Well, the fourth of July has come again and I am still here to celebrate the day, aged seventy-four. Looking back, I remember many a fourth of July, some with pleasure, others with sorrow. I was born in St. Louis, Missouri, in the year 1825. My first remembrance of July the fourth was the year 1831. It was a gala day—the militia marching, drums beating, flags flying, public speaking and dining. I was kissed by Thomas H. Benton. I remember the great senator well. He was afterwards at the house of my father, Dr. P. W. Rose. One of my brothers was named Thomas H. Benton; in after years I understood what it meant.
The United States government was organizing an army to fight the Indians. The next fourth of July was in a year of death and sorrow to both old and young. The army that was sent against the Indians under General Scott met with stubborn resistance from the great Indian chief, Black Hawk, from April 26 to September 21, in the year '32. There was talk that cholera had broken out in the army. In June five hundred German immigrants were landed in St. Louis. The cholera that was brought in by the soldiers and Indians spread among the immigrants, and by the first of August it was scattered through the town. The people began to leave, and as everybody had visited the soldiers and Indians at Jefferson Barracks, the cholera spread to the country, and finally all over the United States. The deaths were awful. More than half the Germans died. All business was suspended; steamboats ceased coming; burying the dead and getting away from St. Louis was all the people thought of doing. It was almost impossible to get vehicles for the burials.
My father, Dr. P. W. Rose, had gone to the State of Mississippi to a place near Vicksburg to practice medicine among the cotton planters. He did not get home till the first of November. Mother, after burying two of her children, went to her father in the country. He lived in the Grains settlement near Mr. Dent, the father of Mrs. Julia Dent Grant. I played with her all one Sunday. I heard in the year 1850 that she was married to a Lieutenant Grant. Father returned to Mississippi on the first steamboat by the tenth of the month, spent the winter there, and then came to Texas.
We enjoyed our new home very much, for we could attend church, a blessing we had been deprived of since the year 1833. Houston had improved considerably for a town not two years old. A steamboat had arrived. The captain's name was Grayson. Everybody was highly elated, as the farmers were going to plant cotton. The planters from Mississippi with their slaves were locating on the Brazos. A Mr. Jonathan Waters was going to build a cotton gin on the Brazos.
The 22nd of February, 1838, was the first time I met General Houston, the hero of San Jacinto. It was at a ball—my first ball in Houston. Sam Houston, then in his second year as president, Mosely Baker and wife, A. C. Allen and wife, a Mr. Coffee and wife, he a member of congress from Red River County, Dr. Gazley and wife, three Misses Stockbridge and others too numerous to mention were present.
I attended school during the summer. At this time there was no church building in Houston, nor any preacher stationed there. The first sermon I heard preached in Houston was delivered by a Presbyterian minister by the name of Sullivan. He preached in the Hall of Representatives in the old Capitol. There had been built a court house and jail, both of them of logs. Two men were in jail to be hanged for murder. The influx of men from the United States was not without its evils. There had been three terms of court held in Houston, but these men, Jones and Quick, were the first to be sentenced to capital punishment. With other evils, a great many gamblers had been put out of the State of Mississippi and, as it was believed that a large amount of money had been captured from the Mexicans at San Jacinto, Houston was considered the El Dorado of the West. There had been several good houses built in Houston. Mr. Andrew Briscoe, the hero of Anahuac, was living in Houston, and was judge of the probate court of Harris county. He married Miss Mary Jane Harris in the year 1831 at Harrisburg. Mr. Woodruff's step-daughter, Miss Mary Smith, and Mr. Hugh McCrory were the first couple to marry in Houston. They married early in the year 1831, and he died a few months after.
There was to be an election this year for president, vice-president, and members of congress. The change of affairs under the Lone Star Republic may have added to the glory of statesmen and politicians, but it was a sad disappointment to the boys that were too young to vote. They never could forget the election barbecue and ball of the past. The women and girls seemed to enjoy the change.
