

I offer thanks to
my
friends,
relatives, and ancestors whose strength of purpose
led me to my own.
A
special
thanks to my co-author,
Rev. Marilyn A.
Riedel,
for her deep love and dedication to me and this project.
Without her
tireless
effort and selfless interest,
this liberating
history
of Oregon would never have been written.
![]()
History... is a wallflower. She sits neglected in the corner, drab and demure, invited to the dance. What does it take to get us to notice her? A suitor, of course. The most popular boy in the class, say, who suddenly sees her there and proclaims her beautiful.
Chapter 1: Corps of Discovery 1804
The idea of the penetration of Oregon by land had originated with the American Philosophical Association, and to promote it, Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) and Alexander Hamilton (1755-1804) had contributed $12.50 each. It was Jefferson, however, who finally followed through, who persuaded Congress to fund an Expedition across the continent to the Northwest Coast. To head the expedition he chose his secretary-aide, Meriwether Lewis (1774-1809). Lewis, in turn, chose William Clark (1770-1838), an army comrade, to share the command.

The Co-Commanders
Meriwether Lewis was born August 18,
1774,
near Charlottesville, Virginia, and was a boyhood neighbor of
Thomas
Jefferson.
In 1794, Lewis joined the militia and, at the rank of ensign,
was
attached
to a sublegion of general "Mad Anthony" Wayne commanded by Lt.
William
Clark. In sharing the experiences of the North campaign against
the
British
and Indians, Lewis and Clark fashioned the bonds of an enduring
friendship.
On March 6, 1801, Lewis, as a young
army
captain in Pittsburgh, received a letter from Jefferson, the
soon-to-be
inaugurated president, offering Lewis a position as his
secretary-aide.
It is said,
Your knowledge of the Western Country, of the army, and of all it's interests and relations has rendered it desirable for public as well as private purposes that you should be engaged in that office.
Lewis readily accepted the position.
The reference to Lewis' "knowledge of
the
Western Country" hinted that Jefferson was again planning an
Expedition
to explore the West and had tentatively decided it would be its
commander.
On February 28, 1803, Congress appropriated funds for the
expedition,
and
Lewis, who had worked closely with Jefferson on preparations for
it,
was
commissioned its leader.
As he made arrangements for the
expedition,
Lewis concluded it would be desirable to have a co-commander.
With
Jefferson’s
consent, he offered the assignment to his friend and former
commanding
officer, William Clark, who was living with his brother, George
Rogers,
at Clarksville, Indiana Territory (1800-1816). Clark accepted,
stating
in his reply,
The enterprise, etc., is such as I have long anticipated and am much pleased. My friend, I do assure you that no man lives with whom I would prefer to undertake such a trip, etc., as yourself.
Also a native of Virginia, Clark, born
August
1, 1770, was four years older than Lewis. In capability and
background,
he and Lewis shared much in common. They were relatively young,
intelligent,
adventurous, resourceful, and courageous. Born leaders,
experienced
woodsmen-frontiersmen,
and seasoned army officers, they were cool in crises and quick
to make
decisions. Clark, many times over, would prove to be the right
choice
as
joint leader of the expedition.
In temperament, Lewis and Clark were
opposites.
Lewis was introverted, melancholic, and moody; Clark,
extroverted,
even-tempered,
and gregarious. The better-educated and more refined Lewis, who
possessed
a philosophical, romantic, and speculative mind, was at home
with
abstract
ideas; Clark, of a pragmatic mold, was more of a practical man
of
action.
Each supplied vital qualities which balanced their partnership.
The purpose of the Corps
of Discovery was
threefold:
• to determine a route between the Missouri
and
Columbia rivers and thereby facilitate travel and trade;
• to report on the flora and fauna and
geography
of the region; and
• to establish friendly relations with the
Indians.
Another purpose, though not stated, was to
lay
further basis for new territorial claims should the US decide to
make
them.
The Expedition departed from Saint
Louis
in the spring of 1804. They proceeded upstream in a leisurely
fashion
through
desertions and thievery, all severely punished with the lash. On
arriving
at the Platte they had reached the end, as it were, of their
world.
Lewis
wrote:
We were now about to penetrate a country at least 2,000 miles in width, on which the foot of civilized man has never trodden; the good or evil it had in store for us was for experiment yet to determine.
More good than evil was their lot on the westward trek. Despite the cold, they wintered comfortably near present-day Bismark, North Dakota. What difficulties they suffered were minor, as for example, the behavior of the Indians they encountered after crossing the Continental Divide. Lewis wrote in his diary:
We were caressed and besmeared with their grease and paint till I was heartily tired of the national hug.
Also, they grew weary of a diet consisting
of
so
much fish, but this they remedied on reaching the Columbia by
purchasing
40 dogs.
On November 15, 1805, 19 months after
their
departure from Saint Louis, the expedition saw the Pacific at
the mouth
of the Columbia. Here they spent a miserable winter in a little
log
stockade,Fort
Clatsop, which they built on a
low hill
above
a bog of tidal creeks. It rained every day but six. They spent
these
dreary
days making salt at present-day Seaside,
hunting the scarce game and fighting the abundant fleas. On
Christmas
Day
they celebrated with
poor elk, so much spoiled that we ate it through necessity, some spoiled pounded fish and a few roots.
Explorers Infect Natives with Venereal Disease
There was also much sickness: colds, dysentery, rheumatism. Many of the men acquired venereal diseases from the Indians who, in turn, had been infected by sailors of the fur trade. Indeed, in the scant 13 years since Gray and Broughton, there had been a shocking deterioration of the native peoples, far fewer of the "fine looking fellows" and "women very pretty" than Gray's party had noted. And instead of the "deer and otter many now wore the tattered castoffs of the foreign sailors." One Indian woman wore a more permanent adornment: the name J. Bowman tattooed on her arm.
Corps Departs the Columbia 1806
With spring the expedition was only too happy to be on its way, departing the Columbia in March of 1806, arriving in Saint Louis in September, thus completing one of the most remarkable journeys of exploration in the history of the Americas and establishing another basis for eventual US claims in the West. Of more immediate importance was the fact that Lewis and Clark's reports now made known to all that here was a place suitable for non-indian settlement.
Sacajawea "Bird Woman" (1789-1812)
Across the West more memorials of
various
kinds commemorate Sacajawea (c1789-1812) than any other woman in
American
history. "Her name is to be found on everything from mountains
and
lakes
to museums and Girl Scout Camps," according to Dorothy Kamer
Gray,
author
of Women of the West. So widely has she become a legend for her
critical
role in the Lewis and Clark Expedition that the facts of her
life and
the
true significance of her involvement in the expedition has been
almost
entirely obscured. Like so many Femelle trailblazers, the actual
Sacajaweahas
remained a figure hidden in the shadows of history. Since she
could
neither
write nor speak any of the European languages, she left no
first-hand
record
of her observations or feelings. What we know of her is
contained in
the
often brief journal entries of the two captains of the
expedition and
various
other members of the party.
Sparse as the record is, however, it
establishes
Sacajawea as a major figure at a critical moment of American
history.
At
the vital moment of crisis in the Lewis and Clark Expedition it
was
upon
her that the success of the journey rested and with it the
future of
the
young US and the dreams of Jefferson, its visionary president,
who
hoped
to increase knowledge through exploration and scientific
observation
and
establish "peace" among the indigenous tribes within the new
territory.
Sacajawea not only made a significant
contribution
to the development of the nation, she did so as a member of a
socially
despised group—an Indian woman. In this latter aspect she is a
figure
of
transition, marking out the sorrows, benefits, and cruel
"choices" that
women of various races would experience in the long social
upheaval
known
as the opening of the West.
She was born a Shoshone
in about 1786, a member of a subtribe later to be called the
Lemhi, who
were then living in what is today the State of Idaho. Through
acquisition
of horses from the Spanish far to the south, the Shoshone group
to
which
she belonged had transformed itself within one generation from a
desert
tribe living a meager and circumscribed existence in the Great
Basin
west
of the Rocky Mountains to a tribe capable of crossing the
splendid
heights
of the Rocky Mountains to hunt buffalo on the Great Plains to
the east.
The tribe's transformation is critical to the role Sacajawea
played in
the success of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.
Another basic change occurred in the
life
of the tribe shortly after Sacajawea's birth. To the east and
north of
the Lemhi-Shoshone hunting grounds their implacable foe, the Blackfeet,
had obtained guns from the English and French-Canadian and were
now
able
to inflict terrible losses upon the Shoshone. But the Shoshone
advantage
in being mounted was steadily overcome by the Blackfeet's
superior
weaponry.
The Blackfeet drove them from the Great Plains and back into the
game-sparse
Rockies, securing abundant buffalo hunting grounds and obtaining
Shoshone
horses as well.
When Sacajawea was ten or 11 years old
her
tribe could venture down on the Great Plains after buffalo only
to risk
a Blackfeet attack.
On one occasion a war party of Hidasta,
allies of the Blackfeet, surprised the Shoshone at a camp near
Three
Forks
on the Missouri. At the sound of gunfire the men leapt to their
horses
and fled, leaving women, children, and elderly to run towards
the
woods.
A number of Shoshone men and boys were killed, and the attackers
rounded
up some of the women and children as captives. Sacajawea was
taken as
she
attempted to cross the river at a shallow place.
Now began five long years of exile.
Indian
captives were generally regarded as slaves; however it is
unlikely that
Sacajawea or the other children were mistreated since Indians
were
usually
gentle with children., The difficult part was separation from
homeland
and family. Rather than endure such separation, a number of
children
risked
escape and a long dangerous journey home through hundreds of
miles of
strange
land. It is not factually known why Sacajawea did not join them,
but
tradition
says she chose to stay with a young friend, Otter
Woman, who could not be roused
from sleep
the night of the escape.
Sacajawea and the other captives of the
Hidatsa were taken to Mandan villages on the Upper Missouri near
today’s
Bismark, North Dakota. It was a tremendous change; from this
place on
the
vast flat plains the Shoshoni could not even see the soaring
mountains
that had been their home.
But there were other changes of even
greater
significance. Sacajawea was now intermingling with one of the
most
developed
and admirable people among the Western Indians. The Mandan were
a
permanently
settled tribe, living in earthen lodges and engaged in farming.
They
were
an unusually handsome people, tall and of fine form, and noted
for
their
intelligence and level dispositions. Among the Plains Indians
they were
the only people who made pottery.
Here at the cluster of five villages on
the Upper Missouri were encamped over 4,000 Mandan and the
related
Arikara
and Midasta, the largest single concentration of indigenous
peoples
west
of the Mississippi. The villages formed an important trade
center to
which
came Indians from a wide area of the West to trade. Through here
passed
beaver and otter pelts, deerskins, hides of elk and even white
buffalo,
beads of bone, ornaments of shells and feathers, and,
increasingly,
white
people's goods. By this time the French and English traders from
Canada
had worked their way up the Missouri seeking precious furs.
It was at the Mandan villages that
Sacajawea
and Otter Woman grew to what was then considered womanhood by
both
Indians
and non-indian. At the age of 15, Sacajawea and her slightly
older
companion
were either bartered or gambled away by their Hidatsa master to
a
Frenchman
named Touissant Charbonneau who took the two women as slaves.
Charbonneau was what is known as a
voyageur.
He, like other voyageurs, knew the waters and the woods as no
other men
interested in the Northwest did. He worked hard; was responsible
for
the
success or failure of an axpedition; knew the many varieties of
aboriginal
languages; and spent long winters in distant, ramshackle
outposts. One
of these men, long past age 75, gave the following account of
his life:
I have been 42 years in this country. For 24 I was light canoe-man; I required but little sleep, but some times got less than I required. No portage was too long for me... Fifty songs a day were nothing to me. I could carry, paddle, walk, and sing with any man I ever saw... No water, no weather, ever stopped the paddle or the song. I had 12 wives in the country; and was once possessed of 50 horses, and six running dogs... I want for nothing; and I spent all my earnings in the enjoyment of pleasure... Yet, were I young again, I should glory in commencing the same career again...
In the autumn of 1804, a new element
was
introduced into the life at the Mandan villages. A large party
of
Americans
arrived. Known as the Corps of Discovery, it was headed by
captains
Meriwether
Lewis and William Clark, under the direction of Thomas
Jefferson to explore through to
the
Pacific
Ocean. The Expedition leaders decided to winter over at the
villages
and
set about building Fort Mandan.
At the fort, the captains sentenced
Pvt.
John Collins to 100 lashes for getting drunk on guard duty.
Collins was
described by one of his ancestors, historical novelist Rita
Cleary of
Oyster
Bay, New York as "something of a ne'er do well."
On November 4, Charbonneau came in from
a hunt on the Great Plains and applied to the expedition for a
job as
an
interpreter. A week later Sacajawea, who was pregnant, appeared
at the
fort with Otter Woman, who was also pregnant with her second
child.
Clark was proficient at geography and
was
able to assemble what would prove to be a highly accurate idea
of the
territory
up to the base of the Rockies.
During the winter, Charbonneau moved
into
the fort with his two Shoshone slave-wives and possibly a third
unnamed
Mandan slave-wife.
By Christmas the fierce plains winter
had
driven temperatures to 20 below zero on the thermometer of the
Corps of
Discovery but the Americans celebrated anyway.
Then in January, Clark learned
something
that made the Shoshone, Sacajawea, a potentially significant
asset to
the
expedition. A war chief from the Gros Ventres tribe revealed to
Clark
his
plan to attack the Shoshone in the spring. The last thing that
Clark
wanted
was war upon the Great Plains the Corps would be crossing, and
he
dissuaded
the young chief. But from the conversation Clark learned that
the
Shoshone
had horses. Lewis and Clark had some idea that an overland
journey
might
be necessary in the Rockies between the headwaters of the
Missouri and
the beginning of a navigable river flowing to the Pacific.
Although
they
thought such a portage would only be a day or two in duration,
the
availability
of horses must certainly have seemed a potential advantage.
Sacajawea’s people provided horses and
a
guide, "Old Toby," for the grueling trip over the Continental
Divide.
The two captains had other matters to
consider
that winter. From the English and French fur traders who came to
the
fort,
they learned that two English fur companies in Canada, the North
West
and
Hudson's Bay companies, had merged and would soon be able to
move into
the unclaimed lands of the far Northwest along the Columbia and
even
further
south. If that occurred before the Americans lay claim through
exploration,
then President Jefferson's dream of one nation spanning a
continent
would
be foreclosed forever. Clearly Lewis and Clark were in a race
with the
British and—history.
Sacajawea gave birth to her son, Jean
Baptise Charboneau (1804-1866),
February
11,
1804. She called him Pompey or Pomp, a name in Shoshone meaning
"first
born" or "leader of people." Because of her timely delivery, she
was
allowed
to go on the expedition as planned. Otter Woman, who had not
delivered
by the time of departure, was left behind, much to the grief of
both
women
who "wept upon being parted."
The Corps of Discovery, led by captains
Lewis and Clark, departed for the Great Northwest on April 7,
1805.
As the journey up the Missouri
progressed,
there was much hard working to get the boats upstream against
strong
current,
but the country was full of the wonders of a new land unseen
before by
white races and unsullied by their ways.
Clark's Slave York: The Corp's Shining Star
In 1788, Captain
Robert Gray (1775-1806), the
first
American
landing in Oregon, arrived at Tillamook. Markus Lopius,
reputedly the
first
person of African decent to set foot on Oregon soil, was aboard
Gray's
sloop Lady Washington.
If Lopius was indeed the first African
to
step foot on the Oregon Coast, perhaps York, William Clark's
slave, was
the second some 16 years later.
York was the first black person known
to
have crossed the continent from the Mississippi River to the
Pacific
coast,
and the first to cross the US western frontier north of Mexico.
Most notably, at a time when slaves and
women were not allowed to vote, both York and Sacajawea were
treated as
equals in the entourage. They participated in the polls by Lewis
and
Clark
to weigh group opinions along the journey—most notably in a
decision to
built Fort Clatsop on what became the Oregon side of Columbia
River.
In part, York is a lesser known member
of
the expedition because he did not write and keep a journal. Nor
did
Sacajawea,
but she had an advocacy group speak for her; she was singled out
by the
Woman's Suffrage Movement about 100 years ago and catapulted to
fame.
Despite his contributions, York's name
does
not appear in most history books, movies and other depictions of
the
explorers'
journey to the Northwest between 1803 and 1806.
The bronze edifice of York with
William
Clark at the University of Portland is thought to be the first
time he
was included in a statue.
"This is unfortunate," James J.
Holmberg,
editor and annotator of a cache of Clark's personal letters,
told the
Oregonian.
"He was more important to the success of the expedition than
most of
the
guys in the group."
Unlike Lopius and Sacajawea, York, has
slipped
out of the pages of Oregon history. Yet he was a hard man to
ignore.
Over
six feet in height and weighing more than 200 pounds, he was
often the
main attraction for Indians who visited the explorers. Many had
not
seen
an African before, or at least not one so large. To the delight
of
visitors,
York would jump and bound about, showing a remarkable athletic
agility.
All this he did in good humor—a form of friendly communication
to those
who might find his spoken language difficult to understand.
Oregon historians Robert H. Ruby and
John
A. Brown wrote that most of the expedition party
were fair-skinned, except for the member with the "buffalo hair on his head," Clark's black servant, York, who helped keep natives along the way more curious than contentious.
He played his role as the expedition's
star
attraction to the hilt. When one tribe presented a dance
entertainment
for the Lewis and Clark party, the headmen wondered how to
reciprocate
the favor. They asked York to dance, and he did, Clark noting in
his
diary
that York "amused the crowd very much, and somewhat astonished
them,
that
so large a man should be active."
Pierre Cruzatte, a French-Canadian
boatman,
was the expeditions fiddler. Impromptu hoe downs helped keep up
morale
during the explorers' long winter encampments. According to
Daniel
Slosberg,
whose stated goal is to create a historical reenactment of
Cruzatte,
"They
had a couple of fiddles, a tambourine, a jaw harp...as well as a
horn
they
used to sound between boats when they were heading up the
Missouri."
Cruzatte's
fiddling delighted the Mandan and Hidatsa, settled tribes that
lived in
earth lodges on the upper Missouri and controlled a far-flung
trade in
furs.
Another time, among the Mandan in North
Dakota, York patiently submitted to an examination of his skin.
Tribesmen
wet their fingers and rubbed his black skin to see if the color
would
come
off. For those who had seen only white and red-skinned people,
this was
important scientific experiment. The moment was preserved in a
painting
by the noted western artist Charles Marion Russell (1865-1926).
While world traveler and humanitarian
Shirley
MacLaine was on safari, she spent two weeks with the Masai tribe
of
East
Africa. She reported an experience similar to York's:
I stopped to gaze unabashedly into the
mouth
of one of the women. She giggled and pointed to my hand. I
didn’t
understand.
She lifted one of my fingers and caressed one of the pink,
polished
nails.
Her child saw her touch me and screamed in consternation.
Clearly, few
of the children had seen a white person so close before. With
noses
running,
bellies protruding, and eyes wide in disbelief, they crowded
around me
to stare. Intrigued by freckles, one of them touched my arm,
shrieking
with delight at his courage. He looked down at his own finger—no
damage.
He tried again, this time touching the white skin between the
freckles.
He pulled away with a jerk—but still no damage. Then there was
an
invasion
of small jabs and touches, all over me, accompanied by
contagious
giggles.
My long, painted fingernails, my
passport
to conversation, continued to be the object of attention. How
was it
possible
to grow such long ones, and of such an unusual color? Ten
children, one
on each finger, studied the phenomenon. Freeing my hands gently,
I
peeled
the polish from one nail. There was a communal intake of breath.
Didn't
such tearing hurt? Where was the blood underneath? Disbelief
turned to
compassion as one of the bravest boy children gently caressed my
natural
fingernail and began to spit and blow on it to ease the pain. I
tried
to
gesture that it didn’t matter, that it was all right, and I
started to
peel another nail. Again the blowing and spitting.
Kijimbele tried to reassure them, but
they
had found a new game. The Masai children closed around my hands,
tearing
the polish to shreds with cruel, delighted, childlike fervor,
salving
the
pain of it with spits and blows as they worked.
When the party reached Idaho and the
Nez
Perceé tribe, York danced and allowed them to rub his
skin.
Clark's
diary recorded a story York concocted for the tribe: "By way of
amusement
he told them that he had once been a wild animal, and caught,
and tamed
by his master; and to convince them showed them feats of
strength
which,
added to his looks, made him more terrible than we wished him to
be."
The
Nez Percé were pleased with York and permitted him, along
with
the
non-colored males of the expedition, to take an Indian wife
during
their
two-week stay.
Despite his comic and athletic feats,
York
was considered powerful medicine by those he met. He was taken
seriously,
and accorded the respect due a man of his skills. A Flathead
tribesman recalled that his people thought York had merely
painted
himself
in charcoal: "Those who had been brave and fearless, the
victorious
ones
in battle, painted themselves in charcoal. So the black man,
they
thought,
had been the bravest of his party."
As the mission across the continent
progressed,
York learned more frontier skills. Hunting, fishing, and
swimming were
required, and he excelled in each. Along with Sacajawea and
Charbonneau,
he served as an interpreter. Messages from Indian tribes went
from
Sacajawea
to Charbonneau to York and then to Lewis and Clark—York had
probably
picked
up some French during his stay in Saint Louis before the
expedition
began.
However, one member of the party felt that York "spoke bad
French and
worse
English."
With the other members of the party,
York
survived the rigors of the difficult journey from Saint Louis to
the
Columbia
and back. Indeed, he had contributed to its success in many
ways—from
utilizing
his frontier skills as a resourceful hunter, fisherman, trader
and
scout,
to serving as an entertainer and informal ambassador of good
will to
all
he met.
Much of York's life is still a mystery,
especially his experiences after returning from the expedition
in 1806.
Historians still debate whether York
was
granted his freedom immediately upon returning or continued to
work as
one of Clark's slaves. There also are lingering questions about
York's
marriage and family life, and the legend that he returned to the
West
and
became a chief in the Crow (Apsaalooke/Absaroke) nation.
More than 50 recently discovered
letters
written by Clark between 1792 and 1811 indicate that York
apparently
was
married before the expedition and he definitely wasn't freed
immediately
afterward.
More intriguing are Clark's heated
condemnations
and retaliations for York's escalating efforts to gain his
freedom.
York had been Clark's personal body
servant
and companion since both men were children, and they both lived
in
Saint
Louis before the trip. But after contributing greatly to the big
expedition,
York thought he had earned his freedom with his services to the
famous
Corps of Discovery.
Sparks flew between the two men after
Clark
decided in 1808 to move permanently to Saint Louis from
Louisville,
where
York's wife (whose name remains unknown) and other relatives
lived.
Holmberg told the Oregonian:
As York starts agitating...to stay in Louisville with his family...William gets madder and madder. His letters to his (older and closest brother, Jonathan) are really steaming.
Finally, later in 1808, Clark sent
York
back
to Louisville to work for Jonathan, with confidential
instructions to
send
him to New Orleans to be sold or hired out to a severe master if
he
refused
to perform his duties as a slave or attempted to escape.
Details of York’s death are vague;
Holmberg
thinks it was 1822 when there was a cholera outbreak in the
area. But
witnesses
reported encountering York as late as 1832 and 1834.
Great Falls
At last they reached the long sought
Great
Falls of the Missouri. It was an important achievement,
confirming to
the
leaders that thus far they had correctly charted their course.
But joy
soon faded in the face of hardship. For a full month they
labored to
get
their canoes and equipment up the falls.
Sadly, they suffered more than was
necessary.
The slow ordeal round the falls was rooted in the persistent
dream of
the
Northwest Passage sought by explorers since the time of Spanish
explorer
Christopher Columbus (1451-1506). They were sure that somewhere,
only a
day's portage beyond the river, there would be navigable waters
to
carry
them to the Western Sea.
On July 4, the Great Falls were
surmounted
and a celebration was held. But the hard work was by no means
over.
Even
though the river course leveled out somewhat beyond the falls,
the
ascent
against the current was still difficult. Almost another month
passed as
they worked their way up into the Rocky Mountains to the place
called
Three
Forks. Here, at a crossroads for Indian travel from all over the
West,
the Missouri divided and the Corps of Discovery elected to take
the
branch
that they named for Jefferson.
On July 28, Sacajawea recognized
familiar
territory, the place where the Hidatsa had attacked her tribe
and
seized
her as a prisoner of war years ago.
Sherr and Kazickas wrote that as they
neared
the land of the Shoshone
Sacajawea showed Lewis and Clark the shoal place midriver where as a child she had been captured by the Hidatsa. "She does not show any distress at these recollections or any joy at the prospect of being restored to her country," wrote Lewis in his diary, underestimating with a white man's insensitivity his faithful guide's capacity for sentiment.
If they were to proceed over the Rocky
Mountains
they must have horses soon. They had reached the point at which
the
expedition
must decide to continue or turn back.
At this most critical moment Sacajawea
again
sighted familiar terrain and announced that they were near the
home of
her people. With this encouragement Lewis determined to push
ahead and
find the Shoshone, and as he did so, the entire hope of the
expedition
rested upon making contact with the Sacajawea's tribe.
Finally, on August 11, Lewis saw in the
distance a mounted brave. He tried to signal the man to come
closer but
he fled in fear. Lewis and his men followed. In doing so they
passed a
narrow valley between high peaks and thus, on August 12, 1805,
they
passed
the Continental Divide, the first Americans to do so.
The next day they came upon more
tribesmen
but those fled too. At last they found an elderly Shoshone woman
and a
young girl who, despairing of flight, sat down with heads bowed
as
though
awaiting a death blow from the strangers. Lewis put down his gun
and
approached
them. He raised them up and then gave them their presents and
painted
their
faces with vermilion as a symbol of peace.
Before long he and his men were in the
midst
of the tribe, being embraced and smeared with bear grease and
paint.
Lewis
persuaded them to accompany him to the rendezvous with Clark,
but when
they arrived at the designated spot Clark was not there and the
Shoshones'
suspicions returned.
While Lewis held the Indians at the
rendezvous,
Clark slowly struggled to the meeting place. Suddenly, he saw
Sacajawea
ahead of the party begin to dance and "show every mark of
extravagant
joy."
She had sighted several people on horseback and recognized them
as
being
her tribe.
Sacajawea discovered that the headman
was
none other than her own brother! Chief
Cameahwait, was the sole
surviving member
of her family except for one other brother, then absent from the
tribe,
and an orphaned nephew who, states the record, "was immediately
adopted
by her."
Although he hesitated to do so at
first,
Cameahwait provided the horses and guides necessary for the
Corps to
continue
on across the Rocky Mountains.
Lynn Sherr and Jurate Kazickas wrote of
the event, which took place near Armstead, Montana:
In August 1805, Sacajawea was picking Serviceberries in the high, dew-covered grass when suddenly she saw some Indians riding toward her. According to William Clark, his brave scout "danced for the joyful sight, and she made signs to me that they were her nation." Sacajawea ran to embrace her brother, Chief Cameahwait, whom she had not seen since she had been captured by the Hidatsa tribe as a child. Through Sacajawea's intercession, Lewis and Clark were able to obtain more horses for their historic Westward journey.
