One of the first buildings they visited was San Fernando Cathedral. Its old gray walls, built in 1734, are still in good condition; and inside, the soft light from its stained-glass windows falls on beautiful statues and pictures of our Blessed Mother and the saints. When they left the church, the Doctor pointed out the time-blackened roof at the rear of the building, where the Mexican general, Santa Ana, planted his cannon so as to fire on the Alamo, the fort and Mission Chapel, "The Cradle of Texas' Liberty," as it is fittingly called. As they walked over to it, Mary listened eagerly to her uncle's story of Texas' brave fight for freedom from Mexico, to which country it belonged until 1836. He told her of the terrible siege of the Alamo, which took place in the early spring of that year, when less than two hundred Texans held the fort against six or seven thousand Mexicans until not one of the brave little band remained alive; and of the battle of San Jacinto a month later, in which the Mexicans suffered defeat, and Santa Ana was taken prisoner. Soon after this, Texas became a republic; and some time later, asked to be admitted to the United States.
A feeling of awe came over the little girl as they entered the Alamo and walked along its dim hallways and stood in the rooms where the fearfully unequal hand-to-hand fight was carried on. She saw the Chapel where Mass had so often been said, and the burial place of the Monks. But this sacred old building is no longer used as a chapel. It is now the property of the State, and is visited by travelers from all over the country.
Other spots which were of great interest to Mary were the old Missions outside the city. Several times the Doctor drove her out along the beautiful country roads to visit them; and as they had all the time they needed, he stopped by the roadside as often as Mary wished to get out to examine the cactus blossoms or to pick the other wild flowers, especially the bluebonnet, the State flower of Texas.
Built during the eleven years between 1720 and 1731, the Missions are now in ruins, but they stand as silent witnesses to the courage and zeal of the saintly Monks who gave their lives to the work of converting the Indians. The Mission San Jose, or Saint Joseph, is still very beautiful. It is said that the front of this church with its carvings and statues of saints above the door, was brought all the way from Spain to Mexico City, then overland, through forests, across rivers, over mountains to where it now stands. The Doctor showed Mary the part of the building which had been used as a school for the Indians, and explained that, besides being a church, school, and home for the Monks, each Mission served as a place of refuge from unfriendly Indian tribes.
Another place Mary liked to visit was Fort Sam Houston, one of the largest military posts in the country. It was here that Roosevelt trained his famous "Rough Riders." Some little distance from it is a beautiful convent school; and one day as they rode past it, Mary reined in her pony and sat watching the children at play. The Doctor proposed a visit to the Sisters, and Mary promptly agreed, hoping that the little girls would invite her to join in their games. This they did, and she spent a happy hour with them.
And so the winter passed, bringing the days when every shanty was almost hidden by the beautiful roses which climbed over it, and violets peeped out from places where one would least expect to find them. Only one thing marred the pleasure of these sunny months. This was the death of Gene's father. The Doctor had placed him in the care of a famous specialist; but though everything possible was done for him, he failed very quickly. Mary felt better about Gene's loss after her uncle had explained to her that, even had Mr. Donnelly lived, he would always have been a great sufferer.
The little girl never tired of seeing the Mexicans, who live in and around San Antonio, in their native costume. Often on the roads to the Missions, she and her uncle met one of the men dressed in light-colored breeches, white shirt, a gay sash around his waist, and a very broad-brimmed sombrero trimmed with silver braid and ornaments on his head. Usually, he had a tiny donkey, or burro, with him, almost hidden by a great load of hay or mesquite wood. They saw the women in their miserable huts, or jacales, built of a few sticks driven into the ground and covered with old blankets and thatches of straw. These women were always kneeling at the open door, pounding out tortillos, the Mexican johnny-cake, in the matat, or very old-fashioned corn mill; or they were down at the little ditch, washing their coarse linen, using a great flat rock for a washboard. The men make beautiful things of clay, feathers, grasses, leather and wool; and the Doctor bought small jugs, baskets, little pocket books, and many other trinkets for Mary to take to her friends at home. As for the Mexican candy, the little girl was sure she had never tasted any better.
On the twenty-first of April, she saw a sight which she never forgot. This was the Flower Parade, followed by the "Battle of the Flowers," in memory of the battle of San Jacinto. Foremost in the parade marched the soldiers from the Fort. They were followed by automobiles and carriages decked with beautiful flowers. One small auto in particular made Mary clap her hands in delight. It was entirely covered with pure white flowers so arranged as to represent a swan. The flowers were built up in front for the long neck and head, and bright yellow blossoms formed the bill. As it glided gracefully along, it was greeted with cheers on all sides. In the evening, a fierce battle was waged in Alamo Plaza, ladies and gentlemen on horseback pelting one another with flowers. But Mary enjoyed the parade better. She loved flowers too much to wish to see them fall and be trampled under the horses' hoofs.
A few days later, she and her uncle said good-bye to San Antonio and set out on the long journey to New York.