in a scout through the mountains nearest his station. With three of my com- panies I marched in the afternoon to Rosario, joined Goodier and two of his companies, then we went on A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 341 several miles further and stopped for the night, right in the road. Next morning early we started for the mountains, and lost much time crossing some rough creeks and ravines which we did not know about. In crossing one of those streams my horse fell into a deep ravine, or ditch, and I had to pull him out by the bridle reins, assisted greatly by the animal’s strength and fine intelligence. My men were close by looking on, and they were so pleased by the horse’s exhibition of real intelligence that they raised a big shout, and from that hour my big, clumsy black steed was a great favorite with the men of the 2nd Battalion. Captain David Allen was with us on that hike, not having yet gone to Bauan, and he proved his marching ability that day, in those mountains. We saw a few insurrectos a long way off, fired a few shots at them and hurt no one, apparently. Midday found us on the top of the ridge nearest Rosario and Lipa, and there we ate so much green corn from a small field close by that I, for one, was given a severe stomach ache by indulgence in over-eating. Captain Allen was a wonderful man. He was left over from the Civil War, in which he did good service, and in the Philippines he did better than good service. His natural disposition was very kind and very so- ciable, but when he started on a hike after Filipinos every hair on his face stood a bristle, and it was “all off” as regarded any individual friendship which he may have had among the natives. Indeed, it seemed to me that he used his social relations with the natives as a means of getting valuable information. Despite his years and weight he always walked every step with his men, and he was most aggressive and ener- getic in looking for opportunities for a march. My 342 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY description of Captain David Allen, 38th Vols. and of Captain Allen Walker, Philippine Scouts has always been the quotation from Byron, “As mild mannered a man as ever cut a throat or scuttled a ship,” though neither one of them was ever cruel. Many times those two men of kind and mild dis- positions performed most excellent and valuable serv- ice in the Philippines, and I know of no others who did as much execution and good work generally, in the same length of time and with so little means. Soon after the ambuscade at “Dead man’s gulch” the garrison at Rosario was discontinued. Major Goodier and three companies of the 3rd Battalion took station at San Jose, and Captain Allen, with his lone company, went on to Bauan. Shortly after that change of station we started out from Lipa very early one morning for Cuenca, having heard that two insurrecto colonels might be caught there. We expected to arrive at Cuenca before sun- rise and bag our game, but the distance was longer, and the marching harder than we expected. Besides, we had a couple of small brushes with insurrectos on the road, so that, when we arrived at Cuenca we found that Captain Allen and his company of the 3rd Battal- ion, stationed at Bauan, had beaten us to Cuenca and had captured the very men we were after. During the spring of 1900 I was ordered to Manila, to be examined for promotion to major of regulars. The examination lasted only half an hour, in all. and then I returned promptly to Lipa, and in about a week after returning I received an order detailing me on a Board of Officers to examine into the qualifica- tions and efficiency of some volunteer officers. Of course I returned to Manila as soon as I could. I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 343 found that I was the senior member of the Board, the others being Lieut. Cols. Ducat and Jerome. The former was my comrade from the 24th infantry, and the latter was an old-time officer of the New York militia. We examined four officers, and as a result of our findings and recommendations one of them was honorably discharged, and the Army was thus freed from the encumbrance of one inefficient officer. That duty kept me in Manila several weeks, and I was convinced that I could have remained there several weeks more, had I desired to do so. It seemed to me that field officers were much needed there for duty on General Courts Martial and on all sorts of Boards, but that did not suit me, and I left as soon as I could get permission to go. One day, while I was in the office of the Adjutant General at Manila, in came the old officer whose regiment I had been inspecting at Calamba. During the course of the conversation, and in explanation as to the cause of his long absence from Manila, he said, “I have been besieged at Calamba for months.” Apparently he was very proud of having been thus besieged. The Adjutant General made no reply to that remark, and I said nothing. The old man had missed too many ships homeward bound, but he was soon afterwards sent back to God’s Country and placed on the retired list. In June, 1900, I was ordered by the brigade com- mander, Col. Birkhimer, then stationed at Calamba, to report there for instructions. With my little detachment of five or six mounted men on native ponies I went there immediately, and, without having given the matter sufficient consideration, I sent back 344 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY to Lipa all my men except my mounted orderly. This young soldier had attracted my attention by feeding my good black horse the night of our return to Lipa from Batangas, the middle of January, and because of his love for animals I had kept Private Bladen with me ever since. He was a slow speaking boy from South Carolina, and he had taken pity on my good black horse, and had fed him a couple of times before I could discover who had done it. I soon bought an extra horse, one for him to ride, and he was my mount- ed orderly until he was sent home for muster out. After my men had gone back to Lipa I learned that I was to go to San Pablo and investigate something connected with some cocoanut oil. I was then sorry that my men were gone but I hated to request an escort, because the brigade commander did not men- tion one, and he told me how Bullard was accustomed to ride most of that road alone. I told the brigade commander that I was not as bold as Bullard, and that therefore I would take my mounted- orderly along, as my escort. And I did so. In going to San Pablo, via Santo Tomas and Tan- auan there was a mean town to pass through, Ala- minos, at the point of the mountains where the road has to bend around and then go straight to San Pablo, and I rather expected trouble there. In passing through the place we noticed heads at every window, and much church bell ringing, and I expected then to have to run for our lives, or perhaps be ambuscaded a little further on. Nothing of the kind occurred, and I went on and executed my mission at San Pablo, but, in coming back through that same Alaminos I was on the lookout for bell ringing, and I fully intended to kill the bell ringer for thus informing the people of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 345 our coming. I was saved the trouble, for no bell was rung. So my orderly and I made that ride of about 30 miles from Calamba to San Pablo, and from the latter place back to Calamba, and then continued on our way to Lipa, all without interruption. A few days later Major J. H. Parker, 39th Vols. came with his wife one Sunday from Tanauan, to see our Lipa market. Sunday was our big market day. He brought only two or three mounted men, the entire party being mounted, and the women of Lipa had their first sight of an American lady. She attracted much attention that Sunday. In less than two weeks afterwards a stronger detach- ment of mounted men was ambushed between Tana- uan and Lipa, and they had to run for their lives, and, a few days still later, my escort of about fifteen dis- mounted men, guarding our fresh meat wagon en route from Calamba to Lipa, was attacked, one soldier, one civilian and one mule killed, and the balance had a hard time escaping. It was about 5 p.m. one Saturday, and the first call for my weekly inspection had just been sounded, when our meat wagon came in at full speed, and we were told that an attack on the escort had occurred about three miles from Tanauan, near the same old spot where we had our little scrap that January 13th. Instantly three companies were started up the road, and having no time to get my horse I had to walk with my men. I noticed for the first time that I was no longer a boy. It was a very fast walk, with only a “point” out in front and my young soldiers crowding me hard. After marching four or five miles we came upon signs of the fight and pursuit. 346 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY We found our dead soldier, also the dead civilian, a former volunteer soldier who had stayed in the islands and had become a photographer. He was a recent visitor at Lipa, had been with us on our march to Cuenca and had taken pictures on that trip. He was then on his road to our post, with lots of pictures of the trip to Cuenca. We took the bodies back to Lipa, and buried them the following day. When we arrived at the scene of the ambuscade the insurrectos had shot their bolt, had done the usual amount of damage, and we could see nothing of them except innocent looking natives. It is more than probable that some of the natives who so humbly bent their bodies towards us, and with additional humility rubbed their faces with palm of right hand, from chin to top of forehead and on to back of head, as they had been accustomed to do in greeting Spaniards, had been most active in the fight. Such was their way of doing, and it made our duties doubly trying. The wearing of white clothing, and the use of the word “amigo,” became closely connected, in our minds, with the Filipino manner of fighting. As stated before, the photographer had previously been at Lipa with us, had gone to Cuenca with us and was then returning from Manila with some pic- tures which he had taken on that hike and had devel- oped in Manila. His caromata had just passed our meat wagon when he heard the firing begin. He promptly halted his vehicle and got out with his camera to take some pictures of a real fight. But, seeing a soldier go down, not far from him, he took the dead man’s rifle and began using it, himself. He was soon shot and killed. I reported the circumstances to his people: he had a sister in Manila. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 347 For many months no more riding all alone, or in very small parties, was done on that road, but in a few weeks I received an order to go to Tayabas, and investigate a field officer stationed there, on some charges preferred by a young subaltern. Tayabas was more than 45 miles distant, and the road was through all bad country for Americans in small parties. I mounted as many men as I had serviceable ponies, to act as my escort, nine men in all, and we rode the first day to a small town around the south end of the mountains near San Pablo, and we stopped with the small garrison of our men occupying the convent. The next day we moved on. My little detachment was commanded by a fine boy sergeant named Robert DeWare, a cousin of U. S. Senator C. A. Culberson, of Texas. I could hear the boy speaking with pride of his native state, “down in Texas,” also of the “Colonel and me,” and then I looked well to see who it was. A fine soldier, sure. After thorough investigation of everything con- nected with the case I came to the conclusion that there was too little, if anything, in the charges, to justify further action and I so reported on my return. The case was dropped. In that part of Tayabas province the road passed through great groves of cocoanut trees, more than I saw anywhere else in the islands. Evidently this was the chief industry in that province. “Copra,” the partly dried meat of the cocoanut, is collected in sacks and shipped, mostly to France where the oil is made the basis of many perfumes, soaps and oils. In the Philippines cocoanut oil is used on machinery of all kinds, and our men found it indispensable for keeping their rifles in good condition. 348 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Pretty soon the garrison at Lipa was called on by the regimental commander, at Batangas, to partici- pate in a small combined movement on Loboc, a small town on salt water and about 18 miles from Batangas. We arrived at Loboc about mid-day on the second day, and found Col. Anderson and his troops from Batangas already there. Some of his men had, en route, exchanged a few shots at long range, with the insurrectos, but no one had been hurt. The expedition undoubtedly did much good by opening up to our knowledge new country and new people. The country through which we passed was considered bad country, and the inhabi- tants hostile. San Juan de Boc Boc, still further from Batangas, but nearer to Lipa, was our next point to visit. This place was on salt water, too, and at the mouth of a small river. Orders from our brigade commander re- quired a simultaneous movement on the place from Lipa, Tanauan and Tayabas. We arrived pretty well together, but we found nothing of importance. What few insurrecto soldiers that had been there must have disappeared early and promptly. After marching five or six miles up into the mountains and spending the night there we returned home, our several ways. While we could show no list of casualties on either side, these movements were, nevertheless, of great importance, as showing that the American soldier could and did go anywhere on small provocation, and that no place was safe from our intrusion. This had not been the case with the Spaniards. Capt. John Moore’s company was sent, under the command of Major Holbrook, from Lipa to San Juan de Boc Boc, where they remained a short while and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 349 then moved on to Candelaria, in Tayabas Province. Capt. O. J. Brown’s troop of the 1st Cavalry took the place of Moore’s company at Lipa, and another troop of that regiment was sent to San Juan de Boc Boc, where they remained till our departure from Lipa. It was the custom of the 38th and 39th Volunteers stationed along the road, and next door to each other, when out after insurrectos, to enter their neighbor’s town and garrison and depend on them for food and forage, and this scheme worked well and smoothly. When we had time to telegraph of our coming, we did so, saying something like this, “Detachment 38th Volunteers, two officers, 45 men and eight mules, left for Tanauan 8 p.m.” On arrival at Tanauan the detachment commander would report to the com- manding officer, and would learn that arrangements had already been made to house and feed his detach- ment during their stay at Tanauan. Sometimes it was not practicable to telegraph news ahead of arrival of troops. In that case the detachment commander himself made announcement of the strength of his de- tachment when he reported his arrival, and bountiful hospitality was always furnished the new arrivals. Settlement with the government was always made on the ration returns submitted by the different organiza- tion commanders, by entering thereon the proper additions and subtractions of rations. This practice saved us the bother and cost of transportation of rations and forage, to a great extent, and in this manner we were certainly enabled to travel lighter and faster, and to get ready quicker; all of which tended to increase the probability of success when chasing the elusive Filipino. The carabao, or water buffalo, is the chief beast of 350 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY burden in the Philippines, both for travel and for farm work. His chief delight is the lightest and deepest mud, in which he will lie for hours at a time, entirely covered over, excepting only his eyes, ears and nose. No mud is so boggy as not to be a source of great pleasure to the carabao. His exceedingly broad, cloven hoofs prevent his sinking too deep in the mud, notwithstanding his very large and heavy bones. While working this animal it is absolutely necessary to give it rest and water periodically and often, other- wise the heat causes the poor thing to go crazy for the instant, and savage and liable to run amuck, all of which is no rare occurrence. It seemed to us Americans that the combination of heat, thirst and work was not really essential, to drive the carabao mad, if only an American were present. In my marching and riding in the islands during five years’ service there, I saw many carabaos tied, close to the road, or trail, and I never saw a single one tighten the rope by getting farther from us: on the contrary I saw many carabaos tighten the rope by trying to get nearer to us. On more than one occasion I heard the click of some soldier’s rifle, as the man passed near the tied animal. One soldier of the 38th Vols. lost his life from being gored by a carabao, and at least two more were wounded by those strange animals. On one occasion the man was saved by falling, or being thrown against a fallen tree, and then hugging the ground and the tree as he lay alongside of it, while the beast tried to get his horn at the right angle to reach the man. Of course the soldier’s com- rades were not long in putting an end to such a condition of affairs. Any Filipino, and many Chinamen, seemed per- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 351 fectly safe from danger, if the animal were not too hot and hard worked. I frequently saw one child and sometimes two children riding their work carabao, without bridle, blanket or even a rope. Only once did I ever see an American ride a carabao, and that soldier had just arrived from God’s Country and didn’t know his danger. We were up against queer conditions in our efforts to put down that insurrection. Natives of prominence in their best towns would wear white, and be our best friends, apparently. They would frequently give us information con- cerning some matter of importance, always too late, however. They kept close watch on our every move- ment, and surely gave the insurrectos advance infor- mation whenever possible, and failing that, they would send fleet messengers to race with us to the place where it was supposed we were going. The wealthy and cordial native, so friendly while in sight, was often, at the same time, an officer in the insurrecto ranks, and made frequent visits to his outlying prop- erty, no doubt making those visits serve a double purpose. We could usually buy what we needed, if the article could be found. At Lipa the same man, Paulino Inciong, furnished us with freshly cut grass, fuel and beef. This Paulino was a most interesting fellow, smooth speaking, polite and at the same time a real hustler for business. Of course when we would arrange for an increased amount of grass, wood or beef, Paulino would surely understand that we expected other troops to arrive. But he did not like for any other Filipino to interfere with his business arrange- ments. After eating Inciong’s beef for a number of 352 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY months it somehow happened that we found our- selves eating beef obtained from some other source. The first that I knew of it came from Paulino hi ms elf, who informed me that the insurgents had brought over from the island of Mindoro many fat cattle which had once belonged to the Catholic Church on that island, and that those cattle were being landed on our island, Luzon, and were being driven towards Manila, for sale to any buyer, the proceeds to go to the insurrecto treasury for purchase of arms and ammunition at Hong Kong. He told of a good sized herd having been in our im- mediate neighborhood for several weeks, selling beeves and gradually moving towards Manila. I promptly rode with Capt. Brown and some men of his troop, then a part of my command, to find the cattle. We found them, and brought in to Lipa some 150 to 200 animals, but Paulino told me that the herd had been divided the day before, and that part of it had gone on towards Santo Tomas, but not travelling the main road. I telegraphed immediately to Col. Bullard at Santo Tomas, and he, too, soon had lots of fresh beef without having to pay for it. I divided my beeves with the 38th Vols. at San Jose, Batangas and Bauan, and when we left Lipa we gave some to our friends of the 1st Cavalry at San Juan de Boc Boc. At Lipa there was a fine native musician, in my opinion the best pianist that I ever listened to, and the best organist. He was young, and looked to be younger still, being nearly 30 and looking to be only about 20, and he could get out of a piano and a church organ more real, sweet melody and harmony than I ever heard before, or since. He could read and play from written music with the greatest ease and rapidity A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 353 and apparent perfection, and after listening once to any piece played by the band, he would give us that same piece on the piano, beautifully executed. He was hired to play for our “exchange” from 7 to 9 every night, and after 9 he was frequently taken to some officer’s quarters where he would play longer, being perfectly at home with all fine music a little old. He knew, as his alphabet, the choice parts of “II Trovatore,” “Carmen,” “Faust,” etc. We officers were living in the best houses of Lipa, and there were many pianos there. The fine musician was organist for the cathedral in Lipa, and this building was con- nected with the convent, where some of us lived, by several doors. We always had a strong detachment stationed in the convent, sometimes an entire com- pany, and at the close of our stay in Lipa I lived in the convent with the men on guard and the special duty men, also my regimental staff officers. During church service on Sunday mornings we would have the upstairs big door open, connecting second floor of convent with location of organ, and thus, inside our own quarters, we often listened to that young Filipino play choice selections of old operas mixed in with proper church music. Of course that must have been during parts of the service when he was not required to give only church music. Per- haps it was unauthorized, that beautiful profane music on the church organ and during church service, but it was certainly fine music, and played by an expert who knew when and where to bring in all pos- sible expression. That young Filipino could and did get more and sweeter expression out of piano and church organ than any other person I ever listened to. My officers were just as fond of his music as I was. 354 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY The town of Lipa had more good blood than any other town in the islands, according to my observa- tion, and what others told me. The following is an instance showing that the people were not savages. There were, out in the woods and mountains, with their General Malvar, numerous officers from lieu- tenant to colonel, all from Lipa, and some of them were representatives of the very best families there, the Solis, Catigbac, Luz and other families. For quite a while our fresh beef was sent out from Manila, via Calamba, Santo Tomas and Tanauan, and it was transported in caromatas, two or three times a week. The caromata is a very light, two wheel buggy, pulled by one animal. On one occasion our civilian exchange steward was returning from Calamba and Manila, and was travelling from Calamba with the beef caromata. Somewhere near the spot proven on former occasions to be dangerous, a fine location for an ambuscade, once more it was a bad place, and we lost our beef, and temporarily our exchange steward. Next morning he appeared while we were at break- fast, looking very tired, and travel soiled, but other- wise unhurt. He had been taken, on foot, eight or ten miles, to some place in the mountains, where he saw a number of insurrectos, including some officers from Lipa. One of the officers, a youngster named Tolentino, seemed to be quite a musician, and played away on his banjo, or guitar. Finally, they invited their pris- oner to perform and sing. He could not play, but he sang, by special request, “After the Ball,” many times with many variations, until he wished never to hear that song again. He told them that he was a civilian, not a soldier, and begged to be released, and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 355 he referred them to old Simeon Luz, of Lipa, to verify his statements. They sent a messenger all the way in to Lipa to ascertain from old Luz if the American had told them the truth, and learning that what the exchange steward had said was true, they sent him, under guard, so as to arrive about daylight in sight of Lipa, and only a mile or so distant. They then released our steward, under solemn promise not to betray their place of hiding, or rendezvous. A few days later one of Simeon Luz’s servants came to my quarters, or to my office, and gave me a note, written and signed by two lieutenant colonels from Lipa, Gregorio Catigbac and Gregorio Callao, advising me not to allow my friends to travel the roads unpro- tected when footpads were so numerous. I did not reply to the note, and did not keep the messenger, but I made a mental note of it all, and promised myself to find and visit that rendezvous and call in person on those gentlemen. But I could get no information from the exchange steward, who seemed to be very grateful to those people. It was not long before we moved away from Lipa, so that I never did return the civility of the two Lipa lieutenant colonels. In locating my troops as the garrison of Lipa I posted no outpost in the outskirts of the town, to be always exposed to sudden rush and annihilation, but, instead, the organizations were placed at three differ- ent houses, each capable of strong resistance. One was at the center of the town, one at the church and convent, and the other two in large stone houses on the main street and road, each distant four or five blocks from the center and on different ends of the street. Each of the three dwelling houses was guarded by a single sentinel and by a patrol of one non- 356 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY commissioned officer and seven privates always mov- ing along the road connecting the two outer posts, and passing close to the central one, with orders not to go out into other parts of the town without special authority. The guard was posted at the church and convent, an excellent location. In conversation with the Presidente of Lipa, Valerio Callao, the brother of one of the lieutenant colonels that signed the polite note referred to, I told him, “Now you know that I have no small outposts in the suburbs of the town, for General Malvar to pick up. My garrison is divided into three parts, and you know where they are, and you also know that my patrol is always on the street. Malvar can come any night that may please him, and I will not know it. He can take possession of nearly all Lipa without my knowing it and I won’t know of it until he notifies me in some way, by messenger, or by opening fire on us. In such case, make no mistake about it. We will go after him and take every house from him, but in doing so, that being unusual and dangerous warfare, we will kill every man in every house that we assault, without exception and without regard to white clothes, and we’ll waste no time in guessing at age.” Not a shot was fired at my garrison during our stay of nearly ten months at Lipa. Our successors, under the old colonel previously alluded to, as having been besieged so long, did not have so quiet a time. In one of my trips to Manila I saw Capt. Martinez at General Otis’s headquarters, and I helped him obtain better accommodations on the transport which was to carry him back to Spain. He was booked, and knew of his assignment to a berth which was not comfortable and satisfactory, and he had gone to our A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 357 general to get a better berth. He was leaving the building, unsuccessful, when I arrived on the scene just in time to vouch for him, to tell of his fine service for us and for his comrades at Rosario. Capt. Martinez was very grateful, and I hope that he arrived safely, and that he received proper recognition from his own government, for he was a fine fellow. During that same trip to Manila I saw a young Spanish soldier, named Justo Lopez, who had been wounded in the fighting which preceded the surrender of Lipa, and had been later rescued by our coming. Lopez was mentioned in orders for gallantry in action and was promoted from corporal to sergeant. During his entire captivity he preserved the order, and he also kept concealed a dagger, with point as piercing as that of a needle. The dagger he gave to me, and I have it still. As I was returning to Lipa, via Batangas, and was travelling with the escort to my wagon train, we overtook Justo Lopez and a Filipina, walking along the road and going our way. He explained to me that the woman was his “mujer” (woman), and that they would like to go to Lipa with us. I gave them both a ride on our wagons, and, after talking a good deal with Lopez I employed him as interpreter, at better wages than he ever dreamed of earning. He could not speak English, nor Tagalog, but his woman was a native and could talk to him in Spanish, and he could then explain to us in Spanish what she had said to him. I was so convinced of his loyalty and devotion that I trusted him fully, and I was not disappointed in him. His service was most satisfactory. After a while Lopez saw in Lipa a native who had formerly been a soldier in the Spanish army, and he had no difficulty in per- 358 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY suading the former soldier to come to us. This native was our guide on several occasions, and we always found the place and sometimes the people we expected to find. Of course the native became a marked man, and the result was that, one day our new friend was assassinated in the market place by another native, who had been sent into Lipa for the special purpose of killing the renegade. We finally captured the assassin, in the following manner. A native of very good family had on several pre- vious occasions shown a desire to please us, and he now arranged to inform us the following Sunday, at the cockpit, the instant the assassin was entering the enclosure. He told us where he would sit and requested that we would watch him very closely, so that he would be seen to nod his head the instant the assassin was entering the gate. The scheme worked all right, and we had the right man, but we could get no proof of his guilt, and could only hope that some day he would try to escape from his guard. This, however, the prisoner failed to do, being apparently favorably impressed by our prison fare. I have several times alluded to the good blood and wealth of the people of Lipa. In the house of Bernardo Solis, the former presidente, there were three pianos, one on each floor and at least one huge mirror sunken into the wall of one room. That mirror was frequently hit by rifle bullets during the siege of the Spaniards in the church and convent, for this house was a very important one to the besiegers, being well located as a stronghold for those fighting the garrison located in the church. One of the pianos was located on the ground floor, so as to attract people into a small shop where he had for sale some few articles A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 359 still obtainable. He allowed one of his daughters to play for soldiers there, until I warned him not to do so. At the house of old Torribio Catigbac there were two pianos. One of his daughters played while the other sang, and they could give us any old opera, but no new one. The members of the good families of Lipa were intensely patriotic, and at the same time very kind and courteous. General Wade, in his report written some months after our departure from Lipa, said in substance: “Here, in the provinces of Cavite, Laguna and Batangas, where the most enlightenment, wealth and good blood are to be found, the insurrection will die in its last ditch.” The last insurrecto general of any consequence, Malvar, surrendered at Lipa, thus prov- ing the soundness of General Wade’s prophecy, and increasing the good will and respect which I had always had for the people of Lipa. During the fall of 1900 Col. Anderson was sent with two companies of his regiment to the island of Masbate, where the natives had captured an entire company of U. S. Volunteers of another regiment. While my colonel was thus absent I was in temporary command of the 38th Vols. Commanders of isolated posts were, in those days, given a small sum of money to disburse for informa- tion, rifles, etc. I was lucky enough to have at Lipa an old fellow who was well informed, and willing to sell his information. He belonged to a family which had formerly been very rich and influential. This old timer would, with great secrecy, come to my quarters at night, get very close to me, and hoarsely whisper what he had to say. It was very 360 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY trying to be that close to his disgusting breath, reek- ing with garlic, but it was worth it. On one occasion he told me of a contemplated attack on our troops at Taal, then garrisoned by a battalion of the 28th Vols. (Col. Birkhimer). He gave me almost the exact hour of the night, the day of the month when the attack was to take place. I promptly telegraphed the infor- mation to the Commanding Officer at Taal, and it was lucky that I did so, for the attack was made exactly as my informant had predicted. The result was, of course, a good beating for the insurrectos, and as they retreated away from Taal, along the road to Bauan, they met my friend Allen and his men from Indiana, and another good thrashing was handed them. I think that Allen had heard the firing, and like a good soldier had started towards the sound of the music. On another occasion my old traitor told me that in a certain house in Nasugbu could be found Lieut. Col. Pablo Borbon and Capt. Jose Mayo, both insur- rectos. This information I promptly telegraphed to the Commanding Officer at Nasugbu, and that same night Borbon was captured, but Mayo could not be found. My mysterious old friend told me, at his next visit, how Mayo had escaped, and the old rascal chuckled with satisfaction at his countryman’s shrewd- ness. Mayo was present when our troops raided the house and caught Borbon, but before our men saw him he caught up in his arms somebody’s baby, and by hugging the infant to his breast and looking stupid he passed for an old native father, half idiot and harmless. The Filipino can look very stupid when he wishes to do so. During that fall of 1900 the presidential election in A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 361 the United States took place. William McKinley was candidate for re-election, and William Jennings Bryan was the Democratic candidate. The conduct of the war in the Philippines was closely watched by the Democrats, in the hope of getting therefrom cam- paign data, useful ammunition for use in the approach- ing election. This resulted in the hampering of troops by restrictions and prohibitions of various kinds, tending to prolong the war. Mr. Bryan’s utterances, as published in the newspapers, were gladly noted and carefully cherished by leading Filipinos, who thus grew to look upon the Democratic Party, especially Mr. Bryan, as being very friendly to their cause, and as being inclined to favor their immediate independ- ence. Mr. Bryan was frequently alluded to at Lipa, in my hearing, as “Nuestro Amigo, El Senor Bryan.” (Our friend, Mr. Bryan.) On one occasion, after reading in a newspaper some speech that Mr. Bryan had recently made in the United States, in which he had said something about the Philippines and conditions there, I remarked to my comrades, “This speech will cost us hundreds of lives and millions of dollars,” and others appeared to be of the same opinion. As soon as the election was over a change seemed to pass over the islands, especi- ally as regarded our conduct of military operations. In fact, we began to be a little bolder in taking chances of punishment from Manila, a little prior to the election. I noticed in the Manila papers various news items describing our operations in different places, and showing that some things were happening the like of which had not occurred for many months. These happenings were perfectly regular under our laws of war as laid down in General Orders No. 100, but in 362 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY our grandfatherly fashion of treating the Filipino as our small grandson, we had forgotten that the famous order named really described our approved manner of conducting war. The elections over, changes came fast. It was noticed that the several department commanders were called to Manila for consultation with the division commander, and almost immediately military opera- tions everywhere took on new life and energy. Soon after, there appeared a Division General Order telling us, in effect, that the Division Commander looked for more energetic operations, and stricter application of the provisions of General Order 100. That order, more than any reinforcement of ten thousand men, put an end to the insurrection in the Philippines. Throughout the islands we dropped grandmotherly methods, and applied the recognized laws of war, thus informing the natives what we could properly do under those laws. According to my recollection the order was published sometime in December, 1900, and on June 30, 1901, the war was officially declared to be ended. At least we were so informed by our President, and our volunteers then went home, and were mus- tered out of service. War and politics seldom work well together, and this instance was no unusual proof of it. CHAPTER XV Under the plans for more life and vim in putting down the insurrection the 38th Volunteers were ordered to the island of Panay. This removed us from the province of Batangas, where we had been with the first pioneers. About November 27, 1900, we left Lipa. Before we left, my little Spaniard Justo Lopez gave me that real dagger which he had man- aged to keep concealed for many months, during the time when he was a prisoner of the Philippine army. I commended Lopez very highly to my successors. One battalion and headquarters of the 21st Infantry relieved us at Lipa, and among the officers I was glad to see Capt. Wilhelm, whom I had known at Fort Stanton, N. M., years before. In a few weeks he was killed, in a skirmish in the rough country between Lipa and Alaminos, with two other young officers. Wilhelm was a very valuable officer. I had for some time intended making a thorough drive through that same locality, and expected getting the assistance of the troops at Tanauan and San Pablo. It was the location where Major Holbrook had a scrap with the natives during one of my visits to Manila, and I always intended to go there myself. Having gotten together at Batangas, the regiment sailed on the Army Transport Warren, and landed at Ilo Ho, Panay, for service under Brigadier General 363 364 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Robert P. Hughes. I believe that I once saw that general in Manila, but I did not meet him then. When we landed at Ilo Ilo my classmate, Capt. E. F. Glenn, was Department Judge Advocate, and had just re- turned from a trip to Igbaras and vicinity, which trip he was not likely to forget soon, and I remember well what he described as having happened. In a day or two our plan of campaign was known to some of us, and I was to command the 3rd Battalion of the 38th Vols. in the general movement of troops, and I was to start out first. Coming into a new department, and being new to the commanding gen- eral, naturally I went to call on him in his office. I found him a short, very slender, very straight and easy man in his movements. His figure looked as perfect as that of a boy, but not strong, or muscular. His eyes were blue, and tired looking from much work. His features were very regular, being neither Roman nor Greek in type, but something between the two. His face was always clean shaven, excepting his upper lip; very handsome and very attractive when his eyes would brighten up in friendly talk. When I entered General Hughes’s office he got up to meet me, greeted me very cordially, and imme- diately walked over to a map on the wall, and with a pencil he indicated here and there the roads and trails that I was to follow in my operations, and in a very few words he gave me to understand what he wanted me to do in the coming campaign. He knew and remembered the name of each barrio and creek crossing where our troops had ever been fired on, and I was to visit all of them that were in reach from my line of march. All the same, the General was exceed- ingly mild mannered, and he was kindness itself. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 365 I liked him very much from the very beginning, and I felt sure that I would be able to please him. My men were camped in Jaro, one of the three most important towns in Panay, the other two being Ilo Ilo and Molo. Those three places have their centers at the points of an equilateral triangle, such points being about two miles and a half apart. Ilo Ilo was the port, and was situated on a narrow, salt water estuary, not a real river as it appeared to be. This estuary passed between Ilo Ilo and Jaro under a bridge, and through the outer edge of Molo under an old bridge which was no longer good for the use of animals and vehicles. The finest jusi cloth and the best pina cloth were woven in those towns, especially in Molo, and a great part of the wealth of the island of Panay was con- centrated in those three towns. The harbor itself resembled the old time harbor of Manila, the steamer piers being located along the estuary at Ilo Ilo, like those on the Passig River. With 40 or 50 men mounted on big American horses, about 40 pack mules, and the four companies of the 3rd Batallion under Major Goodier, I started out from Jaro on December 5, 1900. There had been recent rains, and we very soon found soft and boggy roads. At various places a horse, or a pack mule would sink in the bog and cause a delay in the march. At one time we had about 20 animals mired, and getting them out caused considerable work and much delay. Loss of time by such causes made a short march, and we stopped at Leganes the first night. Our march was along country roads and trails connecting the more important points, especially those points which the General had shown me on the map. The result Fas that not a single man of my command suffered 366 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY even a flesh wound for nearly a week. We had a number of small skirmishes, but my force being of such superior strength, such skirmishes merely delayed our march a little. We passed through Le- ganes, Zaraga and Barotac, and we made our first real halt at Dingle, which town we found in ashes, much to our disappointment, because I expected to put my entire command (men) in the convent there. We found only the hollow walls of the church, and used that space as quarters for all my men. Before reaching Dingle, one night while in camp, about 9 o’clock, we were fired on by the natives not more than 75 to 100 yards away. I was sleeping in a very small shack, and could see that there were still some small fires smouldering here and there in my camp, something for the insurrectos to aim at. However, no one was hit, and we did not fire a shot in reply. There was nothing to shoot at. Those shooting at us were evidently as much excited as we were, and they did nothing but fire quickly about twenty shots and then sneak away before we could get out of camp. From Dingle we went out on a number of short expeditions, investigating conditions whenever we heard of anything interesting, not forgetting the places which General Hughes had shown me on the map. Sometimes there would be a small skirmish, an exchange of a few shots, but little, if any, damage to either side from such firing, on account of the excellent cover afforded the natives. Our men seldom saw anything to shoot at. Several miles out from Dingle there was a small mountain ridge, a huge pile of old broken lava, partly covered with earth and a tropical growth of bushes A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 367 and trees. In this mountain there were a number of very interesting caves, in one of which we saw abundant evidence of former occupation by the insur- rectos. Many inscriptions were on the walls, one of the inscriptions reading, as translated, “It is sweet to die for one’s country,” and signed, “Jalandoni,” a young representative of one of the best families on the island of Panay. But, that young fellow, in spite of his burning patriotism and his commission as major, carefully kept out of our way, and, as soon as he could do so after the insurrection was over, he went to Japan, where, according to report, he re- mained hostile and tried to make trouble for us. While destroying some powder, which we found on top of the mountain, one of our men remained too close to the small pile which he set fire to, and, as a consequence, he lost eyelashes and eye brows, and narrowly escaped with eyesight undamaged. I was, at the same time, too close to that powder, but by very quick movement I suffered no injury. From Dingle we participated in a combined move- ment on Mount Singuit, a very high peak in the Antique range of mountains running parallel to the west coast of Panay, and only a short distance from that coast. This peak was visible from a great distance, and at that time it was supposed to be occupied by the main insurrecto force, under General Delgado. Col. Anderson had charge of the entire movement, having under his personal command the 1st Battalion of the 38th, also Capt. Walter Gordon’s mounted scouts of the 18th Infantry under Lieut. Arthur Conger. Major Guy V. Henry, Jr., with his battalion of the 368 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 26th Vols., was just ahead of me on the road which we chose in going towards the base of the mountain, and he had a different point from which to make the ascent. The combined movement worked all right, except that we did not completely surround Delgado and his people, who escaped after making a short fight and causing us to do a lot of hard climbing. The mountain scenery around that high peak was beautiful and grand. After returning to Dingle we went up to Passi, where, in the broad valley south of the town, Capt. “Tiny” Warwick, 18th Inf. was killed in a small fight the year before. But this time our forces were too numerous to provoke a fight, and we just saw the country and returned to our hollow church at Dingle. The Warwick mentioned was the same fine fellow that gave me the oysters when we were both in the cadet hospital at West Point in the spring of 1873. Before Xmas I was ordered to Ilo Ho for duty as president, or senior member of two simultaneous mili- tary commissions, convened to try Filipinos for viola- tions of the laws of war. The Department Judge Advocate, Capt. Glenn, was Judge Advocate of one of the military commissions, and Capt. Fleischhauer, Quartermaster 38th Vols., held that position for the other court. One commission held its meetings in the forenoon, and the other, in the afternoon. I was the only officer on duty with both commissions, but we had the same interpreter for both, one Felipe Gomez, apparently pure Spaniard, and a fine linguist. The very first cases that we tried were those of the presidente and several other big men of Igbaras. Four years in Bilibid Prison at Manila was the least punishment given any one of them. Glenn performed A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 369 most valuable service in the execution of his duties as Department Judge Advocate. He unearthed the guilt of, and brought to just punishment through trial by military commission, a number of insurrecto officials, and some of them of high rank. The effect of this work, completed as it was by military com- missions, was to assist very materially in shortening the period of insurrection in Panay, and thus cause that rich island to be the first to be pacified. A young Filipino of Jaro was accused by the insurrectos of being an “ Americanisto ” (friend to the Americans), and they sent in a detail of men to punish him with death. As the young fellow was returning from riding his bicycle about 8 p.m. his muchacho (boy servant) opened the door and relieved him of the wheel. The muchacho deposited the wheel a few feet away, and returned quickly to the door, where he assisted two other men who were hacking away at the young Filipino with their bolos. The job was soon finished, the final blow appearing to have been given by his own muchacho. One of the assassins had formerly been the young man’s muchacho, and another was an employe in a Chinese store on the ground floor of the same building. A fourth man watched another door leading outside, and the fifth superintended the job, as leader. The man who watched the door was given only 20 years in Bilibid Prison, while the three active assassins and the leader were sentenced to be hanged. One of them escaped the gallows by previously dying of beriberi. Another case settled by our Commission was that of the murder of an American volunteer. That young soldier disappeared, and there being no evidence of foul play he was first carried on the rolls as being absent 370 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY without leave, and finally he was dropped as a deserter. For months his comrades believed that the poor fellow had deserted, and in all probability his family and friends at home had heard, and had believed the same story. Glenn discovered the facts, which afterwards were fully shown, in the trial before our military commis- sion, of all but one of the guilty parties, one after another. The American was promised a meeting with a native woman, a mile or so from town, he was per- suaded to bring along his rifle, and his belt full of cartridges, was made drunk and then was carried to the presidente, who was to give orders for disposition of him. The presidente directed the native sergeant of police and his two native policemen to take the soldier out and kill him. The drunken soldier under- stood nothing of the conversation, which was carried on in his presence and hearing, in the Visaya dialect. The party then proceeded out of town, the natives playfully tying the drunken American’s hands behind him, and then hacking and cutting him with their bolos, making at first only slight wounds and pre- tending to be in play. When they arrived at the spot where they wanted to leave, or bury the corpse, they opened the poor fellow’s abdomen, and hacked at his neck, killing our fellow countryman with many wounds. Having buried the corpse the assassins took the man’s rifle, belt and blanket, reported to a former presidente for orders, and in compliance with them they delivered to the insurrecto soldiers outside the rifle and belt, keeping the blanket. The native sergeant of police was never caught by us, but the two policemen, the presidente and the former presidente, were all four hung in that same A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 371 town by sentence of our military commission. The records were thus corrected regarding the supposed desertion of the American soldier. I hope the truth reached the friends and relatives of the poor fellow. Our commission tried a case of the burial alive of a native woman who had been accused by her insur- recto enemies of being an “Americanista” (friend to the Americans). Two peons, or “taos” dug the grave under the direction of an influential native, who stood by while the grave was being dug. The grave being completed, the woman got in it and laid herself down, and was covered up, all without a whimper from her. The man who superintended the grave digging was sentenced to death. We tried many other cases, about 35 in all, but there was one very interesting case which we were not able to bring to justice, because of failure to capture the guilty native while the insurrection was still going on. Thirteen natives who lived in Barotac had been working on the rough substitutes for barrack buildings in Dumangas, and on Saturday afternnoon they were returnng home with their week’s earnings, when they were halted by Colonel, afterwards Gen- eral Quentin Salas, and his men. After being robbed, the workmen were tied and tortured in various ways, some of them being maimed before receiving their real punishment, which was burial alive. One man was not buried quite deep enough, and I have read the translation of his story describing the incident. We looked hard for Quentin Salas. Burying alive was a method of killing which seemed to possess a peculiar fascination for the Filipino. Quite a number of cases occurred in other parts of the archipelago, showing how general was such fascination and practice. 