Mr. Ben Fort Smith built a large two story house to be used for a hotel. It was opened with a grand ball on the 21st of April, the second anniversary of the battle of San Jacinto. Father, Mother, Brother, Sister, and I were at the ball. The second story of the house had not been partitioned off for bedrooms, and it made a fine hall for dancing. There were three hundred people present, but not more than sixty ladies, including little girls and married women. There were but few unmarried young ladies at that time in Texas, and as Miss Mary Jane Harris, the belle of Buffalo Bayou, was married, I, as the Rose of Bray's Bayou, came in for considerable attention. Politics ran high. General Mirabeau B. Lamar, vice-president, and a candidate for president, and Gen. Sam Houston and staff did not dance, but promenaded. One half of the men were candidates. Old Mr. Robert Wilson, “Honest Bob,” was a candidate for congress. General Houston was talking with Mother and some other ladies, when Father presented Sister and me to the president. He kissed both of us and said “Dr. Rose, you have two pretty little girls.” I felt rather crestfallen, as I considered myself a young lady. It had been the height of my ambition to dance with the president. At the Washington's birthday ball, Mrs. Dr. Gazley was dancing with the president. She, not feeling well, asked me to take her place, but a pretty young widow, Mrs. Archer Boyd, asked her partner to excuse her. She changed places with me, but I had the honor to dance in the same set. But as there was to be a wedding in June and I was to be first bridesmaid and General Houston best man, I didn't care. More of that wedding anon.
The second anniversary of the battle of San Jacinto had come and gone and Mother said she hoped there would be nothing else to distract us from our studies, as the school would close in June. But there was another sensation. One Monday morning in May on our arrival at the school-house, we found the town covered with play bills. A theatrical company had arrived and would give the first performance Friday night, June 11. This was the first theatrical company to come to Texas. It not only ran the young people wild, but the old people were not much better. The manager's name was Carlos, stage-manager, Curry, company, Mr. Hubert and family, Mr. Newton, Miss Hoke, Mr. and Mrs. Barker and several children. More of the Barkers anon.
The wedding came off the 15th of June. The groom was Mr. Flournoy Hunt, the bride, Miss Mary Henry. The wedding was at the mansion house, the home of Mrs. Man, mother of the groom. It was a grand affair, but I was snubbed again by a pretty widow. General Houston and I were to be the first attendants, Dr. Ashbel Smith and Miss Voate, second, and Dr. Ewing and Mrs. Holliday, third. At the last moment the program was changed. Mrs. Holliday suggested that I was too young and timid, and that she would take my place. General Houston offered her his arm. They took the lead, and Dr. Ewing escorted me. Everything passed off very pleasantly. As soon as congratulations were over, General Houston, who was the personification of elegance and kindness, excused himself and retired. Mrs. Holliday took possession of Doctor Ewing and left me without an escort till Mr. Hunt introduced Mr. Ira A. Harris. He was young, handsome, and had been but a few weeks in Houston; and, as I did not have the president for a partner, I was well pleased. As there was no pretty widow to interfere, we were subsequently married. Houston was at that time overrun with widows. They came from New Orleans. But it was a blessing in disguise, as all the old widowers and bachelors were thus enabled to get wives. The wedding ended with a supper and ball. The names of a few who were present and who married widows are: Thomas Earl, William Vince, owner of the Vince Bridge, and his brother Allen Vince, owner of the fine horse on which General Santa Anna made his escape from the battle field of San Jacinto.
