Skip to main content

Full text of "Experiences of a colonel of infantry"

See other formats


The Experiences of a 
Colonel of Infantry 


Charles Judson Crane 

Colonel U. S. Army (Retired) 

tE$e Uttitfeet&ocfeer $««s 

New York 



R01551 55500 

For My Wipe 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

LYRASIS Members and Sloan Foundation 


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. 



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. . . 3 


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. . . . . -39 


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. ... 70 


Commanding Company. Change of station, marching. 
Pena Colorado and Fort Davis, Texas. Then to Forts 
Sill and Elliott 96 


Commandant of Cadets at the A. &. M. College of Texas. 
At Fort Sill, I. T. again. Horace P. Jones, Indian 
interpreter. Indians, Hunting 130 





Two Trips to Greer County. Regiment ordered to New 
Mexico and Arizona. Service with cavalry. San 
Carlos Indian Agency, in 1888. . . . 159 


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 . . 179 


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 . . . . . . . 236 


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. .... 249 


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. . 257 


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. . . . . . . .275 




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 


Sails for Manila. Passengers and duties aboard. Hono- 
lulu. Manila. Nipa Barracks. Pump Station. 
Appointed Lieutenant Colonel 38th Volunteers. 
Inspector General of General Fred Grant's brigade. 
Skirmishes at and near Bacoor and Imus. 309 


Joins volunteer regiment on the Luneta, Manila. South- 
ern hike. Talisay, Tanuan and Lipa. Cuenca. Ex- 
amining Board at Manila. Trip to Tayabas. 38th 
Volunteers ordered to Ilo Ilo, Panay. . . 326 


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 


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 


Military Secretary, Northern Division. At St. Louis, 
Chicago and San Antonio. Long sick leave. Pro- 


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 432 


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. . . 463 


Port 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. 508 


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. .... 544 


In 1875 . ■ 

. 52 

In 1913 ......... 

. 458 

In the Yard of the Alamo — Spring of 1920 

. 566 


»I | ' UJ-«I I 1J> — I ' J. 

a., ' i ... « ..,, .i - i 'wa ,— n n . - . t 



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 
yeai^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 
Pelany, of Philadelphia, lived a few years in Lancaster, 


Pa., and then moved to Northumberland County, 

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 

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 


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 

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 


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 

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, 


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." 


The reason given in that little song must have 
caused many to run away. I heard that song only 

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 

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. 


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 
Broderiek 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 


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, 

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 


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 sooin 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 

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 


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." 


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. 

War, disease and pestilence ! What else remained 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 



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 


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 Mclntyre, whose brother 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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?" 


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 


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 


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 with 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 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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, -jtict a little 
4w*» After marching a couple of hours without a 
halt I was positive that I saw a party of five or six 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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. 

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 


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 jeans 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 


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. 


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 


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 


prizes were comparatively small also. I bought two 
chances, one dollar each, and watched the big wheel 
go around, stop and drop a piece 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. T>.J&. 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 firs \ 
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. 


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 

Before I go to West Point and say good-bye to my 
home I must say a little more about my boyhood in 

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, 


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, 

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 


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. 


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 


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 


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, 


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 rr to a decimal fraction, and give the 

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. While 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 


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. 


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 

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 


the morning. One man attracted my especial atten- 
tion. He was called by many people " King Richard,' ' 
and I could 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 


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 with 
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 


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 

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 

4 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 


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 tim «u 
between my tenth and twenty-fifth years. Such-a»* 


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 
-lo do with another cadet, and on all unavoidable 
occasions addressing the unfortunate fellow as "Mis- 


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- 


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 


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 Man tinea," 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 


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. 


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 


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. 

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 

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 


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. We 
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 


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 
see the 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 


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 


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 

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. 


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 


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 

The first march out from Fort Clark was a short one, 


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 

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, at the same time 


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 


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 



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 Bullis 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 


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 

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- 


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 


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, we are here and will 

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. Shafter gave his own 
regiment what we requested of him, the nut to crack, 
if there should be one. Our battlion, in skirmish 


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 

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, 
BulhY 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 


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. O. 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 


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." 


