Waco evening news. (Waco, Tex.) 1888-1889, 1889-03-29
RnoorLnOT1oNs
OF Ryan's Company-suagested
by the Coming Reunion OF
pat Cleburne Camp"

" Vo0 OOuAu8 SSOoAAOA VI
pat Cleburns Camp"
TO the News.
The twenty second day Of July next,
twenty.eight summers ago, Ryans'
Company, which the boys proudly
named the "Lone Star Guards, march
ed out from Waco Village to join Lee
and Stone-wa jackson. Never truer
hearts or nobler souls marched to the
beat Of drum. The writer, then but
seven years Of age, wildly recalls that
memorable day; the rich silken flag Of
blue, the jackets Of grey, the
canteens and muskets, the fife.
the drum, the gallant and manly tread,
as onward they marched to tho front.
Never truer or drawer men followed
Caesar, Here's, Alexander or Napolean.
Here was some of the best blood Of
the South offered as freely as did Abra-
ham Of old, when he placed his loved
son Isaac, upon the sacrificial altar
not, however, to appease the wrath Of
an angry God, but to repel invasion or
die for the principal Of right.
Yes, this call for us all to come and
scatter the tender flowers Of May upon
the graves of our honored Confederate
dead awakens sad train Of slumbering
recollections.
We saw the boys as they kissed their
mothers, sisters and sweet-hearts a
last goodbye; we saw the Bonnie Blue
Flag, as fresh from loving and tender
hands, it "kissed with its silken folds"
the warm and genial breezes of that
summer day. That proud banner,
which never trailed in the dust, is old
and tattered now, but deep within its
long furled folds we read Of deep con-
victions, devotion to Southern homes
the history of buried independence.
Consolation, there is, in knowing that
those who followed tho flag where bull
let's and shells were thickest and pour.
ed out their lifes' blood on thousand
well.fought battle fields for this princi-
pal Of right,-never covered the
standard of human excellence nor
stained the escutcheon of American
prowess,"
They were actuated by the self-same
inspiration which, God-like, caused
George Washington to press across the
perilous Delaware and afterwards forced
Lord CORVALLIS to pass his own
sheathed sword.
We would be recreant to a loving
trust, q sacred duty, did we fail to dec
crate with fragrant flowers the graves
Of our honored Confederate dead.
n
How we'll do we recall the familiar
faces Of Ryan, Tim Dunklin, Allen
Killingsworth, and other noble boys,
who fell early in the struggle. May the
uncaged birds Of song, the early flow
ers Of spring, the tender, unpruned
vines Of our own loved Southland-all
that breathes of love of home and
purest manhood-kecp quiet watch
shout their hallowed graves.
In decorating the graves Of our hon
ored dead on the first Tuesday in May,
we will not forget the boys who sleep
far away at Chickamauga, Manassas,
Gettysburg, Seven Pines and the vii.
derness.
But few are left now of Ryan's com.
pany-only nine out Of one hundred
and forty-and soon, too, they will
"cross over the river and rest under
the shade Of the trees" The laurels
they won are faded now. With mufled
drum and noiseless tread to the mystic
music Of burial bugles, they are march
ing on. Soon they will rejoin their old
comrades, where
"On flames eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
While glory guards In solemn round
The bivouac Of the dead"
j. r. r.
WACO, Tex, March 20, '89.