There were no fourth of July celebrations that year. The election came off the first of September. Lamar was elected president;—[David G. Burnet], vice-president; Robert Wilson, senator. The condemned men, Jones and Quick, were hanged. School opened with Mrs. Robertson as teacher. President Houston had been absent in October visiting Nacogdoches. On his return the citizens arranged to give him a grand reception and banquet. The Milam Guards were to meet the president at Green's Bayou. As they marched out they came by the school house. The soldiers were a fine body of men; their uniforms were white with blue trimming. Captain Shea was in command. There were but a few girls in school. None of us was over fifteen years old, but we all had sweethearts among the Milam Guards. Soon after they left town rain began falling, and when they returned in the evening they were a sorry sight, wet and muddy, their uniforms ruined, and the president's clothing not much better. The reception was a failure, there being no ladies at the banquet. The school teacher, Mrs. Robertson, and pupils had received complimentary tickets to the theater that evening, as had also the president, his staff and the Milam Guards. Rain and mud did not deter us. We were all at the school house before dark. From there we marched to the theater, where the First National Bank now stands. The front seats were reserved for ladies and the school children, the next seats for the president, his staff, and the Milam Guards. The school arrived early, found the reserved seats occupied, and was accordingly seated in the second seats. There was considerable confusion, as the house was crowded. As the president and escort entered the orchestra played “Hail to the Chief,” but there were no seats vacant to accommodate them. The stage manager, Mr. Curry, came out and requested the men in front, who were gamblers and their friends, to give up the seats. This they refused to do. Then the manager called for the police to put them out. They became enraged, and drawing weapons, threatened to shoot. The sheriff called upon the soldiers to arrest and disarm them. It looked as if there would be bloodshed, gamblers on one side, soldiers on the other, women and children between, everybody talking, women and children crying. The president got on a seat, commanded the peace, asked those in front to be seated, ordered the soldiers to stack arms, and said that he and the ladies and children would take back seats. This appeared to shame the gamblers. One man acted as spokesman and said that if their money was returned they would leave the house, as they had no desire to discommode the ladies. He said that they would have left the house at first if the police had not been called. After the gamblers left, the evening passed very pleasantly. The president addressed the audience, particularly the children, as the term for which he was elected president would close soon. He admonished them to be obedient and diligent in their studies. 69
The first theatrical company to perform in Houston closed its engagement the next day. Mrs. Barker went home sick, Mrs. Hubbard refused to act again, and Mr. Barker took an overdose of laudanum and died, leaving his family destitute, the mother sick, with three small children, in an open house without a fireplace or stove. As soon as the people buried the corpse, there was a meeting to find means to help Mrs. Barker. The gamblers gave money freely, but it was impossible to get a good house. Gen. Sam Houston came to the rescue, and said that the destitute family could have the president's mansion and that he would board. The family was moved into the mansion till Mrs. B. was able to travel to her friends. The company returned to the United States. A few years after, Mr. Newton returned with a new company. He had married a Miss Hope.
This winter, 1839, was the first cold weather I had seen in Texas. There was sleet and snow. The new congress met in December, 1838, in Houston. General M. Lamar was president; the vice-president's name I do not remember. There was as much dissension in this congress as in the Consultation of 1835. The land speculators wanted to move the seat of government from Houston. No two members could agree. Some wanted to locate it at San Antonio, others at the head of the Colorado, or at Brazoria, Nacogdoches, or San Saba—every man was for himself. Finally there was a secret session of the senate that gave some offense to Senator Robert Wilson. He exposed some transaction of the session, and this caused his expulsion. An election was ordered to fill the vacancy. “Uncle Bob Wilson,” as everybody called him, was nominated and elected. As soon as he received his certificate of election the boys decided to celebrate the event. They built a throne in a wagon, seated their senator, manned the wagon, marched around town, then to the Capitol while congress was in session, hurrahing for “Uncle Bob,” and shouting “Down with secret sessions,” and “The seat of Government must remain in Houston.” They would have hauled the wagon into the senate chamber, but “Uncle Bob” requested them not to do so. This session of the congress passed the act locating the seat of government on the Colorado River above the Old San Antonio Road, and naming the place Austin. All the trouble and confusion of moving is a matter of history. At this time we were harassed by Mexicans and Indians. First was General Woll's invasion. The seat of government was moved back to Houston, and then to Washington on the Brazos. Times were very hard. Texas money was down to twenty-five cents on the dollar; gold and silver disappeared from circulation; and immigration to Texas almost stopped.