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 

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 


"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 


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 corner not far from the bar. 
The two men were seated, side by side, on a bench 
without back or side, and they were 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- 


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 

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 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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 : 


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 


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 


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 

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 Al 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 


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 


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 of 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, Al Roberts, took charge of 
him and put him in jail. 

Then Roberts went to the hospital, with small pox. 


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. 


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 

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 


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 


Geronimo Trevino, a high up major general in their 
army. One day I carried him a letter from Col. 
Shafter, 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 

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 

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 


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. 


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 

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 


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 
prrorie dog leaves, if he has time, and sometimes he 
gets 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 


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 


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. 


From my quarters I often heard, early in the 
morning, in the spring, the call of the chac^laca, 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 chac&laca 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 

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 


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, 

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 


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 was 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 


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. Lea veil came back, mounted, 
and wanted me to take his horse, which of course I 


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. 


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 
Peiia Colorada and Fort Stockton. Lewis Johnson 
went with his company to Fort Concho, via Fort 

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 Pefia 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 


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. 
Pefia 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. We 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 half 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. 


Pullman and his troop of the 8th Cavalry, also Lieut. 
Shunk with Bullis's Seminole Negro Indian Scouts. 

Some of the supplies at Pefia 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 


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. 


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. fvtHt 

While we waited, not very patiently, for 'jjJBJjE 
i Digmiwity to 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, &gBX&\\ < 
""Digttwjwily* 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 


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 

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' 


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 

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 


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 was 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 


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 

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, 

"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 


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 


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 


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 
Gains ville, 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. Ware 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 


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. 


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 

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 


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 transportal ion 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 

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. 


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 

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. 


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. 

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 


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 were 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 


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 


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 

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 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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 

After about nine months' service at Fort Elliott I 


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. 


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. 



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 


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 

"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, 

"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 partof this AprilFools' 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 

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. 


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, 


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, 

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 

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 


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, get! 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 


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 


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 

At the commencement exercises of the A. &. M. 
College the military features were always the most 
attractive to the visiting people. At both com- 


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 

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 


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 


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 

My captain, then absent, was B. M. Custer, who 


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 

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 


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 


contains at least three counties of the state of 

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 

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." 


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 CD. 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 


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. 


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, 

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 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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 

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 


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 


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 u^. 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 


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 Williams 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 


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 


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- 


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 

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 


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, 


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, 1883; 
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 


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. 



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 

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 


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 another.'" The truth of 
it was that George had not taken good care of his 


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. 


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. 


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 

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 


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 


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 forwarded it on to Sill. 

Finally, after staying at Anadarko till the Kiowas 


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 


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. 


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 


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. 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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. 


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: 


"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 


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 work. 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 


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, 



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 

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 


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 


Monument and had pounded him good with his fists, 
causing Stuart to stay in the cadet hospital several 

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. 


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. 


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. 


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- 


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 "Who comes there?" and then I heard the 


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 


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- 


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 


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 par-tents. 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. 


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 


recollection, where he succeeded in killing and bring- 
ing to land a huge specimen of the water reptile, half 

Nearly all of Col. Bliss's time in the military service 
was spent in the southwest, and about half of it in 

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 want 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 was 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, 


there was no excuse whatever for his conduct on that 

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 


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 


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. 


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 

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. 


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 

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 


quaint humor that made him a very agreeable com- 

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 Western 
Union office, in this way relaying our messages. 

On the date in question both soldiers who were on 


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. 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 
O. 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 

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 


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. 


He said, "All right, but you ought to be at home 

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 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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. 


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. 


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 


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 news. 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. 


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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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. 


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- 


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 


getting a sprained foot as my share of the fun. I 
exchanged him for an animal that I could ride any- 

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 

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- 


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 1 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 


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 


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 


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 

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 Biddies, 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 


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 


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 


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 fot 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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 we were not long in learning that the 
drill and conduct of our men had made an excellent 
impression, as compared with former garrisons. The 



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, 


besides giving the best appetite for the swimmer 

We were not long in visiting the Mormon Taber- 
nacle, an immense building with 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 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 


been a very successful one, so far as concerned the 
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. 


