Blazing The Way Part 45

Mr. Prosch and his father, Charles Prosch, with several other members of his family, arrived in the state and in Seattle between the years 1849 and 1857. Gen. M. M. Carver, the founder of Tacoma, who was Mrs. Thomas Prosch's father, came to the territory in 1843 with Dr. Whitman, who was ma.s.sacred, with Applegate and Nesmith.

Time and strength would fail me did I attempt to obtain and record accounts of many well known pioneers; I must leave them to other more capable writers. However, I will briefly mention some who were prominent during my childhood.

The Hortons, Dexter Horton and Mrs. Horton, the latter a stout, rosy-cheeked matron whose house and garden, particularly the dahlias growing in the yard, elicited my childish admiration. I remember how certain little pioneer girls were made happy by a visit from her, at which time she fitted them with her own hands some pretty grey merino dresses trimmed with narrow black velvet ribbon. Also how one of them was impressed by the sorrow she could not conceal, the tears ran down her cheeks as she spoke of a child she had lost.

One family have never forgotten the Santa Claus visit to their cottage home, the same being impersonated by Dexter Horton, who departed after leaving some substantial tokens of his good will.

The pioneer ministers of the Gospel were among the most fearless of foundation builders. Reverends Wm. Close, Alderson, Franklin, Doane, Bagley, Whitworth, Belknap, Greer, Mann, Atwood, Hyland, Prefontaine, and others; of Rev. C. Alderson, who often visited my father and mother, Hon. Allen Weir has this to say:

"I remember very clearly when, during the 'sixties,' Brother Alderson used to visit the settlement in which my father's family lived at Dungeness, in Clallam county, Washington Territory. He was then stationed at White River, twelve miles or more south of Seattle. There was no Tacoma in those days. To reach Dungeness, Brother Alderson had to walk over a muddy road a dozen miles or more to Seattle, then by the old steamer Eliza Anderson to Port Townsend, and then depend upon an Indian canoe twenty-five miles to the old postoffice at Elliot Cline's house. After his arrival it would require several days to get word pa.s.sed around among the neighbors so as to get a preaching announcement circulated.

Sometimes he would preach at Mr. Cline's house, sometimes at Alonzo Davis', and sometimes at my father's. He was literally blazing the trail where now is an highway. The first announcement of these services in the Dungeness river bottom was when a bearded, muddy-booted old bachelor from Long Prairie stopped to halloo to father and interrupt log piling and stump clearing long enough to say: 'H-a-y! Mr. Weir! The's a little red-headed Englishman goin' to preach at Cline's on Sunday! Better go an'

git your conschense limbered up.' Everybody knew the road to Cline's. At each meeting the audience was limited to the number of settlers within a dozen miles. All had to attend or proclaim themselves confirmed heathen. The preacher, who came literally as the 'Voice of one crying in the wilderness,' was manifestly not greatly experienced at that time in his work--but he was intensely earnest, courageous, outspoken, a faithful messenger; and under his ministrations many were reminded of their old-time church privileges 'back in old Mizzoory,' in 'Kentuck,' or in 'Eelinoy,' or elsewhere. I remember that to my boyish imagination it seemed a wonderful amount of 'grit' was required to carry on his gospel work. He made an impression as an honest toiler in the vineyard, and was accepted at par value for his manly qualities.

He was welcomed to the hospitable homes of the people. If we could not always furnish yellow-legged chickens for dinner we always had a plentiful supply of bear meat or venison.

"After Brother Alderson returned to Oregon I never met him again, except at an annual conference in Albany (in 1876, I think it was), but I always remembered him kindly as a st.u.r.dy soldier of the Cross who improved his opportunities to administer reproof and exhortation. The memory is a benediction."

Of agreeable memory is Mrs. S. D. Libby, to whom the pioneer women were glad to go for becoming headgear--and the hats were very pretty, too, as well as the wearers, in those days. Good straw braids were valued and frequently made over by one who had learned the bleacher's and shaper's art in far Illinois.

A little pioneer girl used often to rip the hats to the end that the braids might be made to take some new and fashionable form.

"The beautiful Bonney girls," Emmeline, Sarah and Lucy, afterward well known as Mrs. Sh.o.r.ey, Mrs. G. Kellogg and Mrs. Geo. Harris, might each give long and interesting accounts of early times. Others I think of are the John Ross family, whose sons and daughters are among the few native white children of pioneer families of Seattle (the Ross family were our nearest neighbors for a long time, and good neighbors they were, too); the Peter Andrews family, the Maynards, who were among the earliest and most prominent settlers; Mrs. Maynard did many a kindness to the sick; the Samuel Coombs family, of whom "Sam Coombs," the patriarch, known to all, is a great lover and admirer of pioneers; Ray Coombs, his son, the artist, and Louisa, his daughter, one of the belles of early times; the L. B. Andrews family; Mr. Andrews was a friend of Grandfather John Denny, and himself a pioneer of repute; his fair, pleasant, blue-eyed daughter was my schoolmate at the old U., then new; the Hanfords, valued citizens, now so distinguished and so well known; Mrs. Hanford's account of the stirring events of early days was recognized and drawn from by the historian Bancroft in compiling his great work; the De Lins; the Burnetts, long known and much esteemed; the Sires family; the Harmons, Woodins, Campbells, Plummers, Hinds, Weirs of Dungeness, later of Olympia, of whom Allen Weir is well known and distinguished; yes, and Port Gamble, Port Madison, Steilacoom and Olympia people, what volumes upon volumes might have been, might be written--it will take many a basket to hold the chips to be picked up after their and our _Blazing the Way_.

HAIL, AND FAREWELL.

Heroic Pioneers!

Of kings and conquerors fully peers; Well may the men of later day Proclaim your deeds, crown you with bay; Forest-fallers, reigning kings, In that far time that memory brings.

Nor savage beast, nor savage man, Majestic forests' frowning ban, Could palsy arms or break the hearts, Till wilds gave way to busy marts; You served your time and country well, Let tuneful voices paeans swell!

O, steadfast Pioneers!

Bowed 'neath the snows of many years, Your patient courage never fails, Your strong true prayers arise, E'en from the heavenly trails To "mansions in the skies."

To n.o.ble ones midst daily strife, And those who've crossed the plains of life, Far past the fiery, setting sun, The dead and living loved as one, (Tolls often now the pa.s.sing bell) We greeting give and bid farewell.

O Mother Pioneers!

We greet you through our smiles and tears; You laid foundations deep, Climbed oft the sun-beat rocky steep Of sorrow's mountain wild, Descended through the shadowy vales Led by the little child.

Within, without your cabins rude As toiling builders well you wrought, With busy hands and constant hearts, And eager children wisdom taught; Long be delayed the pa.s.sing bell, Long be it ere we say "Farewell!"

Beloved Pioneers!

Whom glory waits in coming years, You planted here with careful hand The youngest scion in our land Cut from the tree of Liberty; To fullest stature it shall grow, With fruitful branches bending low, Your worth then shall the people know.

When all your work on earth is done, Your marches o'er and battles won, (No more will toll the pa.s.sing bell) They'll watch and wait at Heaven's gate To bid you Hail! and nevermore, Farewell!