Remember the Alamo [79]
national pride.
Santa Anna and his staff-officers were in front. They passed
too rapidly for individual notice, but it was a grand moving
picture of handsome men in scarlet and gold--of graceful
mangas and waving plumes, and bright-colored velvet capes; of
high-mettled horses, and richly-adorned Mexican saddles,
aqueras of black fur, and silver stirrups; of thousands of
common soldiers, in a fine uniform of red and blue; with
antique brazen helmets gleaming in the sun, and long lances,
adorned with tri-colored streamers. They went past like a
vivid, wonderful dream--like the vision of an army of
mediaeval knights.
In a few minutes the tumult of the advancing army was
increased tenfold by the clamor of the city pouring out to
meet it. The clashing bells from the steeples, the shouting
of the populace, the blare of trumpets and roll of drums, the
lines of churchmen and officials in their grandest dresses, of
citizens of every age,--the indescribable human murmur--
altogether it was a scene whose sensuous splendor
obliterated for a time the capacity of impressionable
natures to judge rightly.
But Antonia saw beyond all this brave show the ridges of red
war, and a noble perversity of soul made her turn her senses
inward. Then her eyes grew dim, and her heart rose in pitying
prayer for that small band of heroes standing together for
life and liberty in the grim Alamo. No pomp of war was
theirs. They were isolated from all their fellows. They were
surrounded by their enemies. No word of sympathy could reach
them. Yet she knew they would stand like lions at bay; that
they would give life to its last drop for liberty; and rather
than be less than freemen, they would prefer not to be at all.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FALL OF THE ALAMO.
"The combat deepens. On, ye brave!
Who rush to glory or the grave."
"To all the sensual world proclaim:
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name."
"Gashed with honorable scars,
Low in Glory's lap they lie;
Though they fell, they fell like stars,
Streaming splendor through the sky."
The passing-by of Santa Anna and the Mexican army, though it
had been hourly expected for nearly three days, was an event
which threw the Senora and her daughters into various
conditions of mental excitement. They descended from the roof
to the Senora's room, where they could move about and converse
with more freedom. For the poor lady was quite unable to
control her speech and actions, and was also much irritated by
Antonia's more composed manner. She thought it was want of
sympathy.
"How can you take things with such a blessed calmness," she
asked, angrily. "But it is the way of the Americans, no
doubt, who must have everything for prudence. Sensible!
Sensible! Sensible! that is the tune they are forever
playing, and you dance to it like a miracle."
"My dear mother, can we do any good by exclaiming and
weeping?"
"Holy Virgin! Perhaps not; but to have a little human nature
is more agreeable to those who are yet on the earth side of
purgatory."
"Mi madre," said Isabel, "Antonia is our good angel. She
thinks for us, and plans for us, and even now has everything
ready for us to move at a moment's notice. Our good angels
have to be sensible and prudent, madre."
"To move at a moment's notice! Virgin of Guadalupe! where
shall we go to? Could my blessed father and mother see me in
this prison, this very vault, I assure you they would be
unhappy even among the angels."
"Mother, there are hundreds of women today in Texas who would
think this house a palace of comfort and safety."
"Saints and angels! Is that my fault? Does it make my
condition more endurable? Ah, my children, I have seen great
armies come into San Antonio, and always before I have been
able to make a little pleasure to myself out of the event.
For the Mexicans are not blood-thirsty, though they are very
warlike. When Bravo was
Santa Anna and his staff-officers were in front. They passed
too rapidly for individual notice, but it was a grand moving
picture of handsome men in scarlet and gold--of graceful
mangas and waving plumes, and bright-colored velvet capes; of
high-mettled horses, and richly-adorned Mexican saddles,
aqueras of black fur, and silver stirrups; of thousands of
common soldiers, in a fine uniform of red and blue; with
antique brazen helmets gleaming in the sun, and long lances,
adorned with tri-colored streamers. They went past like a
vivid, wonderful dream--like the vision of an army of
mediaeval knights.
In a few minutes the tumult of the advancing army was
increased tenfold by the clamor of the city pouring out to
meet it. The clashing bells from the steeples, the shouting
of the populace, the blare of trumpets and roll of drums, the
lines of churchmen and officials in their grandest dresses, of
citizens of every age,--the indescribable human murmur--
altogether it was a scene whose sensuous splendor
obliterated for a time the capacity of impressionable
natures to judge rightly.
But Antonia saw beyond all this brave show the ridges of red
war, and a noble perversity of soul made her turn her senses
inward. Then her eyes grew dim, and her heart rose in pitying
prayer for that small band of heroes standing together for
life and liberty in the grim Alamo. No pomp of war was
theirs. They were isolated from all their fellows. They were
surrounded by their enemies. No word of sympathy could reach
them. Yet she knew they would stand like lions at bay; that
they would give life to its last drop for liberty; and rather
than be less than freemen, they would prefer not to be at all.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FALL OF THE ALAMO.
"The combat deepens. On, ye brave!
Who rush to glory or the grave."
"To all the sensual world proclaim:
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name."
"Gashed with honorable scars,
Low in Glory's lap they lie;
Though they fell, they fell like stars,
Streaming splendor through the sky."
The passing-by of Santa Anna and the Mexican army, though it
had been hourly expected for nearly three days, was an event
which threw the Senora and her daughters into various
conditions of mental excitement. They descended from the roof
to the Senora's room, where they could move about and converse
with more freedom. For the poor lady was quite unable to
control her speech and actions, and was also much irritated by
Antonia's more composed manner. She thought it was want of
sympathy.
"How can you take things with such a blessed calmness," she
asked, angrily. "But it is the way of the Americans, no
doubt, who must have everything for prudence. Sensible!
Sensible! Sensible! that is the tune they are forever
playing, and you dance to it like a miracle."
"My dear mother, can we do any good by exclaiming and
weeping?"
"Holy Virgin! Perhaps not; but to have a little human nature
is more agreeable to those who are yet on the earth side of
purgatory."
"Mi madre," said Isabel, "Antonia is our good angel. She
thinks for us, and plans for us, and even now has everything
ready for us to move at a moment's notice. Our good angels
have to be sensible and prudent, madre."
"To move at a moment's notice! Virgin of Guadalupe! where
shall we go to? Could my blessed father and mother see me in
this prison, this very vault, I assure you they would be
unhappy even among the angels."
"Mother, there are hundreds of women today in Texas who would
think this house a palace of comfort and safety."
"Saints and angels! Is that my fault? Does it make my
condition more endurable? Ah, my children, I have seen great
armies come into San Antonio, and always before I have been
able to make a little pleasure to myself out of the event.
For the Mexicans are not blood-thirsty, though they are very
warlike. When Bravo was