By Humberto Rodriguez
Continued...
It was but a
short ride from Paralejo to the banks of the eastern side of the river
to the town, once a city of 30,000, now a mere village of perhaps 2000.
It was surrounded by a row of blockhouses the Spaniards had built on
both sides of the stream. These little forts were the first objects to
be seen and their prominence was emphasized by the flames and smoke
still rising as we came into view. The Cubans had set them on fire when
they entered the former metropolis of this once flourishing valley.
We
soon lined up on the bank, and after Gervacio and Lopez had talked to
the guards, we proceeded. We halted in midstream to allow our horses to
drink and to store up a little energy for our final dash into the
presence of the officer in charge of Cuba's military destiny east of
the Jucaro-Moron trocha.*
*(I quote from the newspapers of the
day: "The Cuban generals say the arrival of Lieutenant Rowan aroused
the greatest enthusiasm throughout the Cuban army. There was no notice
of his coming and the first seen of Lieutenant Rowan was as he galloped
up Calle Commercial, followed by the Cuban guides who accompanied
him.")
In a few minutes I was in the presence of General Garcia.
The long and toilsome journey with its many risks, its chances of failure, its chances for death, was over.
I had succeeded.
As
we arrived in front of General Garcia's headquarters the Cuban flag was
hanging lazily over the door from an inclined staff. The method of
reaching the presence of a man to whom one is accredited in such
circumstances was new to me. We formed in line, dismounted together,
and "stood to horse." Gervacio was known to the general, so he advanced
to the door and was admitted. He returned in a short time with General
Garcia, who greeted me cordially and asked me to enter with my
assistente. The general introduced me to his staff — all in clean white
uniforms and wearing side arms — and explained that the delay was
caused by the necessary scrutiny of my credentials from the Cuban junta
at Jamaica, which Gervacio had delivered to him.
There is
humor in everything. I had been described in letters from the junta as
"a man of confidence." The translator had made me "a confidence man."
Following
breakfast we proceeded to business. I explained to General Garcia that
my errand was purely military in its character, although I had left the
United States with diplomatic credentials; that the President and the
War Department desired the latest information respecting the military
situation in Eastern Cuba. (Two other officers had been sent to Central
and Western Cuba, but they were unable to reach their objectives.)
[BB]
Among matters it was imperative for the United States to know were the
positions occupied by the Spanish troops, the condition and number of
the Spanish forces, the character of their officers; especially of
their commanding officers; the morale of the Spanish troops; the
topography of the country, both local and general; communications,
especially the conditions of the roads; in short, any information which
would enable the American general staff to lay out a campaign. Last,
but by no means least, General Garcia's suggestions as to a plan of
campaign, joint or separate, between the Cuban armies and the forces of
the United States. Also I informed him, my government would be glad to
receive the same information respecting the Cuban forces, or as much as
the general saw fit to give. If not incompatible with his plans, I
would like to accompany the Cuban forces in the field in such capacity
as he might see fit to assign me.
General Garcia meditated for
a moment and then withdrew with all the members of his staff excepting
Colonel Garcia, his son, who remained with me. About three o'clock the
general returned and said he had decided to send three officers to the
United States with me. These officers were men who had passed their
lives in Cuba; were trained and tried; all knew the country, and in
their particular capacities could answer all questions likely to be
propounded. Were I to remain months in Cuba I might not be able to make
so complete a report, and as time was the important element, the
quicker the United States government got the information the better it
would be for all concerned.
He went on to explain that his men
needed arms, especially artillery, important in assaulting blockhouses.
In ammunition he was very short, and the many rifles of varied calibre
used made it difficult to get an ample supply. He thought it might be
better to re-arm his men with American rifles in order to simplify that
question.
General Collazo, a noted figure; Colonel Hernandez
and Doctor Vieta, a valued relative who was familiar with the diseases
of the island and the tropics generally, and two sailors, both familiar
with the north coast, would go with us; they might be useful on the
return expedition in case the United States should decide to furnish
the supplies he wanted.
Could I proceed that day — hoy mismo?
Could I ask more?
