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Title: American Boy's Life of Theodore Roosevelt
Author: Stratemeyer, Edward, 1862-1930
Language: English
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[Handwritten inscription: To Elmer, A Merry Christmas from Papa & Mamma.





Old Glory Series

_Six Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25._


Stratemeyer Popular Series

_Ten Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.00._


War and Adventure Stories

_Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25._


American Boys' Biographical Series

_Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25._


Colonial Series

_Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25._


Pan-American Series

_Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25._


Great American Industries Series

_Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.00, net._

JOE, THE SURVEYOR. _Price, $1.00_.
LARRY, THE WANDERER. _Price, $1.00_.












_Copyright, 1904, by Lee And Shepard._

_All Rights Reserved._


Norwood Press
J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.


The life of Theodore Roosevelt is one well worth studying by any
American boy who wishes to make something of himself and mount high on
the ladder of success.

The twenty-sixth President of our country is a fine type of the true
American of to-day, full of vim and vigor, quick to comprehend, and
equally quick to act, not afraid to defend his opinions against all
comers when satisfied that he is in the right, independent, and yet not
lacking in fine social qualities, physically and morally courageous, and
with a faith in himself and his God that is bound to make for good so
long as he clings to it.

Theodore Roosevelt comes from countless generations of fighting stock,
both in this country and abroad. And yet as a youth the future hero of
San Juan Hill was a delicate lad, and many fears were entertained that
he might not live to manhood. But life in the open air, with judicious
athletic exercise, accomplished wonders, and he became strong and hardy
to an astonishing degree.

The boyhood days of the future President were spent in New York City and
at the family's country home, Oyster Bay, Long Island. From there he
went to Harvard College, from which he graduated with high honors. Still
somewhat delicate in health, he travelled in Europe, studied for a short
time at Dresden, and took to climbing the Alps and other noted

His mind had gravitated toward literature, and he was writing a naval
history of the War of 1812 when something prompted him to take up
politics, and almost before he knew it he was elected a New York State
assemblyman. He served in this capacity for three terms, and many are
the stories told of how he fought against corruption first, last, and
all the time.

The death of his first wife and of his beloved mother were at this time
a great blow to him, and leaving his one little daughter with relatives,
he struck out for the great West, where, in the Bad Lands, so called, he
located as ranchman and hunter, filling in his spare hours by studying
and by writing on various outdoor subjects, works which have become
decidedly popular, and which show well his gifts as an author and as an
observer of nature.

While still in great part a successful ranchman, he ran for mayor of New
York and was defeated. He now devoted himself with increased energy to
his literary labors until, soon after, he was appointed by President
Harrison a member of the Civil Service Commission. He served on this
commission with marked ability for six years, when he resigned to become
police commissioner of New York City.

Theodore Roosevelt's work as a police commissioner will not be readily
forgotten. The whole tone of the service was at once raised, and for the
first time in many years the metropolis had "dry" Sundays, when every
saloon in the city was tightly closed. This strict compliance with the
law made him some enemies, but to these he paid no heed, for he was
doing only his duty.

When William McKinley was nominated for the Presidency the first time,
Theodore Roosevelt was one of his most enthusiastic supporters. Upon the
election of McKinley, John D. Long was appointed Secretary of the Navy
and Theodore Roosevelt became the First Assistant Secretary. Ever since
writing his naval history the newly appointed assistant had made a close
study of naval matters, and now he applied himself with vigor to the
duties of his office; and it was primarily through his efforts that when
the war with Spain came, our war-ships and our coast defences were in
much better condition than they had been at any time previous in our

With the outbreak of the war, Theodore Roosevelt resigned. "My duty here
is done," he said. "My place is in the field." And without loss of time
he and his intimate friend, Dr. Leonard Wood, began the organization of
that body of troops which was officially designated as the First United
States Volunteer Cavalry, but which speedily became known everywhere as
the Rough Riders,--a body as unique as the world has ever seen, being
made up of men from all over the Union, but principally from four
Territories, and including hunters, cowboys, soldiers of fortune,
foot-ball and base-ball champions, college graduates, ex-policemen, with
American, Irish, Dutch, German, Mexican, and Indian blood in their
veins,--truly a remarkable collection, but every man and officer strong
and hardy, full of courage, a good horseman, and a fine shot.

From the very start, the Rough Riders were anxious to get into the
fight, and the opportunity was not long in coming. From Florida the
command was transported to Daiquiri, on the southern coast of Cuba, and
then began the advance upon the city of Santiago, which brought on the
engagement at La Guasima, followed by the thrilling battle of San Juan
Hill, in which the Rough Riders distinguished themselves in a manner
that will never be forgotten. In the very thickest of this fight was
Colonel Roosevelt, urging his men forward to victory, regardless of the
shot and shell falling upon all sides. A hero truly, and such heroes are
not forgotten.

Upon the close of the war Theodore Roosevelt thought to retire to
private life, but this was not to be. Arriving at New York, he was
hailed with delight by thousands, and at the next election was made
governor of the Empire State. As governor he made friends in both of the
leading political parties by his straightforwardness and his sterling
honesty. Men might differ with him politically, but they could never
accuse him of doing that which he himself did not firmly believe was

His term as governor had not yet expired when President McKinley was
nominated for a second term. Again the people at large clamored for
Roosevelt, and against his earnest protestations he was forced to accept
the nomination for the Vice-Presidency. He was elected, and at the
proper time took his seat as presiding officer of the Senate.

It was at this time a blow fell upon our nation from which we have
scarcely yet recovered. President McKinley was struck down by the
cowardly hand of an assassin. The Vice-President was at this time off on
one of his favorite outings, but with all possible speed he came back
and was sworn in as President. It was a great responsibility, and many
feared that great changes in our government might result. But the fears
proved groundless. Young as he was,--and he is the youngest of all of
our Presidents,--he took upon himself the duty of carrying out the
intentions of his predecessor, and proving to the world once again that,
even though a President die, "the government at Washington still lives."

There is another side to the character of our President which must not
be overlooked. He is of strong religious convictions and a member of the
Dutch Reformed Church. It is seldom that he is given to preaching, but
when he does his words have a sincerity that proves much for the
foundation of his character. He stands for what is honest and upright in
political and private life, and although, being but human, he may make
mistakes, he remains a Chief Magistrate well deserving the highest
honors our nation can bestow.

MAY 2, 1904.


Birthplace and Ancestry of Theodore Roosevelt--His Father's
Philanthropy--City and Country Home--Days at School--Religious
Training.                                                              1


Nicknamed Teddy--Goes to Harvard College--Member of Many
Clubs--Death of Mr. Roosevelt--Anecdotes of College Life              11


Marries Miss Alice Lee--Travels in Europe--Bold Mountain
Climbing--Elected to the Assembly--Personal Encounter with
the Enemy                                                             20


Theodore Roosevelt and Governor Cleveland--Good Work as an
Assemblyman--Some Measures pushed through--Birth of Alice
Roosevelt--Death of Mr. Roosevelt's Mother                            30


Theodore Roosevelt as a Ranchman and Hunter in the Bad
Lands--Bringing down his First Buffalo--Rattlesnakes
and a Wild Goose                                                      39


Grouse and Other Small Game--The Scotchman and the Skunk--Caught
in a Hailstorm on the Prairie--Bringing down Black-tail Deer          49


Runs for Mayor of New York City--Marriage to Edith Kermit
Carew--Hunting in the Bighorn Mountains--A Wild Chase after
Three Elk                                                             63


Bringing down a Grizzly Bear--Back to New York--Appointed
a Civil Service Commissioner--The Work of the Commission              74


A Trip to the Shoshone Mountains--Caught in a Driving
Snowstorm--Back to Work--Resignation as Civil Service
Commissioner                                                          85


Appointed Police Commissioner of New York City--Corruptness
of the Department--Strenuous Endeavors to make Matters Better--A
"Dry" Sunday--Enforcing the Tenement House Law and Other Measures     94


Appointed First Assistant Secretary of the Navy--The Condition
of Affairs in Cuba--Preparing for War--Theodore Roosevelt's
Resolve                                                              104


Destruction of the _Maine_--Dewey's Victory--Theodore
Roosevelt becomes a Soldier--Organizing the Rough
Riders--Various Men in the Command                                   112


In Camp at Tampa--To Port Tampa in Coal Cars--Theodore
Roosevelt's Quick Move to obtain a Transport--The Wait in
the Harbor--Off for Cuba at Last                                     122


Life on the Transport--The Landing at Daiquiri--The March to
Siboney--The Trail through the Jungle--The Skirmish at La Guasima    132


Along the Jungle Trail--Fording the River--Opening of the Battle
of San Juan Hill--Bravery of the Rough Riders--Personal
Experiences of Theodore Roosevelt during the Battle                  142


Results of the Fight--Life in the Trenches--The Spanish Fleet
in Santiago Harbor--Another Great Naval Victory--The Rough
Riders and the Spanish Guerillas                                     154


Devotion of the Rough Riders to Theodore Roosevelt--His
Kindness to his Men--Last of the Fighting--The Truce and
Treaty of Peace                                                      163


Last Days in Cuba--The Departure for Home--Arrival at
Montauk--Caring for the Sick and Wounded--Presentation to
Theodore Roosevelt by his Men--Mustering out of the Rough
Riders                                                               171


Nominated for Governor of New York--A Rough Rider Way of
Campaigning--Elected Governor--Important Work at Albany--The
Homestead at Oyster Bay--Chopping down a Tree for Exercise           183


Great Reception to Admiral Dewey--Governor Roosevelt's
Increased Popularity--Last Annual Message as Governor--Visit
to Chicago--Remarkable Speech on the Strenuous Life                  193


The Convention at Philadelphia--Theodore Roosevelt seconds the
Nomination of William McKinley--Becomes Candidate for the
Vice-Presidency--Remarkable Tours through Many States                203


Elected Vice-President of the United States--Presides
over the Senate--Tax upon Theodore Roosevelt's Strength--Starts
on Another Grand Hunting Tour                                        214


The Roosevelt Family in the Adirondacks--The Pan-American
Exposition at Buffalo--Shooting of President McKinley--The
Vice-President's Visit--Death of the President                       223


Theodore Roosevelt's Tramp up Mount Marcy--A Message of
Importance--Wild Midnight Ride through the Mountains--On
the Special Trains from North Creek to Buffalo                       233


Takes the Oath as President--The New Chief Magistrate at
the Funeral of President McKinley--At the White House--How
the First Real Working Day was Spent                                 241


Continuing the Work begun by President McKinley--The
Panama Canal Agitation--Visit of Prince Henry of Prussia--The
President at the Charleston Exposition                               251


Destruction at St. Pierre--American Aid--The Great Coal
Strike--President Roosevelt ends the Difficulty--Tour through
New England--The Trolley Accident in the Berkshires--A Providential
Escape from Death                                                    260


New Offices at the White House--Sends a Wireless Message to King
Edward of England--End of the Trouble in Venezuela--The Canadian
Boundary Dispute--Beginning of a Trip to the West--In Yellowstone
Park                                                                 269


Dedication of the Fair Buildings at St. Louis--Continuation
of the Trip to San Francisco--Up in the Far Northwest--Back
in Washington--The Post-office Scandals--The New Republic
of Panama--A Canal at Last--Proclamation regarding the War
between Japan and Russia--Opening of the Great Fair                  277


Personal Characteristics of Theodore Roosevelt--The
President's Family--Life at the White House--Our Country
and its Future                                                       289


A.  Brief Extracts from Famous Addresses delivered
by Theodore Roosevelt                                                297

B.  List of Theodore Roosevelt's Writings                            300

C.  Chronology of the Life of Theodore Roosevelt
from 1858 to 1904                                                    302



                                                               FACING PAGE

THEODORE ROOSEVELT'S BIRTHPLACE                                         2


THEODORE ROOSEVELT AT GRADUATION, 1880                                 20

MISS ALICE LEE ROOSEVELT                                               36

EDITH KERMIT ROOSEVELT                                                 66

THEODORE ROOSEVELT AS A ROUGH RIDER                                   118

COLONEL ROOSEVELT AT MONTAUK POINT                                    176

THE ROOSEVELT HOMESTEAD AT OYSTER BAY                                 192

THEODORE ROOSEVELT                                                    202


PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT AT HIS DESK                                       252

THE WHITE HOUSE, SHOWING NEW OFFICES                                  270

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT AND CABINET, 1903                                 276

STATUE OF GENERAL SHERMAN                                             284

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT AND HIS FAMILY                                    292




"Our country calls not for the life of ease, but for the life of
strenuous endeavor. The twentieth century looms before us big with the
fate of many nations. If we stand idly by, if we seek merely swollen,
slothful ease and ignoble peace, if we shrink from the hard contests
where men must win at hazard of their lives and at the risk of all they
hold dear, then the bolder and stronger peoples will pass us by and will
win for themselves the domination of the world. Let us therefore boldly
face the life of strife, resolute to do our duty well and manfully;
resolute to uphold righteousness by deed and by word; resolute to be
both honest and brave, to serve high ideals, yet to use practical
methods. Above all, let us not shrink from strife, moral or physical,
within or without the nation, provided that we are certain that the
strife is justified; for it is only through strife, through hard and
dangerous endeavor, that we shall ultimately win the goal of true
national greatness."

These words, taken from President Roosevelt's remarkable speech on "The
Strenuous Life," show well the character of the man, his lofty ideals,
his sterling courage, his absolute honesty, and unwavering patriotism.
He is a typical American in the best sense of the word, and his life is
worthy of careful study. From it American boys of to-day, and in
generations to come, may gain lessons that will do them much good.

Theodore Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth President of our country, was born
in New York City, October 27, 1858. The place of his birth was the old
family mansion at 28 East Twentieth Street, in a neighborhood which, at
that time, was the abode of wealth and culture. The building is one
of a row, of a type to be seen in hundreds of other places, of brick and
stone, four stories and a basement high, the upper floor being an attic.
A heavy railing runs from in front of the basement up the broad front
steps to the doorway. Inside, the rooms are large and comfortably
arranged, and there was, in those days, quite a nice garden in the rear.


It can truthfully be said that Theodore Roosevelt comes from a race of
soldiers and statesmen, and that Dutch, Scotch, French, and Irish blood
flows in his veins. This being so, it is no wonder that, when the
Spanish-American War broke out, he closed his desk as Assistant
Secretary of the Navy, saying, "My duty here is done; my place is in the
field," and went forth to win glory on the battle-field of San Juan

Five generations of Roosevelts lived in or near New York previous to the
birth of Theodore Roosevelt, the father of the President, in 1831.
Nearly all were well-to-do, and many served the city and the state as
aldermen and members of the legislature. During the Revolution they
followed under Washington's banner, and their purses were wide open to
further the cause of independence.

Theodore Roosevelt the elder was a merchant and banker; a man broad in
his views and filled with the spirit of genuine philanthropy. He founded
one of the hospitals of the city and was at one time chairman of the
State Board of Charities. A story is told of him which is probably true.
One day Charles Loring Brace came to him for financial assistance in
establishing homes for the little waifs of the city.

"I will see what I can do," said Mr. Roosevelt. "But you know that just
at present I am busy with other charitable works."

"I know that," said Mr. Brace. "But what I ask for is very much needed.
The waifs and poor, homeless newsboys have no shelter."

The next day, when returning from the establishment in which he was a
partner, Mr. Roosevelt came upon a newsboy sitting on a doorstep, crying

"What is the matter, my little man?" he asked.

"I lost me money; it dropped down into de sewer hole!" sobbed the ragged
urchin. "Every cent of it is gone."

Mr. Roosevelt questioned the lad and found out that the boy had no home
and that his only relative was a longshoreman who was hardly ever sober.
He gave the lad some money to replace the amount lost, and the next day
sent word to Mr. Brace that he would do all he possibly could toward
establishing the waifs' shelters that were so much needed. The Newsboys'
Lodging House of New York City is one of the results of Mr. Roosevelt's
practical charities. He also did much to give criminals a helping hand
when they came from prison, stating that that was the one time in their
lives when they most needed help, for fear they might slip back into
their previous bad habits.

In 1853 Theodore Roosevelt the elder married Miss Martha Bullock, of
Roswell, Cobb County, Georgia. Miss Bullock was the daughter of Major
James S. Bullock and a direct descendant of Archibald Bullock, the first
governor of Georgia. It will thus be seen that the future President had
both Northern and Southern blood in his make-up, and it may be added
here that during the terrible Civil War his relatives were to be found
both in the Union and the Confederate ranks. Mrs. Roosevelt was a strong
Southern sympathizer, and when a certain gathering, during the Civil
War, was in progress at the Roosevelt city home, she insisted upon
displaying a Confederate flag at one of the windows.

"I am afraid it will make trouble," said Mr. Roosevelt; and he was
right. Soon a mob began to gather in the street, clamoring that the flag
be taken down.

"I shall not take it down," said Mrs. Roosevelt, bravely. "The room is
mine, and the flag is mine. I love it, and nobody shall touch it.
Explain to the crowd that I am a Southern woman and that I love my

There being no help for it, Mr. Roosevelt went to the front door and
explained matters as best he could. A few in the crowd grumbled, but
when Mrs. Roosevelt came to the window and looked down on the gathering,
one after another the men went away, and she and her flag remained

Theodore Roosevelt, the future President, was one of a family of four.
He had a brother Elliott and two sisters. His brother was several years
younger than himself, but much more robust, and would probably have
lived many years and have distinguished himself, had he not met death in
a railroad accident while still a young man.

In the years when Theodore Roosevelt was a boy, New York City was not
what it is to-day. The neighborhood in which he lived was, as I have
already mentioned, a fashionable one, and the same may be said of many
other spots near to Union Square, where tall business blocks were yet
unknown. The boys and girls loved to play in the little park and on the
avenue, and here it was that the rather delicate schoolboy grew to know
Edith Carew, who lived in Fourteenth Street and who was his school
companion. Little did they dream in those days, as they played together,
that one day he would be President and she his loving wife, the mistress
of the White House.

Mr. Roosevelt was a firm believer in public institutions, and he did not
hesitate to send his children to the public schools, especially his
boys, that they might come in direct personal contact with the great
outside world. So to a near-by institution of learning Theodore and
Elliott trudged day after day, with their school-books under their arms,
just as thousands of other schoolboys are doing to-day. But in those
days there were few experiments being tried in the schools, and manual
training and the like were unknown. The boys were well grounded in
reading, writing, and arithmetic, as well as spelling, history, and
geography, and there was great excitement when a "spelling-bee" was in
progress, to see who could spell the rest of the class or the gathering

It is said upon good authority that Theodore Roosevelt was a model
scholar from the start. He loved to read Cooper's "Leatherstocking
Tales," and works of travel, and preferred books above anything else.
But when he found that constant studying was ruining his constitution,
he determined to build himself up physically as well as mentally.

In the summer time the family often went to the old Roosevelt "out of
town" mansion on Long Island. This was called "Tranquillity," a fine
large place near Oyster Bay, set in a grove of beautiful trees. The
journey to "Tranquillity" was in those days a tedious one, but the
Roosevelt children did not mind it, and once at the old place they were
certain of a good time so long as their vacation lasted. Here it was
that Theodore Roosevelt learned to ride on horseback and how to handle a
gun. And here, too, the boys would go boating, fishing, and bathing, to
their hearts' content.

Mr. Theodore Roosevelt the elder was a member of the Dutch Reformed
Church, and the religious teaching of his children was not neglected. At
an early age the future President became a member of that denomination
and has remained a member ever since. The church was on the East Side,
and had high-backed pews, and here were delivered sermons that were as
long as they were full of strength and wisdom. That these sermons had
their full effect upon the future President is shown by his addresses
delivered before the Young Men's Christian Association of New York City
and a church community of the West, years later. In addressing the
Young Men's Christian Association Mr. Roosevelt, who was then governor
of the State, said:--

"The vice of envy is not only dangerous, but also a mean vice, for it is
always a confession of inferiority. It may provoke conduct which will be
fruitful of wrong to others; and it must cause misery to the man who
feels it. It will not be any the less fruitful of wrong and misery if,
as is often the case with evil motives, it adopts some high-sounding
alias. The truth is, gentlemen, that each one of us has in him certain
passions and instincts which, if they gain the upper hand in his soul,
would mean that the wild beast had come uppermost in him. Envy, malice,
and hatred are such passions, and they are just as bad if directed
against a class or group of men as if directed against an individual."

Golden words, well worth remembering. A person who believes in them with
all his heart cannot go far wrong in his actions, no matter what his
station in life.



The instincts of the hunter must have been born in Theodore Roosevelt.
His first gun was given to him when he was ten years of age, and for the
time being his books and his studies were forgotten, and he devoted his
whole time and attention to shooting at a target set up in the garden of
the country home and in going out with the older folks after such small
game as were to be found in that vicinity.

The horses on the place were his pets, and he knew the peculiarities of
each as well as did the man who cared for them. Riding and driving came
to him as naturally as breathing, and the fact that a steed was
mettlesome did not daunt him.

"My father often drove four-in-hand," he has said. "I liked very much to
go with him, and I liked to drive, too."

Theodore Roosevelt's schoolboy days were not far out of the ordinary. He
studied hard, and if he failed in a lesson he did his best to make it up
the next time. It is well said that there is no royal road to learning,
and even a future President must study just as hard as his classmates if
he wants to keep up with them. Sometimes he was absent from school on
account of sickness, and then it was a sharp struggle to keep from
dropping behind.

"In those days nobody expected Teddy Roosevelt to amount to a great
deal," some one has said. "He was thin, pale, and delicate, and suffered
with his eyes. But he pulled through, and when he took to athletics, it
was wonderful how he got stronger."

By his intimate companions, and indeed by nearly everybody who knew him,
he was called Teddy, and this nickname clung to him when he went forth
into the great world to become a governor and a president. How the
nickname came first into use is not known.

Since those schoolboy days Mr. Roosevelt has been asked this

"What did you expect to be, or dream of being, when you were a boy?"

"I do not recollect that I dreamed at all or planned at all," was the
answer. "I simply obeyed the injunction, 'Whatever thy hand findeth to
do, do that with all thy might,' and so I took up what came along as it

In 1876, while the great Centennial Exhibition was being held at
Philadelphia in commemoration of one hundred years of national liberty,
Theodore Roosevelt took up his residence at Cambridge, Massachusetts,
and became a student at Harvard College. During the previous year his
health had been poor indeed, but now he had taken hold of himself in

"I determined to be strong and well, and did everything to make myself
so," he has said. "By the time I entered Harvard I was able to take part
in whatever sports I liked."

As perhaps some of my readers know, Harvard College (now termed a
University) is the oldest and largest institution of learning in the
United States. It was founded in 1636, and among its graduates numbered
John Quincy Adams, sixth President of our country. The college proper is
located in Cambridge, but some of the attached schools are in Boston.

Theodore Roosevelt was rich enough to have lived in elegant style while
at Harvard, but he preferred unostentatious quarters, and took two rooms
in the home of Benj. H. Richardson, at what was then No. 16 and is now
No. 88 Winthrop Street. The residence is a neat and comfortable one,
standing on the southwest corner of Winthrop and Holyoke streets.

The young student had two rooms on the second floor,--one of good size,
used for a study, and a small bedroom. In the whole four years he was at
the college he occupied these rooms, and he spent a great deal of time
in fixing them up to suit his own peculiar taste. On the walls were all
sorts of pictures and photographs, along with foils and boxing-gloves,
and the horns of wild animals. On a shelf rested some birds which he had
himself stuffed, and books were everywhere.


"It was a regular den, and typical of Roosevelt to the last degree," a
student of those times has said. "He had his gun there and his
fishing rod, and often spoke of using them. He was noted for trying to
get at the bottom of things, and I remember him well on one occasion
when I found him with a stuffed bird in one hand and a natural history
in the other, trying to decide if the description in the volume covered
the specimen before him." When Roosevelt graduated from college, he was
one of a very few that took honors, and the subject of his essay was
natural history. How his love of natural history continued will be shown
later when we see him as a ranchman and hunter of the West.

Theodore Roosevelt had decided to make the most of himself, and while at
Harvard scarcely a moment was wasted. If he was not studying, he was in
the gymnasium or on the field, doing what he could to make himself
strong. He was a firm believer in the saying that a sound body makes a
sound mind, and he speedily became a good boxer, wrestler, jumper, and
runner. He wrestled a great deal, and of this sport says:--

"I enjoyed it immensely and never injured myself. I think I was a good
deal of a wrestler, and though I never won a championship, yet more
than once I won my trial heats and got into the final rounds."

At running he was equally good. "I remember once we had a stiff run out
into the country," said a fellow-student. "Roosevelt was behind at the
start, but when all of the others got played out he forged ahead, and in
the end he beat us by several minutes. But he never bragged about it.
You see, it wasn't his style."

With all his other sports, and his studying, the young collegian did not
give up his love for driving. He had a good horse and a fancy cart,--one
of the elevated sort with large wheels,--and in this turnout he was seen
many a day, driving wherever it pleased him to go. Sometimes he would
get on the road with other students, and then there was bound to be more
or less racing.

With a strong love for natural history it was not surprising that he
joined the Natural History Club of the college, and of this he was one
of the most active members. He also joined the Athletic Association, of
which he was a steward, and the Art Club, the Rifle Corps, the O.K.
Society, and the Finance Club. In his senior year he became a member of
the Porcellian Club, the Hasty Pudding, and the Alpha Delta Phi Club,
and also one of the editors of a college paper called the _Advocate_. On
Sundays he taught a class of boys, first in a mission school, and then
in a Congregational Sunday school. It was a life full of planning, full
of study, and full of work, and it suited Theodore Roosevelt to the last

As he grew older his love of natural history was supplemented by a love
for the history of nations, and particularly by a love of the history of
his own country. The war of 1812 interested him intensely, and before he
graduated he laid plans for writing a history of this war, which should
go into all the details of the memorable naval conflicts.

It was while in his third year at Harvard that Theodore Roosevelt
suffered the first heavy affliction of his life. On February 9, 1878,
his father died. It was a cruel blow to the family, and one from which
the faithful wife scarcely recovered. The son at Harvard felt his loss
greatly, and it was some time before he felt able to resume his studies.
The elder Roosevelt's work as a philanthropist was well known, and many
gathered at his bier to do him honor, while the public journals were
filled with eulogies of the man. The poor mourned bitterly that he was
gone, and even the newsboys were filled with regret over his taking
away. In speaking of his parent, President Roosevelt once said: "I can
remember seeing him going down Broadway, staid and respectable business
man that he was, with a poor sick kitten in his coat pocket, which he
had picked up in the street." Such a man could not but have a heart
overflowing with goodness.

While at college Theodore Roosevelt often showed that self-reliance for
which he has since become famous. To every study that he took up he
applied himself closely, and if he was not at the head of the class, he
was by no means near the foot. When he was sure of a thing, no amount of
argument could convince him that he was wrong, and he did not hesitate
at times to enter into a discussion even with some of the professors
over him.

Although a close student, and also a good all-round athlete, Theodore
Roosevelt did not forget his social opportunities. Boston was but a
short distance from his rooms in Cambridge, and thither he often went to
visit the people he had met or to whom he had letters of introduction.
He was always welcome, for his manner was a winning one, and he usually
had something to tell that was of interest--something of what he had
seen or done, of the next foot-ball or base-ball game, of the coming
boat races, of his driving or exploring, or of how he had added a new
stuffed bird to his collection, or a new lizard, and of how a far-away
friend had sent him a big turtle as a souvenir of an ocean trip in the
South Seas. There is a story that this big turtle got loose one night
and alarmed the entire household by crawling through the hallway,
looking for a pond or mud-hole in which to wallow. At first the turtle
was mistaken for a burglar, but he soon revealed himself by his angry
snapping, and it was hard work making him a prisoner once more.



It was a proud and happy day for Theodore Roosevelt when, in the summer
of 1880, he was graduated from Harvard. He took scholarly as well as
social honors, and came forth a Phi Beta Kappa man. His fellow-students
wished him well, and his family greeted him most affectionately.

Yet with it all there was just a bit of melancholy in this breaking away
from a place that had been as a second home to him for four long years.
The students were scattering to the four points of the compass, and he
might never see some of them again. But others were there whom he was to
meet later, and who were destined to march under him up the bullet-swept
slopes of San Juan in far-away Cuba. But at that time there was no
thought of war and carnage, only good-fellowship, with addresses and
orations, music, flying flags, and huge bonfires and fireworks at night.
Happy college days were they, never to be forgotten.


While a student at Harvard, Theodore Roosevelt had become intimately
acquainted with Miss Alice Lee, of Boston, a beautiful girl who was a
member of an aristocratic family of that city. The young college student
was a frequent visitor at the home of the Lees, and on September 23,
1880, the two were married.

It had been decided that Theodore Roosevelt should travel in Europe
after graduating. His father had left the family well provided for, so
there was no rush to get into something whereby a living might be
earned. Yet Theodore Roosevelt had long since determined not to be an
idler. He would travel and improve his mind, and then settle down to
that for which he seemed best fitted.

To Europe then he went, accompanied by his bride, to study a little and
to visit the art galleries and museums, the palaces of kings and queens,
and the many great cities of that continent. He travelled through
Italy, Switzerland, Germany, France, and the British Isles, taking note
of everything he saw and comparing it with what he had seen in his own
country. When in lower Europe, the spirit of adventure seized him, and
he climbed those lofty mountains of the Alps, the Jungfrau and the
Matterhorn, and for those deeds of daring was made a member of the
Alpine Club of London. It may be mentioned here that climbing the
mountains mentioned is a very difficult feat, and that more than one
traveller has lost his life in such attempts. The peaks are covered with
snow and ice; the path from one cliff to the next is narrow and
uncertain, and a fall into some dark and fearful hollow usually means
death. But the danger only urged Theodore Roosevelt on, and added zest
to the undertaking.

He was intensely interested in all he saw, both in Europe proper and in
the British Isles, but wrote that he was glad to get back home again,
among his own people. To him there was no country like America, the land
of _Golden Opportunity_, as one of our most noted writers has called it.
In Europe there was more or less a lack of personal liberty; here a man
could try to make what he pleased of himself, be it cobbler or

The young college graduate had an uncle in New York, named Robert B.
Roosevelt, who was a well-known lawyer. On his return to this country
Theodore Roosevelt entered his uncle's office, and likewise took up the
study of law at Columbia University, attending the lectures given by
Professor Dwight. Here again his search after what he termed "bottom
facts" came to light, and he is well remembered as a member of the law
class because of the way he frequently asked questions and called for
explanations--accepting nothing as a fact until it was perfectly clear
in his own mind. The interruptions did not always suit the professor or
the other students, yet they were often the means of clearing up a point
that was hazy to many others who had not the courage to thrust forth
their inquiries as did Theodore Roosevelt.

"He wants to know it all," said one student, in disgust.

"Well, never mind; I wish I knew it all," answered another. "I guess he
knows what he is doing." And in this he was right; Theodore Roosevelt
knew exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

The young man was now twenty-three years of age, broad-shouldered, and
in much better health than ever before. He had not abandoned his
athletic training, and would often run out to the old home at Oyster Bay
for a tramp into the woods or on a hunting tour.

While still studying law, Theodore Roosevelt entered politics by taking
an active part in a Republican primary. He lived in the twenty-third
assembly district of the state. The district included a great number of
rich and influential citizens, and on that account was called the
"Diamond Back District."

"Let us put up young Roosevelt for Assembly," said one of the
politicians. "He's a clever fellow."

"That may be," said another. "But I don't know that we can manage him.
He seems a fellow who wants his own way."

"Yes, he'll want his own way, but I reckon that way will be the right
way," put in a third speaker.

No sooner had Theodore Roosevelt's name been mentioned as a possible
candidate than there was a storm of opposition from some politicians who
had in the past ruled the district with a rod of iron. It was a
Republican district, so that the contest for the place was entirely in
the primary.

"If he is nominated and elected, our power will be gone," they told
themselves; and set to work without delay to throw the nomination into
the hands of somebody else.

Theodore Roosevelt suspected what was going on, but he said nothing to
those who opposed him. With his friends he was very frank, and told them
that if he was nominated he would do his best to win the election and
serve them honestly in the legislature.

His open-heartedness won him many friends, and when the primary was
held, those who had opposed him were chagrined to see him win the
nomination with votes to spare. Some at once predicted that he would not
be elected.

"Those who opposed him at the primary will not vote for him," they
said. "They would rather help the Democrats."

But this prediction proved false. At the election Theodore Roosevelt was
elected with a good majority. It was his first battle in the political
arena and if he felt proud over it, who can blame him?