372 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY In northern Panay two natives were resting after travelling in one of their row boats. One of them lay down in, or near the boat, and went to sleep. The other went ashore and moved about, and finally got restless and wanted to move on. After trying once or twice to wake up his comrade and get him to help get away from there, the man who had waked up first went down again to the boat, coolly killed the sleepy fellow, cooked and ate a part of his flesh. Another military commission settled that case, but I have read the translation of the cannibal’s confession. There were several rich English firms scattered about the islands, having branch houses in the prin- cipal towns, and agents in still smaller towns. There were two big banks, one or two steamship companies, and other business corporations. Those business firms were well acquainted with the Filipinos. Insurrecto money deposited with either of them could easily be collected in Hong Kong by insur- recto agents there, and in this manner was some money used for the support of the insurrection. But, even Glenn could not get positive proof, sufficient to bring the Englishmen to justice. About the middle of January, 1901, while on tem- porary duty at Ilo Ilo, I was sent to Dumangas, Panay, to take command of Goodier’s Battalion of the 38th Vols. and Guy V. Henry’s Battalion of the 26th, and do some field service with those troops, which were already at Dumangas. My special instructions were to make a thorough cleaning out of Dumangas and its immediate vicinity, two barrios especially. The two battalions named were camped in and around the patched-up building which had been the cause of the burying alive of the thirteen native workmen by A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 373 Quentin Salas. That was really the only hour.e left standing in that town of Dumangas, the place having been burned several months before by the insurrectos in order to oust a company of volunteers stationed there. They burned even the church, just as was done at Rosario, in Luzon, when it was rumored that the 38th Vols. were going to reoccupy the town. Capt. Glenn accompanied me to Dumangas, and remained overnight, long enough to get an idea as to what would be our plan of action, which was as follows: Goodier’s Battalion was to be divided daily into at least two parts, with careful instructions to thor- oughly scour a certain specified territory. Henry’s Battalion was to similarly treat the territory adjoin- ing that worked by Goodier’s people. The next day additional territory was to be assigned each battalion, but every day the sphere of operations was to include the ground passed over the day before, and that plan was to be continued day after day. In this manner the neighborhood was to be made unhealthy for insurrectos. We discovered and de- stroyed several places where Quentin Salas had, at different times, made his headquarters, or temporary resting place. One day we captured his “muchacho,” carrying a native basket full of his chief’s clothing. Throughout my stay at Dumangas I had with me, as guide, a mortal enemy of Quentin Salas, who had been his rival at Dumangas when both of them were officers in the insurrecto army. Julio Buenaflor was my guide’s name. His family had been the richest in Dumangas, and had owned thousands of acres of cultivated land, also of overflowed land which was full of edible fish. Buenaflor thirsted for the blood of his enemy, and he honestly and energetically tried to 374 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY take rne to where we could find Salas. I have no idea as to/ how close we got to Quentin, but I heard from Buenaflor months later that on one occasion his enemy lay in the mud and watched us pass within 7.0 yards of his hiding place. Now and then we would capture some fugitive native and compel him to accompany and guide us. Indeed, we had in this manner an additional guide all the time, for our friend Buenaflor did not profess to know all the country around Dumangas. Each day we would start on our hike several hours before daylight. I preferred to go with the company commanded by old David Allen, previously mentioned. I understood and highly appreciated that old soldier’s fine qualities, and I liked him, personally, very much. Also, I knew that Allen did not like to serve under Major Goodier. Allen had enlisted all the men of his own company, getting them from around his home in Indiana, and he knew and called each man by his first name, “Jim,” “Bill,” etc., and he seemed to know all about each man. Allen’s methods were not those of the regular Army, but, as long as they produced such fine results as I knew they did, I felt that there must be much good in them. Most likely it was merely his personal influence, his personality. Certainly some powerful influence was needed to cause that company to make for itself the best record in the regiment. I know of no better record made by any company in the islands. In the field Capt. Allen slept with a bearded sergeant whom he called “Joe.” In this connection I must say that I do not recommend for imitation the methods used by that fine old soldier. A system must be fol- lowed in any army, one that has been the result of much thought and experience, and one that can be A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 375 followed by all sorts of men. Such an exception as Capt. Allen could be imitated by very few men, after much observation of his methods and their results. If there is any place where “familiarity breeds con- tempt,” it surely is in the military service and all through it, and only the great strength of character possessed by the officer described could possibly have saved him from utter failure. In our hikes through the swamps and bogs of Dumangas there was no division of the command into the various parts: point, advance guard, flankers, etc., as required by our drill regulations. Most of the time there was not even a trail, and we could see only a very short distance in any direc- tion. Therefore, we marched in Indian file, or, as skirmishers moving by the flank, one behind the other, with convenient distance for walking. The guide walked in front, and I followed next to him, always ready to shoot on the shortest notice, and this I did on several occasions. On one occasion we were returning to our camp after a long day’s hike, and we were following the winding course of a small river, when we were aroused by about twenty shots, fired into us from our right flank. Instantly every man of us dropped to the ground as though dead, and then we squirmed around so as to face the enemy, who continued to fire a few shots, just enough to inform us as to his whereabouts. The Captain was at the rear of the company, so I did not wait for him to give any commands. I gave the order, “Fire a few shots, men, to make them nerv- ous. Range, 200 yards.” And very soon afterwards I continued, “Rise, now, so as to face them good.” I remembered my previous doubts as to the drill 376 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY of Allen’s company, and I thought to keep things steady by giving some homely instructions. I was badly mistaken. Allen’s men were better drilled than I had given them credit for, and even though they were volunteers they preferred being properly com- manded, and my command to “swing around to the left a little” was wretchedly executed. I saw my mis- take, but true to human nature, it made me angry at my men when the fault was all my own. So I yelled, “You want drill book commands, do you? All right, I’ll give them to you. Change direction to the half left, double time, March. Guide center.” Those men from Indiana were fine soldiers. Very properly they did want drill commands, and good ones, and they executed the drill commands beauti- fully, making it very difficult for me to keep up with them. That experience was a good lesson for me, and I resolved to always use in the future, especially in times of danger and excitement, the exact and correct language of the drill book in giving my commands. By reminding the men of the drill ground, and thus showing them the proper way to do it, it will tend to take away excitement and make thinking machines of the men, the finest sort of soldiers. On those daily hikes about Dumangas, more than during any other part of my service in the tropics, I enjoyed the cool and refreshing water from the nearly grown cocoanut. My men appeared to be as fond of it as I was, and they somehow knew how to provide a Filipino to run up the tree like a monkey and throw down all the fruit we wanted. The water from a freshly pulled cocoanut is always cool and refreshing, and I never knew it to harm any one. I had previously seen my horses and packmules A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 377 bog down in the mire, and need assistance, but during this week of work in the Dumangas swamps I saw, on at least one occasion, several of my men so bogged down in the mud as to require help. But it all passed off as fun. Some man who had already gotten across would hold out a long pole, or throw a piece of rope, and in this manner help the other men out, most of them laughing at the time. My instructions to Major Henry were very general, and they were executed with punctuality and preci- sion, and in the quietest manner imaginable. He would succeed in getting his men up, fed and out of camp, with the least possible noise, and with absolutely no confusion, all this in the darkness of 2 a.m. He was an excellent subordinate, and showed so much originality and confidence that I had no sort of doubt as to his ability to stand alone anywhere. I still regard him as an excellent officer. My services in cleaning up the vicinity of Dumangas met with my general’s warm approbation, to my great pleasure. General Hughes was not afraid of informing his subordinate that he was pleased with that officer’s work. This disposition on the part of the General made his officers work all the harder to please him. I was promoted Major of Infantry Feb. 2, 1901, assigned to the 16th Infantry, detailed Feb. 28th in the Adjutant -General’s Department, and ordered to the Department of the Visayas, exactly where I was then serving. I was therefore to continue with General Hughes, for which I was very glad. However, I con- tinued for several months with my military com- mission duties. In May, 1901, 1 began work as Adjutant General of the Department of the Visayas, and I accompanied 378 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY my chief in his field service, going with him first to Calbayog, Samar. We travelled on his official boat, the Churruca, one of the best of the small steamers, stopping en route at Tacloban, Leyte. Soon we went up to Leguan, on an island of the same name, on the north coast of Samar, and opposite the mouth of a small river. Major Fred. Smith, 1st Inf., commanded there, and with his little command had to keep a sharp lookout over an extended area of very bad country. In a little launch, drawing about six and a half feet of water, we went up the river about fifteen miles, and returned the same day, being fired at from the woods and swamps, both going and returning, but no one was hurt. We had an equally interesting visit to another company, on another river, not many miles away. Those troops were located close to the mouth of the river, but the breakers apparently completely barred entrance. We anchored about a mile and a half from the mouth of the river, and with our glasses we searched hard and for quite a while before discov- ering a narrow doorway through the breakers. In a good row boat, by carefully following the correct course, we passed in and out, on our visit to that company which was commanded by Capt. Campbell King, 1st Inf. Following his custom General Hughes asked quite a number of questions, showing good knowledge of conditions, and, having thus obtained at first hand a knowledge of all changes, he gave his instructions for future conduct of affairs. Then we returned to Leguan and then to Calbayog, where he established his field headquarters during his stay in the island of Samar. Very simple and unpretentious headquarters did he have. Himself, myself, and one clerk. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 379 One day, in that office, he tossed me a short report to read, smiling as he did so. Reading the report, which was from a lieutenant of the 1st Infantry now on the retired list, I saw two items like the following: “One day last week a small detachment of my com- pany was passing through the barrio — when the natives got after them, and my men had to run for their lives. Those people know that I have been there.” The other was : “Three days ago, with 25 men of my company, I was going from to , and when near bar- rio , in turning a sharp bend of the road we came suddenly upon four natives who were engaged in the pleasant occupation of preparing pitfalls for us. The fourth man escaped, badly wounded.” It was my duty to go with some newly arrived organizations to various places in Samar and Leyte. I went with the 11th Infantry, Col. Isaac DeRussy, to Tacloban, Leyte, and on another occasion I located and landed Lieut. Beacham and his company of the 1st Infantry on the northern coast of Samar. For this purpose we went up the west coast of Samar from Calbayog, and turned eastward around the north- west corner of the island, looking for a place to land at and establish a camp for the company. We finally discovered a large house not far from the shore, an- chored, manned the small boats and pulled for the land close to that house. We found that the big house was minus one side, not having been completed, but there was enough house completed to afford shelter for the company. 380 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY While the landing was being completed I took a small detachment and made a little hike of an hour or so, investigating the country in that vicinity. On returning to the site selected for camp I saw one of Beacham’s men, fresh from God’s Country, riding an immense carabao all about camp, enjoying it very much, himself, and affording much amusement for the others. I told the men to take a good look, for they would scarcely ever see that sight again, be- cause it was very dangerous for an American to go near a carabao, and much more dangerous for him to get on the animal’s back and try to ride it. The next time I saw Beacham seven years had passed, and he was a captain in my 9th Infantry, at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. One of my trips was for the purpose of visiting the mouth of Mao River, northwest coast of Samar, to learn conditions there. I found my classmate, Capt. R. D. Read, 10th Cavalry, there, with his troop. He had recently arrived from the United States, and was very new to the only kind of work which brought good results in dealing with the Filipinos. Like all the rest of us he learned and improved, from experience. His camp was on the Mao River, right at the mouth of it, and the location was very pretty for a camp. There was not a single wagon road leading out from Mao, only trails. Having no animals at the time. Read had to capture some ponies to be used for pack ani- mals, and for riding. Later on I learned that Read was scouting extensively about the country. He must have found some horses. Soon the 9th Infantry returned from China, and the regiment was scattered about in small garrisons. On the Churruca I took the Headquarters and three A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 381 companies, to drop at one-company stations. First we dropped Capt. Frank Schoeffel and his company at Tarranglan, a village on the narrow neck of an isthmus, thus cutting off a promontory a mile or two long. We arrived at night, and anchored more than a mile from shore, because of the shallow water there. We got out the small boats, filled them with men and then pulled all together for the shore and the small village at the narrow neck. The water got so shallow 7 that we had to get out and wade several hundred yards to the shore. We found the little town, and the narrow neck of land. I had Capt. Schoeffel collect that night every native man that we could find and thus insure having assistance in preparing his camp, telling him to take for quarters such houses as he needed. I then left him before midnight, went aboard my little steamer, and sailed south, passing by the small place in Samar, at the upper end of San Bernar- dino Straits where I had previously landed Capt. Lester Cornish and his troop of the 9th Cavalry. Going on through, we stopped and landed Head- quarters and Capt. Bookmiller’s company of the 9th Infantry at Basey, Samar. The regimental com- mander, Major Foote, was along. With Bookmiller and his company, using methods previously described, we quickly landed, collected a big working party, or detail of natives, passed through the town and scouted the immediate vicinity beyond, and then selected quarters for the troops. While w 7 e were scouting we came to a small river just outside of Basey, and there we looked carefully and thorough- ly for signs of insurrectos in arms. We soon saw a man coming down the stream in a small boat, and we 382 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY waited till he was almost opposite to us before we rose and levelled our rifles at him. The man dropped his paddle and looked at us, and then we quickly waved for him to pass on, when we turned away and returned to town. The poor boatman was, apparently, in the last stage of leprosy, which we could plainly see. It would have been an act of mercy to shoot him dead, and end his misery, but somehow no one likes to do that. We object to killing for such a purpose. Going on down to Guiuan we stopped and went in to see Lieut. Downs and his small garrison. While going in the small harbor we could plainly see the bottom in many places. We were moving over a large coral reef, apparently. The young post commander was making preparations for the hike which a few days later ended his life, he being stabbed to death while marching at the head of his company, through the high grass. A post in Leyte was named for him. At Borongan, on the east coast of Samar we found Capt. Getty and his company of the 1st Inf., and made him a short visit, after which we proceeded to Oras, at the northeast corner of Samar, and in the usual manner we there landed Capt. Mark Hersey and his company of the 9th Inf. We saw where some one had been living in a shack, but the only living thing that we found was a three-fourths starved dog. We saw nothing in the shape of furniture. The church floor was only earth, and it was cut up by pitfalls, and those dangerous mantraps were also scattered through- out the abandoned town, which the former inhabi- tants strangely left standing. A pitfall was prepared by digging out the earth for two or three feet, planting the bottom with sharp pointed pieces of bamboo, covering the hole with dirt and brush, and then kindly A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 383 waiting for the unwary American to stumble in, and sometimes he did it. After again visiting Leguan, on the north coast of Samar, I wanted to see how Beacham was getting on, so I had the Churruca move along close to the shore among some islands to the west of Leguan, all the time looking for signs of Beacham’s camp. Suddenly, on looking down into the water, I saw the bottom plainly all along. Immediately I had the ship back out of that place, and I gave up the idea of finding Beacham from that direction. There were other troops being landed in Samar about that time, among them being Capt. Charles Young and his troop of the 10th Cav., located up the Gandara River. While I was on duty at West Point in ’88- ’90, Young was in my cadet company, grad- uating in 1889, and when I met him somewhere in Samar he showed a feeling of great gratitude, thanking me very warmly for kindness shown him at the Academy. All I could remember was that I was very careful to give him fair and just treatment always, and during the summer of 1889, while he was awaiting re-examination, I assisted him to obtain a horse to ride daily as a health exercise. But, Capt. Young was really grateful for something. However, I was able and glad to do him a small kindness during the summer of 1901, there in Samar. One day in Calbayog I heard the young officer who was commissary officer there growling about Capt. Young’s request for subsistence stores without having sent any money for them. He was not going to honor the request. After some inquiry into the matter I obtained a list of the articles that Capt. Young wanted, paid for them, had them sent to him without delay, sent him 384 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the list and the price of the things sent, and I wrote him a short note informing him what I had done, adding that he could reimburse me at his leisure and convenience. I knew that the money could not be safer and I so informed the young commissary officer, telling him of my acquaintance w r ith Capt. Young at the Academy. Capt. Young was in the field then, and had no way to cash any paper, but somehow he returned me that money in a marvellously short time, with warmest thanks for my kindness. I have not seen him since, but I know from his record that he has continued to fill responsible positions. Whenever I think of the colored soldier I alw r ays remember Capt. Young and my man Beckam, of the 24th Infantry and 9th Immunes. Of course Capt. Young and Lieut. Beckam were rare exceptions, the woods not being full of such men, but they have shown w r hat can be done by the colored man, and there must be others like them. It was then late in June, and I was sent to Ilo Ilo to act in the General’s name at Department head- quarters, and relieve Major Robert Noble, so as to enable him to go and take my place in Samar with the General. For about three months I tried to carry out wffiat I believed the General would like to have done. Sometimes I had his instructions to guide me. For instance: he told me to allow no other officer of the 6th Infantry, or other regiment, to supersede Capt. C. G. Morton in his command and station in north Panay. This I was careful and pleased to do, for I shared the General’s good opinion of that officer, now a general. The war in the Philippines was officially declared to A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 385 be ended June 30, 1901, and, prior to that date many examining boards were convened to determine the fitness of volunteer and regular enlisted men for com- missions in the regular army. I was senior member of one of those boards, Glenn being middle member, and French and Griffith, in succession, serving as junior member. Out of about 80 men ordered to appear before our board ten or fifteen begged to be excused and did not appear, and others dropped out from one reason or another, till only about 45 complete sets of examination papers had to be made out. About thirteen passed satisfactory examinations in every- thing, and afterwards five or six more were given re-examinations in mathematics, and they, too, made good on the second test. At the first examination Marr O’Connor passed No. 1 and very soon he received a commission and remained at Ilo Ilo on temporary duty. Irving Hunsaker passed an excellent examination in every- thing except mathematics, and, with ordinary oppor- tunity for preparation, would undoubtedly have done well in that study also. His excellent record and well known high character as a soldier obtained for him the recommendation of the board that he be given a commission, regardless of his failure to get a passing mark in mathematics by a very small margin. After several attempts permission was finally ob- tained to give Hunsaker also a re-examination in mathematics. Marr O’Connor was recorder of the new board and he coached Hunsaker, through a suc- cessful examination. When the list showing relative rank was finally published, the name of Hunsaker appeared above that of O’Connor, and it stayed there. This, in spite of the fact that O’Connor was an officer 386 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY several months while the other man was still an enlisted man in the regulars, though an officer of the Philippines Scouts, and doing excellent service. Other similar cases exist, causing many heartburns. I saw the 38th Volunteers go home, carrying away much fine material for regular officers and enlisted men. A number did soon come back into the regular service, some as officers and some as enlisted men. But there were still others who should have made the effort to win commissions, and did not do so, for reasons of their own. I tried very hard to induce big Robert DeWare to try for a commission as soon as he arrived in God’s Country. That young soldier was a sergeant at Lipa when I went to Tayabas, and he was in charge of my small mounted detachment on that trip. As we travelled along I became aware, from occasional fragments of conversation that I caught, that DeWare and “the Colonel” were both Texans. Then I remembered hearing at Lipa that we had there a cousin of Senator C. A. Culberson, of Texas, as a sergeant in one of the companies there. I took a good look at my fellow statesman, the commander of my little escort, and I saw an unusually fine looking big, boyish looking young soldier, bold and confident. From that time I noticed the young fellow closely. He was exceedingly efficient during the entire trip to Tayabas and return. His pony gave out, a few miles from Lipa, and DeWare had to walk in, having given his saddle to some other man to carry, the pony having to be abandoned. DeW^are was taken sick soon after our return to Lipa, and he was sick for some time. When returned to duty, but too weak to do any hiking, or other field duty, I put him in charge of the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 387 policing of Lipa. I detailed him as provost sergeant, and his duty consisted in keeping clean the streets of Lipa in the immediate vicinity of our quarters and barracks, working native prisoners for this purpose, and it was a most important duty, though not an attractive one, and most men would not like it, or succeed in it. I remarked to my Adjutant, “This youngster comes from a very fine family in Texas. If he does well as provost sergeant it will show him to be a good one, for the duties of that office are not agreeable, but they are very important.” While Robert DeWare was provost sergeant at Lipa he made marked im- provement in everything that he touched. No matter how dirty the work he went right at it without protest, and neglected nothing. I was greatly surprised, and very much pleased, for the youngster was an unusually handsome and attractive six footer, and still growing. When he had been my provost sergeant two or three months my post sergeant major was needed elsewhere, and I had to look around for someone to take his place. I was glad to remember how well DeWare had been doing as provost sergeant, so I now gave the boy another test. I made him sergeant major. He surprised me more and more by his intelligent attention to his new duties, and by a real genius for system and method, as well as for general efficiency. When we left Lipa his company commander wanted him for first sergeant, and when the regiment sailed for home the young man was still first sergeant, and a very efficient one, besides having grown much in size and strength. When I tried to induce him to make an effort for 388 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY a commission in the regulars DeWare insisted that he was too ignorant, and could not pass the examina- tion. After returning to the United States he attended the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas, and became a noted football player there. In him the Army lost a fine officer. I had equally poor luck in my attempt to persuade Lieut. Thornton to join the regulars. He accepted the “bird in hand” job in the islands, and remained there under the civil govern- ment after the departure of the regiment. I hated also to part with my mounted orderly, Private Bladen, the very young soldier from South Carolina who took pity on my good black horse and fed him at Lipa, on our return from Batangas, in January, 1900. This young soldier was also a mere boy, and not very strong, physically, but he wanted to remain in the islands as a regular. Having noticed Bladen’s weak lungs I dissuaded him from staying any longer in the tropics, and told him that it would be much better for him to go back home and enjoy himself in South Carolina for a month or two, when, if still desirous of being a regular he could easily go and enlist in time for his service to count as continuous. The boy took my advice, and five years later he wrote to me from Atlanta, telling me how well he was doing. In the latter part of September, 1901, I left Ilo Ho on sick leave, to be spent in China and Japan, and I took the English steamer Kaifong, which stopped en route at Cebu where I found General Hughes busy at work trying to pacify the island of Cebu. The Kaifong had to remain about a week at Cebu for part of its cargo, and I was glad to go ashore, back to duty with my chief during our delay, and I grew to like him still more. Some Congressmen came there looking A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 389 for political campaign data, and they asked General Hughes some questions about the smoke then visible in various directions from the town. They were told that he (Hughes) assumed entire responsibility for every smoke in sight; that there were various locali- ties near by where insurrecto soldiers had been living, occupying those houses as their quarters, and that he had ordered all such buildings burnt, or otherwise destroyed. The Congressmen had nothing further to say on that subject. One United States Senator who accompanied those gentlemen to Cebu, did not call on the Commanding General at all, which was rather odd, considering the fact that the Senator had been a major in the Confederate army, and therefore knew something of military etiquette. While at Cebu I was witness to some important surrenders of local insurrectos, in which I represented my general. The natives at and around Cebu were of such an unfriendly disposition that I tried to induce my general to wait a while and whip them a little more before stopping to talk surrender with them. It would have produced better results for the future. About September 29th or 30th we received news of the massacre at Balangiga, Samar, of almost all of Company “C,” 9th Infantry, the information coming from Capt. E. V. Bookmiller, whom I had landed with his company at Basey some months before. When the few survivors of that affair reached Basey in their row boats, Capt. Bookmiller immediately, without waiting for orders from anyone, put the greater part of his company aboard a small steamer which hap- pened to be present, and hurried to Balangiga. Be- cause of my subsequent long connection with the 9th Infantry I will insert here a short account of the 390 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Balangiga massacre, taken from Capt. Fred. Brown’s Official History of the 9th Infantry, but not in his exact language, being very much abbreviated. Company “C” was landed at Balangiga on August 11, 1901, under the command of Captain T. W. Connell. He had with him 1st Lieut. E. A. Bumpus, 9th Inf. and Surgeon R. S. Griswold, Med. Dept. The officers were quartered in the convent, which was adjoining to, and connected with the church by a covered hallway. The river was immediately in rear of the church and convent. Fronting the church was the plaza, and on the opposite side of it was the row of buildings occupied as barracks, kitchen, etc. The men were quartered partly in the “tribunal” (city hall), and partly in two small buildings not far off. Two conical tents at one corner of the main barracks gave shelter for prisoners. The Captain was a Cath- olic, which accounts for a good deal. The church was connected with the convent. There were 64 native prisoners under guard, and 20 more reported for early work. Such conditions existed September 28th, and the previous night Lieut. Bumpus had returned from Basey with mail, etc. The men ate breakfast mostly under the main barracks, but some few ate in the two separate shacks. Sergeant Betron lived in one separate house, and Sergeant Markley lived in the other. Shortly after reveille, when the men had almost finished breakfast, and all the native workers were present, ready for work, the native chief of police gave the signal, which was repeated from the church by ringing the bell. The natives jumped for their piles of working bolos, and, assisted by many other natives who suddenly appeared, they rushed the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 391 various buildings used as barracks to get possession of the men’s rifles. Most of the men were still at the table, but, by good running and hitting, some soldiers reached each building, fought their way to their rifles, and, finally they drove the natives out of town and across the river. They looked for their officers, and found all three dead, Capt. Connell being the only one of them who got out of the convent, and he was killed a few feet away from the building. Including the three officers and one hospital corps man there were 74 American soldiers in Balangiga that morning. Only four escaped without a scratch, and only fifteen survived their wounds. Sergeants Betron and Markley put the survivors in small row boats and went to Basey, each boat for itself. It is believed that a great many natives were killed. The grave containing their dead was never opened for examination and count, so that the exact number is not known. Natives gave their dead as one hundred, but I think that number too great. Captain Connell’s being a Catholic undoubtedly caused him to trust the native priest and others more than he should have done. Communication between church and convent was too easy, and I believe that the guard stationed there was not strict enough, by any manner of means. Precaution against surprise was evidently not very good, too much confidence being placed in the priest. The men fought w r ell, considering their handicap. General Hughes was greatly worried over the Bal- angiga massacre, and saw to it that every effort possible was made to remedy matters. Col. Isaac DeRussy, who was at Tacloban, with part of the 11th Infantry, proceeded promptly to the scene of 392 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY trouble, but Bookmiller had gotten there first and had left for Basey. Afterwards, in his capacity as depart- ment judge advocate, Capt. Glenn collected docu- mentary evidence that the attack on Balangiga had been in preparation for weeks, perhaps for months. The priest was not at Balangiga on September 28 th. Believing that my services were not indispensable I proceeded on my sick leave, gaining length of leave by having been on duty at Cebu, for General Hughes made my leave begin with my departure from that place, instead of Ilo Ilo. From Cebu the Kaifong went straight to Hong Kong, where I had to remain about eight days, and I found the weather very hot there in October. Hong Kong is on a narrow and very mountainous island, so curving as to make, in connection with the curve of the main land, a fine harbor. The long streets of the place are parallel to the water, and are very few in number. The short streets are many, and they climb the mountain to the top in some places, there being an electric railway to the top at the point where there are several fine hotels. I found the service at the Connaught House very satisfactory. While in Hong Kong I bought for Col. Turrill, Medical Department, and shipped back to him at Ilo Ilo, a fine and complete set of Canton china. I wish I had one just like it. From Hong Kong I sailed for Nagasaki, Japan, via Shanghai, China, on one of the big Empress Line steamships, and I had for companions some of the delegation of political campaign data seekers whom I had met in Cebu not long before. In buying my ticket I obtained a discount of fifteen per cent, be- cause of the ship’s regulation allowing such considera- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 393 tion to members of the ministry of the gospel, diplo- matic corps, army, navy and marines, of all countries. I have never heard of such being done in the United States. As the ship passed along the channel, in leaving Hong Kong, I stood on the deck, looking hard at the island, trying to locate all manner of military works for the defence of the city and island, and I gradually drifted as far back as I could get, till finally I stood against the railing aft, gazing at the end of the island, around which I could plainly see. I felt disappointed with the result, and could not restrain myself, so I broke loose with, “Just as I thoughl. There is nothing there to protect the island against infantry,” and I looked around to see who had heard me. A few feet from me sat a gentleman who resembled in appearance one of the Congressmen, I had seen at Cebu, and to him I then spoke, “I beg your pardon, but, didn’t I see you at Cebu about two weeks ago?” When he answered in the negative I introduced myself, “I am Major Crane, of Uncle Sam’s regular infantry. I am convalescing in China and Japan for a month or two.” The stranger told me that he was Major Locke, of her Majesty’s Indian Infantry. I now continued, “I’ll repeat to you what I said a moment ago. I am an infantryman, and I have been looking with all my eyes to see what the British have on that island to prevent infantry from gaining the mountain ridge, which I have noticed to be con- tinuous from end to end of the island, commanding the water on all sides. I have seen several batteries for use against ships and they might possibly be need- ed, but around this end of the island small boats 394 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY from ships safe from those batteries could quickly land infantrymen, who could from that ridge capture every battery on this island.” British officers are not so outspoken as we are. Major Locke made no reply to my speech, but I believe that he wrote a letter to his superiors, telling them of the American infantryman’s friendly criticism of Hong Kong’s defenses. I saw a great deal of Major Locke during the next few days, and I grew to like him very much. He was a fine fellow, being very modest and intelligent. At the stop, off the mouth of the big river at Shanghai, we went to the city together on the short railroad, and from the car windows we saw carabaos working, and cotton growing. The cotton had been sown broadcast, like millet, and consequently the plant was not sus- ceptible of receiving the great additional labor and care which is given it in our South. Major Locke and I went to the Hotel Astor in Shanghai, took adjoining rooms on the ground floor, each with a bathroom, and, after getting something to eat we went out and got two “rickshas” and saw the town. It was my first ride in a man-pulled wagon, and at first I felt ill at ease having a man hauling me about in a two wheel vehicle, called, jinrickisha, or ’ricksha. The Chinaman horse seemed, however, to have very little trouble in pulling me along at a trot. Shanghai is built on a big river, and the parts that we saw looked very much like a modern city, and very much up-to-date, fully as much as Hong Kong. Various nationalities had their own special localities, or “concessions,” where only they were permitted to build. At night we visited the armory of a British volunteer company, or battalion and there we heard A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 395 some fine music. On leaving the building I lingered in the hall, looking at the rifles, etc., used by the British volunteers of Shanghai, and while so engaged I saw on the wall two centipedes, which I promptly killed. So, the centipede lives in Asia, too, and looks just as venemous as in the United States. In the Hotel Astor the Japanese inhabitants of Shanghai were giving a banquet to their general who had commanded the Japanese contingent on the march to Pekin during the Boxer uprising a few months previous. I saw the noted guest of that occasion, but did not meet him. At Nagasaki I left the ship and went to a hotel. The steamer was booked to sail late that afternoon, and two or three hours before the hour set for depart- ure Major Locke appeared at my hotel and proposed a walk about the town. I was glad to walk with him. He was going on a six months’ leave, and expected to spend most of the time in the “states,” and did not expect to visit Great Britain at all, which seemed rather strange to me. At that time British feeling against Russia was very strong, and my English major plainly showed his displeasure at seeing any foreign warships in the harbor of Nagasaki, not classing as foreign our American ships. In parting we both expressed our hopes of serving together on the same side some day. I have not seen, or heard of him since that day, although I have looked hard for his name in the war news from the Great War in Europe. The famous British general Sir Henry Rawlinson was, I am sure, the colonel of the British regiment which was brigaded with the 9th Infantry during the Boxer trouble in China. For years he used to send the colonel of the 9th Infantry 396 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY some kind greeting, no matter where we were serving at the time. Rawlinson made a great name for him- self in France. At Nagasaki I found my classmate John Baxter on duty as captain and quartermaster, and for several days we renewed old friendship with much pleasure. Then I went to Takeo, on the same island, and not far from Moji, opposite Shimonoseki on the main island of Japan. This Moji must not be confused with Mogi, ten miles from Nagasaki and on the opposite side of the mountain from that city. Takeo was a very attractive resort because of fine springs of hot water, and arrangements for bathing very convenient to the hotels there. I found at my little hotel two British naval officers from Wei-Hei- Wei, China, and they proved to be very agreeable gentlemen. One day, the three of us, guided by our landlord, walked five or six miles to see the making of big vases. Vases from two to three feet high were being made by a single workman, who used the simplest sort of machinery, and seemed to do it mostly by quick move- ment of hands and feet. Our entire walk was about eleven miles, and we watched carefully to note how our Japanese guide would stand it, for he wore wooden shoes, with a strap on top separating the big toe from the others. Japanese stockings are also made with the same intention. Our guide was much fresher at the end of the walk than either of us, and we wondered how he did it. From Takeo I went one day to see some celebrated factories of Japanese china at Arita, about 30 miles distant by rail. I saw plates, cups, saucers, etc., pass through every stage, from cubical blocks of dry clay A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 397 to being hand painted. The painting was being done by a row or line of Japanese of mixed sexes and ages, kneeling and sitting side by side, facing the windows which were only several feet away and very numerous. That work looked to be death on the eyes. After seven or eight days at Takeo I went to Kobe- Hiogo by rail, and I enjoyed greatly the beautiful scenery, as seen from the car windows. The farm land seemed to be a system of terraces, there being some- times several hundred different levels on the same mountain side. We travelled close to the Inland Sea, and could enjoy the panorama presented by that wonderful network of small islands. Japanese railroad officials and employees knew enough of English to enable me to get along without difficulty. I found Kobe to be a fine city like Shanghai, with foreign “concessions.” Our Country, however, has no concessions in China, or in Japan; at least I got that impression. I saw none, and I heard of none. There were several big hotels in Kobe, run in Ameri- can, or in European style, being very comfortable, and reasonable as to cost. It is the seaport for Osaka, the greatest manufacturing city in Japan, also for Kyoto the old capital of Japan, and competing with Yokohama for first place as the big seaport. From Kobe I visited Osaka, Kyoto and some beautiful hot springs at Arima. There were Japanese pheasants in the hills around Arima, and I got my landlord to go hunting one day, but we found nothing. At Osaka I went to see the famous old fort, which has been taken, destroyed and rebuilt several times during Japanese civil wars, and it still continues to be garrisoned. I had omitted to provide myself with the necessary papers, and therefore I could not enter the 398 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY sallyport, but I saw enough to repay me for the ’ricksha ride. In and around old Kyoto are many very interesting points, palaces, temples, etc., and that city, as well as Kobe, is specially noted for the production of work in cloisonne, damascene, etc. I brought away a num- ber of cutting weapons of various sizes and shapes, also a small selection of the beautiful work done by those people. The shops where such articles were dis- played, I found to be very attractive. Many of the battles fought during the old time civil wars of Japan, took place around Kyoto, and between that city and Osaka. Until the ’60’s of the last century Kyoto was the capitol of the Mikados, but for about 650 years prior to that date the real power had been wielded by the Shoguns, Generals in Chief of Japan, and those despots lived in some other city, Kamakura, and afterwards in Tokyo. The Shogun always ruled in the name of a Mikado during that long period, and kept the Mikado practically a prisoner in his own palace at Kyoto, allowing him no real power whatever, but never hurting him. In those civil wars, of which the Japanese had their full share, rival Shoguns fought each other in the names of their puppet Mikados. The History of Japan, written by Murdock, assisted by a learned Japanese scholar, is one of the most interesting and instructive books that I ever read, and the description of the “100 Years War of the Chrysanthemum” is the part specially entertaining. The Minamoto family and their descendants, the Ashikaga and Tokugawa families, furnished all the usurping rulers of Japan who dared to call themselves “Shoguns.” Those three families and the family of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 399 the Tis'ra were all descended from some Mikado of old times, different Mikados. Even Hideyoshi was not so bold as to call himself “Shogun,” but he and several others ruled Japan, each in the name of a puppet Mikado, perhaps an infant. Hideyoshi was the ruler of Japan that tried to subjugate Korea, and failed only because his navy was beaten by a Korean admiral, Yi Sun-Sin who used something like the old-time Greek fire in his successful efforts against the Japanese ships. Hideyoshi’s son was ousted by the founder of the Tokugawa dynasty of Shoguns, old Iyeyasu, and this