"Great-Heart": The Life Story of Theodore Roosevelt

VIII
Roosevelt’s Rough Riders

Typical examples of this true American spirit were Theodore Roosevelt and his comrade, Army Surgeon Leonard Wood. Roosevelt saw in Wood a man after his own heart. Wood traced his ancestry back to the “Mayflower”; he was directly descended from Susanna White, whose son, Peregrine White, was the first white child born in New England. Wood was born at Winchester, New Hampshire, on October 9, 1860. His father was Dr. Charles Jewett Wood, who followed the profession of a country doctor. The boy Leonard went to the district school and later attended an old-fashioned academy at Middleboro.

Upon the death of his father in 1880, Wood entered the Harvard Medical School. When he graduated he became an intern at the Boston City Hospital. At twenty-four he began the practice of medicine in Staniford Street, Boston. He was located in a poor neighborhood and had all he could do to make ends meet.

In 1885 he took an examination for admission as a surgeon in the army. He passed second in a competitive class of fifty-nine. His first service was at Fort Warren, Massachusetts. From this post he was ordered to Arizona. Here he met Captain H. L. Lawton of the Fourth Cavalry, who later became Major-General Lawton. The two fought Apaches together. Wood developed into such a good fighting man that before he had been commissioned three months, and while he still held the rank of surgeon, he was given the command of the infantry of the expedition.

While engaged in this work he announced his opinion that a well-trained white man could endure more than an Indian. It became his ambition to prove this so far as he himself was concerned.

General Miles, in forwarding to the War Department his report of Captain Lawton’s expedition against Geronimo, had this to say of Wood:

“He not only fulfilled the duties of his profession in his skillful attention to disabled officers and soldiers, but at times performed satisfactorily the duties of a line officer, and, during the whole extraordinary march, by his example of physical endurance, greatly encouraged others, having voluntarily made many of the longest and most difficult marches on foot.”

After service in Mexico, Los Angeles, New Mexico and other posts, General Wood was ordered to duty as an army surgeon in Washington in 1895. He became a friend of President Cleveland and his family, and later received a summons from President McKinley to become the regular medical adviser to Mrs. McKinley and himself. It was at this time that he met Roosevelt, then Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Their first meeting occurred when they were guests at dinner of the Lowndes family. They were at once attracted to each other. They possessed the same ideals. They went tramping together, ran foot races, scaled steep hills, crossed log bridges and did anything that would increase their strength and endurance.

When the talk of war with Spain arose, the two men became so eager to see active service that President McKinley, who was a close friend to both Wood and Roosevelt, called them “The War Party.” When Wood visited McKinley, the latter would ask: “Have you and Theodore declared war yet?”

General Alger, to whom Wood was also medical adviser, was heartily in favor of the “Rough Rider” regiment, and when Wood was commissioned to raise the regiment and appointed its Colonel, General Alger gave him a desk in his office with the injunction: “Now don’t let me hear from you again until your regiment is raised!”

In the campaign that followed, Roosevelt testified in regard to Wood:

“No soldier could outwalk him, could live with greater indifference on hard and scanty fare, could endure hardship better or do better without sleep.” Others who served under Wood testified that he went through a hail of bullets without fear, that he would walk erect along the line when his soldiers were hugging the ground, and that he would calmly caution his men: “Don’t swear, men. Shoot!”

General Wood’s work as governor of Santiago, and later as governor of the whole island of Cuba, and his still later efforts shoulder to shoulder with Roosevelt to arouse America’s conscience and to make the American army an efficient fighting force, is well known to the American public.

Roosevelt himself, having publicly expressed the opinion that it was the duty of the United States to free Cuba, was intensely eager to back up his words by deeds. The berserker strain in his blood would not permit him to stay at home.

Having submitted his resignation as Assistant Secretary of the Navy on April 16, Roosevelt applied for an appointment on General Fitzhugh Lee’s staff. However, a greater opportunity arose. Congress had authorized the raising of three national volunteer cavalry regiments that were to act independently of the state troops. Secretary of War Alger offered Roosevelt the command of one of these regiments. Roosevelt had had four years membership in the 8th Regiment of the New York State National Guard and had risen to the rank of captain. This was a basis for his military career. He told Alger that after six weeks’ service in the field he felt that he would be competent to handle the regiment, but that he would not know how to equip it or how to get it ready for the first action. He recommended that Wood be given the command, and that he be allowed to serve under him. Alger laughed at his modesty, but the matter ended with Wood being appointed colonel of the regiment while Roosevelt became lieutenant-colonel. The regiment was called the 1st United States Volunteer Cavalry, but the public soon nicknamed it “Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.”