The State Capitol of New York is, as my young readers must know, at
Albany, on the Upper Hudson, and hither the young assemblyman journeyed.
The assemblymen poured in from all over the state, and were made up of
all sorts and conditions of men, including bankers, farmers, merchants,
contractors, liquor dealers, and even prize-fighters. Many of these men
were thoroughly honest, but there were others who were there for gain
only, and who cared little for the passing of just laws.

The party to which Theodore Roosevelt belonged was in the minority, so
that the young assemblyman found he would have to struggle hard if he
expected to be heard at all. But the thoughts of such a struggle only
put him on his mettle, and he plunged in with a vigor that astonished
his opponents and caused great delight to his friends.

"He is fearless," said one who had voted for him. "He will make things
warm for those who don't want to act on the square." And he certainly
did make it warm, until a certain class grew to fear and hate him to
such a degree that they plotted to do him bodily harm.

"He has got to learn that he must mind his own business," was the way
one of these corruptionists reasoned.

"But what can we do?" asked another. "He's as sharp on the floor of the
Assembly as a steel trap."

"We'll get Stubby to brush up against him," said a third.

Stubby was a bar-room loafer who had been at one time something of a
pugilist. He was a thoroughly unprincipled fellow, and it was known that
he would do almost anything for money.

"Sure, I'll fix him," said Stubby. "You just leave him to me and see how
I polish him off."

The corruptionists and their tool met at the Delavan House, an
old-fashioned hotel at which politicians in and around the capital were
wont to congregate, and waited for the young assemblyman. Roosevelt was
not long in putting in an appearance and was soon in deep discussion
with some friends.

"Watch him, Stubby," said one of the young assemblyman's enemies. "Don't
let him get away from you to-night."

"I have me eye on him," answered Stubby.

Roosevelt was on the way to the buffet of the hotel when the crowd, with
Stubby in front, pushed against him rudely. The young assemblyman
stepped back and viewed those before him fearlessly.

"Say, what do yer mean, running into me that way?" demanded Stubby,

As he spoke he aimed a savage blow at Theodore Roosevelt. But the young
assemblyman had not forgotten how to box, and he dodged with an agility
that was astonishing.

"This fellow needs to be taught a lesson," Theodore Roosevelt told
himself, and then and there he proceeded to administer the lesson in a
manner that Stubby never forgot. He went down flat on his back, and
when he got up, he went down again, with a bleeding nose and one eye all
but closed. Seeing this, several leaped in to his assistance, but it was
an ill-fated move, for Roosevelt turned on them also, and down they
went, too; and then the encounter came to an end, with Theodore
Roosevelt the victor.

"And that wasn't the end of it," said one, who witnessed the affair.
"After it was over young Roosevelt was as smiling as ever. He walked
straight over to some of his enemies who had been watching the mix-up
from a distance and told them very plainly that he knew how the attack
had originated, and he was much obliged to them, for he hadn't enjoyed
himself so much for a year. Phew! but weren't those fellows mad! And
wasn't Stubby mad when he learned that they had set him against one of
the best boxers Harvard ever turned out? But after that you can make
sure they treated Roosevelt with respect and gave him a wide berth."



The career of an assemblyman is not generally an interesting one, but
Mr. Roosevelt managed to extract not a little pleasure and also some
profit from it. The experience was just what he needed to fit himself
for the larger positions he was, later on, to occupy.

One happening is of peculiar interest to note. While Theodore Roosevelt
was a member of the Assembly, Grover Cleveland became governor of the
state. Mr. Cleveland was a Democrat, while Mr. Roosevelt was a
Republican, yet the two future Presidents of the United States became
warm friends,--a friendship that has endured to the present day.

It is said that the friendship started in rather a peculiar manner.
There was at the time a measure before the Assembly to reduce the fare
of the elevated roads in New York City from ten cents to five cents.
After a great deal of talking, the bill passed the Assembly and then the
Senate, and went to the governor for his signature. Much to the surprise
of the general public Governor Cleveland vetoed the bill, stating that
when the capitalists had built the elevated roads they had understood
that the fare was to be ten cents, and that it was not right to deprive
them of their profits. At once those who wanted the measure to become a
law decided to pass it over the governor's head. When this attempt was
made, Theodore Roosevelt got up boldly and said he could not again vote
for the bill--that he was satisfied that Governor Cleveland's view of
the matter was correct.

"These people would not have put their money in the elevated railroads
had they not been assured that the fare was to be ten cents," said he.
"We are under obligation to them, and we must keep our promises." And so
the bill fell through. It was not in itself right that the fare should
be ten cents, and it has long since been reduced to five cents, but it
shows that Theodore Roosevelt was bound to do what was right and just,
according to the dictates of his own conscience, and this won for him
many friends, even among those who had opposed him politically.

In a work of this kind, intended mainly for the use of young people, it
is not necessary to do more than glance at the work which Theodore
Roosevelt accomplished while a member of the New York Assembly.

He made a close study of the various political offices of New York
County and discovered that many office-holders were drawing large sums
of money in the shape of fees for which they were doing hardly any work.
This he considered unfair, and by dint of hard labor helped to pass a
law placing such offices on the salary list, making a saving to the
county of probably half a million dollars a year.

One of the best things done by Theodore Roosevelt at that time was the
support given by him to a civil service law for the state. Up to that
time office-holding was largely in the hands of the party which happened
to be in power.

"This is all wrong," said the young assemblyman. "A clerk or anybody
else doing his duty faithfully should not be thrown out as soon as there
is a political change." The new law was passed, and this was the
beginning of what is commonly called the merit system, whereby a large
number of those who work for the state are judged solely by their
capabilities and not by their political beliefs. This system has since
been extended to other states and also to office-holding under the
national government.

Another important measure pushed through the Assembly by Theodore
Roosevelt was what was known as the Edson Charter for New York City,
giving to the mayor certain rights which in the past had rested in the
board of aldermen. This measure was defeated during Roosevelt's second
term of office, but in 1884 he pressed it with such force that it
overcame all opposition and became a law. Many have considered this
victory his very best work.

By those who knew him at this time he is described as having almost a
boyish figure, frank face, clear, penetrating eyes, and a smile of
good-natured friendship and dry humor. When he talked it was with an
earnestness that could not be mistaken. By those who were especially
bitter against him he was sometimes called a dude and a silk stocking,
but to these insinuations he paid no attention, and after the encounter
at the Delavan House his opponents were decidedly more careful as to how
they addressed him.

"Take him all the way through he was generally even tempered," one has
said who met him at that time. "But occasionally there was a flash from
his eye that made his opponent draw back in quick order. He would stand
a good deal, but there were some things he wouldn't take, and they knew
it. One thing is certain, after he was in the Assembly for a few months
everybody knew perfectly that to come to him with any bill that was the
least bit shady was a waste of time and effort. Roosevelt wouldn't stand
for it a minute."

In those days Theodore Roosevelt did not give up his habits of athletic
exercise, and nearly every day he could be seen taking long walks in the
country around Albany. In the meantime his "Naval War of 1812" was well
under way, but he could spare only a few hours occasionally to complete
his manuscript.

His married life had thus far been a happy one, and its joy was greatly
increased by the birth of his daughter Alice. As will be seen later, Mr.
Roosevelt is what is called a family man, and he took great comfort in
this new addition to his little household. But his happiness was
short-lived, for in 1884, when the daughter was but a baby, the beloved
wife died, and the little one had to be given over to the care of the
grandparents in Boston. Not many months later Mr. Roosevelt's mother
died also, heaping additional sorrow upon his head.

With the conclusion of his third term in the Assembly Theodore
Roosevelt's work as a member of that body came to an end. If he had made
some enemies, he had made more friends, and he was known as an ardent
supporter of reform in all branches of politics. In recognition of his
ability he was chosen as a delegate-at-large to the Republican
convention brought together to nominate a candidate to succeed
President Arthur.

At that time James G. Blaine from Maine had served many years in the
United States Senate, and it was thought that he would surely be both
nominated and elected. But many were opposed to Blaine, thinking he
would not support such reform measures as they wished to see advanced,
and among this number was Theodore Roosevelt.

"We must nominate Mr. Edmunds," said the young delegate-at-large, and
did his best for the gentleman in question.

"It cannot be done," said another delegate.

The convention met at Exposition Hall in Chicago, and Mr. Roosevelt was
placed on the Committee on Resolutions. It was a stormy convention, and
ballot after ballot had to be taken before a nomination could be
secured. Blaine led from the start, with Senator Edmunds a fairly close

"If Blaine is nominated, he will be defeated," said more than one.

At last came the deciding vote, and James G. Blaine was put up at the
head of the ticket, with John A. Logan for Vice-President.

At once Blaine clubs were organized all over the country, and the
Republican party did all in its power to elect its candidate. He was
called the Plumed Knight, and many political clubs wore plumes in his
honor when on parade. In the meantime the Democrats had nominated Grover

The fight was exceedingly bitter up to the very evening of election day.
When the votes were counted, it was found that Blaine had been defeated
by a large majority, and that Grover Cleveland, Roosevelt's old friend,
had won the highest gift in the hands of the nation.

His work at the convention in Chicago was Theodore Roosevelt's first
entrance into national affairs, and his speeches on that occasion will
not be readily forgotten. It was here that he came into contact with
William McKinley, with whom, sixteen years later, he was to run on the
same ticket. The records of that convention show that on one occasion
McKinley spoke directly after Roosevelt. Thus were these two drawn
together at that early day without knowing or dreaming that one was to
succeed the other to the Presidency.

But though Theodore Roosevelt was disappointed over the nomination made
at Chicago, he did not desert his party. Instead he did all he could to
lead them to victory, until the death of his mother caused him to
withdraw temporarily from public affairs.

[Illustration: Signature: Alice Lee Roosevelt]



Theodore Roosevelt had now published his "Naval History of the War of
1812," and it had created a decidedly favorable opinion among those
critics who were best able to judge of the production. It is an
authoritative work, and is to-day in the library of nearly every
American war-ship afloat, as well as in numerous government libraries in
this country, as at Washington, West Point, and Annapolis, and also in
leading libraries of England.

Being out of politics the young author thought of taking up his pen once
more. But he was restless by nature, and the loss of his wife and his
mother still weighed heavily upon him. So he took himself to the West,
to where the Little Missouri River flows in winding form through what
are called the Bad Lands of North Dakota.

Here, on the edge of the cattle country, Theodore Roosevelt had become
possessed of two ranches, one called the Elkhorn and the other Chimney
Butte. Both were located by the river, which during the dry season was
hardly of any depth at all, but which during the heavy rains, or during
the spring freshets, became a roaring torrent.

At one of these ranches Theodore Roosevelt settled down for the time
being, to rough it in hunting and raising cattle. When the weather would
not permit of his going abroad, or when the mood of the author seized
him, he wrote. As a result of these experiences he has given us a
delightful work called "The Hunting Trips of a Ranchman," first
published in 1885, giving his adventures among the cattle and while on
the hunt, sometimes alone and sometimes in company with the rude but
honest cow punchers and plainsmen who surrounded him.

Mr. Roosevelt has described the ranch at which he lived for the greater
part of his time as a long, low, story-high house of hewn logs, clean
and neat, and with many rooms. It faced the river, and in front was a
long, low veranda, where one might idle on a clear, warm day to his
heart's content. Inside, the main room contained a shelf full of the
owner's favorite outdoor books and the walls half-a-dozen pet pictures.
Rifles and shot-guns stood handy in corners, and on pegs and deer horns
hung overcoats of wolf or coon skin and gloves of otter or beaver.

That Theodore Roosevelt was a close observer of all that occurred around
him is proved by his writings. With great minuteness he has described
his life at the ranch home and while in the saddle, both in winter and
summer, telling of his experiences while rounding up cattle and while
bringing down waterfowl and larger game of various kinds. He likewise
describes the trained hunters he has met at different seasons of the
year, and tells of what they have done or were trying to do.

At this time his favorite horse was a steed called Manitou. But when on
a round-up of cattle, many ponies were taken along, so that a fresh
mount could be had at any time. It was a breezy, free life, and to it
our President undoubtedly owes the rugged constitution that he possesses

His observations led him to make many investigations concerning the
smaller wild animals near his ranches and the larger beasts to be found
farther off. The tales which were told to him by other ranchmen and
hunters he always took "with a grain of salt," and he soon reached the
conclusion that many of the so-styled mighty hunters were only such in
name, and had brought down quantities of game only in years gone by when
such game was plentiful and could be laid low without much trouble. Once
when a man told him he had brought down a certain beast at four hundred
yards, Roosevelt measured the distance and found it to be less than half

"You couldn't fool him on much," said one of the persons who met him
about that time. "He would take precious little for granted. He wanted
to know the how of everything, and he wasn't satisfied until he did

Regarding his own powers as a hunter at that time, Mr. Roosevelt is very
modest. He says his eyesight was rather poor, and his hand not over
steady, so that "drawing a bead" on anything was not easy. Yet he went
into the sport with much enthusiasm, and if at times he came back at
nightfall empty-handed, he did not complain, and he was almost certain
to have something interesting to tell of what he had seen.

Theodore Roosevelt had been in this territory before, although not to
remain any great length of time. Once he had come out to hunt buffalo,
no easy thing to do, since this game was growing scarcer every day. He
had a guide named Ferris, who was not particularly struck with the
appearance of the pale young man, plainly dressed, whom he met at the
railroad station.

"I sized him up as not being able to endure a long trip after a
buffalo," said the guide, in speaking afterward of the meeting. "He was
well mounted, but he looked as if he might play out before the sun went

But in this the guide was mistaken. Roosevelt proved that he could ride
as well as anybody. The first night out found the hunters about thirty
miles from any settlement. They went into camp on the open prairie,
tethering their horses with ropes fastened to their saddles, which they
used as pillows.

All went well for an hour or two, when the improvised pillow was jerked
from beneath Theodore Roosevelt's head, and he heard his horse bounding
away in the distance.

"Wolves!" cried the guide. "They have frightened our horses!"

So it proved; and the hunters lost no time in reaching for their
firearms. But the wolves kept their distance, and soon Theodore
Roosevelt was running after the horses, which, after a good deal of
trouble, he secured and brought back. After that the guide no longer
looked on him as a "tenderfoot."

"A tenderfoot," said he, "would have been scared to death. But Teddy
Roosevelt was as cool as a cucumber through it all--as if the happening
wasn't in the least out of the ordinary."

For several days the hunters remained on the prairie looking for
buffalo, but without success. They were on the point of turning back
when the guide noticed that the horses were growing uneasy.

"Some big game at hand," he announced. "Come on to yonder washout and
see if I am not right."

With great caution the hunters advanced to the washout the guide had
mentioned. Dismounting, they crept forward in the shelter of the
brushwood, and there, true enough, resting at his ease was a great
buffalo bull.

"Hit him where the patch of red shows on his side," whispered the guide,
and Roosevelt nodded to show that he understood. With care and coolness
he took aim and fired, and the buffalo bull leaped up and staggered
forward with the blood streaming from his mouth and nose.

"Shall I give him another?" was the question asked, but before it could
be answered the buffalo bull gave a plunge and fell dead.

Rattlesnakes are rather unpleasant reptiles to deal with, and Theodore
Roosevelt has shown his bravery by the way in which he speaks of them in
his accounts of outdoor life. He says to a man wearing alligator boots
there is little danger, for the fang of the reptile cannot go through
the leather, and the snake rarely strikes as high as one's knee. But he
had at least one experience with a rattlesnake not readily forgotten.

He was out on a hunt for antelope. The sage-brush in which he was
concealing himself was so low that he had to crawl along flat on his
breast, pushing himself forward with hands and feet as best he could.

He was almost on the antelope when he heard a warning whirr close at his
side, and glancing hastily in that direction, saw the reptile but a few
feet away, coiled up and ready to attack.

It was a thrilling and critical moment, and had the young hunter leaped
up he might have been dangerously if not fatally struck. But by instinct
he backed away silently and moved off in another direction through the
brush. The rattlesnake did not follow, although it kept its piercing
eyes on the hunter as long as possible. After the antelope stalk was
over, Roosevelt came back to the spot, made a careful search, and,
watching his chance, fired on the rattlesnake, killing it instantly.

In those days Theodore Roosevelt met Colonel William Cody, commonly
known as "Buffalo Bill," and many other celebrated characters of the
West. He never grew tired of listening to the stories these old
trappers, hunters, scouts, and plainsmen had to tell, and some of these
stories he afterward put into print, and they have made excellent

During many of his hunting expeditions at that time Theodore Roosevelt
was accompanied by his foreman, a good shot and all-round ranchman named
Merrifield. Merrifield had been in the West but five years, but the life
fitted him exactly, and in him Roosevelt the ranchman and hunter found a
companion exactly to his liking, fearless and self-reliant to the last

As perhaps most of my young readers know, wild geese are generally
brought down with a shot-gun, but in the Bad Lands it was not unusual to
bring them down with a rifle, provided the hunter was quick and accurate
enough in his aim. One morning, just before dawn, Theodore Roosevelt was
riding along the edge of a creek when he heard a cackling that he knew
must come from some geese, and he determined if possible to lay one low.

It was easy work to dismount and crawl to the edge of the creek. But a
fog lay over the water, and he could see the geese but indistinctly.
Leaving the creek bank, he ran silently to where the watercourse made a
turn and then crawled forward in the brush. Soon the fog lifted once
more, and he saw the geese resting on the water close to the bend. He
fired quickly and brought down the largest of the flock, while the
others lost no time in disappearing. It was a good fat goose and made
excellent eating.



It cannot be said that Theodore Roosevelt's venture as a ranchman was a
very successful one, and it is doubtful if he expected to make much
money out of it. He lost nothing in a financial way, and there is no
doubt but that the experience was of great benefit to him. In this
semi-wilderness he met all sorts and conditions of men, and grew to know
them thoroughly. In the past his dealings had been almost entirely with
people of large cities and towns, and with men of learning and large
business affairs; here he fell in with the wildest kind of cowboys and
frontiersmen. Some he soon found were not fit to be associated with, but
the majority proved as honest and hard-working fellows as could be met
with anywhere. Many of these loved the young "boss" from the start, and
when, years later, the war with Spain broke out, and there was a call
to arms, not a few of them insisted upon joining the Rough Riders just
to be near Theodore Roosevelt once more.

Around the ranches owned by Theodore Roosevelt there were more or less
grouse of the sharp-tailed variety. As this sort of game made excellent
eating, ranchmen and regular hunters did not hesitate to bring them down
at every opportunity.

One afternoon Theodore Roosevelt left his ranch to visit the shack of
one of his herders, about thirty-five miles down the river. It was a
cold, clear day, and he was finely mounted on a well-trained pony. He
writes that he was after grouse, hoping to get quite a number of them.

He had trusted to reach the shack long before sundown, but the way was
bad, over bottoms covered with thin ice and snow, and soon darkness came
on, leaving him practically lost in the cottonwoods that lined the

What to do the young ranchman did not know, and it is safe to say that
he wished himself heartily out of the difficulty. It was so dark he
could not see three yards ahead of him, and it was only by the merest
accident that he struck the shack at last, and then he found it empty,
for the herder had gone off elsewhere on business.

So far Roosevelt had seen no game, so he was without food, and what made
matters worse, the larder of the shack proved to be empty. All he had
with him was a little package of tea.

It was a dismal outlook truly, and especially on such a cold night. But
firewood was at hand, and after turning his pony loose to shift for
itself, the future President of our country started up housekeeping for
himself by lighting a fire, bringing in some water from under the ice of
the river, and brewing himself a good, strong cup of tea! It was not a
very nourishing meal, but it was all he had, and soon after that he went
to sleep, trusting for better luck in the morning.

He was up almost before daybreak, and my young readers can rest assured
that by that time his appetite was decidedly keen. Listening intently,
he could hear the grouse drumming in the woods close by.

"I must have some of them, and that directly," he told himself, and
rifle in hand lost no time in making his way to the woods. By keeping
out of sight behind the brushwood he managed to get quite close to the
game, and so brought down one after another until he had five. Such
success was a great satisfaction to him, and returning to the shack he
fixed himself a breakfast of broiled sharptails, to which he did full

It was not all play at the ranches, and sometimes Theodore Roosevelt
went out with his men to round up the cattle and help "cut out" what was
his own. This was hard work, for frequently the cattle did not want to
be separated from the beasts belonging to another ranchman. More than
once an angry cow or a bull would charge, and then there would be a
lively scramble on pony-back or on foot to get out of the way.
Sometimes, too, the cattle would wander off and get lost, and then a
long and hard hunt would be necessary in order to find them again.

But there was fun as well as hard work, and Mr. Roosevelt has told one
story about a skunk that is sure to be remembered. He says that skunks
were very numerous, and that they were more feared than larger animals
by the cowboys because the bite was sure to bring on hydrophobia.

One night a number of the cowboys and Mr. Roosevelt were sleeping in a
hut. A skunk came along, and after a time worked its way into the hut.
It got among the pots and pans and made a noise which quickly awoke a
Scotchman named Sandy.

Thinking something was wrong, Sandy struck a light, and seeing the eyes
of the skunk, fired. But his aim was bad, and the animal fled.

"What were you firing at?" asked half a dozen of the other cowboys.

The Scotchman explained, and, satisfied that it had been a skunk, the
others told him he had better leave the animal alone or there would be

Nobody thought the skunk would come back, but it did, and again Sandy
heard it among the pots and pans. This was too much for his Scotch
blood, and taking aim once more, he fired and gave the skunk a mortal
wound. At once the hut was filled with a powerful odor that made all
the inmates rush for the open air.

"Now see what you have done!" cried several, indignantly.

"Hoot mon!" answered the Scotchman, holding his nose tightly, "A didna
ken 'twould cause sec' a tragedee!"

And after that we may be sure that Sandy let skunks severely alone.

Hunting in the summer time, or when the weather was but moderately cold,
was well enough, but hunting in the dead of winter was quite a different
thing. Then the thermometer would frequently drop to thirty and forty
degrees below zero, and there would be a cutting "norther" fit to freeze
the very marrow in one's bones. Seldom was there much snow, but when it
came, it caused a veritable blizzard, during which neither man nor beast
felt like stirring out.

It was during such weather that Theodore Roosevelt once had the tip of
his nose and one cheek frozen--something that caused him not a little
pain and trouble for a long time afterward.

It was in those dreary days that the logs were piled high in the broad
fireplace of the ranch home, and Theodore Roosevelt spent his days in
reading and studying, in writing letters to his friends and relatives,
and in penning some of the hunting sketches that have won him literary

One day, early in the winter, Theodore Roosevelt and his foreman went
out to see if they could not bring in two white-tail deer which had been
seen in the vicinity of the ranch the day before. One of the deer, a
large buck, had been shot in the ankle by the foreman, so the beginning
of the trail was easy to follow. The buck and his mate had gone into a
thicket, and it was likely that there the pair had spent the night.

"We'll have our own trouble finding the tracks again," said the foreman.
And so it proved; for during the night some cattle and other animals had
passed in and out of the thicket, which covered a large extent of

At last the hunters hit upon the right trail, and the foreman went
ahead, leaving Roosevelt to keep somewhat toward the outside of the
cover. Both were wide-awake and on the alert, and presently the foreman
announced that he had found the spot where the wounded buck had passed
the night.

"He is not very far from here," said the foreman, and hardly had he said
this than Theodore Roosevelt heard a cracking of fallen twigs and a
breaking of the brush and lower limbs of the trees as the buck rushed
through the thicket. He ran with all speed in the direction and took
station behind a large tree.

Only a few seconds passed, and then the buck showed his head and antlers
among the brushwood. He was gazing ahead anxiously, no doubt trying to
decide if it would be safe to leap into the open and run up the trail.
Then he turned his gaze directly toward where Theodore Roosevelt was
crouching, rifle in hand.

Another instant and it would have been too late. But just as the buck's
head was turned and he sniffed the air suspiciously, the young ranchman
pulled the trigger.

"He turned his head sharply toward me as I raised the rifle," says Mr.
Roosevelt, in writing of this adventure, "and the bullet went fairly
into his throat, just under the jaw, breaking his neck, and bringing
him down in his tracks with hardly a kick."

The buck proved to be an extra fine one, and the two hunters lost no
time in dressing the game and taking it to the ranch. Not wishing to go
back for their horses, the two dragged the game over the snow, each
taking hold of an antler for that purpose. It was intensely cold, so
that each of the hunters had to drag first with one hand and then with
the other for fear of having his fingers frozen.

This was one of the times when the young ranchman and hunter was
successful in his quest. But Mr. Roosevelt has not hesitated to tell of
the many times he has gone out on the hunt only to return empty-handed
and glad enough to get back to a warm shelter and where he was sure of a
good meal.

"Ranching and hunting was no bed of roses," some one who knew him at
that time has said. "Many a time he came back utterly fagged out and not
a thing to show for his labor. But he never complained, and on the
contrary could generally tell a pretty good story about something he had
seen or had taken note of. In the summer he would examine the nests of
birds and waterfowl with great care, and I have seen him with a horned
frog before him, studying every point of the creature."

Once while on the prairie the young ranchman was caught in a heavy
hailstorm. He was out with a number of others, when, with scarcely any
warning, the sky began to grow dark, and the wind came up in fitful

"We must get out of this, and quick too," said a companion. And all
pushed onward as fast as they could. But soon the heavy fall of hail
overtook them, and they were glad enough to seek even the slight shelter
of a deep washout, where men and horses huddled close together for
protection. The hailstones came down as large as marbles, causing the
horses to jump around in a fashion that was particularly dangerous to
themselves and to their owners. The time was August, yet the air grew
very cold, and when the storm was over, some cattle were found
completely benumbed. A few had been killed, and there had likewise been
great slaughter among a flock of lambs that had been driven into the Bad
Lands the year previous.

Mr. Roosevelt tells us that the greatest number of black-tailed deer he
ever killed in one day was three. He is a true sportsman in this respect
and does not kill for the mere sake of killing. Those who go out just to
slaughter all they possibly can are not sportsmen, but butchers. To be
sure, a hunter may have to play the butcher at times, when the meat is
needed, but not otherwise.

On the occasion when the three black-tails were laid low the young
ranchman and his foreman started on the hunt very early in the morning,
when the bright moon was still in the sky. It was late in November and
stinging cold, so they allowed their horses to take their own pace,
which was far from slow.

The course of the hunters was up the bed of a dry creek, along which
they passed the still sleeping cattle and also a drove of ponies. Then
they reached a spot where they left their own steeds, and, rifles in
hand, hurried silently toward a great plateau which lay some distance
before them. Signs of deer could be seen on every hand, and both were
certain that the day's outing would prove a grand success.

Theodore Roosevelt had separated from his companion when of a sudden he
caught sight of a beautiful doe. It was a fair shot, and dropping on one
knee he took aim and fired. But to his intense chagrin the doe bounded
off and disappeared in the brushwood.

"Hit anything?" sang out the foreman.

"I am afraid not," was the answer.

"Never mind; better luck next time." And then both sank down behind a
rock where they could get a good view of a hollow ahead of them.

They had been behind the rock but a short time when they heard a
cracking of twigs, and a fine black-tail buck came cautiously into view.
Both fired, and the buck rolled over, never to rise again. Then another
deer came into view and both fired again, but the game was not struck
and lost no time in disappearing.

"Never mind; one isn't so bad," said Theodore Roosevelt, and his
companion agreed with him.

The hunters now decided to go forward into the hollow and look for the
doe Theodore Roosevelt had missed. This was done, and soon the foreman
pointed to some drops and splashes of blood.

"Must have hit her, after all," said the foreman. "We can take our time
about following her up. We'll be sure to get her sooner or later."

But locating the wounded doe proved not so easy, after all. The trail
was followed for some time, but was lost on the hard ground higher up;
and at last the two hunters agreed to look for new game. They had lunch,
and then started out nearly as fresh as before when suddenly the foreman
called out:--

"There's your game all right!"

He pointed to a clump of bushes, and running forward, both saw the doe
stretched out, stiff and cold. She had been mortally wounded, after all,
much to both hunters' gratification.

So far the hunting had been on foot, but now the hunters took again to
their steeds. Mr. Roosevelt says he was wishing for just one more shot,
to see if he could not do better than before, when his wish was
gratified. Just ahead a yearling black-tail buck leaped into view and
cantered away. After the buck went both hunters, but Theodore Roosevelt
was in the lead, and this time determined to make no miss or poor shot.
He waited until the buck turned its side to him, then fired with
especial care. The game staggered on, then fell. The bullet had gone
clean through its body, and in a few seconds it breathed its last.



Although Theodore Roosevelt was devoting himself to ranching, hunting,
and literary work in North Dakota he had by no means given up his
residence in New York or at Oyster Bay. More than this, he still
continued his connection with the Republican party in spite of the
set-back at the last National Convention.

In 1886, while Grover Cleveland was still President of the United
States, there was an exceedingly sharp and bitter fight in New York City
over the office of mayor. There was great discontent both in the
Republican and the Democratic party, and nobody could tell what was
going to happen on election day.

"Let us put up Teddy Roosevelt," said some of the Republicans, and
shortly after this Theodore Roosevelt was nominated for mayor of New
York. His regular opponent was Abram Hewitt, while the Independents put
up Henry George, the "single tax" man, well known as the author of a
book entitled "Progress and Poverty."

From the very start the campaign was an exceedingly hot one, and there
was a good deal of parading and speech-making. Many clubs were organized
in behalf of Theodore Roosevelt, and clubs were likewise formed to
support the other candidates. The supporters of Henry George came from
both regular parties, so political matters became very much mixed up.

"There is no show for Roosevelt unless George withdraws," said more than
one old politician.

"And George won't withdraw," added others. And so it proved. Henry
George was exceptionally strong with the poorer classes, and on election
day he polled over 68,000 votes; 90,552 votes were cast for Hewitt,
while Roosevelt received 60,435 votes.

It was certainly a disheartening defeat, and many a man would have
retired from the political field, never to show himself again. But
Theodore Roosevelt was made of sterner stuff. He held his ground and
went his way as before, resolved to do his duty as it should present

It was about this time that his intimacy with Miss Edith Kermit Carew
was renewed. It will be remembered that she had been his playmate during
his earlier days around Union Square. In the years that had followed she
had been graduated from a young ladies' seminary and had travelled
abroad, visiting London, Paris, and other large cities. Now she was home
again, and on December 2, 1886, she became Mr. Roosevelt's wife.

Mr. Roosevelt's second marriage has been a very happy one. Mrs.
Roosevelt is a loving wife and a gracious mistress of the White House.
Five children have come to bless their union, of which more will be said
later. Mrs. Roosevelt at once took Mr. Roosevelt's daughter Alice to her
heart, and from that time to this the two have been as mother and

Theodore Roosevelt had already produced his "Naval War of 1812" and his
"Hunting Trips of a Ranchman," both spoken of in previous pages. A
short while after he was married the second time he brought out a "Life
of Thomas Benton," and a year later a "Life of Gouverneur Morris." In
addition to this he wrote a number of articles for the magazines, and
also some short stories for young folks. All were well received and
added not a little to his literary reputation.

But the desire to be out in the open, to roam the prairie and to hunt,
was in his veins, and again and again he visited his ranches in the Bad
Lands, and took hunting trips in other directions. Sometimes he cared
little or nothing for the game brought down, and at others he went on
the hunt with great deliberation, for "something worth while," as he
expressed it.

How careful he could be on the latter occasions is shown by his printed
views on hunting, in which he discusses the best rifles, shot-guns, and
pistols to use, the best knives to carry, how to dress with comfort, and
how to follow up game, on horseback and on foot, in the open and when in
the woods or in the short brush. He has also told us much about the
habits of the beasts and birds that he has hunted, showing that he
followed the sport intelligently and not in the haphazard fashion of
many who go out merely to get a big bagful of game.

[Illustration: Edith Kermit Roosevelt]

Hunting was not all fun in those days. We have already related how
Theodore Roosevelt was caught in a heavy hailstorm. At another time he
and his companions were caught in a three-days' rain-storm, during which
the wind blew a hurricane. They were miles away from the ranch home, and
it was utterly impossible to move in any direction.

"Reckon we are booked to stay here," said one of the cowboys, a fellow
from the South. "It's a right smart storm, and it's going to stay by
us." And stay by them it did, until the party were almost out of
provisions. They got what shelter they could in something of a hollow
overhung with trees and brush, but this was not very satisfactory, and
all were soaked to the skin, and the blankets in which they rolled
themselves at night were both wet and muddy.

"Teddy Roosevelt didn't like that wetting, and I know it," one of the
cowboys has said since. "But he didn't grumble near as much as some of
the others. We had to take our medicine, and he took his like a man."