Following a long and difficult
overland
trip
the expedition finally reached the Clearwater in Idaho, the
expedition
members built more canoes. After some 600 miles of water travel
down
the
Snake and Columbia rivers, they sighted the Pacific Ocean in
November
1805
near present-day McGowan, Washington.
The Corp of Discovery's successful
crossing
established firm grounds for America's claim to the far
Northwest as
opposed
to that of the British. In the face of British arguments, the
expedition
was the strong lynch pin that secured the outline of the
American
nation
and opened the territory to the vast migration in the century
ahead.
The
Expedition literally began the recorded history of the West.
Chapter 2: Fort Astoria
Astoria, celebrating its 175th
anniversary
in 1986, has a long and eventful history. The Clatsop and ChinookIndians
at the Columbia's mouth linked an extensive network up and down
the
Pacific
Coast of North America and hundreds of miles up the Columbia.
Yet
explorers
and fur traders failed to discover the mighty river until Capt.
Robert
Gray of the US crossed its treacherous bar in 1792. Many ships
and
several
nations followed hard on his heels.
In 1805 the remarkable Lewis and Clark
Expedition
set out by Jefferson erected Fort Clatsop, a small winter
outpost, near
Astoria's future site.
Fort Clatsop Established 1805
Fort Clatsop was the first military
establishment
to be built in Oregon, and it served as the Lewis and Clark
winter
quarters
for 1805-1806. The men were allowed to vote on the location.
Lewis made
a reconnaissance and on December 5, 1805, rejoined Clark,
reporting
that
he had found a food situation. Construction of a stockade about
50 feet
square was started at once. This was built around seven cabins.
On
January
1, 1806, Lewis recorded in his orderly book that the fort was
completed,
and the first orders for its operation and security were
officially
issued
on that date. The party left the fort on the return trip at 1pm,
Sunday,
March 23, 1806. On March 20, Lewis wrote: "We have lived quit as
comfortable
as we had any reason to expect we should."
The Charbonneau quarters were on the
south
side of the captain's quarters. Touissant Charbonneau, his
slave-wife,
Sacajawea, and their son Jean Baptiste lived in this room during
the
winter
encampment.
A guard shack was located outside the
door
to the mean room and to the captain's quarters. The guard had to
check
the meat room for spoilage at least once every 24 hours. He was
also
responsible
for daily checking of the canoe landing and for clearing the
fort of
guests
each evening.
Sgt. Patrick Gass, a member of the
expedition,
noted in his journals that
near our camp the country is closely timbered with spruce pine, the soil is rich, but not deep, and there are numerous springs of running water.
This spring, located about 50 yards behind
the
fort, was probably the main source of fresh water.
According to the journals kept by Lewis
and Clark, the canoe landing was originally part of a large
marsh area
and about 200 yards from the fort on Netul River, now called
Lewis and
Clark River.
The members of the Lewis and Clark
Expedition
remained at Fort Clatsop from December 7, 1805, until March 23,
1806.
Perhaps
the most important activity undertaken during their winter here
was the
reworking of the journals by the leaders, and the preparation of
organized
accounts of the scientific data gathered during the journey.
Here also,
Clark prepared many of the maps which were among the most
significant
contributions
of the expedition. Some of the maps were based only on
information
supplied
by Indians. Through use of the maps, Lewis and Clark determined
that
the
way they had come was not the easiest and decided to change part
of
their
return route.
Indians, whom Clark described as "close
bargainers," came to Fort Clatsop came to Fort Clatsop almost
daily to
visit and trade, which quickly depleted the expeditions' gift
supplies.
They traded for items such as otter skins, seal meat, fish,
roots, elk
meat, and canoes. Lewis and Clark wrote often in their journals
about
the
tribes, their appearance, habits, living conditions, lodges, and
abilities
as fishermen and hunters. Much of the available information on
past
tribes
comes from their observations.
All the men on the expedition hunted
and
trapped, but George Drouillard, an adept hunter, earned high
praise
from
his commanders for his skills. The 33-member party killed and
ate 131
elk
and 20 deer. A few small animals were killed, such as otter and
beaver
and one raccoon. As spring approached, the elk took to the hills
and it
became increasingly difficult for the hunters to keep the camp
supplied
with meat and hides for food and clothing.
Salt Cairn at Seaside
To augment their low supply of salt upon arriving at the Pacific Coast, Lewis and Clark held a high priority to the task of producing salt. During the winter of 1805-1806 a salt-making camp was set up "near the houses of some Clatsop and Kilamox families" about 15 miles southwest of present-day Seaside. Clark wrote that he:
"directed... Joseph Fields, Bratton Gibson to proceed to the ocean at some convenient place form a camp and commence making salt with five of the largest kittles, and Willard and Wiser to assist them in carrying the kittles to the sea coast." Messengers reported that "the men had at length established themselves on the coast about 15 miles southwest from this, near the lodge of some Killamuck families; that the Indians were very friendly and had given them a considerable quantity of the blubber of a whale which perished on the Coast some distance southeast of them; part of this blubber they brought with them, it was white and not unlike the fat of pork, though the texture was more spongy and somewhat courser..." Lewis and Clark had some of the blubber cooked and liked it. Lewis continued: "They commenced making salt and found that they could obtain from three quarts to a gallon a day; they brought with them a specimen of the salt of about a gallon; this was a great treat to myself and most of the party, having not had any since the 20th ult. month; I say most of the party, for my friend Capt. Clark, declares it to be a mere matter of indifference with him whether he uses it or not; for myself I must confess I felt a considerable inconvenience from the want of it; the want of bread I consider trivial provided, I get fat meat, for as to the spices of meat I am not very particular, the flesh of the dog the horse and the wolf, having from habit become equally familiar [as] with any other, and I have learned to think that if the chord be sufficiently strong, which binds the soul and body together, it does not so much matter about the materials which compose it."
The camp operated until February 21,
1806.
Usually at least three men were assigned here thought the number
varied
and personnel were rotated. Salt was obtained by laboriously
boiling
sea
water in five large kettles. Very shortly the men were producing
"excellent,
fine, strong and white" salt. They were able to make about three
quarts
a day and accumulated enough for the trip home. About three of
the
approximately
four bushels produced at the camp were packed in kegs and
carried
eastward
from Fort Clatsop with the expedition on March 23.
The original low-impact campers, Lewis
and
Clark left little behind which can be unequivocally traced to
them.
However,
at Fort Clatsop, there is evidence of the remains of what may
have been
a privy.
Vermin and Virus
Life at the outpost was far from pleasant. It rained every day but 12 of the 106 days at Fort Clatsop. Clothing rotted and sand fleas infested the furs and hides of the bedding. So bad was this pest that Lewis and Clark wrote often of a lack of a full night's sleep. The dampness gave nearly everyone rheumatism or colds, and many suffered from other diseases, which Lewis treated vigorously. Some suffered from dislocated shoulders, injured legs, and back pains.
Whale on Tillamook Head
In addition to the salt-making
endeavor,
Clark, Sacajawea, and other members of the expedition hiked over
Tillamook
head to present-day Cannon Beach. There they acquired whale oil
and
blubber
from a group of Salish-speaking Tillamook.
Ruby and Brown wrote that a few events
transpiring
near Fort Clatsop diverted the party's attention from the soggy,
flea
ridden
winter:
On January 6, Clark set out with a group in two canoes to see a whale washed up on a Tillamook beach. Sacajawea insisted on going along, for she had never seen the ocean. By the time they arrived at the beach, Tillamooks had cut most of the flesh from the 105-foot mammal, rendering slabs of its meat into oil in wooden vessels heated with hot stones and storing the sticky substance in the whale's bladder and intestines. Cooked, the whale meat was palatable and tender, resembling in taste that of a dog or beaver. Tillamooks were very possessive of their oil and blubber, trading But small quantities of it; nevertheless, Chinooks and Clatsops went down to trade beads for it.
On March 23, 1806, after the
disappointment
of no contact with coastal vessels for possible return by sea,
the
Corps
of Discovery began the long trek home.
By the time the men returned to Saint
Louis
in September of that year, they had traveled over 8,000 miles,
established
cordial relations with dozens of Indian tribes, accurately
mapped the
regions
they traveled, kept daily journals, and cataloged new species of
plants
and animals.
After the expedition, Lewis was
appointed
governor of Louisiana-Missouri Territory (1805-1821); Clark was
promoted
to brigadier general and appointed to the superintendency of
Indian
affairs.
Lewis, at age 35, died tragically October 11, 1809, just three
years
after
the expedition. Clark lived a long and productive life in Saint
Louis,
dying September 1, 1838, at age 68.
Lewis and Clark's well-published
venture
helped fire the imagination of John
Jacob
Astor, perhaps the young nation's
wealthiest
man.
John Jacob Astor
Astoria represented the key to Astor's
ambitious
Pacific Fur Company. Traders from the North American interior
would
carry
bundles of furs to the Columbia's mouth. Others would conduct a
maritime
trade with Indians up and down the coast and with the Russians
and
Alaska.
Ships laden with furs would said from Astoria for the lucrative
Chinese
markets in Canton.
Astor selected most of his partners,
clerks,
and voyagers from Great Britain's North West Fur Company, based
in
Montreal.
In September 1810, the ship Tonquin sailed from New York with
men and
supplies
for the new post. On March 12, 1811 an overland party left Saint
Louis.
They were to locate sites for future trading posts as they
worked their
way across the continent to the Columbia.
Neither party fared well. The Tonquin's
dictatorial captain, Jonathan Thorn, quickly earned the enmity
of the
fun-loving
French-Canadian and Scottish fur traders. He needlessly
squandered
eight
men's lives while crossing the Columbia's bar in March 1811.
Wilson
Price
Hunt's overland party moved tentatively across the continent and
was
fragmented
after being turned back to impenetrable rapids on the Snake.
They
limped
into Astoria in early 1812, many months overdue.
They talked to me of whites who had built a large house at the mouth of the river, had surrounded it with palisades, etc. They had not been there; but they informed me that the whites were in great trouble, expected a large number of their friends, constantly looked toward Big River and, when we arrived, would dry their tears and would sing and dance.
Astoria's First Days
Astoria got off to a rough start. Men began clearing brush and cutting huge trees at the post's site on April 12, 1811. On May 18 they named the post "Astoria" and were building a warehouse. But hard labor, the rain, poor food and medical care, and Duncan McDougall's leadership wore on the men. Then, in late summer, they learned that Vancouver Island natives had killed the Tonquin's crew. The loss cost the Astorians most of their supplies and firepower, as well as the means of pursuing the rich coastal fur trade. They quickly built palisades and installed cannon to intimidate the local Indians. A few men tried to desert.
I have seen the whole party so reduced that scarcely one could help the other, and all this chiefly owning to the conduct of Mr. Astor; first, in not sending out a medical man with the party; and, secondly, in his choice of the great pasha, McDougall, whom he placed at the head of his affairs.
In 1812 the Astorians' luck turned. They overland party finally arrived, and the fur trade on the Upper Columbia looked promising. On May 10 the ship Beaver arrived with provisions, trade goods, and nearly 30 more men for the enterprise. The now optimistic partners soon dispatched large parties to trade on the Willamette, Snake, and Upper Columbia rivers. The Beaver sailed north to obtain furs from Russians in Alaska. Astor's plans were proceeding well.
The buildings consisted of apartments for the proprietors and clerks, with a capacious dining hall for both, extensive warehouses for the trading goods and furs, a provision store, a trading shop, smith's forge, carpenter's workshop, etc. The whole surrounded by stockades forming a square, and reaching about 15 feet over the ground.
The War of 1812
The possibility of war with Great Britain or competition with the aggressive North West Fur Company had threatened the Pacific Fur Company from its beginnings, and in 1813 both threats materialized. News of the War of 1812 reached the post in January 1813. Despite appeals to the US government, Astor failed to get an armed ship to protect his investment on the Pacific. He succeeded in squeezing a supply ship through the tight British stockade, but the vessel wrecked in Hawaii before reaching the now-beleaguered Astorians. In July, 1813 the four partners present in Astoria agreed to abandon the post in 11 months if Astor failed to provide support.
...even yet it is not too late to do good if our government would act with promptness... Good God what an object is to be secured... I have not time to point out all the advantages that would result from the securing the river for us.
In fine, circumstances are against us on every hand, and nothing operates to lead us into a conclusion that we can succeed.
Astoria Abandoned
The North West Fur Company forced the Astorians' hand before the year ended. In September 75 of them arrived and boisterously announced that a British warship soon would arrived to seize Fort Astoria. A month later, on October 6, Pacific Fur Company partners agreed to sell out to the Nor'Westers to salvage what they could before the warship arrived. Some of the Astorians joined the British fur company. Others would return to the East in the spring. Over 60 of them had lost their lives, and no fortunes had been made.
...the agents of the North West Company had exaggerated the importance of the factory in the eyes of the British ministry; for if the latter had known what it really was—a mere trading post—and that nothing but the rivalry of the fur traders of the North West Company was interested in its destruction, they would have taken umbrage at it, or at least would never have sent a maritime Expedition to destroy it.
Astoria Under the British Flag
The British fur traders quickly displaced the Astorians. On December 18, 1813, Capt. Black of HMS Raccoon formally took possession of the small post and renamed it Fort George. In April 1814 the long-awaited ship Isaac Todd arrived with supplies, more Nor'Westers, and the first European woman in Oregon, an English barmaid named Jane Barnes.
Jane Barnes Aboard Isaac Todd 1813
In Portsmouth, England, he ordered ale
and
found both it and the barmaid heady stuff. He took her aboard
the Isaac
Todd and sailed for the outpost on the Columbia where he spent
half his
time keeping "his" Jane out of the amorous clutches of other
men. But
finally
he had to "share" her, lose her and then his life in the stormy
Columbia.
When the North West Fur Company
appointed
Donald McTavish (1772-1814) to the post of chief factor at Fort
George
all he knew about the place was it was situated at the mouth of
the
Columbia
in Oregon Country and that it lacked all the comforts of home.
The fort
was started as Astoria by J. J. Astor but the British had taken
over at
the outbreak of the War of 1812 and renamed it.
On a late evening in February 1813,
McTavish
was stopping at an inn in Portsmouth where the Isaac Todd, the
vessel
that
would carry him to the far outpost, was anchored. He expected to
sail
in
a few days and had tried to think of everything he could take
along to
keep him comfortable and happy in the raw New World. He had
quantities
of fancy cheeses, liquors and other delicacies in the hold but
what
about
women? He was going to miss his women friends, he mused, as he
went
into
the barroom of the inn. What he saw relieved his mind and
sparked an
idea—blonde,
buxom Jane Barns, one of the barmaids. Damn all ridicule—she was
a
lovely
bit. As she served him he caught her wrist. Would she go with
him to
Fort
George?
Barnes and McTavish Sail for Fort George
That she would, gracious sir, and Barnes flew into a tizzy of excitement, spending hours in the town’s best stores buying dresses and other finery, all to the account of Donald McTavish. And when the Isaac Todd sailed into the Atlantic, Jane Barnes sailed into McTavish's cabin as Fancy Lady.

The crew, from the captain to cabin
boy,
harbored ideas about luring the pretty barmaid into their
raw-knuckled
hands. McTavish, however, kept her in his own iron fist and
stayed
close
to the cabin during the long months at sea, and when the Isaac
Todd
crossed
the Columbia bar on April 17, 1813 and anchored off the
primitive Fort
George, the barmaid was still "his" Jane exclusively.
But McTavish had qualms when he went
ashore
in the long boat about leaving Barnes on board. And then, after
a few
days
getting familiar with things, he invited young Alexander Henry,
head
clerk,
and other officials on board the ship to dinner and to meet
Barnes. The
meeting was electric. Any non-colored woman would have made and
impression
on men so long removed from any females other than the
vermin-infested
Chinook squaws, but these men were fairly bedazzled by the
blonde
beauty
of the English woman. After a few drinks had loosened restraints
the
conversation
began to get out of hand, according to an item in Henry's
journal: "A
vile
discourse took place in the hearing of Barnes, on the subject of
venereal
disease among the Chinook squaws." Henry stopped the talk, no
doubt
aware
the barmaid had heard worse.
Robert H. Ruby and John A. Brown wrote
that
the biggest surprise package aboard the Isaac Todd was Jane
Barnes,
a Portsmouth barmaid, a "flaxen-haired, blue-eyed daughter of Albion" who "in a temporary fit of erratic enthusiasm" had consented to become "le compagnon du voyage" of one Donald McTavish, a former Nor’Wester proprietor now out of retirement to organize the new Columbia District. Not only was Jane an object of interest to traders, but she also was "the greatest curiosity that ever gratified the wondering eyes of the blubber-loving aboriginals of the northwest coast of America." They named their daughters for her and thronged the fort to examine her various adornment and attire, which she sported in daily evening walks on the beach. Native male royalty sought to prevent a rumored move by McTavish to send her east by proposing marriage to her.
When she made her first visit ashore she flaunted her new finery before all the men at the fort and ignored the venomous looks of the Chinook squaws, always eager to entangle a white man. Then McTavish began to worry about his charge. He was increasingly busy with fort affairs, feeling Jane was unsafe ashore or on board without him. His original plan had been to arrange matters at the fort quickly and return overland to Montreal with his love interest. It was now pointed out this was too dangerous and difficult.
McTavish Marries a Chinook Squaw
McTavish came to a decision. Barnes had been "his" for several months and now he would "share" her with Alexander Henry so the clerk could keep an eye on her when he couldn’t. The arrangement was most agreeable to Henry and apparently to Barnes but not, it soon appeared, to the chief factor. Henry began to "watch out for her" full time, McTavish usually sleeping alone. In spite of this both men continued to get along well in their business relations, and McTavish took to one of the Chinook squaws left behind by a departing American who had worked for Astor. The squaw was "deloused," somewhat "cleansed" of fish oil and was fairly easy to live with once the chief factor realized he had lost Barnes.
McTavish Drowns Crossing the Columbia May 22, 1814
On May 22, 1814, McTavish, Henry and
five
crewmen boarded a longboat for what should have been a routine
crossing
of the Columbia to the Isaac Todd. They may have intended to
visit the
Chinook Camp at Point Ellice to look over some squaws but they
failed
to
make the crossing. A strong wind was kicking up huge swells, an
almost
normal condition at the mouth of the river, over five miles wide
at
this
point. The boat was swamped and all were drowned.
The body of Donald McTavish drifted
ashore
and was buried in the tiny cemetery at the northeastern bastion
of the
fort, a suitable tombstone erected some time later. This is of
sandstone,
not native to the area, presumed to be finished from a "blank"
among
many
shipped as ballast in North West ships, the company expecting
many
deaths
among personnel at Fort George.
Barnes Refuses Prince Casaka's Marriage Proposal 1814
Barnes was now left without a
benefactor
but also without restraint, free to make the rounds of the men
at the
fort.
One day, Prince Casaka, a son of Tyee Concomly, one-eyed Chinook
leader
from Point Ellice across the Columbia, was at the fort, offering
Barnes
100 of the finest otter skins for her hand. But the one-time
barmaid
took
a look at his painted face and decided all that fur wouldn’t
keep out
the
smell of his body coating of whale oil. She said, "Chinook go
home" or
a similar phrase of the day.
Sherr and Kazickas wrote that in April
1814
when Jane Barnes set her tiny foot on the banks of the Columbia,
she
became
the first white woman on the Pacific Northwest Coast:
A waitress from Portsmouth, England, in search of adventure, Jane arrived with territorial governor Donald McTavish. He drowned a few weeks later, thus clearing the way for Cassakas, son of a Chinook chief, to woo her. Exquisitely decorated with red paint and shiny whale oil, Cassakas promised Jane she would never have to carry wood, draw water, dig for roots, or hunt. She could have all she wanted of salmon, elk, and anchovies to eat and unlimited pipes of tobacco. Jane nevertheless declined such tempting offers until Cassakas threatened to kidnap her, forcing Jane to leave Oregon in September. Apparently heading for home, Jane stopped in China, where it was learned "she was enjoying all the luxuries of eastern magnificence."
Ruby and Brown wrote that Cassakas arrived at Fort Astoria all dandied up in his best attire,
face debaubed with red paint and body redolent in whale oil, and offered to buy her for a hundred sea otter skins. Were she to have accepted his offer he would have made her his special wife. No hewing of wood and carrying of water and that sort of thing for her—his four other wives could do that. She would have lived a life of leisure, smoked as many pipes of tobacco as she thought proper, and dressed in the manner to which she was accustomed. Rebuffed in his attempts to win her for himself, he plotted with other young men of his tribe to kidnap her as she took her usual stroll on the beach, hoping no doubt to insure himself in Tarzanian fashion a happy life in the wilderness with his Jane. Why not? White man had cohabited with his women; this plan would simply be a fair turnabout.
Jane Leaves Astoria with the East India Company 1814
Some time later capt. Robinson of the
ship
Columbia offered her passage to Canton, China, and she went with
him.
At
least he did "escort a young woman ashore" in Canton, one record
states.
Ruby and Brown elaborate on Barnes'
trip
to the Orient:
In the fall of 1814, Jane would leave
the
Columbia to receive an even better offer from a nabob of the
East India
Company. She would later return to the fort after having
experienced
marriage
and motherhood, which one trader thought had improved neither
her
outlook
nor her language.
Cargo from the Isaac Todd had been
unloaded
and shuttled to the fort on the ten-ton coasting schooner Dolly,
whose
frame the Astorians had shipped to the Columbia aboard the
Tonquin. The
craft was renamed the Jane for the lady of the hour.
Stories about Jane Barnes from here on are
less
well documented, but she is supposed to have taken up with a
wealthy
Englishman
for a time, eventually returning to England where her trail
vanishes.
On the Columbia, history was in the
making.
The Americans regained the country, and in 1818 Fort George was
once
again
Fort Astoria. The town grew. Sometime in the 1870s workmen
excavating
for
a building uncovered half a dozen skeletons and presumably the
McTavish
headstone. A Catholic priest blessed the bones which were then
moved to
a new small burial ground near the top of the hill where the
Astor
Column
now stands. In time the sandstone marker fell over and was
covered with
weeds and brush.
McTavish Grave Excavated 1904
About 1904, Samuel Gill, an uncle of
Harold
Gill of the present J. K. Gill Company in Portland, was in
Astoria as a
crew member of the government survey ship Lincoln. Familiar with
the
McTavish
story, young Gill searched for the long lost grave, located the
cemetery
on the hill and cutting through the weeds, finally reclaimed the
fallen
stone. Determined that the relic be properly preserved, he
enlisted the
aid of an expressman and got the marker in a large gunny sack
and on
board
the sternwheeler Lurline, putting it in the hands of the Oregon
Historical
Society in Portland.
There the stone rested until an Astoria
business man visited the Society's museum and George Hines, the
curator,
showed him the exhibit. The Astoria man and fellow townsmen
wanted it
returned
and promised to take proper care of it. So the slab went back to
Astoria
and was mounted near the front door of the newly erected City
Hall at
16th
and Exchange streets with a cage to protect it from vandals.
Much
later,
when Astoria garden clubs finished landscaping the grounds at
the Fort
Astoria memorial site, the stone was again moved to a spot a
block and
a half above the original location.
North West Fur Company and Hudson's Bay Company Merge 1821
Over the next few years the British expanded the fort, traded for furs throughout the Pacific Northwest, and enjoyed rollicking rendezvous at the damp post on the great river's mouth. In 1821 the North West Fur Company merged with the Hudson's Bay Company, another British concern, and a new set of men came to Astoria. Then, in 1825, Sir George Simpson (1786-1860) moved his headquarters upriver to Fort Vancouver. The Hudson's Bay Company, however, kept at least one man at Fort George from 1829 to 1846 to help their ships negotiate the river's bar and to keep an eye on the restless Americans who were again pushing into the region.
Fort George has "an air of appearance of grandeur and consequences which does not become and is not at all suitable to an Indian trading post."
The Americans Return
Settlers from the East trickled steadily into Astoria in the 1840s. In 1846 the US and Great Britain settled their old boundary dispute and divided the Oregon Country along the 49th parallel. Astoria had become part of the US! The town boasted 252 people in 1850. It grew but slowly until salmon canneries began multiplying in the 1870s. By 1900 Astoria had become the second largest city in the state with 8,381 residents. Declining salmon runs and a large fire reversed the city's growth in the 1820s. Armed services personnel temporarily swell its population during WWII. Today Astoria's economy depends largely upon the traditional fishing, lumbering, and shipping industries while developing services for the thousands of visitors who flock to the historical and natural attraction in and about the venerable old city. Astoria features many reminders of its illustrious past. There is no better place to reflect upon great events and people who shaped Western American history.
Bethenia Owens-Adair, MD
Bethenia
Owens' family was among The
earliest
settlers
in Oregon Territory (1848-1859), heading West in 1843 when she
was
three
years old. The Owens family, which was eventually to include
nine
children,
settled southwest of Astoria. Bethenia spent much of her
childhood
doing
family chores, particularly taking care of the many younger
children.
"I
was the family nurse, and it was seldom that I had not a child
in my
arms...
Where there is a baby every two years, there is always no end of
nursing
to be done..."
Bethenia's brother Flem was her
"constant
companion," and the two enjoyed fighting one another to see who
was the
stronger. Flem, though younger, was bigger, but he never got the
best
of
Bethenia during her tomboy years. The tiny Bethenia's
tomboyishness
seems
to have been based not only on competition with her brother but
on the
general frontier admiration of strength. "My father, a tall
athletic
Kentuckian,
served as sheriff of Pike County for many years, beginning as a
deputy
at the age of 16. It was often said of him: '"Thomas Owens is
not
afraid
of man or the devil.'"
Watching her father build a fine farm
on
the Oregon frontier and seeing her younger brother outpace her
in
growth
and strength, Bethenia admitted that
The regret of my life up to the age of 35 was that I had not been born a boy, for I realized very early in life that a girl was hampered and hemmed in on all sides simply by the accident of sex.
Bethenia did try, however, to follow the principle course then open to women. At the age of 14, in the manner of the frontier in marrying young, she became the spouse of LeGrand Hill, a man who had worked on her father's farm. She went to marriage with all the womanly delight of the time in furnishing out a new home and a new life.
I spent all my time in preparing for my approaching marriage. I had four quilts already pieced and ready for the lining... [mother] also gave me muslin for four sheets, two pairs of pillowcases, two tablecloths, and four towels. I cut and made two calico dresses for myself, and assisted in the making of my wedding dress, which was a pretty, sky-blue figured lawn.
The hopes and enthusiasm that Bethenia
had
for a happy traditional marriage were soon crushed by
disillusionment.
When she looked up at her spouse—he was five feet eleven inches
tall
and
she could fit snugly under one of his arms—she must have thought
that
she
had married the kind of man her father was—a strong, able, and
responsible
person who would provide for his family and take pride in doing
so.
Indeed,
her spouse was off to a far better start than her father had
been when
He first reached Oregon. To the marriage Bethenia had brought a
goodly
array of pots and pans, her father's credit in buying groceries
(which
she did on the afternoon following her wedding), a riding mare,
two
cows
and a heifer, a wagon and harness and considerable furniture
including
"a good feather bed." Her husband had a horse and saddle, a gun,
and
less
than $20. He also had a woman who believed in him: "I thought my
husband
was the equal of any man living."
