1901 (6 page)

Patrick knew that the major units of the regular army, and the better-trained units of volunteers, were, in large part, in the Philippines, fighting the Moro insurrectionists. The remaining regular units were located primarily in the West, near the Indian reservations and along the border with Mexico.

With that the issue of the army was resolved, although to no one’s satisfaction. They then turned to the status and whereabouts of the navy. Unfortunately, neither the secretary of the navy nor any ranking naval officer had yet been located. Roosevelt, however, had once been assistant secretary of the navy and, with his continued interest in naval affairs, had a fair idea of its whereabouts.

“One squadron is in the Philippines,” Roosevelt said. “With another squadron in or about Cuba, and a handful of remaining ships at Norfolk, Boston, Brooklyn, San Francisco, or on solo cruises.”

Hay sat back in a comfortable chair. “So, what do we do now?”

Before anyone could answer, another telegram was handed to McKinley, who read it and passed it to Roosevelt. “German infantry are now in Brooklyn and appear headed for the waterfront. The German ships are heading for the docks as well.” The German army in Brooklyn? It seemed almost ludicrous, Patrick thought. Might they stop at Coney Island?

Miles stood. His face was florid. “Well, now it becomes obvious. They are going to take the docks and disembark a major force under the protection of their naval guns!”

To Patrick, it sounded very similar to what he had suggested might happen the day before. He caught Roosevelt’s eye and, despite the tension in the room, the man winked slightly. Patrick realized that it is sometimes a shame to be proven right.

McKinley waved a limp hand. All the weakness of the earlier part of the day appeared to return. “Theodore, what should we do?” His voice was almost a whine, and Patrick shuddered.

Roosevelt put his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest. “Do? We must defeat them. But first we must find out more precisely what is occurring. The only reports we are getting are from hysterical politicians and irresponsible newspapers. I propose we send our own observers to New York to report back on the facts and not on the rumors. In the meantime, I suggest we ask the states and Congress to give us control of the local National Guard units before something awful happens to them. At the same time I would like General Miles to take command of the guard and alert what regular units we have to be available and ready for a possible move to New York.”

Hay nodded. “And what about those observers? How many and who?”

Roosevelt grinned maliciously. “For the time being, one.” He laughed, more of a bark than a laugh, and pointed at Patrick. “Him!”

The others looked at Patrick, who had been silent for some time and who could only nod agreement. It was logical. He had no command responsibilities and would not be missed. He was also intrigued at the thought of heading north to where the action was.

Roosevelt quickly sent a messenger to the train station to commandeer an engine and a caboose for a high-speed run to New York, about two hundred miles away. They hoped Patrick could be there in about ten hours, allowing for the inevitable turmoil.

Roosevelt was concerned about the rumors of panic and chaos within the city, and he gave Patrick the names of friends to contact who could provide places to stay. “I think the hotels will be in a state of uproar. Besides, I wish you to remain an anonymous observer for as long as possible. That reminds me, I think it best you travel in civilian clothes.”

Isn’t this where I came in? Patrick thought. Civilian clothes again? Perhaps this time they’ll be more presentable, thanks to the White House domestics. Of course, clothes are a silly thing to be concerned about under the circumstances. Interesting the way the mind works.

“One last thing, Patrick, and I think the president will concur. My own experience tells me that a mere major will not be taken seriously when it comes time for him to identify himself as a presidential emissary. Since I also believe that the military will be greatly expanding, I propose you be the first beneficiary of this sad fact. Mister President, I suggest you promote Major Mahan immediately to the rank of full colonel. Temporary rank, of course.”

McKinley looked at General Miles. “Your thoughts, General?”

When Roosevelt first made the suggestion, Miles looked as though he would explode. But then logic set in and he quickly realized what could happen to the current commanding general of an army that might just grow many times its current size. He smiled, almost benignly, as he contemplated the possibility of a grateful Congress and the president granting him the fourth star of a full general. It would be the crowning achievement of his long career. “I concur, Mr. President. Congratulations, Colonel Mahan, and godspeed.”