There were no elk in the immediate vicinity of Theodore Roosevelt's
ranches, nor were there many bears or buffaloes. But all of these
animals were to be met with further westward, and the young ranchman had
been after them during a previous year's hunting while on a trip to
Montana and Wyoming.

At that time the destination of the party was the Bighorn Mountains,
which were reached only after a painful and disheartening journey over a
very uncertain Indian trail, during which one of the ponies fell into a
washout and broke his neck, and a mule stuck fast in a mud-hole and was
extricated only after hours of hard work.

"It was on the second day of our journey into the mountains that I got
my first sight of elk," says Mr. Roosevelt. The party was on the trail
leading into a broad valley, moving slowly and cautiously along through
a patch of pine trees. When the bottom of the valley was gained, Mr.
Roosevelt saw a herd of cow elk at a great distance, and soon after
took a shot at one, but failed to reach his mark.

"I'm going after that herd," he said. And as soon as the party had
pitched camp, he sallied forth in one direction, while his foreman,
Merrifield, took another.

As Theodore Roosevelt had supposed, the elk had gone off in a bunch, and
for some distance it was easy to follow them. But further on the herd
had spread out, and he had to follow with more care, for fear of getting
on the wrong trail, for elk tracks ran in all directions over the
mountains. These tracks are there to-day, but the elk and the bears are
fast disappearing, for ruthless hunters have done their best to
exterminate the game.

After passing along for several miles, Theodore Roosevelt felt he must
be drawing close to the herd. Just then his rifle happened to tap on the
trunk of a tree, and instantly he heard the elk moving away in new
alarm. His hunting blood was now aroused, and he rushed forward with all
speed, but as silently as possible. By taking a short cut, the young
ranchman managed to come up beside the running elk. They were less than
twenty yards away, and had it not been for the many trees which were on
every side, he would have had an excellent shot at them. As it was he
brought low a fine, full-grown cow elk, and hit a bull calf in the hind
leg. Later on he took up the trail of the calf and finished that also.

Of this herd the foreman also brought down two, so that for the time
being the hunters had all the meat they needed. But Theodore Roosevelt
was anxious to obtain some elk horns as trophies of the chase, and day
after day a watch was kept for bull elk, as the hunters moved the camp
from one place to another.

At last the long-looked-for opportunity arrived. Three big bulls were
seen, and Roosevelt and his man went after them with all possible speed.
They were on foot, and the trail led them over some soft ground, and
then through a big patch of burnt timber. Here running was by no means
easy, and more than once both hunters pitched headlong into the dirt and
soot, until they were covered from head to foot. But Theodore Roosevelt
was bound to get the elk, and kept on until the sweat was pouring down
his face and neck. Shot after shot was fired, and all three of the
animals were wounded, but still they kept on bounding away.

"One is down!" shouted Roosevelt at last. And the news proved true; the
smallest of the bulls had rocked unsteadily for a few seconds and gone
to earth. Then on and on after the remaining game sped the hunters,
panting and sweating as before.

"The sweat streamed down in my eyes and made furrows in the sooty mud
that covered my face, from having fallen full length down on the burnt
earth," writes the dauntless hunter, in relating this story. "I sobbed
for breath as I toiled at a shambling trot after them, as nearly done
out as could well be."

But he did not give up; and now the elk took a turn and went downhill,
with Theodore Roosevelt pitching after them, ready to drop from
exhaustion, but full of that grit to win out which has since won the
admiration of all who know the man. The second bull fell; and now but
one remained, and this dashed into a thicket. On its heels went the
daring hunter, running the chance of having the elk turn on him as soon
as cornered, in which case, had Roosevelt's rifle been empty, the
struggle for life on both sides would have been a fierce one.

In the midst of the thicket the hunter had to pause, for the elk was now
out of sight, and there was no telling what new course had been taken by
the game. At a distance he saw a yellow body under the evergreen trees,
and, taking hasty aim, fired. When he came up, he was somewhat dismayed
to learn that he had not brought down the elk, but a black-tail deer
instead. In the meantime, the elk got away, and it proved impossible to
pick up the trail again.

There is a valuable lesson to be learned from this hunting trip, and one
that all young readers should take to heart. It shows what sticking at a
thing can accomplish. Mr. Roosevelt had determined to get at least a
portion of that game, no matter what the labor and hardship involved.
Many a hunter would have given up in disgust or despair after the first
few shots were fired and it looked as if the elk were out of range and
intended to keep out. But this determined young man did not give up
thus easily. Hard as was that run up hill and down, and regardless of
the tumbles taken, and that he was so tired he could scarcely stand, he
kept on until two elk were brought down, and it was firmly settled that
the third could not be captured.

The way to accomplish anything in this life is to _stick at it_.
Theodore Roosevelt understood this truth even when he went to college,
for in the Harvard journal of which he was an editor he wrote, speaking
of foot-ball practice, "What is most necessary is that every man should
realize the necessity of faithful and honest work, _every afternoon_."
He put "every afternoon" in italics himself, and he meant that every
foot-ball player who hoped to win in the inter-collegiate foot-ball
games should _stick at it_ until he had made himself as perfect a player
as possible. A victory worth gaining is worth working for, and usually
the hardest-earned victories are the sweetest.



It was while in the Bighorn Mountains that Theodore Roosevelt got his
first shot at a bear. He had been wanting such a chance for a good many
years, but up to that date the bears had kept well out of his sight.

In his writings he has said much about bears, both common and grizzly,
and told of their habits, and how they have been tracked down and shot
at various times of the year. He holds to the opinion that the average
bear would rather run away than fight, yet he tells the story of how one
bear faced the hunter who had shot him, and gave the man one blow with
his powerful paw that proved fatal.

One day his companion of the hunt came riding in with the carcass of a
black bear killed in a network of hollows and ravines some miles from
their present camp.

"The hollows are full of bear tracks," said Merrifield. "I am sure, if
we go up there, we'll get one or more black bears and perhaps a

"Then let us go by all means," responded Theodore Roosevelt. And no time
was lost in moving to the new locality.

The hunters had been out nearly all of the next day, when, on returning
through the forest toward nightfall, Roosevelt came across the footmarks
of a large bear. He tried to follow them, but night closed in on him,
and he had to return to camp. That very night the bear came around the
camp, looking for something to eat.

"Let us try to bring him down," cried Roosevelt, seizing his rifle,
while his companion did the same. But outside it was pitch dark.

"Do you see him?" questioned Merrifield.


"Neither do I."


Both listened, and at a distance heard the bear lumbering off slowly
through the woods. They went forward a short distance, then came to a

"We'll have to give it up for the present," said Theodore Roosevelt.
"But I am going to have him, sooner or later, if the thing is possible."

Early the next morning both of the hunters sallied forth and discovered
that the bear had been at the carcasses of some game left in the forest.
The tracks were fresh.

"He has been here, no doubt of it," said Merrifield. "Shall we wait for
him to come again?"

"We might as well," was the answer. "He'll get hungry again, sooner or

So the pair sat down to watch. But the bear was shy, and kept his
distance. Then it grew dark once more, so that but little could be seen
under the trees.

"He knows enough to keep away," said Roosevelt's companion.

"Hark!" was the reply and both strained their ears. There was a faint
crackling of twigs, and they felt certain it was the bear. But it was
too dark to see anything; so both shouldered their rifles and walked
back to camp.

Here was another illustration of Theodore Roosevelt's method of sticking
at a thing. Two days had been spent in trying to get that bear, and yet
he did not give up. On the following morning he sallied forth once more,
as full of hope as before.

The bear had been at the carcass again, and the trail was now one to be
followed with ease.

"I'm going to hunt him down to his lair," said Theodore Roosevelt, and
stalked off with his companion beside him. Soon they were again deep in
the woods, walking perhaps where the foot of white man had never before
trod. Fallen trees were everywhere, and over these they often had to

"Getting closer," whispered Roosevelt's companion, and pointed to some
fresh claw scratches on the bark of fallen trees.

They now moved forward as silently as Indians, sure that the bear could
not be far off. Suddenly Merrifield dropped on his knee as if to take
aim. Roosevelt sprang to the front, with rifle raised. The bear was
there, standing upright, only a few paces away. Without hesitation
Theodore Roosevelt fired. His aim was true, and the great beast fell
with a bullet straight between the eyes. The leaden messenger had
entered his brain, and he died with scarcely a struggle.

"The whole thing was over in twenty seconds from the time I caught sight
of the game," writes Mr. Roosevelt, in his book "Hunting Trips on the
Prairies" (Part II of "Hunting Trips of a Ranchman"). "Indeed it was
over so quickly that the grizzly did not have time to show fight at all
or come a step toward me. It was the first I had ever seen, and I felt
not a little proud as I stood over the great brindled bulk which lay
stretched out at length in the cool shade of the evergreens. He was a
monstrous fellow, much larger than any I have seen since, whether alive
or brought in dead by hunters. As near as we could estimate he must have
weighed about twelve hundred pounds."

There is a bear story for you, boys. And the best of it is, it is every
word true. In later years Theodore Roosevelt brought down many more
grizzlies, but I doubt if he was as proud of them as he was of that
first capture.

While Theodore Roosevelt was spending a large part of his time in
hunting and in literary work, and in studying political economy, Grover
Cleveland's first term as President came to an end, and Benjamin
Harrison was inaugurated to fill the office of Chief Magistrate.

At that time the question of Civil Service was again being agitated.
Theodore Roosevelt was a warm advocate of the merit system, and knowing
this, President Harrison appointed him, in 1889, a Civil Service
Commissioner, and this office he held for six years, until his
resignation in 1895. When Benjamin Harrison's term of office was up, and
Grover Cleveland was reëlected to the Presidency, it was thought that
Roosevelt would have to go, but his friend, the newly elected President,
wished him to remain as a commissioner, and he did so for two years
longer, thus serving both under a Republican and a Democratic

To some of my young readers the term Civil Service, as applied here, may
be a bit perplexing. For the benefit of such let me state that civil
service here applies to the thousands of persons who work for the
government, such as post-office clerks, letter carriers, clerks in the
various departments at Washington, like the Treasury, the Congressional
Library, the Government Printing Office, the War Department, and the
hundred and one other branches in which Uncle Sam needs assistance.

For seventy or eighty years these various positions had been under what
is commonly called the "spoils system." "To the victor belong the
spoils," had been the old motto, which generally meant that the party
happening to be in power could do as it pleased about dealing out
employment to those under it. A worker might have been ever so faithful
in the discharge of his duties, but if the administration was changed,
he ran the risk of losing his position without any notice.

Statesmen of both great political parties had long seen the injustice of
the spoils system, but few cared to take the matter up for fear of
offending their political friends. But as matters grew worse, those who
were honest said they would stand such a system no longer, and they
began to advocate the merit plan, whereby each worker for our
government should stand on his merit, so that he could not be removed
from his position without just cause. This merit system is in operation
to-day and is a most excellent thing, only becoming dangerous when
extended too far.

There were two other commissioners besides Mr. Roosevelt on the
Commission, but all worked together in harmony, although in many moves
taken Mr. Roosevelt was the leader. About this work he has written a
notable essay called "Six Years of Civil Service Reform," in which he
reviews much of the work done. In this essay, among many other things,
he says:--

"No republic can permanently endure when its politics are corrupt and
base; and the spoils system,--the application in political life of the
degrading doctrine that to the victor belong the spoils,--produces
corruption and degradation. The man who is in politics for the offices
might just as well be in politics for the money he can get for his vote,
so far as the general good is concerned." Certainly wise words and well
worth remembering.

The work of the Commission was by no means easy, and the members were
often accused of doing some things merely to benefit their own
particular party or friends. Politicians of the old sort, who wanted
everything they could lay hands on, fought civil service bitterly, and
even those who might have been expected to help often held back, fearing
they would lose their own popularity. Yet on the other hand, some
members of Congress upheld the Commission nobly, and when President
Garfield was assassinated by a half-crazy office-seeker many more came
forward and clamored to put public offices on the merit system by all

Part of the work of the Commission was to prosecute the head of any
bureau or department where an employee had been discharged or had
suffered without just cause. Such cases came up in large numbers and
were prosecuted with all the vigor of which the Commission were capable.

"We were not always successful in these trials," says Mr. Roosevelt.
"But we won out in the majority of cases, and we gave the wrong-doing
such a wide publicity that those who were guilty hesitated to repeat
their actions." And he goes on to add that during his term of service
not over one per cent. of those who worked for Uncle Sam were dismissed
purely for political reasons. This was certainly an excellent record,
and our government will do well to maintain such a high standard in the

To give a further idea of the work required in the way of examinations
for positions under our government, let me state that during the year
from July 1, 1890, to July 1, 1891, 5251 applicants were examined for
the departments service, 1579 for the customs service, 8538 for the
postal service, 3706 for the railway mail service, making a total of
nearly 20,000, of which about 13,000 passed and the balance failed.
Since our war with Spain, the work of the government has been vastly
increased, and the places to be filled every year run up into figures
that are startling.

One of the best and wisest acts of the Commission was to place the
colored employees of the government on an equal footing with the white
employees. In the past the colored employees had occupied their places
merely through the whim or goodwill of those over them. Now this was
changed, and any colored man who could pass the examination, and who was
willing to attend strictly to his labor, was as safe in his situation as



Notwithstanding the great amount of labor involved as a Civil Service
Commissioner, Theodore Roosevelt did not forego the pleasures of the
hunt, and in 1891 he made an extended trip to the Shoshone Mountains in
Wyoming, going after elk and such other game as might present itself.

On this trip he was accompanied by his ranch partner, a skilled shot
named Ferguson, and two old hunters named Woody and Hofer. There was
also in the party a young fellow who looked after the pack-horses,
fourteen in number.

The start was made on a beautiful day in September, and the party
journeyed along at a gait that pleased them, bringing down everything
that came to hand and which could be used as meat. Two tents were
carried, one for sheltering their packs at night and the other for
sleeping purposes.

In his book called "The Wilderness Hunter," Mr. Roosevelt has given many
of the details of this grand hunt, which he says was one of the most
exciting as well as most pleasurable undertaken. With an interest that
cannot be mistaken, and which betrays the true sportsman at every turn,
he gives minute descriptions of how the tents were erected, how
everything in camp was put in its proper place, and how on wet days they
would huddle around the camp-fire in the middle of the larger tent to
keep warm and dry. He also tells how the packs on the horses were
adjusted, and adds that the hunter who cannot take care of his outfit
while on the hunt, or who must have all his game stalked for him, is a
hunter in name only;--which is literally true, as every genuine
sportsman knows.

The young Civil Service Commissioner went out garbed in a fitting
hunting costume, consisting of a buckskin shirt, with stout leggings,
and moccasins, or, when occasion required, alligator-leather boots.
Heavy overcoats were also carried and plenty of blankets, and for extra
cold nights Theodore Roosevelt had a fur sleeping-bag, in which, no
doubt, he slept "as snug as a bug in a rug."

The horses of a pack-train in the wild West are not always thoroughly
broken, and although the majority rarely do anything worse than lag
behind or stray away, yet occasionally one or another will indulge in
antics far from desired. This was true on the present occasion, when at
different times the pack-beasts went on a "shindy" that upset all
calculations and scattered packs far and wide, causing a general alarm
and hard work on the part of all hands to restore quietness and order.

For two days the hunters pushed on into the mountains with but little
signs of game. Then a rain-storm set in which made the outlook a dismal

"Going to have a big storm," said one of the old hunters.

"Never mind, we'll have to take it as it comes," was Mr. Roosevelt's
philosophical answer. "We can't expect good weather every day."

It was almost noon of that day when all heard the call of a bull elk,
echoing over the hills. The sound came from no great distance, and in
the face of the rain, Theodore Roosevelt and the hunter named Woody set
off on foot after the beast, who was still calling as loudly as ever.

It was not long before the hunters could hear the bull plainly, as he
pawed the earth, a challenge to another bull who was answering him from
a great distance.

"We are gettin' closer to him," said Woody. "Got to go slow now, or
he'll take alarm and be off like a flash."

The timber was rather thin, and the ground was covered with moss and
fallen leaves, and over this the pair glided as silently as shadows,
until Woody declared that the bull was not over a hundred yards away.

"And he's in a tearing rage, on account of that other bull," he added.
"Got to plug him fair and square or there will be trouble."

Without replying to this, Theodore Roosevelt took the lead, keeping eyes
and ears wide open for anything that might come to hand. Then through
the trees he caught sight of the stately horns of the elk, as he stood
with head thrown back, repeating his call in trumpet-like tones.

As the hunters came closer, the elk faced around and caught sight of his
human enemies. Up went his antlers once more, as if to defy them.

"He's coming!" shouted Woody. And scarcely had he spoken when Theodore
Roosevelt took aim and fired at the animal. There was a snort and a
gasp, and the elk turned to run away. Then Roosevelt fired a second
shot, and over went the monarch of the forest in his death agony. It was
a fine bit of game to bring down, the antlers having twelve prongs. The
head was cut off and taken back to camp, along with a small part of the
best of the meat.

After that the forward march was resumed in the face of a sweeping rain
that wet everybody to the skin. On they went until, just as the rain
ceased, they reached a bold plateau, overlooking what is called
Two-Ocean Pass, a wild and wonderful freak of nature, surrounded by
lofty mountains and watered by streams and brooks flowing in several
directions. Far up the mountains could be seen the snow-drifts, while
lower down were the heavy forests and underbrush, the haunts of the game
they were seeking.

In this Wonderland Theodore Roosevelt hunted to his heart's content for
many days--bringing down several more elk and also a fair variety of
smaller game. It was now growing colder, and knowing that the winter
season was close at hand, the hunters decided to strike camp and return

The movement was made none too soon. The snow was already filling the
air, and one morning, on coming from his tent, Theodore Roosevelt found
the ground covered to a depth of a foot and a half. To add to his
discomfort the pony he was riding began to buck that day and managed to
dislocate his rider's thumb. But Theodore Roosevelt stuck to him and
showed him who was master; and after that matters went better. The snow
continued to come down, and before the end of the journey was reached,
at Great Geyser Basin, the hunters almost perished from the cold.

Such pictures as the above give us some idea of the varied life that
Theodore Roosevelt has led. Even at this early age--he was but
thirty-three years old--he had been a college student, a traveller, an
author, an assemblyman, a ranchman and hunter, and a Civil Service
Commissioner. He had travelled the length and breadth of Europe and
through a large section of our own country. He had visited the palaces
of kings and the shacks of the humble cowboys of the far West, he had
met men in high places and in low, and had seen them at their best and
at their worst. Surely if "experience is the school wherein man learns
wisdom," then the future President had ample means of growing wise, and
his works prove that those means were not neglected.

As already mentioned, when Grover Cleveland became President a second
time, he requested Theodore Roosevelt to retain his place on the Civil
Service Commission. This was a practical illustration of the workings of
the merit system, and it made for Mr. Cleveland many friends among his
former political enemies. By this movement the workings of the
Commission were greatly strengthened, so that by the time Theodore
Roosevelt resigned, on May 5, 1895, the Commission had added twenty
thousand places filled by government employees to those coming under the
merit system. This number was larger than any placed under the system
before that time, and the record has scarcely been equalled since.

"He was a fighter for the system, day and night," says one who knew him
at that time. "He was enthusiastic to the last degree, and had all sorts
of statistics at his fingers' ends. If anybody in the government employ
was doing wrong, he was willing to pitch into that person regardless of
consequences. Some few politicians thought he was a crank on the
subject, but the results speak for themselves. Some politicians, who
wanted the old spoils system retained, were often after him like a swarm
of angry hornets, but he never got out of their way, and when they tried
to sting, he slapped them in a way that soon made them leave him alone.
And more than that, he was very clever in the way that he presented his
case to those representatives and senators who understood the real
value of Civil Service reform. He made them appreciate what he and his
fellow-commissioners were trying to do, and when the Commission was
attacked in Congress it always had, as a consequence, a support that
could not be easily overthrown."

When Theodore Roosevelt resigned, President Cleveland wrote as follows
to him:--

"You are certainly to be congratulated upon the extent and permanency of
civil service reform methods which you have so substantially aided in
bringing about. The struggle for its firm establishment and recognition
is past. Its faithful application and reasonable expansion remain,
subjects of deep interest to all who really desire the best attainable
public service." It was high praise for the retiring commissioner, and
it was well deserved.



During the time that Theodore Roosevelt was a Civil Service Commissioner
there were several important political changes made in New York City.

In the past there had been a great deal of what is familiarly called
"machine politics," and matters had been going from bad to worse. But
now there was an upward turn by the election of William S. Strong to the
office of mayor. Mr. Strong was a man of high character, and was elected
by a vote that combined the best elements of all the political parties.

It was at a time when New York City was in urgent need of reform. Those
in power were doing but little to stop the corruption that was stalking
abroad upon every hand. Bribes were given and taken in nearly all
departments, clerks were being paid large salaries for doing practically
nothing, and contracts were put out, not to those who could do the best
work, but to those who would pay the political tricksters the most money
for them.

The record of the police department was perhaps the blackest of the lot.
It was to this department that the citizens looked for protection from
crime, yet it was known that many in the department winked at all sorts
of vice, providing they were properly paid for so doing. Saloons and
worse resorts were kept open in defiance of the law, and wickedness
flaunted itself in the face of the public in a manner that was truly
shocking. Occasionally a private citizen would try to do something to
mend matters, but his complaint was generally "pigeon-holed," and that
would be the end of the matter. The rottenness, as it was well called,
extended from the highest places in the department to the lowest, so
that it was said not even a policeman could secure his appointment
without paying several hundred dollars for it, and this he was, of
course, expected to get back by blackmailing those who lived or did
business on his beat. And get it back the policeman would, even if he
had to make an Italian fruit dealer pay him a dollar a month for having
a stand on the sidewalk, where the walk was supposed to be free from

When William Strong came into office, the first thing he did was to cast
his eyes about him for reliable men who might aid him in purifying the
city. He already knew of Theodore Roosevelt's work as an assemblyman and
a Civil Service Commissioner.

"Mr. Roosevelt is just the man to take the office of Police Commissioner
and put the department on an honorable basis," said the newly elected
mayor, and he lost no time in tendering the office to Mr. Roosevelt. The
tender was accepted, and Theodore Roosevelt was sworn into his new
position on May 24, 1895.

The appointment of Mr. Roosevelt to the office of Police Commissioner
was a great shock to nearly the entire police department. He was known
for his sterling honesty, and it was felt that he would not condone
crime in any shape or form.

"There will be a grand shaking up," said more than one. "Just you wait
till he gets to the bottom of things. He'll turn the light on in a way
that will make more than one officer tremble in his boots."

On the Board with Mr. Roosevelt were Andrew D. Parker, Avery D. Andrews,
and Frederick D. Grant, the latter the son of former President Grant.
Theodore Roosevelt was chosen president, and the Board lost no time in
getting to work.

"The new Board found the department in a demoralized condition," says
Mr. Roosevelt, in his report on the matter. "A recent grand jury had
investigated the records of many officers, and many indictments had been
found; 268 vacancies existed in the department, and 26 officers,
including one inspector and five captains, were under suspension on
account of indictment for crime." This was truly a sad state of affairs,
and a horrible example to the other large cities of our Union.

The Commissioners went to work with a will, and Theodore Roosevelt was
the leading spirit in every move made. Every branch of the police
department was given an overhauling, and those who would not do their
duty were promptly dismissed, while minor offences were met with heavy
fines. By an act of the legislature the force of men was increased to
eight hundred, to keep pace with the growth of the metropolis. The men
who were particularly faithful in the discharge of their duties were
rewarded by honorable mention, engrossed certificates, medals of honor,
and by promotions. More than this, they were given to understand that if
they did their duty faithfully they need not fear trouble from those
over them, no matter what changes were made. No officer was allowed to
accept blackmail money from those lower in the service; and above all,
no politics were to interfere with the fair and square running of the
whole department.

It was a gigantic task, and it cannot be said that it was totally
successful, for the opposition in some quarters was strong. More than
once Mr. Roosevelt was threatened with violence, but, as when an
assemblyman, he paid but scant attention to these mutterings.

His habits of personally investigating matters still clung to him, and
it is well remembered how he went around at odd hours of the day and
night, and on Sundays, seeing if the policemen were really doing their
duty. There had been a boast that all policemen were at their posts at
night. Mr. Roosevelt went out once and found just two out of an even
dozen where they should be. Then began that "shaking up" that has
resulted in better police service in New York to this day.

The effect of the new vigor in the police department was felt in many
other ways. There was a tenement-house law regarding buildings which
were unfit for human habitations. New York City was crowded with such
buildings, but nobody had ordered them torn down, because either nobody
wanted to bother, or the owners paid blackmail money to keep them
standing for the rent they could get out of them.

"Those tenements must come down," said Theodore Roosevelt.

"If you order them down, the owners will fight you to the bitter end,"
said another officer of the department.

"I don't care if they do. The houses are a menace to life and health.
They are filthy, and if a fire ever started in them, some would prove
regular traps. They have got to go." And shortly after that about a
hundred were seized, and the most destroyed.

The enforcement of the Sunday liquor law was another thing that
occasioned great surprise during Mr. Roosevelt's term as Police
Commissioner. In the past, saloons had been almost as wide open on
Sundays as on week days. On account of the cosmopolitan character of the
population it was thought that to close up the saloons on Sundays would
be impossible. But the police force was given strict orders, and on one
Sunday in June, 1895, New York City had the first "dry" Sunday that it
could remember in many years.

This "dry" Sunday provoked a new storm of opposition, especially from
many of foreign birth, who were used to getting liquor as easily on that
day as on any other. More threats were made against the vigorous
commissioner, and on two occasions dynamite bombs were placed in his
desk, evidently with the hope that they would explode and blow him to
pieces. But the bombs were found in time, and no damage was done, and
Theodore Roosevelt paid scant attention to them.

After that he was attacked in a new way. Some of the politicians laid
traps for him whereby they hoped to bring discredit to his management of
the department. The fight grew very hot and very bitter, and he was
accused of doing many things, "just for the looks of them," rather than
to benefit the public at large. But he kept on his way, and at last the
opposition were silenced to such an extent that they merely growled
behind his back.

For many years a large number of shiftless and often lawless men, and
women too, were attracted to the metropolis because of the "Tramps'
Lodging Houses" located there. These resorts were continually filled by
vagrants who would not work and who were a constant menace to society at

"We must get rid of those lodging houses," said Mr. Roosevelt. "They
simply breed crime. No respectable man or woman, no matter how poor,
will enter them."

"But we'll have to have some sort of shelter for the poor people," said

"To be sure--for those who are deserving. The others should be driven
off and discouraged," answered Mr. Roosevelt. And one by one the tramps'
lodging places were abolished. In their place the Board of Charities
opened a Municipal Lodging House, where those who were deserving were
received, were made to bathe, and given proper shelter and nourishment.

A story is told that, during the excitement attending the closing of
saloons on Sunday, a friend came to Mr. Roosevelt and told about hearing
some saloon-keepers plotting to harm him.

"What can they do?" demanded the Police Commissioner.

"I am afraid they can do a good deal," was the answer. "Each of those
men has a barkeeper who has been in jail for various crimes. They may
attack you some dark night and kill you."

"Perhaps I won't give them the chance," answered the man who had been on
many a dangerous hunt in the wild West. "If they can shoot, so can I."

"But they may sneak up behind you and knock you out," insisted the

"Well, if they do that, I shall have died doing my duty," was the calm
answer made by the future hero of the Rough Riders.



While Theodore Roosevelt was serving as Police Commissioner of the city
of New York, William McKinley ran for the Presidency of the United
States the first time and was elected.

The young commissioner was a firm upholder of McKinley, for he did not
believe in "free silver" as it was called, but in "sound money," which
meant that in the future, as in the past, all national indebtedness
should be made payable in gold, instead of in gold and silver, as many

As soon as the new President was inaugurated, March 4, 1897, he
appointed Hon. John D. Long to be Secretary of the Navy. Mr. Long knew
Theodore Roosevelt well, and also knew of the "History of the Naval War
of 1812," which the energetic author and commissioner had written.

"He is just the man we need here," said Mr. Long to President McKinley.
"He has made a study of the navy, and he is not afraid of work," and
without further delay Theodore Roosevelt was asked to resign his
position in the metropolis and come to Washington, where he was duly
installed as First Assistant Secretary of the Navy.

In his new position, certainly a high one for such a young man to
occupy, Mr. Roosevelt had much to do. As first assistant, nearly the
whole responsibility of the real workings of the department fell upon
his shoulders. He took up these responsibilities manfully, and how well
he succeeded in the work, history has abundantly proved.

"It was Roosevelt's work that made Dewey's victory at Manila possible,"
one who knew of the inner workings of the department has said, and
another has said that the victory off Santiago Bay was also due in part
to Roosevelt's watchfulness over the ships that took part in that

At Washington the Assistant Secretary found an era of extravagance equal
to that which he had discovered in New York. The Navy Department was
paying dearly for almost everything it bought, and many laborers and
others were drawing high wages for doing little or no work. Against this
Theodore Roosevelt set his face uncompromisingly, so that inside of a
year the actual saving to our government was twenty-five per cent. When
it is remembered that the Navy Department spends each year millions of
dollars, something of what such a saving means can be realized.

For many years our country had been at peace with the whole world, but
now a war cloud showed itself on the horizon, scarcely visible at first,
but gradually growing larger and larger. Those at Washington watched it
with great anxiety, wondering if it would burst, and what would be the

Cuba had been fighting for liberty for years. It was under Spanish rule,
and the people were frightfully oppressed. To Spain they paid vast sums
of money and got but little in return. Money that should have gone into
improvements--that should have supplied good roads and schools--went
into the pockets of the royalty of Spain. When a Cuban tried to
remonstrate, he could scarcely get a hearing, and this state of affairs
went from bad to worse until, in sheer desperation, the Cubans declared
war on the mother-country, just as in 1776 our own nation threw off the
yoke of England.

As my young readers know, Cuba lies only a short distance from the
southeast coast of Florida. Being so close, it was but natural that our
people should take an interest in the struggle at hand. Everybody
sympathized with the Cubans, and some made offers of assistance. Then,
when many Cubans were on the verge of starvation, we voted to send them
relief in the way of something to eat.

The action of the United States was viewed with suspicion by Spain. The
people of that country were certain we wanted to help Cuba only in order
to "gobble her up afterward," as the saying went. Such was not our
intention at all, and total Cuban liberty to-day testifies to that fact.

Not knowing how far matters might go, President McKinley and his
advisers deemed it wise to prepare for the worst. This meant to put the
army and navy on the best possible footing in the least possible time.

It was felt that should war come, it would be fought largely on the sea,
and nobody realized this more than did Theodore Roosevelt. He was active
day and night in the pursuit of his duty, seeing to it that this ship or
that was properly manned, and this fortification and that put in proper
order to resist attack. Our ships were in all parts of the world, on the
Atlantic and the Pacific, in the far north and the far south, in
European waters and Hong Kong Harbor. Each had to be supplied with coal
and ammunition and with provisions. Those that were "out of commission,"
that is, laid up, generally for repairs, were put into commission with
all speed. A thousand contracts had to be inspected, judged, and passed
upon. Outwardly the Navy Department at Washington was moving along as
peacefully as ever, internally it was more active than it had been at
any time since the great Civil War.

"War may come at any moment," said Mr. Roosevelt to his friends. "And if
it does come, there is nothing like being prepared for it."

About one thing Theodore Roosevelt was very particular. In the past,
gun practice on board of our war-ships had been largely a matter of
simply going through the motions of handling the guns.

"This will not do," said the Assistant Secretary. "Our gunners will
never make good marksmen in that way. They must practise with powder and
ball, shot and shell." And after that they did. Such practice cost a
round sum of money, and the department was criticised for its
wastefulness in this direction; but the worth of it was afterward proven
when Commodore Dewey sank the Spanish ships in Manila Bay, and the
Atlantic Squadron likewise destroyed the enemy's ships that were trying
to escape from Santiago Harbor.

In those days at Washington, Theodore Roosevelt made a warm, personal
friend of Dr. Leonard Wood. Dr. Wood was an army surgeon, who had seen
considerable active service while under General Miles in the campaigns
against the Apache Indians. Mr. Roosevelt has himself told how he and
Dr. Wood would often, after office hours, take long walks out of the
city, or play foot-ball, or go snow-skating when the weather permitted,
and during such pastimes their conversation was invariably about the
situation in Cuba, and what each intended to do should war break out.

"If war actually comes, I intend, by hook or by crook, to get out into
the field," said Dr. Wood.

