The Rough Rider (12 page)

The four of them entered the dining room and sat down to the luncheon. Mark bowed his head and asked the blessing. As soon as he had finished, Alice began speaking of the war.

“Isn’t it just terribly exciting? The war, I mean!”

“A little bit depressing, if you ask me,” Mark shrugged. He picked up a fork and nibbled at the salad on his plate, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s going to be a tough go of it, I think.”

“Oh, Mr. Winslow, you can’t mean that!” Alice said, her eyes sparkling. “We’ve got to teach those Spaniards a lesson!”

Lewis ate slowly as he listened to Alice go on about the war. He knew she was impulsive about her ideas, but he was
drawn to her, just the same. She was wearing a beautifully designed gown. The dress had a bodice cut in the Eton shape, with a skirt that fit closely over her hips and fell in folds to the ground. The jacket was fit to her figure with a high satin collar and wide satin revers. The small bonnet she was wearing was one of the new styles, topped with small ostrich feathers.
Probably cost more than Dad makes in a month!
Lewis thought as he surveyed her outfit.

Lola was listening carefully as Alice began to speak of the importance of the war to free the Cubans. She was aware that Alice Cates was one of the most eligible young women in New York, and she could not understand what had sparked Alice’s sudden interest in Lewis. They had only met a few weeks before. At one time, after Lewis had brought Alice for dinner, Lola had said to Mark, “He’s just a poor young man with no prominent family, so I can’t understand why she’s after him.”

“Don’t you?” Mark had replied. “I think she’s using all her charm to turn Lewis into her pet volunteer.” When Lola had expressed surprise, he’d gone on to explain. “She wants a soldier going to the front—one she can call all her own. The bugles are going to start blowing and the flags will be waving. Sooner or later there’s going to be an army leaving. I think she’s been reading some silly novels about what war is like.”

Now as Lola listened to Alice, so enthralled with the adventure of war, Lola became convinced that Mark was right.
Lewis needs to be careful,
she thought.
He’s idealistic enough, and with this girl fanning the flames, there’s no telling what he might do!

The afternoon was pleasant enough, except for the fact that Lola now clearly saw how infatuated Lewis was with the girl. After the couple left, headed back for a ride across the Brooklyn Bridge upon Alice’s insistence, Mark and Lola walked slowly along the border of the flower garden, speaking of the issue.

“I’m worried about Lewis,” Lola said. “He’s old enough to know better, but he’s acting like a foolish teenager.”

“I think he’s been pretty well protected from life. Davis and Belle live in an academic atmosphere, and they’ve raised their boys that way.”

“But Aaron’s broken out of it—running off to the Klondike.”

“I think he’s a different sort of fellow. Aaron’s always been rash and headstrong.” Mark put his arm around her and whispered, “Like all of us Winslow men—just like I was when I stole you away.”

Lola was pleased with his foolishness. It was something that she’d had to cultivate, for when they were first married he had been far too serious. She reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed him, saying, “You are a handsome thing—just like that silly girl said! I thought so the first time I saw you.”

“No, you didn’t. I was locked up in that dirty Mexican jail. You’ve just romanticized that time—it was pretty rough.”

Lola thought back to the time when they had escaped from Texas—she from an abusive brother-in-law and Mark from an unjust jail sentence. They had gone through a great deal of hard times during the building of the Union Pacific Railroad. Now she reached over, took his hand, and said, “I know it was hard, but look what it did for us. It made us one more than anything else. Hard times do that, Mark.” She hesitated for some time, turning it over and over in her mind, then said, “I think this is Lewis’s first time out on his own, so to speak. He’s never seen a young woman as enticing as Alice. She’s spoiled, aggressive, and not like the college girls he’s used to.”

“She’s bound and determined to get this war going—and to influence as many men to get involved as she can.” Mark’s lean face grew solemn. He thought of his sister Belle, and said at once, “I’ve got to talk to Belle. I don’t think she and Davis have any idea of Lewis’s foolish notions. I doubt if
Lewis has said anything about this war to them. I’ll try to talk to him, too.”

