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![]() Sydney Lanier in 1874 (Courtesy of Special Collections, The Milton S. Eisenhower Library, Johns Hopkins University) |
As a nineteenth-century
travel writer, Frederick Law Olmsted had produced a readable, straightforward
description of San Antonio and its tri-cultural inhabitants during the
mid-1850's, but Sydney Lanier was the first writer of belletristic importance,
especially in the Southern tradition, to describe the city from a more
literary perspective. The accomplished Georgia flautist and poet came
to San Antonio at the end of 1872, hoping to improve his tubercular condition,
the town being, in Lanier's words, "a growing resort for consumptives"
(Lanier 202). While here, he wrote a rambling essay based on his visit
titled "San Antonio de Bexar," which was published in the July-August
1873 issue of the Southern Magazine. Even though the bulk of the essay
is a historical sketch of San Antonio during the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries, borrowed mostly from H. Yoakum's History of Texas and a few
other sources, Lanier took a genuine interest in the city's cultural diversity,
its natural and architectural landmarks, and even its climate and topography.
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![]() Mission Concepción |
San Antonio must have struck Lanier as a rather exotic place, as it had Olmsted, for he immediately observed: One finds in San Antonio the queerest juxtaposition of civilizations, white, yellow (Mexican), red (Indian), black (negro), and all possible permutations of these significant colors. The Germans, the Americans, and the Mexicans are not greatly unequal in numbers. (233) He was careful
to point out, however, that religious services were held in four languages
(English, Spanish, German, and Polish) and then added, In all the large
stores the clerks must understand at least English, German, and Mexican;
and one medical gentleman adds to his professional card . . . that he
will hold "consultations in English, French, Italian, and Spanish" (235). Even the ruin of one of the five missions, Concepcion, was occupied at this time by a German family.
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![]() Commemorative plaque at the Commerce Street Bridge, which quotes Lanier
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Lanier was particularly fascinated by the trilingual sign-board posted at the Commerce Street Bridge, because it apparently summed up for him the nature of the three prominent ethnic groups in the specific wording of the sign, which read: Walk your
horse over the bridge, or you will be fined. From Lanier's
perspective as a nineteenth-century Southern writer, the Anglo-American's
concern is money, so he is threatened with a fine, while for the "law-abiding
Teuton" (234) it is enough to know that riding one's horse across the
bridge is forbidden. In contrast, the Spanish speaker's injunction is
fear of the law, a more negative implication suggesting the fear of being
punished, perhaps implying Lanier's prejudicial attitude toward the Hispanic
population.
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![]() San Fernando Cathedral, as it appears today
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Concerning San Antonio's architectural landmarks, Lanier had little to say descriptively about the city's most famous one, the Alamo. This omission is not really surprising, however, considering the Alamo's condition then. While the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers had already "taco-belled" the old ruin (as one historian put it) by 1850, the structure was being used as a supply depot until Fort Sam Houston was built at its present location in 1876. Instead Lanier was more impressed with San Fernando Cathedral, constructed in the eighteenth century for the Canary Island immigrants, and he described it in some detail: By far
the finest and largest architectural example in town is San Fernando Cathedral,
which presents a broad, varied, and imposing façade upon the western side
of Main Plaza. Entering this building, one's pleasure in its exterior
gives way to curious surprise; for one finds inside the old stone church
built here more than a century ago, standing, a church within in church,
almost untouched save that parts of some projecting pediments have been
knocked away by the builders. In this inner church services are still
regularly held, the outer one not being yet completed. The curious dome,
surrounded by a high wall over which its slit-windows just peer--an evident
relic of ancient Moorish architecture, which one finds in the rear of
most of the old Spanish edifices in Texas--has been preserved, and still
adjoins the queer priests' dormitories, which constitute the rear end
of the cathedral building. (241)
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In addition, Lanier was favorably impressed by the Ursuline Convent, located just north of downtown, "standing as it does on a rocky and steep . . . bank of the [San Antonio] river": Strolling
up the river a quarter of a mile, one comes upon a lone white stone building
which has evidently had much trouble to accommodate itself to the site
upon which it is built, and whose line is broken into four or five abrupt
angles, while its roof is varied with dormer- windows and sharp projections
and spires and quaint clock-faces, and its rear is mysterious with lattice-covered
balconies and half-hidden corridors. (242)
He also liked
Mission Concepción, which was occupied by a German family at that time,
and especially Mission San José de Aguayo, located further southeast of
downtown. Lanier noted that religious services were still being regularly
conducted at Mission San José, and he romantically reflected that one
could do worse things than to steal out here from town on some wonderfully
calm Sunday morning, and hear a mass, and dream back the century and a
half of strange, lonesome devout, hymn-haunted and Indian-haunted years
that have trailed past these walls. (243) Lanier even
mentioned little Mission San Juan Capistrano, situated a few miles further
down the San Antonio River, but he only observed that it was in a state
of dilapidation. If Lanier knew about the fifth mission, the even more
distant Espada, he did not include it in his discussion.