This regiment was to be raised from the states of Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas. It was at first limited to 780 men. Later the number was raised to 1,000. Strong and picturesque was the company that composed the contingent.

During Roosevelt’s stay on his ranch in Dakota he had learned to value the plainsmen as men of great courage and resistance, with bodies in splendid condition for undergoing the hardships of war. They were skilled horsemen; they knew how to use their guns, and they were therefore ideal material for the cavalry. Roosevelt called to them and they came. Along with these cowboys flocked hunters from the backwoods, trappers from the Rockies, Indian fighters and even redskins themselves. Prominent young clubmen of New York and Boston; students of Harvard, Yale, Princeton and other universities; policemen who had served under Roosevelt on the New York police force clamored for places in the regiment. No men were taken, however, until they proved that they possessed ability as horsemen, that they were skilled in the use of the rifle and that they were physically able to endure a strenuous campaign.

The officers were generally selected from men who had been in the regular army, who, having fought against the Apache or the Cheyenne, had ended their terms of service and settled in the Southwest. Other officers were recruited from the ranks of sheriffs and deputy sheriffs, marshals and deputy marshals—men who had waged unceasing warfare against bad Indians or white desperadoes.

The men in the ranks had careers just as adventurous. Some had typical Western names: Cherokee Bill, Happy Jack of Arizona, Bronco Buster, Smoky Moore and Rattlesnake Pete. Professional gamblers mingled with Baptist or Methodist clergymen to the enlightenment of each. One of the gamest fighters was a full-blooded Pawnee named Pollock. Another was a Cherokee.

Some one called the regiment “Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.” The name caught the public’s fancy. It spread from coast to coast and made Roosevelt’s name a household word.

Roosevelt had his work cut out for him in welding the various elements under him into a disciplined unit. He measured fully up to his task. No man was better equipped than he for such a command. In roundups in the Far West, in hunting expeditions, in the political districts of New York City, in clubs and drawing-rooms and in official circles he had met all sorts and conditions of men. He knew how to talk with each class in its own language. He knew how to be friendly and intimate, yet at the same time to keep his dignity and their respect. The men began to obey orders and assume the military manner in a way that aroused their officers’ warmest commendation. They comprehended that without discipline they would be a mere mob, dangerous to themselves and to their country, and, however tiresome were the drills and tactics, they performed them quickly and efficiently.

The relations between officers and men were democratic and friendly, suggesting the relations of our officers and privates during the present war. The Colonel, in his book, “The Rough Riders,” gives several instances of this.

Holderman, the cook, announced dinner to the Colonel and three majors in this way: “If you fellows don’t come soon everything’ll get cold.”

No one rebuked him. A sentinel who had just mastered the manual of arms saluted with great pride as Roosevelt passed; then he added heartily:

“Good evening, Colonel!” This breach of military etiquette the Colonel found it wise to overlook.

Another sentinel, when mosquitoes were bad, slapped at them vigorously, with this side remark to the Colonel:

“Ain’t they bad?”

“That they are!” returned Roosevelt, slapping away in his turn.

The horses for the regiment were brought from the Western ranges. Some of them were so wild that the men were compelled to throw them down and tie them before they could be shod. Others bucked their riders. The regiment, however, was not lacking in men who knew how to tame and handle rebellious broncos, and the splendid horsemanship of the riders resulted in them making their horses perform each maneuver with speed and accuracy. However vicious or restless a horse might be, his rider would force him to stay in line. Naturally, such horsemen and such horses gave the regiment an appearance of dash and ease that excited the admiration of all who saw the skirmish drills.

Colonel Roosevelt’s own mounts came from Texas. While the price paid for them was only $50 each—ridiculously low compared to the high price of horseflesh during the world war—they proved tough and hardy and rendered Roosevelt excellent service.

Colonel Wood and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt were anxious to get their men to the firing line. They knew the regular army would have the most difficult work, and their object was to train and equip their regiment so that its fighting efficiency would gain it a place at the very front. Finally marching orders came. The men cheered and were off.

A big disappointment—though of a minor nature so far as military affairs were concerned—was in store for them. A pity it is to narrate that this body of men were not allowed to show their prowess as horsemen. It developed that, after all, the men were not to be used as mounted soldiers. The blow was an especially hard one to Roosevelt, who had trained his men in shock tactics for use against hostile cavalry. The decision was also a trying one for some of the men who were more at home in the saddle than on foot.

However, the men took the order like good soldiers, and in slouch hats, blue flannel shirts, brown trousers, leggings and boots, with handkerchiefs knotted around their throats, they marched off on the first step of their journey to Cuba.