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|* How I Carried 
 
 MESSAGE 
 to GARCIA 
 
 * BY 
 
 Colonel Andrew Summers Rowan 
 
 THE MAN WHOM 
 
 ELBERT HUBBARD 
 
 IMMORTALIZED 
 BY HIS FAMOUS 
 
 Message to Garcia 
 
 WALTER D. HARNEY, PUBLISHER 
 
 HEWES BLDG. 
 SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 
 
 Price Twenty-Five Cent* 
 
I»l » »ll '« >l*l» »■> »• 
 
 "FRA ELBERTUS" 
 The Master Mind of Inspiration 
 
 Millions of people have been inspired and enriched 
 by the Writings of Elbert Hubbard. The MES- 
 SAGE TO GARCIA was one of his early writ- 
 ings. It would be hard to estimate just how much 
 good that wonderful booklet has done. Suffice to 
 say that the need was felt for such commonsense 
 philosophy and the MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 filled that need, acquiring momentum as it went 
 on its way, until nearly one hundred million 
 copies have been circulated, having been printed 
 in every language in use today. 
 
 Elbert Hubbard was one of the greatest intellect- 
 ual giants Of modern times, — indeed of any time. 
 His influence penetrated humanity leaving a throb 
 of inspiration and a prescription for happiness to 
 all whom his philosophy reached. He knew the 
 shortcomings, the faults and the failings of hu- 
 man nature. He met them with sensible advice 
 and encouragement. His keen insight and great 
 heartedness, combined with the unusual ability to 
 express himself simply and sincerely were his re- 
 sources at hand, — no other pen inspired and in- 
 structed so well. 
 
 Hubbard was unquestionably America's most bril- 
 liant and able writer. His "LITTLE JOURNEYS 
 TO THE HOMES OF THE GREAT" are the 
 Masterpieces that the world recognises and ac- 
 knowledges as the work of a genius. In them 
 Hubbard put his best self. He gives a closeup 
 view of the greatest men and women of all times, 
 — not in the dry uninteresting biographical style, 
 but4n his own inimitable style, packed with wis- 
 dom, wit and inspiration, with touches of satire 
 here and there but always full of kindness and 
 good cheer. They seemed to have been written 
 for people who think, — who want to think. 
 
 ' ! ' >' » * •' 
 
How I Carried 
 
 The Message To Garcia 
 
 by 
 
 Colonel Andrew Summers Rowan 
 
 The Man Whom Elbert Hubbard Immortalized 
 by His Famous 
 
 Message To Garcia 
 
 Walter D. Harney, Publisher 
 
 Hewes Building 
 
 San Francisco, California 
 
WAR DEPARTMENT 
 
 . /g 21 Washington, D. C. 
 
 to3 June 22, 1922. 
 
 To the Honorable, 
 
 Secretary of War. 
 Sir: 
 
 I regard the achievement of Major Rowan as 
 one of the most hazardous and heroic deeds in mili- 
 tary warfare and I earnestly recommend that he be 
 granted the most distinguished decoration author- 
 ized by Congress. 
 
 I have the honor to remain with great respect, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 ^Ph-S ,£W*T^j7y 
 
Dedicated to My Wife 
 JOSEPHINE MORRIS ROWAN 
 
 To Replace lost copy 
 
 OCT 7 1947 
 
 5 
 
 Copy.. 
 
 Copyrighted 
 
 in 
 
 United States, Canada, 
 
 England and Australia 
 
 by 
 
 Andrew S. Rowan 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 "How I Carried the Message to Garcia" 
 
 By 
 COL. ANDREW S. ROWAN 
 
 "Let us both small and great push forward in 
 this work, in this pursuit, if to our country, if to 
 ourselves we would live dear." 
 
 — Horace. 
 
 HERE," asked President McKinley of 
 Colonel Arthur Wagner, head of the 
 Bureau of Military Intelligence, "where 
 can I find a man who will carry a mes- 
 sage to Garcia?" 
 ^ The reply was prompt. 
 ^ "There is a young officer here in 
 Washington; a lieutenant named Rowan, who will 
 carry it for you!" 
 
 <I "Send him!" was the President's order. 
 *I The United States faced a war with Spain. The 
 President was anxious for information. He realized 
 that success meant that the soldiers of the republic 
 must co-operate with the insurgent forces of Cuba. He 
 understood that it was essential to know how many 
 Spanish troops there were on the island, their quality 
 and condition, their morale, the character of their offi- 
 cers, especially those of the high command; the state 
 of the roads in all seasons; the sanitary situation in 
 both the Spanish and insurgent armies and the coun- 
 try in general; how well both sides were armed and 
 what the Cuban forces would need in order to harass 
 the enemy while American battalions were being mo- 
 bilized; the topography of the country and many other 
 important facts. 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 <$ Small wonder that the command, "Send him!" was 
 equally as prompt as the answer to his question respect- 
 ing the individual who would carry the message to 
 Garcia. 
 
 ^ It was perhaps an hour later, at noon, when Col- 
 onel Wagner came to me to ask me to meet him at the 
 Army and Navy Club for lunch at one o'clock. As we 
 were eating, the colonel — who had, by the way, a rep- 
 utation for being an inveterate joker — asked me: 
 <I "When does the next boat leave for Jamaica?" 
 C[ Thinking he was making an effort to perpetrate one 
 of his pleasantries, and determined to thwart him, if 
 possible, I excused myself for a minute or so and when 
 I had returned informed him that the "Adirondack," of 
 the Atlas Line, a British boat, would sail from New 
 York the next day at noon. 
 