I
N THE
S
CHUYLER
apartment, four floors above the East River, Patrick sipped a cup of excellent coffee and took in the scene below where a German cruiser insolently and unbelievably patrolled, its turreted guns pointed skyward from its sleek gray deck. The white-uniformed crew was in plain sight and walked about the decks as if on a holiday.

It was Wednesday; the supposed short and quick run to New York City on a commandeered train had taken more than twice as long as anticipated, presidential orders or not. Transportation in and out of the city was chaotic. Many unscheduled trains fled filled with the first rush of what were bound to be many refugees, while stationmasters along the way tried to juggle rights-of-way to avoid disaster. Patrick knew of at least one head-on collision and many dead and injured. It sobered him and made it more logical that he arrive safely and alive rather than early.

He recalled that yesterday, Tuesday afternoon, had found him in Jersey City, his view of the events largely blocked by Manhattan. He did think, however, that some of the silhouettes on the water were those of the enemy. The Jersey shore was full of people craning their necks to see the wondrous and terrifying event: the Germans had invaded.

The ferries that transported mobs of people from Manhattan Island to New Jersey had to return to pick up more passengers, so finding transportation across the river was no great chore. Once Patrick was on Manhattan, however, getting to his destination—the residence of Jacob Schuyler—proved impossible until the driver of a carriage succumbed to the temptation of a ten-dollar gold piece. For the duration of the ride, Patrick sat in the back with his right hand firmly around the handle of a revolver, which he let the driver glimpse on more than one occasion.

The narrow city streets were filled with angry, sullen people, and fights broke out frequently. The carriage wheels crunched through broken glass; many store windows had been smashed and shops plundered. He was glad he had not worn his uniform. It likely would have made him a focus of the crowd’s anger, which, justifiably, centered on the government’s inability to prevent the travesty occurring before their eyes.

He saw a body lying facedown in a puddle. Two small children stood by, fascinated. “Looter,” said the driver.

“Where in God’s name are the police?” Patrick asked.

“Protectin’ the rich people. Where the hell else would they be?” He laughed harshly. “Don’t worry none. You’ll be safe where you’re goin’.”

When Patrick had arrived the night before at the Schuyler apartments, armed with a letter of introduction from their good friend Theodore Roosevelt, he was disappointed to find that Jacob Schuyler was out of town. His daughter, Katrina, was at home and assigned him a room that overlooked the East River. When he was told the Schuylers had apartments, he hadn’t known what to expect. Certainly not the thirty rooms they occupied, along with their several servants.

Nor was Katrina what he had expected, given such a totally Dutch name. He’d thought of her as a blond dumpling with blue eyes and a vapid, giggly personality. But instead of being plump, Katrina was slender, almost thin. She stood slightly over average height but appeared taller because of her thinness and because she carried herself very straight, with almost military precision, and dressed quite primly. She was also a little older than he had expected. He guessed that she was in her late twenties or early thirties, a spinster and well over marriage age. She appeared distraught, tired, alone, and concerned.

At least he’d been right about the blond hair and the bluish eyes, Patrick thought as he sipped his morning coffee and wondered what the new day would bring.

“Good morning, Colonel. Is the view to your satisfaction?”

Patrick placed his coffee cup on a table and turned. “Hardly, Miss Schuyler. I find it most depressing.”

She nodded. “Now you know how I’ve found it over the past couple of days. To be honest, I am delighted you are here even though I might not have shown it very well last night. There was that horrid feeling that we—that is, everyone in New York—had been abandoned. What with the explosions of Sunday night and the invasions and the mobs of looters, my world has been a nightmare.”