But whereas her father had started out
in
Oregon with 50 cents and in less than ten years had over
$20,000,
Bethenia's
new spouse was unable to take hold well enough even to provide
her with
proper shelter. "Mr. Hill was always ready to go hunting, no
matter
what
work was pressing to be done." The unimproved cabin they had
acquired
along
with 360 acres remained unimproved the first year, and, by the
coming
winter,
rain was pouring in and skunks roamed the kitchen at night. "I
was not
yet 15 but, girl as I was, I could but realize that this
condition was
due not only to poor management, but to a want of industry and
perseverance."
At Hill's insistence the couple tried
one
move after another to improve their situation. First they went
back to
"visit" Bethenia's father at his ranch near Roseburg where the
Owens
family
had moved to accommodate their growing herds. If her father was
surprised
that his new son-in-law had given up so quickly on making his
own way,
he said nothing. Next Hill took his wife to live near his family
in the
foothills of the Siskiyou Mountains. Unlike Bethenia's parents,
Hill's
apparently refused to help the couple. Having tried to lean upon
each
set
of parents, Hill cast around for some other scheme whereby he
could
achieve
easily what usually comes hard. This time he decided to join the
goldrush
occurring in Yreka, California.
Although Bethenia was considerably
younger
than Hill, she had grown up with a sense of strong values and
believe
in
her own abilities.
A girl of 15 was then considered a woman... I was at home in the saddle (on the journey to Yreka) and felt perfect confidence in myself.
But her sense of confidence in Hill was
dying.
He had forced her to sell her two cows in order to finance the
will-o-the-whisp
chase to Yreka.
In Yreka Bethenia gave birth to a son
whom
they named George. As if she had not worries enough about how
her
husband
was failing as a provider, one of Hill's aunts urged her to give
up the
baby to her.
I will give him all that I have and that is more than his father will ever be able to do for him. I know very well that LeGrand will just fool around all his life and never accomplish anything.
Bethenia was of stronger stuff: "My
baby
was too precious to give to anyone."
By 1857 the couple was backs trying a
new
start in Roseburg. Bethenia had been sick since childbirth and
the baby
was ill and fretful. Hill could not stand the baby's condition
and
treated
him callously. Often he lost his temper with both wife and
child, as
though
his own failures were somehow their fault. Finally Bethenia went
to her
parents and told them she could stand marriage to Hill no
longer. Her
mother
favored a separation, fearing that "...with his temper he is
liable to
kill you at any time." But Bethenia's father told her to go back
and
try
again.
Before long the baby was sick again,
and
again Hill acted up under strain. Added to her troubles with
Hill were
Bethenia's anxieties for her child: "I slept little that night,
expecting
that the child would be in convulsions before morning." This
time when
she went home to her parents she stayed.
Hill repented of his treatment of
Bethenia,
but It was too late. Deep within herself she had formed a
strength and
resolve that was never to leave her in her whole life.
Bethenia's weak
spouse had forced her to develop a determination to meet life on
her
own.
To her penitent spouse she said, "I have told you many times
that if we
ever did separate, I would never go back, and I never will."
Although she was free after four years
of
roller-coaster life with Hill, she was in a difficult position:
And now at 18 years of age, I found myself broken in health and spirit, again in my father's house, from which only four years before I had gone with such a happy heart and such bright hopes for the future. It seemed to me that I should never be happy or strong again... surrounded with the difficulties seemingly almost insurmountable—a husband for whom I had lost all love and respect, a divorce, the stigma of which would cling to me all my future life, and a sickly babe of two years in my arms, all this rose darkly before me.
On top of all this Bethenia could scarcely
read
or write, having only been to a three-month's school taught by
an
itinerant
teacher the summer she was 12 years old.
"I realized my position fully and
resolved
to met It bravely, and do my very best." The first step in her
new
resolve
was to go to school. After getting up each morning at 4am to
help with
the family milking, she went with her younger brothers and
sisters to
primary
school.
"I Was Never Born to be Stuck by Mortal Man"
After mastering the fundamental
subjects
she decided to go to live with her married sister and begin to
earn her
own way. Before leaving her parents' home, however, she filed
for a
divorce.
A neighbor woman, shocked at her action, advised her that the
only
permissible
cause for divorce was adultery. "Go back and beg him on your
knees to
receive
you," the neighbor urged. Bethenia answered firmly, "I was never
born
to
be stuck by mortal man."
The divorce blew up into a rough court
fight
because Hill's mother sought custody of Bethenia's child, hoping
thereby
to draw her own son closer to her. Bethenia's attorney, later
governor
of Oregon, fought the case successfully and Bethenia secured her
divorce,
custody of the child, and the right to resume her maiden name.
The struggle only deepened her
determination
"to make my own livelihood and that of my child." This she first
did by
taking in laundry, "one of the few (occupations) considered
"proper"
for
women in those days." To this she added sewing and nursing and
"thus a
year passed profitably." But she became restless "because of my
intense
thirst for learning. An education I must have at whatever cost."
Bethenia Attends School in Oyster, Washington 1860
Then in 1860 her chance came. Friends
in
Oysterville, Washington Territory, with whom she was visiting
offered
to let her stay
with them and go to school there. She agreed to their proposal
only if
she could earn her own way. For the next five years she
struggled to
get
an education, actually spending most of this period in Astoria
where
she
took in laundry, did housekeeping, and finally was teaching
school.
Before
she got this far she had to bear the "humiliation of having to
recite
with
children from eight to 14 years of age." But she stuck to her
studies,
beginning each morning at 4am, and advanced rapidly. "Nothing
was
permitted
to come between me and this, the greatest opportunity of my
life."
Not only did she manage to support
herself,
take care of her son George, and progress in school, but she
also
managed
to save enough money to build herself a little house in Astoria.
After
her heartbroken disappointment in Hill, she rejoiced in her own
ability
to do well.
During the five years of working 18 and
more hours a day, Bethenia was "happy in my independence, I dare
say,
as
John D. Rockefeller (1839-1937)." Repeatedly Hill wrote to her
asking
her
to remarry him, but she steadfastly refused. Then one night he
showed
up
in person and found, as Bethenia viewed it, not the child bride
he had
abused but "a full-grown, self-reliant, self-supporting woman
who could
look upon him only with pity." Although Hill had failed to
provide
child
support he asked if the could have George visit him. Bethenia
agreed
but,
being older and wiser, alerted the town sheriff to make sure
George was
not taken out of town.
Bethenia Starts Millinery Business in Roseburg 1867
In 1867 she returned to Roseburg and
started
what was to become a successful millinery business.
Lynn Sherr and Jurate Kazickas wrote of
this venture:
At first, Bethenia Owens-Adair didn't know anything about blocking, bleaching, or trimming hats. But with the unwitting help of a competitor whose secrets she learned in 1867 by spying from the rooftop, she soon had one of the most successful shops in town.
By 1870 she was able to send her son to the
University
of California at Berkeley. With her easier financial situation
there
began
to grow in her the desire to become a doctor.
Sherr and Kazickas wrote that she was,
however,
destined for more vital work with scissors and thread:
She memorized Gray's Anatomy and left for Philadelphia to study medicine. "The delicate and sympathetic office of a physician belongs more to my sex than to the other and I will enter it, and make it an honor to women," she vowed.
Stephen F. Chadwick, the attorney who had fought her divorce case, heard her ambition and told her, "Go ahead. It is in you; let it come out. You will win."
Bethenia Attends Electric School of Medicine in Philadelphia
Systematically she began to make
arrangements
to go East to medical school, turning over her business to her
sister.
"But I was not prepared for the storm of opposition that
followed. My
family
felt that they were disgraced... people sneered and laughed
derisively."
One respected woman friend told her that she personally would
never
have
submit to a woman doctor. Bethenia choked back tears and
replied, "Time
will tell. People have been known to change their minds."
Against all arguments she set out for
the
East, taking a train from Marysville, California, on a
rain-swept
night.
She was all alone in the car as the rain beat down and there
came to
her
the full realization "that I was starting out into an untried
world
alone,
with only my own unaided resources to carry me through."
Her unaided resources were sufficient.
Despite
the doubts that assailed her as the train stood in the
Marysville
station,
Bethenia completed the course offered at Philadelphia's Electric
School
of Medicine.
Doctor Owens Returns to Roseburg 1874
When she returned to Roseburg in 1874,
she
was jokingly invited by six male doctors to participate in an
autopsy.
Although the corpse was a male (the autopsy was of genitalia)
and a
crowd
of 50 people were watching, Bethenia skillfully and calmly
maneuvered
her
scalpel. When she had finished, the audience, but not the
doctors, gave
three cheers for "the woman who dared."
Her boldness so scandalized the town,
however,
that later she said she believed she had narrowly escaped being
tarred
and feathered. Enraged at the attitude among her own
townspeople, she
decided
to move to Portland and there she fitted up her office with
electrical
and medical baths, the style of medical treatment she had
learned in
Philadelphia.
Sherr and Kazickas commented that while
in Portland:
...Bethenia dared to ice skate, ride astride on a horse, and go around town without a hat, pleasures as forbidden to women as the vote—for which she relentlessly campaigned.
Her practice became so successful that
she
was able to send George to medical school at Willamette
University and
her sister to Mills College in Oakland, California. During this
time
she
also adopted the daughter of a deceased patient.
Bethenia was not satisfied to be what
was
then termed a "bath doctor" and she decided "I've done my duty
to those
depending upon me and now I will treat myself to a full medical
course
in the old school."
At the age of 38 she entered the
University
of Michigan Medical College. She received her MD in 1880 and
supplemented
her education with clinical work in Chicago, further
postgraduate work,
and a tour of European facilities. On her return to Portland in
1881
she
specialized in eye and ear diseases. Although her practice soon
reached
$7,000 per year, a huge sum in those days, few men were among
her
patients.
But the Roseburg woman who said she would never have a woman
doctor
changed
her mind and became one of Bethenia's patients.
Bethenia became active in the Women's
Suffrage
Movement and in the Oregon State Medical Society and contributed
papers
and lectures to both organizations. She called these years some
of the
happiest and most prosperous years of her life. Looking back on
her
original
decision to become a doctor she said, "I can assure you it was
no
laughing
matter then to break through the customs, prejudices, and
established
rules..."
Controversy Over Eugenic Sterilization
She was not yet done with controversy,
however,
for in later years her pioneer advocacy of eugenic sterilization
brought
another storm around her.
Sherr and Kazickas said that her
greatest
notoriety came from:
...her 15 year effort to pass a law to sterilize the criminally insane. The law was approved in 1925, a year before her death.
Owens Marries John Adair 1884
Nor was she done with family life. In 1884 she married John Adair, a childhood friend. Gen. John Adair, then a colonel, was the first collector of customs at Astoria. He became postmaster of the Astoria office on November 8, 1849. This was the first American post office on the Pacific Coast. On April 10, 1852, Gen. Adair wrote to Gov. Joseph Lane as follows:
When I came to the country, or shortly after, you know [John M.] Shively, who was postmaster and resided on the hill at Fort George, left for the mines, leaving no one to take care of the office... McClure, who would not allow a mail bag to go into his house and demanded of the postmaster general an immediate release as security. I consented to take the poor bantling.
John Adair was also prominent in Clatsop
County
affairs and the father of Henry Rodney Adair for whom Camp Adair
(Benton
and Polk counties) was named. Henry’s son, Samuel, had a summer
home
high
on the ground above the small waterfall in Fall Creek.
In 1887, Bethenia and John moved to
Clatsop
County established a farm along the upper reaches of Adair
Slough. They
adopted two more children: George's son, whose mother had died,
and the
newborn baby of a patient. In 1887, Dr. Owens-Adair, then 47,
gave
birth
to a daughter but the baby died within a few days.
Upon her marriage to John Adair,
Bethenia
gave up her city practice and became part time doctor and part
time
farmer.
Her active career in public life continued almost up until the
time of
her death at age 86.
One of the proudest moments in her life
occurred in 1905 when the Portland Medical Club hosted the
American
Medical
Association at a banquet honoring women physicians. Bethenia
noted,
This is the first time in the history of the sessions of the AMA that women have had a distinct recognition... It is another instance of the West setting the pace and establishing precedents for the rest of the country to follow... I thank God that I have been spared to see this day, when women are acknowledged before the world as the equal of men in medicine and surgery; and, above all, that my own Oregon is in the forefront of this grand forward movement.
"Feminist, Teacher, Physician and Social Reformer"
For almost 50 years after her death in 1926, the grave of Oregon's most controversial pioneer doctor was marked with only a tiny cement pauper's marker, overgrown by grass. In July 1975, concerned citizens of Clatsop County finally dedicated this fitting memorial. Bethenia Owens-Adair is praised as "feminist, teacher, physician and social reformer." Her much debated book Human Sterilization and her outspoken championing of Equal Rights for women were an outgrowth of one of her favorite creeds, carved into granite stone:
Only the enterprising and the brave are actuated to become pioneers.
Chapter 3: The Fur Trade
Portage, Wisconsin, which was
headquarters
for John Jacob Astor's American Fur Company from 1812 to 1842,
gained
significance
as early as the 1670s as part of the Fox-Wisconsin waterway
system
which
carried furs gathered west of and in Wisconsin and to eastern
markets.
Existing 19th century maps illustrate the portage crossing the
1.5
miles
interval at approximately its narrowest width. Until 1850, the
portage
forked with one leg ascending the hill to the northwest and the
other
going
directly west to the Wisconsin. A corduroy road spanned the
marshy
portage.
For its role in the fur trade, Wauona Trail, which follows the
approximate
course of the portage, gained National Register recognition in
1973.
The fur trade provided the milieu
within
which Europeans in Wisconsin first exploited its resources,
formulating
policies towards its inhabitants, and in some cases adopted new
life
styles.
Indians, in turn, began to adapt their traditional cultures to
the
presence
of the Europeans. Native American groups in the Midwest
participated in
the fur trade well before the appearance of the Europeans in
Wisconsin.
In their book, Writing the Range: Race,
Class, and Culture in the Women's West, Historians Elizabeth
Jameson
and
Susan Armitage write:
The fur trade also introduced wage work for women who performed domestic and gardening work on the trading posts or who worked in the fish canneries in coastal trading posts. While these types of occupations may have helped to support families, we do not have a clear picture of how the women themselves viewed the effect on their lives—an emic (insider's) view. From an etic, or an outsider's, view, women do not appear to gain in general, if they lack control over what they produce and wages are minimal.
The Huron and Ottawa occupying territory to
the
east of Wisconsin served as middlemen between the French at
Montreal
and
Wisconsin groups who received European goods for furs. The
struggle of
the Huron, Ottawa, and Iroquois to protect their positions as
middlemen
from competing groups to their west resulted in the movement of
Native
American groups west into Wisconsin in the 1640s and 1650s. By
the
1660s,
the Ottawa and Huron, having been defeated by the Iroquois,
reestablished
themselves at Chequamegon Bay along Lake Superior. Since these
two
groups
continued their role as middlemen between Wisconsin Native
Americans
and
other groups of the Upper Mississippi basin and the French,
Chequamegon
Bay remained a major fur trade center in specific European goods
and
associated
technologies which represented an improvement over weapons and
tools
already
in use. At this stage, the Native Americans adapted primarily to
economic
aspects of the European culture. They shifted the emphasis in
their
economy
toward hunting but did not abandon their other seasonal
activities.
They
expanded their territory, engaged in additional warfare to
accomplish
it,
often formed small living units, and gained greater mobility to
secure
the furs but did not alter the essential patterns of their
culture.
But,
to accomplish this change, rapid adjustments within the culture
did
occur.
American historian Frederick Jackson
Turner
(1861-1932), who was born in Portage, Wisconsin, discusses the
negative
effects of the fur traders on Native Americans:
Why was it that the Indian trader
passed
so rapidly across the continent? What effects followed from the
trader's
frontier?
The explanation of the rapidity of this
advance is bound with the effects of the trader on the Indian.
The
trading
post left the unarmed tribes at the mercy of those that had
purchased
firearms—a
truth which the Iroquois wrote in blood, and so the remote and
unvisited
tribes gave eager welcome to the trader. "The savages," wrote
French
explorer
René-Robert Cavalier de La Salle (1643-1687), "take
better care
of us French than of their own children; from us only can they
get guns
and goods." This accounts for the trader's power and the
rapidity of
his
advance. Thus the disintegrating forces of civilization entered
the
wilderness.
Every river valley and Indian trail became a fissure in Indian
society,
and so that society became honeycombed. Long before the pioneer
farmer
appeared on the scene, primitive Indian life had passed away.
The
farmers
met Indians armed with guns. The trading frontier, while
steadily
undermining
Indian power by making the tribes ultimately dependent on the
whites,
yet
through its sale of guns gave to the Indian increased power of
resistance
to the farming frontier. French colonization was dominated by
its
trading
frontier, English colonization by its farming frontier. There
was an
antagonism
between the two frontiers as between two nations. Said Dequesne
to the
Iroquois,
Are you ignorant of the differences between the king of England and the king of France? Go see the forts that our king has established and you will see that you can still hunt under their very walls. They have been placed for your advantage in places which you frequent. The English, on the contrary, are no sooner in possession of a place than the game is driven away. The forest falls before them as they advance, and the soil is laid bare so that you can scarce find the wherewithal to erect a shelter for the night.
By the 1660s, some French traders and
missionaries
had begun to accompany the Huron and Ottawa middlemen west.
However,
the
fur trade in then Wisconsin remained in the hands of the Ottawa
and
Huron
not the French, and these Native Americans took the furs to
Montreal.
But
when the Sioux drove the Huron and Ottawa from their position as
middlemen
in 1671, the French soon arrived to fill the void. In that year,
Simon
Francois Daumont de Saint Lusson arrived at Sault Saint Marie,
Michigan
to claim the lands to be discovered north, south, and west of
lakes
Huron
and Superior for the French government.
Perhaps even preceded by some French
coureur
de bois or illegal independent traders, the trip of Jacques
Marquette
(1637-1675)
and Louis Jolliet (1645-1700) opened a new era in the
Mississippi
provided
a trade route to the Pacific. They traveled from the Great
Lakes, up
the
Fox River, over the portage, and along the Wisconsin River to
the
Mississippi.
Marquette and Jolliet left Saint Ignatius Mission established in
1672
at
Mackinac, Michigan on May 17, 1673. Their Miami guides led them
across
the portage on June 14, 1673, and they entered the Mississippi
on June
17. Marquette and Jolliet reached the mouth of the Arkansas
before
returning
north in July by way of the Illinois, Des Plaines, and Chicago
rivers
to
Lake Michigan. Other representatives of the French government
followed.
They explored the waterways primarily to locate available trade
routes,
remaining alert to possible opportunities in which they might
engage
the
Native American groups in the fur trade. Sent by La Salle to
explore
the
Upper Mississippi, Fr. Louis Hennepin (c1626-1701), a Jesuit
missionary,
crossed the portage with his party in 1679. Daniel Greysolon de
Duluth
(1636-1710) later recovered him from the Sioux. La Salle first
traveled
the waterway and crossed the portage to contact and establish
trade
relations
with the Sioux in 1683. In 1685, Nicolas Perrot (1644-1717)
traversed
the
Fox-Wisconsin waterway and the intervening portage to establish
a fur
trading
post at Lake Pepin in Sioux territory. He was transporting his
furs
across
the portage was were other Frenchmen whom he encountered in
1690-1691.
These individuals constituted some of the better known traders
and
missionaries
crossing the portage in the late 1600s, but there were certainly
many
others
after 1673.
The fur trade system remained in
transition
in the 1670s and 1680s. The French slowly assumed the role of
the
Native
American middleman, bringing the trade goods to Wisconsin and
removing
the furs from Wisconsin to Montreal. The Fox, Sac, and
Potawatomi
resisted
this shift in roles and attempted to block their passage through
Wisconsin
in the 1680s and periodically as late as the 1730s. As the Fox
in
particular
continued to block French traders in the early 1700s, the French
engaged
them in a series of wars between 1712 and 1738. It was not until
after
the Fox wars that the French finally gained complete control of
the
trade
in Wisconsin. By that date, the French initiated the trading
system
which
they had previously developed outside the Mississippi River
Valley.
Because of its dispersed nature, the
fur
trade remained difficult to regulate. The French government
required
that
each independent trader or bourgeois financed by credit from a
trading
company obtained one of a limited number of trading licenses
from the
government
at Montreal or Quebec. The bourgeois sold his beaver pelts at a
fixed
price
to designated buyer at Montreal. The French bourgeois directed
the
activities
of his voyageurs who carried trade goods into major interior
posts and
took furs to Montreal from them in their canoe brigades. The
Native
American
groups now traded with the bourgeois or his representative at
these
posts
or rendezvous points rather than selling their furs to the Huron
and
Ottawa.
Here, they bargained with bourgeois's agent for the sale of the
furs in
the spring, and the voyageurs returned in the fall with trade
goods.
Missionaries Accompany Fur Traders West
In the late 1600s and early 1700s,
Catholic
missionaries accompanied the voyageurs West. To engage the
Native
Americans
and survive in the interior, the French adopted parts of their
culture
such as their foods, some of their technology, and Native
American
ceremony
such as the gift exchange, use of ceremonial metals, and other
forms of
diplomacy. They married into the Native American groups.
Historians Elizabeth Jameson and Susan
Armitage
wrote that one of the outcomes of unions between French and
British
traders
or trappers and Indian women
was the creation of a mixed-blood group. In Canada the French-Indian mixed-bloods (Métis) form a group considered separate from either Indian or white. In the US, mixed-bloods were considered Indian but were more likely to have received Euro-American education and to have become part of an elite "comprador" group who often worked more closely with whites and the Bureau of Indian Affairs.
Those involved in the fur trade eventually
formed
small communities adjacent to the trading posts at such
locations as
Green
Bay and Prairie du Chien.
By the mid-18th Century, the bourgeois
trading
in the Upper Mississippi District with the Menomonee, Winnebago,
Fox,
Sac,
and Potawatomi used Green Bay as their base of operations.
Because its
northern location reduced spoilage, the Fox-Wisconsin waterway
became a
favored route along which to transport the furs. Along with this
water
route, the portage remained in active use especially after the
1730s.
Although
it may have periodically served as a meeting place and point of
distribution
of goods and collection of furs by the late 1600s until the
1730s, the
adjacent Fox blocked the passage of French traders until the end
of the
Fox wars.
The volume of the fur trade and level
of
contact intensified after the British gained control of the
Mississippi
Valley. The trading patterns established by the French by the
1740s and
1750s generally continued under British rule beginning at the
close of
the French and Indian War in 1763. Although some of the same
French
merchants
retained control, Scottish investors replaced many of the French
bourgeois
in the Montreal trading companies. After 1770, the bourgeois or
traders
gradually established temporary sub-posts or wintering quarters
closer
to the territory of the Native American groups. In the fall,
they began
to send engages who completed the trading and clerks with the
trade
goods
to wintering quarters near each band. Furs were brought to the
wintering
quarters in the spring and taken to the rendezvous point or main
posts
in the early summer. Then, accounts were settled with each band
and the
next year's arrangements consummated. By the late 1700s, the
bourgeois
extended increasing amounts of credit to Native American groups.
The
smaller
traders sold their furs and purchased goods from these larger
merchants
at Prairie du Chien. By the 1760s, use of the portage as a minor
rendezvous
point had probably begun. A deserter from a French garrison in
Illinois,
Pinneshon, became the first known squatter at the portage by
1766.
American
explorer Jonathan Carver noted the presence of the Frenchman as
he
crossed
the portage in that year. Although it is certainly possible,
there is
no
evidence that he operated as a small trader. He engaged in the
transport
business moving at least goods if not the large mackinaws
(barges)
across
the portage. Pinneshon erected a dwelling midway between the Fox
and
Wisconsin.
There is a story about Pinneshon that
was
obviously told in order to "poke fun" at and to test the
credulity of a
"greenhorn" in the wilderness for the first time:
I observed here (the portage) a great number of rattle snakes. Monsieur Pinneshon, a French-Canadian fur trader, told me a remarkably story concerning one of these reptiles, of which he said he was an eye-witness. An Indian, belonging to the Menomonee nation, having taken one of them, found means to tame it; and when he had done this, treated it as a deity; calling it his great father; and carrying it with him in a box wherever he went. This the Indian had done for several summers, when Monsieur Pinneshon accidentally met him at this carrying place, just as he was setting off for a winter's hunt. The French gentleman was surprised, one day, to see the Indian place the box which contained his God on the ground, and opening the door give him his liberty; telling him, whilst he did it, to be sure and return by the time he himself should come back, which was to be in the month of May following. As this was but October, Monsieur told the Indian, whose simplicity astonished him, that he fancied he might wait long enough when May arrived, for the arrival of his great father. The Indian was so confident of his creature's obedience, that he offered to lay the Frenchman a wager of two gallons of rum, that at the time appointed he would come and crawl into his box. This was agreed upon, and the second week in May following fixed for the determination of the wager. At the appointed day both men arrived but the snake did not appear. The Indian offered to double the bet if his great father did not come within two days. This was agreed upon; when behold on the second day, about 1pm, the snake arrived, and of his own accord, crawled into the box, which was placed ready for him! The Frenchman vouched for the truth of this story.
After the closing of the French forts in the early 1760s, the French bourgeois continued to winter at interior settlements such as Green Bay and Prairie du Chien. But, the regional administrative headquarters where furs were deposited and trade goods received shifted from Green Bay to Mackinac. Warehouses at the regional headquarters housed trading goods and supplies for the field. In 1774, the Great Lakes and Ohio Valley regions were placed in the Province of Quebec and governed from Montreal. With the onset of the American Revolution, the hostilities between tribes supporting the British and Americans tended to turn traders away from the Upper Mississippi Valley to its northwest until 1783. Despite the peace treaty of 1783, the British retained control of the fur trade from their Canadian posts until the War of 1812. The Jay Treaty of 1796 stipulated that the British evacuate posts occupied in American territory, but it allowed both nations to engage in trade with Native Americans on either side of the boundary. The treaty permitted the British to use the Fox-Wisconsin waterway.
The North West Company 1783
After 1783, British traders began to
form
fur companies to deal with the raising number of competitors. As
a
group
of British traders formed the North West Company and held a
monopoly
over
the trade along Lake Superior and to the West, independent
traders many
of whom were headquartered at Prairie du Chien turned to the
Upper
Mississippi.
The French traders operating along the Upper Mississippi
including
Wisconsin
who were based at Prairie du Chien and Green Bay then lost the
trading
advantage of the less expensive British trade goods. But, they
continued
to operate successfully as independent traders, often forming
short-lived
partnerships, until after 1803 when the center of trade shifted
to
Saint
Louis which served the Missouri basin. Traders at Green Bay at
the turn
of the century included Charles de Langlade, Pierre Grignon,
Jacques
Portlier,
John Lawe, Joseph LeRoy, and Jacques Vieau. John Campbell, a
Scot,
located
at Prairie du Chien. These traders or their representatives
periodically
traded in the portage vicinity.
