From the crest of its long sloping hill the new capitol, vast and majestic, looked down on all this life and color. Its massive walls arose like the façade of some proud temple; its pillars of rosy granite reflected the light; its great dome soared into the blue sky. No wonder the people burst into shouts of delight on beholding it!
The dedication ceremonies took place at noon in the presence of an immense throng of citizens and soldiers. Among the orators of the occasion was Temple Houston, a son of General Sam Houston. The day was one long to be remembered. At night the noble building was illuminated, and the lofty halls and corridors were filled for hours with the best, the bravest, and the fairest of the sons and daughters of Texas.
New Capitol at Austin (1888).
In the old days when the world still believed in fairies and gnomes and elves and water-sprites, it was thought that each country had its guardian spirit, or genie, who watched over it and protected it from evil. If the poets of those far-away times were now alive, they might picture the Genie of Texas standing, invisible, on the huge dome of the capitol, looking out over her beloved state, and saying, “All is well with my people.” They might imagine her describing the scene under her eyes to the guardians of other states in words like these:
“I see around me, widespread and beautiful, the free State of Texas. Below me, clad in flowers and bathed in mellow light, lies Austin. Crowning the hills, on which fifty years ago the Red Man dwelt in his wigwams and hunting-lodges, are stately government buildings, mansions, and churches. The enclosing gardens, rich in the herbs and blossoms of a semi-tropical region, are fair under the over-arching blue sky. In their midst, crowning its own hill-tops, stands the University planned by the Republic in 1839. Here the young men and the young women of the state, alike eager in effort and high in achievement, move about the hushed halls, or pass, book in hand, through the academic grove without.
“To southward, beyond prairies threaded by the crystal waters of the rivers San Marcos and Guadalupe, I see San Antonio, that old town filled with memories of heroic deeds. The Alamo, treasured by my people, still stands on the plaza once dyed by the blood of Travis and his men. But how the gallant St. Denis would stare if he could come riding up and look from the brow of his favorite hill into the valley he loved! The village has become a great city. The streets are alive with traffic, handsome houses line the river-banks almost to the old Missions of Concepcion and San José. The United States army post is there as of old, with the stars and stripes proudly waving over its fine buildings.
“To east and southeastward are Goliad and Gonzales, sacred in the pages of Texas history; and the river La Vaca, up which La Salle and his men sailed to build ill-fated Fort St. Louis; and the San Jacinto, washing the reedy edge of the famous battle-ground. There are Houston and Columbia, whose streets in the early days were trod by the fathers of the Republic. There is Nacogdoches; and there is the Old San Antonio Road, which is still a traveled highway; and many a town which played its part in the stirring scenes of past times.
“Northward and westward lies the newer Texas with thriving cities, such as Dallas and Fort Worth, Sherman and Denison; and Waco on the site where half a century ago stood the village of the music-loving Wacoes.
“A wonderful network of railroads binds all these towns and cities together—a network which has been woven as if by magic. In 1852 the Sidney Sherman, the first locomotive engine west of the Mississippi River, ran out of Harrisburg on a short stretch of railroad. Now there are nine thousand miles of railroad in the state.