Part 50

During this interval of time important business had called me to Washington, and I only returned to Cuba some time during the second week of April, when the diary commences with, "strong talk of war."

LEAVING HAVANA.

It is needless to say that the strong talk went on--well or ill, wise or unwise, welcome or unwelcome--it went on. Evidently the blockade was near at hand and a declaration of war liable to follow. What should one do but to ask counsel of all within reach? I have given the result of my interview with the Spanish authorities; cabling to American authorities brings the answer, "The consul should know best. Take no chances." Reference to the consul brings the kindly reply, "I am going myself." The order was for all American citizens to leave Havana, and the order was obeyed, but not without having laid the matter formally in counsel before my staff of assistants and taking their opinion and advice, which was to the effect that while personally they would prefer to remain for the chance of the little good that might be accomplished, in view of the distress which we should give our friends at home, and, in fact, the whole country, when it should be known that we were inside that wall of fire that would confront us, with no way of extricating or reaching us, it seemed both wiser and more humane to leave. And the ninth of April saw us again on shipboard, a party of twenty, bound for Tampa. We would not, however, go beyond, but made headquarters there, remaining within easy call of any need there might be for us. Here follow the few weeks of impending war. Do we need to live them over? Do we even want to recall them? Days when the elder men of thought and memory pondered deeply and questioned much! When the mother, patriot though she were, uttered her sentiments through choking voice and tender, trembling words, and the young men, caring nothing, fearing nothing, rushed gallantly on to doom and to death! To how many households, alas, these days recall themselves in tones never to be forgotten!

Notwithstanding all this excitement and confusion and all the pressure that weighed upon him, our good President still remembered the suffering, dying reconcentrados, and requested that a ship be provided as quickly as possible loaded from the warerooms of the indefatigable Cuban Relief Committee in New York, and be sent for the relief of the sufferers in Cuba whenever they could be reached. One need not say with what promptness this committee acted, and I was informed that the "State of Texas" laden with fourteen hundred tons of food would shortly leave New York en route for Key West, and it was the desire of that committee and the Government that I take command of the ship, and with my staff and such assistants as I would select, undertake the getting of that food to its destination.

Some members of the staff were in New York, and with Dr. Hubbell in charge sailed from that port on Saturday, the twenty-third of April. A hasty trip from Washington, gathering up the waiting staff at Tampa, and pushing on by the earliest train brought us to Key West in time to meet the "State of Texas" as she arrived, board her and take charge of the snug little ship that was henceforth to take its place in American history. She was well built, but by no means new, nor handsome. Her dull black hull could in no way compare with the snow white, green and red striped hospital ships, those heralds of relief that afterwards graced the waters of that bay. Still she was firm, sound, heavy-laden, and gave promise of some good to someone at some future day, that day being only when the great war monsters should have pealed out to the world that an entrance was made on the coast of Cuba, and we would be invited to follow.

By the authorities at Washington, the "State of Texas" had been consigned to the protection of the navy, and accordingly we must report our arrival. This was done to the senior officer, representing Admiral Sampson, in the port, Captain Harrington, of the monitor "Puritan." This brought at once a personal call from the captain with an invitation to our entire staff to visit his beautiful ship the following day. The launch of the "Puritan" was sent to take us, and not only was the ship inspected, but the dainties of his elegant tea table as well.

When all was over the graceful launch returned us safely to our ship, with grateful memories on the part of the younger members of our company, who had never chanced to form an intimate acquaintance with a piece of shipping at once so beautiful and so terrible, as that death-dealing engine of destruction. I record this visit and courtesy on the part of Captain Harrington as the first of an unfailing series of kindnesses extended by the navy to the Red Cross from first to last. There was no favor too great, no courtesy too high to be cheerfully rendered on every occasion.

The memories of pitiful Cuba would not leave us, and, knowing that under our decks were fourteen hundred tons of food, for the want of which its people were dying, the impulse to reach them grew very strong, and a letter was addressed to Admiral Sampson.

This brought immediately the launch of the "New York" to the side of our ship, and Captain Chadwick, the gallant officer whom no one forgets, stepped lightly on board to deliver the written message from the admiral, or rather to take me to the "New York." Nothing could have exceeded the courtesy of the admiral, but we were acting from entirely opposite standpoints. I had been requested to take a ship, and by every means in my power get food into Cuba. He, on the other hand, had been commanded to take a fleet, and by every means in his power keep food out of Cuba. When one compared the two ships lying side by side and thought of a contest of effort between them, the situation was ludicrous, and yet the admiral did not absolutely refuse to give me a flag of truce and attempt an entrance into Havana; but he disapproved it, feared the results for me and acting in accordance with _his_ highest wisdom and best judgment, I felt it to be my place to wait. By the concurrence of the admiral our letters were both given to the public, and appear elsewhere in these pages, and we remained, as we had been, neighbors and friends.

