A few lucky colonists managed to bring their musical instruments from France, including a piano and an accordian. All would join to sing the native songs and every evening concluded with the French National Anthem, "La Marseillaise." One of the colonists wrote this song which became a favorite:
Aberneathy, Francis. The Folklore of Texan Culture. (The Encino Press: 1974)
"Les Emigrants" translated from French
Alas , we leave a land,
Where one does not know how to pardon,
Where one demands in anger
That which love alone can give.
Where fly the poor swallows?
Brothers, there is, it is said, over there,
An air more gentle for their wings,
A soil more fertile for our toil.
No more blood, no more misery,
We are the happy workers;
Of the sword which struck down our brothers
We will make victorious ploughshares.
We are the holy cohort
Of workers of the future
We go to the place
Where we must all unite.
Oh, liberty, be our guide,
Fraternity, be our sister;
Living peace under your sheild,
We shall bless the creator