Derring-do created a hero in 1898

Although he is mostly forgotten today, in the years following the 1898 Spanish-American War, almost all Americans knew of the exploits of Col. Andrew S. Rowan. In fact, in the public's mind, his perilous mission to deliver a "Message to Garcia" probably matched the Rough Riders charge up San Juan Hill.

On the morning of April 8, President William McKinley and Col. Arthur Wagner, head of the Bureau of Military Intelligence, met at the White House to discuss how to contact Maj. Gen. Calixto Garcia Iniguez, chief strategist of the Cuban revolutionary forces.

With war against Spain imminent, McKinley needed information on a number of military matters that only the wily jungle fighter could give. "Where," he asked Wagner, "can I find a man who will carry a message to Garcia?"

Wagner said he knew "a lieutenant named Rowan, who will carry it for you."

"Send him!" McKinley ordered.

Wagner speedily contacted Rowan (19th U.S. Infantry), who was stationed in Washington, and invited him to lunch at the Army and Navy Club. Once seated, Col. Wagner promptly asked the officer, "When does the next boat leave for Jamaica?"

Rowan, the author of a recent book on Cuba, thought Wagner might be joking but promptly excused himself and went to find out. When Rowan returned, he told the colonel that a British ship named the Adirondack would be sailing out of New York the next day.

"Can you take that boat?" Wagner asked.

The lieutenant said yes, and Wagner replied, "Get ready to take it."

Wagner then told Rowan that he had been selected by the president "to carry a message to General Garcia, who will be found somewhere in eastern Cuba." He also instructed the younger man to memorize the message and his orders.

Now convinced that Wagner was serious, Rowan paid close attention as his superior described the particulars of the mission. When he finished, the colonel added, "Your train leaves at midnight. Good-bye and good luck. Get that message to Garcia!"

Strange ride

Upon reaching Kingston, Jamaica, Rowan secretly met with Cuban operatives. On April 23, his 41st birthday, the West Virginia native received a coded cable from the War Department, telling him, "Join Garcia as soon as possible."

The Cubans soon dispatched the lieutenant by carriage on what he called "one of the strangest rides ever taken by a soldier on duty or off." That night, different coachmen sped him 72 miles northward toward a secluded inlet on the Caribbean Sea. His only meal came at a stop to change horses when an old man "shoved through the door a deliciously fried chicken and two bottles of Bass' ale."

After nine hours, his driver stopped and turned Rowan over to a group of heavily armed men. They escorted him to a house where he met Gervacio Sabio, his guide.

On the morning of the 24th, Rowan was aboard a small fishing vessel getting ready to start a 100-mile sail across the Caribbean to the southern shores of Cuba. If luck stayed on their side, the lieutenant and his four companions would quickly make the crossing without incident.

Along the way, however, Gervacio sighted a Spanish patrol boat in the distance. While he remained topside, the rest of the men hid below deck. When the craft came within hailing distance, the bold skipper played the part of the lone fisherman to perfection, and the unsuspecting enemy soon steamed away.

At 4 p.m., they sighted the Sierra Maestra, the high, rugged range paralleling Cuba's southern coast. Gervacio decided to stay about 25 miles offshore and then, after midnight, make for what Rowan called "the waters of a hidden peaceful bay."

By the morning of the 25th, the men had all their equipment ashore and were ready to start marching inland. Then, bidding farewell to a number of curious onlookers, Rowan and the others plunged into the thick jungle bordering the narrow coastal plain.

"The heat soon became oppressive," Rowan recalled, "and caused me to envy my companions, none of whom were burdened by superfluous clothing."

Narrow escape

Once through the jungle, they reached the foothills and, higher up, the tropical forest. Nearing the Royal Road, a highway that ran from Portillo to Santiago, Rowan noticed his companions "disappearing into the jungle." He followed. Then Gervacio halted and signaled him to be quiet.

Seconds later, a Spanish cavalry patrol trotted by. Although the guide had his men positioned to waylay the horsemen, he demurred. "Duty first," he said, "and pleasure afterward."

That evening, the party arrived at a remote insurgent camp. At once, Rowan spied two men dressed in strange uniforms. When he asked Gervacio their identity, the man answered, "They are deserters from the army of Spain, Senor." The lieutenant then ordered him to "Question these men closely, and see that they do not leave camp during our stay."

Later, however, the Spaniards decided to escape, return to camp, and warn their countrymen of the American's presence. That night, Rowan was abruptly awakened "by the challenge of a sentinel, followed by a shot."

Suddenly, Rowan saw a man coming toward his hammock. The lieutenant rolled out just in time to see someone strike the man with "a machete, which cut through the bones of his right shoulder to the lung." Before dying, the Spaniard said that he had determined to kill the American after the guard had shot his friend.

