Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1870-09-30
OLD FOLKS ANNIVERSARY.
The pIo-nle..tth Fair Ground. Yesterday.
Full Report Of the Address Of Col. LeSn
Tr0uedaIs.

Yesterday was an auspicious day for the
picnic of the old Folks, which came on
al the Fair Grounds three miles out from
the city on the Memphis and Charleston
railroad. The attendance was large ano
embraced nearly all the 'old folks WIFE
q fair sprinkling of the young people.
The amusements were Of b character
usually incident to affairs of that charae-
ter and were fully enjoyed by those pres
ent. IL was certainly one OF the mosl
pleasant reunions of the old citizens o.
The county. Colonel Mclean presided.
and At the proper moment introduced
Colonel Leon T~rousdale, the orator OF the
dav. to the assemblage. This done that
gentleman delivered the following sppro-
pirate and beautiful address:
Mr.. President, Ladies a Gesae6se1-
One OF the objects of the Association o.
s.OId Folks al Home" being to keep awe
the memoir of our departed members !
can conceive of no language more pic
turesquely eloquent as applicable 70 theII
departure from among us, tina ola cele-
brated ChoctaW chief, b dying words 70
his companions, who died far away from
home, at Washington. He said: 81 am
about to die: out you will return to our
country. As you go along the paths you
will see the flowers, and hear the birds
sing; but PushmatahsW viii see and neal
them no more. When you resch home
they will ask you, Where Is Pusnmata-
haW2 p and you will say to them he Is
nc more.' They will hear your words as
they do the fall of the great oak In the
stiffness of the midnight woods"
Since our last annual meeting, my
friends, several of u great oaks have
fallen and broken the stiffness ofthe mid
night woods. 1t is ft and proper that
the impressiveness of sue events should
not entirely pass away with t~hesensation
they produce, attire time OF thelr Occur
renee. We should gratefully cherish the
memory of their virtues, their social ex-
ceIlencies and their good deeds It Is they
whose hand NAV be traced in every
step of our civilization, In every
physical Improvements n IN
every development Of d progress.
Sturdy men ind women they were, or
thew could never have succeeded in the
giRantie task of settling an unbroken
wilderness and making 1t bloom a
blossom as the rose" All this grand
procession of civilization which we see,
and of which we are q part, on the shores
of the King Of Floods was evoked by
magic wand, which means by their
labor, their energy, intelligence and sa-
gacity. All the fading pomps which
shine in our pathway, and which Will
pass away from US as they have passed
away from them, received their impulse
and animation from their hands. Such
achievements required no ordinary meas
ure Of capacity, courage and Of enter
prise. Well did they know that they
should nsve reap the benefits Of a COM
plete civilization, and that they would
grope along in a half settled wilderness,
without churches, schools and libraries,
without the recreatiOns, intellectual n
physical which pertain to q more perfect
cultivation; without the luxuries and
with few of the comforts which belong to
the society of those who have succeeded
to their places. Yet they were content
TO labor and to hope-tO stack the long
of forest monRrchs who doomed up
msjestically in their way, to subdue the
wild beast and the still wilder
to hew out roads, to
construct bridges, to erect dwellings,
and school houses, to plant the
vine, the towering shrub, the fruit tree,
where, before the wild luxuriance of ma
ture held sway, and to marshal in long
and waving lines, the corn and cotton
prolific yield has planted cities and
brought back t the plantation wealth
and luxury. These were peaceful achieve
but they demanded strong limbs
and bold hearts, which are the character
istics of pioneers, marching to tins con-
of nature and treading the "steep
and thorny way to success. 1t is scarce
Iy necessary to inquire whence came
these pilgrims to the silent wilderness, to
pitch their tents by the side of the Indian
,gigwam. and beneath the silent stars.
That they were men of indomitAble nerve,
may well surmise. That they had pa
.iencs and fortitude, as well as courage, is
equally as evident, from the nature of the
ask they assumed. That they were wor-
shippers of nature in her most sublime
moods. we infer from their having planted
heir tent-poles upon the most ma
.sstic navigable stream, which rolls
It's waters 70 the ocean,, as the
)nly attractions which then lured
hem to its rugged banks were its surg
.ng wealth of waters, its irresistible
of current and mel land of promise,
but then of silent negative tru;tfulness
which encOmpassed it on either shore.
Such a wilderness as this has its poetry
for the mere idle dreamer, who, in the
midst of the cultivated fields and bios
hedges of Old England, ex-
claimed:
l. Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundIess e~onuigufty Of sla1e,
Where rumors Of oppression ana deceit
May never reach me more"
But, to the honest, patient, bold-hesrted
worker, who came to raise the standard Of
civilization and to care for himself and
bis children, prosperity and honor, how
sacred were its tempted woods, how i'm
oreSsive its solemn silence, how fssci-
hating its luXuriance of shifting scenery.
The ring of the AK, the hail of the distant
the watch-dOg's bay and the
1untsman's horn, were the only recog-
nizsd signs of civilization, and these were
few aud far between" Mingled with
.hese, when night threw her mantle,
studded with crown jewels, over the sky,
vas the howl of wild beasts, the
cream Of the vulture or the OWLS
summons to his comrsde
n the neighboring forest. But
hen, when the evening came to chase
the sultry glare of the dying day,
close its labOrs, 1t was sweet for the
20 sit beside his humble log
and watch the silent sentinels of the
or the pale o sailing among her
sisters, and to feel that around and
bout him, they paled not their splendors
the face of crimes and calumnies known
MY to the more refined cultivation of
titles and their environs. And then ii
vas sweet to watch the early light of
tinge the tree-tops, and 70 see the
day play upon the submits of the
Hills. But all this poetry of the wilder
less was but the compensation for hard
hips and tolls, sufferings and. privations,
4 which we can barely conceive in this
&c of progress, when the iron horse
norts over almost every square mile OF
Ur territory. For the then unnavigsted
reat river was only broken by the COCA
ripple of the Indian canoe, or the
and lazy floating Of the fstboat, and
here were not even blaZsd roads to the
OF the East; nor bridges to
pan the streams. The rudest possible
lrniture and utensils were seen in the |
ahins of these faithful pioneers. In
toll from morning to
light. without respite or rest,
reeted their rising and accompanied
heir hours through the day; SO that, in
both, there was not much room for poetic
or musing. Everything had to
Q adjusted IN the best possible shape to
be demand Of nature for food, raiment
nd shelter. Rude habitations mast be
uilt, a clearing in the forest must be
lade for cultivation, wells sunk to afford
purest beverage, seed provided
Dr the coming crop, and implements got
sn up with which to cultivate them.
here was no carpenter, or blacksmith, or
Tell-digger, within call; much less an
pholsterer, a milliner, a tailor, or q boot
Everything had to be fashioned
7 prepared by the cunning hand of the
sttler and his sons, Or the fair dame and
or dsughters-cabin, kettle, gown and
Doe, bed and bureau, beef and stew. It
nay serve to alleviate some of the mis-
ries Of our complaining and captious
enerstion to Know that our patient an
endured all these little annoy
and not only did not sink under
hem, but actually grew TO great stature
nd fair proportions, snd were enabled to
aise healthy, hearty, independent, self
children, who inherited from
heir hands good, improved estates in the
eighborhOOd Of a great and growing city,
they could learn to be viTtuous and
Apply under the influence of good schools
nd orthodox churches, or, ave us from
be picture, indulge in every form of
lxury and vice imported on the tide of
dvancing civilization.