dynasty was ousted in the ’60’s of the last century, when the Mikado came into his own. When I was ready to start back to my station in the Philippines I went to the office of the Empress Line of steamships in Yokohama, and told them that I would like to avail myself of the fifteen per cent dis- count allowed army officers. It was granted me, just as before, without any apparent effort to verify my statements. In the big English banks I noticed the same apparent lack of caution. Before leaving Ilo Ilo I had obtained a draft from the local Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China, but with no agreement as to what particular places I was limited to, and this I found to be very convenient. At Hong Kong, Nagasaki, Kobe, Yoko- hama, Hong Kong and Manila I used the draft given me by the bank last visited, the credit growing steadily less. A Chinaman always handed me my new draft, and some cash for current expenses, this even in Japan. In leaving Japan I took steamer at Yokohama, having from that place made a short visit to Tokyo, where I noted that the fine buildings were all of pure 400 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY modern design, European, or American. At no place did I have anyone identify me, or vouch for me in any way, and finally at Yokohama, when I was get- ting my draft for use at Hong Kong, I inquired if I should bring someone to identify me as the person described in the draft, the bank teller smiled and asked, “No, but, how are they getting on down at Manila now?” He was an American who had served in the Volunteers in the islands. From Kobe, where we merely touched, to Hong Kong I enjoyed very much the companionship of an Australian family, consisting of the father, a judge of the Supreme Court at Sydney, the mother, the son fresh from Eton and the daughter just graduated from some select girls’ school. The Judge and his wife had both been born in England, but had been taken to Australia in very early childhood, and until that trip they had never been back to the old country. They had gone on to get their son and daughter and bring them home, taking the opportunity to see once more their own native land, and to incidentally zigzag across the United States and Canada en route home. Tall, awkward in their movements, English in their features, simple, honest and true, they were fine specimens, of which any country might well be proud. The father had very little to say about being a supreme court judge, but the mother could not refrain from frequently mentioning her brother “Sir John.” When I landed at Manila I learned that I was assigned to the Department of South Philippines, with headquarters at Cebu, Brigadier General Wade com- manding. So, to Cebu I went, to enter upon my new duties, regretting very much the recent departure of General Hughes for the United States. CHAPTER XVI At Cebu I was again Adjutant General, this time under a new chief. The insurrection was officially at an end, and the machinery of civil rule was, locally, again in the hands of the natives, and they were using it to get even with the Army, and therefore trouble was made for many officers because of what had happened during military operations months be- fore, advantage being taken of the opportunity by the only half whipped native population of the island of Cebu and by needy American lawyers who now ap- peared on the scene to assist in making trouble for the Army. Even though the war had been officially declared I at an end, the insurrection in Samar was still alive, and Malvar was still hidden in Batangas Province. But the Samar leader, Lucban, was finally captured by a detachment of Philippine Scouts under Lieut. Adolf Strebler, who had been sent out from Leguan by the commanding officer there, Capt. Geo. Bell, 1st Infantry. Strebler had been sent out from the post and island of Leguan with the special duty of hunting down General Lucban, and, after surmounting great diffi- culties in locating Lucban, had surmounted a great many more in reaching his hiding place, and in taking Lucban alive on the high mountains in the vicinity of Matuguinao. Strebler had with him a native ser- geant of Scouts named Patajo, who was given by him 401 402 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY great credit for shrewdness and loyalty in the report submitted by him (Strebler) on his return to Leguan. I read that report with much interest. It was one of the finest that I ever saw, and it was distinguished by the plain, truthful, modest description of a most difficult and hazardous undertaking, and for its claiming nothing for the writer, wherein it differed from some other reports that I had read while a staff officer. Indeed, to fully understand and appreciate what had been endured and accomplished by Strebler and his men, the reader needed a previous eyesight acquaintance with northern Samar and its people. Very promptly General Wade was ordered to con- vene a Board of Officers to examine Lieut. Strebler for a commission in the regulars. This Board was convened at Leguan, and was com- posed of officers stationed there. The War Depart- ment seemed impatient to reward the man who had captured Lucban, and General Wade was asked by cable from Manila the result of the examination. We passed the question on to the Commanding Officer at Leguan, who replied that it had been satisfactory, and that information was sent back to Manila. The result was, in a very few days, Adolf Strebler was commissioned as second lieutenant in the coast artillery'. Just as had happened in some other instances, where a young officer had performed valuable services in the field, so it now happened with Strebler. He was not able to withstand peace conditions, and died a civilian a few years later, on the Rio Grande. The work of pacifying the islands had proceeded so fast that finally the pendulum seemed to turn back and look for scapegoats, and, apparently found them A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 403 in several very efficient and capable officers who had performed most valuable services, one of them having done more than any other man to pacify the island of Panay, excepting General Hughes himself. I believed that then, and I have not changed my opinion of that matter since then. During the summer of 1902 the cholera spread over the islands, and Cebu was one of the towns hardest hit, in spite of efforts to prevent, and to cure. Our daily reports at Department Headquarters kept us informed as to progress of the disease, and for the month of August the number of deaths was at least 30 a day for the city of Cebu, and undoubtedly a number of cases were never reported. Several weeks were needed for the disease mortality to reach that height, for several weeks it stayed there, and for many more the cholera gradually lessened, and finally disappeared. In going to and from my office daily I frequently saw the sick being carried to where they could be treated. They were carried on the shoulders of two men, enclosed in a long basket or box, which did not entirely hide the struggles and agony of the stricken man, or woman. Several soldiers died, but no China- man was sick at Cebu. This was due to the fact that the greatest of care could not prevent some of our men from eating and drinking unwisely, and China- men eat and drink nothing that they themselves have not cooked. They drank nothing but tea, and they made their own tea. They ate no uncooked fruit, or vegetables. From my quarters in barrio San Nicolas I saw every night at 9 o’clock, for weeks and weeks, a procession of young girls and boys, headed by a native priest, 404 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY maybe two, all lighted by many candles. The girls were all in one group, and the boys in another, and separately the two groups took up and sang the saddest and wildest and weirdest songs that I ever listened to. I learned to whistle one of the airs, but I could not remember the other. Of course the Church was driving away the cholera, and whether or not the people continued to die, the Church was sure to be right. “Well done, good and faithful servants” for the living, and “Oh, ye of little faith,” to the drinkers of bad water who knew no better, and in all proba- bility the natives of Cebu have no doubt that the Church saved the truly devout from that visitation of cholera. According to my recollection about half of the natives sick with that disease did not recover. Of American sick of the cholera about one-third died, and no Chinaman had the cholera. For several months the eating of uncooked fruits and vegetables was for- bidden, thus depriving us of the delicious tropical fruits which are so abundant at Cebu. The Cebu mango is said to be the finest in the world, at least I know no better, and the papaya of that island has no superior, and there is no other fruit that equals the papaya for health giving. A banana-looking stalk, leaf, and sometimes its dwarfed fruit resemble very much those features of the plant which furnishes such delicious fruit. I am speak- ing of the banana’s cousin whose fruit is worthless, but whose fibre from the stalk furnishes the valuable and useful thread used in the manufacture of the most abundant native cloth, “abaca.” In all my experience in the island I was not able to distinguish the “abaca” banana from the kind which gives the good fruit if A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 405 I could not see the cluster of bananas. However, I believe that the stalk of the best fruit bearing banana would, if treated properly, furnish equally good fibre for the same purpose. After the stalk gets old enough to give the fruit it very soon rots, and it is doubtful if its fibre would, after yielding fruit, be good for anything but rope making. The coarse and old “abaca” stalk furnishes the fibre used in the manufacture of Manila hemp rope, and younger stalks give the more delicate fibre which is used in the making of the cloth, “abaca.” “Jusi” cloth is made in the Philippines, the best variety coming from the island of Panay, and espe- cially the towns of Molo, and Jaro, from a silk thread brought from China. “Pina” is made in the islands from the fibre of the pineapple plant. Both of those cloths are very durable, and jusi makes a beautiful dress for special occasions, being for that reason very popular with our American ladies. Pina is more rare, and is not manufactured in as pretty colors as is jusi, but it is a more durable cloth. Abaca corre- sponds to our calico as regards abundance and price, but it is not so pretty, nor so cheap, therefore a great deal of our calico is worn by the native Filipino women. I had no opportunity to hunt during my first tour of duty in the Philippines, but I saw several fine specimens of game. I saw three kinds of quail, differ- ing greatly in size, and somewhat in coloring. The smallest was hardly larger than a sparrow, the next in size about as big as the small Mexican dove which is abundant in southwest Texas, also in Cuba. The largest variety was fully as large as any of the several varieties of quail seen in the United States. The heads and bills of the Filipino quail bend over more than 406 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ours do, and the birds lacked that proud and upright bearing that is so distinctive of the American quail. The meat of the Filipino quail is as white and good to eat as could be wished. I saw also several different kinds of doves, or pigeons, differing in color and size, and affording excellent meat for the table. I did not serve in any big snake section of the is- lands, at least I saw and heard of none where I served, but the islands have some very large snakes. I saw monkeys on two occasions, and a few white parrots. Once or twice I saw ducks and plover. Poisonous and creeping things, like scorpions and centipedes, were not as abundant as I expected. Lizards were numerous, and of different sizes and varieties, some living in our quarters, and others of great size living in and near large creeks and rivers. One night at Cebu I counted by lamp light, on the walls and ceiling, at the same instant, nine harmless lizards who seemed to move only when an unwary fly came too near, and then the lizard would catch his game almost every time. I found the Chinaman to be the one man indis- pensable, because of his industry, honesty and intelli- gence. In my opinion he is the best and most honest man in the Orient. When I entered the great banks and big steamship houses I noticed that almost invari- ably a Chinaman counted out the money. A China- man tailor would make a suit of clothes in 24 hours, and, in fact, he does not draw the proper distinction between night and day, when it is a question of work. If he cannot or will not accept the offer as first made him, he bluntly tells you so, “No can do, maybeso — ,” and then he will most likely suggest his own terms. The following incident is given as an illustration: A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 407 In January, 1902, I drove up to the biggest res- taurant kept by Chinamen in Cebu. I wanted to hire a Chinese cook, being about to move into my quarters in Barrio San Nicolas. My army spring wagon having stopped in front of the restaurant two Chinamen came out to me, and the senior in rank promptly but not rudely asked, “What you want?” “A Chinaman cook,” I replied. “How much you give?” he asked. “How much do you want?” again I replied. “Thirty dollars gold one month,” the Chinaman said. “No,” I told him, “a thirty dollar Chinaman is too good a cook for me. I don’t want one who can cook that well. A twenty dollar cook is good enough for me. I’ll give twenty dollars per month.” Then, for the first time, Chinaman No. 2 spoke up. He said, “I go.” I told him to get in the wagon, and off we went, and that Chinaman was my faithful follower, cook, servant, for the rest of my stay in Cebu, and from other experiences with that people I believe that in- stance almost a typical one. On my cook’s recommendation I gave him authority to get me a Chinaman house boy, instead of a Filipino, believing that a ten dollar Chinese boy would be a better investment than a three dollar Filipino, at the end of the week. I also changed house boy on the recommendation of the cook. I gave him lots of liberty, also clear cut instructions as to what I really required of him, and I never had occasion to correct him in any way. Of course my house was not then kept in the tip top shape to please a good housekeeper, but it didn’t have to be. However, I believe my man Lao would have been equal to any occasion. 408 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY While on duty at General Wade’s headquarters I got to thinking of the various instances where our men had been suddenly assaulted by bolomen, and badly cut up before our slow moving Americans could get their wits and rifles working fast enough. I became convinced that a shorter, lighter rifle would better answer the purpose, also a bayonet which at the same time could be used as a cutting weapon good enough to match the native’s bolo, and the result of all my thinking was that I forwarded, through military channels, to the Adjutant General of the Army, a letter in which I recommended that the short cavalry carbine be issued to all our troops serving in the Philippines, also a bolo bayonet. My reasons were that our men were then weak from former sickness, and were naturally slow as compared with the Fili- pino, and the rifle was too heavy for quick handling, also too long. I further recommended that the bolo bayonet have a blade 18 or 20 inches long, and shaped like the Japanese blade. Before forwarding my letter General Wade referred it, or copies of it, for remark, to all his brigade, regimental and battalion commanders, and all, except one brigade and one regimental commander, backed up my recommendations. It would have been far better and more appropriate to have obtained ex- pressions of opinion on such subjects from company and small detachment commanders, officers who had been brought face to face with the naked bolo now and then, and therefore were better equipped to pass on the question raised in my letter. I had hardly moved into my rented quarters in Cebu when I found that I would not have to live alone. Capt. J. F. Madden, Adjutant 29th Infantry, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 409 requested me to take him in with me, and I was glad to do so. The Quartermaster paid my commutation of quarters, $48 per month, and Capt. Madden gave the remaining $2. I did not want any equal partner, and that is why Madden did not pay more of the rent. We got along very smoothly together. Our Chinaman cook, Lao, gave perfect satisfaction. He used to hunt up good things to cook for us. Among the dishes he prepared for us was one of rice birds on toast. The rice birds were canned, and already cooked, and only needed warming over again and preparing with toasted bread. The little birds were so small, and were prepared in such manner, that we could disregard bones when eating. It was a fine dish, and the next time I visited Cebu I did not forget the rice birds. One day, about 10.30 a.m. Lao appeared at my office, greatly excited. He told me that our house boy, another Chinaman, was dead, having been shot while in my room. We hurried to my quarters, and to my room, where we found the Chinaman lying on the floor, dead, with a bullet hole showing entrance in the abdomen and evidently ranging upward. My cal. 38 Browning-Colt automatic pistol was on the floor close to him, and the sheets of my bed were also on the floor with the pillow. Because of the ease with which any one could enter my house, and because of where I was I kept my pistol under my pillow at night all the time, and the Chinaman had been making up that bed, and he knew perfectly well that the pistol was there, because of having seen it there many a time. I remembered my being pulled out of bed that morning in January, 1878, at Fort Clark, Texas, and being shot by my own pistol, and that made me exam- 410 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ine well the floor of my bedroom for indentations, such as might have been made by the pistol’s hammer. I did not have to look long to find one which had evidently been caused by the hammer when the pistol struck the floor. One cartridge shell was empty. Evidently the Chinaman was in a hurry, or from some other cause was not careful in handling the bedding, and thoughtlessly jerked with much force, the sheets, and the pillow with pistol under it, out onto the floor without separating them. I was very sorry, and I gave Lao $30 to be used in burying the dead man. I believe that the remains were sent back to China. About the middle of August I was ordered back to God’s Country, and, fortunately, I was offered a trip to Manila by the Division Commander General Adna R. Chaffee, who had stopped at Cebu and was going to leave in two or three hours. I needed no longer than that for preparation to return to the United States. The trip to Manila on Gen. Chaffee’s boat was very pleasant. We stopped over a few hours at Batangas to see Gen. J. Franklin Bell who set before us some real frosted mint julip. I stopped in Manila several days, being the guest of my classmate Glenn, who had been with me at Ilo Ho under General Hughes. One of Glenn’s first remarks was to propose to me to go and see the sample bolo bayonet which our Ordnance Officer there had prepared. We went and I promptly gave my opinion that the sample shown me was impossible, for the purpose intended, being too thick, too heavy, too unwieldy, too much like a cleaver. I had a sword cane which I had brought from Japan, and I gave it to Glenn and requested him to A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 411 let the cane blade be at the service of the Ordnance Department whenever desired by them. Within a year it was reported in the papers that the Ordnance Department were experimenting with a shorter and lighter rifle, and in another year or so our present short rifle, also our knife bayonet, were issued to the Army. I have no doubt whatever that my letter had something to do with that change. After a few days in Manila my ship, the U. S. Transport Sherman, took aboard passengers and then went down to Mariveles to be fumigated, because of cholera which still lingered in nearly all the islands. We were to remain at Mariveles five days in quaran- tine for fumigation, but on the third or fourth day a case of cholera broke out, with fatal results, so that we stayed on five days from that death, and received another fumigation. On the way to Nagasaki several others died from cholera, and on arrival there we unloaded on the Japanese a number of sick and suspected cases. We did not enter the beautiful harbor, but we anchored outside the narrow neck, and there we were quaran- tined by the Japanese for five days and at the end of that time our own ship’s officers kept the Sherman in quarantine another five days, with the hope that on arrival at San Francisco no more quarantine would be given us. We sailed eastward along parallel 42, and finally entered the Golden Gate and we learned that we must go to Angel Island and remain there five days in quarantine and once more be fumigated. We landed October 14, 1902, at San Francisco, and all our quar- antining had made us feel that our own people did not wish to see us after our long service in the far 412 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY eastern tropics. Between Nagasaki and San Francisco Major C. H. Bonesteel had died, and soon after our arrival Lieut. Col. Morrison, J. A. Dept., died, but cholera had nothing to do with either case. While at the quarantine station on Angel Island I learned that I had been assigned to duty with General Hughes, at San Francisco, which satisfied me perfectly, only I wanted to see my two boys again, after my three years’ absence, and I therefore requested two months’ leave of absence very soon after landing. Meanwhile I performed the duties of Department Adjutant General for General Hughes, and for several weeks I lived in his house on Black Point with him. He treated me like a dearly loved son without drop- ping entirely the necessary restraints which are im- posed by military etiquette and discipline. After an early breakfast we walked together to the old Phelan Building, about two and a half miles. I took my lunch at the old Bohemian Club, and I don’t know where the General got his. He was so abstemious in his habits that I doubt if he ate any- thing at mid-day. About 5 p.m. we started back to Black Point, walking as before, and in this manner getting some much needed exercise. General Hughes was an excellent walker, although not at all athletic. His frame was very small, and straight and slender, and he frequently caressed one hip with his hand. This hip he hurt in Samar after I left him there, while he was coming down the mountains from a visit to Mount Matuguinao. He said that it served him right for trying to imitate a wild goat in jumping from crag to crag at his time of life. While I was perfectly satisfied with my duty at San Francisco, and especially because of my chief, on A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 413 two occasions the General’s Aide, Capt. Ralph Van Deman, remarked to me, “Now, you mustn’t get some other job while you are in the East. We want you back here.” To this my reply was, “Don’t be afraid. I am satisfied with my present duties.” Before starting on leave I wrote letters to my mother, all my brothers, and to my sister, telling them all that I would be with my mother on a certain date, and I was rewarded by finding them all there, at Eufaula, Oklahoma, where my mother was living with my brother Tom and his family. This was the last time that my good mother had all her surviving children with her at the same time. I had with me enough souvenirs of my service in the Philippines to give each of them something. Chiefly, I enjoyed seeing my mother again. After several days with my mother I went on, and stopped a day or two in New Orleans, where I saw once more John C. Febiger, also my cousins Kate and Grace Shepherd. Mr. Febiger showed me the last copy of the Army and Navy Journal, which contained a copy of the order changing my station to Governor’s Island, New York Harbor, Headquarters, Department of the East. I was to be assistant to the Adjutant General of the Department. Then I could not help remembering Capt. Van Deman’s remark, and I promptly wrote to him dis- claiming all connection with the order. On arrival at Governor’s Island I learned from my classmate Tom Barry, then Adjutant General of the Department, that he had asked for me as his assistant. My former captain, Henry C. Corbin, at that time Adjutant General of the Army, wrote and told me that he had remembered that my boys were in 414 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Lancaster, Pa., and that he wanted me to have the opportunity of being near them. I was very grateful to both my friends, and glad too, that they had the power to help me. Even then, the winter of 1902-3, the most important army post and most important headquarters outside of Washington had no electric lights in officers’ quar- ters. They said that even General Hancock had not been able to get them. General Chaffee soon obtained them. I started Barry after them by remarking about the queerness of their absence, and I have no doubt that he got his chief interested. General Chaffee was Department Commander, and I found my duties as Barry’s assistant very pleasant and instructive. Barry was the best “paper man” that I ever worked with, equal to every occasion. During the winter of 1902-3 Congress passed the Act authorizing the formation of the General Staff of the Army, a very great advance in progress. Nat- urally every ambitious officer desired a detail in the General Staff, and I applied for it through military channels, forwarding with my application a copy of a letter from General Hughes recommending me for the position. The entire letter is entered here because I am prouder of it than of any other recommendation that I ever received. “Headquarters Department of California, Office of the Commanding General, San Francisco, Cal., March 30, 1903. The Adjutant General of the Army, Washington, D. C. Sir: I desire to invite your special attention to the fitness of Major C. J. Crane, U. S. Infantry, for the duties A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 415 it is thought will fall to the members of the General Staff. In this case I speak from actual experience. As Lieutenant Colonel, with an independent command in the field, Major Crane established an enviable reputation. He was afterwards assigned as Adjutant General of the Department of the Visayas, and he proved himself quite efficient in that position, and was in charge of the main office while the Depart- ment Commander was absent in the field for six months. This was a good test of his preparedness to assume responsibilities that would have caused hesitation in a large majority of men. Very Respectfully, (Signed) R. P. Hughes, U. S. A. Other officers must have had more powerful recom- mendations than mine, for mine, of which I have always been so proud, produced no visible results. I continued to be Barry’s assistant. I had a nice set of quarters on Governor’s Island, in the same building with “Jack Harrison” and his fine family. I used to go almost every Saturday to Lancaster, Pa., to see my boys, and when their vaca- tion from school had arrived I had them come up and live with me, which gave me better opportunity to resume my supervision of their education and general bringing up. We had, on Governor’s Island, fine tennis courts and golf courses, and I bought the necessary implements for playing those games, and I instructed my boys to go out and play, and play hard. I took them with me to see the animals at the Bronx, and all manner of fish down near the Battery. Their first theater entertainment was the finest they ever had. We went to see “Robin Hood” played by Barnaby and his crowd of excellent artists 416 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY of that time, “The Boston Ideals,” I believe. We went together to see many other plays and light operas, and sometimes we went over to see our cousins, the Baynes, at Nutley, N. J. Only once or twice I had to put on side arms and leave the Island. On one of those occasions we saw Mrs. U. S. Grant’s remains deposited in the same big tomb which already contained those of her great husband, at Riverside, N. Y. The other time we were at the unveiling of the statue of General W. T. Sher- man, one of our Country’s greatest men, no matter from what viewpoint he should be examined. On that occasion we attended a big mid-day banquet some- where near Central Park, and I was deeply interested to see how Chauncey Depew and other noted after- dinner talkers would eat, drink, talk, or, perhaps ab- stain from doing either. Elihu Root, then Secretary of War, beat Chauncey Depew beyond comparison as an after-dinner talker. What he said was bet- ter delivered, and contained lots more that was worth remembering. Many men have expressed the opinion that Elihu Root was too brainy a man ever to be our president, like Henry Clay and James G. Blaine. I was at Governor’s Island only about nine months, and I always felt that some mistake had been made in getting me so far east. Indeed, one day some officer who had seen me in many different places, all west of the Mississippi, w'alked into my office, and could not keep back his surprised speech on seeing me there, “W’hat! You here! How did you get so far east?” But I did not remind the W 7 ar Department of the “mistake,” and continued to enjoy every day of my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 417 stay on Governor’s Island. I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel of regulars on August 21, 1903, and about the same time the detailed colonel of the Porto Rico regiment was promoted and relieved from duty in Porto Rico. I was then given command of the District, Island and Regiment of Porto Rico after nine months at Governor’s Island, part of which period I belonged to the 8th Infantry, and all of which time I assisted Barry. On September 3, 1903, I started for San Juan, Porto Rico, and after a few weeks I had my boys come on and join me. I promptly put them in the public school at San Juan. I relieved Col. James Buchanan, who then proceeded to join and command the regiment which I had belonged to for so long a time, the 24th Infantry. But, I must first give a little more of my life at Governor’s Island. While on duty there I was given a pleasant surprise in seeing my old time Adjutant at Lipa, Lieut. W. G. Doane, who was detailed as assistant to the Department Judge Advocate. On joining, Doane was given station in New York City, and was therefore entitled to commutation of quar- ters, but he could find no lodging for the amount of his commutation of quarters. He was very glad to accept my offer to share my quarters and table with him. Doane was the son of a prominent clergyman in Nebraska, and had been the Adjutant of W. J. Bryan’s regiment from that state during the Spanish War. He was one of the most attractive men that I ever saw, and living in the same house with him and eating daily with him did not diminish his charm. He 418 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY reminded me of what I had read of “Admirable Critchton,” being better than average in so many things. Men liked Doane for his many manly quali- ties and accomplishments, and women liked him because of his good looks, real politeness and graceful bearing. Old ladies liked him because he was so polite and kind in helping them with their bundles. May he live long and prosper! My quarters at San Juan were in the “Casa Blanca,” the finest and pleasantest I ever had. At that time there still remained in San Juan parts of the various supplies which had been sent to Porto Rico when the island was garrisoned by thousands of troops, consequently we were well supplied. Trans- portation, lumber and other material, also quarter- masters’ employees, all were at San Juan out of all proportion to the real needs of the small number of troops I found on the island. But it made us all the more comfortable to have all those “left over” things from other garrisons. Five companies of the Porto Rico Regiment and two companies of Coast Artillery were located at San Juan, and three companies of the Porto Ricans were stationed at Henry Barracks, Cayey, P. R. When I landed, the work of abandoning our post at Ponce was going on, and I soon got an inkling as to what I was to expect from the Insular Government of Porto Rico. The buildings at Ponce were ordered to be turned over to the Governor. This we interpreted to mean the original masonry barracks which ihe Americans had found there, and we therefore had no hesitation in beginning the tearing down of temporary buildings which we, ourselves, had added to the Ponce Barracks. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 419 The Governor of Porto Rico had his insular police take possession of all the garrison buildings at Ponce, and then he informed our working parties there that no more removal of material would be permitted. I had already been informed of instances where the Insular Government desired the possession of Army property, and, in order to settle the question, and at the same time to get for myself some general instruc- tions for my future guidance in similar cases, I wrote to Washington. After briefly describing what had happened at Ponce, and stating my belief that similar troubles might easily arise in the future, I requested some general instructions for my future guidance, ending my letter as follows: “In the absence of any instructions whatever, I shall conceive it to be my duty to hold fast to all Army property on this island, and to give up nothing without the orders of higher authority.” I never received any reply to that letter, but I am sure that it was received, and that the Adjutant General’s Department played “safe” and expressed no opinion. My letter must have said exactly what the War Department wished me to say, but, by re- fraining from answering my letter the Department was left at liberty in the future. But, my request was a reasonable one, under the circumstances, especially under the conditions existing at San Juan during my incumbency in office there. The Governor in office when I arrived at San Juan had been a schoolmate, and perhaps a classmate of the then Secretary of War, W. H. Taft. I served in the Philippines more than a year while Mr. Taft was Governor General of the Islands. Some months after my arrival at San Juan Samuel 420 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Gompers came to organize labor in Porto Rico, and he did so, with the usual results, trouble and blood- shed. The police of the island were at that time a part of the insular government, and had been organized as an incomplete regiment. The longshoremen soon went on a strike, and the draymen joined them, and in a few days policemen were needed with each volunteer dray, and finally the strikers began to disarm the police guards of drays, and to dump out the con- tents, anywhere. Late one afternoon firing was heard not far from my barracks. The police and strikers were fighting. One or two people were hit, not actually strikers but their friends and helpers. My own enlisted men of the Porto Rico Regiment were believed to be friendly to the strikers, because of their jealousy of the police. I hastened to let all know how the Porto Rico Regiment was going to stand, as between policemen and strikers. Immediately I wrote out a carefully worded order announcing that, the strikers, by having resorted to violence, had put themselves outside of the pale of the law, that the police were the champions of the law, and that, as soon as the Governor should request assistance from us we would promptly take our places beside the police, and help to put down the trouble then existing. I had the order published to each company at retreat, and I furnished copies to the daily newspapers with the request that the following day’s issue would surely contain the order, in full. The papers were glad to comply with my request, and there was no more fighting, or offer of violence that came to my hearing. The strike was ended. The police most likely believed that they had done it, but I thought A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 421 that my order was chiefly responsible for the sudden collapse of the strike. I remember nothing like an expression from the Governor of Porto Rico, thank- ing me. When Theodore Roosevelt was about to be inaugu- rated President of the United States I was directed to send the Band and one battalion of the Porto Rico Regiment to Washington, to take part in the cere- monies of the 4th of March. I selected Major T. W. Griffith to command the troops sent. The ship chosen by the Quartermaster’s Department and sent to San Juan for our men was too small for the transporta- tion of so many men, but by much personal super- vision and correction, the boat was finally made ready, the space for freight having been prepared for soldiers’ bunks. The “Arcadia” was to sail at 8, or 8.30 a.m. on March 2nd, allowing just enough time to put the ship at the wharf in Washington by 10 p.m., March 3rd. Early on the morning of the 2nd I went down to the dock, and Mr. Latimer, the agent of the ship’s com- pany, told me that the boat was all ready, so I ordered the troops put aboard promptly. They were then standing on the dock. While this was being done Mr. Latimer returned from the office of the Captain of the Port and told me that the Arcadia could not get clearance papers, because of her small tonnage and big passenger list. Immediately the two of us went to see the Captain of the Port, for the question was a new one to me. We were informed that the regulations required such a tonnage for so many men, in every boat pre- pared as a passenger carrier, and that the Arcadia did not have it. I was also informed that during the pre- 422 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ceding two or three days Washington had been com- municated with, and the only instructions received were to adhere to the regulations, strictly. It looked very much like a failure to get my Porto Ricans at Washington in time to participate in “Teddy’s” inauguration. It was the fault of the quartermaster who had hired the Arcadia without fully investigating conditions. The Captain of the Port finally said, “Now, if the Arcadia were an Army transport it would be different. I would not have a word to say.” I looked at Mr. Latimer, and he looked at me. Then I asked, “Mr. Latimer, will you let me have this boat Arcadia for use as an Army transport for this trip only?” He promptly replied in the affirmative, the Captain of the Port stated that he had nothing more to say, Mr. Latimer and I hurried back to the Arcadia, and in ten minutes more the ship began moving away from the dock. I heard about a week later that the March 3rd issue of the New York Sun had quite an interesting article about piracy in Porto Rico, and telling of the arrangement to get the Arcadia off. The Porto Rico Battalion and Band assisted at President Roosevelt’s inauguration, with no time to spare. After a month or two Mr. Latimer told me that the Arcadia had been fined some huge amount for her share of the inauguration. I advised him to get his company to take it up with the Army, the War Department at Washington, authorizing him to describe fully and exactly all the circumstances, in- cluding my taking the boat as an Army transport for that trip only. Then I prepared, and kept for many months, a full and accurate account of the entire transaction, for future reference, but the War Depart- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 423 ment never asked me for any explanation whatever. Evidently they were glad that I had done it, but they could not openly approve my action. One of the forts at San Juan was designated in old orders as a saluting station, and the coast artillerymen quartered in that fort had to return all the salutes given by visiting warships. Some time in 1904, the two companies of coast artillery were ordered back to the United States, leaving in the old forts several 7-inch siege guns, and putting it up to me to improvise a saluting squad out of my Porto Rican infantrymen. The ship with the departing artillery sailed in the morning, and a little after mid-day a foreign warship, apparently the German “Panther,” was sighted, coming towards the entrace to the harbor. I tele- phoned immediately to Lieutenant Harding, an ex- artilleryman, to instantly get a squad, go to those guns, improvise drill instructions and begin drilling, so as to be able to return the Panther’s salute. I also made arrangements with our navy people to return the salute in case my Porto Ricans could not get ready in time. The Panther passed on across the harbor that time, and returned later, when her salute was properly returned by my Porto Ricans. But, Lieut. Harding always insisted that he had his squad ready to answer the Panther’s salute if she had come in, on that first visit. With the incoming administration, a continuation of Mr. Roosevelt in office, we received a new Governor of Porto Rico, a gentleman who had been closely con- nected with Mr. Taft in the Philippines. At that time the office of governor of Porto Rico was one of the pleasantest and most lucrative in the gift of the President, carrying with it a salary of twenty thousand 424 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY dollars. Either eight or twelve thousand dollars of the governor’s salary came from the general govern- ment, and the other amount was appropriated an- nually by the government of Porto Rico. In addition, a fine, big house called “The Palace” in town, and a beautiful, but decayed country house seven miles out of town, fell to the lot of the governor. I believe that the Porto Rican Government has cut off its share of the Governor’s salary. The visits of warships became very interesting. As soon as the ship was safely at anchor I would send my adjutant to call on the ship’s commander and leave our cards. In many instances, while my adjutant was gone on that duty, the corresponding officer from the ship’s captain appeared at my office, or at my quarters, and after a very short visit, left his card and that of his captain. It so happened that no foreign ship’s captain was my senior in rank, and, therefore, the navy man paid me the first official visit, on which occasion I offered my guests most excellent mint julep, using the mint left growing in the yard at “Casa Blanca” by my predecessor, Col. James Buchanan. When I returned the call on the day following, taking my adjutant with me, the other fellow brought out his best drink. The colored commander of the “Independencia,” the entire fleet of San Domingo, had nothing but hot beer to give us, and we drank it with him, but the Duke D’Abruzzi, the Italian Prince, gave us some fine champagne, and so did one or two others, French- men, I believe. When Lieut. Moreno, my adjutant, returned from his visit to the Duke’s ship where he had left our cards, he did not know that he had called on a prince of royal A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 425 blood, and when, the same morning, the Duke’s representative left with me his own and his captain’s card, I did not examine the two pieces of pasteboard paper, therefore, when the Italian captain and his aide came next day to call on me I had no idea as to whom I was entertaining, and I have always been glad of it, for it enabled me to treat those guests just as I treated the others and with the same ease. When our Italian guests came, my colored boy Charles, a Porto Rican, who should serve our Presi- dent, counted noses as he peeped in, and in a mar- vellously short time he brought in three glasses of delicious, frosted mint julep. As Charles entered the room he found the aide nearest to him and wearing the most gold on his uniform, so he stepped up to that youngster and offered him the first glass, which almost scared the young Italian speechless. The young fellow nervously made some motion, or gesture, indicating that the drinks should go first to his com- panion, and Charles quickly took the hint. The Italian Prince was an exceedingly interesting man, and looked like some blond and blue eyed Englishman, or German, and his English was perfect. Next day I returned his call with my adjutant, and we had fine champagne aboard his small cruiser. I still had no idea that we had so distinguished a foreigner with us, and that afternoon, while driving out to the Country Club I halted my official carriage and picked up the same two Italians, inviting them to go to the club with me. This they were glad to do, for they were then on their way to that club on some other man’s invitation. Entering the club I intro- duced them to other people as “Our friend, the Cap- 426 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY tain of the Italian cruiser,” and “Our friend, the aide de camp to the Captain of the Italian cruiser.” I believe I learned the next day who my Italian captain was, and I was glad that I did not know it before. He was a fine fellow, far better than most princes are supposed to be. Soon after my arrival at San Juan I had to dismount the two mounted companies of the Porto Rico Regi- ment, then stationed at Henry Barracks, Cayey, P. R. At the auction sale of the horses and saddle outfits I bought two good ponies and saddles, etc., and I then made my sons ride, and ride, till they became tired and tried to beg off. About the same time I took them to the Country Club, and made them swim, and swim till they became tired of that, too, but while at San Juan they learned to swim and ride well. I had them at public school, with boys and girls of all sorts of people, and I en- couraged them to learn to speak Spanish by talking with their Porto Rican playmates in Spanish. In Porto Rico the mongoose is so abundant that there are very few rats and mice on the island, also very few birds and small animals of any kind. Some day there will be offered a reward for the destruction of each mongoose, just as there will be in some parts of Texas for the armadillo, and for the same reasons, the destruction by them of more valuable animal life. The aguacate makes the best salad in the world, and Porto Rico furnished the finest specimen of that fruit, which is sometimes called “alligator pear.” Porto Rico coffee is also unsurpassed in quality, but it is not abundant enough. Of course the banana and cocoa- nut abound on the island, and are of the very best A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 427 varieties. At night, down on the plaza where our regimental band and that of the Insular Police played, there were always fresh cocoanuts, uncut. I would invariably buy a cocoanut, get the dealer to clip one end of it off with his knife, and then, just as I had done many a time in the Philippines, I would put my mouth to the cut end of the cocoanut and drink all the liquid. Some saloons kept fresh cocoanuts on ice, but that made the liquid too cold for pleasant drinking. Convenient to the same plaza there was a nice confectionery store, where, in the winter time we could get, on ice, Porto Rican watermelons. Those melons were very popular. Some time in the spring of 1905 the Governor of Porto Rico requested of me permission to use part of the barracks at Aibonito during the hot season. I consented. He then informed me that he would like to have certain alterations made in some of the rooms. I told the Governor that he was welcome to use those barracks for several weeks whenever he wished, but that I could not alter a building as he wished me, because of the regulation in the Army that each had its own separate allotment for expenses, and that we had at that time no allotment whatever for any of those buildings. Those barracks had been built in the town of Aibonito by the Americans after we took possession of Porto Rico. Aibonito is on the fine military road which the Spaniards built from San Juan to Ponce, and is about mid-way between those two places, and is located on the highest ground between them. The view there is beautiful. I also declined the Governor’s request for permis- sion to make the alterations at his own expense, telling him of the Army Regulations forbidding me, 428 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY without first obtaining authority, to alter any build- ing in the Army. After two or three exchanges of that nature the Governor finally approached me at the Country Club, and there renewed the matter while we were drinking lemonade, and being, as previously, informed of our Army Regulations gov- erning the quarters question, he remarked with quite a show of feeling, “Well, I guess I’ll have to do some cabling,” to which I replied, “Certainly, Gov- ernor, I have no objection,” kindly and politely spoken, although I plainly saw his irritation. I knew then that my stay in Porto Rico would not be for much longer, and I so informed the Quarter- master General (Humphrey) several weeks later when he came down to inspect the island. I told him my reasons for believing so, and at the same time I insisted that I could not have acted differ- ently under the circumstances, which I also explained to him. I wished then for those instructions on such sub- jects which I had requested nearly two years before. In about two weeks from my last talk with the Gover- nor of Porto Rico I received a cablegram from Wash- ington, approximately as follows: “The Secretary of War directs that you allow the Governor of Porto Rico to prepare for himself habit- able quarters in the barracks of Aibonito, for occu- pancy during the hot season, and to assist him with such material and transportation as he may desire. Acknowledge receipt.” I promptly acknowledged receipt by cable, and then I furnished the Governor with a copy of the message, and expressed my readiness to comply with every A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 429 particular of it. I also requested him to inform me as to what assistance he would need, and when. On one occasion he asked the Commanding Officer at Cayey for one wagon, and so far as I could ascertain by inquiry he never altered at all those barracks at Aibonito, and never lived in them. About the first of June I received a personal letter from General Chaffee, then Chief of Staff, saying that he had just returned from the office of the Secretary of War who informed him that the Lieutenant Colonel of the 8th Infantry, then stationed in Cuba, was in San Juan, Porto Rico, absent from his regiment, and that he should be sent to join his regiment. General Chaffee added that he would very soon issue an order relieving me from duty at San Juan, and allowing me a month or two in the United States prior to going to Cuba. The Aibonito barracks and General Chaffee’s letter were clearly connected. Very soon afterwards the Secretary of War, Mr. Taft, went to the Philippines, and General Chaffee went to Honolulu, and then I received a cablegram from Adjutant General Ainsworth, saying, “Vacancy Military Secretary’s Department. Do you want it?” I cabled the same day that I would like the detail offered me, and the following day I received a second cablegram from Adjutant General Ainsworth, saying, “Orders issued today assigning you Northern Divi- sion, Headquarters St. Louis. Wait till arrival of Colonel Hobart K. Bailey who relieves you.” After being at San Juan six or eight months I was put on a Board of Officers with my classmate Glenn and Captain Carl Martin, Inf., to examine the officers of the Porto Rico Regiment under the orders then existing. Their commissions were not permanent, and 430 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY those periodical examinations were for the purpose of weeding out the inefficient. As a result of the examinations several officers were dropped, and then we began the examinations of Porto Ricans for commissions in the regiment. All the officers dropped were Americans. Before I left the island six or eight Porto Ricans were given com- missions, in each case after an examination. The majority of those men performed their duties to my satisfaction. Lieutenants Jaime Nadal, Eugenio De Hostos, and P. J. Parra were the best of them. I enjoyed very much my service in Porto Eico, where we had unusual accommodations because of the gradual evacuations of posts, which had accumu- lated great supplies at San Juan by such evacuations. The enlisted men of the regiment were very docile and easily disciplined, and the service was very attrac- t : ve to them, thus enabling us to keep the regiment always at full strength, with a long waiting list. At first the officers were all Americans, also the first ser- geants and some sergeants, but the American enlisted men were soon replaced, and the officers are gradu- ally becoming all Porto Rican. It is an excellent regiment and will always be so. The band was a fine one, an excellent leader making it so. Porto Rican music is slightly different from Spanish, Mexican and Filipina music, but there is an unmistakably Spanish sound to it. They have a national air (El Borinquen) which is quite pretty. When I saw quite a number of Spanish creoles in San Juan I was reminded of the great number of blue eyes that I saw on Esplanade Street in New Orleans. The blue eyed Spanish descendants in Porto Rico have many of the good and attractive qualities that are A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 431 noticeable on Esplanade Street. Those descendants of Latin races are fine people, in both cases. The outstanding features of my service in Porto Rico which will stick longest in my memory were, the labor strike which I believe I put down, the sending of one battalion of the regiment to “Teddy’s” inaugu- ration, the scare which the German warship “ Panther” gave us and then sailed on by us, the visit of the Italian prince who was at that time supposed to be engaged to be married to an American girl, and the disagreement with the Governor of Porto Rico which, in my opinion, caused my removal. At the end of his leave Colonel Bailey landed at San Juan, and in four or five days more my boys and I took the steamer for New York. Before going to St. Louis I went down to Washington and visited the Military Secretary’s Department. As soon as General Ainsworth saw me he said, “You had lots of trouble with the Governor of Porto Rico, didn’t you.” To my thanks for the detail in his department he replied that he had only gone strictly and carefully into the records. CHAPTER XVII I took my boys with me to St. Louis, and we put up at the “Usona,” a family hotel on Kingshighway, or 50th Street, where we lived during our entire stay in St. Louis. My first Division Commander was General George Randall, who was followed in rapid succession by Generals Weston, Corbin and Greeley. All of those officers were especially kind and con- siderate to their subordinates and clerical help. The only one of them that had anything special on his hands while there was General Greeley, who gave close personal attention to the Ute Indian outbreak in 1906, when a large body of that tribe left their reservation in Colorado and marched across Wyoming towards Fort Meade, S. D. The Utes were finally rounded up by the combined efforts of the 10th Cavalry under Col. Jake Augur, and the 6th Cavalry under Col. “Sandy” Rodgers, while that excellent field soldier Carter Johnson did most commendable service. General Greeley came to us from San Francisco, where he had been Department Commander at the time of the great earthquake and fire. When that began he was on the cars travelling across the continent eastward, on leave. He imme- diately returned to San Francisco and relieved General Funston of the command. 