Meeting Garcia

A day later, horses and saddles arrived, and Rowan's group set off on a four-day ride to Bayamo, a city in central Cuba that Garcia's forces were besieging. For safety, the band stuck to the highlands, but the steep trails proved very demanding for man and beast alike.

Upon reaching Jibaro, Rowan met with a staff officer from a rebel general named Rios. Rios himself showed up the next day and promptly added 200 riders to Rowan's escort. The march continued, and by the night of April 30, they were camped along the banks of the Rio Buey, just 20 miles from Bayamo. Presently, Gervacio arrived with news that Garcia had taken the town.

On May 1, the same day U.S. Adm. George Dewey's Asiatic Squadron sank the Spanish Pacific Fleet in Manila Bay, Rowan and his companions arrived at Garcia's headquarters in Bayamo. Gervacio dismounted and walked into the building and, after a slight delay, came back with the general.

Probably the first thing the American noticed about the powerfully built man was a deep scar in the middle of his forehead. In another insurrection, more than two decades earlier, the cornered general had put his .45 in his mouth and squeezed the trigger. Luckily, the bullet had missed his brain.

Garcia, clad in a spotless white uniform, explained to Rowan that he had taken time to examine some papers sent to him from Jamaica, where the Cuban operatives were known as "the junta."

"There is humor in everything," Rowan wrote, "I had been described by the letters from the junta as a 'man of confidence'. The translator had made me 'a confidence man.' "

Return home

Rowan then got down to business. The United States needed to know the position of Spanish forces, their condition, numbers and morale, "and the character of their officers; especially of their commanding officers." He also needed information on the island's topography, roads, the strength of Garcia's forces and whether or not the general had any suggestions for a campaign, joint or separate, involving the Cuban armies and the forces of the United States.

Garcia then excused himself to confer with his staff. Returning at 3 p.m., the general told Rowan that he would be sending three of his most trusted followers, Gen. Enrique Coilazo, Col. Carlos Hernandez and Lt. Col. Gonzalo Garcia Vieta, back with him. Those men could readily answer any questions U.S. military planners had, he said. Garcia also emphasized his need for American arms.

After dinner, the lieutenant thanked Garcia, embraced him and then departed for Manati, a town on the northern coast. Rowan wrote, "To all intents and purposes, I was a spy within the enemy lines! Discovery meant death with one's face to the wall."

Reaching his destination on May 5, Rowan discovered that the boat chosen to take him 150 miles to New Providence on Nassau Island "was a cockleshell, capacity 104 cubic feet," with sails made of gunnysacks. With space at a premium, Rowan left Vieta behind.

Casting off at 11 p.m., the men sailed under the big guns of a Spanish fortress and into the rough, open waters. Not long afterward, a huge wave crashed into the boat and for the rest of the night, "It was bail, bail, bail."

Nearing the Bahamas on the afternoon of May 7, the men encountered a sponging schooner and soon transferred to that ship. The next day, quarantine officers boarded the boat, took the men to Hog Island and examined them for yellow fever. By May 10, however, the U.S. counsel-general to the Bahamas, a Mr. McLean, secured the release of Rowan's party and sent the men on their way to Washington.

Once back at the capital, Rowan took the Cubans to Secretary of War Russell Alger and Gen. Nelson Miles. After listening to his report, an impressed Miles wrote to the secretary recommending that Rowan be promoted to lieutenant colonel of a volunteer regiment. He said, "Lieutenant Rowan performed an act of heroism and cool daring that has rarely been excelled in the annals of warfare."

After fighting in Cuba with the 6th Volunteer Infantry, the West Point graduate returned to the 19th Infantry with the rank of captain and served with distinction during the Philippine Insurrection. In 1909, he retired as a major.

Fame and honors

Most of Rowan's fame came from author Elbert Hubbard's 200-word tract, published in the March 1899 issue of his magazine the Philistine. Titled "A Message to Garcia," it used Rowan's exploit to show what a person could accomplish by dutifully following his superior's orders. By 1915, more than 40 million reprints of the article were in circulation both here and abroad.

In 1922, through the efforts of U.S. Sen. Howard K. Sutherland of West Virginia, Maj. Rowan received theDistinguished Service Cross "for extraordinary heroism in connection with the operation in Cuba in May 1898." That same year, the government also awarded him the Silver Star for heroism during the Jan. 8, 1900, battle on Sudlon Mountain in the Philippines.

On Jan. 11, 1943, the man who once jokingly called the Rough Riders "a bunch of publicity hounds" died at Letterman Army Hospital in San Francisco.

Garcia died on Dec. 11, 1898, at the Raleigh Hotel in Washington while on a diplomatic mission to the United States.

• Steve French is the author of "Imboden's Brigade in the Gettysburg Campaign." He can be contacted at sfrench52@yahoo.com.