On the 20th of February I was married to Ira A. Harris in a log house on Brazos Bayou. The marriage ceremony was performed by Judge Andrew Briscoe, the hero of Anahuac. Mrs. Mary McCrory, now Mrs. Anson Jones, was bridesmaid, and Mr. Allen, from New York, groomsman. Among the guests were Gen. T. J. Rusk, Dr. Ashbel Smith, Louis B. and Clinton Harris, Adam Stafford, Gus and Steve Tompkins, Ben Fort Smith, Henry Woodland, Mrs. Brewster, and some friends whose acquaintance we made at Harrisburg in the year 1833, Misses Smith, Woodruff, Conklin, Ella Rose, and Peggy House, Mrs. Allen Vince, and others of cherished memory. The summer of 1839 was fraught with many incidents, some of joy, but many of sorrow, as yellow fever raged in Houston for months. My dear father died on the 27th of December of that year. My husband improved a place near Houston. We lived there till 1845, the year of annexation, and then moved to Columbus, Colorado County, where my husband died in 1869. We raised nine children, all of whom are living at this time. Two sons were born under the Lone Star of the Republic of Texas—T. P. Harris, born April 15th, 1841, at Houston; and Joe. P. Harris, born Feb. 25th, 1843, who now lives in Houston. T. P. Harris is living at Luling, Texas. 70 He was at the battle of Sabine Pass. Joe P. Harris was with the Terry Rangers. Guy C. Harris was in the Galveston storm. I am now visiting my son, Lee Harris, at Purcell, Indian Territory, but I claim dear old Texas as my home.
69. Pinned to Mrs. Harris's manuscript at this point is the following clipping from a Houston newspaper, the name and date of which cannot here be given:
AN OLD PAPER.
Mr. B. F. Frymier has a very interesting relic in the shape of an announcement of the production of Sheridan Knowles' comedy, `The Hunchback,' in this city on June 11, 1838, at the theater which was then standing at the corner where the First National bank is located. In addition to `The Hunchback,' which play has not been shelved even in this late date, an opening address was announced by a Mr. Carlos and the singing of `a new National Texian anthem' by the company, the performance concluding with a farce entitled a `Dumb Belle, or I'm Perfection.' The price of admission was $2.
70. On May 4, 1903, Tom P. Harris died at Luling, at the residence of his stepson, N. J. Parsons. He was aged sixty-two years and nineteen days. A contemporary issue of the Luling Signal contains the following comment upon Mr. Harris's life and services:
TRIBUTE TO MR. TOM P. HARRIS.
Died in this city on Monday evening, May 4, 1903, at the residence of his stepson, R. J. Parsons, Tom P. Harris, aged 62 years and 19 days. Interment took place in the city cemetery on Tuesday evening at 6:30 o'clock. Services were conducted at the family residence by Rev. R. A. Harty pastor of the Baptist church. A large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends followed the remains to their last resting place.
T. P., or `Uncle Tom,' as he was commonly called by his most intimate friends, had been in very poor health for a number of years, and had rapidly been growing weaker for the past six weeks. He realized his condition and talked freely of death; said he was ready and willing to die whenever the Lord saw fit to call him home, and that the future, or eternity, was mantled in brightness. He was a man of great intellect and strong convictions, courageous and brave, charitable and kind. He had his faults, as all others have, but never wronged any one intentionally. He was a very patriotic man and a true Southerner. In 1861 he enlisted in Co. A., 13th Texas infantry, and bore the hardships of nearly four years of service.
On January 5, 1897, the `Gotch' Hardeman Camp, U. C. V., was organized in this city, and Mr. Harris was elected adjutant. This position he filled to the satisfaction of his comrades and with credit to himself up to the day of his death.
He served precinct No. 2 as county commissioner for a number of years, and was recognized throughout the county as a power in the councils of public affairs; and through his persistent and herculean efforts seven substantial iron bridges were built to span our largest streams in this section. He was noted as the road and bridge commissioner of Caldwell county.
Mr. Harris was born in Houston, Texas, April 15, 1841. He residedmany years in Columbus, and afterwards at Sabine Pass, where he was married to Mrs. Delia Parsons. He came to Luling in November, 1879, and conducted a lumber business until 1883, when he and R. J. Parsons formed a partnership in the general mercantile business.
His mother, four sisters and four brothers survive him.
`Uncle Tom' will be missed by his U. C. V. comrades, his many friends and sorrowing relatives; but he has gone to his never-ending home, where sickness, sorrow, pain or woe cannot enter.
A Friend.
How to cite:
"THE REMINISCENCES OF MRS. DILUE HARRIS. III. ", Volume 007, Number 3, Southwestern Historical Quarterly Online, Page 214 - 222. http://www.tsha.utexas.edu/publications/journals/shq/online/v007/n3/article_3.html
[Accessed Fri Nov 21 15:03:45 CST 2008]
