San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-11-28

upon the silent city, covering 1t like a
pail. From north and south, from east
and west, battalions and batteries, ma
tional and state, have been concentrate
ing to take part in the last honors to the
illustrious chief, and dripping, yet dis
ciplined, without the stir of martial
music, the men have marched from the
trains to the rendezvous assigned them
about the town.
At last the hour has come. The weep
ing skies have checked their tears. The
streets and sidewalks along the line of
l march swarm with citizens, whose hush
ed voices and ~reverent mica speak elo-
q~uently Of their sense of the national
loss. From many a stately mansion
and modest homestead out beyond the
business section festoons of black are
fiuttering in the rising breeze, the flag i;
twined with Grape, the windows, bal
comics and steps are alive with spec
tators. And, far ont on the west
ward avenue, on "a sheltered portico that
projects from a solid, old fashioned res
idence of cut stone and almost over
hangs the street, there is gathered a lit
tie bevy of fair forms and faces which
we saw together for the first time that
Indian summary afternoon of the recep-
ton at Pawnee.
The rapid trot of orderlies and
mounted police, sent ahead to warn the
populace off the street and back to the
sidewalk, and the distant waiting of
cavalry trumpets far down the avenue,
have told that now the funeral column
is approaching; and from the warmth
of the coy parlor, well wrapped in
mantles and furs, the ladies have come
forth into the chilly February day
Mrs. Berrien, Mrs. Holden and her chill
dren; Winifred, whose soft cheeks are
aglow and whose dark eyes turn instant
ly, eagerly toward the head of the ad-
vancing escort: Mia Guthrie, pallid,
lanquid when unobserved by her guests,
yet Frightening instantly, bravely, when
addressed, and striving to be her old
gracious, radiant self for the sake of
these and other visitors from Pawnee-
for the Twelfth has been detailed es-
pecially to lead the escort of the great
commander, and all the way from the
frontier and only a few days home from
the stirring scenes of its fierce campaign
The regiment has been brought hither by
the orders of a general who knows their
worth as well he knows their wrongs
$1,000 ----
and whose soldier heart has felt for them
in all their trials.
1t was in his power to give this honor
to others, but though his own old regi-
ment is within easy call, he means that
the people shall see for themselves what
manner of men are these whom press
and pulpit have assailed, and against
whose fair fame the shafts of Islander
have been hurled, only to fall blunted
and broken or, like boomerangs, come
hurting back about the ears of the
thrower. INDICATED by the verdict of
his peers, doubly indicated by the
highest powers of the land, gray haired
Farquhar is chosen to command the es-
cOrt, and, though the flower of the ma
TONS soldiery marches in the funeral
train this day, the eyes of all the gath
cred throng are strained to see and hail
and honor the standard and the guidons
of the men who bore the brunt of battle
only two short months gone by.
And with the squadrOns and the guns
from Pawnee came such of the wounded
officers as were well enough to be trans
ported hither, and with them half a
dozen of the ladies of the garrison. To
the huge delight of TIE old battalion,
two of whose troops are cruelty thinned
in numbers now, the jovial major is per-
mitted by DR.. Holden to mount "Old
Glory" and take his position in front of
the line. To the tremulous joy of Wini-
fred Berrien, Mr.. Brewster has tele-
graphed from Washington, whittier he
was summoned Immediately after the
close of the investigation at the agency,
bidding them bring his horse and equip
ments, for even though he cannot draw
saber he means to ride with 1.-The black
troop" on this day of days. She has not
seen him since that wonderful morning
when, like a young nov king, he burst
through the tleecy barriers about them
and stood before her rejoicing eyes their
rescuer, her fathers preserver, her lover,
her hero; and ever since in his pride he
has held alOof from her and all she
holds dear. She can hardly hush the
futtering Of her heart as now, near at
hand, she hears the familiar strains of
the trumpets of the Twelfth, still sound
ing the mournful dead march. Other
ladies of the Twelfth are here-Mrs.
Hazlett, Mrs. GOrham and Mrs. War
rem; and small wonder can there be that
their soft eyes fill with tears. Ever since
the brief and bloody campaign the sad,
solemn tones have been their daily
music. The Grape is not yet rusting on
the sword hits of their lords, worn in
J honor of poor Thorpe and Rand and