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 willow 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 stilJ 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 


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 

Utah had much unoccupied country, in fact almost 


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, 


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 


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 


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 

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 

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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 

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, 



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 Cold water, 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 

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. 


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 


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." 


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 acknowledge 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 

"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 


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- 


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- 

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. 


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." 


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 Pefia 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 



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. 


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, 


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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 Be v." 
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- 


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 

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 


Soldier, without and then with arms, and I had them 
recite twice a day on what they were being taught 

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. 


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 


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 

"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 


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 back, around 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, 


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 with 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, with 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 


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 teW 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 


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 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 was 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. 


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 


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 

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. 


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 



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 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 

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 

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- 


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 was 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 


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, TJ. 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. 


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 was 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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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. August in. 

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- 


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 


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 

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 Mayari 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 


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 


feeling between my colored soldiers and the Cuban 
colored people who composed about four fifths of the 
population of the eastern half 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. 


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 
Mayari 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 



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 

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. 


Headquarters Department of Santiago, 
Santiago de Cuba, 

April 25, 1899. 

Colonel Crane, 
^ 9th U. S. V. Infy. 

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 

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 

Very respectfully, 

(Signed) Leonard Wood, 

Major General TJ. 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. 


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 


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. 


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 IT. 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 War 
Department on the same subject. The engineer 
captain remained in command of Camp Meade. I 


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 

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 


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 

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 


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, 


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 

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, was 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 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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 

The City of Para was a rough ship, and we had some 
weather which gave her an opportunity to roll and 


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. 


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 



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 

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 


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 

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 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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- 


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, 
Parafiaque, Las Pifias, 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 


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 

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, 


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 

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 

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 


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 

Now and then one of our men would be hit, and 


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. We 
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. 


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 what was 
almost a parade ground movement executed under 

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 


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 


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. Bufy I was 
ordered, by telegraph, to submit additional report 
suggesting the remedy, and I did so, promptly. 


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 

One day, at Bacoor, the enlisted men of the 14th 
Infantry brought to the headquarters a man whom 


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 

"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. 


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. 


From our camp on the Luneta, early in January, 
1900, the 38th Volunteers marched at night to 
Parafiaque, Las Pifias and Bacoor. I drew Las Pifias 
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 



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 


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 


the Infantry, was with Lieut. Mervin Buckey, 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 


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, 


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 


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 


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, Batangas and Tayabas was intended to pave 
the way for a small shower of stars, and that we got 


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. 


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 

toRosario (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. 

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 ouMide 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 


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 


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- 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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 


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 


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- 


f ectly 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 

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 


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 himself, 
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 


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. 


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 


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 onenon- 


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 


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- 


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 


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 


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 

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 


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 Sefior 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 


our grandf atherly 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. 


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 Ilo, Panay, for service under Brigadier General 



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. 


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 Ho 
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 pifia 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 
Was that not a single man of my command suffered 


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 


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 

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 

Major Guy V. Henry, Jr., with his battalion of the 


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 Ilo 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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 


Quentin Salas. That was really the only house 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 


take me 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 
75 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 


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 


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 alJ 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 


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 


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. 


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 

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. 


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 


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 

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 
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 we 
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 


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 


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 


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 

I knew that the money could not be safer and I so 
informed the young commissary officer, telling him 
of my acquaintance with 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 always 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 what 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 
what 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 


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 


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. DeWare 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 


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 


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 Ilo 
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 


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 Ihem 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 


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 


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 well, 
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 


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 28th. 

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- 


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 

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 thought. 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 


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 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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 


the Ti&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 


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. 


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 
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 



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 

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 


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, 


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 


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. "Pifia" 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. Pifla 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 


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 : 


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. 


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, 


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- 


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 Ilo 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 


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 


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 


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 


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. 