 €J "Can you take that boat?" snapped the colonel. 
 <§ Notwithstanding that I still believed the colonel was 
 joking I replied in the affirmative. 
 <J "Then," said my superior, "get ready to take it!" 
 CJ "Young man," he continued, "you have been selected 
 by the President to communicate with — or rather, to 
 carry a message to — General Garcia, who will be found 
 somewhere in the eastern part of Cuba. Your problem 
 will be to secure from him information of a military 
 character, bring it down to date and arrange it on a 
 working basis. Your message to him will be in the na- 
 ture of a series of inquiries from the President. Writ- 
 ten communication, further than is necessary to identify 
 you, will be avoided. History has furnished us with the 
 record of too many tragedies to warrant taking risks. 
 Nathan Hale of the Continental Army, and Lieutenant 
 Richey in the War with Mexico were both caught with 
 dispatches; both were put to death and in the case of 
 the latter the plans for Scott's invasion of Vera Cruz 
 were divulged to the enemy. There must be no failure 
 on your part; there must bt no errors made in this 
 case." 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE T O GARCIA 
 
 <& By this time I was fully alive to the fact that Col- 
 onel Wagner was not joking. 
 
 <I "Means will be found," he continued, "to identify 
 you in Jamaica, where there is a Cuban junta. The 
 rest depends on you. You require no further instructions 
 than those I will now give you," which he did, they 
 being essentially as outlined in the opening paragraphs. 
 "You will need the afternoon for preparation. Quarter- 
 master-General Humphreys will see that you are put 
 ashore at Kingston. After that, providing the United 
 States declares war on Spain, further instructions will 
 be based on cables received from you. Otherwise every- 
 thing will be silence. You must plan and act for your-^ 
 self. The task is yours and yours onlyi/ You must get 
 a message to Garcia. Your train leaves at midnight. 
 Good-by and good luck!" 
 *I We shook hands. 
 
 ^ As Colonel Wagner released mine he repeated: 
 ^ "Get that message to Garcia!" 
 
 <I Hastily, as I set about to make my preparations, I 
 considered my situation. My duty was, as I understood 
 it, complicated by the fact that a state of war did not 
 exist, nor would it exist at the time of my departure; 
 possibly not until after my arrival in Jamaica. A false 
 step might bring about a condition that a lifetime of 
 statement would never explain. Should war be declared 
 my mission would be simplified, although its dangers 
 would not be lessened. 
 
 ^ In instances of this kind, where one's reputation, as 
 well as his life, is at stake, it is usual to ask for written 
 instructions. In military service the life of the man is 
 at the disposal of his country, but his reputation is his 
 own and it ought not be placed in the hands of anyone 
 with power to destroy it, either by neglect or other- 
 wise. But in this case it never occurred to me to ask 
 for written instructions; my sole thought was that I 
 was charged with a message to Garcia and to get from 
 him certain information and that I was going to do it. 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 ^ Whether Colonel Wagner ever placed on file in the 
 office of the adjutant-general the substance of our con- 
 versation I do not know. At this late day it matters 
 little. 
 
 f§ My train left Washington at 12:01 a. m., and I have 
 a recollection of thinking of an old superstition about 
 starting on a journey on Friday. It was Saturday when 
 the train departed, but it was Friday when I left the 
 club. I assumed the Fates would decide that I had left 
 on Friday. But I soon forgot that in my mental dis- 
 cussion of other matters and did not recall it until some 
 time afterward and then it mattered nothing, for my 
 mission had been completed. 
 
 C| The "Adirondack" left on time and the voyage was 
 without special incident. I held myself aloof from the 
 other passengers and learned only from a traveling com- 
 panion, an electrical engineer, what was going on. He 
 conveyed to me the cheerful information that because of 
 my keeping away from them and giving no one any 
 information as to my business, a bunch of convivial spir- 
 its had conferred on me the title of "the bunco steerer." 
 <J It was when the ship entered Cuban waters that I 
 first realized danger. I had but one incriminating pa- 
 per, a letter from the State Department to officials in 
 Jamaica saying that I was what I might represent my- 
 self to be. But if war had been declared before the 
 Adirondack entered Cuban waters she would have been 
 liable to search by Spain, under the rules of interna- 
 tional law. As I was contraband and the bearer of 
 contraband I could have been seized as a prisoner of 
 war and taken aboard any Spanish ship, while the Brit- 
 ish boat, after compliance with specified preliminaries, 
 could have been sunk, despite the fact that she left a 
 peaceful port under a neutral flag, bound for a neutral 
 port, prior to a declaration of war. 
 
 <J Recalling this state of affairs, I hid this paper in 
 the life preserver in my stateroom and it was with 
 great relief I saw the cape astern. 
 
 8 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 <I By nine next morning I had landed and was a guest 
 of Jamaica. I was soon in touch with Mr. Lay, head 
 of the Cuban junta, and with him and his aids planning 
 to get to Garcia as soon as possible. 
 <I I had left Washington April 8-9. April 20 the ca- 
 bles announced that the United States had given Spain 
 until the 23 to agree to surrender Cuba to the Cubans 
 and to withdraw her armed forces from the island and 
 her navy from its waters. I had in cypher cabled my 
 arrival and on April 23 a reply in code came: 
 •I "Join Garcia as soon as possible!" 
 fl In a few minutes after its receipt I was at head- 
 quarters of the junta, where I was expected. There 
 were a number of exiled Cubans present whom I had 
 not met before and we were conversing on general top- 
 ics when a carriage drove up. 
 ^ "It is time!" some one exclaimed in Spanish. 
 1$ Following which, without further discussion, I was 
 led to the vehicle and took a seat inside. 
 ^ Then began one of the strangest rides ever taken by 
 a soldier on duty or off. My driver proved to be the 
 most taciturn of Jehus. He spoke not to me, nor heeded 
 me when I spoke to him. The instant I was shut in 
 he started through the maze of Kingston's streets at a 
 furious pace. On and on he drove, never slackening 
 speed, and soon we had passed the suburbs and were 
 beyond all habitations. I knocked, yes, kicked, but he 
 gave no heed. 
 
 tj He seemed to understand that I was carrying a mes- 
 sage to Garcia and that it was his part to get me over 
 the first "leg" of the journey as speedily as possible. 
 So, after several futile efforts to make him listen to me, 
 I decided to let matters take their course and settled 
 back in my seat. 
 
 *] Four miles farther, through a dense growth of trop- 
 ical trees, we flew along the broad and level Spanish 
 Town road, until at the edge of the jungle we halted, 
 the door of the cab was opened, a strange face appeared 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 and I was invited to transfer to another carriage that 
 was waiting. 
 
