The Veramendi Palace
childhood home of Kate Lockmar Marmion
excerpt from F. Giraud and San Antonio by Emily Edwards
The front doors of the Veramendi Palace lead to an inner courtyard. When the Palace was demolished in 1912 they were taken to the Alamo.
side view of the building, these were taken in 1910, the rest of Soledad Street can be seen in this view.
This is the Patio of the Veramendi Palace, Ben Milam was shot in the courtyard and buried in this patio.
Veramendi Palace, 130 Soledad Street, San Antonio, Bexar County, TX . The Palace was built in the early 1800's by Don Fernando Veremendi. One story flat roof, made of Texas limestone and adobe. cypress and oak. L shaped with enclosed patio. Mexican architecture.
This was one of San Antonio's finest dwellings, it was left to decay and then demolished to widen Soledad Street.
Kate Lockmar Marmion and the rest of the family were the last to live at the Verimendi. The Trevino House, where Kate's grandparents (mothers family) lived was nearby. Don Fernando Verimendi was one of the original 13 Canary Islanders along with the Trevenios and Anton Lockmar, so they all knew each other and settled in San Antonio.
At the beginning of the Civil War the local Union forces surrendered to commisioners of the confederacy (Alamo Rifles to which James Roger Marmion belonged). By 1880 the Palace became a meseum, however not the cultural type, it consisted of large signs and characters dressed up in costumes and visitors toured the crumbling building..

About the Folks that lived here:
James Bowie (of Alamo fame) married Miss Ursula de Veramendi in the city of San Fernando de Bexar on April 25, 1831. She was the daughter of  Don Fernando Veramendi and lived in the Palace at the time of the siege of the Alamo. Anton Lockmar ran the first Hotel in Texas out of the Veramendi. When  Anton Lockmar died, while he was still a young man, Apolonaria continued to run the hotel. Then she fell in love with and married  FRANCOIS P. GIRAUD (1818-1877). Francois then lived in the Veramendi with his new family.  Francois P. Giraud, surveyor, engineer, and builder, was born in Charleston, South Carolina, on June 1, 1818, to Francois and Adele Giraud. His parents had immigrated from Bordeaux, France, to Charleston, South Carolina, and then moved to San Antonio about 1847. Giraud was sent by his parents to Mount St. Mary's College at Emmitsburg, Maryland, where he served for a while as a teacher upon graduation. He furthered his engineering and architectural studies in Paris, France, then returned to San Antonio and worked as a civil engineer and architect. He was responsible for building St. Mary's Church, early structures at St. Mary's University, and Ursuline Academy,qv and he furnished plans for the reconstruction of San Fernando Cathedral. He made a survey to fix the boundaries of San Antonio and furnished plans of San Pedro and Alazan creeks and their irrigation systems. He surveyed and established boundaries of the San Antonio missions (see SAN ANTONIO MISSIONS NATIONAL HISTORIC PARK). Giraud served as a city engineer from 1849 to 1853 and as mayor from 1872 to 1875. He married Maria Apolinaria Trevino Lockmar; they had more children. He died in San Antonio on May 8, 1877.

the above excerpt is from the Handbook Of Texas Online, with corrections. Several of us have written to them to tell them that he and Apolinaria had children together, and that she was previously married to Lockmar, but no changes are ever made, no respose that they read the email was ever recieved from them.

EXCERPTS from Books mentioning Anton Lockmar and the Veramendi

excerpt from : Early Times in Texas
By John Crittenden Duval

"About two o'clock in the evening we arrived at San Antonio, and put up at the  'Veramendi,' at that time the only public house in the city, kept by a Mr.  Lockmar, an Italian. There were no private rooms for guests in the  establishment, but one large apartment in which there were sixty or seventy  canvas cots, served as a common dormitory for all. Lock- mar ushered us into  this room and pointing out a cot to each one of us, he told us they were ours as  long as we saw proper to stay at 'the best hotel in Texas,' and that dinner  would be ready for us in about an hour, when we would have a show at some of the  'best beef and frijoles in Texas.' As we found out subsequently, Lockmar did not  exaggerate in the least as to the quality of his fare, but even 'the best beef  and frijoles in Texas' will become a trifle monotonous, if they are served up  three times a day for weeks, without anything else.

As we wished to take a look at the city while dinner was being prepared, we  threw our saddle bags under the cots alloted us, and sallied out upon the  streets. I did this without the least fear of losing my 'luggage,' and would  have done so even if my saddle bags had contained articles of much greater value  than a spoilt snack, which they didn't for whatever may be said against the  'old Texans' they are not given to pilfering. I admit that they are a little  careless sometimes in the way they handle their 'shooting irons,' especially,  when a Mexican is likely to be shot if they should go off accidentally, but such  crimes as robbery or murder for plunder is altogether unknown among them. But, I  am wandering from my story, and will 'return to my muttons,' in the saddle bags,  albeit they are badly tainted.*