By the 1770s and 1780s, the portage
served
as an established gathering place for traders and Native
Americans. In
1787, Joseph Ainse described his arrival at Green Bay, his
ascent of
the
Fox, and the meeting and gift exchange with the Puant or
Winnebago at
the
portage. Primarily Green Bay traders or their representatives
began
temporary
settlement at the portage with increasing frequency by the
1790s. Some
also continued to operate a transport business. In 1792-1793,
James
Portlier
and Charles Reaume traded and transported goods for a short
period.
Laurent
Barth obtained permission from the Winnebago to transport goods
across
the portage in 1793. He and subsequent operators hauled the
goods and
later
the mackinaws on carts. Engaging in the fur trade as an
independent
trader
and selling his furs at Mackinac, he also established a small
trading
post
and constructed a cabin at the west of the portage. Barth first
located
on the lowlands of the portage and removed to higher ground in
1794. He
appears to have resided at the portage during much of the year.
In
1798,
Jean Lecuyer established a similar business, placing himself at
the
east
end of the portage. John Campbell purchased Barth’s business
rights in
1803, and Barth departed. Both Campbell and Lecuyer died in 1808
and
1810
respectively. In 1797 and 1798, Jacques Vieux, who is usually
associated
with Milwaukee, wintered and traded at the portage. In
1801-1802,
Augustine
Grignon, a noted trader, also wintered at the portage. They
presumably
provided the local Winnebago with supplies and collected their
furs for
transportation to Mackinac.
Michilimachinac Company Merges with Astor's South West Company 1811
In 1805, several Canadian traders including independent traders at Green Bay and Prairie du Chien united into a single company, Robert Dickason and Company. The company attempted to limit the ruinous competition among the traders by expanding their trading areas to the northeast and assigning specific areas to each trader. After this company's failure in 1807, the same group of Montreal merchants who controlled the North West Company absorbed the former into their newly formed Michilimachinac Company to control the trade south of the Canadian border. After the onset of hostilities between the British and the Americans, the Michilimachinac Company maintained its trade south of the border by merging with Astor's South West Company in 1811. After the War of 1812, the Americans gained control of the final years of the fur trade. The government attempted to regulate the trade through a dual system of government fur trade factories and the licensing of private traders by the superintendent of Indian affairs and his agents. The regulations under the later system were poorly enforced. In the face of this competition, the absence of credit, gifts, and alcohol doomed the government factory system which lasted from 1796 to 1822.
Astor Forms the American Fur Company 1812-1842
Buying out his Canadian partners in the South West Company, Astor reestablished it as the American Fur Company and dominated the Wisconsin fur trade after the War of 1812. An 1816 law barred aliens from the fur trade. It forced the Wisconsin traders, a majority of whom had supported the British, to gain American citizenship or act as agents for Astor under the direction of a licensed American clerk. Astor operated by either hiring agents to manage the trade in specific regions or contracting with independent traders who dealt only through the American Fur Company. Under either system, the agent or trader worked on commission receiving trade goods and supplies on credit and welling their furs to the company at their prices. As the fur harvest waned, Astor profited while his agents accumulated debts to him. By operating in this fashion, Astor absorbed many of his competitors. When Astor retired from the fur trade in 1834, the company underwent reorganization under the ownership of Hercules Dousman, Henry Sibley, and by 1840 Joseph Roulette. The general pattern prevailing during the British era of trade remained. With the introduction of the steamboat on the Mississippi by the 1820s, trade goods often came up the Mississippi rather than across the Fox-Wisconsin waterway. Prairie du Chien became a major distribution point for goods. But, traders continued to ship furs across the waterway to Mackinac and onto New York to prevent the spoilage of furs. Because the distances made transportation difficult, small traders frequently purchased Native American furs and stored them for sale to more substantial traders during the trading season. In 1842, the American Fur Company failed, and fur trade activities were controlled by the Chouteau Company at Saint Louis which primarily operated along the Upper Mississippi. As settlement expanded from the lead mining centers in Southwest Wisconsin, Native American populations were removed. The number of fur bearing animals significantly declined, and the fur trade waned rapidly after 1830.
Government Builds Fort Winnebago to Protect Astor's Fur Trading Interests 1821
In 1821, the American Fur Company established itself at the portage. The Southwestern Fur Company acquired the fur trading post located at the east end of the portage north of the site of the Agency House and across the Fox River from the site of Fort Winnebago in 1808. Roulette purchased the post as an independent trader in 1815 and sold it to the American Fur Company in 1821. The government constructed the fort in part to protect Astor’s fur trading interests at the portage. The company maintained a series of traders at the post including Pierre Pauquette who became established perhaps by 1824 but before 1827 or 1834. Pauquette also employed five or six men and maintained oxen to haul mackinaw boats across the portage. By 1828, the post included a log house, barracks, and a barn. In 1834, Pauquette pursued his trading activities independently. He moved to the Wisconsin placing his building complex on a knoll west of the south end of the site of the Wisconsin River bridge. On what became the Barden property, he established a trading house, dwelling, and two or three farm buildings. He also operated a ferry at this site. After Pauquette, Henry Merrill, then sutler at Fort Winnebago, represented the American Fur Company in 1834. Following its usual practice, the American Fur Company furnished him goods on shares. Prior to 1839, perhaps as early as 1837, John Baptiste DuBay was located on the Grignon Tract to the west and participated as an independent trader. The post remained under the ownership of the American Fur Company until 1851 when Dousman transferred his rights to the post to DuBay. DuBay remained the trader at the post until his departure in 1857 following the shooting of John Reynolds. His departure represented the close of fur trading activities adjacent to what had become the City of Portage, Wisconsin.
Fur Magnate John Jacob Astor Arrives in Baltimore 1784
In the winter of 1784, a German
immigrant
named John Jacob Astor (1763-1848) arrived in Baltimore with
seven
flutes,
which he sold at a profit and thence went on to more and greater
profits—through
the sale of furs, not flutes. By 1810 and now a magnate in the
trade he
decided to establish his new subsidiary, the Pacific Fur
Company, at
the
mouth of the Columbia. His scheme was to sell goods to the
Indians and
the Russians in Alaska, and in return buy furs from them to sell
in the
Orient. It could not have been a more promising scheme. In
operation it
could have hardly been more disastrous.
One contingent of the staff Astor sent
to
the Columbia traveled by land, the other by sea, the latter in
the
Tonquin
captained by Jonathan Thorn. Capt. Thorn turned out to be a
psychopath,
and through his madness, eight men were lost at sea before the
Tonquin
reached its destination. This destination lay on the south side
of the
Columbia's mouth, a rise of land at the end of a little
Bay—present-day
Astoria.
Psychopath Jonathan Thorn Anchors at Fort Astoria 1811
At first glance it seemed most
inviting.
"The weather was magnificent," wrote Gabriel Franchere, one of
the
company
clerks, "and all nature smiled. The forest looked like pleasant
groves
and the leaves like flowers." The trees in this forest, however,
often
had a girth of 50 feet, grew densely together, and were
interspersed by
giant boulders. Few of the company clerks had ever felled a tree
and
none
under such conditions. After planting the 12 potatoes that had
survived
the journey, the company set to work. Two months later barely an
acre
had
been cleared, two men had been badly injured by falling trees
and one
had
blown his hand off. Morale was not helped by the fact that in
the same
period three of the company were killed by the natives.
At about the same time—the spring of
1811—Capt.
Thorn set off in the Tonquin for a trading expedition up the
coast
while,
at Saint Louis, Astor’s overland contingent set off for the
Columbia.
On
Vancouver Island, Thorn, acting with his usual intemperance,
struck an
Indian chief across the face with a roll of fur. A few days
later, in
retaliation,
the natives massacred Thorn and his crew, during which the ship
blew up.
Astor's Overland Land Contingent Survived on Shoe Leather and Urine
The overland contingent was plagued by disaster as well. One party, lost in the uplands of the Snake, was reduced for nourishment to their own moccasins and quenched their thirst with urine.
Fort George Under British Control 1813
The coup de grace to Astor's scheme
occurred
in June 1812, when the US declared war on Britain. This put the
Astorians
in an awkward position. At any time the British might arrive and
seize
the post. Also, more and more men of the British-owned North
West Fur
Company,
"those strutting and plumed bullies of the north," were showing
up at
the
post, waiting for the prize to drop into their hands. But there
was
uncertainty
as to when the British would arrive, and the outcome of the war,
and so
the Astorians succeeded in persuading the Nor'Westerners to buy
the
post.
In December of 1813 the Stars and Stripes came down, the Union
Jack
went
up and Astoria became Fort George.
The Astorian enterprise resulted in
some
benefits. The overland parties explored new territory. The
fur-collection
stations established in various locales of the Pacific
Northwest,
including
the Willamette Valley, provided a more extensive knowledge of
the
region.
And finally the settlement of Astoria, along with Gray and Lewis
and
Clark's
activities, would be another basis for the American territorial
claim
to
the Northwest. But the price was very high. All told, the
Astorian
enterprise
took the lives of over 60 adventurers (and many Indians as
well).
Hudson's Bay Company Buys Fort George 1821
The sale of Astoria had much to do with the fact that for the next three decades Britons, rather than Americans, dominated the American country. This occurred through the agency of the Hudson's Bay Company. The company operating by royal charter in the vicinity of Hudson's Bay in Eastern Canada, gradually moved westward—a move that culminated in its merger with the North West Company and the acquisition of Fort George in 1821. The company's principal activity was the trading of articles such as blankets, ironworks and firearms for pelts mainly sold in England. The specific reason for its interest in the Northwest lay in a fashion—the fashion for beaver hats. This simple fad rather than some grand strategy, lay behind the British presence in the Northwest.
Fort Vancouver Established 1825
The headquarters for this presence was
Fort
Vancouver, established in 1825 near the confluence of the
Willamette
and
Columbia rivers. Canadian explorer Sir George Simpson
(1792-1860), the
company's governor in the West, used to say that no great
English
country
house occupied a site more beautiful—there on the gently sloping
downs
above the river with the mountains and the valley beyond. Here
was
finally
erected a stockade 20 feet high, 150 yards wide, 215 yards long.
It
contained
some 40 buildings. Among these was Bachelor Hall, a residence
for the
company's
unmarried officers, which boasted a wine cellar as well as a
library
with
the latest London journals.
The fort’s warehouses stocked supplies
for
the fur brigades, the Indian and squatter trade, and for the
20-30
other
company posts in the department. Most Indians were shrewd
traders, so
trade
goods were carefully chosen. Almost all of the trade items were
imported
from Oregon through Britain, so there was a two-year lapse
between
ordering
and receiving.
The fort's shops bustled with activity,
manufacturing as many items as possible. The fort echoed to
sounds of
carpenters
hammering and sawing, of blacksmiths making tools and repairing
old
ones,
and of coopers making barrels. Carts rumbled to and fro piled
high with
supplies and with firewood for the bakehouse's large brick
ovens.
Indians
arrived continually to trade, passing farmers and herders
tending crops
and livestock. Company clerks bent over their account books
figuring
out
how much who owed whom. Frequent visitors were welcomed and
eagerly
quizzed
for news and gossip of the outside.
Though everyone worked hard and for
long
hours—Sunday was the only day of rest in the yearly years—the
free time
was enjoyed to the fullest. Hunting, riding, picnicking, foot
racing,
and
other competitive feats of strength were favored past times. The
arrival
of a supply ship or of one of the Royal Navy's vessels was cause
for
extra
celebration. Once a group of naval officers produced a play, the
first
theatrical performance in the Northwest.
Clerks and officers, who came from the
British
isles, formed the "gentlemen" class. The lower class, or
"engagés,"
made up the bulk of the employees. With few exceptions, they
were
illiterate
and lived outside the palisade.
Simpson once wrote a description of a
trip
down the Columbia River and it indicated the diversity of Fort
Vancouver:
Our crew of ten men contained Iroquois who spoke their own tongue; a Cree half-blood of French origin, who appeared to have borrowed his dialect from both his parents; a north Britain who understood only the gaelic of his native hills; Canadians who, of course, knew French, and Sandwich Islanders, who jabbered a medley of Chinook and their own vernacular jargon. Add to all this that the passengers were natives of England, Scotland, Russia, Canada, and the Hudson Bay territories.
The environment might have been primitive, but that was no reason why the life lived in it should be so as well.
Marguerite and John McLoughlin Build Wilderness Mansion 1829
The most impressive of the fort's structures lay at its center, a manorhouse in the French-Canadian style, flower beds before it, cannon to either side, and pacing sentries. This was the residence of the chief factor of the district—Alaska to California—Dr. John McLoughlin (1784-1857):
Simple in design, with two stories and a root cellar, the mouse was elegant for the Willamette Valley, where most emigrant families lived in crude log cabins. It was built completely of finished lumber—local timber and prefabricated trim shipped from a Boston factory. The first floor consisted of a large parlor, a dining room, a reception room, and McLoughlin's office. Upstairs were three bedrooms, as well as a sitting room and a hallway that often doubled as a guest room. The McLoughlin home was known locally as "the house of many beds," a reference to the hospitality the family extended to just about anyone passing through Oregon City. The steady stream of house guests included relatives, friends, business associates, new emigrants, a traveling artist, and a good many retired Hudson's Bay Company employees to whom McLoughlin felt a special responsibility. McLoughlin's wife Marguerite opened her home to the needy and was thought of as "one of the kindest women in the world." Other permanent residents were daughter Eloisa and her family, and the Indian servants who had been in McLoughlin's employ at Fort Vancouver.
The White-Headed Eagle
Primarily responsible for the post's
success
was Dr. John McLoughlin, an energetic man and a genius at
organization
who served as chief factor during most of those years. He was a
man of
remarkable intelligence, vigor, color, character and those
qualities
from
which our pioneer predecessors benefited greatly; generosity and
compassion.
McLoughlin was born in Rivière
du
Loup, the Province of Quebec and trained as a physician near
Montreal.
The son of an Irish father and a mother half-Scottish,
half-French, he
had in his youth two great advantages. On the one hand he knew
the hard
work and hardships of a poor farmer's son. On the other he had
the good
fortune to spend time at the estate of his maternal grandfather,
a man
of cultivation. From these two experiences he acquired that
balance so
rare—the balance of toughness and grace.
He joined the North West Company as a
physician
at its post at Fort William. When the North West and Hudson’s
Bay
companies
merged, McLoughlin was named head of the Columbia Department by
Sir
George
Simpson, head of the Hudson's Bay Company.
However, Simpson and McLoughlin never
warmed
to one another and throughout their careers could barely control
the
irritation
and hostility they felt for one another.
When McLoughlin arrived at Fort
Vancouver
in 1825 he was 41, a big man, six feet four inches, his white
hair
parted
in the middle and falling to the shoulders, his steely eyes the
color
of
gun metal, the mouth firm. He looked equally capable of
administering
the
lash or holding up to the sunlight a goblet of port.
McLoughlin had three principal duties
at
the fort.
The first was to make money—to trap out
the whole of the Northwest, bring in the pelts, dress them and
send
them
off to London. He did, and the company profited handsomely.
A second duty was to control the
natives.
He did this by prohibiting certain earlier practices. For
example, it
had
been common practice to offer rum to the natives and then—after
they
were
well addicted—to trade with them, a little rum for many furs.
Also,
McLoughlin
always kept his word, whether for reward or punishment—always.
In
return
for all these things the Natives called their children after
him, made
him a chief, "White-Headed Eagle," and, it is said, carved his
face,
this
pale face, into their totem poles.
McLoughlin’s third duty was a vexing
one;
it was to prevent settlement in the Oregon Country for the
following
reasons.
By now the region was claimed both by the US and Britain by
right of
discovery—Britain
basing its claim on Broughton's voyage to the Columbia Gorge.
Since
these
claims could not be reconciled, the two countries concluded that
the
region
be open to the citizens of both countries until 1828, when once
again
the
problems would be discussed.
Such was the treaty, but McLoughlin's
instructions
were to discourage the American presence in any way possible.
For one
thing
there was the truth of the old adage that where the ax of the
settler
rang,
and trapping and the selling of furs was, after all, the
company's
business.
Also, it was obvious that if the Americans settled in any
number,
American
claims to the region would be strengthened.
By seeing to it that the area south of
the
Columbia would be thoroughly trapped out, McLoughlin did succeed
in
discouraging
the encroachments of American trappers, but in forestalling
settlement
he failed. In a sense this failure began within, for the fort
itself
was
a settlement in several respects. In the year of its
establishment,
grain
was sown, orchards planted and cattle allowed to
multiply—resulting in
a farm of 1500 acres. Then there was the population of the fort,
no
camp
at the crossing of forest paths but a community of several
hundred with
schools, churches and other attributes of permanence.
More fundamental than this was an act
of
McLoughlin's compassion. Upon retirement, the company's
French-Canadian
trappers were required by their contracts to return to Quebec
for
mustering
out. Beginning in 1829, McLoughlin permitted them to take land
and farm
on the banks of the Willamette near present day Saint Paul. Thus
did
settlement
begin in Oregon—with French-Canadian trappers, not American
pioneers, a
fact sometimes forgotten.
Trappers and Hatters
Long before the American West was
settled,
it had been crisscrossed by lone scouts and hunters and trappers
searching
for new, untouched grounds. At the center of this fur trading
enterprise
stood the Hudson's Bay Company and its main post, Fort
Vancouver.
As the vagaries of fashion carried the
beaver
hat to the heights of popularity, the demand for that animal's
fur
increased
enormously. From Fort Vancouver the Hudson's Bay Company sent
out
brigades
of trappers that included from 50 to 200 men, women and
children.
Trapping
was hard and often dangerous work, particularly because most of
it was
done in the winter, when the pelts are the thickest.
The earliest trappers had adopted the
Indian's
method of breaking into a beaver lodge and taking the animals,
but soon
the steel trap came into use. The trap, designed to catch the
beaver by
the leg, was set in shallow water. It was attached by a chain to
a
sharpened
stake implanted in deeper water. The traps were baited with
castoreum,
a scent obtained from the glands in the hind quarters of the
beaver.
All
this activity was going on while the trapper stood in the water,
often
ice-cold, so that he did not leave his scent on the bank.
The curious beaver, attracted by the
castoreum,
stepped into the trap. The next morning the trapper skinned his
catch.
Back at camp, he or his squaw scraped
the
flesh from the skins and stretched them to dry.
After almost a year in the wilderness,
the
trapping brigades, with their furs in tow, got ready to head
back to
Fort
Vancouver. Joining up with one another, the brigades made their
way to
the Columbia and Fort Vancouver where the people awaited their
arrival.
It was a festive time of year and the trappers themselves made a
show
of
their arrival, donning their best and most colorful clothes,
swaggering
out of their boats, and jauntily unloading their furs. The
winters in
the
wilderness had convinced them they were superior to the regular
work
force
at the fort.
Now the company clerks took over,
appraising
the furs, paying the trappers, and preparing the furs for
shipment to
London.
Turning the beaver pelts into the
fashionable
hats involved a number of steps. The hats were not made from the
whole
pelts as is sometimes assumed. First, the course guard hairs
were
pulled
off. Then, the soft and desirable under fur was shaved and set
aside.
From experience the hatters knew how
much
fur was needed to make one hat. They weighed out the proper
amount of
fur
and piled it in a small mound.
Twanging a bow string through the fur
spread
it out evenly and caused the microscopic hairs to hook onto one
another.
This "batt" was stacked with others
separated
by wet cloths from which the batts absorbed moisture. Two batts,
which
were needed for each hat, were joined together in the shape of a
hood.
These hoods, or hat bodies, were boiled for six to eight hours
to
produce
the compact and tight body needed for the final step.
The body was placed on a wooden mold in
the shape of a hat and carefully shaped so that it fitted
smoothly. In
the hatter’s capable hands this step was soon completed and
except for
finishing touches the work was done.
In the 1830s, silk hats were
introduced.
As the beaver population of the Northwest declined through over
trapping,
silk replaced beaver on the market. By the 1860s, the demand for
beaver
pelts had declined and the large scale commercial trapping came
to an
end.
Female Fur Traders 1670-1930
In essence the history of the early
Canadian
West is the history of the fur trade. For nearly 200 years, from
the
founding
of the Hudson's Bay Company until the transfer of Rupert's land
to the
newly created dominion of Canada in 1970, the fur trade was the
dominant
force in shaping the history of what are today Canada's four
western
provinces.
This long and unified experience gave
rise
in Western Canada to a frontier society that seems to have been
unique
in the realm of interracial contact. Canada's western history
has been
characterized by relatively little violent conflict between
Indian and
non-indians. Two major reasons have been suggested why this was
so.
First,
by its very nature, the Canadian fur trade was predicted on a
mutual
exchange
and dependency between Indian and non-indians. The Indian not
only
trapped
the fur pelts but also provided the market for European goods.
Until
very
recently, the fur trade has been viewed as an all-male affair,
but new
research has revealed that Indian women played an active role in
promoting
this trade. Although the men were the hunters of beaver and
large game
animals, the women were responsible for trapping smaller
fur-bearing
animals,
especially the marten whose pelt was highly prized. The notable
emergence
of Indian women as diplomats and peacemakers also indicates that
they
were
anxious to maintain the flow of European goods such as kettles,
cloth,
knives, needles, and axes which helped to alleviate their
onerous work.
Marriage ÀLa Facon Du Pays
The second factor in promoting
harmonious
relations was the remarkably wide extent of intermarriage
between
incoming
traders and Indian women, especially among the Cree, the Ojibwa,
and
the
Chippewa. Indian wives proved indispensable helpmates to the
officers
and
men of both the British-based Hudson's Bay Company and its
Canadian
rival,
the North West Company. Such interracial unions were, in fact,
the
basis
for a fur trade society and were sanctioned by an indigenous
rite known
as marriage àla facon du pays—according to the custom of
the
country.
The development of marriage àla
facon
du pays underscores the complex and changing interaction between
traders
and the host Indian societies. In the initial phase of contact,
many
Indian
bands actively encouraged the formation of marital alliances
between
their
women and the traders. The Indians viewed marriage in an
integrated
social
and economic context; marital alliances created reciprocal
social ties,
which served to consolidate their economic relationships with
the
incoming
strangers. Thus, through marriage, many a trader was drawn into
the
Indian
kinship circle. In return for giving the traders sexual and
domestic
rights
to their women, the Indians expected reciprocal privileges such
as free
access to the posts and provisions.
As a result of this Indian attitude, it
was soon impressed upon the traders that marriage alliances were
an
important
means of ensuring good will and cementing trade relations with
new
bands
or tribes. The North West Company, a conglomerate of
partnerships which
began extensive trading in the West in the 1770s, had learned
from its
French predecessors of the benefits to be gained from
intermarriage and
officially sanctioned such unions for all ranks (from bourgeois
to
engagé).
The Hudson's Bay Company, on the other hand, was much slower to
appreciate
the realities of life in Rupert’s Land. Official policy
formulated in
faraway
London forbade any intimacy with Indians, but officers in the
field
early
began to break the rules. They took the lead in forming unions
with the
women of prominent Indian leaders, although there was great
variation
in
the extent to which the servants were allowed to form
connections with
Indian women.
Trader Intermarriages and Domestic Life
Apart from the public social benefits,
the
trader's desire to form unions with Indian women was increased
by the
absence
of white women. Although they did not come as squatters, many of
the
fur
traders spent the better part of their lives in Rupert's Land,
and it
is
a singular fact in the social development of the Canadian West
that for
well over a century there were no white women. The stability of
many of
the interracial unions formed in the Indian Country stemmed
partly from
the fact that the Indian women provided the only opportunity for
a
trader
to replicate a domestic life with wife and children.
Furthermore,
although
Indian mores differed from those of the non-indians, the traders
learned
that they trifled with Indian women at their peril. As one old
voyageur
explained, one could not just dally with any Indian woman who
struck
one's
fancy. There was a great danger of getting one's head broken if
a man
attempted
to take an Indian girl without her parents' consent.
It is significant that, just as in the
trade
ceremony, the rituals for marriage àla facon du pays
conforms
more
to Indian custom than to European. There were two basic steps to
forming
such a union. The first step was to secure the consent of the
woman's
relatives;
it also appears that the wishes of the woman herself were
respected, as
there is ample evidence that Indian women actively sought for
trade
wives.
Once consent was secured, a bride price had then to be decided;
this
varied
considerably among the tribes but could amount to several
hundred
dollars
worth of trade goods. After these transactions, the couple were
usually
conducted ceremoniously to the post where they were now
recognized as
husband
and wife. In the Canadian West, marriage àla facon du
pays
became
the norm for Indian-non-indian unions, being reinforced by
mutual
interest,
tradition, and peer group pressure. Although ultimately "the
custom of
the country" was to be strongly denounced by the missionaries,
it is
significant
that in 1867, when the legitimacy of the union between chief
factor
William
Connally and his Cree slave-wife was tried before a Canadian
court, it
was found to have constituted a lawful marriage. The judge
declared a
"valid"
marriage existed because the slave-wife had been married
according to
the
customs and usages of her own people and because the "consent"
of both
parties, the essential element of "civilized marriage," had been
proved
by 28 years of repute, public acknowledgement, and cohabitation
as
husband
and wife.
Indian Woman, Slave or Wife an Essential Economic Partner
If intermarriage brought the trader commercial and personal benefit, it also provided him with a essential economic partner. The Indian slave-wife possessed a range of skills and wilderness know-how that would have been quite foreign to a non-indian wife. Although the burdensome work role of the nomadic Indian woman was somewhat alleviated by the move to the fur-trade post, the extent to which the traders relied upon Amerindian technology kept the women busy.
Voyageurs' Wives Manufacture Moccasins and Snowshoes 1789
Perhaps the most important domestic
task
performed by the women at the fur-trade posts was to provide the
men
with
a steady supply of moccasins. The men of both companies
generally did
not
dress in buckskin as did the mountain men, but they universally
adopted
the moccasin as the most practical footwear for the wilderness.
One
wonders,
for example, how the famed 1789 expedition of Alexander
Mackenzie
(1764-1820)
would have fared without the work of the wives of his two
French-Canadian
voyageurs. The women scarcely ever left the canoes, being
"continuously
employed making shoes of moose skin as a pair does not last us
above
one
day."
Closely related to the manufacture of
moccasins
was the Indian slave-wife's role in making snowshoes, without
which
winter
travel was impossible. Although the men usually made the frames,
the
women
prepared the sinews and netted the intricate webbing which
provided
support.
Voyageurs' Wives Preserve Tons of Buffalo Pemmican
Indian women also made a vital contribution in the preservation of food, especially the manufacture of the all-important pemmican, the nutritious staple of the North West Company's canoe brigades. At the posts on the Great Plains, buffalo hunting and pemmican making formed an essential part of the yearly routine, each post being required to furnish an annual quota. In accordance with Indian custom, once the hunt was over the women's work began. The women skinned the animals and cut the meat into thin strips to be dried in the sun or over a slow fire. When the meat was dry, the women pounded it into a thick flaky mass, which was then mixed with melted buffalo fat. This pemmican would keep very well when packed into 90-pound buffalo-hide sacks, which had been made by the women during the winter.