 1$ But the strangeness of it all! The order in which 
 everything appeared to be arranged! Not an unneces- 
 sary word was indulged in, not a second of time was 
 wasted. 
 
 <I A minute later and again I was on my way. 4 
 €J The second driver, like the first, was dumb. He de- 
 clined all efforts made to get him in conversation, con- 
 tenting himself by putting his horses to as swift a pace 
 as possible, so on we went through Spanish Town and 
 up the valley of the Cobre river to the backbone of the 
 island where the road runs down to the ultramarine wa- 
 ters of the Caribbean at St. Ann's Bay. 
 <I Still not a word from my driver, although I repeat- 
 edly endeavored to get him to talk to me. Not a sound, 
 not a sign that he understood me; just a race along a 
 splendid road, breathing more freely as the altitude in- 
 creased, until as the sun set we drew up beside a rail- 
 way station. 
 
 ^ But what is this mass of ebony rolling down the 
 slope of the cut toward me? Had the Spanish author- 
 ities anticipated me and placed Jamaica officers on my 
 trail? I was uneasy for a moment as this apparition 
 came in sight, but relief came when an old negro hob- 
 bled to the carriage and shoved through the door a de- 
 liriously fried chicken and two bottles of Bass' ale, at 
 the same time letting loose a volley of dialect, which, 
 as I was able to catch a word here and there, I under- 
 stood was highly complimentary to me for helping Cuba 
 gain her freedom and giving me to understand that he 
 was "doing his bit" with me. 
 
 ^ But my driver stood not on ceremony, nor was he 
 interested in either chicken or conversation. In a trice a 
 new pair of horses was relayed on and away we went, 
 my Jehu plying his whip vigorously. I had only time 
 enough to thank the old negro by shouting: 
 1$ "Good-by, uncle!" 
 
 10 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 IJ In another minute we had left him and were racing 
 through the darkness at break-neck speed. 
 CJ Although I fully comprehended the gravity and im- 
 portance of the errand in which I was engaged, I lost 
 sight of it for the time in my admiration of the tropical 
 forests. These wear their beauty at night as well as by 
 day. The difference is that while during the sunlight 
 it is the vegetable world that is in perennial bloom, at 
 night it is the insect world in its flight that excites 
 attention. Hardly had the short twilight changed to 
 utter darkness when the glow-worms turned on their 
 phosphorescent lights and flooded the woods with their 
 weird beauties. These magnificent fireflies illuminated 
 with their incandescence the forest I was traversing un- 
 til it resembled a veritable fairyland. 
 <I But even such wonders as these are forgotten in the 
 recollection of duty to be performed. We still coursed 
 onward at a speed that was limited only by the physical 
 abilities of the horses, when suddenly a shrill whistle 
 sounded from the jungle! 
 
 <I My carriage stopped. Men appeared as if they had 
 sprung from the ground. I was surrounded by a party 
 of men armed to the teeth. I had no fear of being inter- 
 cepted on British soil by Spanish soldiers, but these ab- 
 rupt halts were getting on my nerves, because action by 
 the Jamaica authorities would mean the failure of the 
 mission, and if the Jamaica authorities had been notified 
 that I was violating the neutrality of the island I would 
 not be allowed to proceed. What if these men were 
 English soldiers! 
 
 t[ But my feelings were soon relieved. A whispered 
 parley and we were away again! 
 
 fl In about an hour we halted in front of a house out- 
 lined by feeble lights within. Supper waited. The junta 
 manifestly believed in liberal feeding. 
 €J The first thing offered me was a glass of Jamaica 
 rum. I do not recall that I was tired, although we 
 had traveled about seventy miles in approximately nine 
 
 11 
 
H OW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 hours with two relays, but I do know that the rum 
 was welcome. 
 
 <I Following came introductions. From an adjoining 
 room came a tall, wiry, determined-looking man, with 
 a fierce moustache, one of his hands minus a thumb; a 
 man to tie to in an emergency, to trust at any time. 
 His eyes were honest, loyal eyes that mirrored a noble 
 soul. He was a Peninsula Spaniard who had gone to 
 Cuba, at Santiago had quarreled with the rule of Old 
 Spain, hence the missing thumb and exile. He was Ger- 
 vacio Sabio and he was charged with seeing that I was 
 guided to General Garcia for the delivery of my mes- 
 sage. The others were the men employed to get me out 
 of Jamaica — seven miles remaining to be traveled — 
 with one exception, one man was to be my "assistente," 
 or orderly. 
 
 €& Following a rest of an hour we proceeded. Half an 
 hour's travel from the hut we were again halted by 
 whistle signals. We alighted and entered a cane field 
 through which we tramped in silence for about a mile 
 until we came to a cocoanut grove bordering a play- 
 thing of a bay. 
 
 ^ Fifty yards off shore a small fishing boat rocked 
 softly on the water. Suddenly a light flashed aboard 
 the little craft. It must have been a time signal, for 
 our arrival had been noiseless. Gervacio, apparently sat- 
 isfied with the alertness of the crew, answered it. 
 Cfl Following some conversation during which I thanked 
 the agents of the junta, I climbed on the back of one 
 of the boat's crew who had waded ashore and was car- 
 ried to the boat. 
 
 ^ I had completed the first part of the journey to 
 Garcia. 
 
 €fl Once aboard the boat I noted that it was partially 
 filled with boulders intended for ballast. Oblong bun- 
 dles indicated cargo, but not sufficient to impede prog- 
 ress. But with Gervacio as skipper, the crew of two men, 
 
 12 
 
HO W I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 my assistente and myself, the boulders and the bundles, 
 there was little room for comfort. 
 
 ^ I indicated to Gervacio my desire to get beyond the 
 three-mile limit as soon as possible, as I did not want 
 to impose upon the hospitality of Great Britain longer 
 than necessary. He replied that the boat would have 
 to be rowed beyond the headlands, as there was not 
 sufficient wind in the small bay to fill her sails. We 
 were soon outside the cape, however, our sails caught 
 the breeze and the second stretch of the trip to the 
 strife-torn objective was begun. 
 
