Memoirs of Mrs. Florida Tunstall Sharpe

Florida Tunstall Sharpe is buried in San Antonio's National Cemetery.

                My father was Warwick Tunstall, and our home in San Antonio was near the site of the famous old Molino Blanco on St. Mary’s Street, near the Fourth Street Bridge. I lived in that house from the time I was six years old until I was in the sixties. It was a house that my father planned himself; it was a square or octagon with very unequal lines, most original. When we first came to Texas we rented a place on the river down on Commerce Street. Finally, we had to give that house up, and my father bought up the property from what is now North St. Mary’s where the bridge crosses, and from the 7^th Street Bridge to the 5^th Street Bridge. It was then a peninsula and inside of that the river turned and the house was built in the narrow part of the peninsula. This was in 1855, and I am now 89 years old; I was four when we came to Texas and six when my father bought that house.

                I first remember Colonel Robert E. Lee when I was just six years old. Lieutenant-Colonel Robert E. Lee arrived in San Antonio, Texas, in March, 1856 he passed through San Antonio en route to Ringgold Barracks. Again in March, 1857, he passed through here en route to Camp Cooper, and he lived here from July to October, 1857.  Returned again in February 20, 1860, and lived in San Antonio for nearly a year. I remember it was about the time we went to live in that house and he lived in a house diagonally across from the Gunter Hotel. It was a two-story house made of the same kind of concrete that Mexicans made their houses of and was quite unusual—because it did have two stories. The house sloped down to the river and was beautifully situated. In front of it were two large pecan trees where we used to pass with our nurse to visit a friend of Mother’s. Colonel Lee and his Aide used to sit under these same trees and he would call to us to come in and then would take me sister on one knee and me on the other, after kissing us. Then he was ordered away to the frontier to work among the Indians there. He and my father used to be very intimate friends as young men.

                The next time I remember about Colonel Lee, I was about ten years old, and I have such a vivid recollection of it. It was in ’61, February 18, and he was on his way to Washington. My father came home from the office very late. He said that he had spent all the afternoon with Colonel Lee and he had never seen a man in such deep distress. Colonel Lee had asked what he should do if it came to a fight. He was a Virginian and all his family were Sothern and still he was educated and served in the United States Army. “There is only one thing to do: and I will resign for I can’t fight against the South. I will go back to my farm in Arlington, Virginia.”

                Then the last time I remember seeing Colonel Lee I didn’t speak to him at all. It was the year that war was declared and I didn’t speak to him at all. It was the year that war was declared and he came through San Antonio. One of my sisters was very sick and Mother couldn’t leave her, and the other sister went in to say goodbye. I was out playing in the yard and had a dirty dress on. There was nobody about to change my dress, so I never got to see him. But there was a crack in to door and I peeked through it and saw him (Colonel Lee) kiss my other sister goodbye. I will never forget the feeling I had—that I wasn’t there to be kissed also. Then he went out to his house. He was riding a great big black horse. He rode out the back gate to say goodbye to some officer’s wife. I heard him go around and knock at the door while the

orderly held his horse, but he didn’t get in then. He mounted his horse and went on up the street. I stood there and watched him until he was entirely out of sight and I thought my heart strings would break as he rode further and further away.

                But that impression of Colonel Lee riding off on that black horse is just as vivid as though I had seen it today, and I felt as if my heart was being torn out of my body. I hated to see him go so badly.

After the War Between the States the Yankee troops came to San Antonio. The cholera came in the summer after the close of the Civil War and everybody went out of town who could; but since we lived out in the suburbs we all stayed at home. My Mother had lived through a terrible epidemic in Kentucky and she said, “Just eat carefully and live normally and don’t think about it.” We did that and didn’t have a case of cholera in our family.

                The Commanding Officer at San Antonio was a German. Doctor Herff was here at the time, and he was a great man. He had gone to Germany after the war, and upon returning he was the head of the whole profession. Though there were not many good doctors here then, he was really good enough to be outstanding anywhere; but when he got sick, he always had to have an Army doctor. After the Federal troops came here, we would dance the quadrillion with them; but we wouldn’t be introduced to them for they had of a society of their own. The young men would have their parties at the Menger, and, of course, the army people always went to these. Then, too, there were lots of Northern sympathizers.