“That’ll be good, dear,” Lola said quietly, but something inside her told her it would do little good to talk to their young nephew. She had a feeling Lewis could be very headstrong if pushed on the issue. “He’s in love, or thinks he is,” she said quietly. “And when a young man’s in love for the first time, words won’t do much to change him.”

“But the war would,” Mark said grimly. “It could get him killed—and that’s why we have to try to protect him.”

****

If the war had simmered down, or the threat of it, things might have been different. There was always the possibility that diplomacy might prevail and that the Spanish Court might bend itself to meet the American demands, but certain events at home and abroad changed all of that.

On April 19, after a week of intense debate, the House and Senate passed a joint resolution: “ . . . for the recognition of independence for the people of Cuba, demanding that the government of Spain relinquish its authority and government on the island of Cuba and Cuban waters and directing that the President of the United States use the land and naval forces of the United States to carry these resolutions into effect.”

When the resolution was passed, all that remained was for President McKinley to sign it. After that, a state of war between the United States and Spain would be in effect. He did so and the wheels of war began to roll more rapidly.

The North Atlantic Squadron, under command of Admiral Simpson, formed off Key West and headed for Havana. At about three o’clock one afternoon, the dark medieval towers of Morro Castle loomed ahead. The blockade of Havana was in place—and the Spanish-American War had begun.

****

Commodore Dewey’s squadron swung at its moorings on
gentle waves in Mirs Bay, a small inlet on the Chinese coast. The fleet was small, consisting of only seven warships, and some military strategists wondered if a force that small could accomplish anything. Dewey wrote in his diary early in the morning: “The prevailing impression is that our squadron is going to certain destruction. In the Hong Kong club, it was not possible to get bets, even with heavy odds, that our expedition would be a success. One of the British officers said at our sailing, ‘A fine set of fellows, but unhappily, we shall never see them again.’ ”

Dewey knew there were some forty naval Spanish vessels in and around Manila. The coastal defenses that were in place seemed formidable. And the Island of Corregidor stood as a fortified sentry guarding the broad entrance to Manila Bay. There were reports that batteries of five- and six-inch guns had been installed there, commanding the entire entrance to the bay. Rumor had it that the bay was full of submerged mines waiting for an incursion of any kind. All in all, the entire invasion seemed a dangerous and foolish undertaking. But as the Asiatic Squadron steamed out into the South China Sea, there were no doubts in the heart or mind of Commodore Dewey. He was a leathery character, exactly the right kind of man to lead a naval squadron against such odds.

The American fleet slipped through the waters under the cover of darkness off the coast of Luzon. Dewey saw at once, however, that the Spanish Fleet was fully armed and waiting for them. “Now we have them,” he said. “We shall enter Manila Bay and you will follow the movement of the Flag Ship which will lead.”

Lieutenant William Winder, Dewey’s nephew, spoke with the commodore after the meeting. “Sir, let me lead my ship through the channel. If she goes down, you’ll be safe. It’s the one chance I have to become famous.”

Dewey smiled and shook his head. “No, Billy, I’ve waited for sixty years for this opportunity, and as much as I like you, mines or no mines, I’m leading the squadron in myself.”

Dewey led the
Olympia
inside Manila Bay. A battery on shore opened up, and artillery rounds whistled around the heads of the sailors on deck. The guns of the fleet returned the fire and the Asiatic Squadron moved ahead. When dawn broke on the horizon, Dewey looked through his binoculars and saw the cluster of black hulls and lofty spars. It was almost five o’clock and daylight was slowly spreading across the bay. “Take her along the fire line, Mr. Catkins. Be careful not to run her aground.” The squadron continued to advance, its guns silent. At 5:40
A.M
., the
Olympia
had approached within two and a half miles of the enemy vessels. Dewey turned to the warship commander and gave the order that would put his name in every American history book: “You may fire when you are ready, Gridley!”

The American squadron steamed past the Spanish line, half hidden by the clouds of gunfire belching from its own guns. Thick clouds of smoke rolled up from burning ships and the losses were terrible. The Spanish gunners, ill-trained and low on ammunition, could barely return a spasmodic fire. Dewey led the fleet carefully and courageously through the blockades. Finally the enemy batteries could not answer the fire any longer. The Battle of Manila Bay was won and America had a new hero—Commodore George Dewey.