432 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 433 I found a member of the General Staff at our head- quarters, as Chief of Staff. That fact relieved me of some of the duties which I had formerly performed as Adjutant General of a Department. Col. H. A. Greene, Inf., was Chief of Staff, and a good one. When he went off on a long trip inspecting schools at military posts I would add his duties to mine, and even then I would not be very busy. I remember that once, for a few days, the Division Commander, General Corbin, was also absent. It was not a very difficult undertaking to decide a few questions, and sometimes sign a paper, “In the absence of the Divi- sion Commander.” General Corbin showed me the same kindly heart that he had always shown. I got to St. Louis too late to see any of the “World’s Fair” except the buildings, and the rem- nants of “The Alps.” Evidently the World’s Fair had been a stupendous thing. My first wife’s brother-in-law, Howard H. Hoyt, came down from Chicago one day and paid me a short visit. I had him with me a week or so the year before when he and his wife Mary visited us in San Juan, P. R. That visit to Porto Rico was Hoyt’s first lay off from work during his very busy life, and he enjoyed the trip immensely. When he came to St. Louis he had become a power in insurance questions. My classmate Blockson joined us as successor to Greene on the latter’s promotion to colonel, and was on hand when I needed him after a while. I always went to my military duties on Sundays the same as on other days, in St. Louis the same as at other places, in the afternoon the same as in the fore- noon. In St. Louis there being very little to do in the 434 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY afternoon I took my boys with me, and en route to the office we stopped at the shooting galleries, where I instructed the little fellows in shooting with the rifle and pistol, first teaching them how to hold the weapon and then how to aim it properly. For a short time I had them shoot only at motion- less objects, in order to be able to make the necessary corrections of the mistakes of beginners, but, after being sure that they knew how to hold the weapon and aim at such easy targets, I carried the boys to the moving targets, explaining that whatever man or beast they might want to shoot would, in all prob- ability, be moving rapidly. That practice was of great benefit. It is good for any man. Soon the need of dancing lessons became evident, so I sent my boys to a good dancing school, with my permission to drop dancing whenever it should please them to do so, but I wanted them to learn how, for two reasons which I explained to them. It makes a man surer, better and quicker on his feet in any sort of a struggle, and it tends greatly to remove awkward manners, to be a good dancer. When the proper season came around, my sons were supplied with skates and bicycles, my object being always to make them at home in all manner of proper exercises and games. I also took the boys to see what was left of the “World’s Fair.’ My brother, J. T. Crane, died while I was stationed at St. Louis, and I went down into Oklahoma, and then into Arkansas, to visit the families of my brothers, and especially my mother who lived with Tom's widow, Luta, the daughter of Dr. Styles of old Independence. A fine woman, Luta. Late in the fall of 1906 the Division Headquarters A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 435 were moved to Chicago, and located in the big Federal Building, the Department Headquarters there being already located in that same building. I returned to St. Louis and married Miss Louisa K. Tirrill on December 1, 1906, with Blockson as my best man. Again I married the descendant of a dis- tinguished old timer in our history. While Martha Mitchell was a direct descendant of John Hart, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, Louisa Tirrill was descended from John Alden and Priscilla Mullins. We took a short trip to Washington and Richmond and before the end of the month I reported for duty at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, as adjutant general of the department. I had requested the change, believing that, in justice to myself and my claims for recogni- tion in appointment to brigadier general, I ought to be among my best friends and neighbors and get their assistance. At my new post of duty my first chief was General McCaskey, who was soon retired as major general, having arrived at the age limit. That happened early in 1907, and Col. Ralph Hoyt, Inf., the senior colonel on duty in the department, came to San Antonio and Fort Sam Houston to take command until a new general should come along. General McCaskey had been prone to listen to the requests of deserters for restoration to duty without trial, also to the requests of men tried by General Courts Martial for remission of part of the sentence imposed. Soon after Col. Hoyt’s arrival we received the request for restoration to duty without trial of a soldier who had deserted about eight months before from Fort Leavenworth, and had been arrested 436 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY at San Antonio. The request had the approval of the post commander. As a result of Col. Hoyt’s action on that, and other similar requests, there was a great diminution of the number of such requests at our headquarters. Col. Hoyt was an excellent officer, and well deserved the promotion to brigadier general which he received not long afterwards. During his few weeks’ command of the Department of Texas he showed some very fine traits as a military man. The new brigadier general, Albert Myer, succeeded him, and commanded the department till his retirement for age several years later. He was very young and vigorous for his age, but did not have the good fortune to win a second star. During all those months of duty at the Head- quarters, Department of Texas, I did not miss a single day from duty, but I was gradually becoming weaker and thinner. In Porto Rico and at St. Louis I had received warnings from my stomach, which I did not think indicated anything serious. After eating nothing but milk, malted milk and zweibach for several months I obtained a sick leave, but at the date of my departure on such leave I had still strength enough to beat both of my boys at tennis singles, one set each, taking the big boy first. The boys were then 16 and 13 years of age. As early as the middle of November, 1906, while on duty at Chicago, I was hard hit in my stomach and intestines, but I hung on till I had no trouble in getting a sick leave for four months, and none in getting it extended for two months. Quite a number of surgeons treated me, but they made no improve- ment in my condition, ind rrhrn T r- n nt n ir n y T Tnd A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 437 I fihnnld PTltf^i inordec t.o.get..rftligfLmm-ffly. <^sease» They could tell me of no army hospital where a specialty was made of treatment of such cases as mine was, and I knew then that only a specialist could do me much good. While suffering from my stomach and intestines, in February and March of 1907 I was a member of the General Court Martial at Fort Sam Houston which investigated the Brownsville affair some months be- fore. The Court met daily, except Sundays, for seven weeks. My classmate Glenn was counsel for the defense, and stayed with me the entire time of the trial. We did not differ much as to the causes and merits of the case. That was the trial which gave the 25th Infantry a hard knock. When the case was nearly through, my classmate and I had much talk about our arm of the service, to which we were both devoted. We agreed that the infantry of our Army had not been receiving all that we were entitled to, in several particulars, and we believed that by a strong appeal we could wake up and arouse our comrades to action, and that by organ- izing ourselves more compactly and by working together, we could effect some changes for the better in the Army. We spent considerable time getting up a circular letter which we sent out to every infantry officer on the active list. This was our appeal, and meeting with hearty response from every direction we continued our work, and constituted ourselves and Capt. Ralph Van Deman an “Infantry Committee.” We succeeded in arousing the infantry of our Army, and by doing so the condition of the “back bone of 438 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the Army” has been greatly improved, and the influence of our branch of the service has been much increased, “for the good of the service.” We wanted the same pay that mounted officers received under similar conditions, and we wanted details, appoint- ments and promotions apportioned according to our numerical strength. We wanted an increase in the number of infantry regiments, also a Chief of Infantry to look after our interests in Washington. The purposes for which we worked have been suc- cessful beyond our expectations, but Glenn and I were both relieved from our detached service and ordered to join our respective regiments, he to go to the Philippines, and I to go to Cuba and join the 17th Infantry. It seemed to me that Glenn and I were being punished, and I have no doubt of it. I have heard more than once that because of my efforts for the infantry I had “sacrificed” myself for my arm of the service. Glenn was young enough to out- live the unfavorable conditions which we had aroused against ourselves, but I was too old. We worked hard for the infantry, did a great deal of correspondence, issued many letters of advice, and met twice in committee. The first time we met was in Columbus Barracks, Ohio, and the second time we met in Washington, D. C. Our activity made us unpopular with the War Department. In Washington I saw for the last time my best loved chief, General Hughes, then on the retired list. Again he urged me to “Get on the General Staff; they will have the disposal of all the plums, and very naturally they will divide the fruit among themselves.” I tried, but could not make it. The order for me to join the 17th Infantry in Cuba A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 439 came while I was on sick leave, and luckily I was pro- moted to Colonel, 9th Infantry on October 25, 1907, and that regiment arrived from the Philippines before the end of my sick leave. Before I departed on sick leave June 15, 1907, my ailment had been pronounced a “mild case of sprue,” and for several months I had been living on liquid food, finally increased by the dried bread called “zwiebach,” and when I left Fort Sam Houston I inquired of the surgeons I met as to what hospitals in our service gave special attention to diseases of the stomach and intestines, and I could get no positive encouragement to go to any particular hospital. I asked lots of questions, and finally departed on plans formed by myself. I included in my application a request for authority to enter the Army and Navy General Hospital at Hot Springs, Ark., in order to see what was really done there that might help me, but intending to go first to a sanitarium at Geneva, N. Y., which had been recommended to me by Col. Hoyt from his personal experience with similar trouble. I went then, first to Geneva and entered the sani- tarium, a fine place to assist a person to recuperate, or convalesce, but I had not reached that favorable a condition. After some weeks my wife came on to see me, and the result of our frequent conferences was my going to Chicago, to take special treatment under the very noted Doctor Fenton B. Turck, 1820 Michi- gan Avenue. I had for many months known of Dr. Turck and of his great reputation as a stomach special- ist, but I had been scared away from him by my fear of exorbitant charges for treatment. Finally, I con- cluded to go to him and stay out the limit of time allowed by my pocketbook, even if only for one week. 440 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I found the Doctor a very affable and agreeable gentleman of hardly 40 summers, a very robust, strong and healthy looking man. He quickly made me delighted that I had gone to him. Immediately I had faith in his methods, and I learned that his charges were very reasonable for a specialist. But he informed me that he was charging me only one-third of what he was charging civilians for the same treatment. Apparently he was influenced by some kind act done him by some officer of the Army, years before, and his kind thoughtfulness for me extended to my purse in other ways too, for he advised me to go diagonally across the street to a nice boarding house, and thus save many dollars per month, instead of staying in his sanitarium. During my entire stay under his care and treatment he gave me no medicine, and constantly encouraged me to broaden my diet. On three occasions he gave me nice dinners, twice at a fine club down on the lake and once at Evanston, taking me to those places in his own auto. At those dinners he had very tempting dishes, and he watched closely the effect eating such things had on me, feeling sure of his ability to prevent any serious damage happening to me. Dr. Turck loved to talk, and by leading the con- versation so as to have it touch on my own ailment, causes, treatment, results, etc., I learned from him a great deal of most valuable information regarding my own disease. Instead of dosing me with medicine he gave me two operations daily, five or six times a week. In the forenoon he inserted into my intestines, through the rectum, two quarts of water containing strong medicine in some form. On five or six occasions it was a solution of nitrate A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 441 of silver, on other occasions it was a solution of permanganate of potash, and there were several other powerful drugs among those given me daily in those operations, locally. Of course the nitrate of silver was somewhat painful, and I noticed that some healing and soothing solution was sure to follow next day. By much talking during those operations, all done in an easy, natural way, I learned from Dr. Turck that my intestinal trouble had been caused by constipation, the contents of the lower intestine stopping so long in one place as to finally cause irritation, which steadily increased with continued constipation, resulting in a number of sores which finally became ulcers, which would, if unchecked eat through the intestines. The nitrate of silver was intended to burn the sores, and thus change their nature, removing poison from them. The other strong solutions were used for healing purposes. In the afternoons Dr. Turck would assist me to swallow about twelve inches of a double barrel tube of rubber, one barrel of which was open five or six inches from my mouth, and the other passed into a closed glass jar which contained some very strong drug, or medicine. On the opposite side of the jar another rubber tube came out and connected with a small hollow rubber ball which was arranged so as to force the air from inside the jar down into my stomach by the mere squeezing of the rubber ball. By alternate squeezing and releasing the pressure from the ball, the Doctor inflated my stomach to what seemed to be almost the bursting point. On sev- eral occasions it was menthol which was thus forced far down my stomach. On one occasion the tube was 442 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY inserted a trifle too far, and I promptly fainted, with no bad result. Evidently Doctor Turck was trying to locally treat and heal some points of local irritation, or sores, in my stomach and intestines, by touching the spots themselves, first with a powerful cauterizer, and then cure the burn thus made by the application of a healing, soothing medicine. After five or six weeks of this treatment I was advised by him to take a few days rest. To unite recreation with my rest I went up into north Wisconsin to hunt partridges, or pheasants, near Eagle River, having first written home for my gun and hunting outfit. At Eagle River I learned that Everett’s Resort, which I intended to visit, was closed, and that all the resorts were closed for that season, it being then late in October. I had provided myself with a hunting license which allowed me to go after the Wisconsin birds only, no deer. “Ruffed grouse” is the book name for the fine game bird which I intended to hunt, and I had already killed them as “ willow grouse” in Utah, Idaho and Wyoming, and I had seen them as “partridges” at and around West Point, N. Y. They are the only grouse with white meat, not classing quail as grouse. At Eagle River I looked up a guide whose name had been given me by my wife who had, years before, spent several summers at Everett’s Resort, and with a buckboard and the guide’s little spaniel we started out to drive through the woods, and along the many lakes which abound in that section. We drove about thirty miles the first day along the old roads which had once been used in getting out the big trees of that beautiful pine forest. Thousands of immense A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 443 stumps are still there, and many more thousands of small, straight young pine trees 20 to 50 feet high. Our old roads through the light, sandy soil were some- times overgrown with clover which the grouse fed on, and my guide and the little black spaniel were on the wide awake all the time for clover. We always dismounted, and tied the team when- ever we found clover, and the dog would be encour- aged to hunt. Frequently one or two birds would be found by the dog and made to fly up into a tree, and by the dog’s barking we would be guided to the spot. In hunting this way I succeeded in killing four birds the first day. The weather was very cold to me, not- withstanding my very warm clothing. It snowed a little, and then it apparently got too cold to snow. We saw some beautiful lakes of clear* blue water, all surrounded by dense woods and sometimes containing a small island. Late in the afternoon we arrived at a resort on the shore of a bigger lake than usual. The guide called the lake then, “Muscalonge Lake,” but, we had been talking about that famous fish. We stopped there for the night, and we were well taken care of, man and beast, and I especially enjoyed the excellent fresh meat, which my guide had before our arrival warned me not to ask any questions about. The guide had said that we would be given some very fine fresh meat, which I was not to ask the name of, and that this fine meat would resemble young, tender beef, but that it would be something else. The game season for deer had not then opened. The next morning we started for Eagle River by a different road, passing close to eight beautiful small lakes, and we found more clover growing along the roads, consequently I got some more birds, making 444 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY eleven in all. But I was so weak, and my 10 gauge double barrel Parker shotgun was so heavy that I missed all of my seven wing shots. The birds were very tame. The little black spaniel would run out and find a bird, make it fly up a tree, and then the dog would bark, to let us know where he and the bird were. Sometimes when w r e arrived where the dog was the bird was gone, but I had no doubt that in each case of barking by the dog the pheasant had been there. On returning to Eagle River I put all the birds in my dress suit case, and in this manner I carried them down to Chicago. In the same way, in the winter of 1897-8 I carried some mallard ducks and prairie chickens from the old Fort Hall Indian Agency back to Fort Douglas. In Chicago I presented eight of my pheasants to Dr. Turck. He had been so kind to me that I was very glad to be able to make some small return. The other three birds I took to my board- ing house, gave one to my landlady and kept two for my own table, and when I found how good and small they were I wished that I had kept more of them for myself. There were three others at my table, and I divided my birds with them. When I felt so much improved that I could go and perform my military duties, and had absorbed from Dr. Turck enough information about my condition to be able, in a measure, to continue some of his work, I left him and went on to our big hospital at Hot Springs, Ark., where my orders authorized me to go. I did not expect any more benefit from treatment there, but I wanted to know if our fine Army and Navy Hospital there had the necessary facilities and were accustomed to treat just such cases as mine. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 445 That information I might need in the future, in case of return of my dread disease which had been left me as a legacy by my amoebic dysentery contracted during my “hikes” in Batangas Province, Panay. I really did not believe that I would find at Hot Springs the skill and information necessary for treatment of such cases as mine, and I was very agreeably surprised to find that the Surgeon in Charge was prepared to do so. He had gone to Carlsbad, Bohemia, for treat- ment of his own case, he informed me. I spent the last seven or eight days of my sick leave at our Hot Springs hospital, and, while I don’t believe that Dr. Turck’s success in my case could have been duplicated there, I am sure that I would have been greatly benefited by going there in the beginning, especially if that same surgeon would have been there to treat me. The idea of going to Hot Springs was my own, without suggestion from any one. I remembered from my experience there in 1894 how good and pure that water was, and I had great faith in it. From Dr. Turck I got the belief that diseases like mine were local; being points of local irritation and subject to local treatment if they could be reached locally; that after long neglect the irritation would become a sore, and then an ulcer, and a malignant growth, causing all sorts of diseases, including cases of sprue like mine. For cases like mine had become, the swallowing of medicine could give little relief, except from pain, and that, I did not have, strange to say! Anything like permanent cure must be accomplished by reaching the various places locally, with some strong medicine which would effect practically a burn, and in such manner alter the nature of the malady. 446 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Indeed, most cases of infection seem to call for either a burn or the cutting away of the part affected, or infected, and this seems to hold good, no matter what part of one’s anatomy may be affected. In this con- nection I have often remembered that old story of the country doctor, who was not so ignorant as he described himself as being, when he said, “I don’t know much about medicine, but I have something that will throw a man into fits, and then, I’m hell on fits.” Thousands of cases fail to be cured, but most burns can be cured, also most amputations. Dr. Turck has so prospered in his work that he now lives in New York, and is said to have time to treat only millionaires, but I can hardly believe that, and I am sure that he would find time to work another miracle on me if I should again appear in his office in need of treatment. My sick leave was for six months, for I found it necessary to get an extension of two months to the four months first granted me. By regular habits, and, by not eating some things that other people act unwisely in eating, I have practically regained my health, but not my proper weight, nor my old time strength which always seemed to depend on my weight. From that long sick leave I returned for the last time to duty in the line, having been promoted during my absence and assigned to the 9th Infantry, and strange to say, I did not have a change of station except to go from the staff post to the infantry post at Fort Sam Houston. When I arrived from the Army and Navy Hospital about the middle of Decem- ber, 1907, I found my family still in the lower, or staff post, but it did not take me long to get into my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 447 proper quarters, No. 26. On my promotion to that fine regiment I felt again as I had felt on promotion to captain and the command of Company “F,” 24th Infantry. In both cases my new organization was already at such a high state of discipline and general efficiency that, for me, it was more a question of retaining and holding my command at its former excellent condition than of trying to make a record by a marvellous improvement. But I am proud in my belief that, during my entire incumbency in office as colonel of the 9th Infantry, I kept the regiment in a condition at least as good as I found it in. One most noticeable peculiarity was the very strong regimental feeling which I found existing, and which I made it a point to foster and preserve and to use as a means of keeping up a high state of discipline and efficiency. In the regiment I found somewhat different methods from those I had seen practiced in the 24th Infantry, and quite a number of them I tested and continued the use of. More liberty was allowed the enlisted men of the 9th Infantry, and, while I was sometimes in doubt as to its advisability, I found it an excellent thing and at the same time to hold to strict accountability for misbehaviour. I have never regretted being young enough to learn a thing or two regarding the important matter of discipline. Garrison duty at that time was beginning to in- crease, and to grow more voluminous and exacting, covering more ground than ever before. I found also more social duty than I had ever seen before. Fort Sam Houston was even then a large post, and it is still growing. Col. J. H. Dorst was then its permanent commanding officer, and Col. Lotus Niles, Field Artillery was also my senior in rank. Nevertheless, 448 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I was for about eight months post commander, and I enjoyed it very much. Test rides for officers had begun the year before, and I had ridden one under General Myer, it being then a test ride of 15 miles at quite a fast gait. I rode it on my new bay horse “Dandy,” which my wife had waiting for me on my return to duty. She got my old time friend Ripley to select and buy the animal for me, and again Ripley made good. I rode that good horse till I left for the Philippines. During the early spring of 1908 I went to Bandera, Texas, and up the Medina River for nearly 60 miles, to inspect a tract of about 2300 acres of land which I read advertisement of in San Antonio newspapers at one dollar and a quarter per acre. I was looking to make an investment for my wife. I went to Boerne by rail, then 15 miles by stage to Bandera, on the Medina River, where I stopped for the night and interviewed the agent for the land, who had previously promised to take me up the river to where the land was. Near the close of the second day w*e found a farmer who knew where the land was, and he loaned me a good saddle horse to ride about three miles out into the hills to look at it. Before leaving Fort Sam Houston I could not understand how land in Bandera County could be worth only one dollar and a quarter per acre, but, after inspecting the land which I had gone there to see, I understood it very well, and I knew that I had seen some of it. Some scrub cedar and thorny bushes were about all that the soil of that land could afford, or support. So, on returning to the agent whom I had left with the farmer, I had to inform him that I could not buy the land. The valley from Bandera to my A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 449 stopping place was beautiful, and I saw lots of good small farms, and land good for farming, and I returned to Bandera sure that in a few years that there would be a railroad following the valley of the Medina River. I still believe that. But I returned to Fort Sam Hous- ton somewhat wiser regarding the value of land adver- tised for sale. Soon after that I went up to Dallas to look at some more land, and my nephew Harry Bondies showed mjf" a beautiful piece of ground just outside of the cittf - limits, but it was too hilly, and it was cut up by a small running creek, so that I could not get my own consent to buy that land either. So I rode out from San Antonio in every direction, and I examined quite a number of pieces of land which I had seen advertised for sale in the papers, all to no good result. Finally, while riding horseback out on the old Castroville road, beyond the city limits, I saw, on the north side of the road, one hundred acre tracts advertised for sale, at a given value. That land I bought for my wife. In June, 1908, the regiment marched to Austin, Texas, and back, on a practice march. The weather was hot, and it made hard marching, showing the advisability of completing the day’s march by 11 o’clock a.m. whenever practicable, starting earlier when having to make longer marches. On May 18, 1908, a son was born to us and lived only 40 hours. In the fall of 1908 I began to feel the hunter’s desire for outdoor exercise. Near San Antonio there were many “Bob White” quail, innumerable small rabbits and some ducks, and I went after that game, and on quite a number of occasions I took my boys 450 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY with me, making them shoot almost entirely at mov- ing objects. As a boy I had done very little wing shoot- ing, because of the scarcity of ammunition, but such good excuse did not apply to my boys, and I saw to it that they had the opportunity for wing shooting which I had not the ammunition to indulge in. I am sure that they were greatly benefited by it. In going to hunt ducks on Mitchell Lake, near San Antonio, I went with officers of the regiment: Leonard, Lewis, Smith, and Welborn, and I hunted quail with Coleman, who had been one of my 9th Immune captains. In the fall of 1909 the regiment was sent to Dallas, Texas, to take part in some exhibition drills and exer- cises. A battery of field artillery and a troop of cavalry also went. We travelled by rail, and the regi- ment unloaded just before the cavalry did and, while the cavalry captain was sitting on the fence, or railing, and with frequent and energetic instruction was supervising the unloading of his troop property, one of my privates happened to pass along. The infantry- man’s attention was attracted by the energy, and the snappy orders that were being given by the cavalry captain, so the “doughboy” stepped up to a cavalry- man close by, and in low tone asked him, “Who is that guy?” The horseman apparently understood the not very respectful description of a captain of regulars, for he answered just as quietly, “That’s our Captain.” The infantryman looked on a little longer, and then he remarked, in the same quiet tone, “Well! He’s got our Bookie (Bookmiller?) skinned a mile!” The troops put up a fine tournament for about a week, and then we started home, marching the first A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 451 hundred miles. It was very warm weather, and I used the opportunity to improve on my marching to Austin the year before, by doing more early starting, and making the point of getting into camp by 11 o’clock a.m. Each day we camped at some town and gave the people some good music by our band. At Waco we camped on the bluffs above the city and a great many people visited our camp, among them being the President of Baylor University, Dr. S. P. Brooks. The Doctor took me, late in the after- noon, down in the city to see the buildings of the fine institution of which my father was president for more than 22 years, and of which he — Brooks — was then the president and a most efficient one. During our short drive in the Doctor’s buggy we met a son of one of the Burleson brothers, Rufus and Richard, and I went over to his buggy to shake hands with him. Rufus Burleson was President of Baylor University both before and after my father who died in harness, in February, 1885. A brother of those distinguished educators was the eminent soldier, Edward Burleson, whose military services against Mexicans and Indians were of the highest character, including many engagements, and whose civil service to the state culminated with that of Vice President of the republic. At Temple our camp was hardly pitched when a tall boy came up to me and said, “My Ma says she wants to see you.” To my question as to his mother’s identity the boy replied, “She was Bettie Johnson. She married Tom Lipscomb, you know.” I did know, and I followed the son to see his mother who had grown up before my eyes when I was a young man at old Independence. I enjoyed the visit very much, 452 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY talking over old times, and learning the whereabouts of many other friends of old times. Later in the day, in the afternoon, two elderly gentlemen walked up to my tent, and one of them asked, “Are you Charlie Crane?” and I recognized two brothers, Jerry and John Stephens, who lived out near Gay Hill, a few miles from my home. The pretty daughter of one of them was also in my camp at the same time. As one grows older the greater is one’s pleasure at meeting old friends of long ago, and so I found it during that trip. In Dallas I had met my boyhood’s schoolmate and playmate, Andrew Hous- ton, and several other old time friends, and at another town it was Harvey Sims, who studied Latin with me at old Independence. My son Mitchell had accompanied me to Dallas, and he walked nearly the entire 100 miles that we marched on our road home, which was good training for the boy. He had previously gone with the cavalry to attend a militia camp at Austin, and had ridden horseback both ways. While there Mitchell met Arthur McKnight, another old time friend of mine. Arthur lived at Amarillo, and had furnished the horses of one of the militia troops at the camp. At Dallas I had also seen again my mother, and my sister Hallie. Later in the fall of 1909 President Taft and the Secretary of War, J. M. Dickinson, came to Fort Sam Houston, and the new chapel was presented and accepted during their short visit. A nice reception was given the presidential party at the officers’ club. I met both the distinguished guests, one at a time. President Taft quickly asked, “Did you ever serve in Porto Rico?” and then I knew that he remembered A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 453 me and my refusal to allow his former secretary to “prepare for himself habitable quarters during the hot season, in the barracks at Aibonito.” That same chapel continued for two years more, not quite finished. It had originally been donated and partly built by the city of San Antonio, the work being done under the supervision of Chaplain Dickson of the regular Army, and it is a fine, imposing edifice. The test rides came off in October, each year, and the Department Commander and his Chief of Staff led about twenty-five officers to New Braunfels the first day. There we camped in the beautiful grounds of Mr. Harry Landa, who also gave us a fine banquet down in the woods close to the stream. In addition, he allowed us to use his commodious bath houses on the banks of the river where the water was clear and cool. Harry Landa was the king of New Braunfels, and a very hospitable, generous potentate he was. The second day we rode to Seguin, lunched and rested there, and then returned to camp. Our ride on the third day carried us back to our post. The first day we made the distance of thirty miles in much less time than was required, which was six and a half hours, and for the next two days we cut off time from the seven and a half hours allowed. My horse had beautiful gaits, to go at his own will, but to be com- pelled to travel at another’s will and at faster gaits than Dandy’s made the rides very fatiguing to me. The prettiest horse on either ride was the one ridden by my mounted orderly, a horse which I had selected out of a lot of 40 or 50 government horses in the corral. The old corral boss very highly recom- mended another horse, and in the corral we were trying to get a good look at it, but the young animals. 454 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY led by one more unruly than the others, trotted about following their leader with heads and tails in the air, and snorting loudly. After a little of that one of the horses in the rear left the bunch and slowly and deliberately walked straight up to where we stood in the center of the pen, stopped close to us and seemed to invite inspection. The more I looked at the animal the prettier he became, and, wondering at the selection of the corral master, I asked, “What’s the matter with this horse?” “Well, he’s a pretty good plug,” he replied, “but he hasn’t much style about him.” But, as I patted and petted the beautiful red bay which was not a bit afraid, I was convinced that he had plenty of style, and after riding him that after- noon I selected the animal as my orderly’s mount. “Billy” was very soon his name, and he was one of the prettiest and most attractive horses I ever saw, almost the equal of my horse “Frank” at Fort Sill. There were three horses in my yard, including “Pocohontas,” a horse I had bought at a sale of con- demned cavalry horses for my son Mitchell, but Billy was easily the leader, and he made the others do exactly as he wished. After improving steadily in value and good looks for about eight months, Billy died as the result of over exertion in chasing the other horses around the yard in rear of my quarters, No. 26, Infantry Post. On the morning following the very energetic and violent chasing which my wife and I had noticed about 9 o’clock p.m. Billy was stiff, and plainly showed serious and painful internal injury. He lived hardly long enough to be led down to the horse hospital, where he died in a few minutes. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 455 For our target practice we had to go to the Leon Springs Reservation, about 23 miles north of the post. That reservation was then about four miles by five. It is now considerably enlarged, and furnishes fine terrain for field exercises, which we used to call “sham battles.” In July of 1908 we had several regiments of Texas militia, and one from Oklahoma, in addition to our regulars from Fort Sam Houston, and the several weeks spent on the reservation in military work were very enjoyable and instructive. Of course the militia came there to fly before they had learned to crawl, causing them after arrival to waste most of their alloted time in close order drills, instead of using it as intended, in more advanced work, like field exercises of various kinds such as regulars use in their more advanced work. The en- campment was really intended for those advanced exercises, and, as shown above, we got very little of the real purpose of it. That criticism of the militia comes from every encampment where regulars and militia try to work together. They want to skip the months of close order drills and begin at a point which it requires months and years for regulars to reach. It is practically impossible to keep militia organiza- tions at the numerical strength necessary to give proper attendance at combined maneuvers and field exercises, and the result is that companies of about half absolutely new men attend on such occasions, making it impossible to properly do the advanced work intended. Under all the circumstances it seems to me that the citizen soldiers are greatly to be com- mended for the degree of efficiency which they actu- ally manage to attain. Our people, with rare exception, make the great 456 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY mistake of thinking that a soldier is merely a man with a rifle in his hand, and perhaps wearing a uniform. They also seem to imagine that any fool has enough ability to be an officer, and that no special education is necessary. The stories of Lexington, Bunker Hill, King’s Mountain and New Orleans are wrongly interpreted by our people, and wrong lessons are drawn. Our people forget that the officers and enlisted men of those battles were — most of them — seasoned men of much experience in war, and the best marksmen of those times when the rifle was much depended upon for the daily ration of meat. Those men were, in a way, disciplined warriors, well instructed and efficient, and in addition to their being good shots they had an unknown world in their rear to which they could retreat when beaten and where they could prepare for another trial of strength. Now, once defeated, our first crowd of hastily raised men could not rally, for because of changed conditions made by great increase of population, and the disappearance of game and Indians, our people are not of the same material that furnished our soldiers a hundred years ago, or even sixty. Few can shoot a rifle, and fewer still can ride a horse. When sick we employ a surgeon, or a physician; in building a house we employ regularly trained and skillful carpenters, bricklayers and plumbers. We get our bread from bakers who have for years done that sort of work; for bridge building and surveying we search for skilled men of much experience and much previous instruction. We pay big money for lawyers of long study and much practice to see us through an important lawsuit, and, generally speaking, we look for specialists to do all our work which requires A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 457 skilled labor. All the experienced, learned and skilled men alluded to have spent years and years in the study and practice of their trades and professions, and we know that we must have just such men, or lose out. But, strange to say, our people seem to see nothing wrong or inconsistent in trusting their sons and friends to the ignorance and inexperience of militia and volunteer officers who know so little of Army camp life, or of handling troops on the march, or in battle. Till recently no nation had accepted compulsory military service and an efficient military organization without having previously drunk the bitterest dregs of defeat and humiliation. Germany, France, Austria, Russia and Italy have all had the experience described, and Great Britain, with full knowledge of what had happened to others, was at last forced under most humiliating conditions to adopt a modified form of compulsory military service during the Great World War. Japan’s experience and humiliation occurred long ago, when the war ships of Great Britain and the United States visited Japan, in the fifties of the last century. She was quick to learn. Noted exceptions to the rule that terrible necessity and disaster forced them to compulsory militarv ser- vice have been given by Australia, Argentine^ and Switzerland. They will surely never regret having been wise enough to learn from the lessons of others. It is the prayer of thousands of well informed citizens that we too may be fortunate enough to join the list of exceptions, and that we may so prepare ourselves by early military training at schools, and by short terms of universal service afterwards, as to make it too difficult and dangerous an undertaking for any two nations to tackle us. 458 . A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Bismarck is said to have made the remark, “A special Providence seems to look after the welfare of women, infants, idiots and the United States,” and many a time during my service in Cuba and the Philippines I have heard and have used the expression, “God Almighty is on our side again.” But even God Almighty may finally tire of doing a good thing, and may at last look the other way when trouble once more threatens the over-confident people of these United States. And when that happens, his with- drawal of special care over our nation will call for the exercise of greater leadership than it has been my good fortune to observe. After our target practice in 1909 the 9th Infantry and some cavalry from Fort Sam Houston were sent to El Paso, Texas, to attend the meeting of the dis- tinguished presidents of the two great republics of North America. I was glad to get an opportunity to see Porfirio Diaz. I had read about him a great deal, and I had for many years considered him as one of the greatest rulers of the world. A man that can for more than 30 years compel the Mexicans to behave themselves, cannot be classed otherwise than as belonging in the list of great men of all time. Don Porfirio has had no equal in Mexico, and I doubt if he ever will. He finally fell because he went back on his best friend, the United States, and, when he signed the treaty to allow Japan certain rights and properties along the Gulf of California, he signed the warrant for his own destruction and down- fall. At El Paso Diaz looked every inch a king, and a great and gracious one. The 9th Infantry took part in guarding and escorting the two presidents while IN 1913 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 459 on our side of the Rio Grande, and many of us, in uniform but unarmed, crossed the river and walked about a little in Juarez. We were glad when the entire affair was ended, without any accident or other trouble of any kind. We were afraid of anarchists. It seems too horrible that a man, selected by his fellow citizens to serve as their ruler for four years, should be compelled to go about guarded like a tyrant, and yet we know from the sad cases of Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley that such precaution is ab- solutely necessary. And the effort, in more recent time, upon the life of ex-President Theodore Roose- velt, proves that anarchists, the reptiles of modern society, do not stop at present rulers when they are out to kill. To some extent I am a believer in the law and justice of Judge Lynch, for the reason that the slow and uncertain processes of our law offer so many oppor- tunities to evade just punishment. The same reason is at the bottom of every case of lynching. The people are afraid that just punishment will not be meted out to the guilty man, and when just punishment is habitually so slow in coming, the proper edge and effect have disappeared, and the chief lesson of punishment fails to be evident. The chief object of punishment is to deter others from going and doing likewise, and if a real, prompt and just punishment were sure to be given the man who has earned it, there would be no lynch law, and there would be exceedingly few killings of rulers, and train wrecking and all sorts of robbing would practi- cally cease. We have not yet made the punishment to fit the crime, and as a result, our freedom has too often degenerated into license. 