His boots and spurs were
reversed across his horse. The fine gray charger, caparisoned in
mourning, was led by two black servants, dressed in white, their turbans
trimmed with black.
The military escorted him in single file, with trailing arms, the band
playing "The Dead March in Saul," minute guns from the Artillery in the
Park answered by the British and French warships in the harbour. But for
the solemn music, its still more solemn accompaniment, the tolling of
muffled bells, and the heavy tramp of many feet, there was no sound;
even women of an hysterical habit either controlled themselves or were
too impressed to give way to superficial emotion. When the procession
after its long march reached Trinity Church the military formed in two
columns, extending from the gate to the corners of Wall Street, and the
bier was deposited before the entrance. Morris, surrounded by Hamilton's
boys, stood over it, and delivered the most impassioned address which
had ever leapt from that brilliant but erratic mind. It was brief, both
because he hardly was able to control himself, and because he feared to
incite the people to violence, but it was profoundly moving.
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