"I shall go with you," answered Theodore Roosevelt. "No more office work
for me if there is any fighting to be done."

In the meantime, as already mentioned, matters in Cuba were rapidly
approaching a crisis. Spain could not send a large enough army to the
island to conquer the people while they were at liberty to roam through
the jungles and mountains, and so began to drive men, women, and
children into various cities or camps, where they were kept, under
penalty of death if they tried to escape. Thus large numbers were torn
from their homes, and sent miles and miles away, with no money, and
nothing with which to support themselves. Food became scarce and high in
price, and many grown folks and children were literally starved to

To help these starving people the Congress of our country voted to
expend fifty thousand dollars from the national treasury. This excited
Spain more than ever, and we were accused of trying to prolong the
rebellion. But the deed was done, and many would have had us go farther,
and recognize Cuba as a free and independent nation. This desire was
overruled on the ground that our government could not with propriety
endanger the peace of the world by taking so serious a step at that
time. But the strength of popular sympathy with an oppressed people was
shown by the fact that many Americans at grave personal risk went to
Cuba, and joined the army in one capacity or another, fighting as
bravely as if for their own individual rights.



"The _Maine_ has been blown up!"

Such was the awful news which startled this whole nation in the middle
of February, 1898, and which caused the question of war with Spain to
crystallize without further deliberation.

The _Maine_ was a battleship of large size, that had been sent down to
the harbor of Havana, Cuba, on nothing more than a friendly visit. The
explosion that destroyed this noble vessel occurred about ten o'clock at
night, and was heard for miles around. Soon after the explosion, the
war-ship began to sink, and over two hundred and fifty sailors and
officers lost their lives.

The entire nation was now aroused, and many wanted to go to war with
Spain immediately. But the Spaniards professed to be ignorant of the
cause of the explosion, and said it must have come from the _inside_ of
the ship and not the _outside_. Without delay a Board of Inquiry was
established, and it was settled that the explosion had come from the
outside, probably from a mine set by the Spaniards in Havana Harbor.

"This means war, and nothing but war," said even the wisest of our
statesmen. And so it proved. Without hesitation the whole nation sprang
forward to uphold the administration, and in a few days Congress passed
an appropriation of fifty millions of dollars "for national defence." It
may be added that this appropriation was passed unanimously, regardless
of party politics and regardless of the differences which, in the past,
had existed between the North and the South.

We have already learned what had been done to prepare the navy for the
conflicts to follow. Now there was even more work on hand, to get the
army into shape for service in Cuba and on other foreign soil.

The regular army at that time consisted of about twenty-five thousand
men, scattered all over the United States,--on the frontier, at the
Indian reservations, and along the sea-coasts. Many of these troops were
hurried to camps in the southeast portion of our country, leaving but
small garrisons in the far West.

It was realized by President McKinley that our regular army could not
cope with the troubles at hand, and soon came a call for one hundred and
twenty-five thousand volunteers. These volunteers were to come from the
various States and Territories, each furnishing its proportion of
soldiers according to its population. These soldiers were quickly
collected and marched to the various state camps, there to be sworn into
the service of the United States.

The "war fever" was everywhere, and many private parties began to raise
companies, while all sorts of independent commands, Grand Army,
Confederate Veterans, Italian-American Guards, German Singing Societies,
Colored Guards, and the like, offered their assistance. Even the
colleges caught the fever, and men went forth from Yale, Harvard,
Princeton, and other institutions of learning to battle for Uncle Sam.

The first blow struck at Spain was a most effective one. Commodore,
afterwards Admiral, Dewey was at Hong Kong when the trouble began, and
he was directed by the War Department to hunt for a Spanish fleet
somewhere among the Philippine Islands and engage it. On Sunday, May 1,
came the news that the gallant commodore had reached Manila Bay, fought
the Spanish fleet and sunk every hostile ship, and come out of the
battle with all of his own ships safe and not a single man killed!

"Hurrah! that shows what our navy can do!" cried many citizens. And they
were justly proud. In the past, foreign nations had looked with
something akin to scorn on our vessels and the way they were manned. Now
such criticism was silenced; and this result was, in a certain measure,
due to the work of Theodore Roosevelt, while First Assistant Secretary
to Secretary Long.

But Theodore Roosevelt was no longer in the department. He resigned and
closed his desk, saying, "My duty here is done; my place is in the
field." With such an active nature, it was impossible for him to remain
a private citizen while stern war was a reality.

In his own excellent work, "The Rough Riders," and in his sworn
testimony before the Commission of Investigation of the Spanish War, Mr.
Roosevelt has given us graphic pictures of how the First United States
Volunteer Cavalry, commonly called the Rough Riders, happened to be
organized, and what it tried to do and did, and this testimony is
supplemented by many who know the facts, and who took part in the
battles which made the organization famous throughout the length and
breadth of our land.

At first Theodore Roosevelt thought to attach himself to the militia of
New York, but found every place taken.

"Let us try one of my Massachusetts regiments," said Dr. Wood. And this
was also done, with a like result.

"We could fill every place, did we want five times as many men," said
one colonel. "Everybody seems crazy to go." This shows how truly
patriotic our nation can become when the occasion arises for going to
the front.

While Theodore Roosevelt and his intimate friend were wondering what to
do next, Congress authorized the raising of three cavalry regiments, to
be composed of the daring riflemen and riders of New Mexico, Oklahoma,
Arizona, and Indian Territory.

"There, that will just suit me," said Theodore Roosevelt. "I know many
of those men, and I know we can raise a regiment in no time."

And without delay he sought out Secretary of War Alger and told him of
his hopes.

"I am perfectly willing to give you command of one of those regiments,"
said the war secretary. "I know you are something of a rough rider
yourself, and a good marksman to boot."

This was certainly flattering, but Theodore Roosevelt's head was not
turned by the offer.

"I don't think I am quite ready to take command," said he. "I know that
I can learn, and that quickly, but it will be precious time wasted."

"Well, what do you wish, Mr. Roosevelt?" asked the Secretary of War,

"What I should like best of all is for Dr. Wood to become colonel of the
regiment, and for myself to become lieutenant-colonel."

"Very well; I will consult President McKinley on the subject," said the
secretary. The request was granted, and in a few days more Colonel Wood
and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt sallied forth to organize the Rough
Riders, and fit them for service in Cuba.

Leaving his family, which now consisted of his wife and six children,
the lieutenant-colonel made his way to San Antonio, Texas, where the
regiment was to gather. Previous to going he spent a full week in
Washington, seeing to it that arrangements were completed for supplying
the command with uniforms, carbines, saddles, and other articles which
were needed. This was in itself quite a task, for all of the departments
at the Capitol were more than busy, and it took a great amount of
"hustling" to get what one wanted.

As soon as it was known that Theodore Roosevelt was going to help
organize the Rough Riders, offers from everywhere began to pour in upon
him. Not alone did the men of the plains and ranch who knew him want
to go, but likewise his old college chums at Harvard. These men, of
wealth and good families, were willing to serve in any capacity, if only
they could be mustered in. There were crack base-ball and foot-ball
players, yachtsmen, all-round athletes and men of fortune, all mixed in
with hunters, cowboys, men who had served as sheriffs in the far West,
where fighting was an everyday occurrence, some policemen who had served
under Roosevelt when he was a Police Commissioner in New York, and even
some Indians. Nearly every nationality was represented when it came to
blood, and the men ran from the best educated to the most ignorant.

[Illustration: Theodore Roosevelt as a Rough Rider (_Photograph by Pach
Bros., N.Y._)]

But there were three tests which every man, private or officer, had to
pass. He had to be in perfect health, he had to know how to ride, and he
had to know how to shoot. To these conditions were afterward added two
more: each man had to learn his duty as quickly as he could and had to
learn to obey his superiors.

In such a collection of soldiers it was but natural that the real
leaders soon asserted themselves. Several of the captains had served in
the United States army before; two were former famous western sheriffs;
and all were full of that pluck and energy which is bound to command

In this regiment were some men who had hunted with Theodore Roosevelt on
more than one occasion. They knew him well and loved him, and did their
best to serve him. To them he was really their commander, although they
officially recognized Colonel Wood. They were preëminently "Roosevelt's
Rough Riders," and the great majority of the people of our nation call
them such to this day.

The majority of the command were rather young in years, although a few
were of middle age. But all were tough and hardy, either from athletic
training or from years spent in the open air of the great West. Some of
them could ride almost any kind of a horse, and "bronco busting," that
is, breaking in a wild steed, was common sport among them. Some had
spent nearly their entire lives in the saddle, and some could exhibit
remarkable skill with their firearms while riding at full speed.

When the men began to come into San Antonio, they found but little in
the way of accommodations. But soon tents and blankets were procured. It
is said that good shoes were scarce, but some of the soldiers did not
mind going without them. The regiment was supplied with good rifles, but
the cartridges were not made of smokeless powder, which was a bad thing,
for smoke sometimes enables an enemy to locate the shooter, when, if
smokeless powder were used, nothing could be seen. Each man had also a
six shooter, and was to have had a machete, but the long knives did not

"On to Cuba!" was the cry. And it was taken up every day. The Rough
Riders were eager for the fray. Alas! little did many of them realize
that, once in the "bloody isle," they would never see their native land



That the path of the soldier is not always one full of glory can easily
be proven by what happened to the Rough Riders when, late in May, they
were ordered to Tampa, Florida, where a part of the army was gathering
in readiness to be transported to Cuba.

"We were just wild to go," says one of the number, in speaking of that
time. "We were tired of staying at San Antonio and drilling day in and
day out, rain or shine. I guess everybody felt like hurrahing when we
piled on to the cars.

"Colonel Roosevelt--he was only Lieutenant-Colonel then--had six troops
under him, and he did all he could to make the boys comfortable. But the
cars were crowded, and travelling was so slow it took us four days to
reach Tampa. Then when we got there, we found everything in confusion.
The railroad yard was chock-a-block with freight and passenger cars, and
nobody was there to tell us where to go or where to find provisions.

"The boys were hungry and tired out, for sleeping on the railroad had
been almost out of the question. There wasn't a sign of rations in
sight, and it looked as if we would have to stay hungry. But Teddy
Roosevelt just put his hand into his own pocket and bought us about all
we wanted. Then he scurried around and found out where we were to go,
and in another twenty-four hours we were settled in camp." Even in camp
the Rough Riders had to put up with continued discomfort. The weather
was warm, flies and mosquitoes were numerous, and the drinking water was
not of the best. The rations were plain, but the Rough Riders did not
mind this, for many of them had often fared worse on the plains.

Although it was now a regular military camp that the Rough Riders were
in, it was rather difficult to control some of the men, especially
those who had been used to an unusually rough life. But they were held
in check as much as possible by their commanders, and on Sunday all
attended a church service held by Chaplain Brown, who spoke to them in a
manner that soon claimed their attention.

After but a few days spent in the camp at Tampa, within walking distance
of many of the fashionable hotels, the command was ordered to Port
Tampa, there to board a transport to sail for some destination not
revealed. But the soldiers knew they were going to Cuba, to fight the
Spaniards and to aid in freeing Cuba, and again there was a loud

But immediately on top of this came one of the hardest blows the Rough
Riders had to endure, and one which some of them will probably never

As already stated, volunteers from all over our nation were anxious to
get into the fight, and it was no easy matter for the authorities at
Washington to decide who should go and who should be left behind.

"Only eight troops of seventy men each of the Rough Riders will embark
on the transport," was the order sent to Colonel Wood. More than this,
it was ordered that the command should be on board of the transport by
the following morning, otherwise it could not go.

"Four troops to be left behind!" exclaimed Theodore Roosevelt.

"Too bad," returned Colonel Wood. "Every man expects to go, and wants to

It was a hard task to tell some of the men that they could not go. Mr.
Roosevelt tells us that many of them actually cried at the news. They
were willing to go under any conditions. They did not want any pay, they
did not want any pensions if they were disabled, and some, who had
money, even offered to pay their way, just for the privilege of fighting
for Uncle Sam. After such an exhibition, let nobody dare to say that
true patriotism is dying out in this country.

But orders were orders, and as quickly as possible those to go were
selected. Then the command marched to the railroad tracks to await the
cars. None came, and they were given orders to march to another track.
This they also did; but still no train appeared.

"We'll be left, that is certain," said Colonel Wood, anxiously.

"It certainly looks like it, unless we march the boys down to the port."

"Here comes a train!" was the cry.

It was a train, but only of empty coal cars. It was about to pass by
when the Rough Riders halted it.

"What's the matter with riding down to the port in the coal cars?" was
the question asked by several.

"Good enough!" came the answer. "Into the cars, boys, and don't waste
time!" And into the dirty coal cars they piled, and persuaded the
engineer of the train to take them down to Port Tampa as quickly as he

If there had been bustle and confusion up at Tampa, it was far worse at
the port. Everybody was in a hurry, and ten thousand soldiers stood
around, not knowing what to do with their baggage, and not knowing which
of the many transports to board.

At last the Rough Riders were told to go aboard the _Yucatan_, and
started to do so.

"The _Yucatan_?" exclaimed a member of another command. "That is our

"No, she has been allotted to us," put in an officer belonging to still
another command.

"How many men will she hold?" questioned a captain of the Rough Riders.

"About a thousand."

"Then she can't take the three commands."

Theodore Roosevelt overheard this talk, and at once made up his mind
that it would be a question of what command got aboard of the transport
first. Without the loss of a moment he ran back to where his men were in

"Double-quick to the dock!" was his order. And forming quickly, the
troops made their way to the wharf with all possible speed. In the
meantime, Colonel Wood had gone out to the transport in a steam-launch
and gotten the vessel to come up to the wharf. On board went the Rough
Riders pell-mell, and not a minute too soon.

"This is our boat!" cried an officer, as he came up with his command a
minute later.

"Sorry for you, sir, but it is our boat," was Colonel Wood's firm

Then the third command loomed up, and a three-handed dispute arose. But
the Rough Riders remained aboard of the transport, taking four companies
of another command in with them.

I have told of the particulars of this affair to show my young readers
what was needed at this time, and how well Theodore Roosevelt performed
his duties. He had been a soldier and officer only a few weeks, yet he
realized that army life on paper and army life in reality were two
different things. He felt that an officer must do much besides leading
his men in the field: that he must look after them constantly, see that
their health was provided for, see that they got their rations, see that
transportation was ready when needed, and even see to it that some were
kept away from the temptations of drink, and that they did not quarrel
among themselves.

When going on board of the transport, the Rough Riders were supplied
with twelve days' rations each. The most of the food was good, but the
canned beef was very bad, just as it was found to be very bad in many
other quarters, and it made a great number sick. Added to this, somebody
had forgotten to issue salt to the soldiers; so much had to be eaten
without this very necessary seasoning.

"But we took matters good-naturedly," said one of the number, in
speaking of the trip that followed. "Many of the boys were out for a
lark, and when they growled, they did it good-naturedly. We had all
sorts of men, and all sorts of nicknames. An Irishman was called Solomon
Levi, and a nice young Jew Old Pork Chop. One fellow who was
particularly slow was called Speedy William, and another who always
spoke in a quick, jerky voice answered to the hail of 'Slow-up Peter.'
One cowboy who was as rough as anybody in the command was christened The
Parson, and a fine, high-toned, well-educated college boy had to answer
to the name of Jimmy the Tramp. Some of the boys could sing, and they
organized the Rough Rider Quartette; and others could play, and they
gave us music on the mouth harmonicas and other instruments they had
managed to smuggle along."

The War Department had expected to send the troops to Cuba without
delay, but now came in a report that some Spanish war-ships were
hovering around, ready to sink the transports as soon as they should
show themselves, and for five days the vessels remained in Port Tampa
Harbor, until it was ascertained that the report was untrue.

Those five days were important to Theodore Roosevelt and to the men
under him. Every day the young officer spent a certain portion of his
time in studying military tactics and in drilling his soldiers. Much had
still to be learned, and the officers had their school of instructions
as well as did those under them.

The weather was broiling hot, and some were already suffering from fever
or its symptoms. Fortunately bathing was good, and many went in once or
twice a day. Bathing in the ocean was great sport to some of the
plainsmen who had never seen anything larger than a river or creek, and
they frolicked around like children, and got up races, with prizes for
the best swimmers.

At last came the orders for the transports to set sail for Cuba. They
numbered thirty-two in all, including a schooner which was towed along
filled with drinking water, for water must be had, and that was the only
place where it could be stowed. To protect the transports from a
possible attack by the enemy, they were accompanied by five war-ships at
first, and later on by fourteen. All told, there were on the transports
eight hundred officers and sixteen thousand enlisted men. Of the
commands, the most were from the regular army, the volunteers numbering
but three--the Rough Riders, the Seventy-first New York Infantry, and
the Second Massachusetts Infantry.



While the army was preparing to invade Cuba, matters so far as they
concerned the navy had been moving along rapidly. Commodore Dewey had
sunk the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay; Havana and the adjacent coasts
were being blockaded, so no ships could pass in or out without running
the risk of capture; and a large fleet of war-ships under Admiral
Cervera, of the enemy's navy, had been "bottled up" in Santiago Harbor.

It had been decided that the United States troops should be landed on
the southeast coast of Cuba, not far from the entrance to Santiago Bay,
and from that point should make an advance on Santiago, which is the
second city of importance in the island.

Day after day the flotilla of transports kept on its way, spread out in
a broad column during the time it was light, and coming in close
together during the night. The war-ships hovered near, and at night
swept the ocean with their powerful search-lights, rendering a surprise
by the enemy impossible.

The trip to the southeast coast of Cuba lasted seven days. It was very
hot, even for this time of the year, and those who could, slept on deck
during the voyage. There was but little to do, and when not drilling,
the men took it easy in the shade,--sleeping, chatting, or playing
games. Sometimes they would talk of the future and wonder how much of
real fighting lay before them.

"We didn't know even then where we were going," said one, in speaking of
the trip. "I don't believe Wood or Roosevelt knew either. First we
thought it might be Havana, then we imagined it might be Porto Rico, but
when we turned southward and ran around the eastern end of the island,
we all knew we were bound for Santiago."

As the transports swept up toward the mouth of Santiago Bay, they came
within sight of the American war-ships that were keeping Admiral
Cervera's fleet "bottled up" in the harbor. A shout of recognition went
up, and one of the bands struck up a patriotic air that was truly

The landing of the Rough Riders and many other commands was made at
Daiquiri, a small settlement on the coast east of Santiago Harbor. The
_Yucatan_ got closer to the shore than most of the other transports, and
the men lost no time in disembarking, taking with them two Colt's
automatic guns and a dynamite gun of which they had become possessed. As
there had not been transports enough, only the officers' horses had been
brought along. These were thrown into the water and made to swim ashore.
Theodore Roosevelt had two horses, but one was drowned.

It was important that the landing should be guarded, and the war-ships
sent in some shot and shell to dislodge any Spaniards who might be in
the vicinity. But none showed themselves, and soon nearly all of the
soldiers were ashore, either at Daiquiri or at a landing a short
distance farther westward. No enemy was in sight, and the only persons
who appeared were some Cubans, soldiers and civilians, who wanted but
one thing, food.

The Rough Riders had been put into a brigade commanded by General S.B.M.
Young. There were two of these brigades, and it is worth noting that
they formed a division under the command of Major-General Joseph
Wheeler, who had in years gone by fought so gallantly on the side of the
Confederacy. Now, as brave as of old, he was fighting for Old Glory, the
one banner of the North and the South alike.

As the Rough Riders landed, they were marched up the beach, and here
they went into temporary camp,--an easy matter, since each soldier
carried his outfit with him, or, at least, as much as he could get of
what belonged to him. Theodore Roosevelt had his weapons and ammunition,
a mackintosh and a toothbrush, certainly much less than he had carried
even when roughing it in the Bad Lands of the West.

As soon as the larger portion of the army was landed, General Lawton--he
who was afterward to give his life for his flag in the Philippines--threw
out a strong detachment on the Santiago road to the westward, and also
detachments on the roads to the north and east.

"On to Santiago!" was the cry. And many were for pushing forward without
delay. But the transports had still to unload their baggage, and word
did not reach the Rough Riders to move on until the afternoon of the day
after landing.

It was a rocky, uneven country, with much brushwood and jungles of trees
and vines. It had rained, but now the sun came out fiercely, and the
Rough Riders (riders in name only, for only the officers were on
horseback) suffered greatly through being clad in winter uniform.

"It was a tough and tiresome march," said one who was there. "The air
just quivered with heat, and many of the boys felt like throwing half of
their clothing away. Whenever we reached a drinking place, the crowd
would swarm around for water like a lot of bees.

"General Lawton had his outposts pretty well advanced. Our commander,
old General Wheeler, was just as anxious to make a showing, and he
ordered General Young to push on with the Rough Riders and some other
troops. So away we went, with Colonel Wood at our head, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt in command of one squadron and Major Brodie
in command of the other. In some spots the road was frightful, full of
mud-holes, with big land crabs crawling around in all directions, and
with the trailing vines full of poisonous spiders. We didn't know but
that the woods might be full of Spaniards, and we were on the alert to
give the Dons as good as they sent, should they show themselves."

By nightfall the Rough Riders reached the little village of Siboney
without having met the enemy. Here they went into camp in the midst of a
heavy thunder-storm in which every soldier and officer was drenched to
the skin. Fires could scarcely be lighted, and it was not until the
storm had partly cleared away that the cooks could prepare anything to
eat. Surely being a soldier was not all glory after all.

It had been learned that a portion of the Spanish army was less than
four miles away, and General Young was ordered by General Wheeler to
move forward at daybreak and engage the enemy. Colonel Wood received
orders to move the Rough Riders by a trail over a hill, beyond which the
country sloped toward the bay and the city of Santiago.

The first encounter with the enemy occurred at a place called La Guasima
(or Las Guasimas), so called on account of trees of that name growing in
the vicinity. Here the Spaniards had rifle-pits and mounds of earth to
shelter them and had likewise the sugar-house of a plantation. They had
been watching for the coming of the _Americanos_ eagerly, and were
determined to give our soldiers a lesson not to be forgotten. They knew
that our army had not been in active warfare for years, and felt certain
that they would soon be able to make the "paper" soldiers retreat.

The Rough Riders found the way led up a steep hill, and the pace was so
fast that before the firing line was reached some men fell out from
exhaustion. Theodore Roosevelt was at the head of the first squadron and
did his best to urge those under him forward. There was an advance
guard, led by some men under Sergeant Hamilton Fish, and Captain
Capron's troop, and soon a crash of firearms notified all that a fight
was on.

Orders were at once issued to fill the magazines of the guns, and this
was done. Then, while some troops moved to the left of the trail,
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt was ordered to take three troops to the
right. Here the jungle was heavy, and no sooner had the Rough Riders
advanced than the Spaniards opened fire upon them. In speaking of the
opening of this fight, Mr. Roosevelt himself writes:--

"The effect of the smokeless powder (used by the enemy) was remarkable.
The air seemed full of the rustling sound of the Mauser bullets, for the
Spaniards knew the trails by which we were advancing, and opened heavily
on our position. But they themselves were entirely invisible. The jungle
covered everything, and not the faintest trace of smoke was to be seen
in any direction, to indicate from whence the bullets came."

It was certainly a trying time--to stand up and be shot at without being
able to return the compliment. Roosevelt and all the other leaders knew
that this would not do, and at a great risk they continued to advance,
until some Spaniards were at last discovered across a valley to the
right of where the troops under Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt were

"There they are!" was the cry. "Forward and at 'em, boys! Down with the
Dons!" Without delay some sharpshooters fired on the Spaniards, and then
the regular troops opened up, and at last the Spaniards ran from cover.

Bullets were now flying in all directions, and both sides were making
their shots tell. The Americans had but scant protection, and it was not
long before a number of them fell. Some bullets came close to Theodore
Roosevelt, and one hit a palm tree near where he was standing, filling
his left eye and ear with the dust and splinters. Had that Mauser bullet
come a few inches closer, the man who was destined to become the future
President of our country might have been killed on the spot.

In the midst of the skirmish--for the conflict proved to be nothing
more--there was a report that Colonel Wood was dead, and Theodore
Roosevelt took it upon himself to restore the fighting line of Rough
Riders to order. But happily the report proved false; and a little while
after this the skirmish came to an end, and both Spaniards and Americans
betook themselves to positions of greater safety. In this skirmish,
brief as it was, the Rough Riders lost eight men killed and nearly forty



Taken as a whole, the skirmish at La Guasima was quite an important one,
for it showed the Spaniards that our soldiers were bound to advance upon
Santiago, be the cost what it might.

More than this, it showed that Theodore Roosevelt was brave under fire.
During the skirmish he paid but scant attention to his own personal
safety. He went wherever he thought he was needed, and the fact that
Mauser bullets were flying about in all directions did not daunt him.

"He was about as cool a man as I ever saw in a fight," said one old
soldier. "He did all he could to encourage the men, and had a kind word
for every man he ran across who was wounded. Once, in the thickest of
the brush, he grabbed up a gun and began to shoot with us, and I reckon
he fired as straight as anybody there, for he had had lots of practice
while hunting."

The Spaniards had been driven from their pits and from the sugar-house
of the plantation, and now took good care to keep out of sight.
Picket-guards were thrown out by the officers of the army, and those who
had been in the fight took a much-needed rest, and looked after the dead
and wounded. There was certainly a touching scene at the temporary
hospital, where one soldier started to sing "My Country, 'tis of Thee,"
and many others joined in. On the following morning the dead were
buried, the men gathering around the one common grave to sing "Rock of
Ages" in a manner that brought tears to the eyes of many.

From La Guasima the Rough Riders moved to the bank of a small stream in
the neighborhood. Part of the army was ahead of them and the rest
behind, and for several days nothing unusual occurred. But during that
time General Young caught the fever, whereupon Colonel Wood had to take
charge of the brigade, and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt took command of
the Rough Riders.

It was now the end of June, and the weather was anything but agreeable.
When the rain did not come down in torrents, the sun shone with a glare
and a heat that was terrific. As said before, the uniforms of the Rough
Riders were heavy, and much clothing had to be cast aside as unfit for
use. To add to the discomfort, rations that were promised failed to
appear, so that a good square meal was almost unknown.

"This will not do; the men must have enough to eat, even if I have to
buy it for them," said Acting Colonel Roosevelt, and made two trips down
to the seacoast in search of beans, tomatoes, and other things to eat.
Here he was informed that he could only buy stuff meant for the

"All right; I'll buy the things for the officers," he answered, and
purchased as much as they would allow. When he got back, he turned the
food over to the officers, but saw to it that they gave their men a fair

"It was a kindness none of his men ever forgot," said a soldier who was
there. "It wasn't any of his business to buy the grub,--the commissary
department had to supply it free,--but he knew we might starve while
the department was getting itself straightened out and ready to do the
right thing. Before he went on a hunt for food, all we had was salt
pork, hardtack, and coffee, and some of the stuff wasn't fit to put in
your mouth." And this testimony was the testimony of scores of others.

The Spaniards were strongly intrenched upon the outskirts of Santiago,
and as it was a rough, hilly country, with many shallow streams and much
jungle, it was hard for the American army to advance. It was General
Shafter's idea to form a grand semicircle around Santiago, starting from
El Caney on the north, and running in an irregular line to Aguadores on
the south. Throughout this territory the Spaniards had done everything
possible to hinder the advance of our troops. Barbed wire was strung in
many directions, and often the brushwood would conceal dangerous
pitfalls, so that any advance had to be made with great caution.

The attack upon the Spanish lines began on July 1, and the fighting took
place in several quarters at once, but was unusually heavy at El Caney
and at San Juan Hill. At El Caney the heroic General Lawton was in
command, and fought as gallantly as he afterward did in the Philippines.
Some of the charges were terrific, and will ever be remembered by those
who participated in them.

The Rough Riders struck camp and moved along the trail on the last day
of June. It was as hot as ever, with no sign of rain. The trail was
filled with troops and provision wagons, and the progress, consequently,
was slow.

"Let us get into the fight!" was the cry heard on every side. "Don't
keep us waiting any longer."

"Keep cool," said one of the officers. "You'll get all the fighting you
want soon." And so it proved.

At a little after eight o'clock in the evening the Rough Riders found
themselves on El Poso Hill, and here the whole brigade to which they
were attached went into camp.

"It wasn't much of a camp," said one who was there. "We just threw out a
strong picket-guard and went to sleep on our arms, and glad of it, after
that day in the broiling sun. We had had to ford some pretty muddy
streams, and all of us were water and mud up to our knees. But everybody
was as enthusiastic to fight as ever."

At sunrise the battle opened at El Caney, and the Rough Riders could
hear the booming of cannon. At once all was activity, and the men
prepared to move ahead at a moment's notice.

Acting Colonel Roosevelt was with Colonel Wood at the time, and both
were listening to the roar of the artillery.

"I wish we could move--" began Colonel Wood, when, of a sudden, both he
and Theodore Roosevelt heard a strange humming sound in the air. Then
came the explosion of a shrapnel shell over their heads, and both leaped
to their feet.

"This is getting warm!" cried Theodore Roosevelt, and ran toward his
horse, when boom! came another explosion, and one of the bullets fell
upon his wrist, making, as he himself says, "a bump about as big as a
hickory nut." This same shell, he adds, wounded four of the men under
him and two or three regulars, one of whom lost his leg. Certainly
another providential escape on the part of the future President.

Without loss of time Theodore Roosevelt ordered his troops into the
underbrush, and here, for the time being, they were safe. On account of
the smokeless powder they used, the Spanish batteries could not be
precisely located, so our own artillery were at a slight disadvantage.

But now the blood of the Americans was fully aroused, and soon came an
order for a general advance,--something that was hailed with wild
delight by the Rough Riders.

"Hurrah, now we'll show 'em what the Yankees can do!" was the cry. "Down
with the Dons! Three cheers for Uncle Sam!"

The Rough Riders had to ford the river, and while they were doing this,
a balloon that had been used for observations came down in that vicinity
and attracted the attention of the Spanish sharpshooters. The firing was
now heavy on all sides, and many a gallant soldier went down to rise no

Then came another wait of an hour, during which the Rough Riders rested
in a hollow leading up from the river. Again there was grumbling. With
so much fighting on all sides, why could they not advance?

"We'll get our turn," said Theodore Roosevelt. And soon after a staff
officer dashed up with orders to move forward and support the cavalry of
the regular army on the hills in front.

"Now to the front!" was the cry. "Down with the Dons!" And away went
troop after troop on the double-quick, with Acting Colonel Roosevelt
leading them. Shot and shell were hurling themselves through the air in
all directions, and on all sides could be heard the shrieks and groans
of the dead and the dying. It was a time long to be remembered. Men went
down in all directions, and with them not a few officers. It was so hot
that Roosevelt's orderly was prostrated from the heat and afterward
died. Roosevelt summoned another Rough Rider, and had just finished
giving the man some orders when the soldier pitched forward upon his
commander, killed by a bullet through the throat.

As the troops advanced, Theodore Roosevelt urged his men forward and
told them to do their best, to which they responded with a cheer. He was
on horseback at the time, and soon came across a man lying in the shade,
probably overcome by the heat. He started to speak to the Rough Rider
when a bullet hit the fellow and killed him on the spot.

"I suppose that bullet was meant for me," says Mr. Roosevelt, in writing
of this incident. "I, who was on horseback in the open, was unhurt, and
the man lying flat on the ground in the cover beside me was killed."

The fight had now centred around the possession of San Juan Hill, upon
which was located a Spanish blockhouse. The bullets were flying as
thickly as ever, when Roosevelt was ordered to advance in support of
another regiment. As the Rough Riders reached the spot where the other
regiment was, they found the men lying down awaiting orders.

"I am ordered to support your regiment," said Theodore Roosevelt to the
first captain he met.

"We are awaiting orders to advance," answered the captain of the

"In my opinion we cannot take these hills by firing at them," returned
the commander of the Rough Riders. "We must rush them."

"My orders are to keep my men where they are."

"Where is your Colonel?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if he isn't here, then I am the ranking officer, and I give the
order to charge," came quickly and positively from Theodore Roosevelt.

"Well, sir,--I--I have orders from our Colonel--" began the captain of
the regulars.

"If you won't charge, let my men pass through, sir," cut in the Acting
Colonel of the Rough Riders, and he ordered his men to move to the
front. This was too much for the regulars, and up they sprang with
shouts and yells, and Rough Riders and regulars went up San Juan Hill
together. Roosevelt was on horseback as before, but at a barbed-wire
fence he leaped to the ground, swung his hat in the air, and joined his
men on foot.

