The Rough Rider (11 page)

Gail tried to comfort her mother, but there was little she could say, for she too was worried about her brother. She left the house, promising to come back when Jeb was home, and went at once to the mission. When she entered, the service had already started, and she was not surprised to see Lewis Winslow sitting on one of the rough benches near the front. She was a little startled to see that he had brought a young woman with him, dressed in fine clothing and wearing expensive jewelry. Taking her usual place, Gail did not look at the pair again. But after the service, Lewis brought the woman over to Gail, saying, “Miss Alice Cates, I’d like you to meet Miss Gail Summers.”

Gail smiled at her and said, “We’re glad to have you visit the mission, Miss Cates. Did you enjoy the service?”

Alice Cates had practically forced Lewis to bring her to the mission service. She’d heard of the Water Street Mission and how it was flowering in the roughest section of New York. Always interested in anything new and exciting, the girl had wanted to experience it at least once. But after hearing Awful Gardner’s message on everyone’s need for a Savior, and feeling out of place with those around her, she had been appalled by the whole thing. Now there was a curl to her lips as she said, “Very nice, I’m sure.” She looked around at the ill-clad group of men and the few women who appeared rough and bedraggled. She turned to Lewis and, with disdain edging her voice, said, “I think it’s time to go, Lewis.”

“Of course, Alice.” Lewis turned to Gail and said, “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as the pair left, Gail walked over to where Deborah was speaking with one of the women who’d come in. When Deborah had finished encouraging the woman, Gail asked, “Did you meet Lewis’s lady friend?”

Deborah’s eyes narrowed. “Yes—I talked with them for a while.”

“What did you think of her?”

Deborah’s shoulders stiffened, and Gail sensed almost a hardness in her friend—something she had never seen before.

“I didn’t like her,” Deborah said abruptly.

“You didn’t?” Gail was surprised. In all the time they had been together, she had never heard Deborah speak an unkind word about anyone. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s playing at God,” Deborah said sharply. “She didn’t come down here looking for the Lord—she came down here to flaunt her station in life and gape at us as if we were a bunch of animals.” She turned angrily and walked away.

Gail mentioned the incident to Awful Gardner, who said thoughtfully, “I saw the same thing. Deborah’s a good-hearted girl, but something about that high-society woman Lewis brought in here raised her back up. I don’t know what it was—it was a puzzle to me, too.”

****

On the way home, Lewis asked, “How did you like the service, Alice?” He had been extremely nervous about taking her there. Somehow, he knew he’d made a mistake and felt ashamed by it, but he wanted to know how she felt.

“Oh, it was amusing,” she said. “Such efforts for those kind of people need to be done, I suppose. But I’m surprised that you’d spend your time there. I’ll introduce you to the bishop tomorrow. If you’re interested in this sort of thing, you can do it on a much larger scale.”

Lewis felt her rebuff and said stiffly, “You needn’t do that,
Alice. I think it’s a good work and I’m content to be where I am.”

At once, Alice turned to him, pulled him forward and kissed him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just seem to have to boss men. You’ll have to take a stick to me.”

Lewis was taken aback by her sudden gesture. He’d kissed her before, but he sensed something in this kiss that caused him to be a bit slow in answering. He started to pull her toward him, but she resisted him, saying, “Oh no—we can’t let this get to be a habit.” She laughed and said, “Wait till you get your uniform. Won’t you be handsome!” She studied him with a self-satisfied smile, then whispered with promise in her voice, “I could never resist a man in a uniform!”

CHAPTER FIVE

“You May Fire When Ready, Gridley!”

A large wave that comes crashing in on the sandy beaches of a country originates miles away—sometimes days earlier. Beginning as an almost inconsequential swelling of a small volume of water, it travels under the surface for miles, causing only a mound on the expanse of the huge ocean. As it approaches the shore, it gains volume and speed until finally it breaks, raising an enormous white-capped, rolling expanse that crashes onto the shoreline with a roar.

