THE OLD HOME WEEK BOOK
History of the Village of Prospect, PA

Transcribed and Donated by Robert A. Stumpf

Chapter XVI

House Cleaning

"An Ordinance for the Paving of Sidewalks in the Borough of Prospect"

"By virtue of the authority vested in us, we, the Burgess and Town Council of the Borough of Prospect, do ordain, and it is hereby enacted, that on or before the first day of July 1874, pavements of wood, stone, or brick shall be constructed in a substantial and workmanlike manner, on the sidewalks hereinafter enumerated, to wit:

1st., New Castle and Butler street on south side, from residence of George B. Waren to that of James Harvey; on north side, from residence of Absalom Shaner to Methodist church.

2nd., Pittsburgh and Franklin street oneast side, from residence of James McGowan to north side of U.P. church property; west side, from tan-yard of H. Dick to weigh scales of John Martincourt, said pavement to be six feet in width.

3rd., Also, on east side of last named street, from aforesaid weigh-scales to Lutheran parsonage, and on the west side of U.P. church lot to residence of George Green.

4th., On west side of street-----, from Primary School House to Butler street.

5th., On south side of Church street, from Frankln to Perry street.

On east side of Lafayette, from Butler to Church street, said pavements to be four feet in width. If made of plank or boards, these shall be laid and spiked on stringers not less than two inches by six, or four by four, which stringers shall be placed not more than two and one half feet apart under a six foot walk, nor more than two feet apart under a four foot walk.

If not constructed within specified time according to the above mentioned regulations, they will be constructed according to law at the expense of the property holders.

Further, and by the Same Authority

Be it and it is hereby ordained, that no obstruction shall be allowed to remain on the streets and sidewalks within the Borough limits after the first day of May, 1874.

Also, that no swine be permitted to go at large on the streets of the said Borough after the same date. All action by former Councils contrary to or conflicting with the above, is hereby in accordance with resolution of the Council, adopted March 1st, 1874, declared null and void.

By order of the Council of the Borough of Prospect.

John M. Roth, Secretary. George W. Fisher, Burgess

April 9, 1874.

There is the true copy of the official document which started the tidying and improving that has gone forward until now. The trim concrete sidewalks, shady streets and clean, well-kept lawns and gardens which greet the eye of the visitor of to-day, speak of the refinement and cleanliness of the houses they surround and adorn. The general appearance of order, comfort and solidity which is the distinguishing feature of the place, reminds one of the older villages of New England and speaks favorably for the people of the town. A community is judged by the appearanceof its streets and cemeteries; for these are property in common and may be neglected with less detriment to the property of the individual than his own personal holdings. Therefore, where selfishness prevails, the schools, roads and graveyards are neglected and show it. Bt where public spirit prevails and the general welfare is considered these public properties receive the care and attention due them.

It is one of the pleasant recollections of the writer that it was he who wrote and talked and agitated to get shade-trees set along the streets and drafted the foregoing ordinance which resulted in the laying of sidewalks on all the streets most in use, shut up the swine and banished predatory cows and filthy geese from the public ways. How well the state of things come back to memory! Old wagons and decrepit buggies, broken plows, harrows, hay-ladders and bob-sleds clustered around the wagon-maker's shops, with heaps of rotten shavings under foot and piles of stacked lumber in the background. In front of the blacksmith shops a similar collection of dilapidated vehicles and broken farming utensils and implements, decorated the scene with the sweepings of black anvil-dust and the parings of horses hoofs for a change from shavings.The shoemakers had their "sign" out in the form of leather-scraps and old shoes and boots littering the sidewalk. The store-keepers, not to be above their neighbors, kept an assortment of non-portable goods in the form of barrels of salt, kegs of fish, plows and packing-boxes on the pavement. A big mud-hole by the hitching rail, in which the swine wallowed when the horses hadn't their fore-feet in it, further variegated the scenery; the farmers drove in, hitched their team and went after their business and then the town cows came, stood on the wheels, reached in and ate the hay and straw from the bottom of the wagon-bed, fighting for the privilege until not a straw was left. Nearly every family burned wood and the woodpile was in the most convenient spot along side of the street in front of the street. The alleys were lined with pig-pens, stables and other buildings from which horrible odors issued to contaminate the air and breed contagion.

