Chapter 23

Captain Capron's field guns opened fire upon the southern field at El Caney and the hill resounded with echoes. 15 Then followed the rattle of the musketry of the attacking invaders. The firing in our front burst forth and the battle was on.

The artillery duel began and in company with foreign military attachés and correspondents we all sat watching the effect of the shots as men witness any friendly athletic contest, eagerly trying to locate the enemy's smokeless batteries. A force of insurgents near the old Sugar Mill applauded at the explosion of each firing charge, apparently 5 caring for little except the noise.

Now and then a slug of iron fell among the surrounding bushes or buried itself deep in the ground near us. Finally a projectile from an unseen Spanish gun disabled a Hotchkiss piece, wounded two cavalrymen, and smashed into the 10 old Sugar Mill in our rear, whereupon the terrorized insurgents fled and were not seen again near the firing line until the battle was over.

When the Tenth Cavalry arrived at the crossing of San Juan River our observation balloon had become lodged in 15 the treetops above and the enemy had just begun to make a target of it. A converging fire upon all the works within range opened upon us that was terrible in its effect. Our mounted officers dismounted and the men stripped off at the roadside everything possible and prepared for business. 20

We were posted for a time in the bed of the stream directly under the balloon, and stood in the water to our waists awaiting orders to deploy. Standing there under that galling fire of exploding shrapnel and deadly Mauser bullets the minutes seemed like hours. General Wheeler 25 and a part of his staff stood mounted a few minutes in the middle of the stream. Just as I raised my hand to salute in moving up the stream to post the leading squadron of my regiment, a piece of bursting shell struck between his horse's feet and covered us both with water. 30

Pursuant to orders, with myself as guide, the second squadron of the Tenth forced its way through wire fence and almost impenetrable thicket to its position. The regiment was soon deployed as skirmishers in an opening across the river to the right of the road and, our line being partly visible from the enemy's position, their fire was turned upon us and we had to lie down in the grass a few 5 minutes for safety. Two officers of the regiment were wounded; here and there were frequent calls for the surgeon, but no order came to move forward. Whatever may have been the intention of the commanding general as to the part to be played by the cavalry division on that day, the 10 officers present were not long in deciding the part their command should play, and the advance began.

White regiments, black regiments, regulars and rough riders, representing the young manhood of the North and South, fought shoulder to shoulder unmindful of race or 15 color, unmindful of whether commanded by an ex-Confederate or not, and mindful only of their common duty as Americans.

Through streams, tall grass, tropical undergrowth, under barbed-wire fences and over wire entanglements, regardless 20 of casualties, up the hill to the right this gallant advance was made. As we appeared on the crest we found the Spaniards retreating only to take up a new position farther on, spitefully firing as they retired and only yielding their ground inch by inch. 25

Our troopers halted and lay down for a moment to get a breath and in the face of continued volleys soon formed for attack on the blockhouses and intrenchments on the second hill. This attack was supported by troops including some of the Tenth who had originally moved to the left 30 toward this second hill and had worked their way in groups, slipping through the tall grass and bushes, crawling when casualties came too often, courageously facing a sleet of bullets, and now hugging the steep southern declivity ready to spring forward the few remaining yards into the teeth of the enemy. The fire from the Spanish position had doubled in intensity until the popping of their rifles 5 made a continuous roar. There was a moment's lull and our line moved forward to the charge across the valley separating the two hills. Once begun it continued dauntless in its steady, dogged, persistent advance until like a mighty resistless torrent it dashed triumphant over the 10 crest of the hill, and firing a final volley at the vanishing foe, planted the regimental colors on the enemy's breastworks and the Stars and Stripes over the blockhouse on San Juan Hill to stay.

This was a time for rejoicing. It was glorious. 15

--_From an address given in Chicago, November 27, 1898._

1. When was the Spanish-American War fought? Why? What were its greatest battles? Tell how each of the following figured in this war: Dewey, Sampson, Schley, Shafter, Wheeler, Roosevelt.

2. Imagine yourself in Lieutenant Pershing's place on the field of battle. Describe the engagement.

3. Report briefly from notes taken on outside reading on the battle of Manila Bay, or the cruise of the _Oregon_, or the destruction of the Spanish fleet off Santiago.