****

The American newspapers blazoned the victory at Manila, and at every street corner newsies stood with their bundle of papers and shouted, “Victory Complete! Glorious, the
Maine
Is Avenged!” The country went wild as the news spread. Roosevelt’s final act of insubordination was to release Dewey’s telegram to the newspapers. Roosevelt had just been commissioned a Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S.’s first volunteer cavalry, an outfit that was soon to be known as the Rough Riders.

While the country sang the praises of Commodore Dewey,
young men from all over the country began clamoring for a place in the army that began to take shape.

Lewis Winslow was one of these enthusiastic young men. At the urging of Alice Cates, he went to find a recruiting office. When he signed his name, he felt a sense of pride well up inside him. He felt himself the most fortunate of young men to be able to risk his life in a glorious adventure. He was an idealistic individual, and though he knew that Alice Cates was instrumental in his enlistment, he was no less convinced that it was his duty as an American to lay his life on the line for his country. He could do no less, for his father had put his life on the line for the North so many years ago during a long and bloody war. He did not think of being killed or disabled—instead his mind was full of the glorious adventure that lay ahead of him.

When he walked out of the recruiting office, he hailed a cab and headed for Alice’s home. Not long after, he pulled up in front of the large estate. Expecting to see the butler when the door opened, he was surprised to see Alice’s mother standing there. She was polite at his request to see Alice, but her whole demeanor made Lewis feel that once again he did not meet her “standards” for her daughter.

Alice was coming down the large double stairs that led to the second floor. He looked up and, with pride in his voice, said, “I’ve enlisted, Alice. I’m going to Cuba.”

Running the rest of the way down the stairs, she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

CHAPTER SIX

A Surprising Invitation

Carried away by a wave of euphoria such as he’d never known, Lewis Winslow started each new day with a sense of excitement. He spent every evening with Alice Cates, who was thrilled to escort her “soldier” from one mansion to another. The thought had occurred to him once that with every new introduction, she was only presenting him as some sort of exhibition. She often introduced him as “My brave soldier!” It troubled him somewhat, but her flashing eyes and colored cheeks and obvious pride in his new profession-in-arms quickly dismissed any doubts or misgivings he had.

On one of the few nights he was not with Alice, he had accepted a dinner invitation from Esther. After the meal, his uncle Mark sat him down in the library and, for over an hour, tried to reason with Lewis about his sudden decision to join the army. Lewis respected Mark Winslow greatly, but his uncle’s logic had little effect on the excitement that had built up in him over the last few weeks.

“Don’t you see, Uncle Mark—I’ve
got
to go!” Lewis exclaimed fervently. “You’ve read the stories of how the poor Cubans have been hunted down like animals. The Spanish are tyrants and the oppression has got to be stopped!”

Mark Winslow patiently tried to explain that much of the furor raised by the persecution of Cuban peasants had been the result of zealous front-page articles written in the papers of Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst. Despite his efforts, however, Mark could not dissuade his stubborn
nephew. When Lewis left, Mark turned and stared out the window, worried at what was to become of his nephew. Would Lewis perish in a foolish war in Cuba? Hearing a soft step at the door of the library, he turned and saw Lola standing there. “It’s hopeless, Lola. I’ve done everything I can, but he won’t change his mind. I’m wiring Davis and Belle tonight. Maybe they can do something with him!” He spoke pessimistically, however, for Lewis was now twenty-four years old and able to make his own decisions.

****

One bright, sunny day, Lewis made one of his regular visits to the Water Street Mission. He was to meet Alice later for his first trip to Coney Island. While chatting with Gail and Deborah about it, he said, “Why don’t the two of you come with us? Have you ever been to Coney Island?”

“No,” said Deborah, “but we’ve heard a lot about it.”

He spoke of the newest amusement park, which had once been a very posh resort where millionaires anchored their luxurious yachts. It had soon become a popular park, and now it was crowded with bathing houses, dance halls, shooting galleries, freak shows, and eating establishments. Special trolleys brought holiday throngs, and crowds from every walk of life filled the place.