460 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Again I had to go to Oklahoma, that time to attend the funeral of my brother Gordon at Checotah. My mother was there, a tower of strength always. From the very beginning I trained my sons to look forward to service in the Army, and I was careful to give them such school training as would assist them to enter the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York. I saw to it that at school they were instructed in those branches of learning most necessary to a candidate for entrance at West Point, and I also had them given special instruction for some months prior to entrance examinations. In addition, I made great effort to get appointments for both of them, without which all such preparation would mean but little. Once I tried to see President Roosevelt regarding Carey’s appointment, but I could get no farther than his private secretary, Mr. Loeb, but the result proved that I lost nothing by leaving it to him, as he suggested. In February, 1908, the boy was offered the appoint- ment, to report in March, only a week or two before his 17th birthday, and when I informed the War Department regarding my son’s age the offer was withdrawn, but it was renewed the following year, and Carey entered the Academy in March, 1909. His special preparation was given him by Professor Kristeller, of San Antonio, during the two months prior to the examination, which took place at Jefferson Barracks, Mo. At that time the President appointed principals and alternates, and, as indicated by the names, the principals had the first chance at the vacancies. When I saw Mr. Loeb there were seven vacancies, and in addition to the seven principals the names of nine alternates appeared above the name A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 461 of my son. However, I had no doubt that my boy would get one of the vacancies, which he did. In the fall of that same year I sent my younger son, Mitchell, to the Virginia Military Institute, at Lexing- ton. That school has a land record in the Civil War second only to that of our National Military Academy, and the cadets there have a spirit resembling very much that given at West Point. With the departure of both boys for distant schools I knew that for the future I would see very little of them. The graduate of West Point belongs to his country, and he is at home wherever his tent is pitched, or where the “grub” wagon stops for the night. While I was serving at Fort Sam Houston I received a letter from Robert DeWare, my young sergeant in the Philippines. The letter was written from Arizona, and contained a request for a written recommendation from me. I was glad to hear again from DeWare, and I sent him a good, strong recommendation. A few months later my ex-soldier of the 38th Vols. entered my office. He was much taller, broader and thicker than he was in the islands, and he retained all the good looks of the Culbersons, which branch of his family he resembled very much in appearance. He was the handsomest big man that I ever saw, and even more attractive than when a young soldier. I was exceedingly glad to see him. Robert DeWare died at Brenham, Texas, during the winter of 1919-1920. I regretted his death almost as though he had been of my own blood. The many shade trees at Fort Sam Houston give homes to many birds. Near the old hospital, in the staff post, I saw two drunken red breasted robins, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY one near the southwest entrance gate, and the other close to the hospital. Those birds showed their intoxi- cation as plainly as possible. I suppose they had been eating china berries. In the quadrangle one day I saw a big black jackdaw teasing a peacock with most evident enjoyment. The jackdaw would put himself on the peacock’s big broad tail, and get a free ride. But the peacock did not have the same amount of pleasure. It annoyed him im- mensely. This continued till I interfered. Down in the Brackenridge Park where other pea fowls were kept I saw a guinea hen getting free rides from a poor pea hen. The guinea would outrun the larger bird, fasten her beak on the wing of the other, then hang on by her bill, feet dragging on the ground. This also continued till I interfered. Birds seem to have some human nature, too. With the coming of the year 1910 approached the date of the regiment’s next tour of duty in the Philip- pines, and on March 29, 1910, we took train at Fort Sam Houston, and started across the continent for San Francisco, Cal. CHAPTER XVIII Our route was a combination of the southern railroads, going west from Albuquerque, N. M., so as to avoid the hot part of Arizona and Southern Cali- fornia. Following the general idea which had been put into effect in moving my regiment by rail on previous occasions I prepared, with the assistance of my adjutant, Capt. F. R. Brown, very complete and carefully worded instructions, giving the men much freedom and yet holding them to strict accountability for wrong doing. They were allowed to get off the train at any stop. It was arranged to have the bugler sound the “Assembly” five minutes prior to moving off. It required close understanding with the railroad people to be able to do this, but by continued and close attention we did it, and as a result, not a man was dropped between San Antonio and San Francisco. We arrived at the latter place several days before the sailing date, and the men had to be paid off before leav- ing. Naturally I was quite uneasy as to the result, but I continued the same kind of treatment I had been giving the men. In full and carefully worded orders the men were allowed to consider the ship as their station, or post, just as Fort Sam Houston had been, and they were given freedom to leave the ship under the same conditions and circumstances as at their regular post, making sure of their return for certain 463 464 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY duties. Copies of the order were furnished in abun- dance, and it was made sure that they were published to the men, just as had been done for the railroad travel, so as to make sure that the men were well informed as to what was expected of them. Full information was given each organization as to the hour of sailing, which information was also posted on various parts of the ship, so as to catch the soldier’s eye in leaving and in returning to the ship. This hour, as announced, was really one hour in advance of the exact time of departure intended, and the intended hour was not changed. In addition to all this, one hour prior to the announced hour of departure a non- commissioned officer and several enlisted men were sent out to the neighboring resorts where the men had been congregating, to bring in all slow movers, and men under the influence of liquor. The result was a departure, after two or three days in San Francisco, including a pay day, with every man aboard, and this included between 50 and 100 men of other organiza- tions, booked to go with us and who had been treated exactly like my own men. I made no difference in my treatment of them, and I had no reason to regret it. I commanded the U. S. Army Transport Sherman, the same ship that brought me home in 1902, and I found that, somehow, the boat had acquired a roll and a pitch which I could not remember as having belonged to her during the previous trip. We stopped 24 hours at Honolulu, where I allowed the men the usual liberties, and where we met the 23rd Infantry en route to the United States. That regiment left quite a number of men behind at Honolulu, having had a baseball match there, the men not knowing the hour of departure exactly. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 465 We enjoyed our short stay in Honolulu very much indeed. I saw there Major Holbrook, who had been my comrade in the 38th Vols. in the Philippines, and was by him taken around to see the interesting points in the suburbs. With the same careful attention to the same details, the same freedom for my men and the same methods of insuring that they all understood the order about sailing, also the small guard sent out to pick up and hurry back the stragglers, we sailed from Honolulu with every man aboard that belonged with us. With the same methods and management we had the same good luck at Guam, where we stopped nearly all daylight of one day. There the ship had to anchor nearly a mile and a half from shore, and the men had to take advantage of various means to get there. I inquired as to the size of the island from the naval officers with whom we dined in port, also as to the game on the island, and, in spite of the big cable plant there, I got the idea that I would not like to be left behind at Guam. Apparently my men were of the same opinion as to the desirability of living at Guam. In going back to the ship I noticed that the men were hanging close to the dock, and they crowded each small boat returning to the Sherman for hours before the time set for sailing. Some months after- wards I read in one of our service journals of the insanity and sending back to the United States of one of the naval officers who had treated us so kindly at Guam. Apparently the feeling “so far from home and friends” weighs heavily there, as at other similar places. It sometimes hits us that way in the Philip- pines, too. Until we arrived at Honolulu we knew nothing of 466 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY our prospective stations in the Philippines, and we supposed that we would first go to Manila, but at Honolulu we learned that the regiment would be divided between Warwick Barracks at Cebu, Camp Downs at Ormoc, Leyte, and Ilo Ilo, Panay ; in strength of six companies, four companies and two companies, respectively. We had an unusual strength of officers, and the regiment was full of enlisted men, too. All the field officers were aboard, or awaiting our arrival. We landed first at Cebu, May 2, 1910, with Band, Headquarters and first six companies in alphabetical order, the next two going to Ilo Ilo, and the entire 3rd Battalion taking station at Camp Downs, Leyte. We had a trip from San Antonio to Cebu of which we were very proud. Certainly our experience and good fortune were very unusual. While at sea I made it a point not to interfere with the men’s games and amusements, although I could plainly see gambling going on every day, as I made my ship inspection. Indeed, if I looked for it, I could see gambling at almost any hour of the daylight. In the beginning I had carefully informed my men that I did not approve of gambling, but that I did not prohibit it, and that I would be very sure to punish every violation of regulations and every trouble that resulted from gambling. On that part of the decks allowed the men, many times I walked among, or through my men busy at some form of gambling in absolute quiet and good order. My only prohibition was that no civilian should be allowed in the gambling with soldiers. I did not have to interfere on any occasion, yet those men knew that I did not gamble and did not approve of it. I never heard of such an A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 467 uneventful trip as the one we had in our move to the islands, as regards misconduct on the part of any one belonging to the service. My men were not angels, for on the first or second night out from Honolulu a corporal was drunk, and had a bottle partly filled with whiskey in his possession. Immediately the whiskey was thrown overboard, the corporal confined and next day he lost his chevrons by sentence of Summary Court Martial. On board ship the presence of alcoholic drink is dangerous, and it cannot with safety be allowed in the hands of the men. Of recent years regulations restricting its pos- session by officers on board ship have been put into effect. Of this, too, the result has been good, and it could not be otherwise. I never allowed whiskey in my men’s barracks, but I never prohibited my men from drinking it outside. I would not issue an order which I could not enforce, and I could not prevent my men from drinking in any saloon that was avail- able. However, I held my men to strict accountability for their conduct after drinking. Drinking does not excuse an offence; if anything, it should make the punishment more severe for any offence brought on by drinking. Our disembarkation at Cebu was quickly and quietly done. Four companies moved into Warwick Barracks, and two others went into camp at the target range two miles away, in a cool spot at the foot of the mountain backbone of the island. The barracks were built by the Spaniards many years ago, and were very comfortable. The government had no quarters for officers there, therefore we lived all over the town, in such houses as could be rented from the owners. Officers were allowed to select, according to 468 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY rank, from a number of houses which we were in- formed were available. We relieved Capt. John Howard and his company of the 19th Infantry, and the captain assisted us very much with information and good advice based on a knowledge of existing conditions. For my quarters I selected the same building that General Hughes occupied in September, 1901, when I stopped a week with him en route to Japan on sick leave. I knew the building well, for I too had occupied it during my week’s stay with the General, and I knew it to be the best of the houses available, as well as being the closest to the barracks, being on the plaza fronting the barracks, and adjacent to them at one corner. It seemed to me that some of my officers showed a desire to get away from barracks, or from me, but I considered it to be my duty to be near those bar- racks, especially after seeing that my officers were locating themselves so far away from their men. Many times I congratulated myself on my selection of quarters so near barracks. Many times I had to go out quickly to my office in the afternoon, out of office hours, because of the unexpected, which so often happens. I always spent from 9 a.m. to mid-day at the office, and in the afternoon from 4 to 6, when I cleaned up all unfinished business. It was my practice to complete my desk work every day, so that, prac- tically, there was no left over paper work from any day. Many incidents occurred in the afternoon and evening which required my presence at the office promptly, and my being so near was a source of great satisfaction to me, because it assisted me so materially to keep in touch with everything going on. At Cebu we found the same powerful English banks, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 469 and the same steamship and hemp companies as before, and their representatives and employees were very gentlemanly and accommodating. In fact, our British friends in the Orient made life much more pleasant for us than it would have been without them. There were some Spanish firms at Cebu, and they, too, were very kind, and one or two American houses were struggling upward. Many Chinese were there, and, as before, I found them the most reliable people in the far east. Our first morning in Cebu a Chinaman appeared at my quarters, and wanted to cook for us. He said that he had helped me to get a cook in 1901. I accepted him, and he served us well. If, for any such reason as sickness, or confinement in jail because of being caught smoking opium, my Chinese cook saw that he could not prepare our break- fast, that did not seem to interfere with my household affairs in the slightest. Without my knowledge of his trouble the breakfast appeared, the same as usual, looked and tasted the same, and was served in the same quantities. Once or twice Mrs. Crane ascertained only by going to the kitchen that we had a new cook that morning, because of “John’s” absence. I always called my Chinaman “John,” after learning that his first name was the same as mine, and I got the habit of calling most of them by that name. “John Chinaman” sounds natural. A “Mr. Man,” a Chinaman from Honolulu, was the big groceryman, and he was also the Chinese boss in Cebu. One day I was buying something from him when he asked me if I liked my cook. In surprise I told him that I had a good Chinese cook. He said that he knew that, but that, if I had any trouble with 470 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY him, he (Man) would help me to make the cook behave, or to get another one. He knew my cook’s name and all about him. On several occasions he did help me out, and was very kind and accommodating. He, and another Chinese merchant named “See-Sip,” talked good English, and allowed their wives to go out on the streets. In fact, they brought them to call on us, and they also took their wives to the “movie” theaters. These two Chinamen were the first in Cebu to cut their cues when China became a republic in 1911. My relations with the Chinese during my five years in the Orient, in 1889 to 1902, and 1910 to 1912, have kept in my mind and heart very kindly sentiments towards them. They were the people to whom we went for almost everything in business, and their business manners and methods pleased me very much. I would tell the Chinaman what I wanted, he listening intently with his head cocked a little to one side, and when I stopped talking he would perhaps ask a ques- tion or two for more information, and then he would tell me bluntly and truthfully what he could and would do, and what he offered me I usually accepted as being the best that I could get anywhere, in which I believe that I did well. Written agreement he did not care for, except that it would bind the other man. He felt bound by his word, and he would hold to his bargain even if he would lose money by so doing. At least, I heard that of the Chinaman more than once during my stay in the Orient. A Chinaman is not near so polite as the Japanese, but he is far more truthful, honest and reliable, also more industrious. Moreover, they are our friends everywhere in the Orient. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 471 Very soon after my arrival at Cebu I learned that the native of that island had not improved any since my last duty in the Philippines. At that time he was considered the meanest outside of Samar, and I soon found that, taking the police as fair representatives of the people, they were still just as mean, and in need of good killing as we had known them to be during our first tour of duty there. In September, 1901, I tried to persuade General Hughes not to listen to their leaders when they came in to talk “surrender,” telling the General that we had not then whipped those people sufficiently to make them willing to behave themselves as American subjects. Nothing but more defeating and killing of their leaders would have properly pacified Cebu, and the island did not receive that chastisement, with the natural consequence. We soon saw the temper of the Cebu police; they were ready and quick to arrest an American soldier on the slightest pretence, and if the pretence were hard to find they proved that it was unnecessary, for the soldier would be arrested, confined and then informed that he had resisted arrest, and that a cash bond was needed for his future appearance for trial. Sometimes the poor soldier would produce the cash bond, and then, of course the matter would be dropped. As soon as I learned of such methods I ordered my men not to produce the cash bond, but, instead, to promptly inform their captain who was in the same order directed to represent the soldier as his lawyer and fight it out in court. On several occasions during the two years of our stay in Cebu, in person I repre- sented my men before the civil courts, and saw to it that they got at least a trial and that always resulted in an acquittal, because the police usually had no 472 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY case and were only trying to get a cash bond from the soldier. Any American, especially a stranger, was liable to the treatment described. We had an American Judge of the Court of First Instance, but from my acquaintance with him and from what I heard of him, I thought that the United States was very poorly represented in the Cebu judici- ary. That gentleman was not the only American judge in the islands who did not, in the opinion of the Army, measure up to the proper average. The celebrated Grafton case, settled in the U. S. Supreme Court several years prior to that date, had given an American Judge of the Court of First Instance an opportunity to overrule the acquittal of Private Grafton by a General Court Martial, and to impose, instead, practically a life imprisonment in Bilibid Prison, the old Manila Prison of the Spaniards. The Supreme Court decided that the poor devil had been sufficiently tried by the military authorities, and was therefore not liable or subject afterwards to trial by any other court deriving its jurisdiction from the same authority (the United States). In the Philippines the same authority — the United States — gives juris- diction to both Army Courts Martial and Philippine Courts of First Instance, therefore, a man once tried by either class of court for any offence is not subject to trial by the other for that same offence, and that authority, whether civil or military, which first estab- lished jurisdiction over any case, should be allowed to complete trial and punishment, or acquittal. In order to prevent so many arrests, and to inform my men as to their rights, I studied up the Grafton case, and then I issued the following order, which was passed upon — at my request — by the Judge Advocate A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 473 of the Division of the Philippines, and by him pro- nounced to be sound and correct in law. I had it published in Manila newspapers, and it did much good in the islands where the police were like those at Cebu. Warwick Barracks, Cebu, P. I. June 30, 1910. General Orders No. 34. In view of the too frequent instances of friction between the American soldier and the police of Cebu, it is considered necessary to inform the soldier as to his rights and his proper line of conduct. The following extract from the opinion of the Supreme Court of the United States in the case of Homer E. Grafton versus the United States, given May 27th, 1907, is of unusual importance to the soldier serving in these islands. “If, therefore, a person be tried for an offense in a tribunal deriving its jurisdiction and authority from the United States and is acquitted or convicted, he cannot again be tried for the same offense in another tribunal deriving its jurisdiction and authority from the United States.” This means that a soldier who may be tried before a military tribunal, or before a regular tribunal of these islands, cannot be tried for the same offense before the other tribunal. The authority which first begins legal process look- ing to trial has first claim on the soldier. To secure military control of the case the arrest or confinement of the accused by an officer or non- commissioned officer would be sufficient, the investi- gation and trial to follow in due course, under the decision given by the Judge Advocate General of the Army, August 13, 1908, and published in General Orders No. 10 of 1909, Philippines Division, “That (Court) which first assumes jurisdiction by the service 474 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY of process, is entitled to continue until final judgment and execution of sentence.” Therefore, in order to retain control over our own men, and to save them from civil arrest and confine- ment which will deprive the Government of their services as soldiers, it is made the duty of every officer and non-commissioned officer who sees, or is cognizant of a disturbance taking place between soldiers, or between soldiers and natives, to promptly arrest the soldier implicated and have him taken to the barracks, going in person with him to insure safe delivery of the soldier at barracks. The Command- ing Officer will then be notified without, delay as to what has happened, and the soldier will afterwards be tried before a military tribunal. The arrest of the soldier, the speaking of the words placing him in arrest, is sufficient to insure military control over the trial of his case, and he will not, after the arrest or speaking of the w T ords of arrest, be sur- rendered to any police or civil officers who may demand him. The officer or non-commissioned officer who shall have made this prior or first arrest of the soldier, will, on the attempt of the civil officer to take charge of the soldier in question, politely and firmly inform such officer that the military authorities have already assumed jurisdiction of the case, and will not surrender the soldier. The exercise of great coolness of judgment to be performed in all sobriety, is specially enjoined upon such officer, or non-commissioned officer. The case will be completed before our own military court, and much hardship will be saved the soldier, and his time will not be lost to the Government by the action of the civil authorities. This order will be kept posted on bulletin boards By order of Colonel Crane: (Signed) F. R. Brown, Captain & Adjutant 9th Infantry. Adjutant. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 475 Very soon the police of Cebu caught on to the idea of promptly establishing jurisdiction in a case, and they would sometimes claim to have been the first to make the arrest when such was not the truth, and on two oc- casions they insisted on having the soldier after being in- formed that he was already in confinement under mili- tary authority and that the necessary charges had been preferred. In both cases the men were not given up. The Philippines were still being governed chiefly under the old Spanish laws, supplemented by laws passed by U. S. Commissioners at Manila, and no amount of search among the old Spanish laws could discover any circumstances justifying a man in killing another. No such justification as “self-defence” was recognized by them. And there was no such thing as “burglary,” justifying the owner, or dweller in a house in physically injuring a burglar. According to Spanish law the man who had entered one’s house was punish- able only for what he had already laid hands on in theft. He was to be treated simply as a thief, and was held to be punishable only in proportion to the amount, or value of the property in his possession when caught. And burglary became too common in Cebu, where the houses are so open as to make burglary, as we understand the meaning of the word, very easy. One or two instances of fact will illustrate better; the sto- ries are given as I heard them. In the middle of the night a man was waked up by his own chickens, in his own yard. With his small calibre rifle he stepped to the open window and listened, and having accurately located the noise he fired at it. The thief, an old native woman, was wounded in the jaw, and the man was sentenced to confinement in Bilibid for several years. 476 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY On another occasion, an old Filipino discovered two thieves in the act of driving off two of his carabaos. Naturally he tried to make them leave his animals, and finding peaceful methods without result he used a club, and in doing so he killed one of the thieves, and drove off the other. The man wdio protected his own property so well was sentenced to many years in Bilibid. With hostile police, thieving neighbors, and laws which did not protect, our only refuge was the Grafton case and the chance of getting the unfortunate American promptly confined under military guard, to be followed up by prompt trial before a military court. Therefore I published another order, urging each man in the military service who had any trouble with natives, or with the civil authorities, to hurry and deliver himself up to the military authority, so as to get the benefit of trial by a military court, an American court. In my order I alluded to the queer old Spanish laws mentioned. As long as we remained in Cebu we had trouble with the civil authorities as represented by the native police and native justices of the peace. But, the British, the Chinese and the Spanish were always nice to us, especially the first two named. When the British gave an entertainment, our people were sure to be invited, and we always enjoyed ourselves. The Chinese and Spanish also invited us to their enter- tainments and gave us an enjoyable time. We had not been long at Cebu before the Division and Department Commanders paid us a visit, and they arrived the same morning, to our great discom- fort and annoyance. However, the Department Com- mander took a back seat and gave us little trouble, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 477 leaving us to the tender mercies of the Division Com- mander who seemed to imagine himself still a cadet corporal inspecting a “plebe” relief of the guard. The condition of the barracks as regarded cleanliness attracted little of his attention, but hooks and eyes, buttons and long hair came in for close inspection and sure condemnation. Before he left, a squad of nine soldiers reported at my quarters to the Division Commander with the shortest and quickest hair cuts that I have ever seen on soldiers’ heads. Only the clipper had been used. I telegraphed over to Camp Downs, Leyte, to warn our people there to beware of close inspection for missing and unhooked hooks, missing and unbuttoned buttons, and long hair. Thus warned, the garrison at Camp Downs escaped some of our misfortunes, but they too had to entertain at the same time both Division and Department Commanders. During our first summer at Cebu, in August, the Sec- retary of War, Jacob McG. Dickinson, visited our post on a trip of inspection around the islands. He arrived just one day after the coming of the Division Inspector who was also on his annual tour of inspection. These two formidable officials inspected us on the same days, yet independent of each other, and it made it very difficult for us to present our best side to the inspector who was really the man to please and be afraid of, for he submitted a careful and critical report, as we dis- covered, later on. The weather was hot, and one appearance was enough to make the khaki clothing of the soldier unpresentable for the Inspector a few hours later, and some of our men did not have a sufficient number of changes of uniform to be able to appear each time in fresh clothing. This was the 478 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY only inspection of the 9th Infantry during my colo- nelcy of it when we did not receive nice commenda- tions from the inspector, and it was easily because of the presence of the Secretary of War at the same time. Before the Secretary left he was given a great ban- quet by the Chinese merchants of Cebu, and our friend See-Sip was their orator for the occasion. I took Mrs. Crane with me to the banquet, and next day we remembered it, because of the queer dishes that Chinese love, such as birds’ nests soup and unhatched pigeons’ eggs. As commanding officer I had given the Secretary our best military reception, but we had to do that sort of thing for each department and division com- mander that came along, and my wife became quite expert at getting up the necessary refreshments. So, our reception for Secretary Dickinson was just like many others that we gave during my colonelcy of the 9th Infantry. Cebu was in many respects a very desirable station. The best fruits grew there, and fish and vegetables were very abundant. The finest mangos in the Philip- pines, and best papayas grew all around the city. It was also the island longest inhabited by the Span- iards, and for that reason game was very scarce for lack of cover. But there was sometimes good snipe shooting near the town, and on several occasions I had to go only a mile or two for bags of between 20 and 30 of these fine birds. Snipe shooting in open country and not too much water is certainly delightful sport, and my two years at Cebu were made more endurable by the many hunts I enjoyed there, without going more than five miles from my quarters. Wei- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 479 born, Lewis and Whitson were my hunting companions when we went for snipe, but I hunted with Lewis more than with the others. While out snipe hunting I sometimes flushed the tiny quail of the islands, which I have seen nowhere else, and I had good luck in bringing down the little fellows, for they are no larger than sparrows. But the whir-r-r of their wings was a dead give-away of their identity, giving me also a good opportunity to shoot. Curlews were also to be found in the vicinity of Cebu, and several varieties of pigeons, but they were hard to find. One of the wild pigeons had a yellow body and greenish neck, and another had the long tail of the passenger pigeon, and uniform coloring of dark maroon. The maroon colored pigeon was the only long tailed one that I ever saw, except the passenger pigeon and the turtle dove. The latter is not to be found in the Philippines. The troops stationed at Camp Downs had good duck and wild hog hunting, and better snipe hunting than we did at Cebu. But I had no opportunity to do any hunting outside of Cebu. The test ride in the islands was only for 20 miles, for three days and at the same rate of speed as was required in the United States. I had Lieut. Lewis measure off five miles along the best road leading out from Cebu, and in December, 1910, with Lieut. Col. C. E. Woodruff, M. C., and Major Waldo E. Ayer, 9th Infantry, I had my first test ride from Cebu. I had quite a difficulty in persuading the two young medical officers on the examining board to allow me to ride it. On the preliminary examination they claimed to have found something unusual about my heart action, but after my explanation that another 480 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY examination could be made after the riding of the first ten miles they consented to allow me to ride. The examination after the completion of the first ten miles showed me in better condition, as stated by the young surgeons, so I continued the ride. At the end of the three days’ ride my physical condition was pronounced to be still better. I had improved daily and steadily. But, noticing that the report of the test rides did not arrive at my office promptly I made a social call on the young surgeons on the night of the third day. I was greeted on entering their room with, “Glad to see you; you are the very man we wanted to see.” I understood their trouble, and without trying to beat about the bush I asked, “Is it something about the test ride?” “Yes,” they replied, “and we want you to resolve our doubts.” Finding that their doubts were as to my ability to stand field service, I explained to them the difference between the physical requirements in field service for a lieutenant and for a colonel, and I informed them of my daily rides of about six miles before breakfast, and of my hunting once a week, besides. After much talking about myself I had to similarly explain regarding Col. Woodruff, and after a most humiliating experience of arguing for an hour with two young lieutenants of the Medical Corps, I was finally given to understand that the reports would be satisfactory. Accordingtotheir reports, which were sub- mitted next morning, we were both allowed to continue performing our duty without the action of a retiring board. In their report on me was the entry, according to my recollection “Incipient arterio sclerosis.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 481 My daily life at Cebu for two years began with my rising at about 5.30 a.m., riding from four to seven miles, sometimes ten, then a bath followed by break- fast at 8 a.m. I was always hungrier for breakfast than for any other meal, and I enjoyed most what I ate then. All this I had to explain to those boys in order to be allowed to remain on the active list a little while longer. We lived well at Cebu. Through the Commissary we obtained good refrigerated beef and mutton from Australia, and oranges, lemons, apples and grape fruit from the United States. We had the mango for about ten months each year, having that fruit eleven months one year. We had bananas and papayas all the time. While cocoanuts were abundant all the time we never ate one, but when out in the field, or on the road, and hot, tired and thirsty, no drink was so refreshing as that of the nearly grown cocoanut, taken from the fruit itself, without waiting to pour the water into a tumbler. At 9 a.m. I went to my office and remained there till 12, mid-day, and I returned there about 4 p.m. for a couple of hours, and sometimes longer, to com- plete the paper work of the day, it being my invariable rule to leave no official paper work for the following day. Frequently my afternoon office hours were very necessary for the settling of cases arising suddenly with the natives and police. As a rule officers wore their white uniforms in the afternoons and at night, especially at entertainments. At night we usually remained at home, if not invited out somewhere, and we made it a point to have, once a year, each officer and lady dine with us. This prac- tice we continued till retirement from active service. 482 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY with all who were in the post long enough to enable us to carry out our intention. The receptions which we gave to department commanders and other gener- als, also those which I gave as Commanding officer on each New Year’s Day, complete our contribution to the social life of the garrison wherever we hap- pened to be. Cebu was the second city in size in all the Philip- pines, counting Ilo Ilo, Molo and Jaro as separate cities, and it was beyond doubt the second in shipping, being the greatest hemp center in the Philippines. Doubtless, being such a commercial city Cebu was constantly visited by our inter-island steamers in their trips from Manila to the southern islands of the archipelago, and thus was visited by a great many army people, both because of the trip and because they frequently could not avoid it. In this way we saw, while at Cebu, many of our army friends, renewing sometimes old friendships, and in other cases begin- ning new ones. Many strangers hunted up the monu- ment of Magallanes, or Magellan, on the island of Mactan immediately in front of the city, where the old time “conquistador” fell in battle, and others looked for the small building which marked the spot where Magallanes was said to have held the first mass in the Philippines. For the purpose of evening up the camp duty at the target range and to do the required amount of target practice, no organizations were made to stay in camp more than two months. It was cooler there. In January, 1911, the U. S. Transport Warren came to Cebu and Camp Downs and Ilo Ilo, and picked up nine companies of the regiment for an expedition against the island of Guimaras, on one of our field A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 483 maneuvers. One company was left at each of the three posts, and we steamed through the strait, or channel separating Guimaras from Panay. En route, while inspecting the transport I saw my old time Chinese cook Lao in the pie room. The recognition was mutual, also the pleasure at meeting. Lao had seen all the Asiatic ports as cook on various ships. We were some miles beyond the strait when, at the appointed hour, 9 p.m., I opened my sealed orders and learned that I was to land on the island of Gui- maras at least fifteen miles from the Army post on that island, Camp Jossman, and then proceed against the garrison of that post. Prior to going on that trip I was allowed to send an officer on a two or three days’ reconnaissance of the island, so as to ascertain the different landing places, and the trails leading from them towards Camp Jossman. From that hurried reconnaissance, made by Second Lieutenant Russell James, I learned that there were three places where I could land and march inland. The nearest and most convenient of the three was just fifteen miles from Camp Jossman and located on the side facing Panay. The next in going around the far end of the island was at its farthest extremity, at a spot called Igdaropdop. The third possible landing place was on the opposite side from Panay, and located about fifteen miles from Jossman. The third landing place had no known trails leading in the direc- tion of the post, while both the others had bold trails, often used. The first mentioned landing place was so closely connected with Camp Jossman and so well known that I was confident that my opponent would give it special attention. It was so near to Jossman that I thought 484 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY it possible, not knowing the “Special Situation” given to him, that he might have time to put his men in good position near the landing place itself. I therefore selected the farthest of the three landing places for my landing point, and I have had no reason to doubt the soundness of my judgment in doing so. Having to go in close to the island, at a point so little known, except from the ship’s charts which leave many things to the imagination, I believed it impossible, at least inadvisable, to attempt a night disembarkation of troops, animals and supplies. I contented myself with having the Warren go in as close to the shore as we dared, and then waited for very early morning. During the night we drifted many miles, and early in the morning it required about two hours to get us to our landing point about four hundred yards from the shore. We had quite a large, flat barge to put our animals on, after using it in landing our men and baggage. The barge could not get in close enough to enable horses to get ashore without swimming, so the animals had to be pushed off and made to swim for it. Under the rules of the maneuver furnished us, all advance movements had to end at 12, mid-day, at which moment each side was allowed to consolidate positions won prior to that hour. The island was covered with dense tropical growth of timber, bushes and foliage, and a rough ridge about one hundred feet high ran parallel to the water, and several hundred yards from it in the vicinity of our landing place. Therefore it was necessary to land and get to a camp- ing place before 12 o’clock, and to have our men on high ground commanding the camp. Landing was slow work, and finally I had to hurry ashore after 11 o’clock, saddle up, and gallop off with Lieut. James A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 485 and five or six mounted orderlies, to find the place the Lieutenant had marked for our first camp, about two miles away. We found the spot, and five minutes before 12 o’clock I had my outpost located on a high point commanding the approach to our camp from the inland. Then we waited an hour or two for the men to come on and pitch camp. We were 28 or 29 miles from Camp Jossman, and I was sure that the troops of the garrison were somewhere between Jossman and the convenient landing place facing the island of Panay, and in a good position for defence against an enemy attempting a landing near them. About the middle of the island of Guimaras there are some high hills, which appeared to us to be com- paratively clear and open. The road from my camp to where I believed the enemy to be led through dense and difficult country, but the road, or series of trails from my camp to Jossman, passing on the other side of the hills from my estimated location of the enemy, was across a comparatively open country, where we could see some distance ahead and could select at will our line of march, and even our place to fight, and make the enemy come to us. For those reasons I did not go straight at the enemy, but instead, I pushed on by trails and some- times without a trail across country which we found to be as represented by Lieut. James, and reached a small village near the center of the island where we drove off some mounted scouts of the other side, and lost much time in doing so, and still more in looking for the right trail to follow on towards Jossman. We had to go into camp there because 12 o’clock would have caught us at some spot where we could 486 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY not have made a good camp. We had a fine camping place, and there, as at the previous camp, we took all the necessary precautions relative to outposts, etc. Early that night the “observer” from the other side walked into my camp, thus showing that I had located his camp pretty well. He came from that direction. After he had consulted with the “observer” who travelled with us, we were given another “special situation,” one which required us to march straight towards the best landing place and “pursue the retreating enemy,” thus showing again that we had correctly located the opposing troops and their pur- pose. Next morning we took up the trail indicated by the observers, and we found the enemy exactly where our map showed they ought to be, and we had a nice little battle there. We had our 20 mounted scouts, commanded by Lieut. James, well out to the front, and our march led through some very pretty country, the long col- umn moving just as we had learned to move and march in the Philippines jungle. It was very realistic, but I hope that I may never have to fight an enter- prising enemy under any such conditions. We found them, with hastily made shelter trenches, blocking the way, their left resting on foot hills which rapidly rose to higher elevations, and their right flank resting on impenetrable jungle. Major C. R. Noyes handled beautifully his battalion in the lead. I had divided the nine companies of my force into three equal battalions, so that Noyes had only three companies. He had two companies in the firing line, and the third one acting as support or reserve a short distance to the rear. His people made lots of noise with their blank cartridges, only two A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 487 companies firing. The enemy remained on the defensive while I was moving at the head of six com- panies off to our right so as to get well around the enemy’s left flank for the purpose of attacking his left and rear from higher ground. When I had arrived opposite his left flank and could see something of his arrangements on that flank, I heard the “recall” sounded from the other side where the Chief Umpire was. We were moving well concealed by the rough ground and dense jungle, and, so far as I ever heard, our march was not perceived by the enemy. When I heard the “recall” I halted the column and hastily returned to the trail to learn why it had been sounded. The Chief Umpire informed me that the recall had been sounded because it was useless for me to proceed any further, for the reason that I had all my men engaged, in one frontal attack on an intrenched enemy, well posted. I told the Chief Umpire that I had only two companies in the firing line, one com- pany of that battalion being held back in reserve, and that with my main body of six companies I had started, and was at least two hundred yards from the trail, moving out of sight of the enemy, and in direc- tion so as to envelope his left flank and rear. I believed then, and I still believe, that the scheme was to have me march straight at the Camp Jossman garrison, located in a carefully selected spot, and, by getting my command beaten, show how the Japanese would fare in case they should attempt a landing there. I was not ordered to do that, and I chose exactly the proper line of march, and proceeded to win out, as in actual war. I had clearly the advantage when the new “special situation” was given me The leader of 488 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY the other side told me that he did not, of his own preference, choose the plan he followed, but that he expressed the wish to await my attack somewhere near the center of the island, expecting me to land where he could not prevent and then to seek the open country before attacking him. He was made to do as the other fellow wished. That incident proved how our umpires can sometimes be badly mistaken. The balance of that maneuver was, to go and join the Jossman people and next day march back to the dock which the Jossman people used all the time in their travelling to and from Ilo Ilo, to board the War- ren and return home. During that very interesting field problem, I rode, or walked, as the occasion required, and I ate the regular camp fare. In my own camp mess I had my adjutant, quartermaster, and my surgeon who hap- pened to be one of the two who had recently examined me and had made up their minds that I was hardly fit for field service. At several meals I jokingly remarked about our fare and requested the surgeon to note my appetite, and what I was eating, also how I was getting on as regarded ability to stand the work. Riding and field work always had agreed with me, and that maneuver furnished no exception to the rule, I rode my good horse Warwick, a dark bay, or light brown gelding which I had bought from the Govern- ment. He was a very intelligent animal, strong, obstinate and big boned, built more for draft purposes than for work under saddle. Early in November, 1910, I was temporary depart- ment commander for a week or two, and I went over to Ilo Ho to act in that capacity, and I stayed while there with my Lieut. Col. Abner Pickering. At Ilo Ilo A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 489 I found and met again Julio Buenaflor, who was my guide in the Dumangas swamps in 1901, and after- wards an officer of Philippine Scouts, to which posi- tion I helped him with a strong recommendation. I saw again Felipe Gomez, who was the interpreter of both military commissions, of which I was the senior member, both courts running at the same time. During my absence in Ilo Ilo that time all the southern islands were more or less damaged by an awful typhoon, the island of Leyte being specially hard hit. The post of Camp Downs was almost destroyed. The storm was more severe in Panay than on the island of Cebu, but it was bad enough there, too. These storms come every year to some islands, and on account of them the important post at Tacloban had to be abandoned by the Army. In April, 1911, I was temporary department com- mander for about a month, and because of the length of the duty I took Mrs. Crane with me, also my best muchacho, Pascual, and we rented the old Gay resi- dence, which had been used as officers’ quarters by various department commanders in the past. There were good drives out to Molo and to Jaro, and beyond both places, also good roads connecting those towns, and we enjoyed very much the use of the official carriage and the big saddle horse of the department commander. I kept up my regular habits, never missing a day from my horseback riding, nor from our driving in that official carriage. We found the jusi and abaca cloths just as fascinating as of old, and the man- gos and papayas of Panay were almost as good as those of Cebu. We enjoyed also the stores and shops of Ilo Ilo, some of which belonged to the 490 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY same big firms that were located at Cebu. After several weeks the new department commander, my former colonel of the 38th Vols., then Brigadier Gen- eral George S. Anderson, came along and stopped with us in the Gay house. We gave a nice recep- tion for him, just as we gave for every general officer and secretary of war that visited us. This time we had only half our china with us, and prac- tically no furniture except what we found in the house, but with the friendly assistance of the de- partment staff ladies Mrs. Crane managed to get together some nice refreshments, and the reception was quite a success. It was a great pleasure to meet General Anderson again. He was one of the best known and best liked officers in the service. We had gone over to Ilo Ilo in the small steamer used specially by the department commander, and we returned by the same transportation to Cebu, feeling much rested by the change of scene and duties. But, our best muchacho, Pascual, was never worth much afterwards. It turned his head to travel, as he thought, on the private steamer of his employer, and, worse than that, he found a woman in Ilo Ilo to help him spend his money. She followed him to Cebu. Mrs. Crane and I had always intended to visit China and Japan during*that, my last tour of duty in the islands because of my being so near the retirement age limit, so we started in November, 1911, by way of Manila and Hong Kong. We went to Manila on one of the inter-island small steamers, stopped there one day and then got passage on the big Empress liner Manchuria, next largest steamer in the Pacific Ocean at that time. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 491 Col. A. C. Ducat and his wife, old time friends of mine from the 24th Infantry, were also passengers, in addition to Mrs. W. K. Naylor and her little daughter. The Ducats were returning to the United States by way of Europe, and they parted from us at Hong Kong. The Naylors were our companions many times before they left us at Yokohama, on their road to the United States. From inquiry while on the Manchuria we were told of the Astor House being one of the best, and at the same time very reasonable in price. On entering the building I thought there was something strangely familiar in the appearance of the inside of it, so much so that I could not refrain from asking if the hotel had not once been called “The Connaught House,” where I had stayed a week in October, 1901. I found that it was the same house, only under a different name and management. We soon discovered that the change of name and management had not damaged the hotel as regarded efficiency. One of our purposes was to collect in China and Japan some beautiful shawls, mandarin coats, kimo- nos, etc., and we began our search in Hong Kong. We found some beautiful things there. We did not go to Canton for the reason that the Chinese Revolution was in full blast, and it was considered dangerous travelling up the river on which Canton is situated. Of course there was no sign of the revolution in Hong Kong, for that is practically an English city, in spite of the overwhelming Chinese population there. We stopped in that wonderful city until another fine steamer came along and took us away. While in Hong Kong, one night I went with Capt. Nicklin, 9th Inf. to see a contest between a Japanese 492 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY wrestler and an Australian boxer. The latter used big boxing gloves, and the wrestler was forbidden to use the most effective methods in jiu-jitsu. The boxer weighed about 165 pounds, and the wrestler about ten pounds lighter, and they were given the customary three minute rounds and one minute rests. It took nine rounds to settle the match, the Japanese being groggy and unable to do any more, but I considered that jiu-jitsu had won the match. Although debarred from using his best holds the wrestler had thrown the boxer twice, thus having him at his mercy in a real fight. Our steamer stopped a few hours off the mouth of the big river that runs by Shanghai. Shanghai is thirteen miles from the mouth of the river, which is a very muddy stream, and the salt water for many miles is also muddy. It was cold and rainy, and the change of temperature after leaving Hong Kong had given me a bad cold which kept me aboard the Man- churia that Thanksgiving Day in 1911. Aboard the ship we had one of the nicest and pleasantest Thanks- giving dinners that I ever saw. The inevitable turkey for an American Thanksgiving dinner, lots of them, and many other good dishes were on hand and beautifully served. The ship’s company had gone to great trouble and expense, and the result was all that could have been desired. That repast stands out in my memory, and with nothing disagreeable connected with it. There was quite a good Filipino band on the ship, and they tried hard to give us up-to-date music. I was at that time reading Murdock’s History of Japan, and while reading about the Battle of Sekiga- hara I was much impressed by the favorite piece A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 493 played by the band. The music seemed to me to be sad and solemn, though very sweet, and it chimed in perfectly with my feelings while reading of the result of the greatest battle in Japanese history, deciding as it did the future of Japan for hundreds of years. I wanted the other side to win, and the sad music on the Manchuria gave vent to my feelings. It was months before I ascertained the name of the pretty music, and, judge of my surprise when I learned that it was the special waltz in the comic opera “Madame Sherry,” telling how “every little motion has its meaning,” etc. At Nagasaki we went ashore for the usual “look see,” and bought some few things in tortoise shell work, for which that city is celebrated. That time I had, before leaving Cebu, obtained a letter of credit for a certain amount from “The International Bank- ing Corporation,” an American company which had already established branch houses in nearly all the big sea coast cities in that part of the Orient. At Kobe we went ashore with Mrs. Naylor and her little Margaret, and we hunted up the best places to buy mandarin coats and cloisonne dishes, and after buying what we could afford to, we went to the Pleasanton Hotel for dinner. The hotel was small, and was kept by an American. We left the ship at Yokohama, and the Naylors went on to God’s Coun- try. At Yokohama we stopped at another “ Pleasanton Hotel,” a very nice one, and kept by another American. After discussing our plans, where to go and how long to stay there, my wife and I decided to make that nice Pleasanton Hotel our headquarters, leave our heavy baggage there, go off on short trips, and after each trip return to our hotel in Yokohama. That is 494 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY what we did, and we had good reason to applaud our judgment. Of course Mrs. Crane wanted to test the truth of statements she had heard about very cheap, yet very fine silk dresses obtainable in Yokohama, and I had some small curiosity to investigate tailors, both for civilian and for uniform clothing. We satisfied all our wishes, within less than three blocks from the Pleasanton Hotel. I had the good luck to find an excellent Chinese tailor who made for me, in a very short time, a suit of olive drab woolen uniform cloth- ing, and another who made me a civilian overcoat, all at very reasonable prices. My wife found a Chinese tailor, named K. Tom, who made her a beautiful satin dress, profusely embroidered, the cloth being dyed to match a selected sample, all done in 48 hours, including the dying of the cloth and one “try on” fitting to show the need of corrections. That dress was a beauty, and gave great satisfaction for many months. After three days in Yokohama we went to Myano- shita, a fashionable resort in the mountains, con- sisting of hot baths, a fine hotel, excellent eating, and beautiful scenery, all about 40 miles from Yokohama, 20 by rail, 15 by trolley and 5 by ’ricksha. I never saw hotels in any other part of the world so kind, careful, prompt and considerate as those I saw in half a dozen places in Japan, including what I saw in my first visit to Japan. In a very few minutes after arrival we had a fire in our room, and hot tea and cake, and something like it was being done constantly for us without any request from us. We were eleven days at Myanoshita, and for one day we were the only guests, so far as we could see. That was because of the time of year. A few days A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 495 after our departure there were lots of people there. The fare was fine, the scenery beautiful and service excellent. I climbed the mountains twice a day for an hour or two, and as a consequence I enjoyed each meal heartily. Our stay at that hotel was very pleas- ant. Before starting on our return trip to Yokohama I telegraphed to the Pleasanton Hotel that we would arrive on such a train, giving the hour of arrival, and we found a warm coal fire in our room, and everything ready for us. We spent the next three days looking about Yoko- hama, and investigating the very interesting shops, and of course making more purchases. Then we left for old Kyoto, the old time capital of Japan and the center of her history. There, too, we were greatly impressed by the nice hotel we stopped at, the “Kyoto,” in the center of the city. We were there Christmas Eve, and saw more Xmas signs than are usually visible in an American city. A banquet was given by the hotel management to its steady, old friends and patrons in the city, and a large proportion of them were foreigners. Old Kyoto is in the center of a broad valley, and, besides its historic interest it is noted for turning out fine cloisonne and satsuma wares, silk shawls and mandarin coats, all articles that are much sought after by our American ladies. We visited some of the objects of historic interest in and close to the city. We saw old Hideyoshi’s bell, also the palace he lived in. The thing that impressed me most was the elab- orate Christmas preparations. After three days in Kyoto we returned to Yokohama, and on our train we had an opportunity to observe the Japanese wrestlers. There were several of them on the train, 496 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY going to Tokyo to attend some wrestling matches soon to take place there, and they had, apparently, many friends at the towns en route, judging by the number of people that boarded the train to see them. Two of those wrestlers were at least six feet tall, and weighed about 240 pounds each, and they were busy most of the time eating fruit, of which they had great quan- tities. We had only six days remaining, on returning to Yokohama, and we concluded to spend half of it at Tokyo, and the last half at Yokohama, at our very comfortable hotel, the Pleasanton. We stopped at the biggest hotel in Tokyo, and it was the least com- fortable one that we saw in Japan. We went out in ’rickshas to observe New Year’s Day in front of the Mikado’s palace, taking our place with many others just outside of the enclosure, which was bounded by a broad ditch dug in old times, as part of the palace’s fortifications. We saw the various people who were privileged to make a New Year’s call, cross the bridge and enter the palace grounds, and we remained in place long enough to see most of them return. We called on our ambassador in Tokyo, and were rewarded for our courtesy by an invitation to lunch, which we enjoyed very much. While talking with the ambassador about the expenses of keeping up his office I spoke of the recent appropriation by Congress to assist our representatives abroad and I was told that the amount allotted was only a drop in the bucket. Evidently he had not moved out of his former quar- ters since the money was appropriated, and part of the house was used as offices, and the balance as residence. I noticed in Yokohama how our consular buildings compared unfavorably with those of other great A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 497 nations, and in Tokyo the comparison was not dis- turbed, being just as much against us. In Japan we noticed how the daily English news- papers would, a week or two ahead of time of arrival of a big ship from the United States, publish a list containing the names of all the passengers, date of arrival of ship, and length of stay at each port to be stopped at. We saw it happen several times, and we noticed how the prices would rise on the days when those ships were in harbor, but that last peculiarity we had already noticed at Cebu. While the big ship Minnesota was at Yokohama during the first week of January, 1912, I was out on the street and was mis- taken more than once for a passenger on that ship. Getting a little impatient I would finally say, “ I don’t belong on that boat. I have been here a month.” Then the Japs would laugh and leave me. While at Hong Kong, and again at Yokohama I sent to the United States some of the articles I had bought. In Hong Kong I used the Wells Fargo Express, and in Yokohama I registered the package, and sent it by mail, or as parcel post. We saw very few soldiers during our stay in Japan, and there was nothing strange in the appearance of those that we did see, or in their conduct. We were treated with consideration everywhere we went. I registered at each hotel as “Colonel C. J. Crane, U. S. Army,” and my trunk showed just as plainly who I was, and I did not see that I attracted any unusual at- tention, or desire to know what I was there for. Of course they wanted my money, but they were always decent and polite about it. United States money seemed at a premium, whether gold, silver or paper, or even a check on a big bank. 498 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I was treated differently in Chicago in the fall of 1907 when I had to get Howard H. Hoyt to use his influence with James Forgan, the great banker, to get my pay check cashed at Forgan’s bank. It was a government check, signed by an Army paymaster. I was glad to see how in Japan the banks and big companies were glad to cash my different letters of credit, also to see how glad the merchants were to receive any American money, of any kind. The Japan- ese yen was worth just half our dollar, like the Filipino dollar in that respect, Conant dollar they call it. At all Japanese big stores it made no difference whether they were paid in dollars, or in yens. I usually had some small change in Japanese money, to use in the purchase of fruit and other small articles. I wanted to read of real Japan, written by real Japs, and therefore I tried to find some translations of Japanese novels, poems and histories. I found a weak sample of a novel, not the work of a Japanese, also the “Life of Hideyoshi,” another doubtful speci- men but containing much interesting information. The fine book of Griffis’, “The Mikado’s Empire,” is not full enough. The Japanese deserve more atten- tion from us, they and their language, aspirations and customs. To me their words seemed easier to catch, and learn to understand and remember than any I had heard of the various Filipino dialects. The Japanese use the wooden shoe frequently, with no top, and nothing but crossed straps to hold them on, also corn shuck soles attached to the foot by the same kind of crossed straps. The woman’s stocking reaches a very little above the ankle and the kimono just about makes connection with the stocking. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 499 The Japanese resemble the Filipinos in so many ways that I must believe that they were both origi- nally of the great Malay family far south of them. I believe that they wandered along the eastern coast of Asia till they reached the islands now inhabited by the Japanese, some of them stopping in the Philip- pines. In appearance the two peoples are so much alike that, if dressed exactly alike it would be almost impossible to distinguish one from the other. And their mental and moral peculiarities are just as much alike. At Kelly and Walsh’s big book store in Yokohama I found a very quaint, queer little book, which, in Japanese hands, has greatly influenced the course of the events described in Japanese histories. The book I saw is a translation of a Chinese book which was written prior to 400 b.c., and contains the teachings of the two great Chinese generals Wu and Sun. I bought that translation of “The Book of War,” and I have enjoyed very much the reading of it. Consid- ering the date it was written, the book was concen- trated wisdom regarding war. Apparently, the Chinese have forgotten the teachings of that best early description of how war should be waged, but the Japanese are said to have been studying and practicing its lessons for hundreds of years during their many civil wars. Any one going to Japan for a short visit, as we did, would do well, as we did, to make headquarters at Yokohama, and from that place pay short visits to the most interesting places, going for such purpose even as far as Kobe. The chestnut seemed to be their favorite nut, and a very large persimmon their favorite fruit, better than their apple. That big persimmon has no pucker 500 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY to it when half ripe, as ours have. I ate lots of half ripe ones there, peeling the fruit as apples are peeled. Having stayed our last three days in Yokohama after returning from Tokyo, my wife and I took pass- age on the steamer Mongolia for Manila, where we had to remain five or six days before we could catch a boat for Cebu. We reached our post greatly bene- fited in health and spirits, and we brought back with us many interesting souvenirs, from Hong Kong and the cities of Japan. Very soon after arriving at Cebu, in January, 1912, we had another test ride, in which Lieut. Col. Paxton and Majors Bookmiller and Jarvis joined me. We were all infantrymen. The ride was easy, none of us feeling greatly fatigued, or hurt by the ride. I told the examining surgeon about my last test ride and the report made on me then, and I was informed by him that if that diagnosis had been correct I could not have made my last ride as I did. I believed so, myself, and I still think so. During the spring of 1912 the regiment was con- centrated at Cebu for a field maneuver and the annual inspection. A most interesting field problem was worked out, and some good mountain climbing and marching was done by us during our field exercise. I was glad to see that I could still climb a mountain, not so well, nor so fast as I did it years before, but as well as the average man did it during that march. Major Bookmiller again showed himself the fine officer that he always was, handling his command beautifully. At the end of the field work the regiment was inspected while still in camp; indeed, the whole business was an inspection. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 501 About that time our home papers were full of descriptions of troubles in Mexico, which seemed to be of such a nature as to call for us to administer a good thrashing to that country. I still think that the whipping should have been given at that time, and I was anxious to get back to God’s Country and take a part in the invasion, for I had promised myself, long ago, that I would be a charter member of the “Aztec Club No. 2,” which some day will be organized in the halls of the Montezumas. It seemed that luck was, once more, coming my way, for we were ordered home, to sail from Manila early in June, 1912. All of us looked forward to going into Mexico soon, and we were impatient to go there, and we felt sorry for our comrades in China and the Philippines. But we were to see a little more of our “Little brown brother” before leaving Cebu. As a climax to the series of petty annoyances caused us by the native police, several weeks before we left Cebu some of my men one night threw dice for the drinks, in a nearby saloon. It so happened that each man paid 25 cents for his throw, and took a drink, or a cigar or two, at his option, and the winner pocket- ed the balance. That fact constituted a technical violation of a city ordinance against gambling, and the police quickly appeared and arrested some of them. A sergeant and a corporal were taken to the calaboose, where the Chief of Police soon appeared, with his brain somewhat addled by drink. He called for handcuffs, and when they were brought the sergeant coolly held out his hands and received the irons, and the corporal followed his example. All this without the offer of the slightest resistance b\f my men. Not even a protest was made. My men dis- 502 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY played the finest sort of discipline, and remained in confinement all night. Again I made a report to Manila about the Cebu police, and that time there was an answer such as I liked. A new division commander had arrived some months before, and he had several times visited us, showing a wide awake interest in our post affairs. Through General Bell’s efforts in Manila the Cebu Chief of Police was ordered to be investigated by the native fiscal at Cebu, named Borromeo, and I had the opportunity to produce against the police, their chief and the people of Cebu, all my complaints, and I did so. For eight days, with a Spanish lawyer as counsel for the Chief of Police, I acted as prosecutor, and some- times as witness. We had a stenographer and an interpreter, and we were busy. For the first four days I had Lieut. Robert Adams assisting me, and for the remaining half Lieut. Lewis helped me. The Fiscal, prosecuting attorney for the government and acting as judge in that case, was really a friend to the other side, and I had to insist several times on getting my evidence on record. Finally, the evidence being all in, the case was finished. I suggested that we still had our arguments to present. After expressing some surprise, and after exchanging some talk in Spanish with the Spanish lawyer, the Fiscal announced that I should present my argument the next day, and the defence submit theirs the day following mine. I agreed, but claimed the right to reply to the law- yer’s speech, and that caused all the Spanish speaking people there to protest, all at the same time, and the Fiscal expressed the opinion that I had no right to reply to the lawyer’s argument for the defence. I A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 503 insisted that I had the right to both the opening and the closing speech for the government, and I won out, after which we adjourned. As I had my first speech already written, I had no trouble in getting ready, so I sent in my argument early the next morn- ing. The morning following the receipt of my argu- ment the Fiscal telephoned me that he had given the defence two more days in which to prepare their argument. When that day arrived he telephoned me again, saying that there would be no argument pre- sented by the defence. By that time I had my second speech written, closing the prosecution. I sent the original to the Fiscal, and at the same time I sent to the Division Commander copies of both arguments. In those arguments I gave a full and complete history of my case against the Chief of Police and the people of Cebu. The General again interested himself in our behalf, and the result was that, a few days later, when we were leaving Cebu, we were informed officially that the Chief of Police had been dismissed from office, and debarred for five years from holding office in the islands. During all that time at Cebu, under most trying circumstances, being continually annoyed by the Cebu police, my men of the 9th Infantry had behaved with wonderful forbearance, leaving the case entirely in my hands, for which I was most gratefully appreciative. Twice while we were at Cebu the troops prevented the town from being destroyed by fire. We turned out promptly, and taking hold of the situation instantly, also of the fire engine, we put out the fire, in each case saving the business part of the town from being burned down. In one of those fires we saved 504 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY some of the property belonging to the two big English firms, “Chartered Bank of India, Australia and China” and the “McLeod Steamship Co.” Both of those firms presented the regiment with nice silver souvenirs, thus showing their high appreciation of the services rendered them by the 9th Infantry. Before leaving Cebu for Manila on June 5, 1912, I issued the same kind of orders which had carried us across the Western Continent and the Pacific Ocean without the loss of a man. I was very desirous of duplicating that achievement, but one of my men was slow bidding his Filipina girl goodbye, and as a consequence he got left at Cebu. While we were waiting at Ormoc, Leyte (Camp Downs), for the right hour to leave that port, a soldier dropped down into the water from the ship about 9 p.m., and swam away in plain view of us all. The transport was at anchor at least half a mile from shore, but the man made it safely, according to later information. During the time the fellow was swimming around the ship it was quite a while before his intentions were under- stood, and then it was too late except to have some expert rifleman shoot him, and I did not think that the occasion called for that. The soldier was after- wards caught and punished by sentence of Court Martial, like his comrade who got left at Cebu. The same good ship Warren took us to Manila, via Ormoc and Ilo Ilo, at which places we were joined by the other parts of the 9th Infantry. At Manila we went into camp for several days and thus had one last opportunity to see the capital of the islands. American push, industry and scientific achievement had accomplished wonders in Manila. We saw there wharves just outside the mouth of the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 505 Passig River accommodating the biggest steamers that sailed the Pacific Ocean, and the part of the river inside the city was lined with better wharves than used to be there. We saw many fine modern buildings and other improvements which many years more of Span- ish rule would not have put there. The great change in Manila was very evident. At our leaving, our troops were being concentrated on the island of Luzon, and near Manila, including Corregidor and other small islands commanding the entrance to Manila Bay. Corregidor and neighboring islands were being forti- fied, and our regulars were being concentrated there and at Camps Stotsenburg and McKinley, leaving the greater part of the Philippines garrisoned by Philippine Scouts and Constabularies. A company of Maccabebee Scouts relieved my six companies at Cebu. In the acquisition of those islands we “ gave hostages to fortune,” for, by raising the American flag there we showed Japan and other naval powers where to strike us a blow which we could not parry, and the islands are not worth a war with any big nation. I have no sympathy whatever with our big brother and grand- mother manner of treating the Filipinos and their islands. I don’t feel that we owe them anything, and I would not have the slightest objection to our selling the islands to Japan, or to any other nation, for a decent price : indeed that is what I advocate. The Filipinos do not yet understand us, or our mo- tives, still mistaking our justice and patience for lack of intelligence, and our kindness for cowardice. They envy and hate us. We could not defend the islands against any big nation, for the landing of a small army, bringing thirty thousand rifles and necessary 506 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY ammunition for the natives, would be sufficient to lose us the islands. Having lost the islands we could not recover them except after a long war, and they are not worth that, in any way. I cannot help believing that we will yet pay dearly for the Philippines, and I would be glad to see our flag leave there, in any honorable manner. The same old Army Transport Sherman left Manila about June 15, 1912, with the entire 6th Infantry and the Headquarters, Band and first two battalions of the 9th Infantry. I was again the senior officer aboard, and therefore commanded the transport again. There were many glad hearts aboard on that trip back to God’s Country, and nothing happened to mar the long journey to San Francisco. We stopped a few hours at Nagasaki, and about a day at Honolulu. While out at sea, every few days a wireless message came from somewhere, and in that way we heard from the United States long before landing at ’Frisco. We learned by wireless telegraphy the news from the political conventions which nominated candidates for the coming presidential election campaign, and I was confident that Woodrow Wilson would win, and I congratulated myself on my improved prospects for promotion, and I also felt that our chances for going into Mexico were now sure of accomplishment. At last I would be a charter member of “Aztec Club No. 2.” Once more, as we approached “The Golden Gate” I repeated Walter Scott’s immortal words “Breathes there the man, etc.,” and again tried my eyes in look- ing for land. I was as good as the average man in getting first sight of our own soil. The Sherman had no cholera aboard, and we were allowed to move right A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 507 up against the wharf. There were many friends there for many of us. General Jesse M. Lee was on hand, looking somewhat broken. We learned that Head- quarters, Band and one battalion of the regiment would go to Fort Thomas, Ky., and that the other two battalions would be divided between Forts Snelling and Logan H. Roots. We made good time disembarking and unloading, and I tried to get away without losing a man, but a fine sergeant, named Schlenker, must go and drink too much and get left behind. He came on, soon after- wards, paying his own way. He lost his chevrons, and much of his good reputation as a soldier because of his uncontrollable appetite for strong drink. We arrived at Fort Thomas, Ky., July 16, 1912, on a very warm day. CHAPTER XIX After seeing that my second son, Mitchell, did not wish the appointment to Annapolis which I could get for him, I redoubled my efforts and obtained for him, too, an appointment to our Military Academy, which he entered in June, 1912, after a course of special preparation at Prof. Schadmann’s school at Wash- ington, D. C. Carey’s appointment had been as an alternate, with many ahead of him on the list, making his examina- tion very hard, for he had to beat all the alternates ahead of him, and some of the principals had to fail in order to give vacancies for the alternates to com- pete for. Mitchell’s appointment was a straight out competitive examination for all, for there were no principals, and all candidates had equal chance for the appointment. President Roosevelt gave Carey his opportunity, and President Taft gave Mitchell his chance. I had to work hard each time, to get my boys the opportunity to compete for appointments, and I saw to it that they were given the proper kind of instruction to enable them to pass the required examinations. Fort Thomas had not been garrisoned for about two years, and only a part of the post had been prepared for our coming, but it had been so recently built that all the houses were in fairly good condition. Lieut- 508 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 509 enant Leonard had been ordered home from the Philippines ahead of the regiment. He was sick and on recovery was sent to Fort Thomas to await the arrival of the regiment, which he did, and found there no supplies of any kind. Strange oversight of the War Department! Leonard found only workmen putting buildings in better condition. Knowing that we would arrive at Fort Thomas with no more than one or two days’ rations on hand, he hastened to con- stitute himself commanding officer and then, to ap- point himself all the different supply officers of a post authorized at that time. In those various capacities he submitted requisitions, approved them as com- manding officer, and forwarded them to be filled. We had great reason to thank Lieut. Leonard for his good and wise forethought. He saved the situa- tion, for in advance of our arrival, all without any authority from his superiors, he obtained all sorts of subsistence stores, forage, animals and wagon transportation, and many other things necessary for any post. He did not even belong to that part of the regiment ordered to Fort Thomas. His com- pany belonged to the battalion sent to Fort Logan H. Roots, Ark. As a reward, and to show my appreciation of what he had done, I transferred Lieut. Leonard to the batta- lion at Fort Thomas and kept him there, knowing that it would greatly please him. During my long service I have seen and known of exceedingly few instances of conduct like that described, and it raised Leonard very much in my estimation. He was not a fine post duty officer, and he took very little interest in the social life of a post, but he impressed me as a man who would do excellent field work, being very 510 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY resourceful in many ways, very hardy and fond of hunting the wildest sort of game. He would shine best as a partisan officer. In all my life I was in greatest danger of a violent death at Fort Thomas. It happened in this way. Early one morning I was taking my before breakfast walk, using a long stick to assist me in getting up and down those very steep hills, and I was returning to my quarters, walking along the railroad tracks nearest the post. I had arrived almost opposite the big power plant between the post and the river when a long freight train approached me, making an almost deafening noise as it came on down the river. There were at least half a dozen tracks at that spot, and the freight train was on the one farthest from me. It was making such a noise that I could hear nothing else at any distance. But, in a little while I did hear a faint little sound to my right and rear, and looking quickly over my right shoulder I saw a lone engine about ten or twelve feet from me, with a man on top of it bending over and nearly splitting his throat trying to arouse me to a realization of my danger. I have always been very quick and active in my movements, but I never needed extreme agility so much on any other occasion. Quick as thought I made one leap to the right, using my long stick in doing so. While I was in the air the engine passed me with a rush of wind and a mingled sound made by the man and engine. The man was then looking towards me, and he was bending low to see if I had been hurt. I had made only one leap, and had done it very quickly, but while I was still in the air the engine struck my long stick which must have been pointing to my rear. The stick A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 511 was made to strike the calf of my right leg, bringing me to the ground, on my back. I was not aware of what had happened, but from my position on the ground I heard the engine go past, and I saw the man eagerly looking to see what had happened to me. I hastened to relieve his mind by instantly giving him a military salute, which I was glad to be able to do. Rising from the ground I exam- ined myself to see if I had been injured in any way. I found the calf of my right leg quite sore, and exam- ining further I saw that my right leggin showed evi- dences of rough treatment where it was struck by the stick which I carried. The soreness remained with me only a few days, but that lesson I will never forget. Fort Thomas is located on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River, several miles above Cincinnati, Ohio, and Newport and Covington, Ky., at a point on the river where the bluffs are the highest for a hundred miles. Only West Point, N. Y., has a prettier location, among the posts that I have seen. It is several hun- dred feet above the river, and offers views up and down and across the river which are excelled by those at West Point only. We found the people on both sides of the river eager and anxious to see us and to try to make our stay at Fort Thomas pleasant and agreeable, and we were not slow in reciprocating. Our gymnasium had a big hall for indoor drills and dancing, and a space for a post exchange. For all those purposes we soon used the big building, not excepting the dancing. Several times the people of the neighborhood were allowed to give their dances there. The autumn weather was superb, and it soon braced me up physically, and the fine stores of Cincinnati 512 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY gave us excellent opportunity to supply ourselves with many things necessary in that latitude and climate. We lost no time in making friends on both sides of the river. The old target range was located eleven miles from the post, up the Licking River, and contained only about 164 acres, much too small for a modern target range, but, on account of the high hills paralleling the river and other advantageous location at that spot, I really think that there was then little or no danger to next door neighbors during target practice. The line of targets was along the base of the hill, and the firing points were down near the river, some of them being on the opposite side of the river. There had been no firing there for several years, because of complaints from farmers close by. While on duty at Governor’s Island in 1903 I saw the correspondence on the subject, and while at Thomas I found the old time target range leases. I believe the target range to be less dangerous during practice season than that at Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana. But, at the latter place the people in pos- sible danger were tenants on Government property instead of being the owners of neighboring farms which they wished to sell to the Government at exorbitant prices. The trouble began, as I said, as early as 1903, and I remembered about it as I began to make arrange- ments for our coming target firing. I found that the office at Governor’s Island appeared to have forgotten about it, and I had to remind them of it from my recollection of the papers which I had seen while on duty there. After discussing the relative availability of Camp Perry, Ohio, and Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 513 the latter place was chosen for our next season’s target practice. In the meantime I examined well the old range for quail and other small game, and three times I spent the best part of a cold day in hunting there. There were a dozen or so quail on the reserva- tion, also a few squirrels, many cotton-tail rabbits, and sometimes a very few migratory birds which did not remain there long. I killed a few rabbits, no quail, no squirrel, but, one day I had the good luck to flush several woodcock, one at a time, and to kill two of them, the first birds of that tribe that I ever shot at. The next winter I did not go hunting, being discour- aged by my first winter’s poor luck. I did not try fishing in Licking River, for which I am very sorry. Early in the spring of 1913 the second battalion of the regiment came down from Fort Snelling, Minn., thus completing the size of the garrison for which the post was built. Major G. B. Duncan commanded the new addition to the garrison. Before this, however, we had our first test ride, during the first week in December while it was quite cold. My only companion on this ride was the Lieu- tenant Colonel of the regiment, D. C. Shanks, an old time fine rifle shot. I had tried for many weeks to get a good horse from the remount station at Front Royal, Va., but making slow progress and feeling that the brigade commander was getting impatient, I went in to Newport one morning and bought a very large, very strong, hardy, well gaited fine looking but vicious gelding. I had to have a horse, so I hurried to buy something that would take me through the test ride. I was soon very sorry, but I used the animal on the test ride, and I rode him the three days without his showing the 514 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY slightest fatigue, or even the turn of a hair. His pro- pensity was to keep his rider in the belief that the next time that he reared up he would surely fall over back- wards, and he was an adept at the whole business. One time he reared up so straight that my saddle blanket slipped out from under the saddle and saddle cloth. I realized that the horse had practically all the good qualities I wanted in my saddle horse, and I tried hard to get him broken in and made gentle. After inviting my best horsemen to ride my horse, and noticing that no man ever showed a desire to ride him a second time, I got tired of feeling my life was in danger every time I mounted him, and I lost no time in selling him back to the man I had bought him from. I lost $75 on the deal, but I rode my test ride with very little fatigue. Next to my fine red bay horse Frank, at Fort Sill, that same vicious horse suited me best in everything except disposition. Since my promotion I had a horse of my own except for several months at Cebu. I now bought another horse from the Government, finding one to suit me among the animals ridden by my mounted detach- ment. “Tom” was my last horse, and he was one of the roughest trotters that I ever rode. But I made good use of him on the roads around Fort Thomas during the many field exercises of various kinds en- gaged in there. The country of the neighborhood was well adapted for such military work. Major Duncan was an excellent instructor in such exercises, also in class room problems on the map, and I was glad to utilize his services in that kind of work during the fine weather we had at Fort Thomas. Major Bookmiller was an invaluable assistant in all military duties, A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 515 including those just mentioned. He was junior to Major Duncan, and was always a loyal, willing subordinate. Early in April, 1913, I went to Washington to see what were my prospects for promotion to brigadier general. I saw quite a number of other officers there, and they appeared to be on business similar to mine. I remember none that had any better luck than fell to my lot. In the spring of 1913 the Ohio River and its tribu- tary streams afflicted the country with floods which caused the loss of many lives and a great deal of valu- able property. From Fort Thomas we had a great view of the high water in the Ohio and Little Miami Rivers. At one time the Miami floods came so fast that its highwater backed up into the Ohio and made the waters of that stream appear to run up the river. The little village on the Ohio side, California, was under water to include the second floor and transporta- tion through its streets was by row boat and steam launch. The people of the Ohio Valley very promptly called upon the Army for help, especially for the preservation of good order, which kind of assistance we could not give without authority from Washington. Of course if anything had occurred that evidently was beyond the power of the civil authority to con- trol, I would have used my troops according to my own judgment. As regarded mere fighting the flood and supplying the needy, I received instructions very quickly, and I sent officers and enlisted men up and down the river. My detachments had charge of the supplies which were distributed to the sufferers, and my people went up the Ohio almost to Pittsburg, and down that river and the Mississippi, and then up the 516 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Arkansas and Red Rivers for hundreds of miles. Most of the Army help that I heard of was given by my regiment, acting under the orders from Washington and under the supervision of Majors Normoyle and Logan, Q. M. Corps. The Secretary of War, Mr. Garrison, and the Chief of Staff, General Wood, came to look at the situation, and I went to Cincinnati to report to them. I had seen the Secretary at Washington a few weeks before, and I had met the Chief of Staff on various occasions. Apparently, things were going to their satisfaction. In June, 1913, I went to West Point, N. Y., to see my boys, the older of whom belonged to the graduating class, and the younger to the class of 1916. As I entered the area of barracks through the old sallyport I saw many cadets walking what we used to call “extras.” I recognized in the nearest youngster the son of one of my classmates. He answered my greeting with a grin. He did fine service in France. I witnessed the graduating ceremonies, attended the graduating hop and danced. Mitchell was one of the hop managers of his class, and took great pleasure in finding partners for me. West Point looked just as beautiful as ever, but I saw many changes, many additional buildings and some larger ones. The Corps of Cadets seem to be always the same, and there is no other equal to it. I met many old time friends there, and one of them informed me that I had been recommended for the General Staff and that I would soon get it. That rumor was soon repeated from Fort Leavenworth and from Washington, but when the vacancy in the Gen- eral Staff occurred another Board of Officers was convened, and another man received the detail. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 517 In 3 months more I received a letter of congratula- tion on my (supposed) promotion to brigadier general. That letter came from a general officer who knew Washington well and he surely had good reason to think his congratulations justified. I expect that other officers have similarly missed it by the “inch” which is as “good as a mile.” Late in May, 1913, I marched my regiment to Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, for target practice. Before starting I followed my usual plan relative to the selection of camp sites along the road. I wrote, or had my adjutant write, letters to the postmasters of all the towns where I wished to halt for the night. I requested those postmasters to ascertain, by per- sonal observation, where I could obtain in their immediate neighborhood, sufficient ground, water and fuel for my command. I informed each postmaster how many men and animals I had, also how much land I would need for camp. Very soon I received replies to all my letters, and before the end of May I started out with my eight companies, leaving the Adjutant and the Band to guard the post during our absence. The weather was cool during most of the march, due partly to recent rains. One night we camped in the town of Harrison, through which passes the boundary line between Ohio and Indiana. In a couple of weeks I received a letter, or postal card, originally written to the Secretary of War, and referred to me for remark. The writer in- formed the Secretary that, on the occasion when the 9th Infantry camped in the town, he and other gentle- men were surprised and shocked to see enlisted men carrying kegs of beer into camp. 518 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I returned the paper to the Adjutant General of the Army with the information that the writer’s state- ments as to facts were all true, and that during the entire march the same thing happened every day; that an arrangement had been made with some brew- ery, or other company to furnish so many kegs at each halt; that the beer belonged to the men and was paid for by them; that each day, immediately on completion of the work of pitching camp, the men of each company, tin cups in hand, passed by their com- pany beer keg and each man received a soldier’s tin cup full of cold beer, and that, on account of such refreshment at a time when it was so pleasant and agreeable, I was sure that the men had been made more contented on the march. I also stated that such was our practice, whenever practicable, when march- ing in hot weather. I never heard anything more from that postal card. The 23rd Infantry was stationed at Fort Benjamin Harrison at the date of our arrival, but the regiment was actually absent in Texas on account of troubles along the Mexican border, and, together with many other regiments, was located at, or near Galveston, from which port a brigade finally sailed for \ era Cruz, which port we had already taken after killing an un- known number of Mexicans. Officially, that was not war, but the resemblance was strong. At Fort Benjamin Harrison we had a very satis- factory target season, and then we marched back home by a slightly different route, taking the usual precautions to get the assistance of the postmasters in selecting our camp sites. Postmasters are employees of the general government, like ourselves, and they never forget it. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 519 After arriving at Fort Thomas I sent the machine gun company and mounted orderlies to do their target practice, under the command of Capt. C. C. Kinney, Adjutant. Those marches were very instructive to all of us. I continued my practice of beginning the march each day sufficiently early to enable us to reach camp by 10 or 11 a.m., and I also tried the experiment, of having each man carry a lunch on the long marches, and of making the last halt and eating our lunches only half a mile before completing our day’s march, so that the men on reaching camp would be comparatively fresh. As a result of such management the men worked better, especially with the assistance of the cool beer given them as soon as all camp pitching labor had been finished. The men then lay down in the shade and slept for a while. My experiment gave satisfaction. On the road we noticed many wrecks of bridges, ruined houses and fields from the recent floods. Some of the results were wonderful proofs of the great force with which water works destruction when it travels in a flood. In August, 1913, I was sent with one battalion of the regiment to Camp Perry, Ohio, where parts of the 3rd and 17th infantry regiments assisted us in furnish- ing the necessary working parties to keep the target range and targets in proper condition. Brigadier General R. K. Evans was in charge of the National and International matches, and I was in command of all regular troops on the range. My duty was to see that the proper and necessary details of officers and enlisted men were made each day. At Camp Perry the firing points were all on one line, and the targets for firing at the different ranges were put in echelon, 520 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY in separate lines with backs toward Lake Erie, into which water our bullets fell. Such arrangement of firing points and targets made very safe shooting. There were about 2000 competitors, including rifle teams from Switzerland, Peru, Argentina, France, Canada and all our own states. Of course there were teams there from the Army, Navy and the Marine Corps. During pistol practice an American soldier was wounded by a French competitor, under circumstances which did not give us a high opinion of the French- man’s steadiness and coolness. One of the Peruvian competitors was accidentally killed by his comrade, while both were in their tent. The two incidents mentioned were not pleasant, but they were passed over quietly. The Canadians were the best individual shots on the range, but our own team beat them by a small margin, because of better team work. The Argentina team also beat the Canadians in team work. The climate at Camp Perry was fine and bracing. My wife was with me, there being a nice hotel at the target reservation. At the end of our work at that big rifle match the 9th and 3rd Infantry battalions were ordered to Cleveland, Ohio, to assist in a celebration there of Commodore Perry’s victory on Lake Erie, not far from the city. We were given a fine camp site in the suburbs of Cleveland, down close to the lake. We took a prominent part in the celebration, and were treated very hospitably by the people of the city, a fine, growing place of immense importance. We returned to Fort Thomas after an absence of about seven weeks. We saw the Mayor of Cleveland, afterwards A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 521 our Secretary of War, and we listened to his speech at the ceremony. The fall and winter passed very pleasantly indeed. Cincinnati was very convenient, and the people of that and other towns were very kind and cordial to us. In October, 1913, the field officers at Fort Thomas took their annual test ride. I conducted the test, riding my own horse Tom part of the time. No one was injured by the exercise; in fact I believe that it benefited all of us. The son of General Simon Bolivar Buckner, of Confederate army fame, was one of our second lieu- tenants, and the General visited his son, bringing Mrs. Buckner with him. The General was then more than 90 years old, but he was very young and active for his age. General Jesse M. Lee and Mrs. Lee were also with us, visiting their daughter, Mrs. Rethers, who was the wife of Capt. Rethers, 9th Infantry. The Captain had no superior, as an officer, in the regiment. General Lee was an old time officer of the 9th Infantry, and had a wonderful record as an Indian man, having been agent at several Indian Agencies. At every post which I have commanded in recent years the troops have been annoyed by solicitors and collectors, who get as close as possible to the men on pay days, and place themselves, if possible, where the men will have to pass right by, or through them after receiving their pay from the Government. At Fort Sam Houston in 1908 or 1909, at Cebu in 1910, or 1911, and at Fort Thomas on March 4, 1913, I issued orders prohibiting those people from being allowed to thus annoy my men. Salvation Army representatives 522 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY and Catholic Sisters of Charity were mostly in my mind when I issued the orders, which were worded practically alike. My last mentioned order was as follows: Fort Thomas, Ky., March 4, 1913. Memorandum: 1. During the payment of troops the Officer of the Day will see that all solicitors and collectors be not allowed to enter the building where the payment is taking place, or to stand in the doorway of same, or on the cement walk leading from the building to the walk. 2. This is not intended to prevent a soldier from paying any debt, or from donating his money to any institution, but it is for the purpose of allowing him to dispose of his money uninfluenced by any one. By order of Colonel Crane. (Signed) C. C. Kinney, Captain and Adjutant 9th Infantry Adjutant. The result of my last order was a complaint that the Sisters of Charity had not been allowed to make their customary collections on pay day. The complaint was made to Joseph Tumulty, the President’s Secre- tary, and it was sent to me for remark. In reply I furnished copies of all my orders on the subject, and I stated in addition, that I considered it a “hold up’’ and a robbery for those Sisters of Charity and Salva- tion Army Sisters to waylay my men at the pay table. I heard no more of the matter. I joined the Newport Blue Lodge while serving at Fort Thomas, and enjoyed many meetings before our departure. Just before leaving I joined the Scottish A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 523 Rite Masons in Covington, and took all the degrees up to include the 32nd. From the 19th to the 32nd, both inclusive, I was only obligated, not having time to receive the regular initiations. Meanwhile the Mexican question continued no better, and finally, March 19, 1914, the regiment left Fort Thomas for the Texas border, and reached Laredo on the Rio Grande March 23rd, one day after the 3rd Battalion, which came from Fort Logan H. Roots, Ark. While at Fort Thomas I had been, from time to time, in temporary command of the brigade, but not long enough to justify my going down to Atlanta, Ga., the brigade headquarters. I was in temporary command of the brigade when ordered to the border, the other regiment, the 17th Inf., being ordered there also. Laredo having been selected as the location for brigade headquarters I requested that the 9th Infan- try might be stationed there. My reasons were that my regiment would be at my place of duty all the time; I being next in rank to the General and would com- mand in his absence. I also considered Laredo as the most likely spot for trouble to start at, as well as being the most important town on the Rio Grande south of El Paso. On arrival at Laredo we were promptly besieged by requests and recommendations from certain citizens of Laredo to locate our camp outside the town, where our men would be compelled to patronize the street car line when they should wish to get into town, but I preferred to locate my camp so as practically, to get all the advantages of being stationed at Fort McIn- tosh. Therefore we cleared off the ground next to the railroad spur track in the post and pitched a good 524 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY camp. We killed a few rattlesnakes while putting the ground in proper condition. We found the people very much afraid of the Mexi- cans, who had a strong garrison in Nueva Laredo, and the people of Mexican blood comprised three-fourths of the population of Laredo in Texas. We had been informed from Washington that the purpose, or object of our being ordered to the border was “to allay the apprehensions of the people of Laredo and Eagle Pass”: the 17th Infantry was sent to the latter place, and our station was announced as being the town of Laredo, not Fort McIntosh where a squadron of the 14th Cavalry was already located and continued to remain. Rumors of what the Mexicans were going to do to us were frequent, and they continued, with short interruptions, till after my retirement. The attitude of the Nueva Laredo garrison was not very friendly, and small frictions were occurring from time to time. We were not allowed to cross the river for any pur- pose, and two of the noted cases in correspondence between the two governments arose from murders com- mitted by the Mexicans at and near Nueva Laredo. In our Laredo I found my old time friend Allen Walker, the efficient captain of Philippine Scouts. He had been retired, and was Deputy U. S. Marshal at Laredo, a very important position. He had, while a young man, served in the 3rd Cavalry and had taken an active part in putting down the Garza attempt at a revolution in Mexico, earning and receiving a medal of honor. He was very useful to us during my two years at Laredo, being very well informed, and having an authority which enabled him to do some things which we could not do. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 52 5 For the first nine months I lived in the quarters of the commanding officer at Fort McIntosh which I found unoccupied. I took into those quarters with me my three regimental staff officers and their wives, and my own wife came very soon after. We had a full house. It was my mess as commanding officer, and under my orders my regimental commissary ran it for me. It was managed in a very efficient and satisfac- tory manner, and it was one of the few instances where the ladies of a mess had nothing to say about the management. Seeing that my men were already swimming in the Rio Grande I merely warned them, in published infor- mation, of the dangerous nature of the current, but I did not forbid them from swimming in the river. My reason for not forbidding their swimming in a danger- ous stream was the fact that our orders contemplated instructing our men in swimming during a certain period, and I expected to receive orders directing the giving of such instruction. Very soon a soldier was last seen swimming in the Rio Grande, and his body was never found. I still issued no order forbidding swimming in the river, for I expected to have to cross that river under hostile fire pretty soon, and I wanted my men to know the best places for doing so. When our Navy took possession of Vera Cruz on April 21, 1914, things got much warmer in our vicinity, and hostile rumors got thicker. For some time I had been placing cossack sentry posts at several places along the river, and I now increased the strength of the guard at the two bridges, one a railroad bridge and the other a wagon and foot bridge. On April 2?nd the Mexican garrison began queer 526 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY movements of trains loaded with troops, some of them returning to Nueva Laredo with the information that Monterey was no longer Huertista, but had become Carranzista from having been captured by that party. That cut off the garrison of Nueva Laredo from other Huertistas. Rumors of attack on us became more positive, so I had the battery of the 3rd Field Artillery, under Capt. J. E. Stephens, located out of sight in such position that their guns would be able to do the most damage to the other side of the river. Stephens’ battery had arrived from Fort Sam Houston shortly before we got to Laredo. It was a most valuable addition to our force. On April 23rd the entire population of Nueva Laredo, male, female and infant, with loaded vehicles of all sorts streamed across the international foot- bridge, running from some danger, but giving us no information as to what was the matter, either from fear or ignorance. That sort of thing having happened on several previous occasions in the past when the town was threatened by hostile Mexican troops, we wondered all the more because we knew of none such nearer than Monterey. At least three thousand people crossed to our side of the river that day, with their household goods and everything they could bring along with the limited transportation available to them. I was at the bridge several times during the day and noticed them, and I tried to get some information from them through our Customs, Health and Immi- gration officers on duty at the same bridge, but the Mexicans would say nothing, looking apprehensive of some danger but obstinately declining to talk. My daily visits, to talk with our American officials at the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 527 bridge kept me in close touch with the situation, for those gentlemen were well acquainted in Mexico, and were constantly seeing old friends among the people crossing the bridge. But that day they could learn nothing. On the 24th of April railroad trains on the other side were visible, all loaded and still loading in Nueva Laredo, switching and moving about. Apparently the whole garrison was trying to do something, or go somewhere. Finally, a few minutes after our mid-day meal, we were aroused by very loud explosions in Nueva Laredo, followed by sounds of rifle firing. Running out of my quarters I saw and heard more explosions in Nueva Laredo, and I saw flames and smoke rising from half a dozen of the principal build- ings there. I also heard more rifle shots, and I saw some of the trains moving off with their loads of Mexican troops. Very promptly my mounted orderly appeared, mounted and leading my own good horse Tom, and almost as soon the 3rd Battalion of the 9th Infantry, under Capt. J. V. Heidt, turned the corner at the adjutant’s office. I immediately placed myself at their head and marched into town, leaving instruc- tions for the 1st Battalion to follow, and for the 2nd Battalion to remain in camp under arms, only two companies of it being available because of having two on guard duty. I placed the 3rd Battalion, resting with flanks on the two bridges, and then I rode around to investigate conditions. At the railroad bridge I found the guard wide awake and looking for more Mexicans to shoot at. 2nd Lieut. J. C. Williams, the Officer of the Day, commanded that guard. I located the 1st Battalion on the left of the 3rd, and then I rode back to the 528 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY railroad bridge. We were exceedingly anxious to preserve those two bridges. In an hour there was little left of Nueva Laredo, nearly all of the best houses having been previously prepared for burning, and at the signal they were nearly all set on fire. One building, the store of the American Vice Consul, Shelby Theriot, was saved by a combination of accidents. It was prepared by the Mexicans for burning, like the others, but the fire was put out in the beginning by the flames reaching a wooden overground cistern, burning through to the water and letting the water out on the fire beneath, thus saving the building and a valuable stock of goods. Shelby Theriot was a good friend of ours. The Consul, Mr. Garrett, had wisely come across the river a week or two before the fire. His consulate was one of the first buildings fired. For a week or two after the departure of the Huertistas we guarded the bridges with exceeding care. The Tex-Mex. R. R. Co., through their capable and courteous Vice-President, Silas W. DeWolf, loaned us an engine which was run out on the railroad bridge about half way across, and its headlight lighted up the Mexican end of the bridge so as to give the rifles of our men command of the entire length of it. The “Motion Picture” people in Laredo loaned us their strong light to locate at the foot bridge, and that enabled my guards to control that bridge also. The day following the fire a small number of Carran- zistas, sympathisers and followers from our side, crossed to the other side and organized some sort of a city government, and some few of the fugitives returned to their own town. Later in the day, on the 25th of April, some 20 or 80 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 529 ... irregulars, mounted Carranzistas, galloped into Nueva Laredo, through the streets and down to the foot bridge, yelling and firing their pistols and short car- bines, and then took possession of the town. For some days longer their garrison was only a little larger and better, and for many months it did not exceed 400 men, who assumed a very different attitude towards Americans from that maintained by the Huertistas. The new garrison wanted to come over to our side and be sociable, but our orders would not permit that, and we continued to remain closely on our own side of the river. My drum major was tried by military court and punished for disregarding the order to remain strictly on our own side and for going to the Mexican end of the international foot bridge. Only a part of the original Nueva Laredo popula- tion returned to their town, about two thousand out of the three thousand refugees remaining in Laredo, or going on to San Antonio. But, with the overthrow of the Huertistas the border was relieved from immediate danger; that condition, however, was to return later on. In those days I saw several times my old time com- rade and good friend, General A. C. Markley, then retired and living in Laredo, trying to get some return from his onion farm, and having a hard time of it. About June 1, 1914, he went north to see his grandson at the Culver Military Academy. That boy was the only child of Ned Markley, my 9th Immune captain, whom I buried early in 1899 at Santiago, Cuba. The permanent brigade commander, Brigadier Gen- eral R. K. Evans, returned from leave some time in July, 1914, and then I reverted to my proper position as commanding officer of the troops stationed at Lare- do, but not including the garrison of Fort McIntosh. 530 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY My command on April 24th was my 9th Infantry and Capt. Stephens’ battery of the 3rd Field Artillery. About a month later Battery “E,” 6th Field Artillery, under Capt. Fox Conner, joined us. To this additional battery soon came my son Carey, who was transferred from Battery “D,” at Brownsville, Texas. The transfer was made on the recommendation of the temporary regimental commander, Major McNair, who told me that he soon saw that he must have an- other second lieutenant with that battery, and that he remembered that Carey was my son and he knew that he was available, therefore he had requested the move. I thanked McNair very warmly. I had known him when he was a cadet and in my company at West Point. Carey was at Laredo during all my remaining time there, excepting the last few days when he had to return to the Brownsville district, being transferred to the 4th Field Artillery then under orders for Panama. I had good opportunity to observe the progress of my son, in whose bringing up and educa- tion I had taken so much interest. When I found him again under my control I gave him duties that would increase his general efficiency, and round him off as an officer. I wish I could have had as good an oppor- tunity to assist my son Mitchell. In addition to seeing Carey’s performance as an officer I frequently had him hunting with me, in the chapparal up and down the Rio Grande, after deer, the wild hog of that section, quail, Mexican pigeons and ducks, and I discovered that he could orient him- self in a strange locality better than I could, and get back to camp as well as I, even though I did carry a compass. During our two hunting seasons at Laredo we both frequently killed our limit of quail allowed A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 531 in one day, and for the two seasons we both killed our limit of deer. That experience will, some day, be of great benefit to him, and it has already increased his value as an officer. In August, 1914, I was ordered to command a camp of the organized militia of Oklahoma, near South McAlester. My wife and I took advantage of the opportunity to go a little further and see my mother at Eufaula, where she was living with my brother Tom’s widow and family of little ones. My mother’s children owe a deep debt of gratitude to my sister-in- law, for her kind and tender treatment of our mother. My brother Balfour came over from Fort Smith, Ark., and my brother Gordon’s widow came down from Checotah to see us. Capt. Wagner and his company of the 17th In- fantry represented the regular Army at the camp, acting as models and instructors. The entire detach- ment performed their duties to my entire satisfac- tion, due chiefly, in my opinion, to the efforts and efficiency of Capt. Wagner himself. For several weeks we worked with the Oklahoma militia, very willing and hard working fellows, but in my report of my work with them I repeated what the War Department has undoubtedly been told frequently, viz: that the militia came to camp without the proper and neces- sary knowledge of close order drill; that they came to camp so recently and hastily recruited that they could not possess such knowledge; that too much valuable time was therefore wasted in preliminary drills and exercises, leaving too little time available for more advanced work; that the militia had, in my opinion, the wrong idea; wishing to fly and believing that they could do so, before they could crawl; that it would 532 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY require two months more work before they could be qualified to fight with Mexicans, and at least six months more before they could meet first class troops; this, even if commanded by a regular colonel, assisted by several regulars commanding battalions. My estimate was really too favorable, unless all field officers and regimental staff could be regulars, and the time for target practice added to the period specified. We have read in the early accounts of the great World War just ended in Europe that the British carefully and laboriously trained their volunteers for practically one year before allowing them to look at the German trenches. The greatest danger that con- fronts us is the belief of our people that a few days training will make a soldier of a man, fitting him to contend with regulars like those of Germany, for in- stance. Almost equally great danger is caused by the ignorance of our people regarding the length of time that the enemy would allow us before making us engage in battle. For many years the Army has been trying to get our people to properly understand the danger, and to prepare to meet it. Our efforts have not always been gratefully received. The following copy of an order which was really issued needs no remark. War Department, Washington, February 23, 1915. General Orders, No. 10. Officers of the Army will refrain, until further orders, from giving out for publication any interview, statement, discussion or article on the military situ- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 533 ation in the United States or abroad, as any expression of their views on this subject at present is prejudicial to the best interests of the service. By order of the Secretary of War: (Signed) H. L. Scott, (2260070, A. G. O.) Brigadier General, Chief of Staff. Official : (Signed) H. P. McCain, The Adjutant General. That order has not been revoked, so far as I know, and I have looked diligently for it. We could not understand the issuing of such an order at such a time, but we obeyed it and kept out of print anything about our unprepared condition, and our sympathies, as between the opposing nations. But we talked among ourselves, and one day at Laredo the wife of one of my captains gave me a typewritten copy of the following companion piece to that which was repeated some years ago by Capt. Coghlan of our Navy at a banquet in New York. DER KAISER UND DER CROWN PRINCE. Der Kaiser calls der Crown Prince in, Und say to him, “Mein Son, I tinks we go und licks der vorldt. Dot gif’s us lots of fun.” Der Crown Prince say, “Perhaps ve can’t.” Der Kaiser schlapps der table, “E-e-eeef I could lick der vorldt; By Gott, mein son, I’m able. Dose Frenchmens, vot is dem to us? I crush dem mit mein thumb, In yoost one week, in Paris street, You hear mein Deutchers drum. 534 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY In spite of treaties I vill show, Der Belgians who I am; I’m yoost like Baron Munchausen, kid. Mein vordt ain’t vort a damn. I come right back from Paris qvick, Und tackle him, der Czar, I bet he say damn suddenly, Vot fighting mens you are. Und leetle George of England, too, I turn him on my knee, Und spank him so he cries out loud, ‘Ach, Kaiser, pardon me.’ Dose yellow Japs dot talk so big, I gif dose fellows hell, I make dem tink der planet Mars, On top of dem has fell. Und, if der Yankees gif me sass, I go right over dere, Und tear der Gott Tamt country up, I vill, by Gott, I schwear. You don’t know me yet, mein son, You never seen me fight, But dots der Gottalmightiest ding. In vich I take delight.” But we remembered so well the meaning of General Orders No. 10 that I heard of no one repeating that piece anywhere during the war, even after we joined it, although it is pretty sure that many of us wished to do something like that many times. On returning from Oklahoma I resumed my regular duties, and my recreation which was at that time of the year hunting “white wings,” a wild pigeon from Mexico. That bird comes over to our side of the Rio A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 535 Grande only during the hottest part of the year. It is smaller than our tame pigeon, and has a tail of the same shape. It has some white along the wing which shows while in flight. It is larger than our turtle dove, and is brighter in color. It differs most from the turtle dove in the shape of the tail, which with the dove is pointed. The white wings come across the Rio Grande to our water tanks and water holes for water, late in the afternoon, and for an hour or two their flight furnishes good wing shooting. On hunts for them I always took along one or two of my officers, hunting oftenest with my son Carey and Lieut. Lewis. Watermelon never tasted so well as when eaten on those hot days while hunting white wings. We always got the watermelon from the big ice box of Bruni, the dealer, in Laredo. On November 1st the hunting season for deer and quail began, and quite frequently I hunted both kinds of game. Even the country up and down the Rio Grande is now fenced in, and most of the fields and pastures are posted, and hunting in them requires permission from the owner. When I first saw the Rio Grande in 1877 there were no fences except those around small cultivated fields and small pastures close to the dwelling house. In hunting out from Laredo in 1914, 1915 and 1916, and even since then, I found that I could still hold my own in shooting with rifle and shotgun, and even in finding the game, whether deer, jabalina or quail. It pleased me fully as much to learn that I could still find the deer as it did to shoot at him. On those hunts for deer, lasting four or five days, I would take with me an extra shotgun and some cartridges for the use of the enlisted men about camp. 536 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY That kept the men contented, and it supplied our table with excellent small game. One day, about 25 miles west of Encinal, a corporal of my party was out hunting with my extra shotgun, a 16-gauge double barrel. He had only the smallest kind of shot, but he was tired of shooting quail and wanted to shoot at bigger game, as some of the rest of us were doing. So, the corporal left the quail and went after deer. By the merest accident he got a very close shot at the biggest buck that I have seen killed along the Rio Grande. Using both barrels at the same time, with the deer only 15 or 20 yards away, the corporal killed the animal, and received a much bruised shoulder. But the shoulder did not bother, and the ignorant fellow ran and jumped on the dying buck to make him stop struggling. From that day my small bore shotgun was very popular with the enlisted men of the 9th Infantry, and on that same hunt another man killed a jabalina with it. On the strength of its performance on those hunts the gun was much desired by one of my ser- geants who had used it, and he offered to give me for it a new Winchester pump shotgun, 12 gauge. We “swapped” shotguns. After living for nine months in the quarters of the commanding officer at Fort McIntosh we had to move out, to make way for a newly arrived field officer of the cavalry. We had been very fortunate in being allowed to occupy those quarters. But now my staff officers and I had to get out and find quarters where we individually could do it. My wife and I landed splen- didly on our feet at the residence of Silas W. DeWolf, Vice-President of the Tex-Mex. R. R. Co., and for about 14 months we were most agreeably and com- A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 537 fortably housed, and treated very kindly and courteously. The regiment had its first target practice on the old target range, on the old Austin road, about seven miles from Laredo. That was the last target practice on that range, for Mr. Ortiz would no longer rent, or lease the ground, and we had to look for another range. A very good one was found on the land of Mr. Bruni, whose land was located down the river, while that of Ortiz was to the east and north of Laredo. Those two gentlemen were large cattle owners, with big pastures, and I was under obligation to both of them for permission to hunt on their lands. In the autumns of 1914, and 1915, we had our annual test rides, using the wagon road to Austin, along the railroad. I had Lieut. Lewis measure ten miles of that road. I had company on those rides. We rode twenty miles before lunch and ten miles after, which arrangement made the test an easy one. I have been particular to make mention of the different test rides because of the report made by the two young surgeons at Cebu that I had “arterio schlerosis,” incipient hardening of the arteries, I be- lieve, and I have also had in mind the refusal of the major surgeon at West Point, 1890, to accept me for a 15 years’ insurance policy, because of his belief that I had a heart that would cease to beat if tested by another attack of rheumatism. In the same manner and for similar reason I have not forgotten my stom- ach troubles of 1907, which I do not believe should have been allowed to make necessary any sick leave at all. At Laredo we had many instructive field exercises 538 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY and problems, and in our post graduate course for officers we had many instructive map problems. When the entire regiment was engaged in a field exercise the problem was gotten up by me, and I almost invari- ably commanded one side. Sometimes we had the cavalry and artillery work with us, and on such occa- sions I took the same part, both in getting up the problem and in commanding the troops. I always preferred to originate and prepare my own problems, whenever the entire regiment was to be engaged, or if I was booked for an active part. The rough ground between Laredo and the cemetery furnished excellent, but limited opportunity for field exercises, and the roads to Corpus Cristi and Brownsville had good ground for the movement of troops. The regiment was in excellent physical condition; indeed, I never saw it otherwise, though I must admit that the fine regimental feeling which I had found in the 9th Infantry on joining, was much weakened by the addition of so many new officers, so nearly at the same time, during the last two or three years of my service with the regiment. But I believe that the good old spirit remained just as strong as ever with the enlisted men. During my second game season at Laredo I hunted chiefly with my son Carey, sometimes taking with us Sergeant McBride of the battery, a Kansas man who had never shot at a deer before coming to Laredo. That soldier was the best natural hunter, and the most successful one, that I ever saw. He was also a fine man and an excellent comrade on a camp hunt, and that is a good time to gauge a man, in many respects. During my last hunt from Laredo, immediately following Christmas of 1915, we hunted on the land A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 539 of L. R. Ortiz, and camped 18 miles from Laredo, on the old San Antonio road, at a big tank. After several days hunting, on December 28th, when the sun was just rising, I was in the bushes two miles from camp. There was a cold wind blowing and my eyes were watery, but I saw well enough to distinguish, not more than 25 yards from me, the antlers of a very large buck which was looking at me over the top of a very bushy bush. I could plainly see the head and part of the neck, and I aimed at the biggest part of the neck, and fired. My next shot, fired as he turned to the right about on his hind feet, also missed, and my big buck ran off. Then I felt somewhat as I did many years before, when I let that big grizzly bear get away from under that juniper tree, but I hunted on, and I did not have to wait long to get another chance, to my great surprise because of the wariness of big bucks. In the afternoon of the same day, not far from the scene of my bad luck in the morning, while carefully going through the bushes about 2 o’clock, I saw through an opening in the bushes, a very large buck lying down in the shade of a tall bush, with his back to me. Taking careful and deliberate aim I fired. The big buck made only the slightest movement, and died. I drew my deer, and later in the day I got Carey to carry him, with my assistance, to his auto, several hundred yards away. I got a good man in Laredo, named Muter, to mount the buck’s head and neck. That fine specimen of Muter’s work now adorns our dining room, on Grayson Street, San Antonio. Always McBride beat us hunting and shooting, but it was impossible to be envious of such a fine fellow. Late in January, 1916, my son Carey was trans- ferred to the 4th Field Artillery, and went to join 540 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY his new regiment near Brownsville, Texas, going down the river road in his own auto, with a soldier com- panion. My wife and I wished to hurry up the building of the house on our lot on Grayson Street which we had purchased in October, 1915, during a short trip to San Antonio. We wished to get it finished in time to allow us to go and witness the graduating exercises of Mitchell at West Point, and then go on to Eagle River, Wisconsin, for two or three months’ outing among those beautiful lakes where I went in October* 1907, from Chicago, and killed eleven grouse. My retire- ment for age was booked for April 30, 1916, and for the purpose of hurrying the building of our house I got a leave of absence to take effect March 1, 1916. It was hard to leave the regiment which I had com- manded for more than eight years, longer than any other colonel except George Wright, the first colonel, and John H. King, the second. I had some warm friends among the officers of the regiment, and I felt that I was very close to my enlisted men and that I had their sympathetic support always. 1 I had re- frained from getting detached service, in order to remain with my regiment and with it engage in real war. I would not advise any other officer to stick so close to regimental duty as I did. In order to get what he has earned and deserves in the way of promotion, an officer should be well known, personally, to the “powers that be’’ in Washington. It is natural for one to help one’s own friends, and it applies even to the War Department. While on the Rio Grande I felt sure of war with 1 A 9th Infantry Sergeant said of me: “He was the strictest, but the justest Colonel we ever had.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 541 Mexico, when the Navy took Vera Cruz on April 21, 1914, and again when Francisco Villa attacked Colum- bus, New Mexico, on March 9, 1916, and many times between those dates I was exceedingly hopeful, feeling that just cause had been given, over and over again. Before the organized militia was called out following the Columbus incident I requested a briga- dier general’s commission in the volunteers which I was sure would soon be called for, but nothing came of such small affairs. I was thus given lots of time to devote to the building of our house. My wife had ideas about the rooms, closets, stairs, butler’s pantry, kitchen and attic which she wished to see carried out in the ar- rangement of our own house, and I was very willing. Before leaving Laredo my wife had constructed her own scale, and, with no drawing instrument except a ruler and a lead pencil, she drew a fine plan of the house on both floors. We awarded the building con- tract to a friend of my young manhood at old Inde- pendence, Geo. A. Davis, and then for many weeks we watched the house grow. The result was a very commodious and convenient house to live in. We have, since retirement, seen a number of our best friends from the regiment. Rethers, Kinney, Smith, Loeb and Hanson were all, at some time, mem- bers of my regimental staff, and Lewis was a battalion staff officer and my hunting comrade. All of those officers came to see us while the house was being built. And my old regimental sergeant major, Lynch, proved his staunch loyalty by visiting his retired colonel. In addition, we have since retirement seen Carey en route to West Point, N. Y., to instruct “plebes” at the Military Academy, and Mitchell stopped while 542 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY en route to join his regiment in Arizona at the expira- tion of his graduation leave in 1916. Although I have had the bitter disappointment of being retired as a colonel after practically a lifetime of excellent service, I have been very fortunate in getting both my sons appointed to our Military Academy, and to have seen them begin what I hope will be long and honorable careers in the Army. While watching our house grow I was called away to attend the funeral of my brother Will, who died in Houston, Texas, in June, 1916. He named his one son for me, and I named my older boy for him and for my father. After returning in 1902 from the Philippines I in- sured the lives of both of my sons till about their 25th birthdays, in their own favor on maturing, and each in favor of the other in case of death. That was to make sure that both would have something to start life on. My own policy in the Penn Mutual Co. having matured I invested the small amount in acreage prop- erty just outside of Dallas, Texas, close to a country club. My nephew Harry Bondies did it for me. That proved to be a good investment, for the property increased fast in value, and late in 1911 it was sold at such a profit as to give me the means to get a home of my own after retirement, and here I will live the balance of my life. Since writing all the foregoing, excepting several personal references, Germany’s savage and unre- stricted use of submarine warfare has at last driven our President and Congress to declare that a state of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 543 war existed between us and that country. War was declared on April 7, 1917, a date long to be remem- bered in this country. Our President has slowly come to see things in their proper light, both as regards our relations with Germany and our utter inability to hold our own, to the extent that he has really guided Congress to the above declaration of war, and to the introduction in Congress of Bills advocating for the present emergency a selective draft and uni- versal liability to military service while the emergency lasts. Off goes my hat to President Wilson for that! But I still believe that he should have taken a sterner attitude towards Mexico. I will now, in a few days, apply for active duty, and I hope yet to better my military record. CHAPTER XX After waiting a few days to see if any calls for volunteers would be made by the President and seeing none, I made, about April 21st, an official request for active duty with troops, and forwarded with it the report of physical examination by an Army surgeon who had served with me in the Philippines, and very recently at Laredo. Captain Phillips gave me a harder examination than I had ever before been given, all at my request. My blood pressure was unusually good for one of my age, he said. General Pershing was department commander, and I requested of him the command of the recruit and casual camp then run as a part of Fort Sam Houston, stating that if granted that duty I would make no trouble for the Commanding Officer of Fort Sam Houston, my junior in rank. On such condition my request was approved when forwarded to Washington. Before giving a description of my own very unim- portant services in the great World War I will give some of the dates of the events which especially con- cerned us and our Country. The dates are copied from newspapers. 1914 June 28 — Murder of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria at Sarajevo. 644 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 545 July 28 — Austria declared war on Serbia. August 1 — Germany declared war on Russia and invaded Luxemburg. August 3 — Germany declared war on France. August 4 — England declared war on Germany. August 23 — Battle of Mons. September 6— First Battle of the Marne began. September 16 — Russians driven out of East Prussia (beginning of Hindenburg’s fame). Oct. 9 — Germans occupied Antwerp. Dec. 8 — Naval battle of Falkland Islands. December 24 — First German air raid on England. 1915 Feb. 18 — German submarine blockade of England began. Feb. 19— Naval attack on the Dardanelles began. April 17 — Second battle of the Iser; Germans use gas for the first time. May 2 — Russians defeated at the Dunajec. May 7 — The Lusitania sunk. May 23 — Italy declared war on Austria. June 2 — Italians crossed the Isonzo. Oct. 5 — Allies landed at Saloniki. 1916 Feb. 11 — Battle of Verdun begun. May 31 — Jutland naval battle. July 1 — Battle of the Somme begun. Sept. 15 — First appearance of the tanks. 1917 Jan. 21 — Germany announced unrestricted submarine warfare. Feb. 3 — United States severed diplomatic relations with Germany. March 9 — Russian revolution begun. March 12 — Czar of Russia abdicated. 546 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY April 7 — United States declared war on Germany. June 26 — First American troops landed in France. August 19— Italians began drive on the Isonzo. Nov. 6 — Russia seized by the Bolsheviki. Nov. 9 — Italians defeated on the Piave. Dec. 9 — Jerusalem captured by the British. 1918 March 3 — Bolshevik peace signed with Germany at Brest-Litovsk. March 2 — German drive on the Somme began. April 14 — General Foch made commander -in-chief of the allied forces. July 6 — Americans attacked at Chdteau Thierry, beginning allied counter offensive. Aug. 25 — British smashed Hindenburg line. Sept. 12-15 — Americans wiped out the San Mihiel salient. Sept. 30 — Bulgaria surrendered. Oct. 6 — Germany asked President Wilson to arrange an armistice. Oct. 23 — President Wilson sent the German armistice proposals to the allies. Oct. 25 — Italians began offensive on the Piave Oct. 30 — Turkey surrendered. Nov. 3 — Austria surrendered. Nov. 4 — Versailles conference agreed on armistice terms. Nov. 6 — Berlin sent armistice commission to the west front. Nov. 9 — Kaiser abdicated. Nov. 10 — Armistice signed, 12:40 a.m. Prior to our entrance into the war the Germans in their utter contempt for us, had violated our neutrality in almost every conceivable manner. It seemed impos- sible for them to hit our cheek often enough to pro- voke a counter stroke. It may possibly have been A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 547 more just, more patriotic, better in every way for us to have waited so long, but I still believe that we should have entered the war promptly after the sink- ing of the Lusitania, May 7, 1915. The expression of our President, “Too proud to fight,” was well rubbed in on Americans in allied countries before our Presi- dent had made up our minds to fight. He really was slow in following public opinion, and in taking action urgently demanded by the people. After announcing our stand our record was splendid; the American soldier and sailor never did better; we put renewed fighting spirit in the allies, and we showed the Germans that they had woefully misunderstood us. Our assist- ance put an end to the war. But all of that is well set forth in many books, especially in Frank H. Simonds’ great book. My part in the war was so small that I am not entitled to wear any “World War” badge. But I will go ahead with my story. My request for command of the recruit and casual camp having received favorable consideration at Washington I began duty there on May 3, 1917, under the tuition and instruction of Col. Grote Hutcheson, and I remained under him much longer than I believed, and still believe was necessary. In order to avoid the necessity of having to instruct my successor so long I immediately began the preparation of a carefully written description of the duties of every desk in my camp, and my written instructions for each officer and assistant made such duties so easily understood that when I was relieved I did not have to remain with my successor a single day. In that camp were examined and enlisted thousands of men during the next few months, and many casuals were received and forwarded to their proper stations. 548 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I was back on active duty again, but I wished to do real soldier duty and not spend my time with recruits. In the latter part of August, 1917, I was relieved from that duty and ordered to the Agricultural and Me- chanical College of Texas, the same that I served with in 1882 and 1883. I was far from pleased with my new detail, and had evaded the duty when pre- viously suggested to me. With the order to college duty vanished all my hopes of foreign service. On my recommendation Major John Cotter, retired from the 9th Infantry in March, 1909, was given my duties at the camp, and I reported at the college on Sep- tember 7th. My wife joined me there ten days later. The session began on September 18th. I had three assistants in my office and in academic work. Those men were retired non-commissioned officers, and were excellent men. There were also two other retired non-commissioned officers acting as night watchmen, and they were good men, too. I was allowed a stenog- rapher, and she was a good one. I found among the professors one old time friend, Robert Smith, and in Bryan I found Smith’s former chief, Mclnnis, a banker. I was given a good set of quarters and $600 a year by the college. The institution had been greatly enlarged in every way, and the attendance the previous year had been nearly 1200 cadets, all more than 16 years old. The college had accepted the Reserved Officers’ Training Corps system prescribed by General Orders No. 49, W. D. of 1916. The Corps of Cadets was organized as two regiments of 8 companies each, a lieutenant colonel commanding each incomplete regiment and a cadet colonel commanding the cadet corps. The A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 549 college had been for years designated by the War Department as one of the “distinguished” colleges of the United States. An assistant from the Canadian forces was given me, without my solicitation. Captain William Mar- tin was a very pleasant gentleman, and very desir- ous of earning his pay from the college. I had to find something for him to do. I gave him one-third of the time alloted for the practical instruction of cadets, but to do so really hampered me in my effort to comply with the requirements of G. 0. 