The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-02-13
FHYKRAL DIScnHRSE

1
Delivered by the Rev Fl. NJ. Simmons
of Minneapolis, MIMI, on Wednesday
D the 4th of February. 1885, on the oc-
casion of the funeral Of Mr.. Alvin G.
French. of the town of Pleasant Prairie,
D who died Sunday, Feb. l, aged So years
: The discourse is valuable for its his
D torical facts, and is just tribute to
the memory Of one of the Oldest settlers
in the county.
Mr.. Nathan r. Allen, the earliest
pioneer of Kenosha county, now lIv-
ing here. once told me how he in COM
+ ing met a still earlier settler. the first
f man he saw in tn region. 1t was one
summer day in 1885. just fifty years
ago this. Weary with his long and
and lonely walk from Chicago along
the Indian trail. Mr.. Allen was at
length cheered by seeing in the dis
lance some men moving the wild grass
not far from the spot where We meet
today, and at once sought their ac-
lquaintance. The leader of the now
lers introduced himself as Alvin G
French. lie had come a few weeks
before from his Eastern home to try
his fortunes and take his part in sub
DUNG the Western wilderness.
| Wisconsin was still only territory;
and all this region belonged to Brown
county, and had its county seat at
Green Bay. Kenosha was name still
anspoken, save in the language of In
dians. The few settlers who had just
/ driven their stakes there were content
to call the place Pike River, and it was
Only in their dreams that they felt
sure the settlement would become
city. No vessel had yet so much as |
stopped off shore there. No roads ran |
through all this region except Indian |
trails, and Indians still Travelled them. |
| Only a few months before there had |
not been white man within ten miles |
of where we stand. But that spring |
of 1886 a few had come and taken |
claims, and among the first was Mr. |
French. He built his little cabin on |
the edge of the woods yonder; he kept |
busy through the summer and autumn, |
blowing the prairie and cutting hay |
for the winter. [ remember reading |
how hard he worked that first winter, |
and with his own strong arm split |
several thousand rails to fence his |
farm.
Free from the restlesSness that |
marked so many of those early settlers
and soon moved them on, Mr.. French |
had come to stay. Without the specu |
lative spirit that sought for sudden |
wealth in city lots, he patiently kept |
to the farm. Avoiding the petty quar- |
rels of the pioneer days, he attended |
peaceably to his own business. and |
toiled on from year to year. By the |
same qualities by feelings free from
the envy and discomfort which ma" e |
most of our troubles, by industrious |
habits and by temperance in all his
ways-he kept the vigor that nature |
gave him, and decayed not like most |
men. He had been born with the
nineteenth century, and was already |
in middle life when ne came here; yet |
the years and decades went by and he
showed no signs of failing His cabin
gave way to a gOodly house, and his |
claim became a fine farm. He saw
Pike River grow to Southport, and |
Southport to Kenosha; saw the creek |
with it's closed mouth turn toa deep har-
Dor, and the Indian trail to a railroad,
bearing almost through his farm it's
swift and ceaseless current of travel and |
trade. He saw the country around him |
fill with people, land Wisconsin become a
wealthy state; and through the vast
Northwest for thousand miles and
more beyond; he saw the wilderness
turn to wheat fields, and the huts of
savages to great cities astir with all |
the activities Of civilization. When
he was boy, it was seriously said by
Mr.. Livingston. at the Court of
France, that we should not send an
emigraut west of the Mississippi River
in hundred years. Yet before he
reached bis three score and ten, a large
part Of our population was west of the
Mississippi, and pianos were played
and Plato read in the Rocky Noun
tains. Yet still he lived on. until, by
reason of strength and good habits, his
wears were four score and four So
long was bis life, and so much of our
national history is covered by the fifty
years he spent on this farm And
though it is sad that we must keep
the m'-centennial of his coming by
his funeral, still the sorrow is softened
by the thought IF the unusual length
and fullneSs of the life he led.
A very successful life, too, it, was,
when measured by the best standards.
Christopher Wren's epitaph in the
great ca hedral he built, says, "If you
wish monument, look around" So
o-day we have but to look around us
to see Mr.. French's monuments
sacred in it's way as a cathedral. Here
stands the house he. built-a lasting
house for others, where parents shalI T
blend their lives for blessing, and hap
py children shall grow, and love shall
sing its Old song. The farm he fenced
and redeemed from the wilderness
shall speak his praises still more broad
ly through its every C 'op. His eulOgy
will be written in these waving mead
ows, and will sound in the ruStling
grain; and many a tree be planted will
grow green with each returning May,
and give It's graceful shade to men and
cattle-more beautiful and blessed
than any marble monument. If the
man is blessed who makes two grass
blades grow where one grew before.
how much he who has enriched SO
many acres Many city fortunes rise
and fall ar d leave far less results. And
in my opinion, hero of the battle field
rarely does so coed a work for the
world as such toiler in the fields Of
| peace.
Nor has Mr.. French's work ended |
with the fields, but has aided in finer
growth of feelings and will continue
in crops of the soul. which outweigh |
those of the soil. The industry and
integrity he showed; his scorn for all
that was mean and unmanly, and his
sympathy for what is generous and
good; his rugged independence. and
yet his care and kindness for others
these qualities which his neigh
bors know better than can tell them,
make moral and spiritual sowing in
the soil of society which ripens into a
| ;olo He