The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 44, July 1940 - April, 1941 Page: 29
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Two Texas Patriots
directed to take this to a United States mint. Realizing the
dangers of such a trip with so much money, he wrapped his
precious bundle of gold in some soiled linen, put it in an old
carpetbag, and started for Denver, Colorado. He treated the
bag with indifference, and the rough characters he met did
not suspect its value.
At Denver he struck the first railroad and started east.
Before long the train stopped to take on wood and water. A
short distance ahead were thousands of buffalo on one side of
the railroad embankment. Taking his rifle, father hurried along
the other side until he reached the buffalo and then, rising up
on the track, picked out a bull with a fine head and fired. The
next thing he remembered was "coming to" in the baggage car
of the train, with his face covered with blood. As the train
had pulled out from the station, the engineer had seen a human
form on the track, stopped, and taken him aboard. Father's
first thought was for the bag of gold. He was much relieved
when he found it hanging on a peg in the car where he had
left it. Examination of the rifle, which had been salvaged by
the trainman, showed that it had burst, and pieces of the steel
had gashed father's forehead. Continuing on by train, father
reached Chicago, where he turned in the gold to the mint and
received credit for $20,000.
From there he went to Virginia, where, on November 3, 1869,
he and mother were married at the home of her father, Dr.
George Whitfield Kemper, Madison Hall, an old house built by
the brother of President Madison near Port Republic.
The trip back to San Antonio was a trying one for the bride.
The railroads in the South, still suffering from the effects of
the war, were bad. At New Orleans they took a boat for Gal-
veston. The ship was small and the trip rough, but nothing
like so terrible as the travel by stagecoach from Galveston to
San Antonio, two hundred and fifty miles distant across the
soggy prairie. The young couple joined grandfather in a home
on Soledad Street and the three lived together until the old
man died. There I was born on September 18, 1870. It has
always been a matter of regret to me that I had no brothers
When I was four years old, I clearly remember playing on
the bank of the San Antonio River back of our home with my
chum, George Dashiell, and Della, a Negro girl who looked
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Texas State Historical Association. The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 44, July 1940 - April, 1941, periodical, 1941; Austin, Texas. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth146052/m1/37/: accessed July 26, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Texas State Historical Association.