                The summer after the War, cholera broke out in Texas very badly.  We had a miserable old German Commanding officer who hated everything here. The majority of the officers were not like him in that respect. Dr. Sharpe was in charge as chief surgeon of the hospital during the cholera epidemic. There were over a thousand soldiers here. They would put up their tents in the lots nearby and would install the sick there in the tents. Overnight cholera broke out in San Antonio. There were these troops stationed all over everyone’s back yards, and Doctor Sharpe being the surgeon in charge, said that they must be sent out of town. He went to a place twelve miles out (Major Tom Howard’s ranch), where the Commanding Officer was. He went to the commanding officer, this German man I spoke of, and told him that the troops had to be moved out. The officer said, “I won’t do anything of the kind.” Doctor Sharpe said, “Why, you have to. The people will die like flies. You have to do something.” On receiving another “no” in answer, Doctor Sharpe replied, “Very well, then, if you absolutely refuse to move the troops, I will go right now to give the order that there mustn’t be a soldier left in San Antonio by 12 o’clock tonight. Do you know Army regulations? Such regulations rest with the chief surgeon, so I will telegraph now to the Chief Surgeon in Washington to telegraph me an order to have all these troops removed at once. I’m going to dot it, and then I’ll send you the reply to what I’ve done.” The old Dutchman knew that he had to obey or he himself would be court-martialed; so he said, “Come back I’ll give it to you  and the soldiers can be moved out of town.” And they were out by midnight and the whole camp area was cleaned up by that time. Doctor Sharpe kept his headquarters in town and also out of town. When he came back he was put on the Board of Health right away. Doctor Herff took the greatest fancy to Doctor Sharpe now and had such faith in this ability and initiative that he trotted him around to see all of his own bad cases.

                 I finally met Doctor Sharpe at church. We had some mutual friends who were not connected with the Army. These friends arranged the meeting, and it was love at first sight if there ever was such a thing. Father’s finances were all gone and after we took this house by the river we had boarders. One couple from the North were always wanting to introduce us, but Doctor Sharpe didn’t wish to be so introduced without my parent’s permission. We were both taken home from a party and met in the same carriage without either of us knowing that the other one was to be included in the homeward ride. So we met. My brother asked Mother to invite Doctor Sharpe to supper, but he couldn’t come. He said he knew I would never care for him, so he did not want to even meet me.

                I married Doctor Redford Sharpe in ’69, when I was twenty years of age. He was nineteen years older than I was. We had been engaged for two years. We were married in San Antonio in the old house near Molino Blanco. Our next station was Fort McKavett.

We drove in an ambulance to Fort McKavett; this was an escort wagon drawn by four mules. Mrs. Kendall, Georgian Fellows, my bridesmaid, came out with some of the bridal party as far as the Kendall ranch (owned by George W. Kendall, and located near Boerne, Texas) and we left from there for Fort McKavett. On the next day at Fredericksburg we met our military escort—ten soldiers and a sergeant. The first night out of Fredericksburg we camped out at a favorite Indian camp. We had three wagons, a maid and a driver in one with our baggage; the escort; and our own wagon. Mules scent Indians as far as fifteen miles away and they will stampede.

                At night, when we camped, we corralled our three wagons and our ambulance, making a circle with the wagons facing the circle, and having the soldiers inside the circle. At twelve o’clock this first night we were in the midst of the Indian country we had a stampede by the mules. They kicked, brayed, and made a great noise. My horse broke her halter and ran away. (A friend gave me this very fine racing horse which he bought right off the race track, and I made friends with her before I actually rode her. She had only been ridden on the tracks.) She came to the ambulance where I was sleeping and I felt something working at my curtain. There was the horse’s head right on my shoulder. She refused to leave, so was tied at my wagon where she could touch me with her nose. Her name was Belle Warren. Having been a race horse she always wanted to keep ahead of every other horse so I could never ride with company. We rode side saddle in those days. Indians were within a quarter of a mile but they never bothered us. They had to have an advantage before they attacked.