Indian Women Hunters Keep Winter Post, Traders Alive
But pemmican was too precious a
commodity
to form the basic food at the posts themselves. At the more
northerly
posts,
the people subsisted mainly on fish, vast quantities of which
were
split
and dried by the women to provide food for the winter.
Maintaining
adequate
food supplies for a post for the winter was a precarious
business, and
numerous instances can be cited of Indian slave-wives keeping
the fur
traders
alive by their ability to snare small game such as rabbits and
partridges.
In 1815, for example, the young Nor’Wester George Nelson would
probably
have starved to death when provisions ran out at his small
outpost
north
of Lake Superior had it not been for the resourcefulness of his
Ojibwa
slave-wife who, during the month of February, brought in 58
rabbits and
34 partridges.
In 1989, Rosalind Miles wrote that an
18th
Century trader of the Hudson's Bay Company in Canada discovered
an
Eskimo
woman
who had kept herself alive for seven months on the mid-winter ice-cap by her own hunting and snaring "when there was nothing but desolation for 1,000 miles around."
Indian women also added to the diet by collecting berries and wild rice and making maple sugar. The spring trip to the sugar bush provided a welcome release from the monotony of the winter routine, and the men, with their families and Indian relatives, all enjoyed this annual event.
Indian Women Assist in Canoe Building
As in other preindustrial societies, the Indian women's role extended well beyond domestic maintenance as they assisted in specific fur-trade operations. With the adoption of the birch-bark canoe, especially by the North West Company, Indian women continued in their traditional role of helping in its manufacture. It was the women's job to collect annual quotas of spruce roots, which were split fine to sew the seams of the canoes, and also to collect the spruce gum, which was used for caulking the seams. The inexperienced and undermanned Hudson's Bay Company also found itself calling upon the labor power of Indian women, who were adept at paddling and steering canoes. Indeed, although the inland explorations of various Hudson's Bay Company men such as Anthony Henday and Samuel Herne have been glorified as individual exploits, they were, in fact, entirely dependent upon the Indians with whom they traveled, especially the women. "Women," marveled one inlander, "were as useful as men upon journeys." Henday's journey to the Great Plains in 1754, for example, owned much of its success to his Cree slave-wife who provided him with much timely advice about the plans of the Indians, in addition to a warm winter suit of furs. The Hudson's Bay Company men emphasized to their London superiors the value of the Indian women's skill at working with fur pelts. In short, they argued that the economic services performed by Indian women at the fur-trade posts were of such importance that they should be considered as "your honors servants." Indian women were indeed an integral part of the fur-trade labor force, although, like most women, because their labor was largely unpaid, their contribution has been ignored.
Indian Women's Role in Fur-Trade Society 1820
The reliance on Indian womens skills remained an important aspect of fur-trade life, even through by the early 19th century there was a notable shift in the social dynamics of fur-trade society. By this time, partly because of the destructive competition between rival companies which had flooded the Indian Country with alcohol, relations between many Indian bands and the traders deteriorated. In some well-established areas, traders sometimes resorted to coercive measures, and in some cases their abuse of Indian women became a source of conflict. In this context, except in new areas such as the Pacific Slope, marriage alliances ceased to play the important function they once had.
The Emerging Role of Mixed-Bloods in Fur-Trade Society
The decline of Indian-non-indian marriages was also hastened by the fact that fur-trade society itself was producing a new pool of marriageable young women—the mixed-blood "daughters of the country." With her duel heritage, the mixed-blood woman possessed the ideal qualifications for a fur trader's slave-wife; acclimatized to life in the West and familiar with Indian ways, she could also adapt successfully to non-indian culture. With their Indian mothers, mixed-blood girls learned the native skills so necessary to the functioning of the trade. As Sir George Simpson, governor of the Hudson's Bay Company emphasized in the 1820s: "It is the duty of the women at the different posts to do all that is necessary in regard to needle work," and the mixed-blood womens beautiful beadwork was highly prized. In addition to performing traditional Indian tasks, the woman's range of domestic work increased in more non-indian ways. They were responsible for the fort's washing and cleaning; "the dames" at York Factory, for example, were kept "in suds, scrubbing and scouring," according to one account. As subsistence agriculture was developed around many of the posts, the Indian women took an active role in planting and harvesting. Chief factor John Rowland of Fort Edmonton succinctly summarized the economic role of Indian women in the fur trade when he wrote in the mid-19th Century:
The women here work very hard, if it was not so, I do not know how we would get on with the company work.
With her ties to the indigenous population and familiarity with native customs and language, the mixed-blood slave-wife was also in a position to take over the role of intermediary or liaison previously played by the Indian slave-wife. The daughters of the French-Canadian voyageurs were often excellent interpreters: some could speak several Amerindian languages. The timely intervention of more than one mixed-blood slave-wife saved the life of her spouse who had aroused Indian hostility. Indeed, in his account of fur-trade life during the Hudson's Bay Company's monopoly after 1821, Isaac Cowie declared that many of the company's officers owned much of their success in overcoming difficulties and in maintaining the company's influence over the indigenous people to "the wisdom and good counsel of their wives."
Marriage ÀLa Facon Du Pays With Full-Blood Indian Women Prohibited 1806
In spite of the importance of native
connections,
many fur-trade fathers wanted to introduce their mixed-blood
Daughters
to the rudiments of non-indian culture. Since the place of work
and
home
coincided, especially in the long winter months, the traders
were able
to take an active role in their children's upbringing and they
were
encouraged
by company officials to do so. When the beginnings of formal
schooling
were introduced at the posts on the Bay in the early 1800s, it
was
partly
because it was felt to be essential to girls, who were very
seldom sent
overseas, should be given a basic education which would
inculcate them
with "Christian virtue." Increasingly, fathers promoted the
marriage of
their daughters to incoming traders, as the means to securing
their
place
in fur-trade society. In a significant change of policy in 1806,
the
North
West Company acknowledged some responsibility for the fate of
its
"daughters"
when it sanctioned marriage àla facon du pays with
daughters of
non-indians, but now prohibited it with full-blood Indian women.
As mixed-blood slave-wives became "the
vogue"
it is notable that "the custom of the country" began to evolve
more
toward
non-indian concepts of marriage. Most importantly, such unions
were
coming
to be regarded as unions for life. When Hudson's Bay Company
officer J.
E. Harriott espoused Elizabeth Purden, for example, he promised
her
father,
a senior officer, that he would "live with her and treat her as
my wife
as long as we both lived." It became customary for a couple to
exchange
brief vows before the officer in charge of the post, and the
match was
further celebrated by a dram of liquor to all hands and a
wedding dance.
Marriage Contracts Introduced 1821
The bride price was replaced by the opposite
payment
of a dowry, and many fur-trade officers were able to dower their
daughters
quite handsomely. Marriage àla facon du pays was further
regulated
by the Hudson's Bay Company after 1821 with the introduction of
marriage
contracts, which emphasized the spouse's financial obligations
and the
status of the woman as a legitimate slave-wife.
The social role of the mixed-blood
slave-wife,
unlike that of the Indian slave-wife, served to cement ties
within
fur-trade
society itself. Significantly, in the North West Company, many
marriages
cut across class lines, as numerous Scottish bourgeois chose
their
wives
among the daughters of the French-Canadian engageés who
had
married
extensively among the indigenous population. Among the Hudson's
Bay
company
men, it was appreciated that a useful way to enhance one's
career was
to
marry the daughter of a senior officer. Whatever a man’s initial
motivation,
the substantial private fur-trade correspondence which had
survived
from
the 19th century reveals that many fur traders became devoted
family
men.
Family could be a source of interest and consolation in a life
that was
often hard and monotonous. As chief factor James Douglas
pointedly
summed
it up:
There is indeed no living with comfort in this country until a person has forgot the great world and has his tastes and character formed on the current standard of the stage... habit makes it familiar to us; softened as it is by the many tender ties which find a way to the heart.
Missionaries Declare Marriage ÀLa
Facon
Du Pays
"Immoral and Debased" And Promote Racism
1820
However, the founding in 1811 of the
Selkirk
Colony, the first agrarian settlement in western Canada, was to
introduce
new elements of non-indian "civilization" that would hasten the
decline
of the indigenous fur-trade society. The chief agents of these
changes
were the missionaries and white women.
The missionaries, especially the
anglicans
who arrived under the auspices of the Hudson's Bay Company in
1820,
roundly
denounced marriage àla facon du pays as being "immoral"
and
"debased."
But while they exerted considerable pressure on long cohabiting
couples
to accept a "church marriage," they were in no way champions of
miscegenation.
In fact, this attack upon fur-trade custom had a detrimental
effect
upon
the position of Indian women. Incoming traders, now feeling free
to
ignore
the marital obligations implicit in the "custom of the country,"
increasingly
looked upon Indian women as objects for temporary sexual
gratification.
The women, on the other hand, found themselves being judged
according
to
strict British standards of female propriety. It was they, not
the
non-indians,
who were to be held responsible for the "perpetuation of
immorality"
because
of their supposedly "promiscuous Indian heritage." The double
standard,
tinged with racism, had arrived with a vengeance!
Arrival of British Women Augments Racial
Prejudice and Class Distinctions 1830
Racial prejudice and class distinction were augmented by the arrival of British women in Rupert's Land. The old fabric of fur-trade society was severely rent in 1830 when Simpson and another prominent Hudson's Bay Company officer returned from furlough, having wed genteel British ladies. The appearance of such "flowers of civilization" provoked unflattering comparisons with Indian women; as one officer observed, "this influx of white faces has cast a still deeper shade over the faces of our brunettes in the eyes of many." In Red River especially, a non-indian wife became a "status symbol;" witness the speed with which several retired Hudson"s Bay Company factors married the English schoolmistresses after the demise of their Indian slave-wife. To their credit, many company officers remained loyal to their Indian families, but they became painfully anxious to turn their daughters into Victorian ladies, hoping that with accomplishments and connections, the "stigma" of their mixed-blood would not prevent them from remaining among the "social elite." Thus in the 1830s, a boarding school was established in Red River for the female children of company officers; the girls' education was supervised by the missionary's wife, and more than one graduate was praised for being "quite English in her manner." In numerous cases, these highly acculturated young women were able to secure advantageous matches with incoming white men, but to some extent this was only because white women did not in fact make a successful adaptation to fur-trade life. It had been predicted that "the lovely, tender exotics" would languish in the harsh fur-trade environment, and indeed they did, partly because they had no useful social or economic role to play.
Indian and Mixed-Blood Females Shoved Aside 1870
As a result, mixed marriages continued to be a feature of Western Canadian society until well into the mid-19th Century, but it was not an enduring legacy. Indian and mixed-blood women, like their male counterparts, were quickly shunted aside with the development of the agrarian frontier after 1870. The vital role Indian women had played in the opening of the Canadian West was either demeaned or forgotten.
Chapter 4: The Missionaries
The Americans, however, were coming, but through a circumstance that initially had no connection with Oregon whatsoever. In the years 1824-1836 there occurred in the Eastern US a "born again," evangelical movement, which placed great emphasis on missionary work. In 1831 for Nez Percé tribesmen journeyed to Saint Louis seeking knowledge, it was said, of Christianity. Thus was kindled that fire of evangelism that would bring, in numbers, the first Americans to Oregon:
Let two suitable men, unencumbered with families, and possessing the spirit of martyrs throw themselves into the nation (the natives of Oregon). Live with them—learn their language—preach Christ to them and, as the way opens, introduce schools, agriculture, and the arts of civilized life.
So proclaimed the great Methodist divine Wilbur Fisk (1792-1839) in 1833.
His call was answered the following
year
by a 31-year-old Methodist, Jason Lee (1803-1845), a dedicated
evangelist
ready to suffer all hardships to save the indigenous peoples of
Oregon
from damnation. Two years later, in 1836, four missionaries,
Narcissa
and
Marcus Whitman (1802-1847) and Eliza and Henry Spalding
(c1801-1874),
sponsored
by the Congregational, Presbyterian and Dutch Reformed churches,
departed
for Oregon—like Lee with trapping parties. Both groups were
treated
kindly
by JohnMcLoughlin and given sound advice on where best to
establish
their
respective missions. Lee and his associates settled near Salem
while
the
Whitmans and Spaldings began their work in the vicinity of Walla
Walla
and Lewiston. Over the next decade these mission stations not
only
gained
in population due to periodic reinforcements from the East, they
also
created
substations—the Methodists at The Dalles of the Columbia, Oregon
City
and
Clatsop Plains, and the Whitman-Spalding group at Spokane. In
other
words,
by the early 1840s, the American missionaries had established
seven
settlements
in the Oregon Country.
This major contribution to the
settlement
of Oregon by the American missionaries is beyond dispute. Their
success
in Christianizing and civilizing the Indians of Oregon is
another
matter,
a tale of basically good intentions frustrated at every turn.
In the first place the missionaries
were
distracted by their own internal difficulties: frequent
squabbling
among
themselves, little understanding from their distant headquarters
in the
East, and finally the necessity of devoting much of their time
providing
for their own needs, thus leaving little energy for the
instruction of
the native population.
Pretend to Love Thy Neighbor—While Abhorring Him!
It was, however, their problems with the natives themselves that were insurmountable. Many of the latter were to some degree migratory, so sustained instruction at the mission sites was often difficult. Far more distressing was the fact that the missionaries were obliged to love a people whose habits they abhorred—gambling, drinking, stealing, "irregular" sexual conduct, the near nakedness, and an almost total indifference to cleanliness, bodily or otherwise. Worse, the missionaries were signally unsuccessful in convincing the Indians that in practicing these habits they were sinning.
"God is Stingy"
If the missionaries had problems with the Indians, so too did the Indians have problems with the missionaries. In the beginning the missionaries were a novelty, but the novelty rather soon wore off. In the beginning also, the missionaries had been distributors of material rewards, but these soon dwindled, provoking one Cayuse to complain that "God is stingy." Baptism, as far as the Indians could see, had not improved their prowess in the hunt, in war or in love. The missionaries' continued descriptions of the torments of hell both puzzled and depressed them. Soon, too, doubts developed as to the divine origins of the missionaries' message. A Walla Walla Chief questioned:
Where are these laws from? Are they from God or from the earth?... I think they are from the earth, because, from what I know of white men, they do not honor these laws.
Finally, Indians had reason to question one of churchianity's cardinal tenets. In 1839 two Catholic priests, fathers Blanchet and Demers, arrived in Oregon evangelizing in competition with the Protestants. The antagonism that flared between the two religious bodies was fierce and often waspish, none of which deterred these “men of God” from haranguing the indigenous peoples on the absolute necessity of “brotherly love.”
Missionaries Poison Natives' Dogs
It took no more than a decade for the
protestant
missionary effort to founder. In 1844, Jason Lee was removed
from his
post,
while in the following year the Methodist annual report
confessed that,
"The hopes of the mission for the future depend primarily upon
the
success
of the Gospel among the immigrants." As for the Whitmans and
Spaldings,
in November 1847 the Cayuse, convinced that Dr. Whitman was
purposely
infecting
them with smallpox, slaughtered him, his wife, and 12 of their
associates.
Though failing in their mission to
Christianize
and civilize the Indians, the missionaries nonetheless had a
profound
effect.
For one thing they established schools, which became colleges,
such as
Willamette, Pacific, Linfield, and Lewis and Clark (formerly
Albany
College),
which continue after nearly a century and a half to enrich the
state.
Also,
by reason of their letters and reports concerning the virtues of
the
Oregon
Country, they encouraged immigration. Finally, they planted the
seed in
1838 that was to bear fruit with statehood. This was a memorial
carried
by Lee to Washington asking Congress to establish its
jurisdiction over
the Oregon Country. "We flatter ourselves we are germ of a great
state."
Jesuits Establish Saint Paul 1836
French Prairie was know to Jesuit
missionaries
long before the coming of the Methodists in 1834. Most of the
French-Canadians
employed by the Hudson's Bay Company were of the Roman Catholic
faith,
as was the company's chief factor; and religious instruction in
the
little
school at Fort Vancouver was in accordance with the tenets of
that
faith.
The first church within the present
limits
of Oregon was a log structure erected by Roman Catholics at
Saint Paul
in 1836, although mass was not celebrated there until three
years later.
Jason Lee 1803-1845
Students of Pacific Northwest history
know
the story of the Rev. Jason Lee's immediate response to the
first call
for Indian missionaries in the Pacific Northwest.
Born at Stanstead, Canada, June 28,
1803,
Lee was left fatherless at three and sent to live with the
children of
his brother Elias Lee, 21 years his senior. One nephew was
Daniel, only
three years younger than himself, the two growing up together
and
remaining
very close, Daniel later joining Jason in the trip to Oregon.
The
British-American
war upset the Lees' lives and Jason found himself on his own at
age 13.
An item in his diary reads, "I was thrown upon the world without
money
to provide for all my wants except by my own industry."
Fortunately he went to school for a
short
time, later referring to the little Stanstead School as the
place where
"our gentle youth was cherished." After working at manual labor
for a
time
he was converted by fiery-speaking Rev. Richard Pope. He worked
three
more
years and in 1829 registered at Wilbraham Collegiate Institute
in
Massachusetts
in 1828 and was under the tutelage of the great Methodist
divine, Dr.
Wilbur
Fisk. Although Lee bypassed the Nez Percé, who were later
awarded
to the Presbyterians, the American Board of Commissioners for
Foreign
Missions
sent the Rev. Samuel Parker to make a reconnaissance of that
mission
field
in 1835.
Lee's Eyes Were "Spiritualistic Blue"
Of imposing height, about six feet
three
inches, he was "slightly stooping" according to one description,
and
somewhat
awkward in movement. His complexion was light, features sharply
chiseled
with nose prominent, jaws massive and lips kept tightly closed.
One
account
refers to his eyes as "spiritualistic blue," forehead high and
receding,
long hair pushed back. The impression is of an austere, cold and
loveless
man, yet he was to write the guardian of his small daughter,
from whom
he was separated at the time, "Please tell little Lucy Ann how
much her
papa loves her, and how he longs to kiss her."
After ordination in 1833 Jason and
Daniel
left inspired to establish a mission in far off Oregon to
convert the
"Flatheads."
The two arranged to accompany Nathaniel J. Wyeth who was about
to start
on his second expedition to Oregon. Big-hearted Wyeth even made
provision
for the missionaries' personal belongings and mission supplies
in the
hold
of his brig May Dacre. The vessel set sail for Oregon by way of
Cape
Horn
from Boston in January 1834, cargo including farm implements,
garden
seed
and live chickens.
Lee Preached First Funeral in Rockies 1833
The land party assembled at Independence, Missouri and left for Oregon. In his diary Lee noted some vivid descriptions of the journey, writing of the boundless prairies, of how trails were crossed and recrossed by tracks of countless thousands of buffalo, about which George W. Riddle, pioneer of 1851, wrote:
...In 1851, there were countless thousands [of buffalo] along Platte River. At times emigrant trains were in great danger if caught in the route of a stampeding buffalo herd. Loose cattle, if enveloped in this rush, would be carried away... When the bison reached our side they were about a quarter of a mile in front—great masses of them—a hundred or more yards wide and miles long. They were several hours in passing, and were moving at a brisk gait, but not stampeding... no attempt was made to kill any of them; in fact it might have endangered the train. The buffalo are said to follow their leaders when on the move, but when stampeded will crowd into such irresistible masses that many of them are trampled to death... Indians of long ago had a plan for capturing buffalo by directing a stampede to a precipice. The leaders, by pressure, were forced over and others would follow to their destruction by the thousands...
In the Rockies the men met Cpt. Thomas McKay's Hudson's Bay Brigade, the Indians with it staging a horse race, two of the mounts colliding and killing one rider named Kamseau. Young Lee preached the funeral service, first to be held in the Rocky Mountains.
Lee Meets McLoughlin at Fort Vancouver
At Walla Walla the party stayed with
factor
Pierre Pambrun who helped get Lee's ten horses, four mules, and
three
cows
down the Columbia River to Fort Vancouver. There begun a long
and
unbroken
friendship between Jason Lee and John McLoughlin. The warm
welcome and
spectacularly coincidental arrival of the supply ship seemed
almost to
guarantee the success of the projected Walamet Mission.
McLoughlin provided the mission party
with
canoes for the trip to the Willamette, and upstream as far as
the farm
of Thomas McKay who was McLoughlin's stepson.
Historian Robert H. Ruby and John A.
Brown
discuss the McKays:
Chinook half-bloods William Cameron, Thomas, and Alexander McKay, sons of Astorian Thomas McKay and their Chinook mother Timee, had been en route east in a fur company brigade when they left it to join Lee's party. (The lads had been cared for by Dr. John McLoughlin, whom they called their grandfather because of his marriage to [Marguerite], the widow of Alexander McKay, who had been killed on the Tonquin). William McKay was to have left for Scotland to study medicine. His brothers were to have remained in the East. They had, however, been persuaded by missionary Marcus Whitman to abandon the brigade in order to study in the US. As Whitman had offered to pay his education, William had entered Fairfield College in New York to study medicine. His brothers had entered a Methodist training school in Wilbraham, Massachusetts.
After a short rest there, the party moved on to French Prairie, then only dotted with a few rough log cabins of French-Canadian fur trappers and their Indian slave-wives and children. Farther on up the valley Lee found a site for his mission, about ten miles northwest of the present site of Salem on the east side of the Willamette River. Construction of log cabins began immediately.
Lee Establishes Walamet Mission at French Prairie Near Salem 1834
Food was a real problem that first
winter,
most of it consisting of unleavened cakes made of flour provided
by
McLoughlin,
peas grown by French Prairie squatters, salt pork from the May
Dacre
stores
and the luxury of a little milk from the cows driven across
plains and
mountains. Later more milk would be supplied by Ewing Young's
cattle
from
California, which included a bull or two, the missionaries' bull
being
on loan from McLoughlin. After shelters were completed the
mission
itself
was erected, 32 feet by 18 feet, story and a half high, from the
big
and
plentiful Oregon oaks, Quercus garryana, growing on the river
bottoms.
The logs were squared on one side to give the interior a
finished
appearance.
There were two rooms on the found floor with four windows,
chimney of
clay,
floor of "split planks," likely of cedar as were the roof
shakes. The
structure
was snug but built on the rich black-soiled bottom land, created
by
successive
floodings of the river. And another of its rampages carried away
every
log and shake so painfully put together. The only consolation
was, the
building had served its purpose in being the center of mission
life for
six years.
A new structure went up on higher
ground
and added to it was a school for local Indian children. Many
presented
themselves almost naked, perhaps wearing a fringe apron around
the
waist
or a piece of deerskin slung over the shoulder. All were
infested with
vermin, Lee personally scrubbing and delousing most of them.
Dr. Elijah P. White First Physician at Walamet Mission 1836
In July of 1836 the Hamilton sailed from Boston carrying the first reinforcements to the mission, including Dr. Elijah P. White, first physician to join the forces, and Anna Maria Pittman. The ship stopped at the Sandwich Islands, the party continuing to the Columbia River on another. It was met at Champoeg by a messenger requesting the doctor to hurry to the several sick at the mission.
First Christian Marriage in the Oregon Country 1836
On a bright Sunday morning in July
1836
Anna
Maria Pittman and Jason Lee were married in a grove of oaks near
the
river
bank. Attending the wedding party were 30 or 40 Indian children
and
groups
of French-Canadians, half-bloods and Indians. The wedding
service was
read
by Jason's nephew Daniel and it marked the first Christian
marriage in
the Oregon County, those at Fort Vancouver having been under
"civil
marriage
contract," witnessed by two persons and approved by John
McLoughlin.
Bride Anna Maria wrote her brother,
"George,
I hope you are as happy with your wife as I am with my husband."
But in
June of the next year she was to write no more as she died in
childbirth,
the first white woman casualty in the Pacific Northwest. Lee was
in the
East at the time on one of his many journeys to raise money for
the
mission.
On one such journey later he met Lucy
Thompson
and the August 14, 1839 issue of Zion's Herald carried a notice:
"Married—at
Barre, Vermont July 28, by Rev. E. J. Scott, presiding elder of
Montpelier
District, Rev. Jason Lee of Oregon Mission and Lucy Thompson." A
student
at Newbury Seminary for two years and valedictorian of her
class, Lee's
new spouse wrote a letter to her half-brother, dated October 8,
informing
him
The long looked for day has arrived, our vessel is in the stream; we go aboard at half past nine tomorrow morning. We sail on the ship Lausanne, captain Spalding... My further acquaintance with reverend Lee proves him to be worthy of the confidence I imposed in him. He is one of the kindest, best of men... he is all an earthly friend can be.
On October 9, 1839 the New York Journal of Commerce reported:
The ship Lausanne has gone to sea, having on board a large Methodist expedition to the Oregon Country.
Cape Horn was rounded safely in spite of a delaying storm but the Straits of Magellan were not reached until early in February and Valparaiso, Chili, was found to be in the throes of a smallpox epidemic. Since it was necessary to replenish food and water supplies, crew of the Lausanne went ashore which frightened some of the missionaries-to-be. Lee remarked in his diary shrewdly
I have been watching the reinforcements in order to discover their traits of character... I am persuaded it is one thing to be a missionary on board the Lausanne, another to be a good one in Oregon.
The ship finally reached the Columbia River on May 21, 1840. Historians Robert H. Ruby and John A. Brown wrote that on May 21, 1840,
the Lausanne, Capt. Josiah Spalding, inched across the bar to anchor in Bakers Bay. Aboard was the “great reinforcement” of the missionary society of the Methodist Episcopal church arriving via the Hawaiian Islands from New York, which it had left in October the previous year. Aboard were some 51 persons, among whom were six ministers, four young women teachers, a physician, a cabinetmaker, a steward, and a number of farmers and mechanics and children. Leading the reinforcement was Jason Lee, who had helped recruit it in order to strengthen a mission of the church which he and his nephew, Daniel, had established one half dozen years earlier primarily in the Willamette Valley but which branch missions at The Dalles and Fort Hisqually. Also returning was an Indian lad, Thomas Adams, a Calapooya from the Willamette who had accompanied Lee East in 1838. Missing, however, was William Brooks (Stum-Manu), a Chinook youth who had also accompanied Lee to the East. Believed to have been born at Chinook village and orphaned possibly by the plague, William had been trained at the Willamette Valley Methodist Mission School, which he had entered in 1835. He had been an important member of Lee's team to promote his missions, acting in the capacity of what one writer had called a "Chinook publicist." William's younger brother, Ozro Morrill (Klytes), had also entered the school, as had his sister, Harriet Newell (Tapal). Death on the eastern tour, possibly a result of some tubucular infection, had denied William Brooks any further education.
Lucy Thompson Lee Dies 1842
Lucy Thompson Lee began to fail in health shortly after reaching the mission. Her spouse was gone much of the time, establishing branches at Wascopan, Oregon City and other outposts. About March 20, 1842 she gave birth to a daughter and about a month later, while standing next to her spouse at a Sunday service she collapsed. "One gasp, and it was all over," recorded historian Rev. Harvey K. Hines. He further remarks that when a few hours later
they laid away her remains by the side of his former companion, they laid away the casket that had borne one of the purest gems that ever blazed in the dark night of Oregon.
Jason Lee, his tiny daughter cradled in his arms, turned away from the grave, perhaps vowing never to marry again, for he never did.
