glorious record of American valor. They have secured, not alone the gratitude of the Government and the people, but for themselves and their descendants an imperishable distinction. They may not fully appreciate, and the country may not, the heroism of their conduct and its important support to the Government. I think I do and so I am here to express it.

The mighty army of volunteers and regulars, numbering over 250,000, which last year responded to the call of the Government with an alacrity without precedent or parallel, by the terms of their enlistment were to be mustered out, with all of the regulars above 27,000, when peace with Spain was effected. Peace brought us the Philippines, by treaty cession from Spain. The Senate of the United States ratified the treaty. Every step taken was in obedience to the requirements of the Constitution. There was no flaw in the title, and no doubtful methods were employed to obtain it. It became our territory and is ours, as much as the Louisiana Purchase, or Texas, or Alaska. A body of insurgents, in no sense representing the sentiment of the people of the islands, disputed our lawful authority, and even before the ratification of the treaty by the American Senate were attacking the very forces who fought for and secured their freedom.

This was the situation in April, 1899, the date of the exchange of ratifications— only 27,000 regulars subject to the unquestioned direction of the Executive, and they for the most part on duty in Cuba and Porto Rico, or invalided at home after their severe campaign in the tropics. Even had they been available, it would have required months to transport them to the Philippines. Practically a new army had to be created. These loyal volunteers in the Philippines said, "We will stay until the Government can organize an army at home and transport it to the seat of hostilities."

They did stay, cheerfully, uncomplainingly, patriotically. They suffered and sacrificed, they fought and fell, they drove back and punished the rebels who resisted Federal authority, and who with force attacked the sovereignty of the United States in its newly acquired territory. Without them then and there we would

have been practically helpless on land, our flag would have had its first stain and the American name its first ignominy. The brilliant victories of the army and navy in the bay and city of Manila would have been won in vain, our obligations to civilization would have remained temporarily unperformed, chaos would have reigned. and whatever government there was would have been by the will of one man and not with the consent of the governed. Who refused to sound the retreat? Who stood in the breach when others weakened? Who resisted the suggestion of the unpatriotic that they should come home?

Let me call the roll of honor--let me name the regiments and battalions that deserve to be perpetuated in the Nation's annals.

Their action was not a sudden impulse born of excitement, but a deliberate determination to sustain, at the cost of life if need be, the honor of their Government and the authority of its flag:

First California, California Artillery, First Colorado, First Idaho, Fifty-first Iowa, Twentieth Kansas, Thirteenth Minnesota, First Montana, First Nebraska, First North Dakota, Nevada Cavalry, Second Oregon, Tenth Pennsylvania, First South Dakota, First Tennessee, Utah Artillery, First Washington, First Wyoming, Wyoming Battery.

To these must be added about four thousand enlisted men of the regular army who were entitled to their discharge under the Peace Proclamation of April 11, 1899; the greater portion of whom participated. in the engagements of the Eighth Corps, and are still performing arduous services in the field.

Nor must the navy be forgotten. Sixtyfive devoted sailors participated in the engagement of May 1 in Manila Bay whose terms of service had previously expired, continuing on duty quite a year after that action.

For these men of the army and navy we have only honor and gratitude.

The world will never know the restraint of our soldiers-their self-control under the most exasperating conditions. For weeks, subjected to the insults and duplicity of the insurgent leaders, they preserved the status quo, remembering that they were under an order from their Government to sacredly observe the terms of the protocol in letter and spirit, and avoid all

conflict, except in defense, pending the negotiations of the treaty of peace. They were not the aggressors. They did not begin hostilities against the insurgents pending the ratification of the treaty of peace in the Senate, great as was their justification, because their orders from Washington forbade it. I take all the responsibility for that direction. Otis only executed the orders of his Government, and the soldiers, under great provocation to strike back, obeyed.

Until the treaty was ratified we had no authority beyond Manila city, bay, and harbor. We then had no other title to defend, no authority beyond that to maintain. Spain was still in possession of the remainder of the archipelago. Spain had sued for peace. The truce and treaty were not concluded. The first blow was struck by the insurgents, and it was a foul blow. Our kindness was reciprocated with cruelty, our mercy with a Mauser. The flag of truce was invoked only to be dishonored. Our soldiers were shot down while ministering to the wounded Filipinos. Our dead were mutilated. Our humanity was interpreted as weakness, our forbearance as cowardice.

They assailed our sovereignty, and there will be no useless parley, no pause, until the insurrection is suppressed and American authority acknowledged and established. The misguided followers in rebellion have only our charity and pity. As to the cruel leaders who have needlessly sacrificed the lives of thousands of their people, at the cost of some of our best blood, for the gratification of their own ambitious de

signs, I will leave to others the ungracious task of justification and eulogy.

