"Whatever course my State shall determine to pursue my faith in State supremacy and State rights will carry my sympathies with her. And, as Henry Clay, my political opponent on annexation said, when asked why he allowed his son to go into the Mexican War, 'My country, right or wrong,' so I say, my State, right or wrong."
We noticed several times the very men applauding the speech who had opposed the speaker and the speaking in the morning. The power of General Houston over a Texas audience was magical to the last degree, and doubtless well understood by himself; hence he feared no mobs.
During the first year of the war Colonel Moore had organized a splendid regiment of eleven hundred young men, volunteers mostly from Galveston, finely equipped, of which Sam Houston, Jr., was a member. They were on dress parade daily, and presented a charming appearance. It was as fine a regiment as went to the war from any section of the country. The Colonel was justly proud of them, and fond of exhibiting their superior drill and "dress" to the public, and particularly to old military men. They fought their first battle at Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, as the Confederates called it. But before leaving the island for the seat of war the Colonel invited General Houston to review his regiment. Now Judge Campbell, of one of the judicial districts of Texas, and Williamson S. Oldham, member of the Confederate Congress, had been the old General's bitter enemies during the canvass on secession. They had followed him night and day through the State. On the day set for him to review and put the regiment through some military evolutions, the General was on hand at the hour and place. This called out a large concourse of people to witness the performance; the day was sunny and beautiful; the hour ten in the forenoon. The regiment was in complete uniform and perfectly armed; their arms glistened in the sunbeams as they stood in perfect dress, and at "present arms," when the "hero of San Jacinto," supported by their Colonel, stood in front. He was the hero of San Jacinto sure enough, for there he stood, in the same military suit he had worn in 1836, at the battle of San Jacinto, when Santa Anna was captured; his pants tucked in the tops of military boots; suspended at his side was the same old sword, and on his head was a weather-beaten, light-colored, broad-brimmed planter hat, the left side buttoned up to the crown. There he stood, the very impersonation of the olden times. It was a sight for sensation. All eyes were now upon him, some of them dimmed with tears, and many a throat of soldier and spectator was choking down feeling unutterable--the writer with the rest. Not a word had yet passed the General's lips, but now the Colonel passed him his own sword and told him to proceed. Then came