But the condition of things was not destined to endure. The young fellows who are now old fellows, laid their heads together and determined to "clean house." The old fellows who are now dead and gone -- peace to their ashes! had the money, owned the property, and opposed any change which made them any trouble or raised their taxes. The young fellows, however, had the votes and after they had consulted on the situation and outlined their plans of campaign, they nominated their candidates, electioneered for them on a platform calling for general clearing up and elected them. Then the sidewalk ordinance was passed, the pigs and geese and cows kept off the streets, and a new era in village government introduced. What the little beginning has resulted in, the present "spick and span" appearance of te town proclaims. But the work is not finished and never wiil be finished. It is a recurring work. As refuse accumulates it must be removed. As encroachments on public coveniences occur the proper limitations must be reasserted and enforced. Every public improvement is opposed by somebody and often by many persons; but the improvements should go on. More trees should be planted along the streets. They beautify the landscape, they are an adjunct to healthfulness and they attract birds.

It would be a fine move for the public spirited young fellows of this generation to organize themselves into a Public Improvement Society, but the tract of land down the Stony Batter road, incorporate it in the Borough, and preserve it for a play-ground for all generations -- you all know, the thirty or forty acres down the Long Run where the ruins of the two old mills stand.

THE OLD HOME WEEK BOOK
History of the Village of Prospect, PA

Transcribed and Donated by Robert A. Stumpf

Chapter XVII

Surveying the Franklin Road, The Big Storm, Jacky Jones and Buckheart.

And now as to the survey of the Franklin Road, two incidents have come down to us -- thanks to the retentive memory of Mr.David Shannon, then an octogenarian, whom the writer interviewed many years ago, (1875). One of these incidents is to the effect that Andrew McGowan, the principal land-owner in actual possession at the time -- about 1820 -- being averse to the projected improvement or at least opposed to innovation, when the new road was to be cut, that is, when the forest trees were to be cut away, objected to it most strenuously and threatened summary vengeance on the man who dared venture on his land for that purpose. The supervisor then appointed several men to open fences and begin operations. Mr. Shannon was one of the men thus detailed and he said that as they went through the farm opening the fences, McGowan followed them with his rifle at a distance of about one hundred yards, threatening at every fence to shoot them if they dared touch it; but he did not shoot -- with the rifle. The little cluster of log cabins around Tommy Sullivan's store on the Diamond was at that time called McGowan's Town. One of the McGowan girls was married to Alex Stoughton who built the house in which the writer was born. It was bought by Lewis Roth together with the fifteen acres south of the New Castle road on which it stood, which tract he afterward laid out in town lots. The price he paid was fifteen hundred dollars.

