HOME AGAIN.
From the time the Jersey coast was sighted the Troopers began to realize
how glad they really were to get back home. Early on the morning of
Saturday, September 10th, the "Mississippi" passed Sandy Hook, and was
soon cleaving the waters of New York Bay. It was rather misty, and
objects at any great distance were very obscure. The Philadelphia
cavalrymen were often obliged to smile at the airs which some of the
members of the New York and Brooklyn troops assumed as they found
themselves in familiar waters. The men of Gotham boasted much of the
fine reception which they felt sure was in store for them, and looked
rather pityingly upon the Philadelphia cavalrymen. When, through the
mist, a tug was made out, with flags flying, approaching the
"Mississippi" at full speed, several of the New Yorkers pointed to it
and said to the Quaker City men, "Here comes the advance guard of our
escort."
While the tug was still too much surrounded by mist to make out her
identity, there came floating from her deck the ringing notes of a
bugle. At the first sound the Philadelphia Troopers became all
attention, and a moment later the air of the Troop march--strains known
to City Troopers for two generations--could be clearly distinguished.
"It's our friends," shouted the City Troopers with glee, while the New
York riders did not attempt to conceal their surprise at the fact that
citizens of their city had been out-generaled by the Philadelphia
visitors in the effort to give the first greeting to the returning
Troopers.
But while the later recruits among the Troopers shouted "It's our
friends," the older members cried out, "It's Ellis Pugh," for they knew
almost by instinct from whose lips had come the welcoming blast. Dick
Singer was upon the deck with his bugle in a twinkling, and tooted back
a response. Nearer and nearer the two vessels approached, until at last
the two buglers joined together in the long final note.
Then other tugs appeared--six in all--five of which were filled with
enthusiastic Philadelphians. The Troopers crowded to the rail and
occupied all points of vantage in the rigging. Up the bay the transport
and her shrieking escort continued their course. From the whistle of
every vessel met there came a welcome, until the din became almost
deafening.
While the health officer boarded the transport, friends on the tugs and
troop ship yelled greetings back and forth. A port hole in the
"Mississippi" was opened, and an avalanche of boxes and bottles poured
into the hands of the soldiers aboard. The moment quarantine was raised,
there was a general scramble of male visitors onto the deck of the
transport, followed by a whirlwind of affectionate greetings. Fathers
proudly hugged their brawny, dirt-stained sons; chums and brothers shook
each others' hands off.
Soon there came along another tug, and Governor Hastings and Major
Richardson clambered over the rail amid loud cheers of the
Pennsylvanians. And so the big reception went on until the "Mississippi"
pulled into dock at Jersey City. There the cavalrymen looked down from
the high decks upon a sea of men and women, the great majority of whom
were Philadelphians. The hospital train was run in on a siding right
under the ship, and the sick were unloaded with but little delay.
Meanwhile, Captain Groome had accepted an invitation from the
Philadelphia Councils Committee, to participate in a public reception
upon the Troop's arrival home, and word to that effect was telegraphed
to Mayor Warwick. The Troopers partook of a light lunch before
unloading their camp equipage, and after two hours hard work the last
piece of canvas was loaded on the cars, and late in the afternoon they
finally found themselves rolling rapidly homeward.
In the New York _Sun_, the day after the City Troop's arrival, there
appeared the following paragraph by a reporter of reputation, who had
been in Puerto Rico during the campaign:
"In commissariat, general intelligence and knowledge of tactics, the
First City Troop of Philadelphia outranked any volunteers I saw at
the front. They were the only company to take a water filter with
them, so were the only men to drink pure water. They were the only
soldiers with forethought enough to provide salt, mustard and the
other little things that help make army rations palatable. Then they
knew how to cook. They kept their camp clean. They kept their horses
in good condition, in fact they neglected nothing, and shirked no
duty, no matter how disagreeable. So much for the dude soldier."
It was eight o'clock when the train bearing the City Troopers, every man
ready and fit for duty, came puffing into the Broad Street Station.
Outside the building and along Broad, Chestnut and Market Streets, the
route over which it had been planned to have the cavalrymen march, dense
throngs packed the sidewalks, and were only kept from the streets by
ropes in charge of hundreds of policemen.
[Illustration: SERGEANT'S CLUB AT GUAYAMA.]
Captain Groome was the first man to alight from the cars, and he was at
once requested by General Morrell and Director Riter to permit a street
parade of the command before going to Horticultural Hall, where a
banquet had been prepared. The Captain said his men would be pleased to
do anything the Reception Committee wished, and the line was immediately
formed for parade. Police horses had been secured and were on hand for
the Troopers.
The procession was led by a file of mounted policemen and carriages
containing the Citizen's Reception Committee, which had gone to New York
to meet the Troop. Following them came the Third Regiment Band and the
Second City Troop. Last of all came the veterans in their Khaiki
uniforms, and cheer after cheer went up everywhere as they came into
view, mingled with enthusiastic shouts of "Here comes the Rough Riders!"
Up Broad Street, through an endless multitude, the procession moved,
through brilliant displays of fireworks and past brightly illuminated
residences. On Chestnut Street the scene was repeated with the added
effect of booming cannon from the roof of the Union Republican Club.