4. General John Joseph Pershing was born in Missouri, September 13, 1860. He was graduated from the West Point Military Academy; served in a number of Indian campaigns, was a military instructor; served with the Tenth Cavalry in the Cuban campaign, 1898, and in the Philippines, 1899-1903; commanded the U. S. troops in pursuit of the bandit Villa in Mexico in 1916; was in command of the American Expeditionary Forces in the World War. If possible, read an account of Pershing's early life and report on it in class.

BURIAL OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE

BY GERALD M. DWYER

This is part of a letter home from Private Dwyer, Co. A, 121st Engineers, A. E. F. It is used here by permission of _The Springfield (Mass) Republican_.

Even far behind the lines of battle, in this beautiful France, little scenes take place which bring home to one the seriousness and sadness of life. Picture to yourself a dark-green hillside divided into sections by the hedge fences which the French peasant makes so much use of. 5 In one of these fields soldiers are at work making roads and little pathways. At one end are a number of flower-covered mounds, each one marked with a wooden cross, for this particular little field is one of the American Expeditionary Force's cemeteries. 10

On the day which I have in mind, a drizzling rain comes softly, though steadily, down. A number of soldiers, hardly distinguishable from the mud in which they are working, are busy leveling off the ground around a flagpole which stands in the center of the cemetery. Presently they stop 15 work and stand listening to the drumbeats which can be heard faintly in the distance. The little group gathers about the flagpole, waiting.

Slowly up the roadway comes a procession headed by the band playing the sweetly solemn funeral march. Behind 20 it is carried a plain wooden box, draped with the Stars and Stripes, while a firing squad marches in the rear. They stop at a newly dug grave and gently lower the coffin. In clear, concise tones the chaplain reads the funeral service. A mist seems to creep up from the valley and wisps of it wind themselves through the air. In the neighboring field the sheep who have been grazing huddle together and gaze, as only sheep can, at the performance going on near them. Like the sheep, the soldiers in the cemetery gather closer to each 5 other, each one's eyes filled with tears, and each one conscious of a queer sensation going on within him. . . .

Now the chaplain has finished, the members of the firing squad take their places. A dead silence ensues, broken by the shots of their rifles. Two more salvos are fired and the 10 ceremony is finished. Finally, when the mist has become very dense, the clear notes of the bugle ring out, blowing taps for a soldier's last farewell sleep.

You will never really appreciate the beauty and pathos of the notes of taps unless you have heard them while lying 15 on your hard bunk some night at the end of a hard day. The music seems to say that some day things will be peaceful again, all these hardships will be merely incidents to laugh over in the happy days to come. And so, singing its farewell to you, the notes die away, leaving you to slip into 20 the balm of sleep.

The grave has now been covered and the procession and workers gone. The fields and valley seem forsaken and alone in the late afternoon. But no, there by the graves, flitting through the rain in their capes and hoods, and looking 25 like so many little sparrows, are some little French girls, daughters of the near-by peasants. Tenderly their little hands decorate the newest grave with flowers, their tribute to one who risked all for the safety of little maidens. Thus the grave is left, heaped with green branches and flowers, a 30 pretty resting place.

--_The Springfield Republican._

_OUR COUNTRY_

_Of old sat Freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights, She heard the torrents meet.

There in her place she did rejoice, Self-gathered in her prophet mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind.

Then stepped she down through town and field To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men revealed The fullness of her face._

--ALFRED TENNYSON.

AMERICA FOR ME

BY HENRY VAN DYKE

Doctor van Dyke (1852-) is a noted clergyman, writer, and educator. He has long been connected with Princeton University. From 1913-1917, during the trying period of the World War, he was United States minister to Holland. His many visits to Europe have served only to increase his devotion to his native land. The following poem is a fine expression of the genuine homesickness of the traveled scholar for his own country. You should read it and re-read it until it has sung itself into your memory.

(From _The Poems of Henry van Dyke_. Copyright, 1920, by Charles Scribner's Sons.)

'Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings-- But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things. 5

_So it's home again, and home again, America for me! My heart is turning home again, and there I long to be, In the land of youth and freedom beyond the ocean bars, Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars._

Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air; 10 And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair; And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome; But when it comes to living, there is no place like home.

I like the German fir woods, in green battalions drilled; I like the gardens of Versailles with flashing fountains filled; But, oh, to take your hand, my dear, and ramble for a day In the friendly western woodland where Nature has her 5 way!

I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack; The Past is too much with her, and the people looking back; But the glory of the Present is to make the Future free,-- 10 We love our land for what she is and what she is to be.

_Oh, it's home again, and home again, America for me! I want a ship that's westward bound to plow the rolling sea, To the blessed Land of Room Enough beyond the ocean bars, 15 Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars._

1. How many places are mentioned by name? Tell what and where each is.

2. What does the author admire in the Old World? What does he mean by his distinction between London and Paris? List the things the author misses in the Old World. How is America contrasted with Europe? Explain line 15, page 334.

3. Report on other writings of Dr. van Dyke. Which of his outdoor books do you know?

* * * * *

Love thou thy land, with love far-brought From out the storied Past, and used Within the Present, but transfused Through future time by power of thought.

--_Alfred Tennyson._

WARREN'S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL

BY JOHN PIERPONT

Stand! the ground's your own, my braves! Will ye give it up to slaves? Will ye look for greener graves? Hope ye mercy still? What's the mercy despots feel? 5 Hear it in that battle peal! Read it on yon bristling steel! Ask it--ye who will!

Fear ye foes who kill for hire? Will ye to your homes retire? 10 Look behind you! they're afire! And, before you, see Who have done it! From the vale On they come!--and will ye quail?-- Leaden rain and iron hail 15 Let their welcome be!

In the God of battles trust! Die we may--and die we must; But, oh, where can dust to dust Be consigned so well, 20 As where heaven its dews shall shed On the martyred patriot's bed, And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell?

WHAT IS AN AMERICAN?

BY HECTOR SAINT JEAN DE CRÈVEC[OE]UR

De Crèvec[oe]ur (1731-1813) was a French writer who emigrated to America at the age of twenty-three. He settled on a farm near the City of New York, and came to know many of the great men of his day. For instance, he had the friendship of Washington and Franklin. France appointed him as her consul at New York. In 1782 Crèvec[oe]ur published his _Letters of an American Farmer_. As this extract shows, it is almost prophetic in its insight into the future.

What then is the American, this new man? He is either a European, or the descendant of a European, hence that strange mixture of blood which you will find in no other country. I could point out to you a family whose grandfather was an Englishman, whose wife was 5 Dutch, whose son married a French woman, and whose present four sons have now four wives of different nations.

An American is he who, leaving behind him all his ancient prejudices and manners, receives new ones from the new mode of life he has embraced, the new government he 10 obeys, and the new rank he holds. He becomes an American by being received in the broad lap of our great Alma Mater. Here individuals of all nations are melted into a new race of men, whose labors and posterity will one day cause great changes in the world. Americans are the western 15 pilgrims, who are carrying along with them that great mass of arts, sciences, vigor, and industry which began long since in the East; they will finish the great circle.

The Americans were once scattered all over Europe; in America they are incorporated into one of the finest systems of population which has ever appeared, and which will hereafter become distinct by the power of the different climates they inhabit. The American ought therefore to love his country much better than that wherein either he 5 or his forefathers were born. Here the rewards of his industry follow with equal steps the progress of his labor; his labor is founded on the basis of nature, self-interest. Can it want a stronger allurement?

Women and children, who before in vain demanded a 10 morsel of bread, now gladly help their men folk to clear those fields whence exuberant crops are to arise to feed and to clothe them all, without any part being claimed either by a despotic prince, a rich abbot, or a mighty lord.

Religion demands but little of the American: a small 15 voluntary salary to the minister, and gratitude to God. Can he refuse these?

The American is a new man, who acts upon new principles; he must therefore entertain new ideas and form new opinions. From involuntary idleness, servile dependence, 20 penury, and useless labor, he has passed to toils of a very different nature, rewarded by ample subsistence.--This is an American.