Jason Lee Dies at Stanstead 1845
Death overtook him when he was only 41 years old, on March 12, 1845, in his old home and birthplace at Stanstead, Canada, a postmortem showing "diseased state of the lungs... the right lobe attached to the walls of the chest." He was buried in the little Stanstead Cemetery far from the wives he had buried in Oregon.
Josiah L. Parrish First Minister Ordained in Oregon 1860
Born in New York State, January 14,
1806,
Josiah L. Parrish was one of the dedicated pioneers who came
West to
reinforce
the original group founding Oregon's Methodist missions. His
wife,
Elizabeth
(?-1869; m. 1833), and three children came with him on the
Lausanne.
Parrish was licensed to preach before
leaving
the East and was the first Methodist minister ordained in
Oregon, the
ceremony
one of many "firsts" credited to the mission colony. With Joseph
Holman,
Parrish started breeding pure blooded sheep in Oregon from a
nucleus of
several Marino ewes and a buck in 1860. And he was said to have
obtained
and planted the first white clover seed.
The minister held many offices, one
being
acting Indian agent for the vast territory extending from
California to
the Canadian border. He was treasurer of the early Willamette
University
and in the 1860s donated a valuable parcel of land close to the
center
of Salem on which to build an asylum for orphans. A few years
later he
was elected president of Willamette University and then became
honorary
vice-president.
Rev. Parrish lived to be 90 years old
but
long before his death he took particular interest in prisoner
welfare
at
the state penitentiary at Salem. Often preaching at the prison,
he was
known affectionately by many inmates as "Father Parrish."
Parrish died
May 31, 1895.
Marcus Whitman and Henry Spalding 1936
In 1836, Dr. Marcus Whitman and Henry
Harmon
Spalding and their wives, Narcissa Prentiss (1808-1847) and
Eliza Hart,
arrived at the Rocky Mountain Company, and established their
missions
at
Waiilatpu ("the place of the rye grass") and Lapwai, two miles
away.
The
former station was in Cayuse country and the latter was in the
middle
of
the Nez Percé country.
At Lapwai and Spalding Missions, Eliza
taught
the Indian women to sew, weave, and knit
and to read "the white man's book of heaven" that she illustrated on charts six feet long and translated into Nez Percé. The Indians were kind to her, but it was a difficult life for the quiet, sickly Eliza, who missed her good friend Narcissa Whitman—away at Walla Walla, Washington—with whom she had shared the exciting trip as the first white women to cross the Rockies. The two arranged to have simultaneous prayer sessions every morning at 9am, to be together in spirit at least.
Like Lee, Spalding recognized that the
Christian
purpose would be achieved best if settled community life could
be
developed.
He also realized that non-indian expansion would raise havoc
with the
old
bison-hunting and salmon-fishing economy of the Indian. If the
Nez
Perceé
were to become Christian farmers their chance of survival in the
non-indian
world was good. To that end he served as both pastor and
foreman, and
in
both roles his bearing was austere. He and Eliza labored with
great
zeal,
and the Christianized Nez Percé became "the most advanced
Indians
in the arts of civilized life due to the Spaldings."
Many Indians attempted to become
"civilized"
according to non-indian formulas. They hoed the soil, planted
crops,
tended
livestock, and helped the missionaries erect a blacksmith shop
and
sawmills
and gristmills. By 1839 100 families were engaged in farming,
and a
second
mission station sponsored by the Spaldings was opened at Kamiah.
The Nez Percé were beginning to
be
split into Christian and heathen categories in terms of
attitudes
towards
liquor, gambling and polygamy, all of which Spalding abhorred.
There
was
a faction that also objected to farming.
Historian Merrill D. Beal wrote that
Lt.
C. A. Woodruff believed the Nez Percé' Christian teaching
prevented them from engaging in the awful barbarities that usually characterize Indian hostilities. The nontreaty, heathen warriors did not subscribe to this view; they attributed their conduct to the traditions and mores of the tribe. ...
Rivalry Between Faiths
Rivalry between Presbyterian and Roman
Catholic
missionaries was disturbing to the Indians. The Nez Percé
mastery
of theological tenets was impressive, and little trouble
developed
until
1846, when Indians from the East brought accounts of happenings
on
other
frontiers. Joe Lewis and Tom Hill, a Delaware, advised Northwest
Indians
to abandon churchianity and return to their tribal God. This
influence
played a part in the Whitman Massacre, on November 29, 1847. As
the
result,
the Spalding missions were suspended for 14 years, and were not
reopened
until 1862.
An act of Congress in 1869, parceled
out
the reservations to different Christian denominations, and under
that
law
the Nez Perceé were awarded to the Presbyterians.
Lee made two tours to the US in the
interest
of his missionary work in the Oregon Territory. The first was in
1833-1834
when he came with Nathaniel J. Wyeth of Boston who was planning
to
start
a salmon fishery and packing plant on the Columbia River, and
his
nephew,
Rev. Daniel Lee. That trip was followed four years later by his
second
visit in 1838-1839. He gave his life and power and success to
the
Oregon
movement.
The ambitious Methodist minister
organized
and brought to the coast a great reinforcement in 1840. He was
also
responsible
for the coming of the emigrants in 1842, who assisted
missionaries in
the
formation of a Provisional Government for the Oregon Territory.
According to Oregon historian Joseph
Gaston,
some of the "very good men" who were active in organizing the
Provisional
Government (1843-1848) were:
Reuben Allen, Bailey,—, Barnum,—, John Bearum, G. W. Bellamy, Vandeman Bennett, Winston Bennett, Thomas Boggs, Bridges,—, Gabriel Brown, James Brown, William Brown, Hugh Burns, Patrick Clark, A. N. Coats, James Coats, Nathan Coombs, Alexander Copeland, Medorem Crawford, Nathaniel Crocker, John Daubenbiss, Allen Davie, Samuel Davis, James Force, John Force, Foster,—, Joseph Gibbs, Girtman,—, W. Hastings,—, John Hofstetter, J. M. Hudspeth, Hardin Jones, Columbia Lancaster, Lansford,—, Amos L. Lovejoy, J. L. Morrison, Sidney Walter Moss (1810-1901), Alexander McKay, John McKay, Dutch Paul, J. H. Perry, Dwight Pomeroy, Walter Pomeroy, J. R. Robb, T. J. Shadden,—, A. D. Smith, Andrew Smith, Darling Smith, Owen Sumner, A. Towner, Joel Turnham, David Weston, and Dr. Elijah White.
Lee was a man of great executive
ability,
force of character, tact, energy, and adaptation to the work to
which
he
had consecrated his life. His eloquence in speech attracted the
attention
of the people and won their hearts, whenever and wherever he
appeared
to
them, and gave marvelous success to his efforts on behalf of the
Oregon
Territory.
At the beginning, the mission embraced
a
number of buildings. These houses formed the nucleus of the
first
permanent
American settlement in the Oregon Territory.
The mission house was 20 square feet in
size, with walls 12 feet thick and side additions for carpenter
and
blacksmith
shops. It was built of logs about ten to 12 inches in diameter,
faced
on
the inside with a broad ax in the hands of Lee. The walls were
chinked
on the outside with clay and small pieces of lumber. The roof
was white
fir clap-board. There were two windows, and two in the upper
half-story,
one in each gable.
A partition divided the two floors into
two rooms, the larger one 20 square feet. The smaller room was
ten by
20
feet. The partitions and floors were of whip-sawed lumber.
The center of the lower partition was
occupied
by a double fireplace. The doors were of whip-sawed plank, with
wooden
hinges and latches. The windows were made of 12 panes of glass,
each
pane
eight by ten inches in size. The furniture was of a primitive
design
and
pattern, and consisted of benches, stools and tables. A
Christian bible
lay on the table, and a copy of the Declaration of Independence
hung
over
the fireplace.
Here, Cyrus Sheppard indoctrinated the
Indians
with non-indian religion and culture, and here the children of
the
missionaries
received instruction. Regular and daily religious worship was
also
observed
here, as well as special revival services for Indian youths,
mountaineers
and settlers. These revivals resulted in many conversions.
Merrill D. Beal, a conservative and
traditional
historian, wrote that mountain men noticed that the Nez
Percé
were strongly "religious." In fact, the trappers thought that what they learned abut the Nez Percé beliefs, legends, and practices bore a close relationship to Christianity. The Indians in turn discovered that the white man’s religion was interesting, and, since trappers were such masterful men, it seems logical that the Nez Percé would seek more philosophical knowledge than they could get from that source.
It was in this building that the first
meetings
were held looking to the establishment of the Provisional
Government.
In 1851, Ewing Young, who became one of
the wealthiest squatters, died without an heir. His lands,
buildings
and
stocks were left unclaimed. Now in place of the social and
religious
meetings
the squatters were accustomed to having, they gathered to
appoint and
executor
of his estate. At the same time another kind of meeting was
called to
cope
with losses of livestock from wolves and other predatory
animals—specifically
losses of cattle and horses running wild on the Young place
after his
death.
The farmers met again and levied an
assessment
of $5 million on each to pay bounty for carcasses of marauding
wolves,
mountain lions, lynx or bear, on February 2, 1843. This meeting
was
termed
a "Wolf Meeting," and the phrase was applied to future meetings.
The Americans, now equal in number to
those
of foreign origin, were in some ferment over fear of British
control,
and
it was agreed by everyone in the settlement that a local
government of
some kind was needed. A committee of 12 was appointed to "take
into
consideration
the propriety for taking measure for civil and military
protection of
this
colony."
Within a few days, the committee met at
Willamette Falls and arranged for a general gathering on May 2,
1843,
to
vote on the situation. That meeting was the turning point of the
Oregon
Territory. It resulted in a peaceful decision that the vast
territory
should
be under the control of the US rather than Great Britain.
The meeting at Champoeg was called to
order
in the corner of the warehouse, which was used as an office by
the
Hudson's
Bay Company. The first resolutions, calling for organization
into a
self-governing
body, generated so much excitement and confusion in the confined
quarters
that many voters went unheard. Many people who voted did so
improperly.
Some even voted for the opposing side! The whole gathering was
moved
outside
to the middle of the field. There, the situation improved, but a
voice
vote proved hopeless.
A fur trapper by the name of Joseph L.
Meek
raised his penetrating voice against the uproar and urged men to
“side
up” in the field, and declared he would start things by taking
the
American
side. French-Canandian George W. Le Breton made the formal
motion that
this be done. American William H. Gray seconded the motion. Meek
stepped
out and called on all those present who wanted an American
government
established
to gather around him. There were 102 voters present, none of
them women
or Indians. Forty-nine non-indians were on the American side.
Including
Meek, there were 50 in all. Fifty men remained where they were.
Etienne
Lucier and Francois Xavier Matthieu stood in the middle,
hesitating to
choose either side. Everyone waited impatiently for them to make
up
their
minds in the matter. Lucier was afraid that under American rule
he
would
be heavily taxed. Matthieu owned much land and property in
nearby
Butteville
where he was surrounded by American sympathizers. He decided to
go with
them, and persuaded Lucier to do the same. They joined Meek's
side and
swayed the vote, 52 to 50 in favor of the Americans. The Oregon
Country
was safe under the flag of the US.
The work of the committee was ratified,
a code of laws was adopted, and officers were elected on July 5,
1843.
At subsequent meetings, most of the
propositions
advanced by the Americans were rejected by the Canadian
sympathizers.
However,
in the autumn of 1843, when 873 immigrants arrived over the
Oregon
Trail,
it was apparent that Oregon was to be American and the Canadians
reconciled
and voiced no further opposition.
Narcissa and Marcus Whitman
No sooner had Lewis and Clark
completed
their
historic crossing than others followed them into the Far West.
On the
return
trip the explorers encountered two lone men in the vicinity of
Yellowstone,
the reckless vanguard of hundreds of mountain men who were to
explore
the
vast area over the next decades.
The next 30 years these mountain men
scoured
the Western mountains for beaver, trapping every likely river
and
stream
for pelt. An incredible lot, enduring all manner of hardships
and
danger,
they fought and drank hard, and they left their names on the
Western
land.
Some lived with the Indians and adapted totally to their ways;
many
died
in the unending skirmishes between Indian tribes. It was a wild
life,
culminating
each year in a rendezvous held in a chosen mountain valley where
"Taos
lightening" fueled bloody fights and general hell-raising. This
was a
strictly
male era, the only women occasionally present being those Indian
slave-wives
who most of the time were left with their tribes while the
mountain men
each year pushed farther and farther West in the pursuit of the
valuable
furs.
There in 1836 the era ended, its
closing
marked by the passing of the beaver into near-extinction as the
meager
catch of that year made plain. So heavily had the animal been
trapped
that
the enterprise was no longer economically worthwhile. But the
end was
marked
that year in an even more dramatic way. At the annual rendezvous
on the
Green River arrived a party of missionaries and their wives
bound for
Oregon
Territory. The age of settlement was opening and the wild free
days
would
soon draw to a close.
There was undoubtedly some
consternation
among the mountain men as they beheld white women entering upon
the
Western
scene. White women meant settlements and civilization which over
the
long
course of time would change the face of the country. The
settlements
would
become towns with governments and laws and regulations—none of
which
were
much esteemed by the mountain men. The more astute among them
must have
realized that the two white women in the missionary party marked
the
end
of their way of life.
The women in the party, Narcissa
Prentiss
Whitman and Eliza Hart Spalding, did not see themselves as
squatters
but
as those bringing the word of salvation to the "heathen savage."
Annie Besant (1847-1933) addresses the
Quixotic
Victorian:
Take again, glancing over history, the fashion in which Christian nations have ever dealt with savage tribes. Charlemagne (742-814) Christianized the Saxons with fire and sword, breaking them into the obedience of the church. The Spaniards Christianized the Peruvians in similar fashion, turning the happy flowery land of the sun into a slave-filled shambles. The English have Christianized Indians and Africans, Maories (Philippinos) and Australians, in good old historic manner of murder and fraud and theft. Look where we will at the treatment experienced by the savage at Christian hands, and we find ever the same old story—cruelty that sickens, treachery that disgusts, brutality that appalls.
They viewed themselves as bound to a distant
foreign
land, as exotic a destination as that of their counterparts en
route to
Africa or the Sandwich Islands.
Marilla M. Ricker (1840-1920),
distinguished
attorney and free thought missionary, wrote that the business of
trading
in slaves
was not immoral by the estimate of public opinion in colonial times. A deacon of the church in Newport esteemed the slave trade, with its rum accessories, as "home missionary work." It is said that on the first Sunday after the arrival of his slaves he was accustomed to offer thanks that an overruling providence had been pleased to bring to this “land of freedom” another cargo of benighted heathen to enjoy the blessings of a Gospel dispensation.
The real meaning of their venture was to
remain
hidden from them. In Narcissa Whitman's case this inability to
understand
and face reality was to contribute greatly to the tragedy that
lay
ahead
for her.
She was quintessentially the 19th
century
"gently reared" white woman. Although encumbered with some of
the more
constricting views of the age, at the same time she harbored an
independence
of spirit and resoluteness, that might in a later time have made
her a
suffragist or abolitionist. Whatever she might have been in a
later
age,
she was most certainly unsuited to be a missionary to the
Indians. How
she came to this place in 1836 tells a great deal about the
culture of
the time as it applied to women like her.
Narcissa was born in 1808 in New York
State,
living first in Prattsburg and then in the town of Amity where
her
family
moved when she was a young woman. Her father, Judge Stephen
Prentiss,
was
well-to-do by small town standards and the Prentisses were
pillars of
the
Presbyterian church, their family and social life entirely
church-centered.
In a day of limited communications and cultural isolation,
Narcissa's
entire
existence turned upon the church. She sang in the choir, read
religious
tomes and seemed to focus her whole intellectual and emotionally
life
upon
religion. These were the years of the great awakening, the
spiritual
revival
in protestantism that spawned an emotional evangelism of intense
energy.
Like many young people, Narcissa "wrestled with her soul" and
achieved
"conversion."
She was a bright woman, and she seems
to
have been the pet of her parents in a family of nine. She was
also,
through
her blonde good looks, lively spirit and beautiful singing
voice,
something
of a star in the small town firmament of Amity. But the choices
of the
time for a woman of energy, intelligence and education were
indeed few;
for Narcissa there was only one. When she was 16 years old she
decided
to be a missionary.
Twelve years later when she actually
made
application to the American Missionary Board she would recall
the
moment
of decision clearly.
I frequently desired to go to the heathen but only halfheartedly and it was not until the first Monday of January 1824 that I felt to consecrate myself without reserve to the missionary work awaiting the leading of providence concerning me.
It has been suggested by Narcissa's
most
perceptive biographer that she was brought to this decision by
the
great
religious wave and romanticism of the period concerning Indians
and
missionary
work. But another reason for her yearning cannot be overlooked.
For a
woman
of verve and talent as well as woefully limited choices, how
appealing
it must have been to dream of the adventure of a journey to a
new land.
How dramatic to cast oneself in the role of savior of the
unenlightened
savage.
There was in Narcissa a streak of
individualism
that made her out of step with the early 19th century concept of
women.
Yet at the same time she shared many of the concepts of her
time,
particularly
the superiority of the educated non-indians. These two factors
guided
her
into her fateful decision and taken together virtually insured
that her
chosen goal would end in disaster.
As limited as her choices were, even
that
of missionary seemed to be closed to her for a while. When her
application
for missionary work was received by the board it was set aside.
They
would
not send an unmarried woman into the field.
Shortly thereafter Marcus Whitman, a
young
doctor who had always wanted to be a minister, won the approval
of the
board for work in the Oregon Territory. Word had come East
reportedly
from
the territorial governor, William Clark, of the desire of the
Nez
Perceé
Indians for the white man's God and the white man's "book."
Actually
what
had prompted the Nez Perceé to make the long and
dangerous
journey
to Saint Louis was not desire for the Christian religion but for
the
white
people's "magic" which they attributed to non-indian religion.
It was
the
power of the guns and gunpowder—not Bibles and salvation—that
truly
interested
the Indians. To the missionary-minded, however, this was a
missionary
call
not to be ignored.
Marcus Whitman's First Trip to Oregon
While both Whitman's and Prentiss's
applications
were still before the board, Whitman had come to Amity and an
"arrangement"
regarding his marriage to Prentiss was made. It is not known
whether
Whitman
specifically came with the idea of securing a helpmate or
whether the
idea
of marriage developed upon his meeting Prentiss. In any event,
they
decided
to marry and Prentiss thereby qualified for the career she had
chosen.
It was a business-like arrangement typical of 19th Century
American.
Then Whitman decided to make the trip
to
Oregon on a trial basis without Narcissa. Apparently she
strongly urged
otherwise, but Whitman, always a very stubborn man, held to his
view of
the fragility of women. Both marriage and Narcissa's missionary
work
would
have to await his return and his decision as to whether it was
feasible
for Narcissa to make a journey that no white woman had made
before.
As it turned out he did not explore the
whole route but went only as far as the site of the fur trade
rendezvous,
traveling with the annual caravan of trader's goods. Whitman
then
decided
to head home and while on the trail began preparations for
bringing
Narcissa
out. He was not amply satisfied that she could made the journey
and
wrote
to her from Council Bluffs:
I was exceedingly surprised that you should have conceived it practicable for you to have crossed the mountains this spring. Had I known half as much of the trip as I do now, when I left you, I should have been entirely willing, if not anxious, that you should have accompanied us.
Even though the marriage was an
"arrangement,"
his decision to turn back in mid-journey and head for home,
indicates
that
he felt a desire to be with her.
Upon his return to New York State
Marcus
found that in the view of the board it would be necessary to
find more
people to accompany him and Narcissa to Oregon in order to
constitute a
mission. Frantically Whitman hunted about for more recruits. The
final
choice was the most unlikely and perhaps the most unfortunate
possible.
The man chosen was Henry Spalding, a rejected suitor of
Narcissa.
Although
Spalding had since married and his wife Eliza Hart would
accompany him,
he still harbored bitterness at the rejection. He hated Narcissa
Whitman,
deemed her a fool, and kept these feelings as long as she lived.
Spalding was otherwise unsuitable as a
companion
for the enterprise. In addition to a very touchy ego, he was not
good
under
stress and was prone to pettiness and bickering. His wife Eliza
was of
better character, a "plain" woman whose loveliness was internal.
But
she
too offered problems. Only recently she had given birth to a
stillborn
child and was still ailing.
Like many women who were to come after
her
on the trail, she nevertheless deemed her spouse's decision to
go West
a command not only of her "earthly master" but thereby from God
himself.
Eliza and Henry Spalding did not attend
the Whitman wedding but it was an add enough affair even without
the
presence
of the rejected suitor. As always, church matters came first,
and
Narcissa's
wedding was hardly more than an adjunct to the ceremony by which
judge
Prentiss was made an alderman. In almost prescient fashion,
Narcissa
was
married in a black dress. The services concluded with a hymn,
Narcissa
singing the last verse alone in her beautiful voice.
Whitman's Second Trip to Oregon
The American Board of Missions provided for Whitman a generous outfit—blacksmith tools, plows, seen grain, clothing for two years and other necessities, pack animals, riding horses, 16 cows and two wagons, making it itself quite a train, and which was driven and managed by William H. Gray and the two Nez Percé Indian boys.
The honeymoon too was odd by today’s
customs.
Bride and bridegroom literally moved with a crowd of people. In
addition
to the Spaldings, they traveled with two Nez Percé youth
whom
Marcus
had brought back from the West with him. Crossing into
Pennsylvania
they
picked up others—the Satterlees, headed for Indian mission work
just
across
the Mississippi, and a young woman also going there to marry her
missionary
finacé.
According to Oregon historian Joseph
Gaston:
To Marcus Whitman belongs the honor of attempting the first wagon haul from Missouri to Oregon. If one could transfer their personality back 76 years to the May morning in 1836, when Dr. Whitman and his bride, Narcissa Prentiss, Rev. Henry Harmon Spalding and his bride, Eliza Hart, the invincible William H. Gray, and the two Nez Percé Indian boys, all and each with light hearts and high hopes, seated themselves in that first wagon to test all the unknown and unforeseeable toils and dangers of a 2,000-mile ride over plains, deserts, mountains and unbroken forests, they might get some idea of the courage, heroism and self-sacrifice which animated that first wagon party on its holy mission to Oregon. These two cultured women were the first white women to attempt that unequaled exploit in the history of mankind. And these two women have been well named "The Real Pioneers of Civilization in the Oregon Territory."
In spite of the circumstances,
Narcissa
fell
deeply in love with her spouse during the honeymoon. Like many
other
arrangements
of the period this marriage developed into a deep bond in the
face of
common
hard experiences. In favor of developing such a bond was the
common
purpose
they shared and the clear and complete dependency that marriage
roles
of
that time dictated. Further, they had brought no romantic views
of love
to their union and in the absence of such expectations, they had
room
for
pleasant surprise. It was not, however, an idyllic union. In the
years
ahead this conflict would take its toll.
While still east of the Mississippi,
though
the journey was relatively easy through the recently settled
frontier
along
the Ohio, you Ms. Satterlee, who like Eliza Spalding had
obediently
followed
her spouse, despite ill health, died of what was probably
tuberculosis.
At Saint Louis, the party received official permission of the
federal
government
for settlement in the Nez Percé and Chinook Indian
Country. The
document was obliquely worded because the situation of ownership
of the
Oregon Territory was in doubt. The question of British vs.
American
claims
had yet to be settled.
In Saint Louis, Narcissa and the others
had the opportunity to view the French city that was already the
grand
old dame of the frontier before Narcissa was born. Here a
characteristic
of the protestant missionaries became clear. In writing to her
family
of
a visit to the new Catholic cathedral, Narcissa gave voice to
the
hatred
that then divided Catholic and protestant and made some
missionaries
feel
they were in a race to save the heathen savage.
The journey overland from Saint Louis
to
the Rockies was probably the happiest time in Narcissa's life.
In
contrast,
Eliza Spalding suffered grievously. The jolting ride, the scant
diet,
the
anxiety of the journey wore on her.
The Heroic Pioneer Woman
Of the fortitude of the women one can not say too much. Embarrassed at the start by the follies of fashion (and long dresses which were quickly discarded and the bloomer donned), they soon rose to the occasion and cast false modesty aside. Could we have had the camera (of course not then in existence) on one of those typical camps, what a picture there would be. Elderly matrons dressed almost as like the little sprite miss of tender years of today. The younger women more shy of accepting the inevitable, but finally fell into the procession, and we had a community of women wearing bloomers without invidious comment, or in fact of any comment at all. Some of them soon went barefoot, partly from choice and in other cases from necessity. The same could be said of the men, as shoe leather began to grind out from the sand and dry heat. Of all the fantastic costumes it is safe to say the like before was never seen nor equaled. The scene beggars description. Patches became visible upon the clothing of the preachers as well as laymen; the situation brooked no respect of persons. The grandmother's cap was soon displaced by a handkerchief or perhaps a bit of cloth. Grandfather’s high crowned hat disappeared as if by magic. Hatless and bootless men became a common sight. Bonnetless women were to be seen on all sides. They wore what they had left or could get without question of the fitness of things.
There was as yet no actual Oregon Trail and
for
a good part of the journey on the Great Plains the missionary
party was
hurrying to overtake the fur company's caravan somewhere ahead
of them.
The crossing of the swollen Platte River was particularly
difficult.
Spalding
had been injured some days earlier and the brunt of the work of
swimming
the draft animals across the river fell to Marcus Whitman—often
in the
years ahead such would be the case. For three days he labored in
the
swirling
water until the crossing was accomplished.
In this stretch of the journey they
added
to their party: William H. Gray, an egocentric young man who,
like
Spalding,
would make a lot of petty trouble; a hired man to drive the
wagons
named
Dulin; another Nez Percé youth; a young man named Miles
Goodyear,
who was now a greenhorn but in these twilight years of the
mountain men
would make a name for himself. Yet another person was added to
the
venture,
for here on the prairie Narcissa Whitman became pregnant.
On May 24, 1836, they finally overtook
the
fur company caravan. Now at least their fears concerning Indian
attacks
were eased. The fur train was headed by Broken-Hand Fitzpatrick,
a
legend
even in his day; and among the rough frontiersmen were two
English
officers.
Historian Joseph Gaston wrote that soon
after starting, the Whitman party
overtook the Fitzpatrick fur traders with their carts, and then making up altogether a caravan of 19 carts, one light wagon and two heavy wagons.
Narcissa promptly invited the Englishmen and
Fitzpatrick
to tea. This scandalized Spalding and Gray, who hated Englishmen
and
thought
Narcissa unseemly and forward. But it assuaged some of
Fitzpatrick's
sullenness
as being encumbered with a party of greenhorns and women.
Gaston wrote that on reaching Fort
Laramie
at the junction of the North Platte and Laramie rivers, in what
is now
Laramie County, Wyoming,
the fur traders' carts stopped, that being as far as it was then deemed practicable for wheeled vehicles, but on account of the enfeebled condition of Narcissa Spalding, Whitman decided to retain the lighter of his two wagons and leave the others behind. In this way Eliza Spalding was carried on safely and comfortably through the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains, following a natural highway.
