The Surrender of Santiago / An Account of the Historic Surrender of Santiago to General / Shafter, July 17, 1898

AN ACCOUNT OF THE HISTORIC SURRENDER OF SANTIAGO TO GENERAL SHAFTER JULY 17, 1898
by FRANK NORRIS
SAN FRANCISCO PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY NINETEEN SEVENTEEN
Copyright, 1913, 1917 by Otis F. Wood

or two days we had been at the headquarters of the Second Brigade (General McKibben's), so blissfully contented because at last we had a real wooden and tiled roof over our heads that even the tarantulas—Archibald shook two of them from his blanket in one night—had no terrors for us.
The headquarters were in an abandoned country seat, a little six-roomed villa, all on one floor, called the Hacienda San Pablo. To the left of us along the crest of hills, in a mighty crescent that reached almost to the sea, lay the army, panting from the effort of the first, second and third days of the month, resting on its arms, its eyes to its sights, Maxim, Hotchkiss and Krag-Jorgenson held ready, alert, watchful, straining in the leash, waiting the expiration of the last truce that had now been on for twenty-four hours.

That night we sat up very late on the porch of the hacienda, singing The Spanish Cavalier —if you will recollect the words, singularly appropriate— The Star-Spangled Banner, and
'Tis a way we had at Caney, sir, 'Tis a way we had at Caney, sir, 'Tis a way we had at Caney, sir, To drive the Dons away,
an adaptation by one of the General's aides, which had a great success.
Inside, the General himself lay on his spread blankets, his hands clasped under his head, a pipe in his teeth, feebly applauding us at intervals and trying to pretend that we sang out of tune. The night was fine and very still. The wonderful Cuban fireflies, that are like little electric lights gone somehow adrift, glowed and faded in the mango and bamboo trees, and after a while a whip-poor-will began his lamentable little plaint somewhere in the branches of the gorgeous vermilion Flamboyana that overhung the hacienda.