The fight was now at its fiercest, and men were being mowed down in all
directions. But the fever of battle was in the veins of all the American
soldiers, and nothing could stop them. Up the hill they went, loading
and firing at random, and making as many shots as possible tell. The
Spaniards were in retreat, and soon Old Glory was planted in several
places. Some of the leading officers had been shot, and Theodore
Roosevelt found himself at one time in command of five regiments, and
doing his best to keep them in military order. Strange as it may seem,
with bullets flying all around him, he remained unharmed, saving for
some slight scratches which, he tells us, "were of no consequence."

With the top of the hill gained, the American soldiers could get a
distant glimpse of Santiago, several miles away, and some wanted to move
still farther forward. But the Spaniards had strong intrenchments to
fall back upon, and it was deemed best to "let well enough alone."
Accordingly the American line was made as strong as possible, and by
nightfall the battle was at an end, and the Rough Riders were told to
hold the hill and intrench, and they did so. In the blockhouse they
found some food belonging to some Spanish officers, and upon this they
feasted after their well-earned victory.



The fight had been a hard and heavy one. The Rough Riders had gone into
the engagement just 490 strong, and of that number 89 were killed or
wounded. The total loss to the Americans was 1071 killed and wounded.
The loss to the Spanish was also heavy, but the exact figures will
probably never be known.

Utterly tired out with their marching and fighting, the Rough Riders
intrenched as best they could, cared for their wounded and dead, and
then dropped down to get a well-earned rest. The night was misty and
cold, and many who had been bathed in perspiration suffered accordingly.
Theodore Roosevelt had a blanket taken from the Spanish, and in this he
rolled himself, and slept with others of his command.

At three o'clock in the morning came an unexpected alarm. The Spanish
skirmishers were out in force, trying to drive the Americans back. But
there was no heavy attack, and presently all became as quiet as before.

"They'll not give up yet," said one of the officers of the Rough Riders.
"They mean to retake this hill if they can."

Just at daybreak the Spaniards opened the attack on San Juan Hill once
more. Theodore Roosevelt was resting under a little tree when a shrapnel
shell burst close by, killing or wounding five men of the command. He at
once ordered the eight troops under him to a safer position, where the
Spanish battery and the sharpshooters could not locate them so readily.

If the fight had been hard, guarding the trenches was almost equally so.
The sun beat down fiercely, and the newly turned up earth made many of
the Rough Riders sick. Added to this, provisions were, as usual, slow in
arriving. Those in the trenches were kept there six hours, and then
relieved by the others who were farther to the rear.

"Running from the cover of brush to the trenches was no easy matter,"
says one Rough Rider who was there. "We had dug the trenches in a hurry,
and had no passages from the rear leading to them. All we could do was
to wait for a signal, and then rush, and when we did that, the Spaniards
would open a hot fire and keep it up for perhaps fifteen minutes. The
sun was enough to turn a man's brain, and more than one poor fellow
caught a fever there that proved fatal to him."

Through the entire day the firing continued, but no advances were made
upon either side. The Americans were waiting for reinforcements, and the
Spaniards were doing likewise. On our side a dynamite gun and two Colt's
guns were used, but with little success. But the Gatling guns proved
very effective, and caused a great loss to the enemy.

The city of Santiago lies on the northeast coast of a large bay of the
same name. This bay is shaped somewhat like a bottle, with a long neck
joining it to the Caribbean Sea.

In the harbor, at the time of the battles just described, the Spaniards
had a fleet of war-ships under the command of Admiral Cervera, an old
and able naval commander. In the fleet were four large cruisers and two
torpedo-boats. Three of the cruisers were of seven thousand tons burden
each, and all could make from eighteen to nineteen knots an hour. Each
carried a crew of about five hundred men, and all were well supplied
with guns and ammunition.

To keep this fleet "bottled up," our own navy had a fleet of its own
just outside of the harbor, where it had been stationed ever since
Admiral Cervera had been discovered within. The American fleet consisted
of the cruiser _Brooklyn_, which was Commodore Schley's flag-ship, the
battleships _Texas_, _Iowa_, _Indiana_, and _Oregon_ (the latter having
sailed all the way from the Pacific coast around Cape Horn to get into
the fight), and the converted yachts _Gloucester_ and _Vixen_. There
were also close at hand, but not near enough to get into the fight, the
cruiser _New York_, Admiral Sampson's flag-ship, and several other
vessels of lesser importance.

For a long time it had been thought that Cervera would try to escape
from the harbor, in which he could not be reached because of the strong
forts that protected the entrance. To bottle him up more effectively,
the Americans tried to block up the harbor entrance by sinking an old
iron steamboat, the _Merrimac_, in the channel. This heroic work was
undertaken by Lieutenant Hobson with a crew of seven daring men, but the
plan failed, for the _Merrimac_, instead of sinking where intended,
swung to one side of the main channel.

When it was reported to him that the Americans had taken the heights of
El Caney and San Juan and were strongly intrenched in their positions,
Admiral Cervera concluded that Santiago Bay might soon become too hot to
hold him. The capture of the city would be followed by the taking of the
forts at the harbor entrance, and then there would be nothing left for
him to do but to surrender.

San Juan and El Caney had been taken on Friday, and all day Saturday
occurred the shooting at long range, as already described. In the
meantime the war-ships outside of the harbor kept up a close watch on
the harbor entrance, lying well out during the day, but coming in closer
at night, and using their powerful search-lights from sundown to

Sunday dawned bright and clear, and for the time being all was quiet
both ashore and afloat. In the trenches the Rough Riders and other
soldiers were still on guard, doing what they could for their wounded,
and trying to get the rations which were still delayed.

Presently, those on board of the American fleet noticed a thick cloud of
smoke hanging over the harbor, coming from the funnels of the Spanish
war-ships. Then one of the enemy's vessels showed itself, quickly
followed by the others, and all turned westward, to escape up the coast.

"The enemy is escaping!" was the signal hoisted. And then one cannon
after another boomed out, giving the signal to all our ships in that
vicinity. The booming of the cannon was heard away eastward at Siboney,
whither Admiral Sampson had gone with his ship to confer with General
Shafter, and without delay the _New York_ raced madly back to get into
the fight that followed.

"Remember the _Maine!_" was the cry. "Down with the Spanish ships! Give
'em what Dewey did!" And this cry, "Give 'em what Dewey did!" was heard
on every hand.

The first vessel to go down was a torpedo-boat, sunk by the
_Gloucester_, and this was quickly followed by the sinking of the second
torpedo-boat. In the meantime the larger vessels were pouring in their
rain of steel upon the Spanish cruisers with deadly effect, knocking
great holes into the ships and killing scores of those on board.

The Spanish cruiser _Teresa_ was the first to succumb to the heavy
attack, and soon she turned in to shore to save her crew from drowning.
Then the _Oquendo_ caught fire in several places, and burning fiercely
from stem to stern, she, too, turned in.

But two ships were now left to Admiral Cervera, the _Vizcaya_ and the
_Colon_, and each had suffered much. Both were doing their best to get
out of reach of our guns and the marvellous accuracy of our gunners.

"Don't let 'em get away!" was the cry. "Give 'em what Dewey did!"
Forward went the war-ships of Uncle Sam, the powerful _Oregon_ leading,
with the _Brooklyn_ and _Texas_ not far behind. The rain of steel
continued, and at last, burning like her sister ships, the _Vizcaya_
turned shoreward, and many of her crew leaped overboard to save their

Only the _Colon_ now remained. She was still in fair condition, and it
was the Spaniards' ardent hope to save at least one ship from the dire
calamity that had overtaken them. But this was not to be, and after a
run of a few miles, during which the _Oregon_ and _Brooklyn_ continued
to pound her with shot and shell, the Spanish flag was lowered, and the
_Colon_ also ran ashore.

It was assuredly a mighty victory, a fitting mate to the great victory
won by Admiral Dewey, and when the news reached our country there was
such a Fourth of July celebration everywhere as will never be forgotten.
Twice had our navy met the ships of Spain, and each time we had sunk
every vessel without losing any of our own. More than this, while the
Spaniards had lost many men through shot and fire and drowning, our
total loss was but one man killed and a handful wounded.

The loss of her second fleet was a bitter blow to Spain, and many
predicted that the war would not continue much longer, and this
prediction proved correct.

During the rush made by the Rough Riders and our other soldiers, they
had gone right through several bodies of Spanish guerillas who were
secreted in the trees of the jungle. These guerillas, really lawless
fellows belonging to no particular command, could not get back into
Santiago because of the strong American guard at the intrenchments, and
consequently they contented themselves with remaining out of sight and
peppering our soldiers whenever the opportunity offered.

"This will not do," said Theodore Roosevelt. "They are shooting down our
men without giving them a chance to fire back. We'll have to get after
them." And without delay he sent out a detachment of the best Rough
Rider shots to be found. These sharpshooters searched the jungle back of
the intrenchments thoroughly, and as a result killed eleven of the
guerillas and wounded many more. After that the guerillas kept their
distance, satisfied that the Yankees could beat them at their own game.



With the defeat of Admiral Cervera's fleet, a flag of truce was sent
into Santiago by the commander of our army, demanding the surrender of
the city. While these negotiations were pending, all fighting came to an
end, and the Rough Riders had but little to do outside of making
themselves comfortable and caring for the many who were getting sick
because of the lack of shelter and proper food. Food was now coming in
more rapidly, and soon all were supplied with tents and blankets. During
this time Theodore Roosevelt's personal baggage appeared, and he
celebrated the arrival by treating himself to a shave and a change of
linen, something impossible to do since the fighting had begun.

In his own writings, Mr. Roosevelt has spoken at great length of the
devotion which all of the Rough Riders displayed toward him. They were
anxious to wait on him at all hours of the day and night. Some would
pitch his tent, others would clean his weapons, and still others would
go hunting and bring in such game as the vicinity afforded. When ordered
to do anything, there was rarely a grumble. Those in the hospital bore
their sufferings with remarkable fortitude.

In return for this, Theodore Roosevelt did all he could to make life
less hard for those under him. The game that was brought to him he sent
to the hospital, that the wounded might have proper nourishment; and he
either went himself or sent somebody to the seacoast, to purchase food
which the commissary department possessed, but which, through lack of
organization, it was slow in distributing. When no shelter was to be
had, he slept on the ground with his men, and when they had to work on
the trenches at night, he was up and around superintending the labor.

"He was one of us, and he let us know it," was said by one of the Rough
Riders. "He ate the same food we did, and he was mighty good to the
sick and the wounded. He paid for lots of things out of his own pocket,
and I don't believe he has ever asked Uncle Sam to pay him back."

There was no telling how soon the truce would come to an end and
fighting would begin again, and night after night the Rough Riders were
kept on guard. There was a standing order that each fourth man should
keep awake while the others slept, and no matter how dark or rainy the
night, Theodore Roosevelt tramped around from one trench to another,
seeing to it that this order was obeyed. He also visited the
intrenchments of other commands, to compare them and make certain that
the grade of service was equally high among the Rough Riders. This shows
distinctly that he was a natural-born military commander.

The truce lasted a week, and while all operations were supposed to have
come to an end, both the Americans and the Spaniards spent the time in
strengthening their positions. At one time the Americans constructed a
fairly good defence, in which they placed two Gatling guns and two
automatic Colt guns, and this was named Fort Roosevelt, in honor of the
Rough Rider commander.

On the tenth of July the fighting began once more, and again the
batteries on both sides sent shot and shell into the camps of the enemy.
It was largely fighting at long range, and the only Rough Riders who
took part were those who manned the Colt's guns, and a small body of
sharpshooters stationed in a trench well to the front.

On the next day the Rough Riders were ordered northward, to guard the
road running from Santiago to El Caney. Here some fighting was in
progress, and the troopers expected to get into battle once more. But
the skirmish came to an end before they arrived, very much to their

Hardly had the Rough Riders settled in their new position than a storm
came up which proved to be the heaviest yet experienced during the
campaign. While Theodore Roosevelt was sleeping in his tent, the shelter
was blown down and away, and all of his personal effects were scattered
in the mud and wet. As best he could, he donned his clothing, saw to it
that his men were safe, and then betook himself to a kitchen tent,
where he finished the sleep of that night on a rude table recently taken
from an abandoned Spanish home in that vicinity.

"On that night it rained cats and dogs and hammer-handles," said one of
the soldiers afterward. "It was inky dark--darker than I have ever known
it to be anywhere on the plains. The water made a muddy pond of the
whole camp, and the trenches were half filled in no time. Everything was
blown helter-skelter by the furious wind, and some of our outfits we
never recovered. In the midst of the confusion some fellows reported
that the Spaniards were trying to break through our lines, but the
report was false,--the outsiders were starving Cubans who had come in
looking for shelter and something to eat. We gave them what we
could--which was precious little, for we had next to nothing
ourselves--and then got them to help us get things together again. One
of the Cubans was an old man, who could speak a little English. He said
he had lost two daughters and three grandchildren by starvation since
the war between Spain and Cuba had started. He himself was little more
than a skeleton."

That Theodore Roosevelt was warmhearted enough to look out for other
soldiers besides those of his own command is proven by what took place
on the day following the big storm. Next to the Rough Riders were
located a regiment of Illinois Volunteers. Because of the muddy roads
and swollen streams, they could get no rations, and scant as were their
own supplies, Colonel Roosevelt had the Rough Riders furnish them with
beans, coffee, and a few cases of hardtack, for which they were
extremely grateful. Later in the day the commander of the Rough Riders
also got to them part of a mule train of provisions.

The American position had been greatly strengthened, and many additional
troops were now at the front. It was felt that an advance upon Santiago
would surely result in victory, although the losses might be large. But
the Spaniards were no longer in a position to continue the struggle, and
on July 17 the city formally surrendered. The surrendered territory
covered many miles, and the Spanish soldiers to lay down their arms
numbered upward of twenty thousand.

There was great cheering in the American trenches when the glad news was
brought in, and soon Old Glory was planted on every height, while the
trumpets sounded out triumphantly. Possession of Santiago was immediate,
and in a few hours the Stars and Stripes floated from the flagstaff of
the civil government buildings. Our gallant army had won on the land
just as our gallant navy had won on the sea. The war had been, for us,
one of triumph from start to finish.

In foreign countries the news was received with an astonishment that can
scarcely be described. After Dewey's wonderful victory in Manila Bay,
many naval experts said that such a fight could not be duplicated, yet
it was duplicated two months later off Santiago Bay in a manner that
left no doubt of American supremacy on the sea. Then when it came to
fighting on land, our army was designated as "paper" soldiers, that is,
soldiers on paper or in name only, and it was said that their guns would
be found of little use against the Mausers of Spain. But this was
likewise false; and to-day the army and navy of the United States are
respected everywhere. And more than this, foreign powers have come to
our country for many of their war-ships, asking us to build and equip
them, and also asking us to make cannon and rifles for them.

While the war was on in Cuba, a part of the United States army under
General Miles was sent to Porto Rico, another island belonging to Spain.
Here the inhabitants hailed the Americans with delight, and the
resistance by the Spanish soldiers was only half-hearted.

With the downfall of the navy and Santiago, Spain knew not what to do
next, and gladly received the terms of peace offered by President
McKinley and his advisers. The terms were accepted on August 9, and thus
the short but sharp war came to a termination. By the treaty of peace
Cuba was given her liberty, and Porto Rico and the Philippines passed
into the possession of the United States.



Four days after the surrender of Santiago the Rough Riders found
themselves in the hills four or five miles back from the intrenchments
they had occupied during the last fight. Other commands were scattered
in various directions, for to let them go into the wretched city would
have been out of the question. Santiago was dirty in the extreme; the
fever was there, and hundreds were on the verge of starvation.

It was a trying time for everybody, and equally so for Theodore
Roosevelt, who did all in his power, as before, to make his men
comfortable. When it did not rain, the sun came out fiercely, causing a
rapid evaporation that was thoroughly exhausting to the soldiers. The
locality was not a healthy one, and soon scores of Rough Riders and
others were down with malaria or fever. Doctors and surgeons were
scarce, and hospital accommodations were scanty, and again and again did
Colonel Roosevelt send down on his own account to the seacoast and to
Santiago for food and medicines of which his command were in dire need.
He was now colonel of the Rough Riders in reality, his promotion having
been granted to him just one week after the heroic charge up San Juan
Hill. His old colonel, Wood, was installed at Santiago as military
governor. This, for the time being, left Colonel Roosevelt in command of
the cavalry brigade, no small honor to one who had been, but a few
months before, a stranger to military duties.

During this time in camp, Theodore Roosevelt visited Santiago and the
forts at the entrance to the harbor, and with the pen of a skilled
author he has, in one of his books, given us vivid pictures of the
sights to be seen there at that time--the crooked streets with their
queer shops, the wretched inhabitants, the grim and frowning forts, all
hemmed in by the towering mountains and the sea. He likewise tells of
his trips to the mountains, and how his companions were usually
exhausted by the climbing done. For one who in his youth had been so
delicate, he stood the exposure remarkably well, for which he was

For some time the authorities at Washington did not know what to do with
the troops in Cuba. It was suggested that they move up to higher ground,
or to another neighborhood. But General Shafter knew, and so did all of
the officers under him, that to keep the army in the island would only
mean more sickness and death.

"I will go to the general with a protest," said Colonel Roosevelt. And
he did so. Meanwhile the other head officers drew up a letter of
protest, and this was signed by all, including the commander of the
Rough Riders. In his own letter Roosevelt protested against the
treatment of his men in the matter of rations, clothing, and hospital
accommodations, and in the other letter, called by the officers a Round
Robin, there was a protest about remaining in Cuba longer, with the
fever getting worse every day. These letters were made public through
the press of the United States, with the result that the troops were
ordered home without further delay.

The Rough Riders left Cuba on August 7, just six weeks and a half after
landing. The time spent in the island had been short, but to many it
seemed an age. None were sorry to depart, although sad to think that
some of the sick had to be left behind.

The transport used this time was the _Miami_, and Mr. Roosevelt tells us
that, taken as a whole, the accommodations were better than they had
been on the _Yucatan_. But on the trip much trouble was had with some of
the stokers and engineers, who insisted upon drinking some liquor
smuggled aboard.

"I will not permit this," said Colonel Roosevelt. And he read the
disorderly ones a strong lecture and made them give up their liquor.
After that, as there was much grumbling, he set a guard; and that was
the end of that trouble.

The destination of the transport was Montauk, on the extreme eastern
shore of Long Island. The trip took nine days,--rather a dreary time to
those anxious to see their native land once more. When an anchorage was
gained, a gunboat came out to the transport with the welcome news that
Spain had agreed to our terms.

The sick had still to be cared for; yet, taken as a whole, the month
spent at the camp at Montauk was pleasant enough. Here Colonel Roosevelt
met that part of the regiment that had been left behind in Florida, and
all the stories of the fights had to be told over and over again.

"It was good to meet the rest of the regiment," says Mr. Roosevelt, in
his book. "They all felt dreadfully at not having been in Cuba. Of
course those who stayed had done their duty precisely as did those who
went." Which was true; yet, as he adds, those who had been left behind
could not be comforted.

Colonel Roosevelt was still in charge of the brigade while at Montauk,
and much of his time was taken up in getting out necessary reports, and
seeing to it that the entire camp was kept in first-class sanitary

"And he was up to the mark," said one of those who were there. "He
didn't allow the least bit of dirt, and everything had to be as
shipshape as if we were at West Point. And it was a good thing, too, for
it kept the sickness from spreading."

The sea-breeze is strong at Montauk, and this soon began to tell upon
all who were sick, putting in them new life and vigor. Here every
possible attention was given to those who were down, so that ere long
many were up again and as well as ever.

When he had a little time to himself, Theodore Roosevelt would gather a
few friends around him, and either go to the beach to bathe or go off on
a long horseback ride. War was to him a thing of the past, and he was
once more willing to become a private citizen as of old.

In those days the camp at Montauk was constantly crowded with visitors
from New York City and elsewhere, who poured in upon every train. All of
the soldiers who had been to Cuba were hailed as heroes, and had to tell
their stories many times.

"Every soldier had a crowd following him," said one private. "The
visitors wanted to know how we had fought, how we had been treated by
the government, how things looked in Cuba, and a hundred and one
other things. Most of the visitors, especially the ladies, wanted our
autographs, and I had to write mine as many as forty times a day. I
remember one of the men, a cowboy from Oklahoma, couldn't write, and he
got so upset over this that every time somebody asked him for his
autograph he would run away, saying he had forgotten to do something
that he had been ordered to do. When I and some chums went down to New
York to look around, all the folks stared at us, and many insisted on
shaking hands and treating."

[Illustration: COLONEL ROOSEVELT AT MONTAUK POINT. (_Photograph by Pach
Bros., New York._)]

The uniforms the Rough Riders had worn in Cuba were in rags, and many
had boarded the transport barefooted. The rags were saved as trophies of
the occasion, and many are still in existence.

At Camp Wykoff, as the place was called, there was a large hospital for
the sick, and to this many came to do what they could for the sufferers,
who were now given every possible attention. Among the visitors was Miss
Helen Gould, who had used her ample means for the benefit of the sick
all through the war, and who now continued to play the good Samaritan.
President McKinley and many of his cabinet likewise visited the camp,
and saw to it that everything in the hospital and out of it was as it
should be. The sick were presented with the best of fruits and other
things, and many ladies assisted the nurses by reading to the patients
and by writing letters for them.

Now that they had nothing to do in the shape of fighting, many of the
Rough Riders were anxious to get back to the wild West. Life in an
ordinary camp did not suit them, and at every available opportunity they
indulged in "horse play," working off many practical jokes upon each

One day a report went the rounds that a member of another cavalry
organization could not master a certain horse that had been assigned to
him. The report was true, for the horse was what is called by ranchmen a
"bad bucker."

"I think Sergeant Darnell can master him," said Colonel Roosevelt.

He referred to one of the best "bronco busters" among the Rough Riders,
a man who had never yet allowed a steed to get the best of him.

"All right, let Darnell try him," said others. And a test was arranged
for the day following.

At that time Secretary of War Alger was in camp, and a great crowd of
visitors, military men and others, gathered before Colonel Roosevelt's
quarters to watch the contest. At the proper time the vicious horse was
brought forth, and watching his chance, Sergeant Darnell leaped upon his
back. Then came such a bucking, leaping, and prancing as many had never
witnessed before.

"He'll be killed!" cried many of the ladies. "The horse will have him
under in another moment." But such fears were groundless. Darnell knew
exactly what he was doing, and in the end the fiery steed had to give
in, completely conquered.

On the last Sunday in camp, Chaplain Brown delivered an impressive
sermon, to which all listened with grave attention. After he had
finished, Theodore Roosevelt spoke to the men in a feeling way.

"I told them how proud I was of them," he says. "But warned them not to
think that they could go back and rest on their laurels, bidding them
remember that though for ten days or so the world would be willing to
treat them as heroes, yet after that time they would find they would
have to get down to hard work just like anybody else, unless they were
willing to be regarded as worthless do-nothings." This was the best
possible advice, and it is believed that many of the soldiers profited
by it.

Before the men were mustered out, they treated their beloved commander
to a genuine surprise. They had had a fine bronze of a "Bronco Buster"
made, and this was presented to Colonel Roosevelt on behalf of the whole
regiment. It touched him deeply, and to-day this bronze is one of his
most highly prized gifts.

At last came news that the Rough Riders would be mustered out of the
United States service the next day. That evening a great celebration
took place, in which all of the men joined, each according to his own
notion of what a celebration should be. Large bonfires were lit, and
here some delivered speeches, the soldiers from the colleges sang, those
with Indian blood in them gave a characteristic dance, and cowboys and
ranchmen did "double-shuffles" and "cut up" as suited them.

On the morning of September 15, four months after the Rough Riders had
been organized, the colors were lowered in camp, the men were mustered
out, and officers and privates shook hands and said good-by.

"It was the greatest sight I ever saw," says one of the number. "Not
until that moment came did we realize what it meant to part with those
who had fought with us in battle and suffered the hardships of life in
the trenches. Strange friendships had been formed, some between those
who were very rich and very poor, and others between those who were well
educated and very ignorant. One man who was studying for a professional
life had as his particular chum a rough cowboy who had never spent six
months over his books. But the two had stood by each other and suffered,
and I really believe they were willing to lay down their lives for each

"Many of the men could hardly bear to part with Colonel Roosevelt. He
had stuck by them through thick and thin, and they worshipped him. Some
shook hands half a dozen times, and some hardly dared to speak for fear
of breaking down. I never expect to see the match of that scene again."



The war with Spain was at an end, and Uncle Sam had now to turn his
attention to the Philippines, where for many months to come military
disturbances of a more or less serious nature were to take place.

Theodore Roosevelt might have remained in the army, and had he done so
there is no doubt but that he would have swiftly risen to a rank of

But the people of the State of New York willed otherwise.

"He is a great military man," they said. "But he was likewise a fine
Police Commissioner and a Civil Service Commissioner, fighting
continually for what was right and good. Let us make him our next

The convention that nominated Theodore Roosevelt for the highest office
in the Empire State met at Saratoga, September 27, 1898, just twelve
days after the Rough Riders were mustered out. At that time Frank S.
Black was governor of the state, having been elected two years before by
a large majority. The governor had many friends, and they said he
deserved another term.

"Roosevelt is not a citizen of this state," said they. "He gave up his
residence here when he went to Washington to become Assistant Secretary
of the Navy."

"We don't want him anyway," said other politicians, who had not
forgotten how the Rough Rider had acted when in the Assembly. "If he
gets into office, it will be impossible to manage him." And they worked
night and day to defeat the hero of San Juan Hill.

On the day of the convention, the hall where it was held was jammed with
people. The people were also crowded in the street outside, and on every
hand were seen Rough Rider badges.

"It was a Roosevelt crowd from top to bottom," says one who was there.
"You heard his name everywhere--in the hotels, on the streets, no
matter where you went. Every once in a while somebody would shout,
'Three cheers for Teddy!' and the cheers would be given with a will."

As soon as the convention had settled down to business, Governor Black
was put up for nomination, and then the Hon. Chauncey M. Depew presented
the name of Theodore Roosevelt. He spoke of what had been done in Cuba,
and added:--

"The Rough Riders endured no hardships nor dangers which were not shared
by their Colonel. He helped them dig their ditches; he stood beside them
in the deadly dampness of the trenches. No floored tent for him if his
comrades must sleep on the ground and under the sky. In that world-famed
charge of the Rough Riders up the hill of San Juan, their Colonel was a
hundred feet in advance."

There was a prolonged cheering when Theodore Roosevelt's name was
mentioned, and hundreds waved their handkerchiefs and flags. Other
speeches followed, and at last came the voting. Out of the total number
cast Theodore Roosevelt received seven hundred and fifty-three and
Governor Black two hundred and eighteen.

"I move we make the nomination of Theodore Roosevelt unanimous!" cried
Judge Cady, who had previously presented the name of Governor Black. And
amid continued cheering this was done.

Theodore Roosevelt had been nominated on the regular Republican ticket.
In opposition, the Democrats nominated Augustus Van Wyck, also well
known, and likewise of as old Dutch stock as Roosevelt himself.

The campaign was a decidedly strenuous one. The Democrats made every
effort to win, while on the other hand the Republicans who had wanted
Governor Black for another term did not give to Mr. Roosevelt the
support promised when his nomination had been made unanimous.

"We shall be defeated," said more than one friend to Roosevelt. "It
seems a shame, but we cannot arouse the party as it should be aroused."

"I will see what I can do myself," answered the former leader of the
Rough Riders. And he arranged to make a complete tour of the State,
taking in almost every city and town of importance. When some of the
old campaign managers heard of this, they came to Roosevelt in great

"You mustn't do it," they said. "It will ruin you."

"I will risk it," was the answer of the candidate. And forthwith he
started on his tour, taking a handful of his Rough Rider friends with

It was a brilliant stroke on the part of Theodore Roosevelt, and it told
tremendously in his favor. Wherever he went, the people turned out in
large crowds to see him and to listen to what he or his Rough Rider
companions had to say. Citizens by the hundred came up to shake him by
the hand and wish him success. Parades were organized to do him honor,
and at night there would be brilliant illuminations and fireworks.

"We have aroused the party," said he, when the tour was at an end. And
so it proved. Although Van Wyck was popular, Theodore Roosevelt was
elected to the high office of governor by seventeen thousand plurality.

It was certainly a high position for such a young man to occupy. He was
barely forty years of age, yet as governor of New York he ruled twice as
many people as did George Washington when first President of the United

He entered on his new duties with as much zeal as he had displayed when
organizing the Rough Riders, and in a few weeks had the reins of
government well in hand. It is said that while he was governor he was
never surprised by those who opposed him. When they wanted facts and
figures he was able to produce them, and he never supported or vetoed a
measure unless he was morally certain he was on the right side. He was
open-faced to the last degree, and what he said he meant.

During his term of office many measures of importance were considered,
but in a work of this kind it is not necessary to go into details. For
several important offices he nominated men of his own selection, despite
the protests of some older politicians, and these selections proved

During his term as governor, Mr. Roosevelt did a great work for many
poor people in New York City, who worked in what are called "sweat
shops,"--small, close quarters, not fit for working purposes, in which
men, women, and children make clothing and other articles. He enforced
what was known as the Factory Law, and the owners of the "sweat-shops"
had to seek larger and more sanitary quarters for their employees. He
also took a strong hand in reforming the administration of the canals,
which had been one-sided and unfair.

But perhaps his greatest work was in behalf of a measure meant to make
the great corporations of New York State pay their fair share of the
general taxes. In the past these corporations had had great rights
conferred upon them, and they had paid little or nothing in return.

"This is unjust," said Governor Roosevelt. "They should pay their taxes
just as the poorest citizen is compelled to pay his tax."

When the corporations heard this, many of the men in control were
furious, and they threatened the governor in all sorts of ways. They
would defeat him if he ever again came up for election, and defeat him
so badly that he would never again be heard of.

"Do as you please, gentlemen," said the governor. "I am here to do my
duty, and I intend to do it." And he called an extra session of the
legislature for that purpose. It is said that much money was used by
some corporations to defeat Governor Roosevelt's will, but in the end a
modified form of the bill was passed. Since that time other bills along
similar lines have become laws; so that the great corporations have to
pay millions of dollars which in the past they had escaped paying. Such
measures are of immense benefit to the ordinary citizen, and for his
share in this work Theodore Roosevelt deserves great credit.

It was while governor of New York that Mr. Roosevelt gave to the public
his book entitled "The Rough Riders." It contains a history of that
organization from his personal point of view, and makes the most
fascinating kind of reading from beginning to end. It was well received,
and added not a little to the laurels of the writer as an author.

Although much of his time was spent at Albany as Executive, Theodore
Roosevelt had not given up the old homestead at Oyster Bay on Long
Island, and thither he went for rest and recreation, taking his entire
family, which, as has been said, consisted of his wife and six children,
with him.

The old Roosevelt homestead is on a hill about three miles distant from
the village. The road to the house winds upward through a wilderness of
trees and brushwood. At the top of the hill, where the house stands, is
a cleared space, free to the strong breezes of Long Island Sound. It is
on the north shore, about twenty-five miles from City Hall, New York.

The house is a large, three-story affair, with crossed gables, and a
large semicircular veranda at one end. Inside there is a wide hall, and
all the rooms are of good size, with broad windows and inviting open
fireplaces. One room is fitted up as Mr. Roosevelt's "den," with many
bookcases filled with books, and with rare prints of Washington,
Lincoln, and other celebrities on the walls, and with not a few trophies
of the hunt added. In this room Mr. Roosevelt has done much of his work
as an author.

It is said that Abraham Lincoln not only chopped wood for a living, but
that he rather enjoyed the outdoor exercise. Be that as it may, it
remains a fact that Mr. Roosevelt frequently goes forth into the woods
on his estate to fell a tree, or split one up, just for the exercise
thus afforded. This he did while he was governor of New York, and once
astonished some newspaper men who had come to see him on business by the
dexterity with which he cut a large tree trunk in two. He even invited
his visitors to "take a hack at it" themselves, but they respectfully

He still kept up his athletic exercise, and one of his favorite
amusements was to go on long horseback rides, either alone, or with some
relative or friend. At other times he would go deep into the woods with
his young sons, showing them how to bring down the nuts from the trees,
or how to use their guns on any small game that chanced to show itself.
His family life was then, as it has always been, a happy one; but of
this let us speak later.


(_Photograph by Pach Bros., N.Y._)]



Although the war with Spain was over, the people of the United States
had not forgotten the wonderful work accomplished by Admiral Dewey and
his men at Manila, and when the dauntless naval fighter returned to this
country, people everywhere arose to do him honor.