Could
I ask more? I had been continuously on the move for nine days in all
kinds and conditions of terrain. I would have liked to have had a
chance to look around me in these strange surroundings, but my answer
was as prompt as his question. I simply replied: "Yes sir!"
Why
not? General Garcia by his quick conception and speedy acceptance of
conditions had saved me months of useless toil and had given my country
the means of obtaining as minute information of the existing situation
in the island as that possessed by the Cubans themselves; certainly as
good as the enemy had.
[BB]
For the next two hours I
was the recipient of an informal reception. Then a final meal was
served at five o'clock, and at its conclusion I was told that my escort
was at the door. When I reached the street I was surprised not to see
my former guide and companion in the column. I asked for Gervacio, and
he and the others of the contingent from Jamaica came out. Gervacio
wanted to go with me, but Garcia was adamant; all were needed for
service on the south coast and I was to return by the north. I
expressed to the general my appreciation for the services of Gervacio
and his crew, and the column drafted from the fastnesses of Sierra
Maestra. After a real Latin embrace I broke away and mounted. Three
cheers rang out as we galloped northward.
I had delivered my message to Garcia!
My
journey to General Garcia had been fraught with many dangers, but it
was, compared with my trip back to the United States, by far the more
important, an innocent ramble through a fair country. Going in there
had been little to contend with, for the voyage from Jamaica had been
on pleasant waters, while on the way to the Cuban commander I had been
well guarded and well guided. But war had been declared and the Spanish
were alert. Their soldiers patrolled every mile of shore, their boats
every bay and inlet, the great guns of their forts stood ready to speak
in no uncertain tones to anyone violating the rules of warfare. To all
intents and purposes I was a spy within the enemy lines! Discovery
meant death with one's face to the wall. Nor had I thought of reckoning
with the angry elements of sea and air, which soon were to convince me
that success is not always a matter of fair sailing.
But the
effort must be made and it must be successful, otherwise my mission had
been fruitless. On the happy termination of it might depend, in a large
measure, the carrying to victory of the war.
My companions
shared with me the apprehensions that naturally arose, so it was with
great caution that we proceeded across Cuba, northward, going around
the Spanish position at Cauto-El-Embarcadero, head of navigation on
that river, at least for gunboats, until we came to the bottle-shaped
harbor of Manati, where, on the side opposite, a great fort, bristling
with guns, guarded the entrance.
If only the Spanish soldiery
had known of our presence! But perhaps the very audacity of our
undertaking was our salvation. Who would have suspected that an enemy
on a mission such as was ours, would select such a place from which to
embark?
The boat in which we made the voyage was a
cockleshell, "capacity 104 cubic feet." For sails we had gunnysacks,
pieced together. For rations boiled beef and water. In this craft we
were to sail, and we did sail, 150 miles due north to New Providence,
Nassau Island. Think of putting to sea on hostile waters, patrolled by
swift, well-armed lanchas, in a vessel like that!
[BB]
But "needs be when the devil drives!" It was our only method of fulfilling the full measure of duty.
It
was at once apparent that this boat would not hold the six of us, so
Dr. Vieta was sent back to Bayamo with the escort and the horses, while
five of us prepared to run the gauntlet of Spanish guns and outwit
Spanish gunboats with a craft not much larger than a skiff and with
sails of gunnysacks!
There was a storm raging at the time we
had fixed upon for our departure and we could not venture on the water
while the waves were rolling so fiercely. Yet even in waiting there was
danger! It was the time of the full moon and should the clouds
dissipate with the passing of the gale our presence might be detected.
But the fates were with us!
At
11 o'clock we embarked. With only five aboard the boat was well down in
the water. The ragged clouds rushed like mad things across the face of
the moon, alternately hiding and disclosing us, while four tugged at
the oars and a fifth steered a course. We could not see the fort as we
passed, and that perhaps was the reason we were not seen, but it
required no great stretch of imagination to picture the frowning
muzzles of the great guns and we toiled on, expecting at any moment to
hear the boom of a cannon and the scream of a shot. Our little craft
reeled and tossed like an eggshell and many times we were on the point
of capsizing, but our sailors knew the course, our gunnysack sails
stood the test and soon we were making headway "across the trackless
green."