                One night the guard watching the horses turned suddenly and surprised an Indian at the stables as he was about to stab him. The guard covered him with his gun and so saved the horses. I later found out that there were twelve Indians waiting outside to come on in and capture the horses. 

                When we were at Fort McKavett the hospital was built of hewn logs; and when I returned about ten years later the post had been bought and used for a ranch—and they had turned the hospital into a home. It was hauled over to the ranch and was being used just as it had been set up at Fort McKavett. A new brick hospital was put up in its place at the post. We were only stationed there one year and then were brought back to San Antonio.

                I had one narrow escape from death. It has been sixty-seven years, so the details are hard to remember. The most terrible fright I ever had was not from Indians but from cattle thieves. They branded the young calves from the large ranches. Soldiers were kept out to watch from these thieves.

                We were in the stage, General Lawton (Lieutenant Henry W. Lawton who was afterward killed in battle in the Philippines.) and I, taking my sister with me, a girl of ten years of age. Fortunately General Lawton had come into town from a leave and he heard from the stage office that I was going alone so he decided to go too. We got past a log cabin close to the road. It was headquarters of the cattle thieves and there was always trouble between the colored soldiers and these people. There was a country girl who lived in this place and she took up with a very good looking colored soldier. After she had written the soldier a letter, asking him to come to see her, he felt that it was all right. When her father discovered this, however, he killed the soldier and this act brought a lot of bad feelings. Well on this trip we drove past this log cabin where the killing had taken place. We found the cabin had been burned and there was not a soul in sight; so we knew there had been trouble of some kind for the cabin was still burning down. As we came into the nearby town we saw the cattle thieves coming out of the bushes. The doctor (apparently her husband was with Mrs. Sharp and General Lawton, although she did not mention the fact.) wanted me to get under the seat but I refused and said: “I’d rather be killed with you. I don’t want to be left alone among these hyenas.” With that I put my hand on my pistol. The men gathered around us, after which they went off and consulted together and they decided not to bother us. We got through that but we were late and had to go a mile from the station after we got to Fort McKavett. We didn’t get to the place where we usually stayed all night because we were delayed by a drunken driver and also a flood sixteen miles from the post.

[These notes were made during interviews from 1936 to 1940. Martin L. Crimmins]

Percy Metcalf Knight

Percy M. Knight died at the age of twenty-six from pneumonia. He was a young architect with Knight and McDonald. He was well known in the art community and had been instrumental in the establishment and advancement of the San Antonio Art League. Percy and his parents (William and Jane) resided at 531 Porter, in the East End. They had come from England only seven years earlier.

Alejo Guerrero Sr., Who Died

Sunday, Joined Texas Rangers

to Avenge Death of Brother

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     Funeral services for Alejo Guerrero Sr., 82, who died at the home of his son Alejo Guerero Jr., 104 Pardee Street, Sunday morning, were held Monday afternoon from San Fernando Cathedral, directly in front of which Mr. Guerrero started the first butcher shop in San Antonio, 67 years ago, at the age of fifteen years. The butcher shop was established with a large chinaberry tree as the roof, on Main Plaza. When the city market house on Market Street was built years later, Mr. Guerrero moved his shop there.

     When he was selling meat under the china tree, he never was known to cut a steak or small piece of meat, the aged man boasted. In those days, when a person wanted meat, he was sold a whole quarter at a time. Mr. Guerrero retired from active business at the age of 74.

     The signal for Mr. Guerrero to arise in the morning and prepare for the day’s work under the chinaberry tree, was not the sudden ringing of an alarm clock, but a sign which he said served the purpose just as well. It was the passing of the freighters in the early morning and the cracking of their long whips, sounding much like a pistol shot, that helped awaken early San Antonio residents.