"He well deserves it," said Governor Roosevelt. And he appointed
September 29 and 30, 1899, as public holidays, to be observed throughout
the entire State as days of general thanksgiving. These days were
commonly called "Dewey Days."

The reception to the Admiral and to the other naval heroes was to take
place in New York and vicinity, and for many days the citizens were busy
decorating their homes and places of business with flags and bunting
and pictures, and immense signs of "Welcome," some in letters several
feet long. At the junction of Broadway, Fifth Avenue, and Twenty-Third
Street, an immense triumphal arch was erected, and reviewing stands
stretched along the line of parade for many miles.

On the day before the grand reception, Governor Roosevelt, with some
members of his staff, called upon Admiral Dewey on board of the
_Olympia_, and offered the State's greeting. A pleasant time was had by
all, and the governor assured the sea hero that the people of New York
and vicinity were more than anxious to do him honor.

It had been arranged that a naval parade should be held on the first day
of the reception, and a land parade on the day following. The course of
the naval parade was up the Hudson River past Grant's Tomb, and the
grand procession on the water included the _Olympia_, the Admiral's
flag-ship, and the _New York_, _Indiana_, _Massachusetts_, _Texas_,
_Brooklyn_, and a large number of other war-ships of lesser importance,
besides an immense number of private steam-yachts and other craft.

The day dawned clear and bright, and the banks of the Hudson were lined
from end to end with people. When the procession of war-ships swept up
the stream, loud was the applause, while flags waved everywhere, and
whistles blew constantly. When passing Grant's Tomb every war-ship fired
a salute, and the mass of sound echoing across the water was positively

As the _Olympia_ swept up the river, fired her salute, and then came to
anchor a short distance below the last resting-place of General Grant,
Admiral Dewey stood on the bridge of his flag-ship, a small, trim
figure, with a smile and a wave of the hand for everybody. The surging
people could see him but indistinctly, yet there was much hand clapping,
and throats grew sore with cheering.

But there was another figure in that naval parade, the person of one
also dear to the hearts of the people. It was the figure of Theodore
Roosevelt, dressed, not as a Rough Rider, but as a civilian, standing at
the rail of a steamer used by the New York State officials. When the
people saw and recognized that figure, the cheering was as wild as

"It is Roosevelt!" ran from mouth to mouth. "The hero of San Juan Hill!"

"Hurrah for the Rough Riders and their gallant leader!" came from
others. And the cheering was renewed.

In the evening there was a grand display of fireworks and illuminated
floats. The immense span of the Brooklyn Bridge was a mass of lights,
and contained the words "Welcome, Dewey" in lettering which covered
several hundred feet. All of the war-ships had their search-lights in
operation, and it can truthfully be said that for once the metropolis
was as light as day.

But all of this was as nothing compared with the land parade which
followed. Never before had the streets of New York been so jammed with
people. At many points it was impossible to move, yet the crowds were
good-natured and patriotic to the core. The parade started at Grant's
Tomb and ended at Washington Square, and was between five and six hours
in passing. Admiral Dewey rode in a carriage with Mayor Van Wyck, and
received another ovation. At the Triumphal Arch the Admiral reviewed
the parade, and here he was accorded additional honors.

In this parade Governor Roosevelt rode on horseback, in civilian dress.
As he came down the street, the immense crowds recognized him from afar,
and the hand clapping and cheering was tremendous, and lasted long after
he was out of sight.

"It's our own Teddy Roosevelt!" cried the more enthusiastic.

"Hurrah for the governor! Hurrah for the colonel of the Rough Riders!"

"Hurrah for the coming President!" said another. And he spoke better
than he knew.

This demonstration came straight from the people's heart, and it could
not help but affect Theodore Roosevelt. Sitting astride of his
dark-colored horse like a veteran, he bowed right and left. Next to
Dewey, he was easily the greatest figure in the parade.

On January 3, 1900, Governor Roosevelt sent his last annual message to
the State legislature. It was an able document, and as it was now
recognized everywhere that he was a truly national figure, it was given
careful attention. It treated of the corruption in canal management, of
the franchise tax, of taxation in general, and a large portion was
devoted to the trusts. At that time the trusts were receiving great
attention everywhere, and it was felt that what the governor had to say
about them, that they were largely over-capitalized, that they
misrepresented the condition of their affairs, that they promoted unfair
competition, and that they wielded increased power over the wage-earner,
was strictly true.

In Chicago there is a wealthy organization known as the Hamilton Club,
and the members were very anxious to have Governor Roosevelt as their
guest on Appomattox Day, April 10, 1899. A delegation went to New York
to invite the governor, and he accepted the invitation with pleasure.

"The middle West is very dear to me," said he. "It will be a pleasure to
meet my many friends there."

Of course he was expected to speak, and said the subject of his address
would be "The Strenuous Life,"--certainly a subject close to his own
heart, considering the life he himself had led.

When Mr. Roosevelt reached the metropolis of the Great Lakes, he found
a large crowd waiting at the railroad station to receive him. The
reception committee was on hand, with the necessary coaches, and people
were crowded everywhere, anxious to catch a sight of the man who had
made himself famous by the advance up San Juan Hill.

But for the moment Governor Roosevelt did not see the reception
committee, nor did he see the great mass of people. In a far corner of
the platform he caught sight of six men, dressed in the faded and
tattered uniform of the Rough Riders. They were not men of wealth or
position, but they were men of his old command, and he had not forgotten

"Glad to see you, boys, glad to see you!" he shouted, as he elbowed his
way toward them. "Come up here and shake hands."

"Glad to see you, Colonel," was the ready answer, and the faces of the
men broke into broad smiles. They shook hands readily, and willingly
answered all of the questions the governor put to them. He asked how
each of them was doing, calling them by their names, and concluded by
requesting them to come up to the Auditorium later, "for an all-round

"It was a great meeting," said one who was there. "Before the train came
in, those old Rough Riders were nervous and showed it. They knew that
Roosevelt had become a great man, and they were just a little afraid he
would pass them by. When the meeting was over, they went off as happy as
a lot of children, and one of them said, 'Say, fellows, Teddy's just all
right yet, ain't he?' And another answered: 'Told you he would be. He's
a white man through and through, none whiter anywhere.'"

The banquet was held in the Auditorium Theatre building, and was said to
be the largest ever given in Chicago. Many distinguished guests were
present, both from the North and the South, and the place was a mass of
flowers and brilliantly illuminated, while a fine orchestra discoursed
music during the meal. When Theodore Roosevelt arose to speak, there was
cheering that lasted fully a quarter of an hour.

The speech made upon this occasion is one not likely to be forgotten.
Previous to that time the word "strenuous" had been heard but seldom,
but ever since it has stood for something definite, and is much in use.
In part Mr. Roosevelt spoke as follows:--

"I wish to preach, not the doctrine of ignoble ease, but the doctrine of
the strenuous life; the life of toil and effort; of labor and strife; to
preach that highest form of success which comes, not to the man who
desires mere easy peace, but to the man who does not shirk from danger,
from hardship, or from bitter toil, and who out of these wins the
splendid ultimate triumph."

Another paragraph is equally interesting and elevating:--

"We do not admire the man of timid peace. We admire the man who embodies
victorious effort; the man who never wrongs his neighbor, who is prompt
to help a friend; but who has those virile qualities necessary to win in
the stern strife of actual life. It is hard to fail; but it is worse
never to have tried to succeed."

And to this he adds:--

"As it is with the individual so it is with the nation. It is a base
untruth to say that happy is the nation that has no history. Thrice
happy is the nation that has a glorious history. Far better is it to
dare mighty things to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by
failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy
much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows
neither victory nor defeat."[1]

[Footnote 1: For other extracts from this speech, see Appendix A, p.

[Illustration: Theodore Roosevelt]



As the time came on to nominate parties for the office of President and
Vice-President of the United States, in 1900, there was considerable
speculation in the Republican party regarding who should be chosen for
the second name on the ticket.

It was felt by everybody that President McKinley had honestly earned a
second term, not alone by his management of the war with Spain, but also
because of his stand touching the rebellion in the Philippines, and on
other matters of equal importance.

About the Vice-Presidency the political managers were not so sure, and
they mentioned several names. But in the hearts of the people there was
but one name, and that was Theodore Roosevelt.

"We must have him," was heard upon every side. "He will be just the
right man in the right place. He will give to the office an importance
never before attached to it, and an importance which it deserves."

Personally, Governor Roosevelt did not wish this added honor. As the
Executive of the greatest State in our Union, he had started great
reforms, and he wanted to finish them.

"My work is here," he said to many. "Let me do what I have been called
to do, and then I will again be at the service of the whole nation once

The National Republican Convention met in Philadelphia, June 19, in
Exposition Hall, beautifully decorated with flags and banners. Senator
Mark Hanna, President McKinley's warmest personal friend, was chairman,
and the delegates, numbering over seven hundred, came, as usual at such
conventions, from every State in the Union. Governor Roosevelt himself
was a delegate, and sat near the middle aisle, five or six seats from
the front. He was recognized by everybody, and it is safe to say that
he was the most conspicuous figure at the convention.

Up to the last minute many of the political leaders were, in a measure,
afraid of Theodore Roosevelt. They understood his immense popularity,
and were afraid that the convention might be "stampeded" in his favor.

"If they once start to yell for Roosevelt, it will be good-by to
everybody else," said one old politician. "They are just crazy after the
leader of the Rough Riders."

But this man did not understand the stern moral honesty of the man under
consideration. Roosevelt believed in upholding William McKinley, and had
said so, and it was no more possible for him to seek the Presidential
nomination by an underhanded trick than it was for President McKinley to
do an equally base thing when he was asked to allow his name to be
mentioned at the time he had pledged himself to support John Sherman.[2]
Both men were of equal loyalty, and the word of each was as good as his

[Footnote 2: See "American Boys' Life of William McKinley," p. 191.]

It was Senator Foraker who put up President McKinley for nomination, and
the vigorous cheering at that time will never be forgotten. Fifteen
thousand throats yelled themselves hoarse, and then broke into the
ringing words and music of "The Union Forever!" in a manner that made
the very convention hall tremble. Then came cries for Roosevelt, "For
our own Teddy of the Rough Riders!" and, written speech in hand, he
arose amid that vast multitude to second the candidacy of William
McKinley. Not once did he look at the paper he held in his hand, but
with a force that could not be misunderstood he addressed the

"I rise to second the nomination of William McKinley, because with him
as a leader this people has trod the path of national greatness and
prosperity with the strides of a giant," said he, "and because under him
we can and will succeed in the election. Exactly as in the past we have
remedied the evils which we undertook to remedy, so now when we say that
a wrong shall be righted, it most assuredly will be righted.

"We stand on the threshold of a new century, a century big with the
fate of the great nations of the earth. It rests with us to decide now
whether in the opening years of that century we shall march forward to
fresh triumphs, or whether at the outset we shall deliberately cripple
ourselves for the contest."

His speech was the signal for another burst of applause, and when
finally Theodore Roosevelt was named as the candidate for
Vice-President, the crowd yelled until it could yell no longer, while
many sang "Yankee Doodle" and other more or less patriotic airs, keeping
time with canes and flag-sticks. When the vote was cast, only one
delegate failed to vote for Theodore Roosevelt, and that was Theodore
Roosevelt himself.

The platform of the party was largely a repetition of the platform of
four years before. Again the cry was for "sound money," and for the
continuance of President McKinley's policy in the Philippines.

The campaign which followed was truly a strenuous one--to use a favorite
word of the candidate. President McKinley decided not to make many
speeches, and thus the hard work previous to election day fell upon
Theodore Roosevelt.

He did not shirk the task. As with everything he undertook, he entered
into the campaign with vigor, resolved to deserve success even if he did
not win it.

"I will do my best in the interests of our party, and for the benefit of
the people at large," said Theodore Roosevelt. "No man can do more than

In the few short months between the time when he was nominated and when
the election was held, Governor Roosevelt travelled over 20,000 miles by
rail, visiting nearly 600 towns, and addressing, on a rough estimate,
fully 3,000,000 of people! In that time he delivered 673 speeches, some
of them half an hour and some an hour in length.

In his thousands of miles of travel the candidate for the
Vice-Presidency visited many States, particularly those lying between
New York and Colorado. At nearly every town he was greeted by an immense
crowd, all anxious to do the leader of the Rough Riders honor. In the
large cities great banquets were held, and he was shown much respect
and consideration. In many places those who had fought under him came to
see and listen to him, and these meetings were of especial pleasure.
Often he would see an old Rough Rider hanging back in the crowd, and
would call him to the front or do his best to reach the ex-soldier and
shake him by the hand.

One occurrence is worthy of special mention. The Democratic party had
nominated William Jennings Bryan as their candidate for President. There
was a great labor picnic and demonstration at Chicago, and both Governor
Roosevelt and Mr. Bryan were invited to speak.

"You had better not accept, governor," said some friends to Theodore
Roosevelt. "There may be trouble."

"I am not afraid," answered the former leader of the Rough Riders.

"But Mr. Bryan and yourself are to be there at practically the same

"That does not matter," said the governor. And he went to Chicago on
September 3, to attend the Labor Day celebrations. The picnic was held
at Electric Park, and in the presence of fifteen thousand people
Governor Roosevelt and Mr. Bryan "buried the hatchet" for the time
being, and spoke to those surrounding them on the dignity of labor and
the duties of the laboring man to better himself and his social
conditions. In that motley collection of people there were frequent
cries of "Hurrah for Teddy!" and "What's the matter with Bryan? He's all
right!" but there was no disturbance, and each speaker was listened to
with respectful attention from start to finish. It was without a doubt a
meeting to show true American liberty and free speech at its best.

But all of the stops on his tours were not so pleasant to Governor
Roosevelt. In every community there are those who are low-bred and bound
to make an exhibition of their baseness. At Waverly, New York, a stone
was flung at him through the car window, breaking the glass but missing
the candidate for whom it was intended. At once there was excitement.

"Are you hurt, Governor?" was the question asked.

"No," returned Theodore Roosevelt. And then he added, with a faint
smile, "It's only a bouquet, but I wish, after this, they wouldn't make
them quite so hard."

There was also a demonstration against the candidate at Haverstraw, New
York, which threatened for a while to break up an intended meeting. But
the worst rowdyism was encountered at Victor, a small town in Colorado,
near the well-known mining centre of Cripple Creek. Victor was full of
miners who wanted not "sound money," but "free silver," for free silver,
so styled, meant a great booming of silver mining.

"We don't want him here," said these miners. "We have heard enough about
him and his gold standard. He had better keep away, or he'll regret it."

When Theodore Roosevelt was told he might have trouble in the mining
camps, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I know these men," he said. "The most of them are as honest and
respectable as the citizens of New York. I am not afraid of the vicious
element. The better class are bound to see fair play."

The governor spoke at a place called Armory Hall, and the auditorium was
packed. He had just begun his speech when there was a wild yelling and
cat-calling, all calculated to drown him out. He waited for a minute,
and then, as the noise subsided, tried to go on once more, when a voice
cried out:--

"What about rotten beef?" referring to the beef furnished during the
Santiago campaign, which had, of course, come through a Republican
Commissary Department.

"I ate that beef," answered the governor, quickly. And then he added to
the fellow who had thus questioned him: "You will never get near enough
to be hit with a bullet, or within five miles of it." At this many burst
into applause, and the man, who was a coward at heart, sneaked from the
hall in a hurry. He was no soldier and had never suffered the hardships
of any campaign, and many hooted him as he deserved.

But the trouble was not yet over. Theodore Roosevelt finished his
address, and then started to leave the hall in company with a number of
his friends. On the way to the train a crowd of rowdies followed the
candidate's party, and threw all sorts of things at them. One man made a
personal attack on the governor and hit him on the chest with a stick.
He tried to leap away, but was knocked down by a personal friend of
Theodore Roosevelt.

"Down with the gold bugs!" was the cry, and the violence of the mob
increased. The friends of Governor Roosevelt rallied to his support, and
blows were given and taken freely. But with it all the candidate reached
his train in safety, and in a few minutes more had left the town far
behind. He was not much disturbed, and the very next day went on with
his speech-making as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The
better classes of citizens of Victor were much disturbed over the
happening, and they sent many regrets to Governor Roosevelt, assuring
him that such a demonstration would never again be permitted to occur.



But the campaign, sharp and bitter as it had been, was not yet at an
end. In New York City there followed a "Sound Money Parade," which was
perhaps the largest of its kind ever witnessed in the United States. It
was composed of all sorts and conditions of men, from bankers and
brokers of Wall Street to the humble factory and mill hands from up the
river and beyond. The parade took several hours to pass, and was
witnessed by crowds almost as great as had witnessed the Dewey

In New York City, as the time drew closer for the election, there was
every intimation that the contest would be an unusually "hot" one, and
that there would be much bribery and corruption. It was said by some
that police methods were very lax at that time, and that the saloons,
which ought to be closed on election day, would be almost if not quite
wide open.

[Illustration: _Photograph by Pach Bros., N.Y._


"We must have an honest election," said Governor Roosevelt. And without
loss of time he sent letters to Mayor Van Wyck, and to the sheriff and
the district attorney of the county of New York, calling their attention
to the facts in the case, and telling them that he would hold them
strictly responsible if they did not do their full duty. As a
consequence the election was far more orderly than it might otherwise
have been in the metropolitan district.

The results of the long contest were speedily known. McKinley and
Roosevelt had been elected by a large plurality, and both they and their
numerous friends and supporters were correspondingly happy. Great
parades were had in their honor, and it was predicted, and rightly, that
the prosperity which our country had enjoyed for several years in the
past would continue for many years to come.

During those days the United States had but one outside difficulty,
which was in China. There a certain set of people called the Boxers
arose in rebellion and threatened the lives of all foreigners, including
American citizens. An International Army was organized, including
American, English, French, German, Japanese, and other troops, and a
quick attack was made upon Tien-Tsin and Pekin, and the suffering
foreigners in China were rescued. In this campaign the American soldiers
did their full share of the work and added fresh laurels to the name of
Old Glory.

The tax upon the strength of the newly elected Vice-President had been
very great, and he was glad to surrender the duties of governor into the
hands of his successor. But as Vice-President, Theodore Roosevelt became
the presiding officer of the United States Senate, a position of equal
if not greater importance.

As President of the Senate it is said that Mr. Roosevelt was kind yet
firm, and ever on the alert to see that affairs ran smoothly. He
occupied the position only for one short winter session, and during that
time nothing came under discussion that was of prime importance,
although my young readers must remember that all the work accomplished
in our Senate is of more or less magnitude.

"He was very earnest in his work," says one who was in the Senate at
that time. "As was his usual habit, he took little for granted, but
usually started to investigate for himself. He knew the rules
thoroughly, and rarely made an error."

For a long time the newly elected Vice-President had been wanting to get
back to his favorite recreation, hunting. Despite the excitement of
political life, he could not overcome his fondness for his rifle and the
wilderness. He felt that an outing would do his system much good, and
accordingly arranged for a five weeks' hunting trip in northwestern

In this trip, which he has himself described in one of his admirable
hunting papers, he had with him two companions, Dr. Gerald Webb of
Colorado Springs, and Mr. Philip K. Stewart, an old friend who in former
years had been captain of the Yale base-ball team.

The party went as far as the railroad would carry them, and then started
for a settlement called Meeker, forty miles distant. The weather was
extremely cold, with the thermometer from ten to twenty degrees below
zero, but the journey to Meeker was made in safety, and here the hunters
met their guide, a well-known hunter of that region named Goff, and
started with him for his ranch, several miles away.

Theodore Roosevelt would have liked to bring down a bear on this trip,
but the grizzlies were all in winter quarters and sleeping soundly, so
the hunt was confined to bob-cats and cougars. The hunting began early,
for on the way to the ranch the hounds treed a bob-cat, commonly known
as a lynx, which was secured without much trouble, and a second bob-cat
was secured the next day.

The territory surrounding Goff's ranch, called the Keystone, was an
ideal one for hunting, with clumps of cottonwoods and pines scattered
here and there, and numerous cliffs and ravines, the hiding-places of
game unnumbered. The ranch home stood at the foot of several well-wooded
hills, a long, low, one-story affair, built of rough logs, but clean and
comfortable within.

The two days' ride in the nipping air had been a severe test of
endurance, and all were glad, when the ranch was reached, to "thaw out"
before the roaring fire, and sit down to the hot and hearty meal that
had been prepared in anticipation of their coming.

The hunters had some excellent hounds, trained especially for bob-cats
and cougars, animals that were never allowed to go after small game
under any circumstances. Theodore Roosevelt was much taken with them
from the start, and soon got to know each by name.

"In cougar hunting the success of the hunter depends absolutely upon his
hounds," says Mr. Roosevelt. And he described each hound with great
minuteness, showing that he allowed little to escape his trained eye
while on this tour.

On the day after the arrival at the ranch the party went out for its
first cougar, which, as my young readers perhaps know, is an animal
inhabiting certain wild parts of our West and Southwest. The beast grows
to a size of from six to nine feet in length, and weighs several hundred
pounds. It is variously known as a puma and panther, the latter name
sometimes being changed to "painter." When attacked, it is ofttimes
exceedingly savage, and on certain occasions has been known to kill a

In Colorado the cougar is hunted almost exclusively with the aid of
hounds, and this was the method adopted on the present occasion. With
the pen of a true sportsman, Mr. Roosevelt tells us how the hounds were
held back until a cougar trail less than thirty-six hours old was
struck. Then off went the pack along the cliffs and ravines, with the
hunters following on horseback. The trail led up the mountain side and
then across the valley opposite, and soon the hounds were out of sight.
Leading their steeds, the hunters went down the valley and followed the
dogs, to find they had separated among the bare spots beyond. But soon
came a welcome sound.

"The cougar's treed," announced the guide. And so it proved. But when
the hunters came closer, the cougar, an old female, leaped from the
tree, outdistanced the dogs, and leaped into another tree. Then, as the
party again came up, the beast took another leap and started to run
once more. But now the hounds were too quick, and in a trice they had
the cougar surrounded. Slipping in, Theodore Roosevelt ended the
struggles of the wild beast by a knife-thrust behind the shoulder.

The next day there was another hunt, and this had rather a tinge of
sadness to it. The dogs tracked a mother cougar, who occupied her den
with her three kittens. The hounds rushed into the hole, barking
furiously, and presently one came out with a dead kitten in his mouth.

"I had supposed a cougar would defend her young to the last," says Mr.
Roosevelt, "but such was not the case in this instance. For some minutes
she kept the dogs at bay, but gradually gave ground, leaving her three
kittens." The dogs killed the kittens without loss of time, and then
followed the cougar as she fled from the other end of her hole. But the
hounds were too quick for her, and soon had her on the ground. Theodore
Roosevelt rushed up, knife in one hand and rifle in the other. With the
firearm he struck the beast in the jaws, and then ended the struggle by
a knife-thrust straight into the heart.

To many this may seem a cruel sport, and in a certain sense it assuredly
is; but my young readers must remember that cougars and other wild
beasts are a menace to civilization in the far West, and they have been
shot down and killed at every available opportunity. More than this, as
I have already mentioned, Theodore Roosevelt is more than a mere hunter
delighting in bloodshed. He is a naturalist, and examines with care
everything brought down and reports upon it, so that his hunting trips
have added not a little to up-to-date natural history. The skulls of the
various animals killed on this trip were forwarded to the Biological
Survey, Department of Agriculture, Washington, and in return Mr.
Roosevelt received a letter, part of which stated:--

"Your series of skulls from Colorado is incomparably the largest, most
complete, and most valuable series ever brought together from any single
locality, and will be of inestimable value in determining the amount of
individual variation."



Theodore Roosevelt's companions of the hunt remained with him for
fourteen days, after which they departed, leaving him with Goff, the
ranchman and hunter already mentioned.

When the pair were alone, they visited Juniper Mountain, said to be a
great ground for cougars and bob-cats, and there hunted with great
success. All together the trip of five weeks' hunting netted fourteen
cougars, the largest of which was eight feet in length and weighed 227
pounds. Mr. Roosevelt also brought down five bob-cats, showing that he
was just as skilful with his rifle as ever.

The hero of San Juan Hill fairly loved the outdoor exercise of the hunt,
and spent three weeks in keen enjoyment after his companions had
departed. During this time it snowed heavily, so that the hunters were
often compelled to remain indoors. As luck would have it there were
other ranches in that vicinity, with owners that were hospitable, so
that they did not have to go into camp, as would otherwise have been the

On the last day of the hunt, Theodore Roosevelt was able to bring down
the largest cougar yet encountered. The hounds were on the trail of one
beast when they came across that of another and took it up with but
little warning.

"We're going to get a big one now," said Goff. "Just you wait and see."

"Well, if we do, it will be a good ending to my outing," responded
Theodore Roosevelt.

The cougar was at last located by the hounds in a large pinyon on the
side of a hill. It had run a long distance and was evidently out of
breath, but as the hunters drew closer, it leaped to the ground and
trotted away through the snow. Away went the hounds on the new trail of
the beast.

"He's game, and he'll get away if he can," said the guide.

At the top of another hill the cougar halted and one of the hounds
leaped in, and was immediately sent sprawling by a savage blow of the
wild animal's paw. Then on went the cougar as before, the hounds barking
wildly as they went in pursuit.

When Theodore Roosevelt came up once more, the cougar was in another
pinyon tree, with the hounds in a semicircle on the ground below.

"Now I think I've got him," whispered Theodore Roosevelt to his
companion, and advanced on foot, with great cautiousness. At first he
could see nothing, but at last made out the back and tail of the great
beast, as it lay crouched among the branches. With great care he took
aim and fired, and the cougar fell to the ground, shot through the back.

At once the hounds rushed in and seized the game. But the cougar was not
yet dead, and snapping and snarling the beast slipped over the ground
and down a hillside, with the dogs all around it. Theodore Roosevelt
came up behind, working his way through the brush with all speed. Then,
watching his chance, he jumped in, hunting-knife in hand, and despatched
the game.

"A good haul," cried Goff. And later on he and his men came to the
conclusion that it was the same cougar that had carried off a cow and a
steer and killed a work horse belonging to one of the ranches near by.

The five weeks spent in the far West strengthened Theodore Roosevelt a
great deal, and it was with renewed energy that he took up his duties as
Vice-President of our nation.

In the meantime, however, matters were not going on so well at home.
Among the children two had been very sick, and in the summer it was
suggested that some pure mountain air would do them a great deal of

"Very well, we'll go to the mountains," said Mr. Roosevelt, and looked
around to learn what place would be best to choose.

Among the Adirondack Mountains of New York State there is a reservation
of ninety-six thousand acres leased by what is called the Adirondack
Club, a wealthy organization of people who have numerous summer
cottages built within the preserve.

Among the members was a Mr. McNaughten, an old friend of the Roosevelt
family, and he suggested that they occupy his cottage until the close of
the season. This invitation was accepted, and the whole Roosevelt family
moved up to the spot, which was located at the foot of Mount Marcy, the
largest of the mountains in that vicinity. Here Mr. Roosevelt spent much
time in hunting and fishing, and also in writing. The family were not
forgotten, and he frequently went out with the whole party, rowing and
exploring. Sometimes they took baskets of lunch with them and had
regular picnics in the woods, something the Roosevelt children enjoyed
very much.

In the meantime the Pan-American Exposition at Buffalo, New York, had
been opened, and day after day it was thronged with visitors.
Vice-President Roosevelt had assisted at the opening, and he was one of
many who hoped the Exposition would be a great success.

At the Exposition our government had a large exhibit, and it was thought
highly proper that President McKinley should visit the ground in his
official capacity and deliver an address. Preparations were accordingly
made, and the address was delivered on September 5 to a most
enthusiastic throng.[3]

[Footnote 3: For this speech in full, and for what happened after it was
delivered, see "American Boys' Life of McKinley."]

On the following day the President was driven to the Temple of Music, on
the Exposition grounds, there to hold a public reception. The crowds
were as great as ever, but perfectly orderly, and filed in at one side
of the building and out at the other, each person in turn being
permitted to grasp the Chief Magistrate's hand.

For a while all went well, and nobody noticed anything unusual about a
somewhat weak-faced individual who joined the crowd, and who had one
hand covered with a handkerchief. As this rascal came up to shake hands,
he raised the hand with the handkerchief and, using a concealed pistol,
fired two shots at President McKinley.

For an instant everybody was dazed. Then followed a commotion, and while
some went to the wounded Executive's assistance, others leaped upon the
dastardly assassin and made him a prisoner.

There was an excellent hospital upon the Exposition grounds, and to this
President McKinley was carried. Here it was found that both bullets had
entered his body, one having struck the breastbone and the other having
entered the abdomen. The physicians present did all they possibly could
for him, and then he was removed to the residence of Mr. Millburn, the
President of the Exposition.

In the meantime, all unconscious of the awful happening that was to have
such an influence upon his future, Mr. Roosevelt had been enjoying
himself with his family, and helping to take care of the children that
were not yet totally recovered from their illness. All seemed to be
progressing finely, and he had gone off on a little tour to Vermont, to
visit some points of interest and deliver a few addresses.

He was at Isle La Motte, not far from Burlington, when the news reached
him that President McKinley had been shot. He had just finished an
address, and for the moment he could not believe the sad news.

"Shot!" he said. "How dreadful!" And could scarcely say another word. He
asked for the latest bulletin, and, forgetful of all else, took the
first train he could get to Buffalo, and then hastened to the side of
his Chief.

It was truly a sad meeting. For many years these two men had known each
other, and they were warm friends. Their methods were somewhat
different, but each stood for what was just and right and true, and each
was ready to give his country his best service, no matter what the cost.

It was a sad time for the whole nation, and men and women watched the
bulletins eagerly, hoping and praying that President McKinley might
recover. Every hour there was some slight change, and people would talk
it over in a whisper.

In a few days there were hopeful signs, and the physicians, deceived by
them, said they thought the President would recover. This was glad news
to Theodore Roosevelt. Yet he lingered on, fearful to go away, lest the
news should prove untrue and he should be needed. But then there was a
still brighter turn, and he thought of his own family, and of the fact
that one of his children was again ill.

"I will return to my family," said he to two of his closest friends.
"But if I am needed here, let me know at once." And his friends promised
to keep him informed. Two days later he was back among the Adirondacks,
in the bosom of his family.

The prayers of a whole nation were in vain. William McKinley's mission
on earth was finished, and one week after he was shot he breathed his
last. His wife came to bid him farewell, and so did his other relatives,
and his friend of many years, Mark Hanna, and the members of his

"It is God's way," murmured the dying Executive. "His will be done, not
ours." Then like a child going to sleep, he relapsed into
unconsciousness, from which he did not recover. He died September 14,
1901, at a little after two o'clock in the morning.

It was the last of a truly great life. Illustrious men may come and go,
but William McKinley will be remembered so long as our nation endures.
As a soldier and a statesman he gave his best talents to better the
conditions of his fellow-creatures, and to place the United States where
we justly belong, among the truly great nations of the world.



With a somewhat lighter heart, Theodore Roosevelt returned to the
Adirondacks and joined his family on Wednesday, three days previous to
President McKinley's death. The last report he had received from Buffalo
was the most encouraging of any, and he now felt almost certain that the
President would survive the outrageous attack that had been made upon
his person.

"He will get well," said several who lived close by. "You need not worry
about his condition any longer."

On the following day it was planned to go up to Colton Lake, five miles
from where the family was stopping. Some friends went along, and in the
party were Mrs. Roosevelt and several of the children. Two guides
accompanied them, and it was decided to spend the night at a camp on
the lake, returning home the following day.

The next morning it rained, but in spite of this drawback Theodore
Roosevelt, leaving the ladies and children to return to the cottage,
started to climb Mount Marcy. Such an undertaking was exactly to his
liking, and he went up the rough and uneven trail with the vigor of a
trained woodsman, the guide leading the way and the other gentlemen of
the party following.

At last, high up on the side of Mount Marcy, the party reached a small
body of water known as Tear of the Clouds, and here they rested for

"You are certainly a great walker, Mr. Roosevelt," remarked one of the
gentlemen during the progress of the lunch.

"Oh, I have to be," answered Theodore Roosevelt, jokingly. "A
Vice-President needs exercise to keep him alive. You see, when he is in
the Senate, all of his work is done sitting down."

The words had scarcely been uttered when one of the party pointed to a
man climbing up the mountain side toward them. The newcomer held some
yellow telegram-slips in his hand, and Theodore Roosevelt quickly arose
to receive them.

