Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September, 1999 Page: 152
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Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal
gleams out with unusual brightness, throwing up
great bars of golden light, and as it sinks, leaving
the scene to tlh. amaranthine tints of evening.
Purple shadows drift across mountain and prai-
rie, leaving the world peaceful and serene, and
the mind at rest from all the tumult of joy and
admiration it had unceasingly experienced from
the early dawn, when we behold the wonderful
vision of the Rio Grande, to this hour of quiet
repose in the lovely evening of summer-land in
6. El Paso, and El Paso del Norte (published
in Texas Siftings, October 27, 1883)
7. Autobiography of Childhood: The Jour-
ney to Texas (prose, with three verse inser-
tions (see item number 57, "Cedar Grove" in
the poetry section of this catalog), published
in Texas Prairie Flower, vol. 2, no. 5, Novem-
ber 1883, with an editor s note: "All the po-
etry in this is original. " The Mrs. Winkler to
whom the piece refers was Mrs. Clinton
McKamy (Angelina V) Winkler, the editor of
Texas Prairie Flower. A note in Texas Prairie
Flower, vol. 2, no. 7, January 1884, states:
"Our contributor, Mrs. Fannie A. D. Darden,
of Columbus, Texas, whose writings are so
pleasingly familiar to Texas people, has been
deterred, by severe physical suffering, from
continuing her "Reminiscences of Early Days
in Texas. " As soon as she recovers her health
again, she will entertain our readers in her
graceful, happy style. ")
It is with some delicacy that I undertake
to relate my early personal experiences in Texas,
as it seems to savor of egotism, but at Mrs.
Winkler's request I have consented to recall
some of the youthful passages of my life. They
contain, I am sorry to say, little of interest to the
public, save only so far as to give an idea of the
state of the society at that time. A slight account
of my journey to Texas brings in strong contrast
the mode of traveling in 1837 and the present
era. I was seven years old, that bleak wintry
morning, when with my mother I took my depar-
ture from that happy home, which I have de-
scribed in my sketch of"Rhody and Betsy." That
home which was my birthplace, was called Ce-
Under the cedars a babe was born,
Just at the break of a Sunday morn,
Out of the struggling dark and gloom,
The light, and the babe to the world had come,
Under the waving cedars.
Under the cedars the infant grew,
Waked with the morn, and slept with the dew,
Grew with the flowers in the trembling light
That streamed through boughs from skies ever
Gleaming through the shadowy cedars.
But a dark day came when the years had sped,
When the summer bright with the South wind
And the wintry winds through the branches wild.
Bitterly swept 'round the weeping child,
Weeping beneath the cedars.
'Twas the hour of parting, the hour of tears,
Typing the unborn, sorrowing years
That came to her in a distant land,
Where the ocean swept 'round a sunny strand
Afar from the waving cedars.
Under the cedars we parted. I must not
tell of the bitter tears that were shed at that part-
ing. I was too young to realize the deep gravity
of that hour or the momentous step then taken. I
shed my childish tears in sympathy with the an-
guished tears of my mother, and my grandpar-
ents, wondering at this unwonted display of grief
Texas was then an almost unknown country, a
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Nesbitt Memorial Library. Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September, 1999, periodical, September 1999; Columbus, Texas. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth151407/m1/24/?q=nesbitt%20memorial%20library%20journal: accessed May 22, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Nesbitt Memorial Library.