"Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour,
I've seen my fondest hopes decay;
I never loved a tree, or flower,
But it was first to fade away.
I never nursed a dear gazelle,
To glad me with its soft black eye,
But when it came to know me well
And love me, it was sure to die."
We reached Jefferson, Texas, when the excitement was rife over the murder
of Bessie Moore, the terrible details of which sent a thrill of horror
over the entire United States. It rained during the several days of our
stay there; but thanks to the earnest endeavors of Mrs. Frazer, of the
Frazer House, I did very well in my business. Many of the fairest portions
of the town had been laid waste by the destructive ravages of incendiary
fires, and had never been rebuilt.
Marshall is one of the most enterprising towns in the State, being a great
railroad centre, and settled almost exclusively by Northern people.
We had a most delightful visit to Shreveport, Louisiana: It lies at the
head of Red River navigation, and is the port of entry for New Orleans
steamers, being a place of great wealth and equal generosity. The editors
worked with great zest to aid me, and among the many people I met very few
failed to buy books. The genial skies and bright sunshine made it hard to
realize that it was the winter season; and I shall ever revert to its
warm-hearted people not only with pleasure but with gratitude.
At Longview--in the dilapidated prison-like room of my hotel, I received
tidings of the death and burial of Hattie. My surroundings were in such
sad accord with my feelings, that I wondered if the sun would ever shine,
or the flowers bloom again, so much light went out with her dear life.
At Longview we took a branch of the International Railroad to
Palestine--Mr. Smith, the Vice-President of the road, not only largely
patronizing me, but presenting me with a six months' pass and the
assurance that if I ever again visited the State a letter addressed to him
would ensure a repetition of the favor.
Thence we went to Galveston, where Mr. Arms had been for three months
trying the efficacy of sea-bathing. This city is beautifully located upon
a fertile island in Galveston Bay. The streets are lined upon either side
with oleander trees, which, arching over at the top, form a very bower of
bloom, while every breath of the clear bright air is balmy with the odor
of orange blossoms.
The Mesquite trees, with attenuated leaves and gracefully drooping pods,
adorn all the parks of the city, the beans forming a delicious dish either
cooked or raw.
No wonder Texas is called "The Happy Hunting Ground," for the five
delightful weeks we spent in Galveston seemed like a dream of Paradise.
Its many pleasures were varied by sailing and bathing, every morning
finding us upon the pure, white beach, where the waves whispered the
sweetest melodies.
We went back to Houston in the month of bloom, and no "vale of Cashmere"
could have been more beautiful in its "feast of roses."
The street car ran to the depot, and we found in it but one passenger, a
gentleman who carried a rose in his hand. Noticing at once that I was
blind, he arose and said to me, "Although you cannot see the beautiful
flowers you can inhale their sweetness," at the same time asking me to
accept the rose. His delicate kindness and urbane manner struck a deep
chord in my heart, and I never think of Houston without recalling the
gentle touch and tone.
I must not omit to mention an act of generosity upon the part of the
railroad office at Galveston. Leaving there I had paid fare to Houston,
and the agent refunded five dollars, adding that I should never be allowed
to pay railroad fare.
After remaining two weeks at Houston I took the Sunset Route to San
Antonia, and stopped at the Central House on the main plaza. This is the
oldest town in Texas, and is called "The Stone City," its antique
buildings and narrow winding streets giving it a quaint, time-worn air.
San Antonia River rises from a low spring, four miles distant from the
city, and gracefully winds through its streets, and is here and there
spanned by beautiful rustic bridges.
The "City Gardens" are one block distant from the main plaza, and are
located upon an island of great natural beauty, romantically approached by
a floating bridge. The air is cool and refreshing from the river breeze,
fair flowers, bloom and sweet voiced birds rival the musical instruments
which lead the merry feet of the dancers.
A mile from the city are the San Pedro Springs, a lovely park often acres
in area, where springs flow out into crystal purling streams, forming
islands, lakes, and ponds white and fragrant with their lily bloom, while
shining green lizards and other reptiles peep curiously out from the rocks
and glide away into the stream.
Just across the main plaza stands the old Spanish cathedral, with its
musical chime of bells sending out on the perfumed air melodies sweet as
vesper songs.
We went to the old Alamo, felt the antique cannon used by the Mexicans,
were shown the room in which Bowie died and the spot where fell the brave
Colonel Crockett, who, with his handful of men, so gallantly held the
citadel, at which time he was taken alive, together with five other
prisoners, and ordered by Santa Anna to be killed.
Just before the fatal sword-thrust, which ended a life so fraught with
daring and danger, he sprang like a tiger at the throat of Santa Anna, his
face wearing even in death this expression of fiendish, scowling hatred.
San Antonia being the great market for the frontier, is a place of great
business activity. While there I was struck with amazement to see a dirty,
ragged man mounted upon a jaded, dilapidated horse, a very Sancho Panza
and Rezinante, smilingly asking alms of the passer-by.
I had often heard of, but never before saw a veritable "beggar on
horseback."