Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September 1999 Page: 158

Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal

ber one day, in the following spring when the
doors and windows were open, that my mother
was seated at the piano trying some new pieces
of music which she had lately received. I was
standing at her side, when, happening to turn
around, I saw standing in the doorway, and look-
ing eagerly in at the open windows, many Indi-
ans-men, women and children, all deeply ab-
sorbed by the music. I involuntarily uttered an
exclamation of alarm at this unexpected and un-
usual sight, but my mother very calmly and qui-
etly arose and advanced towards them. But this
they would not permit. With vehement gestures,
they motioned her to continue playing, saying
"Baba sheelah," to quiet our fears. My mother
again sat down at the piano and played a long
time. Surely no mansion ever had a more atten-
tive audience. They stood there absorbed, en-
tranced by the music, motionless and, apparently,
forgetful of all else, save those strains which so
possessed them, their usually stoical counte-
nances expressive of every emotion of delight.
They at last departed, after gazing, with a kind
of curious awe, at the piano, and with almost
reverential admiration at my mother. They shook
hands with me, and repeated "Baba-sheelah."
Although the victory of San Jacinto was com-
plete and Santa Anna had entered into an en-
gagement to keep the peace, yet Texans, know-
ing the treacherous soul of the Mexican, were in
constant apprehension of another invasion. Ru-
mors were continuously floating about to the ef-
fect that a Mexican army was approaching San
Antonio, and, indeed, Filisola was stationed on
the Rio Grande to organize an expedition for the
invasion of Texas. One morning, just at daybreak,
a Mexican startled our family out of its dreams
by rushing in and proclaiming that a Mexican
army was advancing not far away. He had dis-
tinctly seen it moving across the prairie. Our fam-
ily hastened into Houston without delay, the in-
habitants were aroused, armed and prepared for
action. But the alarm was a false one. The Mexi-
can, a prominent man who had espoused the

cause of the Texans, had mistaken a large body
of cattle in the misty shadows just before day,
for the dreaded invaders. In the summer of thirty-
eight we moved to Galveston, and in June my
sister Eliza was born. It was claimed for her that
she was the first white girl born on Galveston
island. It was during this time that my father was
elected to represent this district in the Texas
Congress, this being the first time that it was
entitled to a representative in that body. Galveston,
at this time, was a little city. The Texas navy
yard had been established there, a number of
hotels and restaurants were opened for the ac-
commodation of the constantly arriving newcom-
ers from the United States and Europe. Society
was constantly enlivened by balls, theaters,
steamboat rides, and it was a delightful place of
summer resort to the many who frequented it
from the interior. There was no church there this
summer. The sand hills near the beach were
used as a cemetery, and often, when the gulf
was high or the winds unusually strong, the sand
would be drifted away, and leave the coffins
partly exposed. It was a dreadful thought, the
idea of being buried there. Texas was at this time
a very paradise for sportsmen. I have seen, in
riding along the prairies on the mainland of
Galveston bay, a herd which looked like a buff-
colored wall, in which it was estimated that there
were five thousand deer. As our carriage would
roll lightly over the grassy sward in early spring-
time young fawns were constantly springing up
before the horse's feet. The bay, during the fall
and winter, would be black for miles with ducks
and geese. Swans were very common, and on
Galveston island the sky at times would seem to
be hung with a pink curtain of cloud, as the rosy
plumed flamingo floated over us. Pelican Island
was an El Dorado of wealth for the fisher boys,
who brought therefrom boat-loads of pelican eggs
for the Galveston market. These eggs are about
the size of a hen's egg, not quite so oval, contain
more yolk, which is of a reddish hue, and richly
flavored.

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