I desire to invite your special attention to the fitness 
of Major C. J. Crane, U. S. Infantry, for the duties 


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 

This was a good test of his preparedness to assume 
responsibilities that would have caused hesitation in 
a large majority of men. 

Very Respectfullv, 

(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 


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. 

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, walked into my office, and 
could not keep back his surprised speech on seeing me 
there, "What! You here! How did you get so far 

But I did not remind the War Department of the 
"mistake," and continued to enjoy every day of my 


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 

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 

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 


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. 


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 

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 


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 


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- 


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 

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- 


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 


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 


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 

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- 


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 

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 


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, 


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 


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 


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 Forto 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- 
tive 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 


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. 


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. 



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 

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 


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 


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 

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 


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 

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 f nnri irThoifrluawonfrfivva.y I had 


4i)ccB r ablo to o btain no informati o n ac to what Army ' 

Vwwipitol T cVimiM pntP^ in r*>.A*v..Ux Qai roliftf frtnTvi .my 

-4fsease?«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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 we 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 

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. 


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. 


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 

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 


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, 


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 we 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 


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 my 
a beautiful piece of ground just outside of the citfe) 
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 

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 


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 

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 4«? 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 


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, 


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 


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, 


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. 


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 


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 


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 military ser- 
vice have been given by Australia, Argentina 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. 


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- 

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 


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. 


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 


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 

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, 


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. 


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- 

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 



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. 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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, 



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 

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 


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, 
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 





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 


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 


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 


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 words 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. 


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. 


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 who protected his 
own property so well was sentenced to many years in 

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, 


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 

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 


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 

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- 


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 


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. According to their 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." 


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, 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 Ilo to act in that capacity, and I stayed while 
there with my Lieut. Col. Abner Pickering. At Ilo Ilo 


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 

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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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, 


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- 

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 



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. 


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 Grifiis', "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. 


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 


to it when half ripe, as ours have. I ate lots of 
half ripe ones there, peeling the fruit as apples are 

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. 


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 bjj my 
men. Not even a protest was made. My men dis- 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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 


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 


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. 


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 

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- 



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 


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 


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 


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, 


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 


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 

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, 


including those just mentioned. He was junior to 
Major Duncan, and was always a loyal, willing 

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 


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. 


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 

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. 


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 Vera 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. 


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, 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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 


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 


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 

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 


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. 


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 22nd the Mexican garrison began queer 


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 


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 

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 


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 SO 


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. 


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 


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, 1 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 


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 

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- 


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. 


(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 calls der Crown Prince in, 
Und say to him, "Mein Son, 
I tinks we go und licks der vorldt, 
Dot gifs 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. 


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 


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 

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. 


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- 


fortably housed, and treated very kindly and 

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 


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 


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 


his new regiment near Brownsville, Texas, going down 
the river road in his own auto, with a soldier com- 

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." 


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 


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 


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. 


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. 


June 28 — Murder of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of 
Austria at Sarajevo. 



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. 


Feb. 18 — German submarine blockade of England 

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. 


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. 


Jan. 21 — Germany announced unrestricted submarine 

Feb. 3 — United States severed diplomatic relations 

with Germany. 
March 9 — Russian revolution begun. 
March 12 — Czar of Russia abdicated. 


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. 


March 3 — Bolshevik peace signed with Germany at 

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 Ch&teau Thierry, 

beginning allied counter offensive. 
Aug. 25 — British smashed Hindenburg line. 
Sept. 12-15 — Americans wiped out the San Mihiel 

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 

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 


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. 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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 

While we were all very busy with our many duties, 
and were having all that we could do, the "Spanish 


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 


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 


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 


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 

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 


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 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, 


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 

" 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." 


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. 


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 

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 


complicated and numerous, with no hope of relief in 

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 


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 be 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 



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. 


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. 


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 Wilson 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 

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 

When 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 


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. 


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 


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 


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. 


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 


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 Csesar, 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 Csesar. 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 


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 

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 

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 


other side will be France, the Anglo-Saxons and their 

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 

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 


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. 

RQ1251 B25D0 

ROiHSi ae*oo