He had soon mastered the contents of the messages. President McKinley
was much worse; it was likely that he would not live. For fully a minute
Mr. Roosevelt did not speak. He realized the great responsibility which
rested upon his shoulders. Then, in a voice filled with emotion, he read
the messages aloud.

"Gentlemen," he continued, "I must return to the club-house at once."
And without waiting, he turned and started down the mountain side along
the trail by which he had come.

It was a long, hard walk, but it is doubtful if Theodore Roosevelt took
note of it. A thousand thoughts must have flashed through his mind. If
William McKinley should indeed breathe his last, the nation would look
to him as their Chief Magistrate. He could not make himself believe that
his President was to die.

It was not long before Theodore Roosevelt reached the club-house at the
lake. He asked for further news, but none was forthcoming.

"We will send to the lower club-house at once," said his friends. "You
had better take a short rest, in case you have a sudden call to make the
trip to Buffalo."

A misty rain was falling, and the atmosphere of the mountains was raw
and penetrating. Messengers were quickly despatched to the lower
club-house, and by eleven o'clock that evening news came back that left
no doubt of the true condition of affairs. President McKinley was
sinking rapidly, and his death was now only a question of a few hours.

"I must go, and at once," said Theodore Roosevelt. And soon a light
wagon drove up to the club-house, and he leaped in. There was a short
good-by to his family and his friends, the whip cracked, and the drive
of thirty-five miles to the nearest railroad station was begun.

It was a never-to-be-forgotten journey. For ten miles or more the road
was fearfully rough and ran around the edges of overhanging cliffs,
where a false turn might mean death. Then at times the road went down
into deep hollows and over rocky hills. All was pitch black, save for
the tiny yellow light hanging over the dashboard of the turnout.
Crouched on the seat, Mr. Roosevelt urged the driver to go on, and go on
they did, making better time during that rain and darkness than had
before been made in broad daylight.

At last a place called Hunter's was reached, and Theodore Roosevelt

"What news have you for me?" he asked of a waiting messenger, and the
latest message was handed to him. There was no new hope,--President
McKinley was sinking faster than ever. New horses were obtained, and the
second part of the journey, from Hunter's to Aiden Lair, was begun.

And during that wild, swift ride of nine miles, when it seemed to
Theodore Roosevelt as if he were racing against death, the angel of Life
Everlasting claimed William McKinley, and the man crouched in the wagon,
wet from the rain, hurrying to reach him, became the next President of
the United States.

It was a little after three in the morning when Aiden Lair was reached.
The sufferer at Buffalo had breathed his last, but Theodore Roosevelt
did not know it, and he still hoped for the best. More fresh horses,
and now the last sixteen miles of the rough journey were made on a
buckboard. In spots the road was worse than it had previously been, and
the driver was tempted to go slow.

"Go on!" cried Mr. Roosevelt, and held his watch in hand. "Go on!" And
the driver obeyed, the buckboard dancing up and down over the rocks and
swinging dangerously from side to side around the curves of ravines. But
Theodore Roosevelt's mind was not on the road nor on the peril of that
ride, but in that room in Buffalo where the great tragedy had just seen
its completion.

At last, a little after five in the morning, the turnout came in sight
of the railroad station at North Creek. A special train was in waiting
for him. He gazed anxiously at the little knot of people assembled.
Their very faces told him the sorrowful truth. President McKinley was

With bowed head he entered a private car of the special train, and
without delay the train started on its journey southward for Albany. No
time was lost on this portion of the trip, and at seven o'clock
Theodore Roosevelt reached the city in which but a short time before he
had presided as Governor of the State.

At Albany he was met by Secretary of State Hay, who informed him
officially that President McKinley was no more. He likewise informed the
Vice-President that, considering the excitement, it might be best that
Mr. Roosevelt be sworn in as President without delay.

Another special train was in waiting at Albany, and this was rushed
westward with all possible speed, arriving in Buffalo at half-past one
in the afternoon. In order to avoid the tremendous crowd at the Union
railroad station, Mr. Roosevelt alighted at the Terrace station. Here he
was met by several friends with a carriage and also a detachment of the
Fourth Signal Corps and a squad of mounted police.

Without loss of time Theodore Roosevelt was driven to the Millburn
house. Here he found a great many friends and relatives of the dead
President assembled. All were too shocked over what had occurred to say
much, and shook the hand of the coming President in silence.

Thousands of eyes were upon Theodore Roosevelt, but he noticed them not.
Entering the Millburn house, he thought only of the one who had
surrendered his life while doing his duty, and of that kind and patient
woman now left to fight the battles of this world alone. He offered what
consolation he could to Mrs. McKinley, heard the little that had not yet
been told of that final struggle to fight off death, and then took his
departure, to assume the high office thus suddenly and unexpectedly
thrust upon him.



The new President took the oath of office at the residence of Mr. Ansley
Wilcox in Buffalo. It is a fine, substantial mansion and has ever since
been of historic interest to sight-seers.

When he arrived at the Wilcox home, he found a number of members of the
McKinley Cabinet awaiting him, as well as Judge John R. Hazel, of the
United States District Court, who administered the oath; and ten or a
dozen others.

The scene was truly an affecting one. Secretary Root could scarcely
control himself, for, twenty years before, he had been at a similar
scene, when Vice-President Arthur became Chief Magistrate, after the
assassination of President Garfield. In a voice filled with emotion he
requested Vice-President Roosevelt, on behalf of the Cabinet as a
whole, to take the prescribed oath.

It is recorded by an eye-witness that Theodore Roosevelt was pale, and
that his eyes were dim with tears, as he stepped forward to do as
bidden. His hand was uplifted, and then in a solemn voice the judge
began the oath:--

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of
President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability,
preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."

The words were repeated in a low but distinct voice by Theodore
Roosevelt, and a moment of utter silence followed.

"Mr. President, please attach your signature," went on the judge. And in
a firm hand the new Chief Executive wrote "Theodore Roosevelt" at the
bottom of the all-important document which made him the President of our
beloved country.

Standing in that room, the President felt the great responsibility which
now rested on his shoulders, and turning to those before him, he spoke
as follows:--

"In this hour of deep and terrible bereavement, I wish to state that it
shall be my aim to continue absolutely unbroken the policy of President
McKinley for the peace and prosperity and honor of our country."

These were no mere words, as his actions immediately afterward prove. On
reaching Washington he assembled the Cabinet at the home of Commander
Cowles, his brother-in-law, and there spoke to them somewhat in this

"I wish to make it clear to you, gentlemen, that what I said at Buffalo
I meant. I want each of you to remain as a member of my Cabinet. I need
your advice and counsel. I tender you the office in the same manner that
I would tender it if I were entering upon the discharge of my duties as
the result of an election by the people." Having thus declared himself,
the newly made President asked each member personally to stay with him.
It was a sincere request, and the Cabinet members all agreed to remain
by Mr. Roosevelt and aid him exactly as they had been aiding Mr.
McKinley. Thus was it shown to the world at large, and especially to the
anarchists, of which the assassin of McKinley had been one, that though
the President might be slain, the government still lived.

The entire country was prostrate over the sudden death of President
McKinley, and one of the first acts of Theodore Roosevelt, after
assuming the responsibilities of his office, was to issue the following

"A terrible bereavement has befallen our people. The President of the
United States has been struck down; a crime committed not only against
the Chief Magistrate, but against every law-abiding and liberty-loving

"President McKinley crowned a life of largest love for his fellow-men,
of most earnest endeavor for their welfare, by a death of Christian
fortitude; and both the way in which he lived his life and the way in
which, in the supreme hour of trial, he met his death, will remain
forever a precious heritage of our people.

"It is meet that we, as a nation, express our abiding love and reverence
for his life, our deep sorrow for his untimely death.

"Now, therefore, I, Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States,
do appoint Thursday next, September 19, the day in which the body of the
dead President will be laid in its last earthly resting-place, a day of
mourning and prayer throughout the United States.

"I earnestly recommend all the people to assemble on that day in their
respective places of divine worship, there to bow down in submission to
the will of Almighty God, and to pay out of full hearts their homage of
love and reverence to the great and good President whose death has
smitten the nation with bitter grief."

The funeral of President McKinley was a most imposing one. The body was
at first laid in state in the City Hall at Buffalo, where President
Roosevelt and fully a hundred and fifty thousand men, women, and
children went to view the remains. From Buffalo the remains were taken
by special funeral train to Washington, and there placed in the Rotunda
of the Capitol. Here the crowd was equally great, and here the services
were attended by representatives from almost every civilized nation on
the globe. Outside a marine band was stationed, playing the dead
President's favorite hymns, "Lead, Kindly Light" and "Nearer, my God, to
Thee," and in the singing of these thousands of mourners joined, while
the tears of sorrow streamed down their faces.

From Washington the body of the martyred President was taken to Canton,
Ohio, where had been his private home. Here his friends and neighbors
assembled to do him final honor, and great arches of green branches and
flowers were erected, under which the funeral cortege passed. As the
body was placed in the receiving vault, business throughout the entire
United States was suspended. In spirit, eighty millions of people were
surrounding the mortal clay left by the passing of a soul to the place
whence it had come. It was truly a funeral of which the greatest of
kings might well be proud.

The taking-off of President McKinley undoubtedly had a great effect upon
President Roosevelt. During the Presidential campaign the
Vice-Presidential nominee had made many speeches in behalf of his fellow
candidate, showing the high personal character of McKinley, and what
might be expected from the man in case he was elected once more to the
office of Chief Magistrate. More than this, when Assistant Secretary of
the Navy, Mr. Roosevelt had done his best to carry out the plans
formulated by the President. The two were close friends, and in the one
brief session of the Senate when he was Vice-President, Mr. Roosevelt
gave to President McKinley many evidences of his high regard.

On returning to Washington, President Roosevelt did not at once take up
his residence at the White House, preferring that the place should be
left to Mrs. McKinley until she had sufficiently recovered from her
terrible shock to arrange for the removal of the family's personal

As it may interest some of my young readers to know how President
Roosevelt's first day as an active President was spent, I append the
following, taken down at the time by a reporter for a press

"Reached the White House from Canton, on September 20, 1901, at 9.40
A.M. Went at once to the private office formerly occupied by President
McKinley, and, as speedily as possible, settled down for the business
of the day.

"Met Secretary Long of the navy in the cabinet room and held a
discussion concerning naval matters; received Colonel Sanger to talk
over some army appointments; signed appointments of General J. M. Bell
and others; met Senators Cullom and Proctor.

"At 11 A.M. called for the first time formal meeting of the Cabinet and
transacted business of that body until 12.30 P.M.

"Received his old friend, General Wood, and held conference with him and
with Secretary Root in regard to Cuban election laws.

"President Roosevelt left the White House at 1.20 P.M. to take lunch
with Secretary Hay at the latter's residence. He was alone, disregarding
the services of a body-guard.

"Returned to the White House at 3.30 P.M. and transacted business with
some officials and received a few personal friends.

"Engaged with Secretary Cortelyou from 4 P.M. to 6.30 P.M. in the
transaction of public business, disposal of mail, etc.

"Left the White House unattended at 6.30 P.M. and walked through the
semi-dark streets of Washington to 1733 N Street, N.W., the residence of
his brother-in-law, Commander Cowles. Dined in private with the family.

"Late in the evening received a few close friends. Retired at 11 P.M."

It will be observed that special mention is made of the fact that
President Roosevelt travelled around alone. Immediately after the
terrible tragedy at Buffalo many citizens were of the opinion that the
Chief Magistrate of our nation ought to be strongly protected, for fear
of further violence, but to this Theodore Roosevelt would not listen.

"I am not afraid," he said calmly. "We are living in a peaceful country,
and the great mass of our people are orderly, law-abiding citizens. I
can trust them, and take care of myself." And to this he held, despite
the protestations of his closest friends. Of course he is scarcely ever
without some guard or secret service detective close at hand, but no
outward display of such protection is permitted. And let it be added to
the credit of our people that, though a few cranks and crazy persons
have caused him a little annoyance, he has never, up to the present
time, been molested in any way.



President Roosevelt had said he would continue the policy inaugurated by
President McKinley, and one of the important steps in this direction was
to appoint many to office who had been expecting appointment at the
hands of the martyred President. This gained him many friends, and soon
some who had kept themselves at a distance flocked around, to aid him in
every possible manner.

Late in September the last of the McKinley effects were taken from the
White House, and some days later the newly made President moved in, with
his family, who had come down from the Adirondacks some time previous.
In Washington the family were joined by Mr. Roosevelt's two
brothers-in-law, Commander Wm. Sheffield Cowles and Mr. Douglas
Robinson, and their wives, and the relatives remained together for some

It was at first feared by some politicians that President Roosevelt
would be what is termed a "sectional President,"--that is, that he would
favor one section of our country to the exclusion of the others, but he
soon proved that he was altogether too noble for such baseness.

"I am going to be President of the whole United States," he said. "I
don't care for sections or sectional lines. I was born in the North, but
my mother was from the South, and I have spent much of my time in the
West, so I think I can fairly represent the whole country."

President Roosevelt sympathized deeply with the condition of the negroes
in the South, and for the purpose of learning the true state of affairs
sent for Mr. Booker T. Washington, one of the foremost colored men of
this country and founder of the Tuskegee Industrial School for Colored
People. They had a long conference at the White House, which Mr.
Washington enjoyed very much. For this action many criticised the
President severely, but to this he paid no attention, satisfied that he
had done his duty as his conscience dictated.


President Roosevelt's first message to Congress was awaited with
considerable interest. It was remembered that he was the youngest
Executive our White House had ever known, and many were curious to know
what he would say and what he proposed to do.

The Fifty-seventh Congress of the United States assembled at Washington,
December 2, 1901, and on the day following, President Roosevelt's first
annual message was read in both Senate and House of Representatives.

It proved to be a surprisingly long and strong state paper, and by many
was considered one of the best messages sent to Congress in many years.
It touched upon general conditions in our country, spoke for
improvements in the army and the navy, called for closer attention to
civil service reform, for a correction of the faults in the post-office
system, and for a clean administration in the Philippines, Hawaii, and
Porto Rico. It spoke of several great needs of the government, and added
that the Gold Standard Act had been found timely and judicious.

"President Roosevelt is all right," was the general comment, after the
message had been printed in the various papers of our country. "He is
looking ahead, and he knows exactly what this country wants and needs.
We are prosperous now, and if we want to continue so, we must keep our
hands on the plough, and not look backward."

The first break in the old Cabinet occurred on December 17, when
Postmaster General Charles E. Smith resigned. His place was immediately
filled by the appointment of Henry C. Payne, of Wisconsin. Soon after
this Secretary Gage of the Treasury resigned, and his place was filled
by former governor Leslie M. Shaw, of Iowa.

For a long time there had been before the American people various
suggestions to build a canal across Central America, to join the
Atlantic and the Pacific oceans, so that the ships wanting to go from
one body of water to the other would not have to take the long and
expensive trip around Cape Horn.

In years gone by the French had also contemplated such a canal, and had
even gone to work at the Isthmus of Panama, making an elaborate survey
and doing not a little digging. But the work was beyond them, and the
French Canal Company soon ran out of funds and went into the hands of a

"We ought to take hold and dig a canal," was heard on all sides in the
United States. But where to dig the canal was a question. Some said the
Isthmus of Panama was the best place, while others preferred a route
through Nicaragua. The discussion waxed very warm, and at last a
Commission was appointed to go over both routes and find out which would
be the more satisfactory from every point of view.

The Commission was not very long in reaching a decision. The Panama
Canal Company was willing to sell out all its interest in the work
already done for forty millions of dollars, and it was recommended that
the United States accept this offer. President Roosevelt received the
report, and lost no time in submitting it to Congress.

At the beginning of the new year, 1902, there was a grand ball at the
White House, attended by a large gathering of people, including many of
the foreign representatives accredited to Washington. The occasion was
the introduction into society of Miss Alice Roosevelt, and the affair
was a most pleasing one from beginning to end.

One of the President's sons, Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., had been sent to a
boarding school at Groton, Massachusetts. Early in February he was taken
down with a cold that developed into pneumonia. It looked as if the
youth might die, and both Mrs. Roosevelt and the President lost no time
in leaving Washington and going to his bedside. The sympathy of the
whole country was with the anxious parents, and when it was announced
that the crisis had been passed in safety there was much relief in all

Before this illness occurred there came to the Roosevelts an invitation
which pleased them, and especially Miss Alice, not a little. The German
Emperor William was having a yacht built in this country, at Shooter's
Island. He sent his brother, Prince Henry of Prussia, over to attend the
launching, and requested Miss Roosevelt to christen the yacht, which
was to be called the _Meteor_.

The arrival of Prince Henry was made a gala day by many who wished to
see the friendship between the United States and Germany more firmly
cemented than ever, and the royal visitor was treated with every
consideration wherever he went. From New York he journeyed to
Washington, where he dined with the President. He returned to New York
with President Roosevelt and with Miss Roosevelt, and on February 25 the
launching occurred, in the presence of thousands of people and a great
many craft of all sorts. Miss Roosevelt performed the christening in
appropriate style, and this was followed by music from a band and the
blowing of hundreds of steam whistles. After these ceremonies were over,
there followed an elaborate dinner given by the mayor of New York, and
then the Prince started on a tour of the country lasting two weeks. His
visit made a good impression wherever he went, and he was universally
put down as a right good fellow.

It was about this time that President Roosevelt showed he was not to be
led altogether by what his party did. So far he had not vetoed any
measures sent to him for his signature. Now, however, a bill came to him
touching the desertion of a sailor in the navy. Congress was willing to
strike the black record of the sailor from the books, but President
Roosevelt would not have it.

"The sailor did wrong," he said. "He knew what he was doing, too. The
record against him must stand." And he vetoed the bill. On the other
hand he was prompt to recognize real worth in those who had served the
government, and when over two hundred private pension bills came before
him for his approval, he signed them without a murmur.

The people of Charleston, South Carolina, had been arranging for a long
time to hold an exposition which should set forth the real advance and
worth of the leading southern industries. This exposition was now open
to the public, and President Roosevelt and his wife were invited to
attend the exhibit. With so much southern blood in his veins, the
President could not think of refusing, and he and Mrs. Roosevelt
visited the exposition early in April.

It was a gala day at Charleston, and the President and Mrs. Roosevelt
were received with every honor due their rank, and with great personal
consideration. Governor McSweeney of the state was assisted by Governor
Aycock, of North Carolina, in receiving President Roosevelt.

A stirring patriotic speech was made by the President during his visit,
and a feature of the trip was the presentation of a sword to Major Micah
Jenkins of the Rough Riders. A great number of President Roosevelt's
former troopers were present, and all were glad, as of old, to crowd
around and take him by the hand.



During the summer of 1902 two matters of great importance occurred in
which the whole people of our nation were deeply interested.

Early in May occurred tremendous volcanic eruptions on the islands of
Martinique and St. Vincent. At the former island, Mont Pelee threw such
a rain of fire upon the town of St. Pierre that the entire place, with
about thirty thousand people, was wiped out of existence in a minute. At
other points the eruptions were not so bad, yet hundreds lost their
lives, and all of the islands of the Lesser Antilles were thrown into a
state bordering upon panic.

It was felt that something must be done, and at once, for the sufferers,
and a large fund for relief was gathered, of which the Americans
contributed their full share. The volcanic disturbances continued for
some time, and as it was thought they might also cover certain portions
of Central America, nothing was done further concerning a canal to unite
the two oceans.

The other event of importance was the strike of thousands upon thousands
of coal-miners, working in Pennsylvania and other states. The miners did
not think they were being treated rightly and went out in a body, and
for many weeks not a pound of coal of any kind was mined. This produced
a double hardship, for people could get no coal either for the fall or
winter, and the miners were, in some cases, reduced almost to the verge
of starvation. Neither the workmen nor the operators of the mines would
give in, and soon there was more or less violence, and some soldiers had
to be called out in an effort to preserve order.

As matters went from bad to worse, and it looked as if the entire
eastern section of our country would have to go without coal for the
winter, there were loud demands that the government take hold of the
difficulty and settle the matter, if not in one way, then in another.

At last, early in October, the whole country was aroused, for it was
felt that with no coal a winter of untold suffering stared the people in
the face. President Roosevelt held a conference at Washington with the
mine operators and the representatives of the miners.

"We must get together, gentlemen," said he. "The country cannot do
without coal, and you must supply it to us." And he laid down the law in
a manner not to be misunderstood.

Another conference followed, and then a third, and at last the coal
operators asked the President to appoint a Commission to decide upon the
points in dispute. To this the representative of the mine workers
agreed, and as a result a Commission was appointed by President
Roosevelt, which was to settle all points in dispute, and by its
decision each side was to abide. In the meantime, while the Commission
was at work, the mine workers were to resume their labors. The mines
were thereupon once more put in operation, after a strike lasting over
five months. This is the greatest coal strike known in American history,
and it is not likely that the people at large will ever again permit
themselves to suffer for the want of coal as they did during that fall
and the winter which followed.

Early in June occurred the centennial celebration of the founding of the
United States Military Academy at West Point. The occasion was made one
of great interest, and among the many distinguished visitors were
President Roosevelt and General Miles, head of our army at that time.
The President reviewed the cadets and made a speech to them,
complimenting them on their truly excellent showing as soldiers.

Although very busy with matters of state, President Roosevelt received
an urgent call to deliver a Fourth of July oration at Pittsburg. He
consented, and spoke to a vast assemblage on the rights and duties of
American citizens.

To remain in Washington during the hot summer months was out of the
question with President Roosevelt and his family, and early in the
season he removed to Oyster Bay, there to enjoy himself as best he might
during the short time allowed him for recreation.

That the business of the administration might not be too seriously
interrupted, he hired a few rooms over a bank building in the village of
Oyster Bay, and these were fitted up for himself and his several
secretaries and assistants. To the bank building he rode or drove every
day, spending an hour or more over the routine work required. By this
means undesirable visitors were kept away from his private residence,
and he was permitted to enjoy himself as he pleased in company with his

While Mr. Roosevelt was summering at Oyster Bay, it was arranged that he
should make a short tour through New England, to last from August 22 to
September 3. The trip covered every New England State, and was one of
great pleasure to the President until the last day. Everywhere he went
he was greeted by enthusiastic crowds, and, of course, had to make one
of his characteristic speeches, accompanied by a great deal of

On the last day of the trip he was at Dalton, Massachusetts, the home of
Governor Crane. It had been planned to drive from Dalton to Lenox, a
beautiful spot, adjoining Laurel Lake, where are located the summer
homes of many American millionnaires.

The trip was begun without a thought of what was to follow. In the
party, besides President Roosevelt, were Governor Crane, Secretary
Cortelyou (afterward made a member of the Cabinet), United States Secret
Service officer William Craig, and the driver of the carriage. It may be
mentioned here that William Craig was detailed as a special guard for
the President, and had been with him since the tour was begun.

There are a number of trolley lines in this section of Massachusetts,
all centring in Pittsfield. As the mass of the people were very anxious
to see President Roosevelt, the trolleys going to the points where he
would pass were crowded, and the cars were run with more than usual

As the carriage containing the President and his companions attempted to
cross the trolley tracks a car came bounding along at a rapid rate of
speed. There seemed to be no time in which to stop the car, and in an
instant the long and heavy affair crashed into the carriage with all
force, hurling the occupants to the street in all directions. The Secret
Service officer, William Craig, was instantly killed, and the driver of
the carriage was seriously hurt.

There was immediate and great excitement, and for the time being it was
feared that President Roosevelt had been seriously injured. He had been
struck a sharp blow on the leg, and had fallen on his face, cutting it
not a little. The shock was a severe one, but in a little while he was
himself once more, although his face was much swollen. Later still a
small abscess formed on the injured limb, but this was skilfully treated
by his physician, and soon disappeared. The others in the carriage
escaped with but a few bruises and a general shaking-up.

The result of this accident, small as it was to the President
personally, showed well how firmly he was seated in the affection of his
fellow-citizens. From all over the country, as well as from his friends
in foreign climes, telegrams of congratulation came pouring in.
Everybody was glad that he had escaped, and everybody wished to show how
he felt over the affair.

"President Roosevelt was much affected by the messages received," said
one who was in a position to know. "It showed him that his friends were
in every walk of life, from the highest to the lowest. Had he met death,
as did the Secret Service officer detailed to guard over him, the shock
to the people, coming so soon after the assassination of President
McKinley, would have been tremendous."

The President had already been persuaded to consent to a short trip to
the South, from September 5 to 10, and then a trip to the West, lasting
until September 19, or longer. The trips came to an end on September 23,
in Indiana, because of the abscess on the lower limb already mentioned,
yet on November 19 he was given a grand reception by the people of
Memphis, Tennessee, who flocked around him and were glad to see him as
well as ever.

"We are so glad you escaped from that trolley accident!" was heard a
hundred times.

"We can't afford to lose you, Mr. President," said others. "Really good
men are too scarce." And then a cheer would go up for "The hero of San
Juan Hill!"

His speeches on these trips were largely about the trusts and monopolies
that are trying to control various industries of our country. It is an
intricate subject, yet it can be said that Mr. Roosevelt understands it
as well as any one, and is laboring hard to do what is right and best,
both for the consumer and the capitalist.

Congress had, some time before, voted a large sum for the extension and
improvement of the White House, and while Mr. Roosevelt and his family
were at Oyster Bay these improvements were begun. They continued during
the fall, and the President made his temporary home at a private
residence in the capital city. Here it was he was treated for his
wounded limb, and here he ended the coal strike, as already chronicled.



The end of the year found President Roosevelt in the best of health,
despite the accident some weeks previous. The improvements at the White
House were now complete, and the family of the Chief Magistrate took
possession. A separate set of offices for the President and his Cabinet
had been built at the western end of the executive mansion, and the
rooms formerly used for this purpose were turned into living apartments.
The changes made have been approved by many who have seen them, and they
have wondered why the alterations were not made a long time ago.

On December 1, Congress assembled for a new session, and on the day
following the President's message was read. It was a masterly state
paper, dealing with the trust question, our relations with the new
government of Cuba (for the island was now free, just as we had meant it
to be when the war with Spain started), the creation of a new department
of Commerce and Labor, needs of the army and navy, and the all-important
matter of how the Philippines should be governed. It may be added here
that not long after this a Department of Commerce and Labor was created
by Congress, and Mr. George B. Cortelyou, the secretary to the
President, became its first official head. When Mr. Cortelyou left his
post as secretary, Mr. William Loeb, Jr., who had been the President's
private secretary for some time, became the regular first secretary to
the Chief Magistrate, a place he occupies to-day.

Just about this time there was considerable trouble in Indianola,
Mississippi. A colored young lady had been appointed postmistress, and
the people in that vicinity refused to recognize her. The Post-Office
Department did what it could in the matter, and then referred the case
to the President.


"As she has been regularly appointed, the people will have to accept
her," said Mr. Roosevelt. And when there was more trouble, he sent
forward an order that the post-office be shut up entirely. This was
done, and for a long time the people of that vicinity had to get their
mail elsewhere, a great inconvenience to them.

On January 1, 1903, the new cable to the Hawaiian Islands was completed,
and President Roosevelt received a message from Governor Dole, and sent
a reply to the same. About two weeks later the President sent a
wireless, or rather cableless, message to King Edward of England. This
helped to mark the beginning of a new era in message-sending which may
cause great changes in the transmission of messages in the future.

For some time past there had been a small-sized war going on in
Venezuela, South America, between that nation on one hand and England,
Germany, and Italy on the other. This war had caused much disturbance to
American trade. Pressure was brought to bear upon the several nations
through President Roosevelt, and at last it was agreed to leave matters
to be settled by arbitration at The Hague. The agreements to this end
were signed at Washington, much to the President's satisfaction. All
trouble then ceased, and American commerce was resumed as before.

For many years there had been a dispute between the United States and
Canada, regarding a certain boundary line. This country claimed a long
strip of territory next to the sea, near the seaports of Dyea and
Skagway, and Canada claimed that this strip, about thirty miles in
width, belonged to her domain.

There had been endless disputes about the claim, and considerable local
trouble, especially during the rush to the Klondike after gold.

Many Americans contended that we had absolute right to the territory,
and when arbitration was spoken of, said we had nothing to arbitrate.
This was, in the main, President Roosevelt's view of the matter, yet, as
things grew more disturbed, he realized, as a good business man, that
something must be done. We did not wish to fight Canada and England for
the strip of land, and neither did they wish to fight, so at last a
Board of Arbitration was agreed upon, and the claims of both parties
were carefully investigated. In the end nearly every point claimed by
the United States was granted to us. It was a great satisfaction to have
this long-standing dispute settled; and how much better it was to do it
by arbitration than by going to war.

The regular session of Congress came to an end on March 4, 1903, but
President Roosevelt had already called an extra session, to consider a
bill for reciprocity in our dealing with the new government of Cuba and
to ratify a treaty with Colombia concerning the Panama Canal.

There was a great deal of debating at this session of Congress. The bill
concerning Cuba caused but little trouble, but many wanted the canal
placed in Nicaragua instead of Panama, and did not wish to pay the forty
millions of dollars asked for the work already accomplished by the old
French Canal Company. But in the end the bill passed the United States
Senate by a vote of seventy-three to five, with the proviso that should
we fail to make a satisfactory arrangement about the Panama Canal, then
the government should build the canal through Nicaragua. President
Roosevelt was enthusiastic over a canal at the isthmus, and lost no time
in arranging to push the work further.

The people of the far West were very anxious to meet the chief ruler of
our nation, and early in the year it was arranged that President
Roosevelt should leave Washington on April 1 for a tour to last until
June. In that time he was to visit more than twenty States, and make
over one hundred stops. The people in the West awaited his coming with
much pleasure.

The President was justly entitled to this outing, for the nation was now
at peace with the entire world, and never had business been so
prosperous. More than this, our affairs with other nations had been so
handled that throughout the entire civilized world no ruler was more
popular than was Theodore Roosevelt. In England he was spoken of with
the highest praise, and the regards of the Germans had already been
shown in the visit of Prince Henry to this country. He was known to be
vigorous to the last degree, but it was likewise realized that he was
thoroughly honest and straight-forward.

The first stop of the President in his trip West was made at Chicago,
where during the day he laid the corner-stone of the new law building of
the University of Chicago, which university conferred upon him the
degree of LL.D. (Doctor of Laws). In the evening he addressed an
unusually large crowd at the Auditorium building, speaking upon the
Monroe Doctrine.

From Chicago the President journeyed to Milwaukee, and then to St. Paul
and Minneapolis. At the first-named city he made a forceful address on
the trusts, giving his hearers a clear idea of how the great
corporations of to-day were brought into existence, and what may be done
to control them, and in the last-named city he spoke on the
ever-important question of tariff.

It was an eventful week, and when Sunday came the Chief Magistrate was
glad enough to take a day of rest at Sioux Falls, South Dakota. From
there he journeyed to Gardiner, Montana, one of the entrances to that
greatest of all American wonderlands, Yellowstone Park.

It was understood that President Roosevelt wished to visit the Park
without a great following of the general public, and this wish was
carried out to the letter. Mr. Roosevelt had with him the well-known
naturalist, Mr. John Burroughs, and for about two weeks he enjoyed
himself to his heart's content, visiting many of the spots of interest
and taking it easy whenever he felt so disposed. It was not a hunting
trip, although big game is plentiful enough in the Park. It was just
getting "near to nature's heart," and Mr. Roosevelt afterward declared
it to be one of the best outings he had ever experienced.






After the refreshing tour of Yellowstone Park, President Roosevelt
journeyed across Nebraska to Omaha, then across Iowa to Keokuk, and from
the latter city to St. Louis.

As before, he delivered a number of addresses, and wherever he spoke
great crowds came to see and to hear him. In these crowds were people of
all political tendencies, but it made no difference if they were
Republicans, Democrats, or Populists, all were equally glad to greet the
President of the United States and the hero of San Juan Hill.

On this trip he frequently met some of the Rough Riders, and they
invariably did all in their power to make him feel at home. On the
other hand he showed that he had not forgotten them.

"By George, I am glad to see you!" he would exclaim, catching an old
comrade by the hand. And his tone of voice would show that he meant just
what he said.

For a long time the people of St. Louis had been preparing for a grand
fair, to be known as the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, to commemorate
the purchasing from France of all that vast territory of the United
States which lies between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains
and the Gulf of Mexico and British America. The purchase was made in
1803 for fifteen millions of dollars, and it was hoped to hold the
exposition on the one hundredth anniversary, in 1903, but matters were
delayed, and so the fair was postponed until 1904.