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![]() San Antonio River viewed from King William District
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In addition to the local architecture and inhabitants, Lanier was also interested in the two major streams that flowed through what is now the inner city area of San Antonio. Of these two the San Antonio River, with its famous River Walk, has subsequently become one of the most popular tourist attractions in Texas, but even in 1873 the stream had its picturesque appeal. Lanier described it as a small river about sixty feet wide: Its water
is usually of a lovely milky-green. The stranger strolling on a mild summer
day often finds himself suddenly on a bridge, and is half startled with
the winding vista of sweet lawns running down to the water, of the weeping-willows
kissing the surface, of summer-houses on its banks, and of the swift yet
smooth-shining stream meandering this way and that. (240)
The nostalgic
Southern poet grew even more eloquent in describing the river's source
and the major bridge across the river: One may
drive five miles to northward and see the romantic spot where the San
Antonio River is forever being born, leaping forth from the mountain,
complete, totus, even as Minerva from the head of Jove. Or one may take
one's stand on the Commerce Street Bridge and involve oneself in the life
that goes by this way and that. Yonder comes a long train of enormous
blue-bodied, canvas-covered wagons, built high and square in the stern,
much like a fleet of Dutch galleons, and lumbering in a pondering way
that suggests cargoes of silver and gold. (243-44) |
![]() Concrete covered bed of San Pedro Creek, near downtown San Antonio
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The other stream that caught Lanier's interest, San Pedro Creek, is practically unknown to the general populace, although Olmsted had given it adequate notice back in the mid-1850's. Lanier described its origin from a spring, located two or three miles north of downtown, but once the small stream exits the area it becomes little more than a drainage ditch, which the city has covered with concrete. Of course, that was not the case during Lanier's visit, for he described the section of the creek near Military Plaza located downtown as the local peasant laundry: There
squat the Mexican women on their haunches, by their flat stones, washing
the family garments, in a position the very recollection of which gives
one simultaneous stitches of lumbago and sciatica, yet which they appear
to maintain for hours without detriment.(240)
Concerning
the location north of downtown--now called San Pedro Park--where the San Pedro
Creek originates from its "crystalline springs" (243), Lanier included
several interesting comments near the end of his lengthy essay on San
Antonio. King Philip of Spain had set aside the area around the springs
in 1729 as a "public place" (Richelieu n.p.), making San Pedro (Springs)
Park the second oldest municipal park in the nation after the Boston Common
(1660). A century and a half later, by 1873, it had become (and still
is) a popular place for outdoor recreation. According
to Lanier's description, it contained concentric artificial lakes, a race
course, an aviary, and a menagerie of sorts boasting a "fine Mexican lion,
. . . a bear-pit in which are an emerald-eyed blind cinnamon bear, a large
black bear, a wolf and a coyote, and other attractions" (243). One of
the ironies of time is that the bear pit which fascinated Lanier so much
was covered over later by a gazebo that had been moved from Alamo Plaza
downtown. More recent constructions and sports facilities have further
detracted from this starting point of history in San Antonio, but a four-million-dollar
budget has been set aside to restore something of the park's former beauty.
In 1873 it must have provided the ailing, homesick Georgia poet with a
good deal of comfort, for he found it to be "a very green spot indeed
in the waste prairies" (243).
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