"When we supposed we had given the landlord of the Vera- mendi House time enough to have dinner prepared for us, we turned our steps towards it. As soon as we came in sight of it we perceived that somethidg unusual was taking place at the hotel, as a crowd was standing around the entrance, and others were seen hurrying out, every one, singularly enough, with a handerchief pressed tightly to his nose! As I entered the door I met a Frenchman hastening out, a'nd I asked him if the hotel was on fire. Instead of answering my question, he said, 'My fren, vill you be so goot to tella me eef you know vere I find some room in zis house wizout ze dead dog? Ah, poufif! eet is vorse zan ze turkey boozard's denair.' Utterly mystified by what he had said, I hurried on to the dormitory and just as I reached the doorway an Irishman came bolting through it with his nose closely pressed between his fore finger and thumb. 'What's the row, my friend?' said I. 'Row?' said he, 'Faith and bejabers if you go into that room you'll purty soon find out what the ruction is.' And he went on without further explanation. I stepped through the door and the moment I did so I was nearly floored by the most villainous smell that ever saluted

safely over a large part of Texas and through thinly settled portions of the country where often a house was not seen for fifteen or twenty miles. Besides, Maj. Hutter had advertised in the papers some time before he left Houston, that he would be at designated towns and villages on such and such days for the purpose of paying those who had served in the Mexican war, and of course everybody in the country knew that necessarily, he would be compelled to have a very large amount of money with him, yet he made the trip safely and without the loss of a dime. I'll bet my old "slouch" against a Mexican sombrero with a silver snake "quiled" around it, if Maj. Hutter, or anyone elee should attempt to-day to travel the route he did in '48, with half a million in gold in his ambulance and only three men to guard it, he wouldn't get twenty miles from where he started before the "road agents" would order him "to hold up his hands."
my nostrils, and I have been in New Orleans, during the dog days. All the guests who had congregated in the common sleeping apartment to take their evening's siesta, (then 'the .costumbre del pais') had risen from their cots, and were running here and there, examining closely every nook and corner where it was possible a dead animal might be hidden. Lockmar and all his 'peons' were present also, aiding in the search for the dead dog (or whatever it was). Stepping up to him i asked him if he had any idea what it was that caused such a horrible smell in the house. 'No,' said he, 'I haven't, when you and your friends came here, most of my boarders were lying on their cots taking their siesta, and in a few moments after you went out the row began, and as they are all alive yet, and we have searched the room closely without finding even a dead mouse, I am wholly at a loss to account for it.' Just then one of the boarders who was peeping under my cot with his nose in six inches of of my saddle bags, exclaimed, 'It's close about here somewhere, certain.' 'What is it? Where is it?' Said every one as they crowded around my cot. At that instant for the first time, I thought of the snack of cold mutton I had put in my saddle bags at Austin! Thinks 1 it will never do to let all hese people know that my snack is at the bottom of all this commotion. But how to get it out of my saddle bags and out of the house without being observed was the question. Fortunately, there was a little cuddy in a corner of the room near me used as a receptacle for worthless trash, and peeping into it I exclaimed loud enough for every one in the room to hear me, 'Here's your dead dog at last.' In a moment everybody had gathered around the cuddy, and taking advantage of their eagerness to get a peep into it, and the general confusion, I slipped through the crowd unnoticed, hurried to my saddle bags, tore them open, seized the snack and 'Ah, pouff!' as the Frenchman said, 'eet vas vorse zan ze turkey boozard's denair.' Hastily thrusting it under the skirt of a frock coat I was wearing, I sauntered towards the door, looking as unconcerned as I could and as if I had no particular interest in the row that was going on; but like the Syrian youth who kept a smiling countenance while the stolen fox under his toga was gnawing at his vitals, rather than confess the theft, my 'sang froid' was altogether assumed. A number of the guests (refugees from the dormitory) had collected on the street about the entrance to the hotel, and I was compelled to pass through the crowd. As I did so, two dozen noses were simultaneously grasped by as many fore fingers and thumbs, and no wonder, for I bore along with me an atmosphere by no means as fragrant as the breezes 'that blow o'er Ceylon's spicy isle.' As I went through, I heard my Irishman say, 'Begorra, if that mon has ony friends they ought to have buried him a wake ago.' I didn't stop to argue the point with him, but walked on till I came to a cross street, and turning the corner, I threw that snack as far as I could send it into a back yard. When I returned to the hotel 'all was quiet along the Potomac,' and everybody was wondering what could have caused 'that horrible odor' which had disappeared as suddenly and as mysteriously as it came. I could have enlightened them on the subject, but failed to do so."


Reminiscences and Events in the Ministerial Life of Rev. John Wesley ...
By Hiram Atwill Graves

A person coming to San Antonio, now, surrounded as it is by a thick growth of bushes, can have hardly any conception of the beauty and loveliness of the country when I first visited it. We put up at a hotel kept by Anton 'Lockmar, an Italian, situated on Soledad street, not far from the convent. It was then the outside house in the direction of San Pedro Springs.


I mentioned in my last that Victoria circuit was divided, and Gonzales circuit  was the upper part. San Antonio was one appointment on the circuit this year;  and soon after we got fixed in our new home, wife and I made a trip to this  ancient city. We found a kind reception at the house of Mrs. Vanderlip, who  still lives in the city, an honored and respected member of the Presbyterian  church. I preached in the parlor of the Verimenda Hotel, the same building in  which the brave Milam met his sad fate.

The hotel was kept by Messrs. Crump & Lockmar, the latter, the same gentleman  who was mine host on my first visit to the city. Mr. Lockmar fixed up the room  in a very neat and proper manner for divine service, with a clean white cloth on  the table, a pitcher of water, and comfortable seats for the audience. He also  placed on the table a bottle of port wine. I told him I would rather he would  remove the wine. He contended that it would greatly assist me in speaking, and  that the priests in Italy would not preach at all without some good wine to  assist them, and added with emphasis: " This is a first-rate article." I told  him that Americans did not approve of such things, so the wine was taken away.  Mr. Lockmar was a model of hospitality and politeness. I was kindly entertained,  free of charge, by Messrs. Crump & Lockmar, at every visit, and had good  congregations once a month, during the year.