They passed too rapidly for individual notice, but it was a grand moving picture of handsome men in scarlet and gold--of graceful mangas and waving plumes, and bright-colored velvet capes; of high-mettled horses, and richly-adorned Mexican saddles, aqueras of black fur, and silver stirrups; of thousands of common soldiers, in a fine uniform of red and blue; with antique brazen helmets gleaming in the sun, and long lances, adorned with tri-colored streamers.

They went past like a vivid, wonderful dream--like the vision of an army of mediaeval knights.
In a few minutes the tumult of the advancing army was increased tenfold by the clamor of the city pouring out to meet it.

The clashing bells from the steeples, the shouting of the populace, the blare of trumpets and roll of drums, the lines of churchmen and officials in their grandest dresses, of citizens of every age,--the indescribable human murmur--altogether it was a scene whose sensuous splendor obliterated for a time the capacity of impressionable natures to judge rightly.
But Antonia saw beyond all this brave show the ridges of red war, and a noble perversity of soul made her turn her senses inward.

Then her eyes grew dim, and her heart rose in pitying prayer for that small band of heroes standing together for life and liberty in the grim Alamo.

No pomp of war was theirs.