These days of waiting were by no means lost time. The accidents constantly occurring in a harbor filled with transports, kept the surgeons of the Red Cross constantly in active duty, while the twenty or thirty Spanish ships which had been and were being captured as prizes, lay a few miles out, unprovided either by themselves or their captors. They had been picked up whilst out at sea, some of them having no knowledge of the existence of a war and supposing themselves as safe as in the balmiest days of peace. Most of them were provided with a little open well in the bottom of the ship where live fish were kept. But for this provision, it is by no means certain that deaths from starvation would not have occurred. The ships were mainly little Spanish vessels--their crews honest working men, who knew their ships and the hills and harbors of Spain and Cuba, and little else--could speak no word of any language but their own--our people, unused to privateering or to the treatment of captives, forgot to provide them, and thus they waited, living on the few fish in their holds, with neither meat, lard, butter, nor oil for their cooking, nor vegetables, nor bread as accompaniments. Our men learned this state of things, and naturally attended to it. It is enough for me to say that recently the thanks of all Spain, through its Red Cross, has come back to us for the kindnesses rendered her captive seamen.

The days waxed and waned; the summer sun poured its burning rays down on the glistening waters of the bay; the reveille and tattoo warned us that we were in camp, with the little difference between land and sea--waiting for some onward movement.

TAMPA.

Tampa became the gathering point of the army. Its camps filled like magic, first with regulars, then volunteers, as if the fiery torch of Duncraigen had spread over the hills and prairies of America; the great ships gathered in the waters; the monitors, grim and terrible, seemed striving to hide their heads among the surging waves; the transports, with decks dark with human life, passed in and out, and the great monarchs of the sea held ever their commanding sway. It seemed a strange thing, this gathering for war. Thirty years of peace had made it strange to all save the veterans, with their gray beards, and the silver-haired matrons of the days of the old war, long passed into history. Could it be possible that we were to learn this anew? Were men again to fall, and women weep? Were the youth of this generation to gain that experience their fathers had gained, to live the war lives they had lived, and die the deaths they had died? Here was abundant food for reflection, while one waited through the days and watched the passing events.

At length the fleet moved on, and we prepared to move with, or rather after, it. The quest on which it had gone and the route it had taken bordered something on the mystery shrouding the days when Sherman marched to the sea. Where were the Spanish fleets? and what would be the result when found and met? and where were we to break that Cuban wall and let us in? Always present in our minds were the food we carried, the willing hands that waited, and the perishing thousands that needed. We knew the great hospital ships were fitting for the care of the men of both army and navy. Surely they could have no need of us, and the knowledge that our cargo was not adapted to army hospital use brought no regret to us.

These days of quiet waiting were like the lull that precedes the storm. The time seemed long regarded only from that standpoint, but when it is remembered that these few days were all that had been allowed for a great nation with thirty years of peace to rouse up and plunge itself into a war, the time seems comparatively short. We had taken possession of our ship at Key West on the twenty-ninth of April; it was now the twentieth of June, and the great national records of two countries at least will always give the history of those days. It is our part to keep as clearly, truthfully and kindly as possible the record of the little that fell to us to perform in this great drama. Our arrangements for putting out to sea were quickly made. Such supplies and such persons as were not to go with us must be landed and left. Among the latter, to our deep and lasting regret, was our charming friend, Mrs. J. Addison Porter, who had kindly passed the last weeks with us, leaving us as she did, however, with the comforting promise to return if she should find it possible.

All preliminaries arranged, at ten o'clock, the twentieth of June we weighed anchor at Key West and steamed for the open sea, having first taken the official advice of Commodore Remie, commanding the navy at that point, to find Admiral Sampson and report to him.

The twenty-fifth gave us our first view of the water of Santiago. Our transports and battleships were gathered there, and the advice of Admiral Sampson was that we proceed to Guantanamo, where the marines had made a landing and were camped on the shore. There had been some fighting at Guantanamo. The "Solace" was there. Its harbor was fine, and the run of forty miles was made by noon of that day. Whoever has enjoyed the quiet, sheltered harbor of Guantanamo will not require to be reminded of it--protected on three sides by beautifully wooded hills. At six o'clock our anchors sunk in the deep still waters, and we had time to look about us and see for the first time the beginning of the war. The marines were camped diagonally along the brow of a beautiful hill. On our right a camp of Cubans, and all about us the great monsters with their protruding guns which told of forthcoming trouble. Captain McCalla, who was in command of Guantanamo, had sent compliments and a launch pointing out our place of anchorage.