Weary with the unwonted toil and with nothing to break
the monotony of riding first one wave crest and then another, I fell
asleep sitting bold upright.
But not for long. An immense wave
hit us, nearly filling our boat with water and almost capsizing us.
From that time on there was no sleep for anyone. It was bail, bail,
bail the long night through. Drenched with brine, weary and worn, we
were glad enough to get a glimpse of the sun as it peered through the
haze on the horizon.
"Un vapor, Senores!" (a steamer) cried the steersman.
A feeling of alarm agitated every heart. Suppose it should be a Spanish warship? That would mean short shrift for all of us.
"Dos vapores, tres vapores, Caramba! doce vapores!" cried the steersman, my companions echoing his cries.
Could it be the Spanish fleet?
[BB]
But no, it was the battleships of Admiral Sampson, steaming eastward to attack San Juan del Puerto Rico!
We breathed easier!
All
that day we broiled and bailed, bailed and broiled. Yet no one slept or
relaxed his anxious outlook. Despite the presence of the United States
warships a gunboat might have escaped their vigilance and if so might
overtake and capture us. Night fell on five of the most tired men that
ever lived. We were almost worn out with fatigue, but for us there
could be no rest. With the darkness came the wind again and with the
wind the mighty waves and again it was bail, bail, bail, to keep the
little vessel afloat. It was with feelings of intense relief that on
the next morning, May 7, at about 10 o'clock, we sighted the Curly Keys
at the southern end of Andros Islands of the Bahamas group and right
gladly did we land there for a brief rest.
That afternoon we
overhauled a sponging schooner, with a crew of thirteen Negroes, who
spoke some outlandish gibberish we did not understand, but sign
language is universal, and soon we had made arrangements for a
transfer. This schooner carried a litter of pigs for food and an
accordeon. I never want to hear an accordeon again. Tired almost to the
point of utter exhaustion, I vainly sought sleep but the shrill notes
of that instrument prevented it.
Next afternoon we were
captured by quarantine officials as we turned the east end of New
Providence Island, and were incarcerated at Hog Island, the fiction of
yellow fever in Cuba having given them the excuse.
But next
day I got word to the American consul general, Mr. McLean, and on May
10 he arranged our release. May 11 the schooner Fearless drew near the
wharf and we went aboard.
We had got in behind Florida Keys
when luck deserted us. The wind went down and all day May 12 we lay
becalmed, but at night a breeze came up and on the morning of May 13 we
were in Key West.
That night we took a train for Tampa and there boarded a train for Washington.
We
arrived on schedule time and I reported to Russel A. Alger, secretary
of war, who heard my story and told me to report to General Miles,
taking General Garcia's aids with me. After he had received my report
General Miles wrote the secretary of war: "I also recommend that First
Lieutenant Andrew S. Rowan, 19th U.S. Infantry, be made a
lieutenant-colonel of one of the regiments of immunes. Lieutenant Rowan
made a journey across Cuba, was with the insurgent army with
Lieutenant-General Garcia, and brought most important and valuable
information to the government. This was a most perilous undertaking,
and in my judgement Lieutenant Rowan performed an act of heroism and
cool daring that has rarely been excelled in the annals of warfare."
[BB]
I
attended a meeting of the cabinet a day or so after my return, in
company with General Miles, and at the close I received President
McKinley's congratulations and thanks for the manner in which I had
communicated his wishes to General Garcia and for the value of the
work.
"You have performed a very brave deed!" were his last
words to me, and this was the first time it had occurred to me that I
had done more than my simple duty, the duty of a soldier who: "Is not
to reason why," but to obey his orders.
I had carried my message to Garcia.
Col. Andrew S. Rowan, 1923
Next issue: A Message to Garcia Summary, Part 9 of 9
Humberto
Rodriguez, CLU is a writer, author, programmer, marketer, insurance and
financial consultant. Webmaster of several sites, he teaches you how to
develop, publish and market your own website. Subscribe to his free
newsletter:
http://HRFinancial.com/
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