The dedication of the fair buildings at the Exposition Grounds was held
on April 30, 1903, and was made a gala occasion by those interested.
President Roosevelt was invited to speak, and also Ex-President
Cleveland, and both made addresses of remarkable interest. Following the
dedication exercises a grand banquet was given at which the scene of
good-fellowship was one not readily forgotten. The President wished the
exposition well, and promised to do all in his power to make it a

Although the President had already travelled many miles, the greater
part of his western trip still lay before him.

From St. Louis he went to Kansas City and to Topeka, where the citizens
were as anxious to meet him as anywhere. He stopped at Sharon Springs
over Sunday, and then went to Denver, and to various towns in Colorado
and in New Mexico. While in New Mexico he became interested in the
systems of irrigation there, and told the people what they might do if
their systems of watering the ground were increased.

Having passed through the Grand Cañon, the second week in May found him
in southern California. He visited Los Angeles, reviewing the annual
floral parade, and many other points, and at Claremont addressed a great
gathering of school children in a beautiful park filled with shrubs and
flowers. The children were decidedly enthusiastic over the meeting, and
when Mr. Roosevelt went away, some pelted him with flowers, which
bombardment he took in good part.

President Roosevelt's visit to Leland Stanford Jr. University in
California came next, and here the students cheered him with vigor. He
visited many of the more important buildings, and was entertained by
members of the faculty.

His face was now set toward the Golden Gate, and San Francisco was all
alive to give him an ovation. It was his first official visit to the
Pacific coast, and all whom he met vied with each other to do him honor,
while they listened with great attention to what he had to say.

Three days were spent in San Francisco and vicinity, and three days more
in a tour of the Yosemite Valley. President Roosevelt was particularly
anxious to see some of the big trees of the State, and was driven to
several that are well known.

The steps of the Chief Magistrate were now turned northward, to Oregon,
and a week was spent at Portland, and in the towns and cities of the
Puget Sound territory, and beyond. Here he saw much that was new and
novel in the lumber trade and in the salmon industry, and was received
with a warmth that could not be mistaken.

"He is a President for the whole country, no mistake about that," said
more than one.

"He makes you feel he is your friend the minute you lay eyes on him,"
would put in another. To many in this far corner of our country, this
visit of the President will ever remain as a pleasant memory. They could
never hope to get to Washington, more than three thousand miles away,
and to have him come out to see them was worth remembering.

The journey eastward was made through Montana to Salt Lake City and then
to Cheyenne, where additional addresses were delivered. From the latter
point a fast train bore him homeward, and by the next Sunday he was back
in the White House once more, as fresh and hearty as ever, and well
prepared to undertake whatever important work might come to hand.

And work was there in plenty. Among the first things taken up by the
President was a scandal in the Post-Office Department. Without loss of
time President Roosevelt ordered Postmaster General Payne to make a
thorough investigation, with the result that many contracts which were
harmful to our post-office system were annulled, and some wrong-doers
were brought to justice.

Toward the end of July there was considerable disturbance in the
Government Printing Office at Washington because a certain assistant
foreman, who had been discharged, was reinstated. All of the bookbinders
were on the point of striking because they did not want the man
returned, as he did not belong to their union. But President Roosevelt
was firm in the matter; and in the end the man went back, and there was
no strike. This affair caused an almost endless discussion in labor
circles, some claiming that the union should have been upheld, while
others thought differently.

During the summer, as was his usual habit, President Roosevelt, with his
family, spent part of his time at his country home at Oyster Bay. This
time the visit to the old homestead was of unusual interest, for, on
August 17, the North Atlantic Fleet of the navy visited that vicinity,
for review and inspection by the President.

It was a gala occasion, and the fleet presented a handsome appearance
as it filed past and thundered out a Presidential salute. Many
distinguished guests were present, and all without exception spoke of
the steady improvement in our navy as a whole. President Roosevelt was
equally enthusiastic, and well he might be, for he had used every means
in his power to make our navy all it should be.

Late in September President Roosevelt returned to Washington, and on
October 15 delivered the principal address at the unveiling of a statue
of that grand military hero, General Sherman. Here once more he was
listened to with tremendous interest, delivering a speech that was
patriotic to the core and full of inspiration.

For some time past matters in Colombia had been in a very mixed-up
condition. The United States were willing to take hold of the Panama
Canal, as already mentioned, but although a treaty had been made to that
effect, the Colombian government would not ratify the agreement.

On November 3, the trouble in Colombia reached its culminating point. On
that day the State of Panama declared itself free and independent. The
people of that State wanted the canal built by the United States, and
were very angry when the rest of the Colombian States would not agree to
the treaty which had been made.

At once there were strong rumors of war, and a few slight attacks were
really made. The United States forbade the transportation of soldiers on
the Panama railroad, and a few days later recognized Panama as an
independent republic. The new republic was likewise recognized by
France, and, later still, by England. On November 9, Panama appointed a
commission to negotiate a canal treaty with our country, and this treaty
was signed and sealed at Washington by Secretary of State Hay, acting
for the United States, and M. Bunau-Varilla, acting for Panama.

The President's next message to Congress went at great length into the
question of the Panama Canal, and in defence of the recognition of the
new republic. It also told of what the new Department of Commerce and
Labor had accomplished, especially the branch devoted to corporations.


(_Photograph by Clinedinst, Washington, D.C._)]

"We need not be over-sensitive about the welfare of corporations
which shrink from the light," wrote Mr. Roosevelt. And in this statement
every one who had the best interests of our nation at heart agreed. To
accomplish great works great corporations are often necessary, but they
must conduct business in such a fashion that they are not ashamed to
show their methods to the public at large.

At the opening of the year 1904 there were strong rumors of a war
between Japan and Russia, over the occupation of Korea, and this war
started early in February by a battle on the sea, wherein the Russian
fleet lost several war-ships. This contest was followed by others of
more or less importance, and it looked as if, sooner or later, other
nations might become involved in the struggle.

"We must keep our hands off," said President Roosevelt, and at once
issued a proclamation, calling on all good citizens to remain strictly
neutral, and warning those who might take part that they could hope for
no aid from the United States should they get into trouble personally or
have any property confiscated. This proclamation was followed by some
excellent work of our State Department, whereby it was agreed among the
leading nations that the zone of fighting should be a limited one,--that
is, that neither Japan nor Russia should be allowed to carry it beyond a
certain defined territory.

For many weeks Congress had debated the Panama Canal treaty and the
action of President Roosevelt regarding the new republic of Panama. On
February 23, 1904, a vote was taken in the Senate, and the Panama Canal
treaty was ratified in all particulars. Without delay some United States
troops were despatched to Panama, to guard the strip of land ten miles
wide through which the canal is to run, and preparations were made to
push the work on the waterway without further delay.

On Saturday, April 30, the great World's Fair at St. Louis was formally
opened to the public. It had cost over fifty millions of dollars and was
designed to eclipse any fair held in the past. The opening was attended
by two hundred thousand visitors, all of whom were more than pleased
with everything to be seen.

It had been arranged that President Roosevelt should formally open the
Exposition by means of telegraphic communications from the White House
to the fair grounds. A key of ivory and gold was used for the purpose,
and as soon as it was touched a salute of twenty-one guns roared forth
in the Exposition's honor. Around the President were assembled the
members of his Cabinet and representatives of many foreign nations.
Before touching the key which was to set the machinery of the wonderful
fair in motion, President Roosevelt spoke as follows:--

"I have received from the Exposition grounds the statement that the
management of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition awaits the pressing of
the button which is to transmit the electric energy which is to unfurl
the flag and start the machinery of the Exposition.

"I wish now to greet all present, and especially the representatives of
the foreign nations here represented, in the name of the American
people, and to thank these representatives for the parts their several
countries have taken in being represented in this centennial anniversary
of the greatest step in the movement which transformed the American
Republic from a small confederacy of States lying along the Atlantic
seaboard into a continental nation.

"This Exposition is one primarily intended to show the progress in the
industry, the science, and the art, not only of the American nation, but
of all other nations, in the great and wonderful century which has just
closed. Every department of human activity will be represented there,
and perhaps I may be allowed, as honorary president of the athletic
association which, under European management, started to revive the
memory of the Olympic games, to say that I am glad that, in addition to
paying proper heed to the progress of industry, of science, of art, we
have also paid proper heed to the development of the athletic pastimes
which are useful in themselves as showing that it is wise for nations to
be able to relax.

"I greet you all. I appreciate your having come here on this occasion,
and in the presence of you, representing the American government and the
governments of the foreign nations, I here open the Louisiana



In reading over the foregoing pages the question may occur to some of my
young readers, How is it possible for President Roosevelt to accomplish
so much and still have time in which to occasionally enjoy himself by
travelling or by going on a hunting tour?

The answer is a very simple one. Mr. Roosevelt works systematically, as
do all who want their labor to amount to something. Years ago, when he
was physically weak, he determined to make himself strong. He persisted
in vigorous exercise, especially in the open air, and in the end
attained a bodily health which any ordinary man may well envy.

The President does each day's work as it comes before him. He does not
borrow trouble or cross a bridge before he comes to it. Whatever there
is to do he does to the very best of his ability, and he allows future
complications to take care of themselves. If a mistake is made, he does
not worry continually over it, but keeps it in mind, so that a like
mistake shall not occur again. When once his hand is on the plough, he
does not believe in turning back. He has unlimited faith in the future
of our glorious country, and a like faith in the honor and courage of
his fellow-citizens.

Any man to be an intelligent worker cannot be dissipated, and the
President is a good illustration of this. He has a good appetite, but
eats moderately, and does not depend upon stimulants or tobacco to
"brace him up" when the work is extra heavy. He goes out nearly every
day for a walk, a ride on horseback, or a drive with some members of his
family, and as a result of this, when night comes, sleeps soundly and
arises the next morning as bright and fresh as ever.

This is the first time that a President with a large family has occupied
the White House. Other Presidents have had a few children, but Mr.
Roosevelt took possession with six, a hearty, romping crowd, the
younger members of which thought it great fun to explore the executive
mansion when first they moved in. The President loves his children
dearly, and is not above "playing bear" with the little ones when time
permits and they want some fun.

Of Mrs. Roosevelt it can truthfully be said that she makes a splendid
"first lady in the land." She takes a great interest in all social
functions, and an equal interest in what is best for her boys and girls
and their friends. She is very charitable, and each year contributes
liberally to hundreds of bazaars and fairs held throughout our country.

The oldest child of the President is Miss Alice Lee Roosevelt, named
after her mother, the first wife of the Chief Magistrate. Although but a
step-daughter to the present Mrs. Roosevelt, the two are as intimate and
loving as if of the same flesh and blood. Miss Roosevelt has already
made her debut in Washington society, and assisted at several gatherings
at the White House.

All of the other children were born after Mr. Roosevelt's second
marriage. His oldest son is Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., commonly called by
his chums, Teddy, Jr. He is a lad of sixteen, bright and clever, and has
been attending a college preparatory school at Groton, Massachusetts, as
already mentioned. He loves outdoor games, and is said to possess many
tastes in common with his father.

The other members of the family are, Kermit, fourteen, Ethel Carew,
twelve, Archibald Bullock, nine, and a lively little boy named Quentin,
who is six.

Some time ago a distinguished member of the English Educational
Commission visited this country and made an inspection of our school
system. When asked what had impressed him most deeply, he answered:--

"The children of the President of the United States sitting side by side
with the children of your workingmen in the public schools."

This simple little speech speaks volumes for the good, hard common sense
of our President. He believes thoroughly in our public institutions, and
knows the real value of sending out his boys to fight their own battles
in the world at large. He does not believe in pampering children, but
in making them self-reliant. All love to go out with him, and when at
Oyster Bay he frequently takes the boys and their cousins for a day's
tramp through the woods or along the beach, or else for a good hard row
on the bay. The President prefers rowing to sailing, and frequently rows
for several miles at a stretch. His enjoyment of bathing is as great as
ever, and his boys love to go into the water with him.

Christmas time at the White House is just as full of joy there as it is
anywhere. The younger children hang up their stockings, and scream with
delight over every new toy received. For some days previous to Christmas
one of the rooms is turned into a storeroom, and to this only Mrs.
Roosevelt and one of the maids hold the key. Presents come in from
everywhere, including many for the President, for his friends far and
near insist upon remembering him. These presents are arranged on a large
oval table near one of the broad windows, and on Christmas morning the
distribution begins.

The President, in his trips to the woods, has seen the great harm done
by cutting down promising evergreens, so he does not believe very much
in having a Christmas tree. But a year ago a great surprise awaited him.

"I'm going to fix up a tree," said little Archie, and managed to smuggle
a small evergreen into the house and place it in a large closet that was
not being used. Here he and his younger brother Quentin worked for
several days in arranging the tree just to suit them. On Christmas
morning, after the presents were given out, both asked their father to
come to where the closet was located.

"What is up now?" asked Mr. Roosevelt, curiously.

"Come and see!" they shouted. And he went, followed by all the others of
the family. Then the closet door was thrown open, and there stood the
tree, blazing with lights. It was certainly a great surprise, and Mr.
Roosevelt enjoyed it as much as anybody.

The children of Washington, and especially those whose fathers occupy
public positions, always look forward with anticipations of great
pleasure to the children's parties given by Mrs. Roosevelt, and these
parties are of equal interest to those living at the mansion.


(_Photograph by Pach Bros., N.Y._)]

Such a party was given during the last holidays, and was attended by
several hundred children, all of whom, of course, came arrayed in their
best. They were received by Mrs. Roosevelt, who had a hand-shake and a
kind word for each, and then some of the Cabinet ladies, who were
assisting, gave to each visitor a button, set in ribbon and tinsel and
inscribed "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

The big main dining-room of the White House had been prepared for the
occasion. There was a Christmas tree at one side of the room, and the
table was filled with fruit, cake, and candy. The President came in and
helped to pass the ice-cream and cake, and Theodore, Jr. and some of the
others passed the candy and other good things.

After this the visitors were asked to go to the East Room and dance. The
Marine Band furnished the music, and while the children were dancing,
the President came in to look at them. The entertainment lasted until
the end of the afternoon, and when the visitors departed, President
Roosevelt was at the door to shake hands and bid them good-by.

And here let us bid good-by ourselves, wishing Theodore Roosevelt and
his family well. What the future holds in store for our President no man
can tell. That he richly deserves the honors that have come to him, is
beyond question. He has done his best to place and keep our United
States in the front rank of the nations of the world. Under him, as
under President McKinley, progress has been remarkably rapid. In the
uttermost parts of the world our Flag is respected as it was never
respected before. Perhaps some few mistakes have been made, but on the
whole our advancement has been justified, and is eminently satisfactory.
The future is large with possibilities, and it remains for the
generation I am addressing to rise up and embrace those opportunities
and make the most of them.



"If we are to be a really great people, we must strive in good faith to
play a great part in the world. We cannot avoid meeting great issues.
All that we can determine for ourselves is whether we shall meet them
well or ill."

"All honor must be paid to the architects of our material prosperity; to
the captains of industry who have built our factories and our railroads;
to the strong men who toil for wealth with brain or hand; for great is
the debt of the nation to these and their kind. But our debt is still
greater to the men whose highest type is to be found in a statesman like
Lincoln, a soldier like Grant."

"A man's first duty is to his own home, but he is not thereby excused
from doing his duty to the state; for if he fails in this second duty it
is under the penalty of ceasing to be a freeman."

--_Extracts from "The Strenuous Life."_

"Is America a weakling to shrink from the work that must be done by the
world's powers? No! The young giant of the West stands on a continent
and clasps the crest of an ocean in either hand. Our nation, glorious in
youth and strength, looks into the future with eager and fearless eyes,
and rejoices, as a strong man to run the race."

--_Extract from Speech seconding the Nomination of William McKinley for

"Poverty is a bitter thing, but it is not as bitter as the existence of
restless vacuity and physical, moral, and intellectual flabbiness to
which those doom themselves who elect to spend all their years in that
vainest of all vain pursuits, the pursuit of mere pleasure."

"Our interests are at bottom common; in the long run we go up or go down

"The first essential of civilization is law. Anarchy is simply the
hand-maiden and forerunner of tyranny and despotism. Law and order,
enforced by justice and by strength, lie at the foundation of

--_Extracts from a Speech delivered at Minneapolis, Minnesota, September
2, 1901._

"We hold work, not as a curse, but as a blessing, and we regard the
idler with scornful pity."

"Each man must choose, so far as the conditions allow him, the path to
which he is bidden by his own peculiar powers and inclinations. But if
he is a man, he must in some way or shape do a man's work."

"It is not given to us all to succeed, but it is given to us all to
strive manfully to deserve success."

"We cannot retain the full measure of our self-respect if we do not
retain pride in our citizenship."

--_Extracts from an Address on "Manhood and Statehood."_

"The true welfare of the nation is indissolubly bound up in the welfare
of the farmer and wage-worker; of the man who tills the soil, and of the
mechanic, the handicraftsman, and the laborer. The poorest motto upon
which an American can act is the motto of 'some men down,' and the
safest to follow is that of 'all men up.'"

--_Extract from Speech delivered at the Dedication of the Pan-American
Fair Buildings._

"The men we need are the men of strong, earnest, solid character--the
men who possess the homely virtues, and who to these virtues add rugged
courage, rugged honesty, and high resolve."

--_Extract from Speech delivered upon the Life of General Grant._




The Naval War of 1812, 2 volumes. (1882.)
The Winning of the West, 6 volumes. (1889-1896.)
Hunting Trips of a Ranchman. (1885.)
Hunting Trips on the Prairie. (Companion volume to that above. 1885.)
The Wilderness Hunter. (1893.)
Hunting the Grisly. (Companion volume to that above. 1893.)
The Rough Riders. (1899.)
Life of Oliver Cromwell. (1900.)
The Strenuous Life--Essays and Addresses. (1900.)
American Ideals. (1897.)
Administration--Civil Service. (1898.)
Life of Thomas Hart Benton. (1887.)
New York. (Historic Towns Series. 1891.)
Life of Gouverneur Morris. (1888.)
Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail. (1888.)
Essays on Practical Politics. (1888.)

Written by Theodore Roosevelt and Henry Cabot Lodge:

Hero Tales from American History. (1895.)

Written by Theodore Roosevelt and G.B. Grinnell:

Trail and Camp Fire. (1896.)
Hunting in Many Lands. (1896.)

Principal Magazine Articles:

Admiral Dewey. (McClure's Magazine.)
Military Preparedness and Unpreparedness. (Century Magazine.)
Mad Anthony Wayne's Victory. (Harper's Magazine.)
St. Clair's Defeat. (Harper's Magazine.)
Fights between Iron Clads. (Century Magazine.)
Need of a New Navy. (Review of Reviews.)



1858.  October 27. Theodore Roosevelt born in New York City, son of
       Theodore Roosevelt and Martha (Bullock) Roosevelt.

1864.  Sent to public school, and also received some private instruction;
       spent summers at Oyster Bay, New York.

1873.  Became a member of the Dutch Reformed Church; has been a member
       ever since.

1876.  September. Entered Harvard College. Member of numerous clubs
       and societies.

1878.  February 9. Death of Theodore Roosevelt, Sr.

1880.  June. Graduated from Harvard College; a Phi Beta Kappa man.
       September 23. Married Miss Alice Lee, of Boston, Massachusetts.
       Travelled extensively in Europe; climbed the Alps; made a member
       of the Alpine Club of London.

1881.  Elected a member of the New York Assembly, and served for three
       terms in succession.

1884.  Birth of daughter, Alice Lee Roosevelt.
       Death of Mrs. Alice (Lee) Roosevelt, Mr. Roosevelt's first wife.
       Death of Mrs. Martha (Bullock) Roosevelt, Mr. Roosevelt's mother.
       Made Delegate-at-large to the Republican National Convention that
       nominated James G. Blaine for President.

1885.  Became a ranchman and hunter.

1886.  Ran for office of mayor of New York City, and was defeated by
       Abram Hewitt.
       Spent additional time in hunting.
       December 2. Married Edith Kermit Carew, of New York City.

1888.  Birth of son, Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.
       September. Grand hunt in the Selkirk Mountains.

1889.  May. Appointed by President Harrison a member of the Civil
       Service Commission; served for six years, four under President
       Harrison and two under President Cleveland.

1890.  Birth of son, Kermit Roosevelt.

1891.  September. Grand hunt at Two-Ocean Pass, Wyoming.

1892.  Birth of daughter, Ethel Carew Roosevelt.

1895.  May 24. Appointed Police Commissioner of New York City by Mayor
       William Strong. Served until April, 1897.
       Birth of son, Archibald Bullock Roosevelt.

1897.  April. Made First Assistant Secretary of the Navy, under
       Secretary Long and President McKinley.
       Birth of son, Quentin Roosevelt.

1898.  April 25. Congress declared war with Spain. Roosevelt
       resigned his position in the Navy Department.
       May. Helped to organize the Rough Riders, and was appointed
       Lieutenant-Colonel, May 6.
       May 29. The Rough Riders left San Antonio, Texas, for Tampa,
       June 2. In camp at Tampa.
       June 7. Move by coal cars to Port Tampa; four companies left
       behind; board transport _Yucatan_.
       June 13. Start for Cuba, without horses.
       June 22. Landing of the Rough Riders at Daiquiri.
       June 23. March to Siboney.
       June 24. Advance to La Guasima (Las Guasimas). First fight
       with the Spanish troops.
       July 1. Battles of San Juan and El Caney. Roosevelt leads the
       Rough Riders up San Juan Hill.
       July 2. Fighting in the trenches by the Rough Riders, Roosevelt
       in command.
       July 3. Sinking of the Spanish fleet off Santiago Bay.
       July 8. Roosevelt made Colonel of the Rough Riders.
       August 7. Departure of the Rough Riders from Cuba.
       August 9. Spain accepts terms of peace offered by the United
       August 16. Arrival of the Rough Riders at Montauk, Long Island.
       September 15. Mustering out of the Rough Riders.
       September 27. Nominated by the Republican party for governor of
       New York.
       October. Grand campaigning tour through the Empire State.
       November. Elected governor of New York by seventeen thousand

1899.  January 1. Assumed office as governor of New York.
       April 10. Delivered famous address on "The Strenuous Life,"
       at Chicago.
       September 29 and 30. Governor appointed these days as holidays
       in honor of a reception to Admiral Dewey; grand water and land

1900.  June 19. Republican Convention met at Philadelphia; Roosevelt
       seconded the nomination of McKinley for President (second term),
       and was nominated for the Vice-Presidency.
       July, August, and September. Governor Roosevelt travelled 20,000
       miles, delivering 673 political speeches at nearly 600 cities
       and towns.
       November 6. McKinley and Roosevelt carried 28 states, Democratic
       opponents carried 17 states; Republican electoral votes, 292,
       Democratic and scattering combined, 155.
       December. Presided over one short session of the United States

1901.  January 11. Started on a five weeks' hunting tour in Northwest
       Colorado; bringing down many cougars.
       April. Attended the dedication of the Pan-American Exposition
       buildings at Buffalo, New York, and delivered an address.
       September 6. Received word, while at Isle la Motte, Vermont,
       that President McKinley had been shot; hurried at once to
       Buffalo; assured that the President would recover, joined his
       family in the Adirondacks.
       September 14. Death of President McKinley. Roosevelt returned
       to Buffalo; took the oath of office as President of the United
       States at the house of Ansley Wilcox; retained the McKinley
       September 15 to 19. Funeral of President McKinley, at Buffalo,
       Washington, and Canton, Ohio. President Roosevelt attended.
       September 20. First regular working day of President Roosevelt
       at the White House.
       December 3. First annual message delivered to Congress.
       December 4. Senate received Hay-Pauncefote canal treaty from
       the President.
       December 17. First break in the McKinley Cabinet. Postmaster
       General Smith resigned; was succeeded by H.C. Payne.

1902.  January 3. Grand ball at the White House, Miss Alice Roosevelt
       formally presented to Washington society.
       January 6. Secretary Gage of the Treasury resigned; was succeeded
       by Ex-Governor Leslie M. Shaw, of Iowa.
       January 20. The President transmitted to Congress report of Canal
       Commission, recommending buying of rights for $40,000,000.
       February 10. Serious sickness of Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. President
       in attendance at Groton, Massachusetts, several days.
       February 24. Reception to Prince Henry of Prussia.
       February 25. Launching of German Emperor's yacht, which was
       christened by Miss Alice Roosevelt.
       March 7. President signed a bill creating a permanent pension
       May 12. Beginning of the great coal strike; largest in the history
       of the United States.
       May 21. President unveiled a monument at Arlington Cemetery, erected
       in memory of those who fell in the Spanish-American War.
       June 9. President reviewed West Point cadets at the centennial
       celebration of that institution.
       July 4. Addressed a great gathering at Pittsburg.
       July 5. Removed his business offices to Oyster Bay for the summer.
       August 11. Retirement of Justice Gray of the Supreme Court; the
       President named Oliver Wendell Holmes as his successor.
       August 22. The President began a twelve days' tour of New
       September 3. Narrow escape from death near Pittsfield,
       Massachusetts. Trolley car ran down carriage, killing Secret
       Service attendant.
       September 6 and 7. President visited Chattanooga, Tennessee,
       and delivered addresses.
       October 3. President called conference at Washington concerning
       coal strike.
       October 21. As a result of several meetings between the President,
       the mine operators, and the mine workers the miners resumed work,
       and a commission was appointed by the President to adjust matters
       in dispute.
       November 19. Grand reception to the President at Memphis, Tennessee.
       December 2. President's message to Congress was read by both

1903.  January 15. President signed the free coal bill passed by Congress.
       January 21. President signed the bill for the reorganization of the
       military system.
       March 5. Special session of Congress called by the President to
       consider Cuban reciprocity bill and Panama Canal treaty with
       March 12. President appointed a Commission to report on
       organization, needs, and conditions of government work.
       March 18. President received report of Coal Commission.
       April 2. President received degree of LL.D. from the University of
       Chicago. Beginning of long trip to the west.
       April 4. President addressed Minnesota legislature at St. Paul.
       April 30. President delivered address at dedication of buildings
       of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, at St. Louis.
       June 6. President ordered an investigation into the Post-office
       Department scandals.
       July 4. First message around the world, via new Pacific cable,
       received by President at Oyster Bay.
       July 23. The President refused to consider charges made by a
       bookbinders' union against a workman in the Government Printing
       Office, thereby declaring for an "open" shop.
       August 17. Grand naval review by the President, on Long Island
       Sound, near Oyster Bay.
       September 17. President delivered an address at the dedication of
       a monument to New Jersey soldiers, on the battle-field of Antietam.
       October 15. President delivered an address at unveiling of statue
       to General Sherman, at Washington.
       October 20. President called extra session of Congress to consider
       a commercial treaty with Cuba.
       November 3. Panama proclaimed independent of Colombia.
       November 6. The United States government formally recognized the
       independence of the state of Panama.
       November 10. Opening of extra session of Congress called by
       President to consider commercial treaty with Cuba.
       November 18. A new canal treaty was formally signed at Washington
       by Secretary Hay, of the United States, and M. Bunau-Varilla, acting
       for Panama.
       December 2. The canal treaty was ratified at Panama.
       December 7. The President sent regular message to Congress
       especially defending the administration policy regarding Panama
       and the canal.

1904.  January 4. The President sent a special message to Congress
       regarding the recognition of the new republic of Panama. This was
       followed for weeks by debates, for and against the action of the
       February. War broke out between Japan and Russia; the President
       issued a proclamation declaring the neutrality of the United States.
       February 22. The President and family assisted at a Washington's
       Birthday tree-planting at the White House grounds.
       February 23. The United States ratified all the provisions of the
       Panama Canal treaty; preparations were made, under the directions
       of the President, to begin work without delay.
       April 30. President, at Washington, delivered address and pressed
       telegraphic key opening World's Fair at St. Louis.

American Boys' Life Of William McKinley

By EDWARD STRATEMEYER. 300 pages. Illustrated by A.B. Shute, and from
photographs $1.25


Here is told the whole story of McKinley's boyhood days, his life at
school and at college, his work as a school teacher, his glorious career
in the army, his struggles to obtain a footing as a lawyer, his efforts
as a Congressman, and lastly his prosperous career as our President.
There are many side lights on the work at the White House during the war
with Spain, and in China, all told in a style particularly adapted to
boys and young men. The book is full of interesting anecdotes, all taken
from life, showing fully the sincere, honest, painstaking efforts of a
life cut all too short. The volume will prove an inspiration to all boys
and young men, and should be in every one's library.

_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid, on receipt of price, by
the publishers._




_Author of "The Bound to Succeed Series," "The Ship and Shore Series,"
"Colonial Series," "Pan-American Series," etc._

Six volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume $1.25


Or The War Fortunes of a Castaway

Or Fighting for the Single Star

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Or A Young Officer in the Tropics

Or Under Lawton through Luzon

Or Last Battles in the Philippines

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sufficiently interwoven with fiction to render them most entertaining to
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_For sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of price by_
LEE AND SHEPARD, Publishers,



_Author of "Pan-American Series," "Old Glory Series," "Great American
Industries Series," "American Boys' Biographical Series," etc._

Four volumes. Cloth. Illustrated by A.B. Shute. Price per volume, $1.25


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_ON TO PEKIN, Or Old Glory in China_

Cloth. 330 pages. Illustrated by A. Burnham Shute. $1.25


The hero, Gilbert Pennington, has become a lieutenant in the regular
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international forces. Mr. Stratemeyer has risen to the occasion by
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Mr. Stratemeyer gives his youthful readers plenty of adventures, but
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admirable.--_Home Journal, Boston._

Or Two Boys' Adventures in South Africa_

Illustrated by A. Burnham Shute 354 pages Price $1.25

Relates the experiences of two boys, cousins to each other, one American
and the other English, whose fathers are engaged in the Transvaal, one
in farming and the other in mining operations. While the two boys are
off on a hunting trip after big game, the war between the Boers and
Britons suddenly breaks out, and the boys find themselves placed between
hostile armies, where their thrilling experiences are brought out in Mr.
Stratemeyer's best style.

Exhibits the same qualities which have given popularity to his former
writings.--_The Times, Pittsburg, Pa._

A stirring story of the South African war.--_The Journal, Indianapolis,

The kind of story to please boys and give them a fair idea of a great
historical event.--_St. Louis Post-Despatch._




Or From Maine to Oregon for Fortune_

320 pages. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.00 net


A splendid new story, undoubtedly the best Mr. Stratemeyer has yet
penned. It covers the whole of the great lumber industry of our country,
the scene shifting from Maine to Michigan and the Great Lakes, and then
to the Columbia and the Great Northwest. The heroes are two sturdy
youths who have been brought up among the lumbermen of their native
State, and who strike out in an honest endeavor to better their
condition. As mill hands, fellers, log drivers, and general camp workers
they have a variety of adventures, absorbing in the extreme. An ideal
volume for the library of every wide-awake American who wishes to know
what our great lumber industry is to-day.

Boys are acquiring the Stratemeyer habit.--_Post, Chicago._

Mr. Stratemeyer's books are not only entertaining but
instructive.--_Daily Press, Portland, Me._

He knows how to attract and hold boy readers.--_Evening Standard, New
Bedford, Mass._

The demands of boy readers are peculiar, and the author who can satisfy
them, not once or twice, but uniformly, must possess rare ability in an
extremely difficult field. Such an author is Edward Stratemeyer.--_Sunday
News, Newark, N.J._




Or American Boys in Venezuela_

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.25

This volume tells of five American youths, who, with their tutor, sail
from New York to La Guayra, touching at Curaçao on the way. They visit
Caracas, the capital, Macuto, the fashionable seaside resort, go
westward to the Gulf of Maracaibo and lake of the same name, and at last
find themselves in the region of the mighty Orinoco, and of course they
have some exciting experiences, one of which gives name to the book.
Just the book boys and young men should read, in view of the general
interest in matters Pan-American.

Its pictures of South American life and scenery are novel and
instructive.--_The Literary World, Boston._

The scenes described are of the sort to charm the hearts of adventurous
boys.--_The Outlook, N.Y._


Or American Boys in the West Indies_

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.25

This is a complete tale in itself, but has the same characters which
have appeared so successfully in "Lost on the Orinoco." The boys, with
their tutor, sail from Venezuela to the West Indies, stopping at
Jamaica, Cuba, Hayti, and Porto Rico. They have numerous adventures on
the way, and then set out for St. Pierre, Martinique, where they
encounter the effects of the eruption of Mt. Pelee, and two of the boys
are left on a raft to shift for themselves. Life in the West Indies is
well portrayed, and the tale will appeal to many an older person as well
as to the boys.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "American Boy's Life of Theodore Roosevelt" ***

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