Theodore Roosevelt’s career might well be said to have begun in such a fashion. The sinking of the battleship
Maine
was the tiny, almost unnoticed beginning in the life of the man who would be known to the world over as Teddy Roosevelt.

Roosevelt was a brisk young man with conspicuous eyeglasses. His mouth was packed with large white teeth, which he loved to bare when he grinned. He often uttered the word, “Bully!” to express his admiration for almost anything, from beef steak to a triumph in the State Department. He’d arrived in Washington in April as the new Assistant Secretary of the Navy. He was, however, no stranger to that city, for he’d served there as a civil service commissioner for five years.

Theodore Roosevelt was not ignorant of naval affairs. When he was a stripling of twenty-two, he’d written a book entitled
The Naval War of 1812,
a work recognized by military historians as the definitive record of that struggle.
Roosevelt’s thorough understanding of the importance of maritime sovereignty had turned him into a longtime public advocate for a larger and more modern fleet.

Roosevelt’s carefully tailored suit, his precise enunciation, and his upper-class accent that had echoes of Harvard misled many of his observers. A huge bully wearing two guns had made that sort of mistake in a Dakota saloon once. Roosevelt had taken away the man’s guns, knocked him senseless, and then dumped him in a shed until he woke up and found his way out of town.

Those who were acquainted with the thirty-year-old aristocrat knew him to be a man of action, as well as a man of words. He was a fearless advocate of the strenuous life and proved it by his vigorous activities—hunting big game in Africa, turning himself into a cowboy by sheer determination, boxing, and other difficult pursuits that he felt made a man what he should be.

The state of the Assistant Secretary’s mind about war had been greatly influenced by a book written by Alfred Thayer Mayhan, a naval officer and historian. Roosevelt had devoured Mayhan’s
The Influence of Sea Power Upon History,
declaring it to be “a bully good book”! Basically, Mayhan had advocated that America could depend on one thing to preserve its sovereignty—sea power. The annals of history had already proved this true with European nations such as England and Spain. In 1884, as a result of this rising awareness, the Naval War College had been established at Newport, Rhode Island. Mayhan had been appointed as president of the newly formed college. Mayhan, a son of a West Point professor, began to develop his thesis on sea power there, and his maritime acumen influenced Roosevelt tremendously in the years that followed.

As the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Roosevelt delivered a speech to the student body and faculty at the Naval War College. It was, however, a speech intended for public consumption and was a plea for the country to build and maintain
a bigger and better navy. Roosevelt took as his theme George Washington’s rule, “To be prepared for war is the most effectual means to promote peace.” The tone of the speech, so characteristic of Roosevelt, was so militant-minded that it startled the professional officers in the audience.

In Teddy Roosevelt’s mind, as he struggled over the crisis of the Spanish War, he was extremely concerned about the position of Commander of the Asiatic Squadron, which was soon to be vacant. He well knew that the new commander would control to a great extent the events of the war that was sure to come. Roosevelt had his own candidate for that command—George Dewey, a fifty-nine-year-old Civil War veteran.

Roosevelt demonstrated his political prowess by adroitly manipulating the War Department until Dewey was appointed to the position. “Now,” Roosevelt exclaimed, “we’ve put this thing in the hands of a self-starter. He’ll know how to handle those Spanish fellows!”

After the explosion that destroyed the
Maine,
a furor swept through most of the Western countries. Germany sent armed naval forces into Manila, for Kaiser Wilhelm II was anxious to become involved in the fray. With the rising tide of antagonism, the Spanish Court began to seriously strengthen its military buildup. The court met for long hours, trying to ascertain what had happened in the Port of Havana, but they couldn’t come to any real conclusions. Eyewitnesses recalled two explosions—a sharp, gunlike report, followed a second or two later by a more massive and prolonged blast. However, after much discussion, there was never any conclusive evidence that the Spanish or anyone else had deliberately blown up the
Maine.