Mr. Guerrero was born in San Antonio and made this place his life-long home. For more than 50 years he lived in his birthplace at the corner of Durango and South San Saba Streets, south of what is known as Produce Row. At the time of his death he was on a pension from having participated in wars against the Indians.

     The story of how Epitacio Guerrero, brother of Mr. Guerrero, was killed in 1865, shortly after leaving Eagle Pass for San Antonio with a cargo of freight, was told by Alejo Guerrero Jr., the son. As a result of his brother’s death at the hands of a band of Indians, Alejo Guerrero joined the Texas Rangers, who were recruiting forces to fight the Cherokees in the country below San Antonio.

News of the death of his brother was brought to Mr. Guerrero in most dramatic fashion by the only one of the band of the eight freighters murdered by the Indians, who was able to escape, although badly wounded in doing so. Two or three years after the killing, Alejo Guerrero Sr., received into his home a visitor, who told how the freighters had been slain near Eagle Pass. The man himself was the only survivor, and two or three days after informing Mr. Guerrero of the fate of his brother, he died as a result of his wounds received in the encounter.

     Vowing vengeance upon the Cherokees, the tribe which is supposed to have slain his brother, Mr. Guerrero in 1870 volunteered along with 60 other San Antonians to go on an expedition in the Indian territory.

     Mr. Guerrero is said by his son to be the last member of the group of men, the only other living man, Nick Peters, father of Charles Peters, deputy Bexar County Sheriff, having died a few years ago.

The only encounter of which the elder Guerrero told his children was one with a band of 200 Cherokees on Bear Creek, located southwest of this city. The Indians, due to such a large force as compared with the 60 Rangers, easily held their own and more, forcing the whites to retreat 30 miles. By the time that re-enforcements could be summoned, the Indians had given up their attack.

After the Indian trouble had been settled the company of which Mr. Guerrero was a member was called to Austin, where the men were discharged.

     Surviving Mr. Guerrero are: Two sons, Alejo and Epitacio Guerrero; two daughters, Mrs. Maria Morin and Mrs. Santos Alvarez; two brothers, Angel and Joaquim Guerrero, and two sisters, Miss Salome Guerrero and Mrs. Vincente McClellan.

San Antonio Express, Tuesday, 20 August 1923, page 11.

Notes on Alejo Guerrero, Sr.

Alejo Guerrero, Sr., born 18 January 1845 (Indian Wars pension record), was the son of Jose and Petra Guerrero (1850 Bexar County federal census, family number 543). Alejo’s father was one of the many cart-men in San Antonio at the time (1850 census). Alejo married Josefa Perez (Perres) at San Fernando Church on 24 September 1865 (# 501). Josefa died in 1897 (Indian Wars pension record). Alejo died on 19 August 1923 and was buried the next day at San Fernando Cemetery # 2.

Salm, Robert

March 1855 – 14 March 1898

     Robert Salm worked for the Southern Pacific Railroad at the local shops for several years before he died of pulmonary tuberculosis at the age of forty-two. His worn iron cross stands in St. Joseph’s Society Catholic Cemetery.  

     Like so many of Mr. Salm’s compatriots his place of birth is confusing. His death certificate states he was German. When he registered to vote in 1895 he gave his birth place as France. On the 1900 federal census, after his death, his wife said France. Finally, checking Robert Salm’s naturalization record of 15 October 1892 in the Bexar County Probate Minutes the question is solved. Phil[ippe]. R. Salm, born in Rouffach, France, arrived in New York on 25 January 1891. Rouffach is a historic town in the Alsace region fought over and claimed by both France and Germany for decades.

     By 1895 Robert first appears in the San Antonio city directory, as well as the City’s voter registration list. The 1900 census lists Marie, Robert’s wife, a laundry woman, and their daughter, also Marie, both having been born in France. In 1903 the city directory shows daughter Mary Salm as a clerk at the San Antonio Paste Works, and in 1905 as a stenographer at the City National Bank.

Our knowledge of Robert’s life is limited. However, we know he was involved in local politics as the San Antonio Light reported on 17 February 1896 that he was chosen as a delegate to the Bexar County Republican convention.