 <J I have no hesitation in saying that there were some 
 anxious moments for me following our departure. My 
 reputation was at stake if I should be caught within 
 the three-mile limit off the Jamaica coast. My life 
 would be at stake if I should be caught within three 
 miles of the Cuban coast. My only friends were the 
 crew and the Caribbean sea. 
 
 1$ One hundred miles to the north lay the shores of 
 Cuba, patroled by Spanish "lanchas," light-draft vessels 
 armed with pivot guns of small caliber, and machine 
 guns, their crews provided with Mauser rifles, far su- 
 perior — as I afterward learned — to anything we had 
 aboard; as motley a collection of small arms as could 
 be picked up anywhere. In the event of an encounter 
 with one of these "lanchas" there was little to hope for. 
 <| But I must succeed; I must find Garcia and deliver 
 my message! 
 
 f^ Our plan of action was to keep outside the Cuban 
 three-mile limit until after sunset, then to sail or row 
 in rapidly, draw behind some friendly coral reef and 
 wait until morning. If we were caught, as we car- 
 ried no papers, we would probably be sunk and no 
 questions asked. Boulder-laden craft go to the bottom 
 quickly and floating bodies tell no tales to those who 
 find them. 
 
 ^ It was now early morning, the air was deliciously 
 cool and, wearied with my journey thus far I was about 
 
 13 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 to seek some rest in sleep when suddenly Gervacio gave 
 an exclamation that brought us all to our feet. A few 
 miles away one of the dreaded lanchas was bearing di- 
 rectly toward us. 
 
 f$ A sharp command in Spanish and the crew dropped 
 the sail. 
 
 ^ Another and all save Gervacio, who was at the helm, 
 were below the gunwale, and he was lounging over the 
 tiller, keeping the boat's nose parallel with the Jamaica 
 shore. 
 
 CJ "He may think I am a 'lone fisherman" from Jamaica 
 and go by us," said the cool-headed steersman. 
 <I So it proved. When within hailing distance the pert 
 young commander of the lancha cried in Spanish: 
 <J "Catching anything?" 
 
 ^ To which my guide responded, also in Spanish: 
 •I "No, the miserable fish are not biting this morning!" 
 ^ If only that midshipman, or whatever his rank, had 
 been wise enough to lay alongside, he surely would have 
 "caught something," and this story would never have 
 been written. When he had passed us and was some 
 distance away, Gervacio ordered sail hoisted again and 
 turning to me remarked : 
 
 <J"If the Senor is tired and wants sleep, he can now in- 
 dulge himself, for I think the danger is past." 
 ^ If anything occurred during the next six hours, it 
 left me undisturbed. In fact, I believed that nothing 
 except the broiling heat of the tropical sun could have 
 drawn me from my rocky mattress. But it did for 
 the Cubans, who were quite proud of their Eng- 
 lish, greeted me with: "Buenos dias, Meester Rowan!" 
 The sun shone brilliantly all day. Jamaica was all 
 aglow, like some mighty jewel in a setting of emerald. 
 The turquoise sky was cloudless and to the south the 
 green slopes of the island were blocked off in large 
 squares, showing to great advantage the light verdancy 
 of the cane fields alternating with the deeper hue of the 
 forests. It was a splendid and a magnificent picture. 
 
 14 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 But northward all was gloom. An immense bank of 
 clouds enshrouded Cuba and, watch as keenly as we 
 might, we saw no sign of their lifting. But the wind 
 held true and even increased in volume during the 
 hours. We were making good progress and Gervacio 
 at the tiller was happy, joking with the crew and smok- 
 ing like a "fumarole." 
 
 ^ About four o'clock in the afternoon the clouds broke 
 away and the Sierra Maestra, the master mountain range 
 of the island, stood in the golden sunshine in all its 
 beauteous majesty. It was like drawing the curtain 
 aside and placing on view a matchless picture by an 
 artist monarch. Here were color, mass, mountain, land 
 and sea blended in one splendid ensemble, the like of 
 which is found nowhere else, for there is no place on 
 earth where a mountain range rises abruptly from the 
 ocean to a height of 8000 feet, its summits clothed in 
 verdure and its great battlements extending for hun- 
 dreds of miles! 
 
 ^ But my admiration was short lived. Gervacio broke 
 the spell when he began taking in sail. To my ques- 
 tion he replied: 
 
 ^ "We are closer in than I thought. We are in the 
 war zone of the lanchas, high seas or no high seas. We 
 must stand well out and use the open water for all it 
 is worth. To go closer and run the risk of being seen 
 by the enemy is merely to run an unnecessary risk." 
 C[ Hastily we overhauled the arsenal. I carried only 
 a Smith & Wesson revolver, so I was assigned a fright- 
 ful looking rifle. I might have been able to fire it once, 
 but I doubt if it would have been of further service. 
 The crew and my assistente were provided with the 
 same formidable weapons, while the pilot, who from his 
 seat looked after the jib, the only sail set, drew close 
 to him the other weapons. The real serious part of 
 my mission was now at hand. Hitherto everything had 
 been easy and comparatively safe. Now danger • men- 
 
 15 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 aced. Grave danger. Capture meant death and my 
 failure to carry my message to Garcia. 
 ^ We were probably twenty-five miles from the coast, 
 although it seemed but a span away. It was not until 
 nearly midnight that the jib-sheet was let go and the 
 crew began sounding the shallow water with their oars. 
 Then a timely roller gave us a last lift and with a 
 mighty effort shoved us into the waters of a hidden, 
 peaceful bay. We anchored in the darkness fifty yards 
 off shore. I suggested that we land at once, but Ger- 
 vacio replied: 
 
 <% "We have enemies both ashore and afloat, Senor; 
 it is better that we stay where we are. Should any 
 lancha endeavor to pry us out she would likely land on 
 the submerged coral reef we have crossed and we can 
 get ashore, and from the obscurity of the grape entan- 
 glements we can play the game." 
 
