Prior to the outbreak of the Spanish-American War, a years-long insurgency by nationalist Cubans against their Spanish colonial masters had riven that country.  In an attempt to undermine the Spanish-dominated sugar economy, Cuban guerillas unleashed a campaign of burning out the sugar plantations.  In response, Spanish troops on the island herded much of the rural Cuban population, 300,000 people, off their farms and into towns, where at least half of them died of disease and starvation.

President William McKinley adopted a policy of diplomatic negotiations aimed at effecting a peaceful Spanish acquiescence to Cuban independence.  He was increasingly boxed in, however, by popular outrage stoked by lurid, but often false, tales of Spanish atrocities reported in the “yellow press”—media outlets known for sensationalist or exaggerated reporting. Americans increasingly called for armed intervention to liberate the island from Spanish rule.

Then, on the evening of February 15, 1898, the battleship USS Maine suffered a massive explosion and sank in Cuba’s Havana Harbor.  Sent to Cuba to protect U.S. citizens from Spanish rioting, a threat that had never materialized, USS Maine had been peacefully moored there for three weeks before the explosion.  Of the 374 crew aboard, 266 were killed.

It has never been proven what caused the explosion.  A spontaneous combustion fire in one of Maine’s coal bunkers may have detonated an adjacent gunpowder magazine.  But a more sensationalist theory was that Maine had fallen victim to a Spanish mine anchored beneath it.  Despite the lack of firm evidence, this last hypothesis was championed by the official Navy inquiry and sensationalist headlines in the yellow press. On April 11, under tremendous pressure, President McKinley asked Congress for a declaration of war against Spain, which was granted on April 25.

On May 1, the U.S. Navy’s Asiatic Squadron, under the command of Commodore George Dewey, annihilated the Spanish Pacific Squadron at Manilla Bay in the Philippines. The Navy’s North Atlantic Squadron hoped to replicate that feat by confronting a second Spanish fleet that was sailing to Cuba.  The Spanish vessels sailed into Santiago Harbor on Cuba’s southeast coast, where they were blockaded by the American squadron.  A direct confrontation was precluded, however, by the narrow confines of the harbor, Spanish artillery sited at a harbor-entrance fortress and the unwillingness of the Spanish fleet to sortie into the open sea. The resting Spanish vessels could be re-supplied through Santiago City, located at the head of the harbor, while the patrolling American ships were subject to ongoing wear and supply strains.  Ironically, then, the initial task given to the infantry of the U.S. Army was to end a naval standoff.  It would have to cut off the Spanish fleet’s supplies by capturing Santiago.

The Army force assigned the task of defeating the Spanish troops in Cuba was known as the Fifth Army Corps, or V Corps.  It was commanded by Gen. William Rufus Shafter.  In addition to its headquarters units, the V Corps was divided into two infantry divisions, plus a cavalry division.  Fort Porter’s soldiers from the 13th U.S. Infantry Regiment were assigned to the third brigade of the first division. 

Departing from Tampa, Fl, the Americans landed unopposed on the piers and beaches of Daiquiri and Siboney, east of Santiago, on June 22 and 23.  Time was of the essence.  Shafter knew that, upon landing, his troops would be exposed to the debilitating, and often lethal, effects of yellow fever.  They had to defeat the Spaniards in short order before their ranks were thinned by tropical disease.  Direct frontal assault was the order of the day. 

With the exception of a few officers, the men of the cavalry division would fight on foot, as there had been no room on the transport ships for most of the division’s horses. On June 24, a dismounted brigade from the division advanced along the Sibony-Santiago Road. In reality, the “road” was nothing but a narrow trail through a constricting jungle.  At a rise in the trail called Las Guásimas, the brigade encountered a detachment of Spanish troops, several of whom were employed as treetop snipers.  Sixteen members of the brigade were killed and 62 wounded before the Spaniards disengaged, a clear indication of the determination and lethality of the Spanish foe. 

The rest of the V Corps laboriously followed the brigade up the trail and, after pitching tents, settled down in a three-mile-long encampment. Two miles ahead of the camp lay the San Juan Heights, a line of ridges blocking the way to Santiago City two miles further on.  Here, the American force remained inexplicably stalled while the Spanish dug in along the heights’ two ridges, an ominous development easily seen by American observers perched atop a hill called El Pozo.  Finally, after a week of inactivity, Shafter’s lethargy was broken and his forces were ordered to attack.  The plan would be for a frontal assault upon three objectives.