49. I had him give instruction in recent changes in trench war- fare, as illustrated on the battlefields of France where the Captain had had opportunity to see for himself. He also gave lectures on other subjects, in order to utilize the time allowed him. That Canadian from Winnipeg found our Septem- ber and October weather almost unendurable because of the heat, but I cautioned him to wait a while and we would perhaps give him a few changes in the weather which he might find disagreeable on account of the cold. He laughed at the idea, but I had the laugh on him several times before the winter was over. Capt. Martin was not the first man from the far north to complain of the cold weather of southern Texas. He left us in the spring, to go back and rejoin his comrades in northern France. Capt. Martin’s request for instruction of the more advanced cadets deprived me of the best instructors for the big class of new cadets, but I did the best possible under the circumstances, and systematically progressive instruction was given, in which I took the part of every instructor from corporal to colonel. I found it to be necessary. 550 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY I did not find the drill, instruction and discipline of the cadets as good as I thought they should have been, especially the discipline. I had been there before, and I remembered how I had left it. When the cadets were given ten days’ Christmas leave I took one also, and went to spend five or six days at the ranch of my friend Hardie Jefferies, near Laredo. His ranch is off the railroad some 15 miles, and about 20 from the Rio Grande. Missing some connection along the road I got off the train at Webb a little after daybreak, and was given breakfast by the very kind station agent, and while waiting for Mr. Jefferies’ transportation to arrive on that cold Christmas morning, some fine eggnog followed the breakfast. That was the real old time Southern hospitality, now growing very rare indeed. After a while the buggy came, and I went out to the ranch where I knew that I would not find my friend, for he had written that he and his wife would spend the holidays at Corpus Cristi. I was told that I could run the ranch and the Mexicans there to suit myself, during the absence of my friends; some more fine hospitality which I gratefully appreciated. With the assistance of his best Mexican to show me the deer, I killed two, also some ducks. Mr. Jefferies returned the night before I left, and I had the satis- faction of showing him my game, which I left there for him and his people. I arrived at College Station on New Year’s Eve. A day or two after, in telling some cadets of my good luck I learned that one of them, while hunting near his home on the Guadalupe River had killed two deer at one shot with a rifle. In close cedar timber he had hurriedly fired at a deer which he saw running, and A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 551 then he found two dead deer, one of which he had not seen when firing. It reminded me of my killing two turkeys with one bullet when I saw only one, during my hunt with Col. Shafter on the Nueces River in 1878. Such accidents sometimes happen, but they are very rare. Late in January I was pleased to have my old time comrade from the Philippines, J. W. F. McManus, join me as assistant. Like myself, he was on the retired list. I could give him duties which Capt. Martin was not qualified to perform, and it greatly relieved me to do so. I had been having too much to do. I was now sure that the college would be re- tained in the “distinguished” class, and I so divided my duties as to make it much easier for me. The course described by G. O. 49 called for lots of work. In the fall of 1917 the War Department had insti- tuted a series of training camps for the preparation of officers from civil life and from colleges, and the college was given a quota of 40, which it was easy to find material for among the graduates and old cadets. Early in May, 1918, another quota was as easily filled for another such training camp, and in addition 170 were sent to attend a training camp at Fort Sheri- dan, Ills., which was lengthened so as to finally be- come another training camp for officers. Many who attended that camp obtained commissions at the close of it. About May 19, 1918, I had to go to Houston to be operated on. It was my third operation since retire- ment, all caused by imperfect digestion. When one’s strength begins to fail because of old age, nature never fails to hit again, and then again, gradually pulling one down. While being treated in St. Joseph’s 552 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Infirmary an order came directing me to go and attend the training camp at Fort Sheridan. After about three weeks in the hospital I returned to the college. My wife was with me in Houston. We quickly made our preparations for travel and started for Chicago where I reported to the Department Commander, Major General T. H. Barry, my class- mate whom I had not seen for several years. On his recommendation I had been detailed as an “observer,” with special duty to observe the cadets from the A. & M. College of Texas. I found the camp commanded by Major Edward McCaskey, a retired infantry officer whom I had served with in the Philippines when he was regimental quartermaster of the 21st Infantry at Calamba. McCaskey had worked out and was putting into execution a very comprehensive and progressive pro- gram of instruction for the energetic and enthusiastic collection of about 2500 cadets from all over the coun- try east of the Mississippi. I accompanied him every day in an auto, along the many roads of that vicinity, inspecting the performance of cadets at field problems under the instruction of Army officers. The work was well done. McCaskey’s assistants were, some of them, retired officers, and some were recent graduates from other training camps. One officer was from the battle- fields of France, and could therefore give up-to-date instruction in trench warfare, and he did it. Modern trenches were there in abundance, the work of students of former training camps at that same place. Every day a lady chauffeur from one of the clubs of Chicago, reported to McCaskey for duty, and the intimate knowledge of the network of roads shown by all those uniformed lady chauffeurs was wonderful. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 553 The students of that training camp were seniors and juniors and some other old cadets from various schools where military instruction had been given, and they showed an excellent spirit and desire to learn. Many of them were given commissions at the end of the prolonged encampment. At the end of July, my duties at the training camp being completed, my wife and I went on up to Eagle River, Wisconsin, and stopped at Everett’s, the re- sort I have previously alluded to, and we spent three weeks there. I found many fishermen that I could not compete with, but I enjoyed the sport as much as any. Everett’s Resort is located on both Catfish and Cranberry Lakes, which were connected by a river making a horseshoe bend only about 200 yards across at the narrowest part, right at the resort. The other lakes in the immediate vicinity were Meta, Helen, Big Bass, Seven mile, Carpenter, Scattering Rice and some small ones that I don’t know the names of. In one day’s walk a man could visit all of them. There were 25 to 50 guests at our resort, scattered among the many cottages along the shores of both lakes. Those guests ate their meals at the main lodge where a nice table was set. Most of the lakes were connected and drained by Eagle River, and the others were drained by some bold stream which finally reached the Wisconsin River. I hired a row boat for the entire time of our stay, and I used some boat every day, either with or without a guide. Several times my wife went with us. To hire a guide and an additional boat often, was quite expensive, but there was no other way to do it. The guide did almost everything, including catching most 554 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY of the fish, and he could cook the best fish lunch that I ever tasted. I had never used a reel before, nor had I ever cast a line as it is done today, therefore I was much behind the others in fishing efficiency, but I did my best and made good progress during our stay at Everett’s Resort. I preferred pike, liking that fish’s style of fighting best, also his meat when cooked. Like many another fisherman I allowed my biggest fish to get away. I did not know enough to play the fish and tire him out, but, instead, I was in a hurry and tried to pull him in quickly. Of course the line broke as my big pike went straight for the bottom of the lake. The bass did not act like that but would, instead, come up to the top when well hooked. Only one muscalonge was caught by any one at our resort, and it was not a large one, weighing only about 16 pounds. I started back to the college much sooner than I wished, for the purpose of taking up the work of selecting candidates for the series of continuous training camps ordered by the War Department. We stopped in Chicago several days to continue and finish our treatment by the eye specialist who had been so successful with me in 1907. We had promptly gone to him on our first arrival in Chicago, and now, after more than ample opportunity to study our eyes, the former successful oculist failed utterly, as so many had done before him. After leaving Chicago we stopped at Louisville, Ky., for a few hours, to see Carey who was then a major of the field artillery in the National Army, and one of the instructors at Camp Zachary Taylor, where was located a field artillery training camp. I went out to the camp to see him, and then he came to see us A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 555 at the hotel in Louisville. The boy was doing splen- didly, feeling sure of soon going over to France. We then travelled on homeward, via Memphis and Little Rock, and on arriving at College Station I found lots of work waiting for me, as I had expected. For a month I worked hard at the College, although I knew that I had been relieved from duty there and ordered to duty with Rice Institute, Houston, Texas, begin- ning with September 1st, 1918. On the last of August, 1918, I went to Houston, Texas, and reported for duty with Rice Institute, where the Students Army Training Corps was to be organized. My wife had preceded me several days and had engaged board and lodging. We boarded at one place and lodged across the street, an arrange- ment which proved to be very satisfactory. Our meals were specially good. However, I labored under the disadvantage of living nearly two miles from my place of duty, and that means a great deal at a place where anything is to be military. I found the President of Rice Institute very willing to have me take charge of practically everything military, to my great satisfaction. There had been previously very little military there, but I expected lots of assistance from the 20 or 30 students who had attended that training camp at Fort Sheridan. I found no such help as I had at the A. & M. College, and I had to build up, practically from the bottom, and when school began about the 18th of September, I had more than I could do efficiently. I had to immediately begin the selection of training camp candidates from all kinds of applicants, both student and civilian, and at first I had no help what- ever. That part of my duty, really separate from 556 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY giving military instruction at the institution, occupied a great part of my time during my entire stay at Rice Institute, just as it had done at the A. & M. College. But it was exceedingly important to find material to be put through those training camps upon which our Country was depending so much for junior officers in France. The Students Army Training Corps was the Rice Institute end of the training camp, and under the orders of the War Department it was to be completely organized and go into effect on October 1, 1918, at that and about 500 other schools throughout the country where military instruction was being given by officers of the Army. Quite an interestesting ceremony was to take place at the same time at all those colleges, including the reading of orders from the War Department and the swearing allegiance to the colors, our National flag. During the last two weeks of September seven assistants reported to me, all graduates from training camps, and as fast as they came I put them to work getting out the immense amount of paper work con- nected with physical examination and induction of the students of Rice Institute into the S. A. T. C. We had a civilian physician do the physical exami- nation of the cadets, and by some oversight a sufferer from the early stages of leprosy got by the doctor’s examination and was accepted by him for induction into the S. A. T. C. However, the poor fellow's condition was discovered soon after, and induction prevented. Poor fellow! Queer oversight of the doctor! While we were all very busy with our many duties, and were having all that we could do, the “Spanish A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 557 Influenza” suddenly appeared in the student body, and increased very fast. Evidently our civilian doc- tor had more than he could handle without lots of help, so I telegraphed promptly to the Department Commander a short but full description of conditions, and in less than 24 hours help began to arrive from Fort Sam Houston. In a day or two we had two Army surgeons, eight enlisted men of the Hospital Corps and four female nurses. Practically all of one big dormitory was turned into a hospital and was handled as such, being divided into the various wards showing progress of cases. Thanks to the good han- dling of about two hundred cases of the “flu” we lost only two cadets. One case was a sick cadet who went into a local hospital before the arrival of the surgeon, and the other was a returned convalescent who came back to duty too soon, had a relapse and died after the departure of the surgeon and his assistants. I am sure the second case would not have been lost if the Army surgeon had still been with us. Where we lodged there were two cases of sick with the “flu” out of the six people in the house. No one died. My wife and I did not have the epidemic. Notwithstanding our surgeon’s good handling of the epidemic all academic work was suspended for more than two weeks, including Christmas Holidays, the cadets reporting back for duty, January 2, 1919. Previous to that date the Armistice had been signed on November 10, 1918, to go into effect the next day, and the bottom dropped out of all interest in military matters. The “continuous training camps” lost importance in the eyes of previously impatient candi- dates for commissions as army officers, and by the time the long Christmas leave began, my work in 558 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY connection with such training camps had greatly decreased. For weeks the civilian applicants for those camps had taken up more than half my time, and the Institute was paying me $100 per month for work with cadets. I had organized the Students Army Training Corps into companies and had assigned some of my young assistants to duty with them, also one to duty as supply officer and another as personnel adjutant. The drill was turned over to those graduates from training camps, and they were eager and willing to show what they had learned. The selection of candidates for officers’ training camps from cadets and from civilian applicants was the most important work I performed during my college detail. The War Department had found an excellent method of quickly selecting good material for officers, also an excellent way to quickly beat into new men sufficient military knowledge to justify giving them commissions in the National Army. I hope that all such experience will be still further improved upon the next time. An immense amount of paper work was connected with the selection of those candidates for training camps, besides an actual examination into their educational qualifications. Many papers had to be prepared. Voluminous instructions were furnished from a bureau of the War Department relative to the S. A. T. C., and numerous orders were issued regarding the training camps. Many a time I wished for even one of my old regular assistants at the A. & M. College to help me out with details they were familiar with. When the Armistice was signed some of the candi- dates selected by me had completed the course of A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 559 training camp instruction, some were then attending such camps, and others were waiting their turn to go next. One of the A. & M. College selected candidates commanded his company the last ten days of the Argonne drive, and he wrote to me with justly proud feeling because of that fact. The youngster was one of the six graduates whom I had designated as having shown especial aptitude for the military service, and he thus justified my selection of him. While officer candidates were still being selected for attendance at training camps, orders were received about December 1, 1918, to discontinue such work, and it was done. Then orders came to demobilize the Students Army Training Corps, and muster it out of the service on December 15th. So far as concerned my duties with the cadets of Rice Institute, they were ended when the long Christ- mas holiday began, about December 20th. I there- fore obtained leave of absence for ten days and again I went to hunt with my friends, the Jefferies, near Laredo. They met me with their auto, at Webb, and in less than one hour we were at their nice farm and ranch. Again they turned over to me everything there, and then they went on to Corpus Cristi to spend their holidays with their own people, leaving me to do as I pleased. On the afternoon of the day of my arrival I started out to hunt ducks on the big water tank near the house, wearing my new rubber boots. After going around the tank a couple of times and driving away all the ducks I followed them to another tank, also on Mr. Jefferies’ land and about two and a half miles distant. I discovered after arriving there that new 560 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY rubber boots are not good to walk in, blisters having started on my toes; but I finished the day with only one foot slightly damaged. That night I covered the blistered places with “new skin,” a splendid patent preparation for such an injury. By frequent change of shoes and repeating of the remedy I managed to complete my eight days’ hunt in good condition. Sometimes I hunted alone, and sometimes I took with me Mr. Jefferies’ best Mexican. On account of long continued drouth for several years, game of all kinds had become very scarce. Rats, rabbits and rattlesnakes had disappeared along with the quail, deer and jabalina. I saw only six deer during my hunt, and, strange to say, only one of the six was a female, all the others being large bucks. Jose showed me the buck to shoot, and I did my part. I killed two big bucks, and Mexican workmen killed four more, two of them being caught only a mile or so from the ranch house. The well mounted head of one of my bucks is now on the wall in our dining room, along with two others. I returned by way of Laredo and reached Houston on New Year’s Eve, much refreshed by my ten days’ hard work hunting. Although my work had eased up greatly because of the muster out of the Rice Institute Unit of the Students Army Training Corps, also because of the cessation of selecting civilian candidates for officer training camps, I still had much to do in gathering up the fragments of those duties and wind- ing them up properly, and my hard work in hunting had rested my eyes and brain. So now I waited for orders relieving me and ordering me elsewhere, and I wondered how so many mistakes could possibly have been made in the muster out A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 561 papers which my young assistants had prepared. Those errors had been discovered in Washington already, and I was trying to correct some of them from the records in my office. I I had more time to look around me, and to size up my surroundings. Houston has proved to be a real seaport, and it will receive a great increase of popu- lation on that account. Buffalo Bayou has been deepened and widened, and wharf facilities are being prepared for the handling of the big business which the sea will add to already great prosperity. Down the bayou about 25 miles is the old battlefield of San Jacinto, and from there on it is good hunting and fishing, and there are still a few prairie chickens left on those big prairies. Few places in the United States have better fish and oysters than Houston has. Altogether, Houston offers unusual advantages to the sportsman and outdoor pleasure seeker. ’Tis a close race between San Antonio, Dallas and Houston for first place in population, and I now believe that the growing shipping interests will tip the scales in favor of Houston. On February 11, 1919, we returned to San Antonio and to our own home, in compliance with orders directing me to proceed to my home and report by telegraph to Washington. Thus ended my attempt to resume my career as a soldier. I had in the beginning strong hope of seeing field service in France, and of there earning the advancement in rank which I still thought was in my reach. I thought that my services would be worth more in the field than anywhere else, just as in the past, and I still think so. I did good work in our great “World War” but, 562 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY considering what I had been in the past, that which I actually accomplished made small addition to my fine record. I don’t feel very proud of it. It seemed to me that I had been forgotten, and was considered very much of a “has been,” while I thought that I was still fit for much better work than was given me to do. Nature gave me a very strong constitution, which more than eight years of tropical service has not been able to entirely ruin, as proven by what I have actu- ally done since my discovery of a stomach specialist among civilian doctors in 1907. I have often tried to figure out why I failed to attain higher rank than colonel, which grade is given to any officer who will behave well enough and pass good enough examinations, having health good enough to enable him to do so. During all my service my habits were of the best, my attention to duty much above the average, also my ability to perform whatever was assigned me to do. I was perfectly reliable, and was much trusted by my commanding officers. I could see all that, also that my brother officers expected me to win the coveted star, which is the first promotion given by selection. I had no doubt of it, myself, until only a year or so of active duty remained to me. While prompt and decided in meeting the un- expected, my disposition has been rather cautious, and it is possible that I have been weighed in the balance and found wanting under the old time judgment: “ He either fears his fate too much. Or his desert is small. Who dares not put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.” A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 563 Undoubtedly I must have failed to properly take advantage of some of the opportunities offered me. Few opportunities are so labelled in front as to be easily recognized as such; the great majority of them show their true character only as they disappear in the distance, too late to be taken advantage of. I can remember several occasions when I should have acted differently; few men cannot do that; it is easy to do. On several occasions I have done what I thought was right, instead of being politic, and I did not have time on the active list to live down probable opposition; in fact I was born just ten years too soon, as I used to say to my comrades of the 24th Infantry. I have seen many changes in almost everything pertaining to our Army. I have complied with various orders prescribing changes in our equipment, uniform and weapons. Our drill regulations have been changed about every ten years, conforming to Napoleon’s ideas on that subject. Our fire arms have been greatly improved, also our means of transpor- tation. Our infantry has come into its own, also the field artillery. The machine gun is almost as power- ful on the field of battle as was described by the gifted C. A. L. Totten many years ago, when he prophesied our coming struggle with “The Yellow Peril.” The tank has made good, and, despite our horror of the use of gas in battle, we have a “Chemical Warfare Serv- ice” to keep us even with the other great nations. In trench warfare in France we used shotguns, especi- ally in night work, and I patted myself on the back when I first read of that; I believed in such use so strongly. Our Air Service is wonderful, though still behind that of some other nations, in my opinion, also our development of the submarine. 564 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY We now have dentistry and sanitation added to the already very important duties of the Medical Depart- ment, and within that department there has been much progress, especially since the beginning of the great war. Specialists from civil life have been of great benefit to the military service, during their stay with us, and those that continue in the regular Army after the war will have opportunity to make their improvements permanent. In giving the Medical Department so much admin- istrative and sanitation work have we not made it next to impossible to develop real experts among our regular surgeons? In civil life most of the best sur- geons are as old as those of our service who have practically ceased the practice of medicine and sur- gery for administrative duties and sanitation. I may be in error, but it looks that way to me. It seems to me that our surgeons stop all real work as surgeons and physicians just at the time when they have become most valuable as such. I would recommend the study and duty of sani- tation by line officers, thus relieving our surgeons of much of that sort of work. Study at West Point and in our service schools of the latest text books on Sanitation would, I believe, relieve the situation to a great extent, and thus give our embryo experts time and opportunity to become great in their particular lines. We have made many attempts to simplify and lessen the paper work in the Army, and always with the same result. Just as true now, is that statement of the Board of Officers about 1876, “The paper work in our Army is a great and growing evil,” or words to that effect. All manner of records have become more A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 565 complicated and numerous, with no hope of relief in sight. In the use of the “selective draft,” instead of the old volunteer system, during the war with Germany, we made a great leap in the right direction, and I believe that we will make a big mistake if we do not cling to the idea and practice of universal liability to military service at all times, and not limit it to actual war time. The great war taught even the dullest of us the value of the lesson, and we should not forget it as soon as the war clouds begin to disappear. During the war our people took kindly to that method of raising an army, in the belief that all were being treated alike, and the big majority took the right view that it was only our duty to our Country to serve her on the battle field in time of emergency. Our friends, the Allies, held the Germans off during the long time that we absolutely needed for preparations. The result saved us from a separate conquest by Germany a year or two later. No man of any intelligence can read the daily papers without being convinced of coming trouble between capital and labor, of such a character as to cause the Government to take a hand in it on the side of capital, in order to save the Country from a disaster like that now enveloping Germany, and which has already filled Russia with chaos and misery unutterable. Labor has a right to combine to the extent of mak- ing known its wants and arguing its cause intelligently, but it has no right to interfere by any kind of force with any one wishing to work, or with capital’s efforts to proceed with business. When labor uses violence to injure in any way the 566 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY property of capital, or to prevent other laborers from working, right and justice require the intervention of the Government with all its army and navy if neces- sary, to put down such tyranny. No tyranny can foe so intolerable as that imposed by an ungoverned and ungovernable mob, and that is what labor becomes whenever it gets the upper hand. Our own limited experiences during our strikes, and the terrible happenings in various parts of Europe leave no doubt on the subject. It is easy to see that it is the purpose of Bolshevists and other anarchists to inflame labor to the point of perpetual strike, and thus introduce as much misery as possible, knowing that their cause and their purpose prosper best in misery and chaos and bitter recklessness. We will be lucky indeed if we escape the “class war” which Count Leo Tolstoy has promised us. It is easier to see such danger approaching than it will be to avoid it, and after it has arrived there will be nothing left to combat it but force, which is the only influence that can cope with such a condition. The most exasperating thing about it is the fact that the advocates of reckless socialism and anarchy almost invariably took refuge in our country after finding it too warm in the land of their birth. We have taken the serpent to our breast, and it is biting us. The stand taken by our Government to prevent strikes by the use of injunctions by competent courts, and the recent law enacted by Congress regulating rail- roads, are strong steps in the right direction and they give us hope for other similar action in case of need. It is not believed that the cost of living will go back to conditions that existed before the beginning of the “Great World War.” It is hard to see how we can IN THE YARD OF THE ALAMO — SPRING OF 1920 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 567 avoid a great deal of “race suicide” so long as young men find it so difficult to support themselves. Even before the war began the expenses of living were so great that multitudes of men had to wait till middle age before being able to accumulate enough to justify them in asking the girls of their choice to share life with them. This was on account of the expensive habits of both sexes, but during my lifetime I have not observed the expenses of living become any less except very temporarily, as during some short period of general prosperity. I do not look for many articles to go back to their ante helium prices, and the high cost of living will continue to promote “race suicide.” Race suicide would be greatly discouraged by the strict observ- ance of just laws making the wife’s amount of in- heritance of her dead husband’s property depend upon the question of children; the failure to have any child allowing the widow only the share of brother, or sister. In this connection we are reminded of another prophecy of Tolstoy. In 1910, when he saw so many visions, some of which have already be- come history, he also claimed to see a “partnership of the sexes” take the place of marriage. Is there no suggestion that such a partnership may be practiced a great deal before the lapse of 20 years? Many a woman, and many a man, too, can be found cooking the daily meals, who never cooked before. The amount necessary to pay for the hire and feed of a cook, and for what the cook, if colored, carries off daily in her bundle, makes for many people all the difference in the world between poverty and “easy street.” The lack of that amount will prevent many a man from asking a girl to marry him. 568 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Many girls are now earning their own living, and that adds to their independence, and it does not add to their likelihood of marrying, but it does tend to suggest the possibility of sex partnerships, like those predicted by Tolstoy. Such partnerships will pro- mote race suicide, which is already fast increasing among our people of Anglo-Saxon blood. The mean- ing of such a condition is evident when we remember that the population of France remained almost the same for nearly 50 years while that of Germany doubled during the same period, thus making a single handed struggle between the two nations out of the question. The same question may some day confront us. The Japanese increase fast in population, also the American Negroes. The Constitution has been amended so as to grant the right of suffrage to our women. For many years that has been the goal for which some women have agitated the world. They now have the right of suffrage, but their unrest does not seem any the less. It is not believed that woman’s entry into the field of politics will have any marked influence on politics, which will continue as crooked a game as ever and just as dirty. Woman’s share in politics may tend to increase “race suicide,’’ for she will, if interested in politics, have less time to devote to household duties. Her position has not been elevated by the gift of the right of suffrage. It looks more like coming down to man’s level, and playing with things that belong to the sphere of man. It is believed that the single woman representative in Congress that 7th of April, 1917, was typical of her sex in not being able to face war with Germany. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 569 She was one of the very few that voted against war then, and such will always be the case. I am a Democrat by sympathy with all local and state questions in the South, and in national elections, too, in many cases. I do not understand how a white man who does not make politics his profession can vote the Republican ticket in the South. This is a white man’s country, and it is the Democratic party which does most to make and keep it so. I believe that the floating vote, which usually sides with the Republican Party, and is called “mugwump ” when it does not, is deserving of the highest consider- ation. Of course there must be some “mugwumps” in the Democratic Party also, but we seldom hear of them. Grover Cleveland and Woodrow Whlson were elected by the “mugwumps” of the Republicans who were disgusted with conditions which were growing worse. When united the Republican Party is the stronger, and, until their “mugwumps” feel that the Country needs a change in the White House because of increasing graft and political corruption the President and Congress will be oftenest of that party. I could be a “partisan” in politics only when I am convinced of the superiority of my party, its platform and principles. Nevertheless, I must acknowledge that only partisans accomplish much progress, even in politics. WTien the Socialist vote gets strong enough to put a president in the White House it will be a sad day for our Country. I hope I will not live to see it. I have lately been much encouraged by the attitude of Con- gress towards the labor unions and the “bolshevist” element of socialism. We may be able to stave off 570 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY indefinitely the danger which has done so much dam- age in Europe. That we have become a great nation is not due to the manner in which we bring up our children, but rather in spite of the lack of training given them at any stage of the game. It seems to be taken for granted that the child must be allowed to do as the child pleases, from start to finish, no matter what the little fellow may wish to do. It seems to be taken for granted that the infant’s instinct, or intuition, must be correct, and that it must not be balked. Such a thing as systematic training of a child from birth to manhood, or womanhood, seems to have occurred to very few parents, and those few who attempt such a thing are looked upon as heartless, or hard hearted. As a natural result of the lack of training we see chil- dren indulging in all manner of heedlessness, from the infant in arms to those who should be in school. The rest of the family seem to be expected to give way to, and humor the whim of the year-old child, no matter what that whim may be. And when the boy is old enough to begin the study of what should be his profession, no person in the family seems to have the slightest idea as to what is to be that profession. The parents have been waiting for the boy to select his own profession, and they have done nothing to ascertain what the boy seems to prefer, or what he seems to have special qualifications for. They have, apparently, considered it no business of theirs. The result is, aimless endeavors by the young man to earn a living in any old way. Apparently, parents are willing to acknowledge that the child, no matter what age, knows better than they do, what is best for their child. A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 571 That has not been my idea, and I have put my own idea into practice in bringing up my children, with the result that my conviction is stronger than ever that American parents shamefully neglect the training that should be included in their bringing up of their chil- dren. I believed that, as the father of my boys, I had duties that I could not evade or transfer. I also believed that I had equal rights in the bringing up and training of my own children. I tried to live up to my ideas, and I have never regretted it. Cato the Censor is said to have considered it his most solemn and loving duty to be present at the birth of his child, and to give whatever assistance he could to the mother in her time of greatest need. It is easy for any one to support the old Roman in his conviction, and the man that cannot do something that will help his wife at that time must be a queer fellow, and lacking in something. But, the child being born, and the mother being cared for in the most up to date manner, it is not long before the father begins to have some rights and duties, and they refer to the bringing up and training of the infant. The infant knows much more than is generally supposed, even by parents, and this knowl- edge is used daily and hourly by the little rascal in making the parents, especially the mother, do all sorts of unnecessary things. Some of those things, like making the mother feed him all through the night, rock the cradle, etc, soon wear out both mother and father, and they are not necessary to any child. As previously described, early in this book, I trained my older boy to go to sleep without being rocked when he was only five weeks old, and it required only four or five nights to accomplish it. And when he was 572 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY hardly three months old he was trained not to make his mother get up to feed him at any other than the hours she had fixed, and when I did the training one night that little baby showed plainly that he under- stood perfectly well why I spanked him. One spanking was enough. When I have seen a child strike, or kick the mother, or flatly refuse to obey her with “I won’t,” my hands have itched to administer the kind of training which that child needed so badly. In my house the first sign of rebellion was not followed by a second one. I insisted particularly upon respect and obedience, as much to the mother as to myself, and my influence with my boys was enough to assist satisfactorily their naturally good dispositions in that respect. The games and toys of a child should be selected with reference to useful instruction in something, and then the little fellow should be assisted and instructed. In that manner the child will learn a great deal that will be of immense assistance in early schooling. The child’s books should be selected with the same reference to the future. I wore out one copy of the first book on animal history, showing the pictures and explaining them, and telling stories about some of those same animals. I took my boys many times to see the game markets of Salt Lake City, and the places where we could examine mounted heads and pelts of various animals, and while doing so I would give all the information I could. The little fellows must play, and the season for this and that game takes up the time, and they should be assisted in playing lots of games. If the parents can afford it, the various implements of the various games should be furnished, as the season arrives for any A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 573 particular game. All manner of many exercises should be taught boys, and then they will play tennis, golf, ball and other games with such pleasure as to keep them out of trouble many a time. All the time the parents should be on the lookout for every sign of what seems to be the natural bent of the boy, something showing what he would do best at, or something that he shows pleasure in doing. When anything shows plainly the natural bent of the boy, if it is not bad, instruction should be given him which will assist to develop that natural bent, or talent, and the boy gradually brought to see that he ought to do so and so for a living. If the child and big boy never shows any decided preference for anything, or skill in doing anything other than what the parent knows most about, then the parent should lead the child along such road. In such manner the parent will play a leading part in deciding what his boy should do for a living. The parent should not balk what evidently is the natural bent of the boy, if that bent is honorable and in any way advantageous, but that question will not often arise. A 15 years’ endowment insurance policy, begun when the child is 8 or 9 years old, will give the means to make sure that the grown up son or daughter has something upon which to begin life. The same method, if necessary, may be followed to obtain the necessary funds for the support of the big boy or girl off at school, the policy maturing in time to provide the funds. The endowment insurance policy should be made payable to the parent, and the proceeds on maturity should be applied by the parent in assisting the grown up child at marriage, or in beginning business. 574 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY Economy can never be taught except by the need of money, and without economy, no amount given to a young man who has never experienced such need, will accomplish all the good intended. Lincoln said: “Teach economy. That is the first and highest virtue. It begins with saving money.” Washington, Jackson and McKinley gave advice along similar lines. McKinley mentions the child’s savings bank at home as meaning “more for the future of the children of a family, almost, than all of the advice in the world.” The foundation stone of economy is self-denial, the refraining from the purchase of articles which one would like to have but which are not really necessary for one’s welfare. Any fool can spend all the money he can lay hands on, but it requires the exercise of brains and courage to continually refrain from the purchase of things not absolutely necessary. If one should connect the need of economy with a sense of duty, it would greatly assist one in saving up against “the rainy day” which comes some time to most of us, and more than once to many of us. Gen- eral R. E. Lee said in a letter to one of his sons: “Duty is the sublimest word in our language, etc.” A boy should not be quarrelsome, but it will help him all his life if, in the right, he has had two or three good fights. Parents should repress any tendency towards a quarrelsome disposition, and, at the same time as of equal importance, they should uphold the son whenever in the right, and, if necessary, they should persuade him to withstand manfully all attempts at overbearing. I have read a great deal, especially books of history. My especial admiration has never left the old time A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 575 Spartans, because of their valor in battle, and brevity of speech. I take off my hat to Leonidas and his band at Thermopylae. They could not leave the pass because they were Spartans! Being Spartans they must die there, in order to give an example to the rest of Greece! The only equal example in history was given in 1836, here at the Alamo, by Travis, Crockett, Bowie, Bonham and the rest of that im- mortal band who crossed the line with Travis and died with him. I liked the Spartans best of all the Greeks, and I liked the Greeks better than the Romans. Of all the ancient generals Hannibal has been my favorite, but I know that his success would have been a terrible disaster to the world. The more I have read of the great Julius Caesar, the more I have wondered at his well rounded genius. Not so great a general as Hannibal, in other respects he surpassed him, and averaged up a trifle ahead, the most wonderful man in history. But, all the same, my sympathies have always been with Marcus Brutus, who killed Caesar. I honor Brutus because of his reason for killing the man who had shown him special kindness. Our own George Washington looms up greater with each passing year, not only for his military genius but for his patriotism and broad minded wisdom. I was born in the South, and my reverence goes out to Robert E. Lee as it does to no other man in history. His character has had no equal, and it is well described in his own words, “Duty is the sublimest word in our language.” He declined the highest rank that could have been offered him, because he felt that he could not fight his own state, and he joined what he, better 576 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY than any other man, knew to be a losing cause, because he considered that to be his duty. As a general, and one of the greatest, he accepted responsibility for failure more frankly than ever was done before, or since. Of all books of history I like best Gibbon’s “ Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” Of poetry I like best the noble sentiments and pure morality of Walter Scott’s works. For the same reasons I prefer his novels. Just as interesting but a shade below him I place some of Bulwer’s novels, like “The Last of the Barons” and “Harold.” Historical novels please me best. I think that no other book written by man contains as much wisdom as is found in the works of Shake- speare, and I believe that he wrote his own books. Of books written by Americans I like best those which were written by Washington Irving, Prescott, Motley, Parkman, Roosevelt, and Simonds, historians. Among the novels written by Americans I have found those written by Cooper, L. Wallace, and W. Churchill to be most deserving of commendation. I hope that my countrymen will wake up and read carefully, again and again, Murdock’s History of Ja- pan. It is the best yet written of a remarkable people that now lie directly across our path, and we should know all about them. They have a history, and it is well worth reading. While the Great World War was still going on I read where an eminent German had said, in substance, as follows: “After this war there will be a new line up of the nations. On one side will be the German Empire, the Dual Monarchy, Russia and Japan. On the A COLONEL OF INFANTRY 577 other side will be France, the Anglo-Saxons and their friends.” God forbid that such a conflict should ever take place! The odds against us would be too great. At present Russia is still occupying the back seat handed her during the great war when she went all to pieces, but that great nation is steadily regaining her strength and influence and the time will come when she will make a tremendous effort to regain all the territory that she lost in a war where her side won, partly at her expense. The greater part of Russia’s trade must go to the Germans, her next door neighbors, who were her fellow sufferers in the results of the war, and, some day the Germans will say to Russia, “You fought against us, but you have been pun- ished by your allies worse than we have. Why not join us, and let us each take back all that we lost the last time, and a little more? We’ll get Japan to help us, paying her with as big a slice of China as she wishes. Those of the Moslem religion will also rejoice in an opportunity to retake all the territory taken from them during the past century. Your being our ally will be our reason to see that your supplies of war munitions will never give out, as they did when you fought against us. Come on!” Who can say with confidence that Russia will listen unwillingly? Marshal Foch has said that the German Great Gen- eral Staff suffered from rigidity, lack of imagination, causing such headquarters to remain at Luxembourg during the first great drive and first battle of the Marne, and making it impossible for the great army chiefs to keep up with rapid changes in the series of 578 A COLONEL OF INFANTRY battles around Paris. They had made their plans and things simply had to happen just as they had planned in their superior wisdom. That rigidity, the settled determination of the German after laborious and careful working-out of all the details of a plan, is a mighty fine peculiarity for any people or body of men to possess, and ten to one it will succeed. Our entry into the war was the one feature of it which the plans of the Germans were not able to provide for. Their strategy, up to the allied appointment of Foch to the supreme com- mand, was much superior to that of the allies, who disregarded the first and greatest principle, which requires unity of command and unity of action by all. The allies did not pull together till Foch was made commander of all their armies. We cannot depend upon the Germans to make such a mistake again. We should be strong and healthy as a nation, with nothing eating at the vitals of our body politic, if we expect to last long as a great people. Any reader of history must doubt the future of the United States when he thinks of the millions of people already here whom we cannot assimilate, or make one with our- selves in blood, brains and strength of character. We have already taken too many serpents to our breasts, and it is doubtful if even the strictest sort of an Immigration Bill would now save the situation. However, such a precaution and remedy is indispen- sable, though very tardy in coming. This is the Country of the white man of the Nordic Race, and it will be great only so long as he continues to completely dominate. ^3 •3^ \ V I I Vi 3 ! yV % Ss- if V ■* 1 K. • **s *\\ 1 $ 'fc t- ■^i V 0 s 5W v> Vi ? 5" $ i X i