 <J The tropical haze which ever hangs mistlike at the 
 meeting of the sea and sky in low altitudes began to 
 lift slowly, disclosing a mass of grape, mangrove thick- 
 ets and thorn-set trees, reaching almost to the edge of 
 the water. It was difficult to perceive objects with dis- 
 tinctness, but as if declining to puzzle us further as to 
 the nature of our surroundings, the sun rose gloriously 
 over El Turquino, the highest point in all Cuba. In 
 an instant everything had changed, the mist had van- 
 ished, the darkness of the low-lying thicket against the 
 mountain wall had been dissipated, the gray of the wa- 
 ter breaking against the shore had been transformed 
 as if by magic to a marvelous green. It was one splen- 
 did triumph of light over darkness. 
 
 *i Already the crew were busy transferring luggage 
 ashore. Noting me standing mute and seemingly dazed, 
 for I was thinking of the lines by a poet who must have 
 had a similar scene in mind when he wrote: 
 
 Cfl. "Night's candles are burnt out and jocund day 
 
 Id 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESS AGE TO GARCIA 
 
 *I Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain tops," 
 Gervacio said in a low tone to me: 
 <I "El Turquino, Senor!"— the Tutor. 
 fl As I stood there drinking in the glory of that mar- 
 vellous morning, little did I dream that I was standing 
 within a stone's throw, almost, of what was soon to be 
 the watery sepulchre of the mighty "Colon," a great 
 battleship, then first in her class and bearing the name 
 of the greatest of all admirals, Christopher Columbus, 
 the discoverer of America, this great ship having already 
 been selected by the Fates to be destroyed by our own 
 warships in the sea fight off Santiago. 
 ^ But my reveries were soon ended. The freight was 
 landed, I was carried ashore, the boat dragged to a 
 small estuary, overturned and hidden in the jungle. By 
 this time a number of ragged Cubans had assembled at 
 our landing place. Where they came from, or how they 
 knew that our party was a friendly one, were problems 
 too deep for me. Signals of some sort had doubtless 
 been exchanged and they had come to act as burden- 
 bearers. Some of them had seen service, some of them 
 bore the marks made by Mauser bullets. 
 <I Our landing place seemed to be a junction of paths 
 running in all directions away from the coast and into 
 the thicket. Off to the west, seemingly about a mile 
 away, little columns of smoke were rising through the 
 vegetation. I learned that this smoke was from a "sa- 
 lina," or pan where salt was being made for the refu- 
 gee Cubans who had hidden in these mountains after 
 fleeing from the dreaded concentration camps. 
 CJ The second "leg" of the journey was completed. 
 ^ Hitherto there had been danger; from this time on 
 there would be more. Spanish troops mercilessly hunt- 
 ed down Cubans and small mercy was shown by the 
 forces directed by Weyler, the "butcher," to men found 
 in arms, or outside the concentration camps, even though 
 they might be unarmed. The remainder of the journey 
 to Garcia was fraught with many dangers and I knew 
 
 17 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 it, but this was no time to consider them; I must be 
 on my way! 
 
 CJ The topography of the country was simple enough; 
 a level strip of land extending a mile or so inland to- 
 ward the north, covered with jungle. Man's handiwork 
 had been confined to cutting paths, and the network 
 could be threaded only by the Cubans reared in this 
 labyrinth. The heat soon became oppressive and caused 
 me to envy my companions, none of whom were bur- 
 dened by superfluous clothing. 
 
 1$ Soon we were on the march, screened from the sea 
 and the mountains, and, indeed, from each other, by 
 the denseness of the foliage, the twists and turns of the 
 trail and the torrid haze that soon settled over every- 
 thing. The jungle was converted into a miniature in- 
 ferno by the sun, although we could not see it through 
 the verdure. But as we left the coast and approached 
 the foothills the jungle began to give way to a larger 
 and less dense growth. We soon reached a clearing 
 where we found a few bearing cocoanut trees. The wa- 
 ter, fresh and cool, drawn from the nuts, was elixir to 
 our parched throats. 
 
 CJ But not long did we tarry in this pleasant spot. A 
 march of miles lay before us and a climb up steep moun- 
 tain slopes to another hidden clearing must be made be- 
 fore nightfall. Soon we had entered the true tropical 
 forest. Here traveling was somewhat easier, for a cur- 
 rent of air, hardly perceptible, but a current of air nev- 
 ertheless, made breathing less of a task and, by far, 
 more refreshing. 
 
 <fl Through this forest runs the "Royal Road" from 
 Portillo to Santiago de Cuba. As we neared this high- 
 way I noted my companions one by one disappearing in 
 the jungle. I was soon left alone with Gervacio. Turn- 
 ing to him to ask a question I saw him place a finger on 
 his lips, mutely sign to me to have my rifle and revolver 
 in readiness and then he too vanished amid the tropical 
 growth. 
 
 18 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 *I I was not long in ascertaining the reason for this 
 strange conduct. The jingle of horses' trappings, the 
 rattling of the short sabers carried by Spanish cavalry 
 and occasionally a word of command, fell on my ear. 
 ^ But for the vigilance of those with me we should 
 have walked out on the highway just in time to encoun- 
 ter a hostile force! 
 
 ^ I cocked my rifle and swung my Smith & Wesson 
 into position for quick action and waited tensely for 
 what was to follow. Every moment I expected to hear 
 reports of firearms. But none came and one by one the 
 men returned, Gervacio being among the last. 
 <I "We scattered in order to deceive them in the event 
 we had been discovered. We covered a considerable 
 stretch of the road and had firing been commenced the 
 enemy would have believed it an attack in force from 
 ambush. It would have been a successful one too," 
 Gervacio added with an expression of regret, "bjut duty 
 first and, — " here he smiled, — "pleasure afterward !" 
 <J Beside the trails along which insurgent parties usu- 
 ally passed, it was the custom to build fires and bury 
 sweet potatoes in the ashes. There they roasted until 
 a hungry party should pass. We came upon one of 
 these fires during the afternoon. A baked sweet po- 
 tato was passed out to each of the party, the fire cov- 
 ered again and the march resumed. 
 ^ As we ate our sweet potatoes I thought of Marion 
 and his men in the days of the revolution, who fought 
 their battles on a like diet, and through my mind flashed 
 the idea that as Marion and his men had fought to 
 victory, so also would these Cubans, who were inspired 
 by a desire for liberty similar to that actuating the pa- 
 triot fathers of my own country, and it was with a feel- 
 ing of pride that I recalled that my mission was to aid 
 these people in their efforts by communicating with their 
 
 19 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 general and making it possible for the soldiers of my 
 nation to do battle in their behalf. 
 
 €J Arriving at the end of the journey for the day, I ob- 
 served a number of men in a dress strange to me. 
 ۤ "Who are these?" I inquired. 
 
 <J "They are deserters from the army of Spain, Senor," 
 replied Gervacio. "They have fled from Manzanillo and 
 they say that lack of food and harsh treatment by their 
 officers were the reasons for their leaving." 
 CJ Now a deserter is sometimes of value, but here in 
 this wilderness I would have preferred their room to 
 their company. Who could say that One or more of 
 them might not leave camp at any time and warn the 
 Spanish officials that an American was crossing Cuba, 
 evidently bound for the camp of General Garcia? Would 
 not the enemy make every effort to thwart him in his 
 mission? So I said to Gervacio: 
 
 CJ "Question these men closely and see that they do 
 not leave camp during our stay!" 
 CJ "Si, Senor!" was the reply. 
 
 CJ Well'for me and the success of my errand that I had 
 given out such instruction. My thought that one or 
 more deserters might leave to apprise the Spanish com- 
 mander of my presence proved to be the correct one. 
 Although it is not fair to presume that any knew my 
 mission, my being there was sufficient to arouse the sus- 
 picions of two who proved to be spies and also nearly 
 resulted in my assassination. These two determined to 
 leave camp that night and plunge through the thickets 
 to the Spanish lines with the information that an "offi- 
 cer Americano" was being escorted across Cuba. 
 CJ I was awakened some time after midnight by the 
 challenge of a sentinel, followed by a shot, and almost 
 instantly a shadowy form appeared close by my ham- 
 mock. I sprang up and out on the opposite side just as 
 another form appeared and in less time than it takes to 
 write it the first one had fallen as the result of a blow 
 from a machete, which cut through the bones of his 
 
 20 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 right shoulder to the lung. The wretch lived long 
 enough to tell us that it was agreed if his comrade 
 failed to get out of camp, he should kill me and prevent 
 the carrying out of whatever project I was engaged in. 
 The sentinel shot and killed his comrade. 
 ^ Horses and saddles were not available until late next 
 day, at an hour that made it impossible to proceed. I 
 chafed at the delay, but it could not be helped. Sad- 
 dles were harder to secure than horses. I was some- 
 what impatient and asked Gervacio why we could not 
 proceed without saddles. 
 
 <J "General Garcia is besieging Bayamo, in Central 
 Cuba, Senor," was his reply, "and we shall have to travel 
 a considerable distance in order to reach him." 
 ^ This was the reason for the search for "monturas," 
 the saddles and trappings. One look at the steed as- 
 signed me and my admiration for the wisdom of my 
 guide mounted rapidly and increased noticeably during 
 the four days' ride. Had I ridden that skeleton without 
 a saddle it would have meant exquisite torture. How- 
 ever, I will say for the horse, that with his "montura" 
 he proved a mettlesome beast, far superior to many a 
 well-fed horse of the plains of America. 
 ^ Our trail followed the backbone of the ridge for 
 some distance after leaving camp. One unaccustomed 
 to these trails must surely have been driven desperate 
 by the perplexity of the wilderness, but our guides seem- 
 ed to be as familiar with the tortuous windings as they 
 would have been on a broad high road. 
 (& Shortly after we had left the divide and had begun 
 the descent of the eastern slope we were greeted by a 
 motley assembly of children and an old man whose 
 white hair streamed down his shoulders. The column 
 halted, a few words passed between the patriarch and 
 Gervacio, and then the forest rang with "Vivas," for 
 the United States, for Cuba and the "Delegado Ameri- 
 cano." It was a touching incident. How they had learn- 
 ed of my approach I never knew; but news travels 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 fast in the jungle and my arrival had made one old man 
 and a crowd of little children happier. 
 1i At Yara, where the river leaves the foothills we 
 camped that night, it was brought to me that we were 
 in a zone where danger lurked. "Trincheras" or trenches 
 had been built to defend the gorge should the Spanish 
 columns march out from Manzanillo. Yara is a great 
 name in Cuban history, for from the town of Yara came 
 the first cry for "liberty" in the "Ten Years' War" of 
 1868-78. I was asked to swing my hammock behind 
 the trinchera, which, by the way, was not a trench at 
 all, but a breast-high wall of stones, and I noticed that 
 a guard, recruited from some unknown source, was post- 
 ed and kept on duty all night. 
 
 ^ Gervacio intended taking no chances on my mission 
 being a failure. 
 
 €fl Next morning we began the ascent of the spur pro- 
 jecting northward from the Sierra Maestra, forming the 
 east bank of the river. Our course lay across the eroded 
 ridges. Danger lurked in the lowlands. There was the 
 possibility of ambuscade, fire and the chance of being 
 cut off by some mobile party of Spaniards. 
 ^ Here began a series of ups and downs across the 
 streams with vertical banks. In my career I have seen 
 much cruelty to animals, but never anything to equal 
 this. To get the poor horses down to the bottom of 
 these gulches and out again involved forms of punish- 
 ment beyond belief. But there was no help for it; the 
 message to Garcia must be delivered, and in war what 
 are the sufferings of a few horses when the freedom of 
 hundreds of thousands of human beings is at stake? 
 I felt sorry for the brutes, but this was no time for 
 sentiment. 
 
 Cfl It was with great relief that after the hardest day 
 of riding I had ever experienced we halted at a hut in 
 the midst of corn patches near the edges of the forest, 
 at Jibaro. A freshly killed beef was hanging to the 
 rafters, while the cook in the open was busy prepar- 
 
 22 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 ing a meal for the "Delegado Americano." My coming 
 had been heralded and my feast was to consist of fresh 
 beef and cassava bread. 
 
