Remember the Alamo [112]
with the
most blessed indifference, a minute at a time. They will join
us on the Plaza. I represented to them that they might miss
a good position. `That has been already secured,' said Lopez,
with that exasperating repose which only the saints could
endure with patience. For that reason, I consider Antonia a
saint to permit it. As for me, I should say: `The house is
on fire, Lopez! Will it please you for once to feel a little
excited?' Luis says they read, continually, books which make
people think of great solemnities and responsibilities.
How foolish, when they are so rich, and might enjoy
themselves perpetually!"
"Here are the carriages," cried Thomas Worth, "and the
ceremony of to-day has its own hour. It will never come
again."
"Your mother and I will go first, Thomas; and we will take
Abbie and your eldest son. I shall see you in your place.
Luis, bring your boy with you; he has intelligence and will
remember the man he will see to-day, and may never see again."
On the Plaza, close to the gates of the Alamo, a rostrum had
been erected; and around it were a few stands, set apart for
the carriages of the most illustrious of the families of San
Antonio. The Senora, from the shaded depths of her own,
watched their arrival. Nothing could be more characteristic
than the approach of her daughters. Antonia and Lopez,
stately and handsome, came slowly; their high-stepping horses
chafing at the irrestraint. Luis and Isabel drove to their
appointed place with a speed and clatter, accentuated by the
jingling of the silver rings of the harness and the silver
hanging buttons on the gay dress of the Mexican driver. But
the occupants of both carriages appeared to be great
favorites with the populace who thronged the Plaza, the
windows, the flat roofs of the houses, and every available
place for hearing and seeing.
The blue flag of Texas fluttered gayly over the lovely city;
and there was a salvo of cannon; then, into the sunshine and
into the sight of all stepped the man of his generation.
Nature has her royal line, and she makes no mistakes in the
kings she crowns. The physical charm of Houston was at this
time very great. His tall, ample, dignified form attracted
attention at once. His eyes penetrated the souls of all
upon whom they fell. His lips were touched with fire, and his
words thrilled and swayed men, as the wind sways the heavy
heads in a field of ripe barley.
He stretched out his arms to the people, and they stretched
out their arms to him. The magnetic chain of sympathy was
complete. The hearts of his listeners were an instrument, on
which he played the noblest, most inspiring, the sweetest of
melodies. He kindled them as flame kindles dry grass.
He showed them their future with a prophet's eye, and touched
them also with the glad diviner's rapture. They aspired,
they rejoiced at his bidding; and at the moment of their
highest enthusiasm, he cried out:
"Whatever State gave us birth, we have one native land and we
have one flag!" Instantly from the grim, blood-stained walls
of the fortress, the blessed Stars and Stripes flew out; and
in a moment a thousand smaller flags, from every high place,
gave it salutation. Then the thunder of cannon was answered
by the thunder of voices. Cannon may thunder and make no
impression; but the shout of humanity! It stirs and troubles
the deepest heart-stream. It is a cry that cannot be
resisted. It sets the gates of feeling wide open. And it was
while men were in this mood that Houston said his last words:
"I look in this glorious sunshine upon the bloody walls of the
Alamo. I remember Goliad. I carry my memory back over the
long struggle of thirty years. Do you think the young, brave
souls, fired with the love of liberty, who fell in this long
conflict have forgotten it? No! No! No! Wherever in God's
Eternity they are this day, I believe they are permitted to
know that Texas has become part of their country, and
rests forever under the flag they loved. The shouting
most blessed indifference, a minute at a time. They will join
us on the Plaza. I represented to them that they might miss
a good position. `That has been already secured,' said Lopez,
with that exasperating repose which only the saints could
endure with patience. For that reason, I consider Antonia a
saint to permit it. As for me, I should say: `The house is
on fire, Lopez! Will it please you for once to feel a little
excited?' Luis says they read, continually, books which make
people think of great solemnities and responsibilities.
How foolish, when they are so rich, and might enjoy
themselves perpetually!"
"Here are the carriages," cried Thomas Worth, "and the
ceremony of to-day has its own hour. It will never come
again."
"Your mother and I will go first, Thomas; and we will take
Abbie and your eldest son. I shall see you in your place.
Luis, bring your boy with you; he has intelligence and will
remember the man he will see to-day, and may never see again."
On the Plaza, close to the gates of the Alamo, a rostrum had
been erected; and around it were a few stands, set apart for
the carriages of the most illustrious of the families of San
Antonio. The Senora, from the shaded depths of her own,
watched their arrival. Nothing could be more characteristic
than the approach of her daughters. Antonia and Lopez,
stately and handsome, came slowly; their high-stepping horses
chafing at the irrestraint. Luis and Isabel drove to their
appointed place with a speed and clatter, accentuated by the
jingling of the silver rings of the harness and the silver
hanging buttons on the gay dress of the Mexican driver. But
the occupants of both carriages appeared to be great
favorites with the populace who thronged the Plaza, the
windows, the flat roofs of the houses, and every available
place for hearing and seeing.
The blue flag of Texas fluttered gayly over the lovely city;
and there was a salvo of cannon; then, into the sunshine and
into the sight of all stepped the man of his generation.
Nature has her royal line, and she makes no mistakes in the
kings she crowns. The physical charm of Houston was at this
time very great. His tall, ample, dignified form attracted
attention at once. His eyes penetrated the souls of all
upon whom they fell. His lips were touched with fire, and his
words thrilled and swayed men, as the wind sways the heavy
heads in a field of ripe barley.
He stretched out his arms to the people, and they stretched
out their arms to him. The magnetic chain of sympathy was
complete. The hearts of his listeners were an instrument, on
which he played the noblest, most inspiring, the sweetest of
melodies. He kindled them as flame kindles dry grass.
He showed them their future with a prophet's eye, and touched
them also with the glad diviner's rapture. They aspired,
they rejoiced at his bidding; and at the moment of their
highest enthusiasm, he cried out:
"Whatever State gave us birth, we have one native land and we
have one flag!" Instantly from the grim, blood-stained walls
of the fortress, the blessed Stars and Stripes flew out; and
in a moment a thousand smaller flags, from every high place,
gave it salutation. Then the thunder of cannon was answered
by the thunder of voices. Cannon may thunder and make no
impression; but the shout of humanity! It stirs and troubles
the deepest heart-stream. It is a cry that cannot be
resisted. It sets the gates of feeling wide open. And it was
while men were in this mood that Houston said his last words:
"I look in this glorious sunshine upon the bloody walls of the
Alamo. I remember Goliad. I carry my memory back over the
long struggle of thirty years. Do you think the young, brave
souls, fired with the love of liberty, who fell in this long
conflict have forgotten it? No! No! No! Wherever in God's
Eternity they are this day, I believe they are permitted to
know that Texas has become part of their country, and
rests forever under the flag they loved. The shouting