That Spain was innocent apparently never once occurred to Teddy Roosevelt. He plunged ahead with his characteristic energy, and on February 25, the small wave that had begun years ago when as a boy he had become interested in politics and warfare finally crested and thrust Roosevelt into his career. The scene was set that would propel him into the developing political conflict. The Secretary of the Navy had left his Assistant Secretary in charge, and Roosevelt immediately began issuing a steady stream of orders. He sent guns from the Washington Navy Yard to New York, where they were used to arm merchant ships as auxiliary cruisers. Cables went out to American squadron commanders around the world ordering them to stock their ships with coal and make preparations to sail at once. But his most audacious action involved the Asiatic Squadron.

It was evident that this fleet anchored in Hong Kong was in the most advantageous position to attack Manila. Hong Kong lay only some six hundred miles from the Philippines, while most of the squadron remained at Nagasaki, twelve hundred miles from the Spanish-controlled islands. Teddy Roosevelt was a bold man. In the absence of the Secretary, he seized upon the opportunity to cable Dewey: “Order the squadron to Hong Kong. Keep full of coal. In the event of
declaration of war with Spain, your duty will be to see that the Spanish squadron does not leave the Asiatic Coast. Then offensive operation in Philippine Islands. Keep
Olympia
until further orders. Roosevelt.”

It was sheer audacity. Those who later wrote the biographies of Teddy Roosevelt pinpointed it as one of the most propitious acts of his fiery political career. The next day, a stunned Secretary of the Navy, John Davis Long, wrote in his diary that the Assistant Secretary had come very near to causing more of an explosion than what had happened to the
Maine.
“The very devil seemed to possess him yesterday afternoon!”

But the orders to Commodore Dewey were not revoked, and the first phase of the Spanish-American War plans had now been set in motion. The navy was armed and ready to move at a moment’s notice.

****

Lewis pulled up in front of the Mark Winslow home and stepped out of the carriage. Sam, the lanky handyman who worked for Mark and Lola, came to take the lines. “I’ll put them up, Mr. Lewis,” he said amiably. “Mr. Mark and Miss Lola have been waiting for you.”

“There was a lot of traffic,” Lewis said, handing the lines to the man. “We’ll be going back after lunch, Sam. You might give the team a good feed.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll take care of it.”

Lewis went over and helped Alice out of the carriage. Taking his hand, she stepped to the ground, looking at the lowlying house. “What a pretty place! Not as big as I’d expected.”

“It’s very comfortable, though not like your home. Uncle Mark and Aunt Lola aren’t much on big places.” He spoke offhandedly of the colossal manor where Alice Cates lived with her family. Lewis found it impressive, but was never very comfortable there, despite his many visits. He liked Mr. Cates well enough, a mild-mannered man, who gave no
indication of the wealth he had accumulated—but he had felt the resistance of Mrs. Cates from the first day they met. He knew instinctively that the woman had high ambitions for Alice—primarily a rich husband. And the coolness and distance he had sensed at that meeting had not changed in the following weeks.

“Look—they’re waiting for us.” He led Alice up the steps, where they were greeted by Mark and Lola.

“Come in,” Mark said heartily. “You’re just in time for lunch. How are you, Alice? You’re looking beautiful, as usual.”

Alice smiled at Mark and put out her hand. She was fascinated by Mark Winslow. “I declare, Mrs. Winslow, you must have had a time being married to a good-looking man like this!”

Lola said, “Don’t encourage him! He’s vain enough as it is.” She smiled at the girl, shook her hand, and said, “Come inside—lunch is on the table. Why are you so late?”

“Oh, Alice wanted to show me Madison Square Garden.” He grinned at Lola and winked. “There’s a statue of a young lady in that place wearing no more than a few leaves. I think it’s indecent.”

Alice laughed. “I noticed you looked at it long enough to take notes. Are you planning on writing a letter of protest to the papers?”