--_Letters of an American Farmer._

1. What is Crèvec[oe]ur's definition of an American? How would you define an American to-day?

2. Explain lines 15-18, on page 336. What does the last clause of the sentence mean?

3. What reasons does the author give for a great love of country on the part of Americans? Do these reasons still hold good?

4. Explain: Alma Mater, posterity, allurement, voluntary, servile, penury, subsistence.

THE RISING OF '76

BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ

Read this selection entirely through before stopping to inquire the meaning of puzzling passages. Then re-read it for the references not previously clear to you. A final reading should enable you to get the fullness of the author's meaning. On your first reading you should be able to determine generally when the events took place, where, and what happened.

Out of the North the wild news came, Far flashing on its wings of flame, Swift as the boreal light that flies At midnight through the startled skies. And there was tumult in the air, 5 The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat And through the wide land everywhere The answering tread of hurrying feet; While the first oath of Freedom's gun Came on the blast of Lexington; 10 And Concord, roused, no longer tame, Forgot her old baptismal name, Made bare her patriot arm of power, And swelled the discord of the hour.

Within its shade of elm and oak 15 The church of Berkeley Manor stood; There Sunday found the rural folk, And some esteemed of gentle blood. In vain their feet with loitering tread Passed mid the graves where rank is naught; All could not read the lesson taught In that republic of the dead.

How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk, The vale with peace and sunshine full, 5 Where all the happy people walk, Decked in their homespun flax and wool! Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom, And every maid, with simple art, Wears on her breast, like her own heart, 10 A bud whose depths are all perfume; While every garment's gentle stir Is breathing rose and lavender.

The pastor came: his snowy locks Hallowed his brow of thought and care; 15 And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks, He led into the house of prayer. The pastor rose; the prayer was strong; The psalm was warrior David's song; The text, a few short words of might,-- 20 "The Lord of hosts shall arm the right!"

He spoke of wrongs too long endured, Of sacred rights to be secured; Then from his patriot tongue of flame The startling words for Freedom came. 25 The stirring sentences he spake Compelled the heart to glow or quake, And rising on his theme's broad wing, And grasping in his nervous hand The imaginary battle brand, In face of death he dared to fling Defiance to a tyrant king. 5

Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed In eloquence of attitude, Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher; Then swept his kindling glance of fire From startled pew to breathless choir; 10 When suddenly his mantle wide His hands impatient flung aside, And lo! he met their wondering eyes Complete in all a warrior's guise.

A moment there was awful pause,-- 15 When Berkeley cried, "Cease, traitor! Cease! God's temple is the house of peace!" The other shouted, "Nay, not so, When God is with our righteous cause; His holiest places then are ours, 20 His temples are our forts and towers That frown upon the tyrant foe; In this, the dawn of Freedom's day, There is a time to fight and pray!"

And now before the open door-- 25 The warrior priest had ordered so-- The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er, Its long reverberating blow, So loud and clear, it seemed the ear Of dusty death must wake and hear; And there the startling drum and fife Fired the living with fiercer life.

While overhead, with wild increase, 5 Forgetting its ancient toll of peace, The great bell swung as ne'er before. It seemed as it would never cease; And every word its ardor flung From off its jubilant iron tongue 10 Was, "War! War! War!"

"Who dares?"--this was the patriot's cry, As striding from the desk he came,-- "Come out with me, in Freedom's name, For her to live, for her to die?" 15 A hundred hands flung up reply, A hundred voices answered, "I."

1. Explain the following references in the first stanza: "the North"; "wild news"; "boreal light"; "first oath of Freedom's gun"; "Concord . . . forgot her old baptismal name."

2. Where does this story begin? What is the purpose of the first stanza? Where is the scene laid? What is the date of the action? Who was Berkeley? What occurs?

3. What other dramatic Revolutionary War episodes do you know? Name three other Revolutionary War poems.

4. Thomas Buchanan Read (1822-1872) was a Pennsylvanian by birth. His interests in art and literature took him abroad, and he spent several years in Italy. A number of his poems and paintings are highly esteemed.

OUR OWN COUNTRY

BY JAMES MONTGOMERY