The courtesies of the navy, so early commenced at Key West, were promptly continued. At eight o'clock we received a visit from Commander Dunlap of the "Solace" which, after a long and cordial interview, closed by his proposing to send his launch at ten o'clock the following day to take our entire company for a visit to the "Solace" and its fifty wounded men. If that beautiful ship or its management had left room on the records of our country's mead of gratitude for more words of appreciative praise, I should be glad to speak them. Only those familiar with the earliest history of the Red Cross in our country and the methods by which our navy alone of all the Red Cross nations had gained even an approximately legal place, can judge what the sight of that first naval relief ship on our American waters was to me. It brought back so vividly the memory of the day when President Arthur called me to him to carefully explain the conditions of the treaty which he had just signed in 1881, and that Congress, having generously included the navy in its treaty for war, he would provide to hold it carefully until the probable widening of the original treaty would include the _navies_ of the world as well as the armies. I was thankful for the _modus vivendi_, which I knew was as welcome to Spain as to ourselves, that had made it possible to pick up these poor wounded sailors and given them kindly care among their own, that there were not to be left uncared for, or thrown into land hospitals where everything would be strange to them. My twenty or thirty assistants glided about the polished decks of the magnificent ship, with a kindly greeting for every poor, wounded fellow, and delighted with everything they saw. For me, I had few words, prayerful gratitude, and many memories of the long years of patient waiting that had brought the American Red Cross even up to the point it had attained.

Before the day closed news came to us of a more serious character than we had before learned. The daring Rough Riders had been hardly dealt by; Hamilton Fish and Capron had been killed, and the wounded needed help. Wherever they might be, it must be possible to reach them, and it was decided that no time be lost. Our men commenced work in the hold of the ship to get at medical supplies and dressings, and the captain took his orders. I find in my diary at the close of that day the following paragraph:

"It is the Rough Riders we go to, and the relief may be also rough; but it will be _ready_. A better body of helpers could scarcely be gotten together."

Nine o'clock of the same night, June 26, found us in Siboney and anchored in its waters, which can scarcely be called a harbor. It seems to be rather an indenture in the coast. Shall I be pardoned if I again revert to the diary which, by some means, I found time to hastily pencil:

SIBONEY, CUBA, _June 27, 1898_.

We were wakened at daybreak to see the soldiers filing up over the hill in heavy marching order, forming in lines by ones and twos, winding up, in and out among the hills, higher and higher, like a great anaconda. As we watched them through a glass, they were a moving line trailing on toward the clouds, till lost in the mist, and we can only think as we look at them, on how many or on which is set the mark of death, He knows no more than we, poor fellow, and unthinkingly, perhaps, with his swinging, careless gait, toils up and up and waits for--he knows not what.

The hospitals, both American and Cuban, are located on the shore just to the right of us, and have been visited by our men during the night. Some of their surgeons called on us; all seemed interested in the Red Cross, but none thought that a woman nurse would be in place in a soldier's hospital; indeed, very much out of place. I suggested that that decision was hard for me, for I had spent a great deal of time there myself. They appeared to understand that perfectly, or were so polite as not to criticise it, but there seemed to be a _later_ line which could not be crossed. The Cubans, who had just come into camp, were less conventional and expressed a great desire for any assistance we could give them. "Sister Bettina" and her four trained "Sisters," Drs. Egan and Hubbell went ashore to the hospitals. This had been proposed the evening before at General Garcia's headquarters; but they were begged to wait just one day until their hospital could be in a little better order. These "Sisters" were not the persons to grant that day of preparation. On the contrary, we were told that as soon as they were fairly in the wards they commenced putting things into order and cleanliness, and worked through the day without interruption, coming home only after dark, tired it must be, but fresh and happy, full of the conviction of a work well done. Long before that day's work was ended our own American hospitals alongside commenced to be jealous of the Cubans, and believed that they had spoken first. Be that as it might, we were equally forgetful, and from that time no distinction between the hospitals was known.

Dr. Lesser, Mr. Kennan and Mr. Elwell tramped, for there was no other mode of conveyance, to our advance line within three miles of Santiago. They found the artillery up and things nearly ready for attack, which it was thought would be on the following Wednesday.