Down Chestnut to Eighth, and up Eighth to Market, and thence to the
City Hall, the Troop passed, and when Horticultural Hall was reached the
riders had the satisfaction of knowing that they had participated in the
greatest parade ever given by the Troop in its century and a quarter of
existence.
As the Troop drew up in front of the hall, amid wild cheering, the men
dismounted and turned the horses over to the mounted police. The men
then filed into the banquet room between lines of the Battery A men, who
stood at "Present arms." While standing at their designated seats Mayor
Warwick addressed the Troopers as follows:
"Welcome home! We are here to-night to greet you with all our hearts.
God bless you, and God keep you. The Republic is proud of you, and the
city thrown open to you."
While the cavalrymen were eating, their relations and friends crowded in
upon them. There was much laughing and much hand-shaking. The men had
all been granted a sixty-day furlough, and they took their time about
punishing the good things, leaving the hall at a late hour in groups of
two's and three's--home at last.
Within a short time after their return, and before their muster-out, the
Troopers participated in a number of interesting events. Several
receptions and dinners were given in their honor by individuals and
clubs, and the one hundred and twenty-fourth anniversary of the Troop's
organization was celebrated. The cavalrymen took a leading part in the
military parade, on the second day of the Jubilee Celebration, October
27th. President McKinley reviewed the parade, and as the tradition of
the Troop required that its members should act as the President's escort
while in the city, the following Honorary members of the Troop were
appointed to act in that capacity: Captain General E. Burd Grubb,
Captain Joseph Lapsley Wilson, Captain Edmund H. McCullough, First
Lieutenant James Rawle, Second Lieutenant Major J. Edward Carpenter,
Second Lieutenant Frank E. Patterson, Second Lieutenant Edward K.
Bispham, Cornet Charles E. Kelly, Cornet Richard Tilghman, Surgeon J.
William White, Surgeon John B. Shober, Surgeon Charles H. Frazier,
Quartermaster Hugh Craig, Jr.
All of these occurrences were joyous occasions, but one day in October
the Troopers were called upon to perform a duty which saddened every
heart. On that day, for the first time since the outbreak of
hostilities, there was a voice missing at roll call which would never
respond again. Stuart Wheeler had fallen a victim to typhoid fever,
contracted while in Puerto Rico, and to the grave of this lost comrade
the Troopers marched in silent sorrow to pay the last military respects.
Mr. Wheeler had seemed in good health upon his arrival in the United
States after the campaign, and, with several friends, had gone upon a
hunting trip in the Maine woods. There the fever seized him, and he died
a few days after his removal to a Boston hospital.
Of the departed young hero, the Troopers will ever speak with affection
and praise. In college he was an unusually earnest student, on the
athletic fields he won laurels that will long remain green, at home he
was a loving son and brother, with the Troop he showed the mettle of a
gallant soldier. He died for his country--as surely as though his body
had been found on a Puerto Rican battlefield, pierced with a Spanish
bullet.
At noon on the eleventh day of November, the City Troopers gathered at
their armory to bid farewell to the United States Volunteer service.
Their sixty-day furlough had expired, and while there was not one who
would have hesitated to re-enlist should need arise, it is safe to say
that none were sorry that the moment for ending their terms as warriors
had arrived. Six men were unable to be present because of sickness.
Lieutenant B. F. Hughes, of the Tenth U. S. Cavalry, was on hand to
muster-out the men, all of whom were first obliged to report to Doctors
Spelissy and Brinton for physical examinations.
For a week preceding Captain Groome had made every preparation
calculated to expedite the work, and before the men were drawn up for
roll call, all the muster-out rolls, the descriptive lists and discharge
papers had been prepared for the mustering officer. Even the
computations of pay for each man had been figured out. As soon as each
Trooper had received his physical examination he was dismissed until the
following Monday. On the morning of that day discharge papers and pay
were ready for all the Troopers, and so far as they were concerned the
war was over.
It was not until twenty days later that the Spanish Commissioners, in
Paris, agreed to accept the American terms, and surrendered to the
United States 240,110 square miles of territory, with a population
estimated at 9,500,000. A treaty of peace between the nations was then
prepared. Practically, however, peace had existed since that day in
August when but a few minutes separated the City Troopers' _bivouac_,
in a field of flowers, from a charge which would have made desolate
hundreds of homes.
[Illustration: Decoration]
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes: Typographical errors silently corrected except
those listed below. Spelling has been made consistent throughout where
the author's preference could be ascertained.
Page 16 "less than three hours consumed, in the Troopers case," added
apostrophe "in the Troopers' case".
Page 43 "from the headquarters mules would come an answering bray," added
apostrophe "headquarter's mules."
Page 43 "these sounds appealed to the Troopers sense of humor" added
apostrophe "Troopers' sense".
Page 53 "dodging under horses heads" added apostrophe "horses' heads".
Page 68 "with their horses bridles over their arms" added apostrophe
"horses' bridles".
Page 68 "indicating the mens heighth and breadth" changed to "men's
height".
Page 101 "brothers shook each others hands" added apostrophe "each
others' hands".