      Mr. Salm and his wife resided at 117 Crosby. Mary remains there after Robert’s death and is (mistakenly) listed as Mary Salm in 1903 when the city directory gives her address as 214 Dakota.

Mistaken because Marie (Mary) Salm married Robert Doering on 2 February 1901 (Bexar County, number 18418).The house on Dakota was that of Robert Doering and his family. He had been married to Emelie, nee Dielmann (Thielemann).

      Marie Salm Doering passed on 15 January 1929 and, like Robert Salm, buried in Saint Joseph’s Catholic Cemetery.

Firemen's Rest in City Cemetery # 4

Firemen’s Rest for Members Who “Go On Before”

Is Their Tribute

Situated to the left of the entrance of City cemetery No. 4 there is a little plot of ground that has undergone a remarkable change during the last few weeks. This particular spot, measuring 30x30 feet, is what is known as the “Firemen’s Rest.”

            In this lonely, but none the less beautiful spot, the members of the present San Antonio fire department expect to be laid to rest when the grim reaper summons them to respond to their last alarm. The little plot already contains the remains of four comrades, who have hearkened to the last call of their Highest Chief.

Three months ago the members of the fire department decided that it would be appropriate to prepare a last resting place for those members who may be taken from this life and each unhesitatingly donated their might toward its accomplishment.

            A committee composed of Captain S. G. Merrit, First Assistant Chief W. P. Bishop, Captain W. J. Robbins and Fireman T. J. Dornstein and Daniel Coleman were selected to carry out the active work, looking towards the improvement of the little plot.

            Weeks of toil on the part of this committee followed and as a culmination of their efforts, there has risen one of the most beautiful spots to be found within the quiet precincts of the city of the tombs. Surrounding the little tract of land is a rock wall surmounted by a neat iron fence.

            The lot was donated to the fireman by the City five years ago. In building the rock fence about it the firemen were compelled to haul the rock from the rock quarry, a distance of almost three miles. This they did themselves whenever the opportunity was there. With the funds subscribed by the members, the committee purchased the cement and themselves formed the concrete which went into the rock wall. The iron fence was donated.

            While the work of erecting the fence itself was completed, the committee is still at work beautifying the plot, and it is the purpose to level the land and after sodding it and covering the grass, to station additional evergreen trees at points and to erect a simple slab over the remains of their departed comrades.

            Lying in this enclosure are the remains of John Grover, who met death by the falling of a ladder while fighting the flames; Fred Strauss, whose tragic end came while driving an engine along River avenue, when the engine fell and toppled over a steep embankment, just north of Grand avenue; William Lemmons, driver of company No. 6 whose demise resulted after a protracted illness and those of Nat Scruggs, former lieutenant of company No. 8, whose death occurred recently during a runaway accident.

            Captain S. G. Merrit has been chosen custodian of the plot with Assistant Fire Chief Bishop, Captain Robbins and Firemen Dorstein and Coleman as supervisors.

This article appeared in the San Antonio Light on Sunday, 13 September 1908.

Death of Robert Cayle

     The day before yesterday, Robert Cayle, a Mexican War veteran, and an old citizen of San Antonio, was upon our streets. He had been drinking to excess and at last accounts was observed in a very intoxicated condition. During the evening he fell upon the sidewalk, sustaining injuries which soon resulted in his death. His funeral will occur at 3 o’clock this evening from his residence in the fourth ward.

     Robert Cayle was an Englishman by birth, and the son of a Presbyterian minister of Darlington, England. When a mere boy, he ran away from home, stowed himself away in the hold of a vessel, and eventually landed in America. Finding his way to Texas when a republic, he linked his labors with those who struggled for the independence of this country, and won the honors of a brave soldier. After the war had ended, he married a Spanish lady and settled in San Antonio. A few days ago he was informed that a letter from his old English home was in the hands of one of our citizens, to be opened and [r…….] conditions. Upon receiving this news, Cayle concluded that he had inherited a fortune, either from his father, or an uncle, both of whom were very wealthy. In an elated state of mind however, and before he had an opportunity to realize his anticipations, he took to drink and [l..] his end is reached.