 <& Hardly had I finished my generous meal when a 
 great commotion was heard, voices and the clatter of 
 horses' hoofs at the edge of the forest. Colonel Cas- 
 tillo of the staff of General Rios had arrived. He wel- 
 comed me in the name of his chief, who was due to 
 arrive in the morning, with all the grace of a trained 
 staff officer; then mounting his steed with an athletic 
 spring, put the spurs to his mount in frenzied fashion 
 and was off, as he came, like a flash. His welcome as- 
 sured me that I was making headway under a skilful 
 guide. 
 
 CJ General Rios came next morning and with him Col- 
 onel Castillo, who presented me with a Panama hat 
 "made in Cuba." General Rios was "the general of the 
 coasts." He was very dark, evidently of Indian and 
 Spanish blood, with springy, athletic step. No Spanish 
 column ever made a sortie in his district and found him 
 unprepared. His sources of information and his intui- 
 tion were uncanny. It was no small task to move hid- 
 ing families and provide for their maintenance, but he 
 did it, and, as may be supposed, advance information of 
 enemy movements was imperative. The Spanish meth- 
 ods were to enter the forests, scour them and, in default 
 of prey, lay the districts in waste. Meanwhile General 
 Rios would conduct matters in guerilla fashion and his 
 forces were continuously taking pot shots at the Span- 
 ish columns, sometimes doing terrible execution. 
 t| General Rios added two hundred cavalrymen to my 
 escort. As we marched single file we would have pre- 
 sented a formidable appearance had there been anyone 
 to see us. 
 
 t][ I could not help observing that we were being led 
 with remarkable skill and speed. We had entered the 
 forest again and were hiding in the evergreen dress of 
 the Sierra Maestra. The trail was comparatively level, 
 
 23 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 but crossed at intervals by water courses with steep 
 banks. The paths were so narrow we were constantly 
 running afoul of tree trunks, barking our shins and dis- 
 lodging the impedimenta from the backs of our horses. 
 Still the guide held to a steady gait that caused me to 
 marvel. My usual position was near the center of the 
 column, but I wanted to be near this centaur who was 
 in the lead and at the next water course crossing I rode 
 forward to observe him. He was a coal black negro, 
 Dionisio Lopez, a lieutenant in the Cuban army. He 
 could trace a course through this trackless forest, 
 through the tangled growth, as fast as he could ride. 
 His skill with a machete was amazing. He carved a 
 way for us through the jungle. Networks of vines fell 
 before his steady strokes right and left; closed spaces 
 became openings; the man appeared tireless. 
 <I The night of April 30 brought us to the Rio Buey, 
 an affluent of the Bayamo River, and about twenty miles 
 from the city of Bayamo. Our hammocks had scarcely 
 been swung when Gervacio appeared, his face aglow 
 with satisfaction. 
 
 <I "He is there, Senor! General Garcia is in Bayamo 
 and the Spaniards are in retreat down the Cauto river. 
 Their rear-guard is at Cauto-El-Embarcadero !" 
 ^ So eager was I to get in communication with Gar- 
 cia that I proposed a night ride, but after a conference 
 it was decided that nothing would be gained. 
 Cfl May-day, 1898, is "Dewey Day" in our calendar. As 
 I was sleeping in the forests of Cuba, the great ad- 
 miral was feeling his way past the guns of Corregidor 
 into Manila Bay to destroy the Spanish fleet. While 
 I was on my way to Garcia that day he had sunk the 
 Spanish ships and with his guns was menacing the cap- 
 ital of the Philippines. 
 
 C] Early that morning we were on our way. Terrace 
 by terrace we descended the slope leading to the plain 
 of Bayamo. This great stretch of country, laid waste 
 for years, was now as if man had never been. At the 
 black remnant of the hacienda of Candalaria, mute evi- 
 24 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 dence of Spanish methods of warfare, we passed into the 
 plain. We had ridden more than one hundred miles 
 through a wilderness with hardly a habitation to show 
 that man had ever lived in one of Nature's most fav- 
 ored spots across a tropical garden gone to weeds. 
 Through grass so high that our column was hidden 
 from sight, through burning sun and blistering heat, we 
 traveled, but all our discomforts were forgotten in the 
 thought that our destination was at hand; our mission 
 nearly ended. Even our jaded horses seemed to share 
 in our anticipation and eagnerness. 
 
 <I At the erstwhile Peralejo, the scene of the attack 
 by Maceo on the column of General Campos, we struck 
 the royal road to Manzanillo-Bayamo and encountered 
 joyous human beings in rags and tatters, all hurrying 
 toward the town. The chatter of these happy groups 
 reminded me of the parrots that had shrieked at our 
 passage through the jungles. They were going back to 
 the homes from which they had been driven. 
 ($ 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. 
 
 <I We soon lined up on the bank, and after Gervacio 
 and Lopez had talked to the guards, we proceeded. We 
 halted in mid-stream 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 des- 
 tiny 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 Lieu- 
 tenant Rowan was as he galloped up Calle Commercial, followed by the Cu- 
 ban guides who accompanied him." 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 f In a few minutes I was in the presence of Gen- 
 eral Garcia. 
 
 *J The long and toilsome journey with its many risks, 
 its chances of failure, its chances for death, was over. 
 ^ I had succeeded. 
 
 tj As we arrived in front of General Garcia's headquar- 
 ters 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, dis- 
 mounted 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 Gen- 
 eral 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.) 
 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 com- 
 manding officers; the morale of the Spanish troops; the 
 topography of the country, both local and general; com- 
 munications, especially the conditions of the roads; in 
 short, any information which would enable the Ameri- 
 
 26 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 can 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 in- 
 formed 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 incom- 
 patible 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. 
 
 <I 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 de- 
 cided 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 re- 
 main months in Cuba I might not be able to make so 
 complete a report, and as time was the important ele- 
 ment, the quicker the United States government got 
 the information the better it would be for all concerned. 
 C[ He went on to explain that his men needed arms, 
 especially artillery, important in assaulting block-houses. 
 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. 
 
