ride hard for Texas. But he no longer enjoyed a bachelor's freedom to act on impulse and go or come as he pleased. The day before yesterday he had married Margaret Lea.
Thoughts of Margaret softened the grim lines of his craggy face.
In May of '36, a month after the victory at San Jacinto, Houston had sailed into New Orleans aboard the trading schooner Flora, and among the hundreds gathered at the levee to see the bigger-than-life hero of Texas were young ladies from Professor McLean's school, who had traveled by stagecoach all the way from Marion. One of McLean's pupils was seventeen-year-old Margaret Lea. Slender and fairly tall at five-foot-seven, Margaret was a beauty, with violet-blue eyes, light brown hair streaked with gold, and a serenity that made her seem more mature than her years.
Her family was one of the most distinguished in the South; her ancestors had fought in the American Revolution. Prominent soldiers and lawyers and politicians inhabited her family tree.
Her father managed a prospering plantation on the Cahaba River in Alabama. A pious and proper young lady, Margaret was also clairvoyant, and on that day in New Orleans she confided to her closest friends that she had a very strong feeling she would meet Sam Houston again.
After the expiration of his term as president of Texas, Houston had visited the United States to drum up investors for the Sabine City Development Company, of which he was a major stockholder. Town-building was all the rage in Texas, and Houston was confident that a community located at the mouth of the Sabine River would flourish. He also wanted to buy some blooded horses, and pay Andrew Jackson a visit. The last thing on his agenda was finding the woman of his dreams.
At Mobile he called on a prominent local businessman named Martin Lea. Lea invited Houston to his country home, Spring Hill, where his wife was entertaining her sister Margaret and their mother Nancy. When he saw Margaret, Houston fell in love at first sight.
That night, a thoroughly beguiled Sam Houston sat and stared at Margaret, clad in a beautiful tarlatan dress, soft candlelight gleaming in her hair as she played the piano. Since leaving the McLean school, she had attended the new Judson College for girls, becoming an accomplished pianist and harp player, and impressing everyone with her flair for poetry. Later that evening, Houston walked with her in the azalea garden. He picked a pink carnation and presented the blossom to her. She put it in her hair. The moonlight filtering through the pecan trees, the romance in the sultry, magnolia-scented air—even now Houston could vividly recall that evening stroll.
He was forty-six years old, she only twenty, and yet she fell in love with this gallant adventurer. For his part he had given up on achieving personal happiness. Ten years had transpired since his disastrous marriage to Eliza Allen. During his exile among the Cherokees he had carried on a tempestuous relationship with Tiana, daughter of "Hellfire Jack" Rogers, the Scots trader, and his Cherokee wife. But that, too, had ended badly, due in no small measure to his fondness for ardent spirits, an affliction that prompted the Indians to nickname him Oo-Tse-Tee-Ar-dee-tah-Skee—Big Drunk.
To the dismay of Nancy Lea, Houston courted Margaret for a week, all business forgotten. Houston was charming—this much Nancy would concede. But he was a drinker, a profane man, a duelist, an adventurer, and there were those rumors about his former wife and that Indian princess. Houston was completely candid with Margaret about his many faults, and Margaret decided it was God's will that she should be His humble instrument in saving Houston's life, not to mention his immortal soul. At the end of this week-long whirlwind romance, Houston asked Margaret to marry him and she accepted.
She was his Esperanza, he declared, the "One Hoped For." "My heart is like a caged bird," she wrote him, "whose weary pinions have been folded
Thoughts of Margaret softened the grim lines of his craggy face.
In May of '36, a month after the victory at San Jacinto, Houston had sailed into New Orleans aboard the trading schooner Flora, and among the hundreds gathered at the levee to see the bigger-than-life hero of Texas were young ladies from Professor McLean's school, who had traveled by stagecoach all the way from Marion. One of McLean's pupils was seventeen-year-old Margaret Lea. Slender and fairly tall at five-foot-seven, Margaret was a beauty, with violet-blue eyes, light brown hair streaked with gold, and a serenity that made her seem more mature than her years.
Her family was one of the most distinguished in the South; her ancestors had fought in the American Revolution. Prominent soldiers and lawyers and politicians inhabited her family tree.
Her father managed a prospering plantation on the Cahaba River in Alabama. A pious and proper young lady, Margaret was also clairvoyant, and on that day in New Orleans she confided to her closest friends that she had a very strong feeling she would meet Sam Houston again.
After the expiration of his term as president of Texas, Houston had visited the United States to drum up investors for the Sabine City Development Company, of which he was a major stockholder. Town-building was all the rage in Texas, and Houston was confident that a community located at the mouth of the Sabine River would flourish. He also wanted to buy some blooded horses, and pay Andrew Jackson a visit. The last thing on his agenda was finding the woman of his dreams.
At Mobile he called on a prominent local businessman named Martin Lea. Lea invited Houston to his country home, Spring Hill, where his wife was entertaining her sister Margaret and their mother Nancy. When he saw Margaret, Houston fell in love at first sight.
That night, a thoroughly beguiled Sam Houston sat and stared at Margaret, clad in a beautiful tarlatan dress, soft candlelight gleaming in her hair as she played the piano. Since leaving the McLean school, she had attended the new Judson College for girls, becoming an accomplished pianist and harp player, and impressing everyone with her flair for poetry. Later that evening, Houston walked with her in the azalea garden. He picked a pink carnation and presented the blossom to her. She put it in her hair. The moonlight filtering through the pecan trees, the romance in the sultry, magnolia-scented air—even now Houston could vividly recall that evening stroll.
He was forty-six years old, she only twenty, and yet she fell in love with this gallant adventurer. For his part he had given up on achieving personal happiness. Ten years had transpired since his disastrous marriage to Eliza Allen. During his exile among the Cherokees he had carried on a tempestuous relationship with Tiana, daughter of "Hellfire Jack" Rogers, the Scots trader, and his Cherokee wife. But that, too, had ended badly, due in no small measure to his fondness for ardent spirits, an affliction that prompted the Indians to nickname him Oo-Tse-Tee-Ar-dee-tah-Skee—Big Drunk.
To the dismay of Nancy Lea, Houston courted Margaret for a week, all business forgotten. Houston was charming—this much Nancy would concede. But he was a drinker, a profane man, a duelist, an adventurer, and there were those rumors about his former wife and that Indian princess. Houston was completely candid with Margaret about his many faults, and Margaret decided it was God's will that she should be His humble instrument in saving Houston's life, not to mention his immortal soul. At the end of this week-long whirlwind romance, Houston asked Margaret to marry him and she accepted.
She was his Esperanza, he declared, the "One Hoped For." "My heart is like a caged bird," she wrote him, "whose weary pinions have been folded
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