San Antonio Daily Express, 12 January 1879

The death notice above refers to a marriage between Robert Cayle (Caile) and “a Spanish lady.”  That lady was Dolores San Miguel based on the 1880 census and baptismal records of their children. Baptismal records have been found in the records of San Fernando Church for five children. These include Robert William born 25 May 1859 (baptized 6 August 1859), William James born 20 July 1861 (baptized 21 October 1861), Carolina born 30 December 1865 (baptized 4 May 1866), Dolores Adela born 14 December 1869 (baptized 30 November 1870), and Ana Elena born 17 January 1872 (baptized 30 April 1872). According to City of San Antonio death records William died of spinal meningitis on 6 February 1882, and Lola (Dolores Adela) died of pneumonia on 23 March 1891.

As noted above Robert passed in 1879. Afterward, in 1894, Lola sold their house on East Nueva Street to Jacob Hotz. The family appears to have moved to Galveston where she ran a boarding house. This is based on the 1900 census where Lola Caile, a widow, and twenty-five year old daughter, Mary J [?], whose father was born in England, are living.

During the Civil War Robert served as a private in Company B of the Texas Reserve Corps until he was paroled on 1 September 1865.

The Caile House, 526 East Nueva, was probably built shortly after Robert purchased the property, lots 7 and 8, in 1857 for a total of $360. The house was expanded later. For a very good history of the property see An Archaeological Assessment of the Alderete House Property published by the Center for Archaeological Research (UTSA) in 1978. Annual tax records (1837 to 1910) are available in the Texana/Genealogy department of the San Antonio Public Library. Deeds are available online from the Bexar County Clerk’s website.

An interesting sidelight comes from Beadle’s Dime Library, volume 1, number 3. The issue by Major S. S. Hall (Buckskin Sam) is entitled Kit Carson, Jr., The Crack Shot of the West: A Romance of the Lone Star State and includes several references to Caile. (The one above is from page 5.) Part of the story’s action takes place in San Antonio. Among the references are the following. On page six “…but I met Bob Caile, Shipley, and Bill Rodgers agoin’ to the lake,…” Also, on page nine “… Clown had been huntin’ with Bob Caile, Shipley, and Bill Rodgers.”

According to the burial record, 61 year old, Robert Caile was buried in City Cemetery Number 1 in grave number 71. Unfortunately, he apparently had no gravestone, and we do not know where early burials by number, instead of section and lot numbers, may have been located.

"Uncle John" Lewis

“Uncle John” Lewis is dead. He was one of the landmarks of this city. Coming here long before a railroad was build or was thought of being built in this section, he drove a stage coach years, and long after the railroad came into San Antonio he drove one of the large buses for the Carter-Mullaly Transfer company (1).

            “If I was an artist and wanted to paint a picture of Uncle Sam I would have John Lewis pose for me, and I’d bet that a better likeness of Uncle Sam, as he is generally pictured, could not be found,” said the late Joe Cooley (2) as he saw “Uncle John” drive up on the bus on a return trip from the depot when Cooper Register (3) was one of the principal gathering places in San Antonio. Those who knew John Lewis will say that Joe Cooley’s description was accurate. There is not a wagon road in west Texas that John Lewis was not acquainted with and he drove over them in his old stage coach long enough to know every tree and rock along them.

            It was while he was driving a stage coach that John Lewis had many thrilling  experiences. He almost regarded it as a pastime to be held up on a trip by robbers or attacked by Indians. He could recite experiences which would have put a war correspondent on Easy street for the rest of his days.

            John Lewis was 76 years of age at the time of his death. He died yesterday in the city hospital (4). During his illness he was affectionately regarded by the employes [sic] of the Carter-Mullaly company and they contributed to his maintenance. They frequently visited him and saw that he wanted for nothing. He appreciated it, and he always warmly thanked the boys when they called on him.

            Arrangements for the funeral are being made today. The remains are at the chapel of the San Antonio Undertaking company (5), where many who have known him in life are today viewing them.

