Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1906-07-16

hioucih cloquence Ill thc olu iioih'
week speech of Col. Watterson a.
Louisville, Kentucky. 1t was a speech
OF welcome to the returning sons anC
daughters of Kentucky and the famous
Blue Grass orator and editor spoke In
his happieSt vein. 1t follows in ful
and is we'll worth reading and preserv-
ing.
once Kentuckian, always Ken
tuckian. From the cradle to the
grave, the arms of the motheriand
stretched forth in mother loVe-tht
bosom of the motherland. immortal as
the ages. yet mortal in maternal affec-
ton. warmed by the rich, red blood Ol
Nirginia-the voice of the mOtherland
reaching the farthest corners of the
earth in tones Of heavenly music
summon the errant to the roof-tree's
shade and bid the Wanderer home
What wanderer yet was ever loath td
come? Whether upon the heights OF
fortune and fame, or down amid the
shadows of the valley of death and
despair. the true Kentuckian. seeing
the shining eyes and hearing the
mother CALL sends back the answering
refrain
Where'er l roam, whatever realms / see.
My heart, untraveled. tondly turns to
thee,
Behold. in this great, exultant multitude,
the proof.
Kentucky. old Kentucky! The very
name has had a charm, has wrought a
SPELL has made a melody all its own;
has woven on it's Sylvan loom glory
quite apart from the glory of Virginia,
Kentuckys mother, and the glory OF
Tennessee kentucky's sister. 1t has
bloOmed in all hearts where manhood
The drama of the ages, told in pulse
beats. finds here an interlude which
fiction vainly emulates and history
may not O'erleap. Not as the Greek,
seeking Promethean fire and oracles
of DelphoS, nor as the Roman filled
with the joy of living and the lust OF
conquest; not as the Viking, springing
to the call of wind and wave. nor as
the Latin, dazZled by the glitter of
gold, mad with the thirst for glory;
neither as the BritOn and the Teuton,
eager for mastership on land and sea,
the Kentuckian, whom we. in filial
homage, salute prOgenitor. He was
as none of these. Big i'm bone and
strong of vOice-the full-grown man
profigured by the psalmist-never the
ocean mirrored his fancies, nor snow
clad peaks that reach the skies in
spired; but the mystery of strange
lands, the savagery of nature and the
song of the greenwood tree.
The star that shone above him and
led him on was love of liberty. the
beacon of his dreams, the light of the
fireside. He cut a clearing in the
wildwood and called it home. He
read not romance, he made it; nor
poetry, he lived it; his the forest epic.
the Iliad of the canbrake, the Odyssey
of the frontier. the unconscious prose-
poem of the rifle and the camp, the
blockhouse and the pillow. the Holy
Bible and the old field school!
Happy the man who has sat in
childhood upon a well loved grandsire's
knee, awed by the telling of the
wondrous tale; how even as the
Dardanae followed Aeneas, the
Virginians followed Boone; the route
from Troy to Tiber not wearier. nor
thanked by greater hazard, than that
betwixt the shores of the Chesapeake
and the falls of the Ohio; the noun
tains standing gorgonlike, across the
painless way, as if, defending each
defile, to hold inviolate some dread.
forbidden secret; the weird wastes of
wilderness beyond; the fordless
stream; the yawning chasm; the CLEAN
of the tomahawk and the hiss of the
serpent; yet ever onward, spite of the
haunting voice of the elements.
stripped for the death struggle with
man, spite of the silence and the
solitude of reluctant nature, like some
fawn-eyed maiden. resisting his rude
intrusion; ever onward; before him
the promised land of the hunters
vision; in his soul the grace of God.
the fear of hell and the love of
Virginia.
God bless Virginia! Heaven smile
upon her as she prepares to celebrate
with fitting right three centuries of
ma estic achievement, the star-crOwn
upon her brow, the diStaff in her hand,
nor spot nor blur to dim the radiance
| of her shield!
They came. the Virginians, in their
warrant their rifles; their payment the
blood of heroes; nor yet forgetting a
prOverb the Chinese have that sit
needs a hundred men to make for
tress but only woman can make a
home"-fOr they We're quick to go
back for their woman; their wives and
| their sweethearts; our grandmOthers,
| who stood by their side beautiful and
ldauntless, to load their fowling pieces.
to dress their wounds. to cheer them
on to battle. singing their simple
requiem over the dead at Boones-
borough and bring water from the
spring at Bryan's station. heart
broken only when the news came back
from the river Raisin.
l am here to welcome you in the
name of all the people of this lovely
city, in the name of all the people of
| this renowned commonwealth. to well
come you as kth and kin; but you
will not expect me, l am sure, to add
thereto more than the merest outline
of the history of Kentucky as it is
known to each and every one of you.
from the time when the pathfinders.
under the lead of Harrod and Hender-
/ afD hei