The first of these objectives was El Caney, where a garrison of Spanish troops threatened the right flank of the American offensive. The second division (nine infantry regiments, with support from an artillery battery and one Gatling gun) would assault the village. It was believed that this task would be accomplished in two hours, whereupon the division would reinforce the main assaults.

The bulk of the American troops would move against the two ridges that comprised the San Juan Heights. On the left was San Juan Hill, atop which stood a “pagoda-like” Spanish blockhouse.  Its capture was assigned to the nine regiments of the first division, including the third brigade’s 13th and 24th U.S. Infantry regiments, the latter being a “Colored” regiment.  The right-hand ridge was known as Kettle Hill, named for a large iron sugar-refining kettle located near its summit. Its capture was assigned to the six regiments of the dismounted cavalry division. Among that force was the 1st Volunteer Cavalry Regiment, the heralded “Rough Riders,” commanded by Lt. Col. Theodore Roosevelt. Also included in the planned assault were the “Colored” 9th and 10th U.S. Cavalry regiments.

The infantry attack on the San Juan Heights would be supported by a four-gun artillery battery located on El Pozo, and by a three-Gatling battery, commanded by Fort Porter’s Lt. John Henry Parker, sited on the infantry jumping-off line.

At 4:00 p.m. on June 30, the three American divisions advanced down the Sibony-Santiago Road toward their objectives. The going was rough on the narrow, 10-foot-wide trail. The advance was described by Richard Harding Davis, a famous war correspondent: 

Twelve thousand men [were] treading on each other’s heels in three inches of mud ... stumbling and tripping down that trail. The lines passed until the moon rose.  They seemed endless, interminable; there were cavalry mounted and dismounted, artillery with cracking whips and cursing drivers, Rough Riders in brown, and regulars, both Black and White, in blue. Midnight came and they were still stumbling and slipping forward.

At the end of their trek along the trail, the second division diverted to the right toward El Caney, while the first and cavalry divisions crossed a pair of shallow streams, then aligned themselves, shoulder-to-shoulder, regiment by regiment, facing the San Juan Heights.  

The troops had left the jungle and a basin of waist-high scrub grass intervened before the base of the heights could be reached, one-and-a-half miles away.  Crossing the open ground and then ascending the San Juan and Kettle hills under fire from the entrenched Spaniards would be a daunting enterprise.  

At 6:30 a.m. on July 1, 1898, the overall battle began with the second division’s right flank attack against El Caney.  On the left, the men of the first and cavalry divisions could hear the roar of rifle and cannon fire but did not yet advance against the San Juan Heights.  Their orders were to await reinforcement by the second division, per the established plan. They threw themselves down into the grass and amongst rearward jungle trees and prayed. The prayers were needed, as fire from the Spanish trenches atop the heights and from prepositioned treetop snipers already began to rake the prone Americans.  

At 7:00 a.m., the four American cannons positioned on El Pozo opened fire on the Spanish trenches and the blockhouse atop San Juan Hill. The bombardment was mostly ineffective, as the targets were at the extreme range of the guns.  The Spaniards responded with effective counter-battery fire and for six hours, the Americans endured a hail of rifle and cannon fire in the Cuban heat, futilely awaiting the arrival of the second division or a direct order from Shafter to advance. Having encountered stiff resistance at El Caney, however, the second division would not arrive at the San Juan Heights until noon the following day, after the battle for the hills had ended.   

Shafter, meanwhile, had lost effective command of his troops. He weighed over 300 pounds and lay prostrate, overwhelmed by heat and humidity, in a tent three miles to the rear of the engagement.  Frontline command had descended upon a staff subordinate, Colonel Edward J. McClernand, who felt constrained by the second division reinforcement plan.  It was during this period of inaction that the V Corps sustained its greatest number of casualties. “They lay on their rifles [and endured] the incessant shriek of shrapnel and the spit of the Mausers,” proclaimed Davis, the war reporter.  “As yet, with all those killed and wounded, we had accomplished nothing—except to obey orders—which was to await further orders.”  