The other incident petaining to the Franklin road is this: From Whitestown to Prospect it is laid out with some peculiar and unaccountable curves. The explanation for these is given by Mr. Shannon. It was N.10 degrees W. and then N.12 W. and after a short distance due N. again, when, from the lay of the land, it might have been perfectly straight; but the idea prevailed, when the road was surveyed, that it should be laid out to accomodate the taverns that stood near the proposed route. The elbow in it where it bends weatward at the Diamond is accounted for by the tradition that Jacky Jones met the viewers at that point with a demijohn of the potent beverage of the pioneer and bribed them therewith to slant the line westward as far as his cabin by the big spring where the Lutheran Parsonage now stands. But this is legendary -- though Jacky Jones is not. He was a Welshman of somewhat eccentric character. Mr. McGowan sold ten acres of land to David Shannon and Samuel Riddle, their intention being to lay out streets and building lots for the advantage of themselves and the town but when this intention was discoveed by Mr. McGowan he refused to give them a deed and the sale was never consummated. But Jacky Jones had a four hundred acre tract which he had bought at two dollars per acre, but of which te title was in dispute. He had never paid for it entirely and, as he was somewhat given to his cups, the probabilty was that he never would be able to pay for it, the consequence of which would be, of course, that he would lose the payments he had already made. All this troubled him exceedingly, and drove him to deeper draughts of the intoxicating bowl. One day in 1819, as our venerable oracle Mr. Shannon was at work in his mill, Jacky put in an appearance. He did not state his business but sat about all day as though he had something on his mind which he wished to say and did not like to. Toward evening, however, he mustered courage to say to Mr. Shannon that he had a great secret which he wished to confide to him. So he shut down the mill and sat down with him and heard his story. He had received a letter from Wales stating that he had fallen heir to a certain sum of money, to obtain which it was necessary that he should appear at his old home in person, otherwise he would not get it. His object in coming to Mr. Shannon was to get his assistance. He had been trying to borrow the money needful for the trip to the od country; but his drinking propensity was so well known that he had failed everywhere. Mr. Henry Buechle, who was known as the "Banker of Lancaster Township," had, however, so far trusted him as to promise the loan of one hundred dollars on condition that Mr.Shannon would bail him. This, after seeing the letter and hearing the details of his story, he agreed to do; so he got the money. It was not unusual at that time for the men to go, when work could not be prosecuted to advantage at home, and pu in a couple of the winter months working at one of the neighboring furnaces. So as soon as he got his money, old Jacky gave out that he was going to Bear Creek Furnace to work, not telling even his wife to the contrary. Then, instead of going to the furnace, he went to Wales, and in a few weeks surprised every body by returning with his legacy and paying off the money he had borrowed and the balance due on his land. Sfter he had a clear title, he laid out lots, made a great sale, gathered about him many of his countrymen, so many, in fact, that it would appear that, at that time, there were more Welshmen in Prospect than people of any other nationality, these and their descendents have disappeared or been absorbed, so that little trace of them remain.

It was about the time of the sale of these lots that the great cyclone swept the country. This storm occurred in 1824, so that it must have been several years after the old gentleman's return that the lots forming the northwest quarter of the town were sold. At all events the storm and sale occurred about the same time which chronology is accurate enoug for present purposes. Cowan's church over in Muddy Creek Township was blown away and a Welsh wooden shoe-maker in Prospect was killed by it. Think of the citizens of Prospect clattering about in sabots! The timber was destroyed in the wake of the tornado. Clearing fallen timber was the order of the day. We have been informed that the Henshaw farm, a tract of eighty acres, was given to Jacob Henshaw (whose name ws proerly Handschuh), for clearing the other eighty acres of the original one hundred and sixty acre tract. My mother told me that after the storm she picked up linen marked with the name of a person unknown in that neighborhood. Aunt Sallie Strain was then a girl coming into womanhood. She was attending the sugar-camp, gathering the sap from the maple trees and boiling it down to molasses and sugar. When the storm broke she was alone in the sugar-grove where she took refuge in the log-built camp in front of which the kettles hung. The fierce roar of the tempest and the ominous darkening of the sky terrified her and when the great forest trees began to crash and fall about her she crouched in the corner of the cabin and prayed to God to protect her. And God heard her prayers and answered them. A huge tree was blown over and fell across the corner of the stout logs behind which she crouched, but a profecting limb and her wall of logs prvented it from crushing her, and although she was shut in by the debris of broken branches around her and encompased on every side, by God's mercy she had escaped without a scratch.

My grandfather, Henry Buechle, was out in that storm with a yoke of oxen. They were shut in by falling trees on all sides so that it was several days before a road could be cut to liberate the cattle. Feed and water were carried to them while they were thus imprisoned. Mr. McCulloch writes: "I often heard my grandfather White speak of that incident. Your grandfather was one of the strongest men in that section and he owned the strongest yoke of oxen."

The track of this tremendous storm could be traced from North-west to South-east across the country for miles, fifty years after it passed in its devastating course, since all the timber in its way was second-growth, the original forest being all destroyed where it raged.

When my grandfather, Colonel David Roth came into this community he opened a blacksmith shop on his farm. He was often troubled by persons coming to him with articles of cast metal which they wished to have mended or made into something else; old pots, kettles and the like. When such a customer came he was obliged to have an argument to prove that the casting could not be hammered out like wrought iron. But he soon developed a better plan. He would inspect the old pot critically and then say, "Oh yes, I can mend it if it will stand the hammer." Then he would set it on his anvil and with a sharp blow from the hammer send the pieces flying all over the shop, to the astonishment of the customer and his own amusement.

On one occasion Jacky Jones came to "Rhodes's Shop", as it was familiarly known, with a broken shoe-maker's hammer which he wished to have made into a stone-wedge. So, when Mr. Roth went to dinner, the old fellow took his shoe-hammer with the tongs, put it in the fire, blew the bellows and soon had it red-hot. Then he took it out and, laying it on the anvil,began to hammer it. At first he tapped lightly but, not making any impression grew impatient and struck a mighty blow with all his strength, smashed it to pieces and sent the red-hot metal flying in every direction. One piece unfortunately dropped into his shoe and the first intimation there was trouble in his blacksmithing operations, came from his howls of pain from the burning metal in his shoe. When Mr.Roth ran out to see what was wrong he found him dancing about the shop with one foot in the air, yelling and anathematizing the "rotten iron" at the top of his voice. He relieved him as soon as possible and then heard his story, which he afterward told with many a chuckle.

This eccentric old Jacky Jones was cured of his drinking propensity in a very peculiar manner. His good wife, whom he loved dearly and treated with all kindness, would go after him when she suspected he was in too convivial company and kindly request him to come home. No matter who was in hearing she would go to him, lay her hand on his shoulder, and in a mild, tender tone of voice say to him, "Come home, Jacky. There's a dear man; come home with me now." And no matter his condition he invariably consented and went with her. But all her pleading could not effect his cure, which was finally brought about in the following manner.

A fellow countryman, Henry Thomas, who was a good friend of Mr.Jones, had erected a powder-mill in Prospect. This "mill" was a plain log cabin funished with a mortar and pestle for pulverizing the component parts of the powder, a couple of three legged stools and such other articles as a bachelor's den of that period and place would be likely to contain. The man, Thomas, was a keen hunter and would roam over half the county following game. He was a little man who wore his hair and beard unshorn, flying about his ears, and his head covering was lways a racoon-skin cap, made with tails hanging down the back and either side. The powder he made was not good because it dirtied the guns too soon, but it would explode. Around his fire-place he had built a low screen of logs, some two or three feet high, to prevent the sparks from flying out and igniting the powder in process of manufacture, and frequently, on a cold night, he would go in behind the barricade and sleep there close to the fire. One evening as he was peacefully slumbering there, old Jacky Jones came into the cabin probably not knowing clearly where he was or what he was doing, drew up a stool by the mortar full of powder and proceeded to fill his pipe. When his was accomplished he produced the flint and steel and attempted light it but in endeavoring to do so, knocked a spark into the powder. The consequence was an explosion that shook the house, terrified the already bewildered Jacky and roused Thomas abruptly from his sleep. Out from behind the barrier he came with a yell, his hair and racoon tails flying in wild disorder, and with his begrimed face and frightful gestures, scared all the little sense remaining out of the now thoroughly terrified old man, who supposing that nothing else than the devil was after him, broke from the door with a blood-curdling howl and ran for home faster than ever he went before. Nothing could ever convince him after that encounter that he had not been pursued by his Satanic Majesty, and the effect of it was that he was never known to drink to excess again.

Still further back in the dim recesses of legendary lore, such tales were related about the camp-fires of the settlers, as the following:

As to Buckheart, there was the story of the enchanted buck and the incident of the crooked log. Buckheart, as was known by all the pioneers, was a mighty hunter in the early days when men and their families lived chiefly upon the game brought down by the trusty rifle. In hose days a certain buck of immense size had roamed the forest so long unscathed by the many bullets fired at him by the unerring marksmen, that he seemed to bear a charmed life. Buckheart himself had shot at him at close range and failed to bring him down. He considered the circumstances carefully and arrived at the conclusion that the buck was bewitched or enchanted, and resolved to work the charm on him, lnown to all frontiersmen as unfailing. He cast a silver bullet, cut on it a cross, loaded his rifle and took to the woods. Soon he struck the trail, followed it up to the head of a brook, ascended the slope, carefully crawling on his hands and knees and finally moving like a snake, flat on the ground, pushing his gun ahead. For he heard a thrashing in the bushes on the other side of the rise, for which he was at a loss to account. He surmised that there might be a fight of wild animals of some kind going on or that perchance some serpent had fallen afoul of a Fisher. Finally, with bated breath and in perfect silence, he gained the summit, peered over the ridge, finger on trigger ready to shoot, and there lo, and behold! he saw a log rolling, turning, twusting about, a log so crooked that it couldn't lie still. He looked in astonishment till he was convinced his eyes did not deceive him, then arose, out with his hunting-axe, cut stakes and staked it down. Then he circled and took the trail again. Following this he came down a low swale into a little glade and there, before him under a wide-spreading-beech, directly facing him, stood the noble buck, with all his magnificent proportions outlined against the sky. A look of resignation was on its countenance. As Buckheart drew the bead and pulled the trigger that sped the charmed bullet to its mark between the eyes of the buck, he heard it exclaim, "Lord, Buckheart, you've got me now!" These things must be true for Buckheart averred them to be true until his dying day. The buck weighed just 534 lbs. 8 oz., avoirdupois on old Jimmy Roger's steel-yards. His antlers had a spread of 7 feet 9¾ inches by lineal measurement from tip to tip with a cotton string and his hide was tanned and half made into a pair of buckskin breeches which Buckheart wore as long as he lived and the other half was made into a drum-head that was beaten all through the Revolutionary War and may now be looked for on the drum in the Smithsonian Institute at the National Capitol where perhaps it hangs in a conspicuous position among other interesting relics of the memorable struggle for our American Independence.

Haec fabula docet. When you tell a yarn tell it so big that nobody will be injured.

THE OLD HOME WEEK BOOK
History of the Village of Prospect, PA

Transcribed and Donated by Robert A. Stumpf

Chapter XVIII

Christmas

Winter brought its work and play according to its season. There was always work enough to occupy the hands and recreation enough to lighten the labor. When the first good fall of snow came, our community received the card announcing its annual visitor. A beautiful card, too, it was in its way; pure white, with frosted edges, skeleton leaves and delicate tracery of ice-pictures and fair work cleverly interwoven on its pretty face. It announced not only that the guest was coming, but that he was here. Winter has come. To some indeed, an unwelcome guest, but to many, bearing upon his bosom, frosty. but kindly, one blossom of the sweetest joy for all. Spring has its flowers and Summer, too, millions and millions of them, pure and fresh from the Hand of God, but Winter bears upon his snowy bosom, one precious bloom, the bud, the blossom and the full blown flower, richer, purer and lovelier than the best of them, the heaven-grown flower of grace -- Christmas.

It is superfluous to apostrophise the season to those who understand its significance and appreciate its worth and beauty. The boys and girls who have grown up with Christmas observances would not know what Winter would be without them. To erase all Christmas scenes from their minds would be to rob the ring of their years of its brightest jewels, to plunder memory's casket of its fairest gems. The utilitarian spirit of the age would do it; the driving capitalist and miserly money-grubber would do it; but whoever would do it has the heart (if it were possible) to rob earth of its roses and heaven of its stars.

Some persons ignore its meaning and significance. Some disregard it. Some make Christmastide a time of sinful license, while others piously look upon it as a superstition savoring of Romanism. But Rome has no monopoly of Christ or of Christianity. It is the whole world's holiday, blessed of God by the "Unspeakable Gift", for everybody in the world.

The home celebration of the day varied in the homes of Prospect according to the antecedents and views of the households' heads; but in few, if any, were no gifts bestowed with the good wishes of the season, and a royal feast enjoyed when the Christmas dinner was set forth. In the olden time the teachers treated all the pupils of their schools with candies, nuts and apples and sometimes to the then rare delicacy -- oranges.

But the writer has a most distinct and pleasing recollection of the Christmas celebrations in the Lutheran Church. There, any time before the festival day -- say a week before -- at any reasonable hour -- those interested might be found making the preparations and arranging the decorations needful for a worthy celebration of the holy, happy time. The many who have assisted in like scenes will know what it comprehended in this; the evergreens brought in, broken, and wrapped, the festoons, wreaths and emblems, measured, counted and hung in place; the mottoes designed, elaborated and put in position; and finally the Christmas tree, set up and decorated. Up to the last moment the work goes bravely on. And then, at the appointed time in the evening the Sunday-school assembles, and the friends and neighbors and parents of the children come, all filled with the eager, joyful spirit of the occasion. As they wait for the services to begin their eyes are busy. And what do they see? Away up high on the wall behind and above the tree a golden star, glittering from a light within and shining with golden radiance in the darkness, to remind them of the Star of Bethlehem; on the walls the wreaths and emblems which proclaim the beauty of life, a "hid with Christ in God". along the gallery and circling the pillars, the festoons which shadow forth a similar import; before them, upon the end wall of the church, the Angels' Song in shining gold and silver characters.

Glory to God in the Highest
And on Earth Peace
Good Will toward Men

And beneath the legend thus inscribed, the final focus of all eyes, stands, shapely and green, the Christmas Tree. A tree which bears upon its wide-spreading branches wonderful fruits, toys and boxes and parcels and beautiful ornaments -- things in number and variety beyond telling. But wait!

The children sing -- sweet child voices, singing like the birds sing -- it does the heart of a man good to hear them singing thus from their joyful hearts. Then the lights are turned on and the school opened in regular form, all participating. An address is made setting forth the central thought around which the celebration is organized; in that Christ, the Son of God, the Ho;y Child of Mary, is born, the Saviour of mankind. And the same thought runs through all the Scripture readings and the hymns they sing.

The the lights are all turned down and the tree is lighted while the little ones softly sing:

Silent Night! Holy Night!
All is calm, all is bright,
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child!
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in havenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent Night! Silent Night!
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy Face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth;
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.

And as the tree stands in the glory of the light of multitudinous tapers twinkling among its dark branches, a scene is impressed on the heart and memory of each child, that time can never efface. After the tapers are burned low, the lights are turned on in the church, te gifts are taken down, the label read and the happy child comes forward, receives its present, and has its little heart so filled with joy that the Christmas carols in which it afterward unites in the closing exercises, are the only suitable expression it can give to its happiness. And it is with glad hearts, hearts alive to the goodness of the Heavenly Father, full of love for the Adorable Son, and blest with the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit, that children, teachers, parents and friends, unite in singing as a fitting close, the psalm-like doxology:

"Praise God from Whom all blessings flow."

And as the echoes of the hymn die away, they bow their heads in reverence to receive the benediction and go forth better than when they entered there.

And this, so far as we are able to tell it, is our realized conception of what a Christmas celebration for the children ought to be. God grant for us all many happy returns of the day.