(from the San Antonio Light, 9 July 1908, page 9)

(1)               Carter-Mullaly Transfer Company was started in June of 1881 by Henry Carter and Thomas Mullaly. It consisted of three departments: transfer line for passengers and baggage; livery and stable service, and hacks; and undertaking services. By 1885 it claimed to be the largest provider of all such services in the State of Texas.

(2)               Joe Cooley, born in New Hampshire in 1865, ran a saloon. His wife Kattie (born 1869 as Catherine Mahoney) was also from New Hampshire. They were married on 2 January 1888 in Dover, New Hampshire. On 10 April 1896 he and Herman A. Goebel applied for a patent for a “refrigerating apparatus” which was approved on 19 Jan. 1897 as patent number 575,594. According to New Hampshire death records (FamilySearch.org) Joe died in San Antonio on 24 April 1901.

(3)               Unidentified at this time.

(4)               The City Hospital was located at 515 Morales at this time.

(5)               Dan Delaney was president of this company which was at 401 E. Houston (San Antonio city directory, 1907-08).

 

Two notes should be mentioned here. First, the tern "uncle' was often used in the past to designated an elder in the community, and not a blood relationship. Second, as noted below Uncle John Lewis was buried in the Lutheran cemetery. It is believed this is the Old German Lutheran Cemetery.A friend and member of St. John's Lutheran Church checked the records for all three Lutheran churches at the time and found that he is listed in Record Book 2, page 155, entry 33.  It reads

"John Lewis, Age 76, hack driver, died July 9, 1908.  Buried in Row __, Lutheran Cemetery, July 10."   Uncle John Lewis does not have a gravestone, so we don't know where he's buried.

John Lewis Funeral

Following the remains of the veteran stage and bus driver of this city, John Lewis, to the grave, was the team and bus that he drove to and from the railway depots so often. The funeral of John Lewis took place yesterday afternoon from the chapel of the San Antonio Undertaking company, and was attended by employes [sic] of the Carter-Mullaly Transfer company, headed by President H. E. Hildebrand (1).

            Services were conducted by Rev. O. Hartmann (2), of St. John’s German Lutheran church, and the interment was in the Lutheran cemetery. The pall bearers were A. G. Bennett (3), W. A. Lowther (4), John Evans (5), R. M. McDonald (6), John Smith (6) and Alex Masson (7).

From the San Antonio Light, 11 July 1908, page 3 [3], col. 5 (bottom)

(1) Hildebrand resided at 119 E. Craig Place and the 1907-08 San Antonio city directory lists him as vice-president of Carter-Mullaly.

(2) The Reverend Ossian Wilhelm Hartmann was born in Kleinwasach, Baveria on 27 September 1852. After coming to the United States he received both theological and medical degrees and first served the Lutheran Church in Iowa. He came to San Antonio in 1903, remaining at St. John’s Lutheran Church until shortly before his death on 18 October 1915. (obituary in San Antonio Light, 18 October 1915)

(3) Anson G. Bennett lived at 1231 So. Alamo at the time and was a clerk for Carter-Mullalay. (1907-08 San Antonio city directory)

(4) William A. Lowther and his wife Verna H. lived at 208 Bowie according to the1907-08 San Antonio city directory where he is listed at superintendent of Carter-Mullaly. Both were born in New York. He is listed as 46 years old and she as 36 (1910 census for Bexar County).

(5) The 1907-08 San Antonio city directory lists him as assistant superintendent at Carter-Mullaly. He and his wife Elizabeth lived at 320 Bowie.

(6) McDonald and Smith are not identified at present.

(7) Alexander Masson immigrated from Scotland in 1879 or 1880 where he was born in May, 1849. Callie, his wife was born in Mississippi in March, 1851. The 1900 federal census notes that their son Harvey was born in August of 1893, the only surviving child of the two Callie bore during her eighteen years of marriage up to that time. In both the 1907-08 San Antonio city directory and 1900 and 1910 censuses Alex is listed as being in the grain business.