A REMINDER OF THIRTY-THREE YEARS AGO, Smith County, TX                             
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Submitted by Linda M. Redding - maukabear@aol.com
29 May 2001 
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A REMINDER OF THIRTY-THREE YEARS AGO "Some Biographies of Old Settlers." 
Historical, Personal and Reminiscent. Volume I 
By Sid S. Johnson, 1900: Sid S. Johnson, Publisher, Tyler, Texas 
Chapter XCIII - Pages 369-372

The following ball ticket printed forty-three years ago is a reminder 
of what was going on in the fifties in Tyler:

                            CONVENTION BALL.

"You are respectfully invited to attend a ball to be given at the 
United States Court House, in Tyler, on the evening of the 12th of 
May, 1857."

                                MANAGERS.

"Bryan Marsh, R.B. Hubbard, S.M. Warner, A.O. Erwin, Jack Davis, B.T. 
Selman, Alf Davis, J.F. Warren, Thos. Wiggins, F.F. Foscue, E.E. Lott, 
J.C. Robertson."

The managerws comprised a list of the unlucky thirteen. Only four of 
the managers of the ball are living to-day: Ex-Governor Richard B. 
Hubbard and Col. Bryan Marsh, are citizens of Tyler, Texas; Jack Davis, 
of Polk county; F.F. Foscue, of Dallas county. The other nine have 
passed from the walks of man, over the river; the marble slab denotes 
the resting place of the dead. Let them have a passing notice:

S.M. Warner was a lawyer of fair ability, a writer of force. At that 
time he was the editor of the Tyler Reporter. He died since the war.

A.O. (Gus) Erwin was a leading Tyler merchant; prominent in business 
and social circles; a liberal hearted gentleman. Gus died a number of 
years ago.

Col. Geo. W. Chilton was a lawyer of marked ability--an eloquent 
advocate; knightly and generous; a gentleman of the Southern school 
of his day. He died since the civil war.

John Davis another lawyer of ability and a good practice; a scrapper 
from Scrapperville; lives in Polk county, Texas. He is loyal to 
Southern manhood--a man of warm impulses.

B.T. Selman, a plodding lawyer who succeeded in his profession, under 
whom the writer read law. Selman was a man of force and character, 
and in a sledge-hammer way forced himself to the front. He was a 
state senator and politician of note. He, too, died since the civil 
war.

Alf Davis--the genial Alf--was popular with the ladies and had the 
confidence and friendship of the men. Alf was an early clerk, then a 
merchant. Alf was a dresser, band-box fellow, and always led in the 
latest fashion. Alf moved to Eaton, Georgia, since the civil war, 
where he became a banker. He died there.

James F. Warren, a member of the Tyler bar, gifted, brilliant and 
witty. A versatile fellow all round. Could have made his mark, but, 
Jim, the companionable and genial associate, was too fond of his 
"cups," the bane that wrecks so many bright men. He died at Quitman, 
Texas, several years ago.

Thomas Wiggins, a druggist with the firm of Felton & Wiggins, about 
1859 and '61. Tom was a young man of pleasing address and very 
popular. He was a knightly young man, and died near the close of the 
civil war.

F.F. Foscue, another member of the legal fraternity, and a gentleman 
of learning and bright scholarship. He is a banker at Arlington, 
Dallas county, Texas.

Col. E.E. Lott, a State Senator, a member of Congress during the 
life of the Republic of Texas, the best electioneerer Texas ever 
had, was a prominent farmer and politician. Col. Lott died at 
Starrville, Texas, in 1864.

J.C. Robertson possessed a judicial mind, was a great lawyer and a 
successful advocate. He was a judge of acute discrimination, and a 
popular man. He reached the top round as a lawyer, and died a few 
years ago.

Four living, nine dead, is the record Time has made. Those who live 
to-day will end the chapter of the thirteen. Four remain who managed 
the ball, witnessed the pleasures of the evening nearly one-half a 
century ago. Only four to tell of the gay crowd, the sweet strains 
of music, the measured tread of dancing feet. The blushing maden 
listened to love-cooing beaux, blushinglyt answered with sweet 
accents of modest prudence. But, oh! where is that gay throng of 
happy young people who where present on that evening? Time with its 
scythe has nearly reaped the harvest and only four remain as living 
representatives of the unlucky number thirteen.

The ravages of Time surely does its work. The youth becomes old, and 
the blossom withers; a few days, and then the messenger, on a white 
horse calls, and the end has come.