The land they crossed was virtually as unspoiled and pristine as when seen 30 years earlier by Lewis and Clark. The fur traders had left virtually no mark on the land even along the caravan route. Not until a few years later when the prairie schooners passed this way by the thousands would streams, trees, grass and game be decimated along the line of travel.
The Green River Rendezvous
At Green River, Whitman met the annual rendezvous of the fur traders, and also cpt. Nathaniel J. Wyeth returning from his second expedition to Oregon. Here both the fur traders and Wyeth united in advising Whitman not to attempt to go with his wagon, which they assured him would not only give him great trouble, but dangerously delay his trip. Nevertheless, the courageous Whitman resolved to take his wagon along, and did so successfully, reaching Fort Hall in what is now Bingham County, Idaho, July 24, 1836.
Once the Green River rendezvous was reached somehow for Narcissa the thrill of the adventure ebbed away. She fully realized how far she was going into the wilderness and how unlikely it was she would ever see her home or family again. But what seems to have disturbed her most was the nature of her encounter with the Indians. She found to her dismay that she could not relate to them. Eliza could, but Narcissa couldn't. There may have echoed in her mind something of the words of the head of the missionary board at the outset when he cautioned the Whitmans that the task before them would take profound humility. Though Narcissa had many strong points, humility was not among them.
According to Lynn Sherr and Jurate Kazickas, authors of The American Woman's Gazetteer,
The Cayuse whispered among themselves that [Narcissa Whitman] was "haughty and very proud," and that Marcus [Whitman] was an evil sorcerer who was poisoning the tribe to make way for the white immigrants.
The missionaries left the rendezvous to travel with a party of fur traders returning from Hudson Bay. At Fort Hall the party lost one of its number. Thoroughly fed up with the terrible struggle to bring along the Whitman's wagon where no other wagon had gone, Miles Goodyear turned south at Fort Hall for Utah where he became the first non-indian to settle in the area. One other tried to drop out; William H. Gray, ill from the poor diet, begged to be left by the side of the road to die. Whitman viewed this as senseless melodrama and hauled him astride a horse and the party pressed on.
Snake River Valley
The country of the Snake River was
some
of
the worst they encountered in the long journey. Cutting through
steep
canyons
hundreds of feet deep, the river itself was frequently
inaccessible.
High
above its rushing water, the party looked down upon it and
thirsted.
"Truly
I thought the heavens over us were brass and the earth iron
under our
feet,"
Narcissa wrote in her journal.
Stubbornly, under the blazing August
sun
of the high desert, Whitman struggled to bring the cart on to
Oregon,
believing
that its utility as a farm vehicle outweighed the trouble. Like
countless
pioneers to follow, the party began to lighten their load.
Spalding's
books,
Narcissa's little trunk of clothes, the wagon box itself and
eventually
the entire wagon was abandoned.
Here Whitman and his party had to stop
for
rest and repairs, and here he was again warned that he could not
travel
through that country with his wagon. Loath to give up the wagon
enterprise,
the doctor resolved on a compromise—he would convert the wagon
into a
cart,
proceeding with the front axle, fore wheels and tongue, and put
the
hind
axle and wheels on top as cargo; and in that shape the wagon was
drawn
down through the Snake River Valley, over lava rocks, sand
plains and
sage
brush a distance of 250 miles to old Fort Boise. And there the
old
historical
wagon—the first to pass the Rocky Mountains—was left because the
horses
and the whole party had become so tired out with the labor of
the long
journey, it was not safe to try to drag it through to the
Columbia
River.
But Whitman’s wagon did not make a
wagon
road. It had followed the route found by Hunt and Stuart, and
had
blazed
the way, and that was honor enough. Three years later, Dr.
Robert
Newell
and others concluding to leave the Rocky Mountain region and
come to
Oregon,
came through by Fort Boise, and picked up the remains of
Whitman’s
wagon,
and brought it safely through with their wagons, and delivered
it up to
the doctor at Waiilatpu Mission.
The experience of Dr. Whitman showed
that
it was not an impossible undertaking to bring wagons from the
Missouri
River through the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains to Fort
Hall. And
six
years later, that party of emigrants coming into Oregon with Dr.
Elijah
White, US Indian agent, brought 19 wagons as far as Fort Hall
and then
traded or sold them to the agent of The Hudson's Bay Company,
and came
on to Oregon with horses. That was a very valuable addition to
the
population
of Oregon, bringing in some very good men who were active in
organizing
the Provisional Government.
They made Fort Snake, the forerunner
of
Boise,
Idaho, a rough outpost of the Hudson's Bay Company. There the
party
rested
in deference to the women's desire to do some laundry, only
their
second
opportunity since leaving the Missouri frontier. What followed
was the
most difficult kind of travel. Repeatedly they had to cross the
Snake,
which earns its name in part from its twisting course, but they
were in
the final stage of the long, long trek.
There on August 26, the party divided
at
a place called Division Creek. None of the journals tells of a
final
dispute
between the Spaldings and the Whitmans but many quarrels and
reconciliations
had preceded this day. It was decided that the Whitmans and the
Nez
Percé
boys and Gray would continue with the Hudson's Bay party, while
the
Spaldings
would follow along with the cattle under guidance of an Indian
called
Rottenbelly.
As ominous as was this division
Narcissa
Whitman was now to become the first white woman to reach the
Columbia
River
and would not share in history this honor with Eliza Spalding.
They had
come nearly 4,000 miles overland, riding much of the way
sidesaddle.
There
yet remained the treacherous descent of the Blue Mountains, but
from
its
crest Narcissa beheld far below the thin silver trace of the
Columbia
River
and took heart.
Fort Walla Walla
On September 1 they reached Fort Walla Walla, a fur trading post since 1818. The worst of the journey was done and the Columbia River missionaries, probably now to jaded with travel to appreciate the then untrammeled grandeur of the mighty river with its rapids and abundant salmon and waterfowl. All their expectations were focused on Fort Vancouver, the British fort that was the only town in all the great Pacific Northwest.
Fort Vancouver: Hub of the Northwest Territory
It should have been obvious to them at Fort Vancouver that their preconceptions of the Oregon Territory were wrong.
Fort Vancouver was the headquarters
for
the
Hudson's Bay Company's Columbia Department, embracing
present-day
British
Columbia, Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. The trading post also
represented
Britain’s business and governmental interests in competition
with the
US.
The fort's warehouses stocked supplies
for
the fur brigades, the Indian and settler trade, and the 20 to 30
company
posts in the department. Most Indians were shrewd traders, so
trade
goods
were carefully chosen. Almost all of the trade items were
imported from
or through Britain, so there was a two-year lapse between
ordering and
receiving.
The fort’s shops bustled with activity,
manufacturing as many items as possible. The fort echoed to
sounds of
carpenters
hammering and sawing, of blacksmiths making tools and repairing
old
ones,
and of coopers making barrels. Carts rumbled to and fro piled
high with
supplies and with firewood for the bakehouse's large brick
ovens.
Indians
arrived continually to trade, passing farmers and herders
tending crops
and livestock. Company clerks bent over their account books
figuring
out
how much who owed whom. Frequent visitors were welcomed and
eagerly
quizzed
for news and gossip of the outside.
Though everyone worked hard and for
long
hours—Sunday was the only day of rest in the early years—the
free time
was enjoyed to the fullest. Hunting, riding, picnicking,
footracing,
and
other competitive feats of strength were favored pastimes. The
arrival
of a supply ship or one of the Royal Navy's vessels was cause
for extra
celebration. Once a group of naval officers produced a play, the
first
theatrical performance in the Northwest.
The workers represented many
nationalities.
Sir George Simpson, head of the Hudson's Bay Company's north
American
operations,
once wrote a description of a trip down Columbia River and it
indicated
the diversity of Fort Vancouver:
Our crew of ten men contained Iroquois who spoke their own tongue; a Cree half-breed of French origin, who appeared to have borrowed his dialect from both his parents; a North Briton who understood only the Gaelic of his native hills; Canadians who, of course, knew French, and Sandwich Islanders, who jabbered a medley of Chinook and their own vernacular jargon. Add to all this that the passengers were natives of England, Scotland, Russia, Canada and the Hudson Bay Territories.
The Whitmans and Spaldings had not come to a wilderness to serve Indians cut off totally from civilization. All around the fort were farms—established by British men who had retired from the fur trade and settled down with Indian wives. More significantly, American missionary Rev. Jason Lee and his nephew, Rev. Daniel Lee, sent out by the rival Methodist missionary board, were already on the scene and eager for settlement by American emigrants. The Whitmans and Spaldings had arrived at that moment in which the Oregon Territory was about to become the newest frontier for American settlers.
Waiilatpu Mission
Stubbornly however, they stuck to
their
original
dream. As though to force it into reality the group pulled back
from
Fort
Vancouver eastward into a wilder area. The Spaldings went alone
to
serve
the Nez Percé tribe and the Whitmans settled on the Walla
Walla
River at a place called Waiilatpu.
It was foolhardy to separate again.
None
of them were experienced in making a home on the frontier.
Further,
they
were dividing their strength without much prior knowledge of
what
relations
with the Indians would actually be. In the case of the Spaldings
at
least
the Nez Percé had demonstrated eagerness to have them in
their
midst.
But the Whitmans’ case was quite different—Marcus, for reasons
unknown,
chose to settle among the Cayuse tribe.
He could hardly have made a worse
choice.
The debilitating effect of non-indian intrusion on the Columbia
River
had
worked its way as far upstream as the Cayuse. The Indians there
were
already
infected by the cultural and physical decline that generally
followed
the
intrusion of non-indian material goods, disease, and alcohol.
Even the
Nez Percé warned Whitman against settling among the
Cayuse,
pointing
out to him that the tribe was restless, discontented and rapidly
depleting
in numbers. But Whitman looked over the land of the Cayuse and
found it
good for farming. He was caught between the most effective way
to serve
as a missionary and the most effective way to establish a
missionary
outpost.
Life Among the Cayuse
The years that followed for the
Whitmans
were a long, heartbreaking struggle to transplant the amenities,
standards
and mores of Amity, New York to the shore of the Walla Walla
River.
Narcissa
never relinquished her narrow system of values; Marcus never
thought of
returning East. They persisted in the face of the hardest kind
of
labor,
aided only sporadically by men passing through who would hire on
temporarily
at the tiny settlement. The Nez Percé boys who had
traveled with
the Whitmans grew discontented and left; William Gray decided he
wanted
his own property and walked out on them.
The missionary work necessarily fell
back
into second place. Their energies were almost completely taken
up with
building a house, establishing a farm, and doctoring the
Indians. More
often than not Marcus worked beyond the point of exhaustion, a
pathetic
but gallant figure taking upon his shoulders work and care
enough for
six
men.
Narcissa, pregnant and struggling to
relate
to the Cayuse, worried about their very survival. When the baby
came
the
first spring, there was no one to help with the birth except
Marcus.
The
Indian woman who had been hired to aid Narcissa came down ill
and
Marcus
had to care for her and her children as well as Narcissa and the
new
infant,
Alice Clarissa. Over the years the house on the Walla Walla was
more an
infirmary and hostel than a home. It was an inhumane burden for
two
people
unschooled in frontier skills and grappling with unknown
languages.
Psychologically,
it was particularly hard on Narcissa, for she still clung to the
style
of life now a continent away with its amenities and orderliness.
Pioneer Miriam Colt expressed her
loneliness
in her diary:
We are as much shut out here from the world as though we were on some lonely island in the ocean.
But survive they did. Marcus built the house and a barn. Fencing went up and crops were planted and harvested. Towards the end of their venture on the Walla Walla a mill was under construction. He even found time to impart to the Cayuse some agricultural skills. Narcissa too learned to manage—cooking, cleaning and doing laundry for hordes of people. As the Oregon Trail developed into an emigrant roadway, the annual wagontrains found help and food at the Whitman mission. On one occasion a wagontrain arrived with the half-starved Sager children who had been newly orphaned on the trail. Narcissa took them in and became their mother.
The Cayuse: An "Inferior" Race
Narcissa tried, though unsuccessfully,
to
be a teacher to the Indians but they remained to her an "alien"
and
"inferior"
people. Gradually her school became almost entirely a school for
non-indian
children or the children of non-indian fathers and Indian
mothers.
But she labored on, constantly
reexamining
her heart and her conscience as her copious letters and diaries
show.
She
truly longed to serve her God and the Indians. She was a victim
of her
time, thrust into an unsuitable and demanding role by her deep
desire
to
make something significant of her life when there was no
suitable
channel
for her talents.
In short while the light-hearted energy
had ebbed from Narcissa; hard work and anxiety took a heavy
toll. She
made
her own road even harder for she still yearned for the style of
life
now
a continent away—a genteel life with time to read, with privacy,
with
opportunity
for prayer and thought. Especially both she and Marcus yearned
for rest.
Walla Walla Claims Alice Clarissa
On a Sunday afternoon in their third
year
on the Walla Walla Narcissa paid a terrible price for a few
hours of
such
well-earned rest. While she and her spouse sat enjoying rare
leisure,
engrossed
in their books, Alice Clarissa wandered from the house and
drowned in
the
nearby river. For Narcissa, what light there had been in her
hard world
passed out of it. Thereafter, each time she stepped out of her
door she
saw the tiny grave surrounded by its white picket fence.
Her loss did not, however, embitter
her.
Although she was inept as a missionary and had a narrow concept
of God
and religion, she was a truly faithful believer. She accepted
the
tragedy.
Her love for Alice Clarissa—the only child she would ever
bear—reached
out to other children—among them the orphans of the Oregon
Trail.
By the time the seven Sager orphans
were
established in the house by the river the situation at the
mission was
very bad. In spite of all the visible fruits of their labors—the
farm,
the spacious house, quarters for travelers, a blacksmith
shop—the
Whitmans
and the Spaldings had never been able to resolve their original
conflicts.
Worse, the constant flow of squatters’ wagons that began in 1842
into
the
Oregon Territory was alarming to the Indians. They had heard
what had
happened
to their Eastern Brethren when pallid people came to settle and
now
they
feared they too would soon be displaced from their land. The
Oregon
Territory
was no longer a wild Indian country but the immediate object of
the
American
nation reaching out to extend its borders.
Waiilatpu Mission Ordered Closed
Then the missionaries received a
terrible
blow. The board, disturbed by the quarreling and realizing that
the
idea
of an Indian mission had become obsolete, ordered most of the
mission
facilities
closed and told their builders that they must come home.
Whitman looked around him at the
results
of his long years of hard work and decided He could not let go.
It
would
have been a kindness to Narcissa had he done so, but he instead
decided
to return East and fight the board’s decision.
Even though it was winter, Marcus
Whitman
undertook to travel overland in what was to be a truly heroic
journey.
Legend later would say that Marcus Whitman braved the terrible
crossing
to persuade the government in Washington to annex Oregon but
that was
not
his real motive. He did not see the broader territorial stakes;
he went
to fight for his own territory—Waiilatpu and the life he and
Narcissa
had
invested there.
In Whitman’s absence, Narcissa stayed
alone
at the mission with only the children as companions. On a dark
knight
she
was awakened by the sound of an Indian trying to force entry
into the
house.
Her terrified screams as she fought to hold the door caused the
intruder
to flee. The incident forced her to realize that she could not
stay
alone
at the mission but before she left she had the courage to
confront the
Chief of the Cayuse about the intruder. An Englishman at Fort
Walla
Walla
sent a wagon for her and, in a state of depression and anxiety,
she
left
the mission.
It had been an ominous incident but
what
happened next made things worse than they might have been. A
self-important
man, Dr. Elijah White, had secured appointment as emissary of
the US
government
with respect to Indian relations in the Oregon Territory. In
response
to
the attack on Narcissa he headed inland from the Willamette
Valley with
six armed men, determined to make the Indians submit to his
white man's
laws. White’s show of force and his edicts, among them an
Article Nine
forbidding the keeping of dogs, predictably inflamed the
Indians. Word
circulated among them that Whitman had gone East to obtain
soldiers for
war against the Cayuse.
The Migration of 1843
In his actual mission to Washington Marcus was successful. As he returned home in 1843 a new vision exploded on him. He joined a train of white-topped emigrants' wagons heading to Oregon with an unbelievable 1,000 new squatters. He was so dazzled by what was now happening—the surge of squatters toward Oregon—that on his return to the Walla Walla he failed to see that Narcissa was too sick and worn to continue at the mission. In his excitement over the now full-blown emigration he could not perceive her real needs for rest and to return home. Apparently, however, she tried to be brave and made no such request, at least none that is found in the records.
Chapter 5: Provisional Government
The Value of the Provisional Government 1843-1848
The great body of the emigration of 1843 (estimated from 105 to 137 persons), reached the Oregon City terminus about the last days of October of that year. Suppose, then, that there had been no government, no person or authority to give direction to affairs, to give information, or maintain the orderly progress of society or the public peace? They all came for land; and suddenly without notice, 320 families are dropped down at Oregon City. They know nothing of the country, nothing of what land has been claimed, or where they can go to get a homestead, without trespassing on the rights of a prior locator. In such a case of there had not been anarchy, confusion, and violence, it would have been a wonder. If anarchy and violence had resulted from indiscriminate land grabbing, or land claim jumping, where there could be no US or English title promised, the Hudson’s Bay Company by its Canadian officials, would have been compelled to interpose to maintain peace and order; and that interposition would have set up and put in operation a British, instead of an American government, in Oregon. That would have made the country British in fact and deed; and there would have not been one chance in a hundred for the US to have ever recovered any part of Oregon. But the heroes of Champoeg had wisely forestalled such a calamity by the organization of May 2, 1843. And when the great caravan reached Oregon City six months afterwards, it found an American government in operation, with laws authorizing the newcomers to go out and select their homesites and have them duly recorded and protected. The infant Provisional Government was literally a God-send to the settlers, the incoming immigrants, and to the Canadians as well; and too much honor can never be given the men who organized that government.
Champoeg
"A ball was given on the floor of Dr. John McLoughlin's mill in Oregon City. Lt. Peel bet the wine with the late Dr. Robert Newell that most of those present would take the British side in case of a contest. Peel lost the bet and showing some chagrin in his manner, offered to bet another bottle of wine that a man he indicated sitting right opposite to him across the floor would fight under the British flag. Dr. Newell took the bet. The man was asked to cross the floor when the question was put to him. 'Sir, which flag would you support in case of a war for this country?' The answer was quick and clear. 'I fight underneath the stars and stripes, myself.' The man was Willard H. Reese."
This incident was related by Gov.
Stephen
F. Chadwick a number of years later. It gives a vivid glimpse
into the
way events were building up to trouble with Great Britain over
the
Oregon
Country, as to whose flag was to fly over it. "Oregon" at the
time was
a vast territory extending from the Pacific Ocean to the Rocky
Mountains,
between parallels 42 and 54 to 40. The controversy centered in a
rolling,
grassy "prairie" area extending from the Indian village of
Chemeketa,
near
where the state capitol at Salem now stands northward to a point
just
south
of the Willamette Falls at Oregon City. Possibly this land had
once
been
covered by the same dense forests that mantled the surrounding
country
but Indian tribes, loosely grouped as Calapooya, had long been
in a
habit
of setting fire to the grass and brush each fall, to corral game
for
easy
killing and discourage forest growth.
To the earliest squatters in the 1820s
the
land seemed waiting to be planted to wheat. Etienne Lucier, born
in the
District of Saint Edouard near Montreal, came to this part of
the
Willamette
Valley in those years. He had been a recruited member of the
Wilson
Price
Hunt Expedition overland to Astoria, arriving there in 1812. The
arduous
trip was part of Astor's great venture to establish a branch of
the
Pacific
Fur Company at the mouth of the Columbia River. Lucier became a
trapper
and guide, saw the fertile fields of the Willamette Valley and
decided
to settle there, planting wheat he brought from the post at Fort
Vancouver,
Lucier was Oregon's first farmer.
During the 1830s more French-Canadians
gave
up trapping, married Indian squaws, termed "infidel women"
(heathens or
pagans) by the priests who established missions at nearby Saint
Louis
and
Saint Paul. Inept at farming to begin with, these mountain men
were
soon
producing wheat in a golden flood, using it to pay for all
manner of
food
and supplies in place of money.
A system was established to get the
grain
to market. Many of the farms centered on the banks of the
Willamette
River
at a point called Encampment du Sable. A landing and warehouse
were
built
there, batteaux loaded with grain and floated to the falls at
Oregon
City
where larger boats reloaded the cargo below the falls. Dr. John
McLoughlin
at Fort Vancouver found a good sale for the crop in Russian
settlements
along the coast.
Encampment du Sable took on the more
convenient
name of the Indian village nearby—Champoeg. The origin of the
name,
according
to one version is that it is a combination of two Indian words
for
weed—"champoo"
and "coich," pronunciation similar to "shampooick."
By 1840 there were 50 families on the
French
Prairie, most of them near Champoeg. At first all were
French-Canadians
with Calapooya or Nez Perceé wives and numerous progeny,
but
later
Americans joined the community so that Protestants, particularly
Methodists,
mingled with the Catholics. There was little friction since in
this
remote
country every man had to rely on his neighbor.
Yet there was a storm of vaster
implications
brewing in high levels—the dispute between the US and Great
Britain as
to who would control these fertile lands of the entire Oregon
area. On
October 28, 1818 a treaty of joint occupancy had been signed in
London.
In 1827 this was renewed but now more and more American
squatters began
to chafe at the idea of a possible English government. When the
discontent
finally reached an explosive state, it was less a quarrel than
the need
to settle a private estate amicably.
Ewing Young, who became one of the
wealthiest
squatters, died in 1841 without an heir, his lands, buildings
and
stocks
unclaimed. Now in place of the social and religious meetings the
squatters
were accustomed to have, they gathered to appoint an executor.
At the
time
another kind of meeting was called to cope with losses of
livestock
from
wolves and other predatory animals, specifically losses of
cattle and
horses
running wild on the Young place after his death. On February 2,
1843
the
farmers met again and levied an assessment of $5 on each to pay
bounty
for carcasses of marauding wolves, mountain lions, lynx or bear.
It was
aptly termed a “Wolf Meeting” and the phrase applied to others
following.
A second Wolf Meeting was held on March 2 but this time wolves
were not
discussed.
The Americans, now about equal in
number
to those of foreign origin, were in some ferment over fear of
British
control
and it was agreed by all that a local government of some kind
must be
established.
A committee of 12 was appointed to "take into consideration the
propriety
of taking measures for civil and military protection of this
colony."
The
committee met at Willamette Falls within a few days and arranged
for a
general gathering at Champoeg on May 2 to vote on the situation.
The meeting was the most momentous and
dramatic
in the history of the Oregon Country, resulting in a bloodless
decision
that the vast territory should be under the control of the US
rather
than
Great Britain.
It was called to order in a corner of
the
wheat warehouse, used as an office by the Hudson’s Bay Company.
The
first
resolutions, calling for organization into a self-governing
body,
generated
such excitement and confusion in the confined quarters that many
voters
went unheard and many of those who did hear voted improperly,
even for
the opposing side. The whole gathering then moved outdoors to
the
middle
of a field and while the situation was improved, a voice was
hopeless.
Trapper Joseph L. Meek, tall, dark-eyed and black-bearded,
raised his
penetrating
voice against the uproar, urging the men to “side up” in the
field and
declaring he would start things up by taking the American side.
French-Canadian
George W. Le Breton made the formal motion that this be done and
it was
seconded by American William H. Gray, a Methodist mission
worker.
Joseph Gaston wrote that William H.
Gray,
the author of History of Oregon, will forever hold a unique
place in
the
history and early literature of the state.
Always in the forefront of the battle for what he conceived to be cause of truth and justice to the pioneers of Oregon, he will be recognized and remembered as one of Homer's heroes:
"Oh friends, be men, and let your hearts be
strong,
And let no warrior in the heat of fight
Do what may bring him shame in others' eyes."
Gray will not be remembered so much for his History of Oregon as for the facts and experiences which made the book. While he may not have planned the battle at Old Champoeg on May 2, 1843, he was undoubtedly one of the most active partisans of the American cause at that history making contest. Gray was imbued with the idea that the Hudson's Bay Company was scheming to beat the US out of Oregon Territory, and that the Catholic church was partner in the scheme. And so impressed, he was big with an irrepressible disposition to give battle to those recognized opponents of American occupation of the country, whenever an opportunity offered.
Meek stepped out and called on all those of
the
102 present who wanted an American government established to
gather
around
him.
With a loud hallooing 49 men went to
the
American side to make 50 in all. And fifty remained where they
were. As
for the dissension, McLoughlin and a majority of the
French-Canadians
were
understandably chary at this attempt to form a government on
American
lines
in a region still jointly occupied by Britain and the US. The
other
two?
They were Etienne Lucier and Francoise Matthieu, standing in the
middle,
hesitating. Everyone waited impatiently for them to make up
their
minds.
Lucier said he had heard that under American rule, the very
windows of
his house would be taxed. Matthieu, who owned much land and
property in
nearby Butteville where he was surrounded by American
sympathizers,
suddenly
decided to go with them and persuaded Lucier to do the same.
They
joined
Meek and swayed the vote. The immense area sandwiched between
Mexican
California
and Canada, so tenuously held by England, was now safely under
the flag
of the US—at least as far as the inhabitants were concerned.
Succeeding
events soon made it official.
A group of nine was named to set up the
beginnings of the infant government and a short time later
Champoeg was
declared the capital. A crude State House was erected of split
cedar
slabs
and poles roofed with cedar bark.
This then, was Oregon’s government
until
1849. As time passed its provisions were revised. In 1845 the
executive
committee of three was replaced by a governor—George Abernethy,
a
former
mission employee. Also in 1845 changes were made to allow local
British
participation. Still there were stresses and strains. Some were
content
with the provisional nature of government; others wanted
immediate
American
intervention. There were also those who favored an entirely
independent
republic, neither American nor British. The "English Party" and
the
"American
Party" were the two principal factions in these disputes. The
English
Party
consisted of the Hudson's Bay Company and the Catholic
French-Canadians.
The American Party was a uneasy alliance of the Rocky Mountain
Boys,
the
New England merchants, the wagontrain immigrants, and the
Methodists.
It
was because of this dissension in the American Party that the
English
Party
usually held the balance, at least until 1846 when the boundary
question
was finally solved. After a generation of bickering, the British
demanding
everything north of the Columbia, the Americans demanding
everything
south
of Alaska, the present boundaries were finally agreed upon by
negotiation.
The 1846 treaty was not popular in Oregon. In particular, the
provision
to keep its land at Fort Vancouver was resented—that fort where
so many
of the missionaries and squatters had received McLoughlin. "Man
is a
preposterous
pig; probably the greediest animal that crawls upon this
planet," wrote
Frances Fuller Victor in commenting on the desire to grab Fort
Vancouver
too.
Cayuse War 1847
Between the boundary settlement and the end of the decade three events occurred that had a profound effect on Oregon. The first of these had its beginnings on the morning of December 8, 1847 when Abernethy addressed the legislature, gathered in the Methodist church by the falls at Oregon City. The governor warned:
Our relations with the Indians becomes every year more embarrassing. They seethe white man occupying their lands, rapidly filling up the country, and they put in a claim for pay. They have been told that a chief would come out from the US and treat with them for their lands; they have been told this so often that they begin to doubt the truth of it.