The sea grew wild and rough; the water was too deep for firm anchorage, and we rocked at such a fearful rate that in pity for the pale faces about me, I begged the captain to draw as near the shore as possible and let, at least, a portion of them onto the land. Let them have, if only a few minutes, the solid ground under their feet. He drew up to within two or three hundred feet of the cliff which runs around like a firm sea wall, and succeeded in anchoring; took a boat and tried to land some of our people, but there were no wharves; the poor little seven by nine bench, designated as a wharf, running out into the sea, against which the boats swung and crashed as they tried to land supplies, was all there was, except the narrow beach with a heavy surf. Our people declined the landing, and headsick, heartsick and seasick returned to the ship.

We had been long without news from the United States; but the next day brought the following dispatch from the New York Cuban Relief Committee:

Cobb sails Wednesday with Red Cross supply boat. All articles requested by her will be shipped. The launch will be towed from Jacksonville. Do you want additional nurses? Five hundred tons provisions and clothing, also three ambulances complete, shipped to Key West warehouse this week from New York. Send "State of Texas" to New York as soon as can be spared. Cobb with Red Cross boat expects to reach Guantanamo July 5 to 10. Massachusetts relief ship cannot sail before middle of July. Will dispatch schooner with ice within a fortnight. Make your requisitions specific in kind and quantity.

This was only one of the scores of dispatches reaching us within the few following weeks, and I repeat it here, not as having any special significance, excepting to show the uncertainty and utter instability of all human calculations. Analyzing this kind-hearted and well-meant dispatch in the light of the future, we find that neither the Red Cross supply boat, the steam launch, the Massachusetts relief ship, nor the additional nurses ever reached us. The ice schooner proved to be the "Mary E. Morse," of which mention is made elsewhere. The five hundred tons of provisions shipped to the Key West warehouse were distributed there. I name this, not in any spirit of complaint--far from it, indeed--but simply to show still further and make more apparent, if possible, the difficulties attendant upon all work at a field of war. Those who have seen only this one war will find these uncertainties and shortcomings very strange, and unaccountable; to me, who had seen other wars, they seemed natural, probably largely inevitable, and quite the thing to be expected, the fatal results of which misfortunes I had spent half my lifetime in instituting measures to prevent or lessen.

We were honored next day by a call from an officer of the "Olivette," with his assistant. It is not singular, in the light of the great, elegant, newly-fitted ship at his command, that it was difficult for him to realize the use or the necessity of an unpretending little black boat like the "State of Texas," or of what service it could be expected to be to an army. We labored to impress upon him the fact that this ship did not come for the war, but was loaded and dispatched weeks before there was any war, and simply waited an opportunity to deliver its cargo to the hungry and naked reconcentrados for whom they were designed. This explanation we hoped would make it apparent to the gentleman, how it was, that our supplies of clothing would not be likely to contain the articles of which he said his ship was in want; it probably never having entered into the minds of our sympathetic generous lady donors of America to provide _pajamas_ for Cuban women. Anything we _had_ was freely at his service. If we made any attempt at _conversion_ (which I do not now recall), it was simply on the line of a better understanding of Red Cross methods and principles as connected with his profession, and _not_ a change of heart.

With the constant reminders of the sufferings of the people on shore and our inability to reach them, it was a welcome errand brought by a dispatch boat that afternoon from Captain McCalla, that if we could get five thousand rations to him before the next Thursday morning, he could find a way to deliver them to the refugee families of insurgents and others lying out in the hills and woods beyond his camp at Guantanamo, where they had fled for safety. We steamed at once to Guantanamo and landed the rations next morning, returning to Siboney the same afternoon. The next day our working force was busy all day getting off material to refugees coming in from the mountains. General Garcia detailed a detachment to repair pontoons for the purpose of landing the supplies. Captain McCalla cabled for twenty thousand rations for refugees, to be delivered at Guantanamo by Sunday.

Our Red Cross sisters and surgeons were all busy at the Cuban Hospital, when the following letter from Major Le Garde was received:

TO MISS CLARA BARTON, _President American National Red Cross_:

I have the honor to request your assistance in caring for the patients in a so-called hospital near the landing at this point. The orders are to the effect that all patients now under treatment on the shore shall be transferred to the "Iroquois" and "Olivette," but the facilities for carrying out this order are apparently inadequate. In order that the Divisional Hospital may remain unhampered for the care of the wounded in the engagement about to take place, it is necessary for me to request this favor of you, and I trust that you may find it possible to comply with said request.

Your obedient servant, LOUIS A. LE GARDE, _Major and Surgeon, U.S.A., Commanding Hospital_.

To this the following reply was immediately returned:

STEAMSHIP "STATE OF TEXAS," SIBONEY, SANTIAGO DE CUBA, _June 30, 1898_.

DR. LOUIS A. LE GARDE, _Major and Surgeon, U.S.A., Commanding Hospital_: