The wedding day was again fixed. In this case there was more than
usual interest in the bride, for her friends all knew of her
destination. The late Mrs. H. P. Jackson, of Oberlin, Ohio, sister
of the bride, has told me in letters, of the events of the pleasant
occasion. The two Indian boys, dressed in their best, were guests of
honor. Dr. Whitman introduced them to his wife, and says Mrs.
Jackson, "When he told them she would go with them to their far-away
home in Oregon, and teach them, they did not try to conceal their
delight."
Narcissa Prentice was the eldest daughter of Judge Prentice, an
influential, earnest Christian man, then residing in Angelica, New
York. The daughter was well educated, loved for her womanly qualities
and famed in all the country around for the sweetness of her voice.
She was the leader of the church choir of the village, and the people
crowded the building the evening before their departure to bid the
little party a good by and give them a blessing. After a good social
time, the minister, the Rev. Dr. Hull, called the meeting to order,
and gave out the old familiar hymn:
"Yes, my native land, I love thee,
All thy scenes I love them well;
Friends, connections, happy country,
Can I bid you all farewell?" Etc.
The late Martha J. Lamb, editor of the "Magazine of American
History," who wrote the report of the farewell gathering, says:
"The great audience joined in singing the opening stanzas, but
soon they began to drop out by ones and scores, and sobs were
heard all over the audience. The last stanza was sung by one
voice alone in a clear, sweet soprano, and not a faulty note; it
was the voice of Narcissa Whitman."
It was the last time her old friends heard the sweet voice, for
daylight found them braving the winter storm on their way to Oregon.
The late Eli G. Coe, of Illinois, then a young man, drove them in his
sleigh to the mountains, en route to Pittsburg, where they were to
take boat for St. Louis. He has given me a delightful sketch of the
journey, upon which he marks Whitman "The Silent Man, ever thoughtful
of all his guests," and Mrs. Whitman, "The lovely little woman who
was the life of the company, who often dispelled gloom, and made all
forget the winter cold, by a song of cheer."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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