Fort Porter’s 13th U.S. Infantry Regiment, commanded by Lt. Col. William S. Worth, was positioned left-of-center in the nine-regiment line of battle facing San Juan Hill, along with the 9th U.S. Volunteer Infantry and 24th U.S. Infantry Regiment, two units of Black “Buffalo Soldiers” who, along with the 13th, made up the third brigade.  At 12:30 p.m., Colonel Charles A. Wikoff, the brigade commander, was mortally wounded.  His post was immediately taken up by Worth. Five minutes later, a Spanish round traversed Worth’s chest from side-to-side, fracturing his right arm. According to Worth’s orderly, Corporal John Keller, who was also wounded: “I saw Colonel Worth when he was shot.  He did not fall.  His sword dropped from his right hand but he picked it up with his left and, waving it in the air, encouraged the men to press on.  Afterward loss of blood forced him to the rear.” Lt. Col. Emerson H. Liscum of the 24th then took command but was wounded shortly thereafter.  Finally, Lt. Col. Ezra P. Ewers, commander of the 9th Volunteer Infantry, assumed command of the third brigade.

By 1:00 p.m., McClernand still awaited the arrival of the second division.  Posted on El Pozo and observing events through binoculars, he was largely unaware of the extent of the bloodletting unfolding on the American battle line.  Lt. John David Miley, however, was on that line and, as aide-de-camp to General Shafter, was seen as having at least some authority.  Turning to several attendant colonels, brigadiers and major generals, he finally announced, “The Heights must be taken at all hazards. A retreat now would be a disastrous defeat.” He then gave the order to advance.  

The troops first had to cross the grassy basin before encountering the base of the heights.  As it advanced, the 13th Regiment, now commanded by Major William Auman after the departure of Col. Worth “began to fall under heavy enemy fire.”   In fact, between the clearing and the Spanish trench line at the top of San Juan Hill, a Spanish-laid impediment slowed the “charge” down to a crawl, as described by Keller:

We had eight rows of barbed wire fence to cut through to get at them.  In places the wires were twisted so as to form a cable, and our wire cutters were almost useless in such places.  We had to advance up that hill, cutting fences and firing as we went, and all in the face of a fierce fire.

“Some of the men,” another trooper reported, “would jump on the wires and hold them down till other men had passed over them.” The 13th Regiment suffered 13 killed and 91 wounded throughout the battle, the second-highest regimental casualty rate.

The war correspondent Richard Harding Davis later noted that reality failed to match the popular perception of the assault. “I have seen many illustrations and pictures of this charge on the San Juan hills, but none of them seem to show it as I remember it,” he recalled. Rather than the organized waves of men charging, bayonets fixed, up the slopes, what struck Davis the most “was that they were so few.”  Unlike the popular artwork, “they had no glittering bayonets, they were not massed in regular array.”  Instead, small groups struggled, step by laborious step, up the slopes, sometimes slipping in the smooth grass, and under an increasingly heavy fire from the enemy as they advanced.  Despite the ferocity of the Spanish defenders, however, Davis observed “the blue line crept steadily up and on, and then, near the top, the broken fragments gathered together with a sudden burst of speed, the Spaniards appeared for a moment outlined against the sky and, poised for instant flight, fired a last volley and fled before the swift-moving wave that leapt and sprang after them.”

According to The Municipality of Buffalo: A History (1923), “One of [the 13th’s] officers, Lieutenant T.M. Anderson, was said to have been the first officer to reach the crest of the hill.” But having captured the Spanish trench line, the fight on San Juan Hill was not yet over.  About 35 Spaniards still held the blockhouse immediately behind that line and they maintained a steady fire upon the advancing Americans, who were stymied by its stucco walls, heavy wooden doors and boarded-up windows. It was Anderson, then, “who led the squad of men from the Thirteenth who took the blockhouse” after a brief period of hand-to-hand fighting. Private Arthur Agnew of the 13th hauled down the Spanish colors and, by 1:50 p.m., San Juan Hill had been secured.  Of the units involved, the 13th and 24th U.S. Infantry suffered the most casualties.

The charge up San Juan Hill was a “close run thing.”  The factor that tipped the balance in favor of the Americans was the presence of the Gatling guns. As the hikers neared the summit, the Gatlings, organized and commanded by Fort Porter’s Lt. John Henry Parker, strafed the Spanish trenches with a deadly and demoralizing intensity, which allowed the final rush to take place.