 Cfl 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 \vith us ; they might be useful on the return 
 expedition in case the United States should decide to 
 furnish the supplies he wanted, 
 q Could I proceed that day — hoy mismo? 
 
 27 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 ^ Could I ask more? 
 
 *i Could I ask more? I had been continuously on the 
 move for nine days in all kinds and conditions of ter- 
 rain. I would have liked to have had a chance to look 
 around me in these strange surroundings, but my an- 
 swer was as prompt as his question. I simply replied: 
 «I "Yes, sir!" 
 
 €J 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 exist- 
 ing situation in the island as that possessed by the Cu- 
 bans themselves ; certainly as good as the enemy had. 
 f$ 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 compan- 
 ion 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 ada- 
 mant; 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 fast- 
 nesses 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 
 
 28 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 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 reck- 
 oning 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 success- 
 ful, otherwise my mission had been fruitless. On the 
 happy termination of it might depend, in a large meas- 
 ure, 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 navi- 
 gation 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. 
 
 *I If only the Spanish soldiery had known of our pres- 
 ence ! 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? 
 
 €J The boat in which we made the voyage was a cockle- 
 shell, "capacity 104 cubic feet." For sails we had gunny- 
 sacks, 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! 
 *i But "needs be when the devil drives!" It was our 
 only method of fulfilling the full measure of duty. 
 <fl 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 
 
 29 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 gun-boats with a craft not much larger than a skiff and 
 with sails of gunny-sacks! 
 
 <I 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! 
 
 fl 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, al- 
 ternately 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 egg-shell and many 
 times we were on the point of capsizing, but our sailors 
 knew the course, our gunny-sack 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 bolt 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. 
 
 •J "Un vapor, Senores!" (a steamer) cried the steers- 
 man. 
 €J A feeling of alarm agitated every heart. Suppose it 
 
 30 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 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. 
 *l Could it be the Spanish fleet? 
 
 €fl 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 gun-boat 
 might have escaped their vigilance and if so might over- 
 take 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 dark- 
 ness 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 Bahama group and right gladly did we 
 land there for a brief rest. 
 
 <I That afternoon we overhauled a sponging schooner, 
 with a crew of thirteen negroes, who spoke some out- 
 landish gibberish we did not understand, but sign lan- 
 guage 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 accor- 
 deon again. Tired almost to the point of utter exhaus- 
 tion, I vainly sought sleep but the shrill notes of that 
 instrument prevented it. 
 
 ^ Next afternoon we were captured by quarantine offi- 
 cials 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. 
 CJ But next day I got word to the American consul- 
 general, Mr. McLean, and on May 10 he arranged our 
 
 31 
 
HOW I CARRIED THE MESSAGE TO GARCIA 
 
 release. May 11 the schooner Fearless drew near the 
 wharf and we went aboard. 
 
 ^ We had got in behind Florida Keys when luck de- 
 serted 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. 
 
 <I We arrived on schedule time and I reported to Rus- 
 sell 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: 
 tj "I also recommend that First Lieutenant Andrew S. 
 Rowan, 19th U. S. Infantry, be made a lieutenant-col- 
 onel 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 judgment Lieutenant Rowan performed an act of 
 heroism and cool daring that has rarely been excelled 
 in the annals of warfare." 
 
 <I 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 communi- 
 cated 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 
 
 €J "Is not to reason why," 
 but to obey his orders. 
 ^ I had carried my message to Garcia. 
 
 P fl -2 2.2. 
 

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 history of the world. 
 
 If you liked "HOW I CARRIED THE MES- 
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 or better still, send them a cony. We will mail 
 one to your friends on the receipt of your order. 
 
 SINOLE COPIES ..... 2$ Ct*. 
 
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 For prices on Larger Quantities write 
 
 Walter D. Harney, Publisher 
 
 Hewes Building, 
 
 San Francisco, California 
 
 "The thing leaped hot from my heart, written 
 after a trying day. 
 
 The immediate suggestion came from a little ar- 
 gument over the teacups, when my boy Bert sug- 
 gested that Rowan was the real hero of the Cuban 
 War. Rowan had gone alone and done the thing 
 — carried the message to "Garcia. 
 It came to me like a flash! Yes, the boy is right. 
 The hero is the man who does his work^-who 
 carries the Message to Garcia. I got up from the 
 table, and wrote "A MESSAGE TO GARCIA." 
 The edition went out and soon orders began to 
 come for extra copies. A dozen, fifty, a hundred, 
 a thousand, and yes, a hundred thousand. Then 
 in half million lots until finally it was translated ] 
 into nearly every language." 2 
 
 , » » .»>. |i«, » < ,» ».»» »». t , »i « l ^i> <m l »it l w ii i»i|. » i. ».*. »- i »i 
 
EH fr* *Wfr #- >%m* Jl* * * 9*J l^ m <^l p + * **n*~**to*~*<^^ 
 
 INITIATIVE 
 
 HE World bestows its big prizes, both 
 
 in money^and honors, for but one thing. 
 
 CJ And that* is Initiative. iJ What is 
 
 Initiative? IJ 111 tell you: It is doing 
 
 the right thing without being told, fl But 
 
 next to doing the thing without being told is 
 
 to do it when you are told once. That is to 
 
 say, carry the Message to Garcia: those who 
 
 can carry a message get high honors, but their 
 
 pay is not always in proportion. Next, there 
 
 are those who never do a thing until they are 
 
 told twice; such get f no honors and small pay. 
 
 -H Next, there are those who do the right 
 
 .thing only when necessity kicks them from 
 
 behind, and these get indifference instead of 
 
 honors, and a pittance for pay. This kind 
 
 spends most of its time polishing a bench with 
 
 a hard-luck story, fl Then, still lower down 
 
 in the scale than this, we have the fellow who 
 
 will not do the right thing even when some 
 
 one goes along to show him how and stays to 
 
 see that he does it; he is always out of a job, 
 
 and receives the contempt he deserves, unless 
 
 he happens to have a rich Pa, in which case 
 
 Destiny patiently awaits around the corner 
 
 with a stuffed club. *| To which class do you 
 
 belong?— -ELBERT HUBBARD. 
 

 
 
W-84 / .^