Every one of the noble men, of the regulars or volunteers, soldiers or seamen, who thus signally served their country in its extremity, deserves the special recognition of Congress, and it will be to me an unfeigned pleasure to recommend for each of them a special medal of honor.

Men of the Tenth Pennsylvania, while we give you hail and greeting from overflowing hearts, we do not forget, nor will you, the brave men who remain and those who have gone forward to take your places, and those other brave men who have so promptly volunteered, crowding each other to get to the front, to carry forward to successful completion the work you so nobly began and so faithfully prosecuted. Our prayers go with them, and more men and munitions if required, for the speedy suppression of the rebellion, the establishment of peace and tranquillity and a government under the undisputed sovereignty of the United States-a government which will do justice to all, and at once encourage the best efforts and aspirations of these distant people and the highest development of their rich and fertile lands.

The Government to which you gave your love and loyalty welcomes you to your homes.

With no blot or stain upon your record, the story of your unselfish service to country and to civilization will be, to the men who take your places at the front and on the firing-line, and to future generations, an example of patriotism and an inspiration to duty.

of artillery, and artillery the insurgents seldom had. Outside the line of intrenchments no house, tree, thicket, or other object that might shelter or conceal an attacking force was allowed to stand; but inside the line, as we approached the station, we always passed through an extensive reconcentrado suburb, consisting of a hundred or more palm-thatched huts, separated one from another by short stretches of coarse, wiry grass, or interspersed with little cactus-hedged gardenplots in which the fresh green of lettuce, cabbages, and sweet potatoes was brightened by the deep blue of spiry lupines or the orange glow of African marigolds.

Passing slowly through the wide belt of reconcentrado huts which encircled the village or town, we stopped at last in front of the station-a one or two story building of wood or stuccoed brick-whose loopholed walls and fort-like aspect seemed quite out of harmony with the little flowergarden, or small ornamental park, in or beside which it often stood. On the platforms of the stations in the larger towns, such as Union and Bolondron, there was generally a motley, heterogeneous crowd of ragged fruit-peddlers; poor reconcentrados with coarse brown sugar-sacks wrapped around their shoulders; armed Cuban soldiers in dirty linen suits, mildewed sombreros, and down-at-the-heel slippers, who were acting in the capacity of municipal police; smartly dressed insurgent officers, going to meet General Gomez at Santa Clara; two or three Cuban ladies with dark eyes and heavily powdered cheeks, who seemed to be expecting friends; and now and then an American soldier from the post-garrison, whose neat uniform, erect carriage, and disciplined bearing contrasted strangely with the loose, dirty shirts, lounging attitudes, and go-asyou-please behavior of the negro police.

Most of the stations had already been decorated with flags in anticipation of the coming of General Gomez, and I was gratified to see that the Stars and Stripes were nearly, if not quite, as much in evidence as was the banner of the insurgents. Some of the American flags lacked the requisite number of stars, and bore stripes that had been cut out of old sheets and red damask tablecloths; but that only made them the more interesting and significant, because it showed that the people

were determined to do honor to the liberating army of the United States, even if they had to sacrifice all the sheets and tablecloths in their scantily furnished houses.

As soon as our train stopped at a station platform, the cars were invaded by a small army of impudent boys, whistling American airs, and begging pertinaciously for "fi' cents;" thin-faced reconcentrado girls selling unwholesome-looking sweet-cakes of domestic manufacture; and older peddlers, of both sexes, offering delicate, finger-long bananas, twelve-inch sections of juicy sugar-cane, wild oranges whose golden exterior concealed a heart full of bitterness, green cocoanuts pierced with holes and provided with convenient suction-tubes, live chickens squawking indignant protests against being held upside down by the legs, and beautiful Cuban quails in azure skull-caps and scarlet hose, bearing, on their breasts of Quaker brown, black Crusader shields delicately edged with blue. Whether the chickens and quails were brought to the train to supply an actual demand, or whether they were the only things of value that the venders possessed, I do not know; but it would be hard to imagine anything less suited to meet the wants of the casual traveler than an active, long-legged Spanish chicken, in the full possession of all its muscular capabilities and vocal powers. The quail had beauty, at least, to recommend it, and was not too large to be carried in a pocket; but what immediate disposition a railway passenger could make of a scrawny Cuban chicken, whose legs were not even tied, I found myself unable to conjecture. I thought it possible that one of the ungainly fowls might be sold in our car, and that I should get enlightenment by observation; but chickens with their heads on and their vitals in situ seemed to be a drug in that market, and not a sale was made. There is no doubt, however, that quails and singing birds are often sold on Cuban railway trains, and that Cubans generally—or at least Cubans who live in the country—are very fond of both birds and flowers. The station-master at Navajas, where we changed trains for Cardenas, had hanging in his office and about the station no less than nineteen cages of birds, including quails, mourning doves, mocking-birds, canaries, and half