It is pleasant and right to recount the noble deeds of our fathers, but far more pleasant to say something in praise of our gentle sisters, the heroines of the pioneer; she who rocked the cradle bed of childhood; our first, last and falthfullest friend. We would feel remiss in a chivalric duty did we fail to note her share in the great work of discovery and improvement, and it is only proper that we should record some encouraging word to her aspirations and advocate her claims to a just and proper place in the history of our great state. The trophies of the years that pass are a few immortalities gleaned from its sepulchre. Epochs, events, characters, that survive; oblivion is the common goal of the race. Whatever has contributed to human weal has been remembered, memorialized by cenotaph and mausoleum and remains with us on History's page. Their deeds shine on the pages of history, like stars blazing in the night, and their achievements have long been celebrated in song and story. Romulus and Remus founded an empire and their names are immortal. Columbus discovered a hew world and he stands unique in the sublime faith and courage which impelled him over an unknown sea. Honor has been rather partial in bestowing her gifts and Fame has placed her laurels chiefly on masculine brows, forgetting the countless heroines who were worthy of recognition. It is with great pride that we call attention to the fact that the pioneer women of Texas have proved themselves competent to fill positions other than presiding at the festal board, or beating out the rhythm of their blood with sandaled feet on polished floors, or strewing flowers in the path of the conqueror as he returns from the bloody carnage; for many noble names have swollen the list of those who have proven to the world that woman can be true and great even in the arduous duties incident to pioneer life. Bravely she has gone to the unprotected frontier, with no shelter but the crude cabin, the dugout or the open camp, where the winds whistled, wolves howled, where Indians yelled, and yet within that rude domicile, burning like a lamp, was the pure and stainless Christian faith, love, patience, fortitude and heroism. And as the Star of the East rested over the manger where Christ lay, so, speaking not irreverently, there rested over the roofs of the pioneers a star of the West, the star of Empire, and today that empire is the proudest in the world. The pioneer woman, though a creature of toil and loneliness and privation, she endured it with a constancy as changeless as the solitude and danger about her. She has borne her part in all the vicissitudes incident to the outposts of the borderland and her hands have assisted in kindling the fires on the confines of civilization to guide the wheels of empire outward, onward. Of necessity, the pioneer woman sacrificed more than the pioneer man, the finer texture of her being was less adapted to the rugged environments of pioneer life. However, as the tides of the ocean are forever faithful to the mysterious attraction of the moon, so woman has followed man across seas, over the mountains and into the deserts to witness his adventures and share his achievements. Those who lay the foundations of empire and extend the outposts of civilization are worthy of all honor, and especially is this true of the pioneer woman. If Texas today boasts of statesman or warrior, of patriots and freemen, of a civilization and a social fabric into which is inwrought the elements of permanency and progress, she owes it largely to her pioneer women who founded the first homes, worshipped in the first humble chapels erected to God on these western hills and boundless prairies now crowded with temples and churches and schools and institutions of learning, while the multitudinous tramp of a million feet are still heard in the distance coming this way to enjoy what these pioneer mothers purchased by their sacrifice and privation. It was not given to many of these leaders to enter into the fruits of their labors. This splendid civilization we enjoy today, the social vines that shelter us, the civic boughs whose clusters feed us, all spring from the seed sown, and the harvest of tears reaped by our pioneers, our old settlers. These pioneer women were familiar with much that has passed with the years, so rapidly have conditions changed. Be it said to their honor that in humble homes and with few advantages she did well her part; there was something in the lullaby that she sang to her children at twilight, in the sublime simplicity of her teachings that fostered a sturdy manhood and patriotism which was inwrought into the stalwart republic, the precursor of the Lone Star State. She has been scalped and tortured by the savage, and her blood has reddened these plains and valleys as all oblation on tile altar of empire. Her life and the tragic scenes through which she passed are each a romance where daring and adventure and sacrifice are the chief actors on its eventful pages.
All that is noblest in man is born of woman's constancy and deathless devotion to him. Knighthood found its inspiration in the pathos of her love and the charm of her smiles. Woman loves man, is jealous of his freedom, his liberty, his honor, and for him she sacrifices all. Heart and soul are the smallest things she immolates on any altar. The pioneer women of Texas robbed themselves out in drudgery and toil that their beauty might reappear in the structure their devoted bands built to liberty and progress. They buried themselves in these western solitudes, that from these living sepulchres might come the great pulse beat of a mighty nation, buoyant, chivalric, progressive civilization. They gave up the comforts and pleasures of society, severed the tenderest ties of the human heart, home and kindred, the old altars where they prayed, the graves of their loved and lost, these the dearest tidings to a woman's heart, that we today might enjoy in their fullest fruition what they lost. We may well be proud of the temper of these Texas heroines; their dear old hands it is true were familiar with toil, but they wrought faithfully and well, and their dear old hearts beat the prelude to the grand march of the empire. Their feet beat out the trail over the trackless prairie and across rugged mountains which has since widened into the great thoroughfares of commerce and travel; their tender hands planted the first flowers on the graves of those whose bones first reposed under Texas soil. God bless you, our dear pioneer women. We treasure you as trophies fresh from the field of victory; may your declining years be rewarded with the gratitude and appreciation of all who enjoy the blessings and privileges of this great country; may your last days be as the calm eventide that comes at the end of a quiet summer day when the sun is dying out of the west. We believe and admit it today that woman is heaven's "ideal of all that is pure and ennobling and lovely here, her love is the light of the cabin home." It is the one thing in the world that is constant, the one peak that rises above the cloud, the one window in which the light burns forever, the one star that darkness cannot quench--is woman's love. It rises to the greatest height, it sinks to the lowest depths, it forgives the most cruel injuries. It is perennial of life, and grows in every climate, neither coldness nor neglect, harshness nor cruelty can extinguish it. It is the perfume of the heart; it is this that has wrought all miracles of art, that gives us music all the way from the cradle song to the last grand symphony that bears the soul away on wings of joy. In the language of Petronius to Lygia, "May the white winged doves of peace build their nests in the rafters of your homes," may the gleams of happiness and prosperity shine on the pathway of your remaining days, and may the smile of an approving God be a lamp unto your feet and a light unto your pathway, guiding you safely across the frontier of time to a safe place beneath the shade of the trees on the other side.