Of course, he thought, and that would have accounted for her distracted and confused behavior of yesterday. He had to admit she looked far less unattractive, although now, rested and under control, there was an air of formidability that he hadn’t noticed. While she was far from a beauty—her face was thin, her nose a little long, and he hadn’t yet seen her smile—he found her looks interesting. Interesting—now there’s a word to be damned with, he thought.

“And what ship is that?” she asked, looking at the German cruiser.

“Her name is the
Hela,
a small cruiser.”

“Not a battleship? Are we so insignificant that we don’t even rate a battleship?”

He told her the larger ships were doubtless out at sea or in the harbor keeping a watch for the American navy.

She gestured to the table. “You’ve read the morning papers, I see. Anything of note?”

“Other than a level of vitriol against things German, there is a wide divergence of opinion. The Hearst paper wants us to invade Germany, while the others call for the army to do its job immediately. They seem to forget we don’t have that much of an army. There are hints that McKinley should resign or be impeached for letting this happen to us.”

She pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. “This is for you.”

Surprised, he opened it. Inside were the insignia of a colonel in the U.S. Army. “They belong to my father,” she explained. “He wore them against Spain, although he never left the city.” She laughed, and he saw she did have nice teeth and a pleasant smile. “You said last night how quickly you’d been rushed here, and I thought you might find these useful when it comes time to show your true colors.”

He stammered his thanks.

“So, sir, now that the army’s here and in full control, what are your plans for disarming the Germans and driving them off? I wish to tell Mr. Hearst.”

Damn, was she making fun of him? Her mouth was set again but her eyes were laughing. He drew himself to his full height and stood at attention. “Miss Schuyler, I intend to rent a small boat, paddle over, and inform them that they must leave or pay the consequences. The American army shall not be trifled with.

“Seriously, my plans are to go to the waterfront and observe what I can. I will be leaving shortly and, with your permission, hope to return early this afternoon. I already used your telephone to contact my superiors in Washington.”

“Is that safe? Using the phone, I mean. Couldn’t an operator overhear you?”

“Yes, but it’s a chance we have to take. There were some precautions to at least forestall that. For instance, the number I call is answered as the Windsor Hotel, even though it goes directly to the White House war room.”

That struck both of them as just a little funny under the circumstances. Katrina, however, became serious very quickly. “When you go observing, I will go with you.” When he started to protest, she waved him silent. “Please note that I am not asking your permission, Colonel, I am telling you what I will do. We will take my carriage, and two of my servants, armed, for additional protection. Believe me, sir, it is very important that I see what is actually happening. My family has been in this town, in this area, for many, many generations. I feel so angry that I will not be deterred.”

Patrick resigned himself to her company and, shortly, they began moving down streets that paralleled the East River. He was gratified to see that the hysteria of the preceding day had subsided and that the crowds, although excited, were not in a state of panic. It was also, he realized, far too early in the day for them to be liquored up.

A number of armed men in uniform, obviously local militia, had taken control of the streets and were enforcing order. A couple of quick conversations between Katrina and officers whom she appeared to know told them both that at least three regiments were bivouacking in Central Park and were trying to anticipate the Germans’ next move. One young officer also added that many heavy wagons were being assembled and, once loaded, would be sent under the heaviest possible guard to the ferries and across to safety in New Jersey. Their contents would be the money and bullion from the banks as well as the stocks and other valuables necessary to keep America’s financial world operating.

The officer was not thrilled at the prospect. “I’m afraid the same people who’ve done so much looting will realize what’s in the wagons, and a mob will try to overwhelm them.” He shook his head. “Even though the governor has ordered at least one regiment to guard the wagons, I’m afraid there will be fighting and rioting before we get them to safety. A lot of people could be killed.”

Patrick agreed. “But we can’t leave all this for the Germans to take if they come across or decide to seal off the island, can we?” responded Patrick, who was appalled that a junior officer knew of the plans and was so blithely informing people of them. There was no secrecy.

“No, we can’t, mister. Lord, what a mess.” With that, he excused himself and let Patrick and Katrina continue on.