That afternoon the legislators,
obliged
to
leave off their game of horse billiards (a kind of shuffleboard)
because
of falling show, assembled again the church, and it was then
that they
heard the news. The Cayuse had slaughtered the Whitmans together
with
12
members of their mission and were holding captive 53 women and
children.
The legislators acted immediately by moving that a volunteer
army be
formed
with three objectives: (1) rescue the captives; (2) punish the
murderers
and (3) prevention of a coalition of the Cayuse with other
interior
tribes.
Thus began the Cayuse War, the first of the Oregon Indian wars,
a
bungle
and a waste from beginning to end.
First of all, there was a shortage of
both
money and men. The Provisional Government's treasury contained
$43.72
and,
as for volunteers, one squatter remarked that when the war was
over "We
will have great patriots as we now have great chimney-corner
warriors."
Next to the considerable chagrin of the
Americans, before they could get themselves together and proceed
to the
scene of the massacre, the Hudson's Bay Company had rescued the
prisoners
and delivered them to Oregon City. As was feared, some of the
women had
been violated. The wrath this provoked can be gauged from an
editorial
in the Oregon City Spector:
...Let them (the Indians) be pursued with unrelenting hatred and hostility, until their lifeblood has atoned for their infamous deed; let them be hunted as beasts of prey; let their name and race be blotted from the face of the earth; and the places that once knew them, know them no more forever.
Colonel Cornelius Gilliam: Baptist
Preacher,
Indian
Fighter, and Famed Tracker of Runaway
Slaves
The formal campaign began with the arrival at The Dalles of the volunteers' commander, col. Cornelius Gilliam, veteran of the Black Hawk and Seminole wars, famed tracker of runaway slaves, Baptist preacher, and a man of whom it has been said that he "preferred the smoke of gunpowder to the smoke of peace pipes." The first casualty of this campaign occurred on the evening of his arrival and was reported by him in a letter to his wife:
...One of the guards shot a squaw in the thigh thinking that she was an Indian man. It appears that she was crawling along on the ground so that she [could] get to a place of appointment between her and some of your young men which I am very sorry to [say] such things do frequently occur...
Col. Gilliam's young men, in a manner
most
haphazard, fought their little war for the next six months,
their ranks
reduced by dysentery, drunkenness and desertions, the latter
particularly
frequent when spring planting came around. Also, they had some
difficulty
in finding the Indians, and when they did, some difficulty in
determining
which were enemies and which friends. They never did succeed in
apprehending,
let alone identifying, Whitman’s murderers. Finally, Gilliam by
accident
shot himself dead, which more of less ended the hostilities.
Though the casualties were not
particularly
high since both sides were chronically short of gunpowder, it
exacerbated
those already difficult relations between Americans and British,
protestants
and Catholics and, most seriously, Indians and non-indians. The
only
blessing
in disguise lay in the fact that Oregon at last gained the
capital from
Washington City, as the capital was then called. At the outset
of the
war
the sheriff of Oregon, retired Rocky Mountain trapper Joe Meek,
was
dispatched
to Washington where he presented himself as "envoy extraordinary
and
minister
plenipotentiary from the Republic of Oregon to the court of the
US"—the
"court" a sarcastic reference by sheriff Meek to what he no
doubt
considered
an effete and decadent capital compared with his own at Oregon
City.
This
prejudice notwithstanding, Meek had come to request assistance
in the
Cayuse
War and, in particular, to urge on pres. James Knox Polk
(1795-1849), a
shirttail relation, territorial status for the Oregon Country.
Eventually
his efforts, along with others, would prove successful but, in
the
meantime,
the second event so important to early Oregon occurred.
California Goldrush 1848
One day in August 1848 Robert Newell
sailed
up the Willamette, buying as he went along all the spades he
could
find—a
circumstance found puzzling. When his ship would hold no more of
spades,
wheat and other provisions, capt. Newell informed the gulled
locals
that
gold had been discovered in California.
It is estimated that two-thirds of the
able-bodied
men of Oregon threw down what was in hand—axes, awls, chisels,
plows,
pens,
scales, forceps, tankards, and bibles—and departed for
California. The
most serious of the derelictions was the plow for, after all,
the
people
left behind had to eat. The Oregon City Spector pled with
Oregonians to
stay on the farm—until, that is, the paper’s own printer
departed and
ended
for the time being the paper’s publication.
It is possible that the Oregon
settlement
would not have survived, or if so but lamely, without the
California
goldrush.
Now for the first time there was a nearby market for Oregon
products.
Also,
many Oregonians returned with gold to replace what had been an
awkward
currency to say the least; what, one bushel equals one dollar.
Finally, there were those who, going
off
to the goldrush, never returned. Good riddance! Such could not
be
persons
of worth for otherwise they would not have elected to remain in
California.
Here is Frances Fuller Victor on the subject of the goldrush:
...After all it will be seen that the distance of Oregon from the Sierra Foothills proved at this time the greatest of blessings, being near enough for commercial communication, and yet so far away as to escape the mad scramble for wealth, such as social dissolutions, the rapine of intellect and principle, an overruling spirit of gambling—a delirium of development, attended by robbery, murder, and all uncleanness, and followed by reaction and death.
Doctor Robert Newell
Champoeg began to take on the
appearance
of a permanent town, largely through the efforts of dr. Robert
Newell.
Two places in Ohio, Putnam and Zanesville, are mentioned as his
birthplace,
in 1807. At 18 he became a Rocky Mountain trapper, then as the
fur
trade
declined, he teamed up with Joe Meek on a trip to the Oregon
Country,
spending
some time in Idaho and acquiring Nez Perceé wives. They
were
sisters,
princess daughters of Sub-Chief Kow-e-so-te. With a third man
they
brought
the first wagons from Fort Hall to Oregon, although half
dismantled.
When
they stopped at the mission in Walla Walla, Dr. Marcus Whitman
congratulated
the young men, saying: "You will never regret your efforts. Now
that
you
have brought the first wagons, others will follow."
Newell, often referred to as "Doctor"
or
more friendly as "Doc," took up residence in Champoeg and began
to
raise
a family. He bought and fitted up two batteaux, starting a
regular run
between the town and the falls above Oregon City. They were
called
Mogul
and Ben Franklin, power provided by Indian paddlers.
By 1851, when steamboats reached the
town,
Newell abandoned his primitive vessels and turned to real
estate.
Having
taken up the 360-acre claim of Walter Pomeroy at the southern
edges of
Champoeg, he laid out a sub-division and sold lots. When need
for land
access became acute, he persuaded the provisional legislature to
survey
and construct a stage road from Salem to his property which he
called
Oxford.
The Salem-Saint Paul-Champoeg road is essentially the same route
today.
By the 1850s there were about 150
buildings
in Champoeg including adjoining Oxford where Newell had built a
fine
home331
on a higher level above the Willamette River. Canadian fur
trader Peter
Skene Ogden (1794-1854) and politician Sir James Douglas
(1803-1877)
reported
in 1847 that the Hudson's Bay Company property in Champoeg was
worth
about
$8,500 and the concern sold out in 1852 for some $17,000. Values
and
building
continued to increase until the catastrophe of 1861 which all
but wiped
out the progressing city.
The Great Cholera Panic 1852
The scourge of cholera on the Platte
in
1852
is far beyond my power of description. In later years I have
witnessed
panics on shipboard; have experienced the horrors of the flight
of a
whole
population from the grasp of the Indians, but never before nor
since
such
scenes as those in the thickest of the ravages of cholera. It
did seem
that people lost all control of themselves and of others. Whole
trains
could be seen contending for the mastery of the road by day, and
the
power
of endurance tested to the utmost both men and beast at night.
The
scourge
came from the south, as we met the trains that crossed the
Platte and
congested
the trail, one might almost say, both day and night. And small
wonder
when
such scenes occurred as is related. Ms. M. E. Jones, now of
North
Yakima,
relates that 40 people in their train died in one day and two
nights
before
reaching the crossing of the Platte. Martin Cook, of Newberry,
is my
authority
for the following: A family of seven persons, the father known
as "Dad
Friels," from Hartford, Warren County, Iowa, all died of cholera
and
were
buried in one grave. He could not tell me the locality nor the
exact
date,
but it would be useless to search for the graves, as all such
have long
ago been leveled by the passing of the hoofs of the buffalo or
domestic
stock, or met the fate of hundreds of shallow graves, desecrated
by the
hungry wolves. While camping with a sick brother four days a
short
distance
above Grand Island, by actual count of one day and estimate for
three,
1,600 wagons passed by, and a neighboring burial place grew from
five
to
52 fresh graves. With usual opportunities for gathering
information
upon
this subject, through personal acquaintance with pioneers
throughout
the
Pacific Northwest, all of whom came to that region prior to
1860, it is
his judgment that from 25,000 to 30,000 men, women and children
were
buried
in nameless graves between the Missouri and the Columbia, as a
part of
the price paid for the early settlement of Oregon.
All sorts of incidents of human life
break
the monotony of the march. Suddenly a wagon is seen to pull out
of the
train and off to the wayside. The only doctor in the train,
Marcus
Whitman,
goes off with it. Many are the inquiries of the unusual event;
and
grave
fears expressed of the danger of leaving a lone wagon behind in
an
Indian
country. The lumbering caravan moves slowly on, passes behind
the
bluffs
and out of sight, and the anxiety and fears for the lone wagon
behind
increase.
The train halts for the night, forms its defensive circle, fires
are
lighted
for the evening meal and the shadows of the night are creeping
down
upon
the camp—when, behold, the lone wagon rolls into camp, the
doctor
smiling
and happy—it was a newborn boy—mother and child all right and
ready for
the continued journey. Jesse Applegate
Jesse Applegate, in the article mentioned, speaking of Dr. Whitman, who had been over the trail once before, says his constant advice was
Travel, travel, travel; nothing else will take you to the end of your journey; nothing is wise that does not help you along; nothing is good for you that causes a moment's delay.
And Applegate adds his testimonial as follows:
It is no disparagement to others to say that to no other individual are the emigrants of 1843 so much indebted for the successful conclusion of their journey as to Dr. Whitman.
The watch for the night is set; the flute and violin have ceased their soothing notes, the enamored swain has whispered his last good night, or stolen the last kiss from his blushing sweetheart, and all is hushed in the slumber of the camp of 1,000 persons in the heart of the great mountains 1,000 miles away from any white man’s habitation, with savage Indians in all directions. What a picture of American ideas, push, enterprise, and empire building. Risking everything, braving every danger, bumptious people, boasting of our good deeds and utterly ignoring our bad ones. But where is the people that have accomplished such work as these Missourians and their neighbors from Iowa, did it literally picking up a commonwealth in pieces, on the other side of the continent and transporting it 2,000 miles to the Pacific Coast and setting it down here and around and about this Willamette Valley, and starting it off in good working order at Champoeg with all the state machinery to protect non-indian life and property and promote the peace and happiness of all concerned, and all others who might join in the society. It is something to be proud of.
Let me take you back to 1839—just a
couple
of years before Gilbert Knapp set foot on the banks of the Root
River
and
said this place was now his.
That sounds not quite right—to say a
place
belongs to you. It may be impossible for us to understand what
the
world
felt like back then. It's hard to contemplate the feeling of
incredible
confidence that seemed so natural (looking at them from this
great
distance)
to successful white men of the time.
I don’t think they were arrogant, at
least
not in the boastful way we think of that word these days. My
guess is
that
they saw the world as a big, unbounded and unfinished
wilderness, a
place
that was given to them by God. And their job was to turn this
earth
into
some vision of an endless, cultivated, European countryside.
That vision so dominated their
imagination
that the way they treated non-Europeans must have seemed
peripheral. To
them, Indians and slaves were tools to help them complete their
work.
What we don't take seriously can become
our greatest evil.
The Flood of 1861
The Willamette River had risen in
1853-1854
to the point where water flowed through the edges of Champoeg
and
nibbled
at the foundations of buildings. The stream subsided with little
damage
but Champoeg citizens were not alert to the warning.
In 1861, September and October passed
with
almost no precipitation. Then it began to rain in earnest and
November
brought an unending deluge which turned to snow. Temperatures
rose,
rain
continued and the snowbanks melted.
Every tributary of the main stream,
particularly
the raging Santiam, which originates in the Cascade Mountains,
swelled
the Willamette almost a foot an hour until by December 2 the
river was
55 feet higher than summer stage and 12 feet above the level of
1853-1854
flood. This time the murky, roaring waters swept over the town
seven
feet
deep with terrific force, large logs acting as battering rams,
and one
by one Champoeg's buildings were carried away. The river stayed
up for
several days then slowly subsided to reveal a townsite "bare as
a sandy
beach." Three hundred and fifty houses were washed downstream
yet the
destruction
was not quite total. Two solidly constructed structures remained
standing—the
two saloons!
The higher bench where Robert Newell
had
his house remained dry, the house intact. Newell, however, was
financially
ruined, his holdings in town entirely swept away. His Indian
wives had
died long before and now he took his new non-indian wife and
many
offsprings
to Lewiston, Idaho, the scene of his youthful dalliance.
Attempts were made to lay out a new
town
on the old site but with its moving spirit gone, once so strong
many
people
thought of the place as Newellsville, nothing much happened. The
green
meadow where the fateful vote was taken is now marked by a
granite
shaft,
its exact location determined in 1900 by the last surviving
voter,
Francois
Matthieu. It is emblazoned with the names believed on best
authority to
be of those siding with Meek and the US. Surrounding all is
Champoeg
State
Park where thousands hold summer picnics.
The Historic Site of Champoeg 1912
To preserve for all time the historic
site
of the birthplace of the first American government on the
Pacific
Coast,
and all the glorious memories that cluster around it, Joseph
Buchtel,
of
Portland, one of the patriotic pioneers of 1852, has devoted
much time
to raising the means to secure a tract of 12 acres of land at
Champoeg,
adjoining the monument erected there in 1901 to honor the memory
of the
Provisional Government convention of May 2, 1843; the additional
ground
to be used as a state park for celebrations and pioneer
gatherings. The
purchase of this land has been effected by Buchtel aided by a
number of
friends, and the deed is being held in escrow until the state
makes an
appropriation to cover the cost.
"No event in the history of the Pacific
Northwest was so important as the convention at Champoeg in
1843," says
Buchtel, "which saved all this country to the US. The ground
ought to
be
secured, and will be secured, in commemoration of the event and
the men
who voted to retain the country under the jurisdiction of the US
government."
Butteville
The paddle-wheel steamer Shoalwater
was
no
more but her bones had been reshaped, her decks relaid, her
defects
covered
with thick white paint. And there was her owner pointing proudly
to her
new name—Fenix. Funny name, people of the Willamette Valley
said.
What's
it mean? "Why that," explained the owner, "that's the bird in
the fable
that rose up out of the ashes to fly again. See the point? I
know how
it
should be spelled but this way I could make the letters bigger."
And what happened to the Shoalwater?
One
day in May 1853, making its landing at the Butteville dock,
above
Willamette
Falls where Oregon City is now, the Willamette River swollen by
spring
rains and flowing savagely, the skipper laid on all the steam it
had
and
called for more. The Shoalwater had the spirit but its flues
were weak
and a great blast rent the boilers. On deck ready to disembark,
the
passengers
suddenly found themselves in the cold currents. All were in luck
to be
saved from drowning but none of them ever wanted to hear the
name
Shoalwater
again.
Etienne Lucier planted the first crop
in
French Prairie, a flat, treeless area along the Willamette about
1830.
The crop was wheat and from then on, until about the turn of the
century
wheat was almost the only agricultural product of the area—this
in a
land
where the soil was capable of producing anything suitable to a
temperate
climate. Wheat found a ready market and that was enough. The
only real
difficulty at first was getting the crop to that market since
there
were
no roads, only the river, and cargoes had to be portaged around
large
falls
and rapids at Oregon City and transferred to other craft for the
rest
of
the trip to Fort Vancouver.
All this effort caused a rash of little
towns to spring up along the Willamette between the present
Salem and
Oregon
City. The town of Butteville was one of these.
Butteville is on the east bank of the
Willamette,
about four miles northwest of Aurora, at the extreme northern
end of
the
wheat belt called French Prairie and has an elevation of 103
feet. It
was
primarily a river landing and never progressed much beyond that
although
it did boast a church, schools, stores and several saloons
during the
golden
period of wheat shipping. The village that grew up beside the
first
crude
river landing about 1840 was first called La Butte by the
predominately
French settlers, for a well-known hill about a mile to the
southwest.
La
Butte has an elevation of 427 feet. Butteville was laid out
prior to
1850
by George Abernethy and Alason Beers.
Joel Palmer, the man who had pioneered
a
route for the first wagons over the shoulder of Mount Hood,
mentioned
the
settlement in his journal in 1845:
Eight miles from Pudding River is a village called Bute. It was laid out by messrs. Abernethy and Beers. There were but a few cabins there when I left. The proprietor had erected a warehouse to store wheat they might purchase of the settlers, who should find it convenient to sell their crops at this point. At this place are some conical hills called Butes, which arise to considerable heights; the sides and tops of them are covered with tall fir trees which can be seen from the valley for 60 miles.
The Oregon Electric Railway has a station
called
Butteville about two miles east of the town. This station was
formerly
called Chopunnish, a northwest Indian name, and was changed to
Butteville
to avoid confusion. Butteville post office was established with
the
name
Champoeg on September 9, 1850, with Francois X. Matthieu first
postmaster,
and was Americanized to Butteville probably in the 1860s,
although the
date of this change is not clear in the records. The office
closed to
Aurora
August 18, 1905.
When George Abernethy and Alason Beers
drove
pilings at the edge of the river and laid out a simple town,
they had
big
ideas of a metropolis that would outshine the rival Champoeg.
For
instance
they planned to handle the buying and shipping of the
squatters—almost
to a man retired French-Canadian trappers of the Hudson’s Bay
Company—and
later they would sell real estate, establish stores and saloons.
Since
there was little or no gold and business was done in trade, they
rancher
would get his pay in groceries and spend the rest of what he had
coming
for liquor or wine, Abernethy and Beers making a profit at every
turn.
However this was not to come about.
Abernethy
became involved in the simple politics of the day and was so
dedicated
to seeing the Provisional Government get off on the right foot
he was
elected
first governor of Oregon in 1845 and had no time to promote his
interests
in Butteville.
Governor George Abernethy
An election was held June 3, 1845, for
governor
and other officers, at which time George Abernethy (1845-1849).
a
former
mission employee, and Amos L. Lovejoy were candidates for
governor.
Abernethy, who was a native of New
York,
came to Oregon in 1840 as a lay member of the Methodist mission.
He
kept
a store for a time in Oregon City. On election day, he received
a
majority
of 98 votes out of a total of 504.
On August 3, 1845, Abernethy was
inaugurated.
Two years later he was reelected. His term of office was from
July 14,
1845 through March 3, 1849.
The Provisional Government Executive
Committee,
elected by the inhabitants of the Oregon Territory were David
Hill,337
Joseph Gale, and Alanson Beers. Their term of office was July 5,
1843-May
25, 1844.
Alanson Beers Arrives In Oregon 1837
Alanson Beers, with wife and family of
three
children arrived in Oregon by ship, probably in May 1837. The
blacksmith
son of a Revolutionary War soldier, born in Connecticut in 1800,
was an
anvil-solid help in the early days of the Oregon Walamet Mission
of the
Methodist Episcopal Church.
Beers and some lay workers at the
mission
spent most of the summer transporting goods from ship to shore,
a slow
process done by canoe, while others were building a log cabin
for him.
As mission blacksmith, he was kept busy hammering nails, the
square-sided,
square-headed pieces of metal sometimes still found in the ruins
of old
buildings. Beers also repaired and built farm machinery and
later was
placed
in full charges, erecting mills which required machinery.
His first claim to fame comes from his
being
one of those voting for the US at the Champoeg meeting in 1843.
He was
then elected to the legislative come the first military
organization in
the Northwest and later went into partnership with Oregon's
first
territorial
governor, George Abernethy, in the operation of the gristmill at
Willamette
Falls in Oregon City.
Joseph L. Meek was elected the first
sheriff
of the Provisional Government, and President Polk appointed him
US
marshal
of Oregon in 1848.
Despite the fact that the provisional
did
not have the power to tax, and when it did acquire the power had
great
difficulty collecting the tax—even from its own executive
committee—and
despite the fact that it was not officially recognized by the
majority
over whom it presumed to rule, still, the laws it enacted were
by and
large
observed, though on occasion in a curious in a curious fashion.
Polk County Prisoner Sold at Auction 1843
In Polk County, for example, a man was
sentenced
to three years imprisonment but, there being no jail and no
taxes with
which to build one, it was decided to sell him at auction! A
local
farmer
bought the criminal, worked him for three years, after which he
was
given
a horse and saddle and $20, and released.
When enough money was finally raised to
construct a jail, it was destroyed by fire. Abernethy’s message
to the
legislature in December 1846, is of special interest:
I regret to be compelled to inform you that the jail, located in Oregon City, the property of the territory, was destroyed by fire the night of the 18th of August last—the work, I have no doubt, of an Indentiary. A reward of $10,000 was immediately offered, but, as yet, the offer has not been discovered. Should you think best to erect another jail I would suggest the propriety of building it of large stone clamped together. We have but little use of a jail, and a small building would answer all purposes, for many years, no doubt, if we should be successful in keeping ardent spirits out of the territory.
The facts about Beers are obscure but
it
is known the first real store at the landing was started about
1850 by
Francois Matthieu, who talked the vacillating Etienne Lucier
into
casting
his vote with the Americans at Champoeg.
Matthieu was one of the early
French-Canadian
trappers who with the decline of the fur industry had settled on
French
Prairie in 1842. He lived with Lucier two years, making himself
generally
useful as a builder of wagons and houses, then married Rose
Osant,
daughter
of another ex-trapper. Two years later he took a donation land
claim at
La Butte. Matthieu had "a way with people" and after his
successful
persuasion
of the declining votes in Champoeg, he was elected constable,
often
settling
disputes by inviting contestants to dinner and the difficulty
was
usually
settled amicably over a bottle of French wine.
Matthieu decided against a comparative
retirement
to run the store. He cut trees on his claim and laid logs for
the lower
half of the building and had some whipsawed for the upper
section.
Hand-adzed
planks served for a floor and split cedar shakes for the roof.
From
then
on for 15 years Matthieu's Store was the most important place in
Butteville.
One good customer was Dr. Robert Newell of Champoeg, another the
Hudson's
Bay Company emissary, Michael Framboise. For two years he had a
partner,
George La Rogue. A plat of Butteville in the Historical Atlas
Map of
Marion
and Linn Counties 1878, shows the La Rogue claim as entirely
surrounding
the townsite of Butteville and seems to include it.
In 1860 an Episcopal church was built,
prudently
quite high on the bank. Funds for construction came short of a
bell but
the congregation felt that God, in time, would provide. Next
year the
big
flood that washed through so many river towns inundated
Champoeg,
wrecked
the sister church there and carried the belfry, complete with
bell,
down
to Butteville and depositing it in a thicket along the creek
bank.
Champoeg,
utterly destroyed, had no more use for the bell, so it was
joyfully
reclaimed,
cleaned of mud and hung in the Butteville steeple.
As long as there were few roads, and
these
almost impassable in wet weather, Butteville flourished. When
rumors
circulated
that the Oregon and California Railroad would stop there, it was
hoped
farmers would continue to haul wheat in and that it would be
shipped by
train. But the rails bypassed Butteville and the town gradually
faded.
In 1965 it is still alive, a tiny and picturesque hamlet with
only one
business, a modern grocery store in one of the old, revamped
buildings.
Chapter 6: Oregon Territory
So long as "free land exists"... economic power secures political power. But the democracy born to "free land," strong in selfishness and individualism, intolerant of administrative experience and education, and pressing individual liberty beyond its proper bounds, has its dangers as well as its benefits. Individualism in American has allowed a laxity in regard to governmental affairs which has rendered possible the spoils system, and all the manifest evils that follow from the lack of a highly developed civic spirit. In this connection may be noted also the influence of frontier conditions in permitting lax business honor, inflated paper currency, and wildcat banking. The colonial and revolutionary frontier was the region whence emanated many of the worst forms of an evil currency. The West in the War of 1812 repeated the phenomenon on the frontier of that day, while the speculation and wildcat banking of the period of the crisis of 1837 occurred on the new frontier belt of the next tier of states. Thus each one of the periods of lax financial integrity coincides with periods when a new set of frontier communities had arisen, and coincides in area with these successive frontiers, for the most part. The recent Populist agitation is a case in point. Many a state that now declines any connection with the tenets of the Populist itself adhered to such ideas in an earlier state of development of the state. A primitive society can hardly be expected to show the intelligent appreciation of the complexity of business interests in a developed society. The continual recurrence of these areas of paper-money agitation is another evidence that the frontier can be isolated and studied as a factor in American history of the highest importance.
Oregon Territory Created 1848
On August 14, 1848, the vast Oregon
Territory
(1848-1858) was created by Congress. President Polk signed the
bill the
next day.
The act described the territory as
All that part of the territory of the US which lies west of the summit of the Rocky Mountains, north of the 42nd degree of north latitude, known as the Oregon Territory, shall be organized into the constitute of temporary government, secretary, attorney, marshal, and three justices of the Supreme Court who also [will] preside[d] over the district courts.
Polk offered the position of governor
to
Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) who turned it down because his wife,
Mary
Todd
(1818-1882), flatly refused to come to Oregon.
On March 3, 1849, the Mexican War hero
Joseph
Lane of Indiana (1849-1853; 1853-1853), appointed governor by
president
Polk, arrived in Oregon City to proclaim that the Oregon Country
was
now
an official territory of the US. He was accompanied by Joseph L.
Meek,
who had been sent to Washington to report the Whitman Massacre.
The
following
day the new governor issued a proclamation which established the
Oregon
Territory in the Pacific Northwest. At last, the squatters and
their
land
were under US protection. What stuck in the craw of many,
however, was
that they were also under US authority. Theretofore the people
had
enacted
their own laws and elected their own officials. Hereafter all
principal
officials could be appointed in Washington—political spoils,
strangers
ruling over Oregon. Also, Washington might review and pass on
Oregon
legislation.
The sop was one locally elected delegate to Congress. And the
sop
really
fell short of even that, for the delegate had no vote.
Mounted Rifle Regiment in Oregon City 1849
The squatters began to wonder if the protection itself was worth territorial status in view of the form that protection first took. This was the appearance in Oregon City, following Lane's arrival, of a US force called the Mounted Rifle Regiment. Frances Fuller Victor wrote that they were "quartered at great expense, and to the disturbance of peace and order of that moral and temperate community." After a winter of racket, drunkenness and random shots, they were removed to Fort Vancouver, a departure the citizens of Oregon City celebrated by burning down their barracks. Thus began the rather equivocal relations between the territory of Oregon and the government of the US.
Donation Land Act 1850
Pending passage of a federal Donation
Land
Act, all laws previously passed making grants of land or
effecting or
encumbering
titles of land, were declared null and void. Oregon voters
elected a
delegate
in the US House of Representatives to represent the new
territory. He
did
not have to vote in the House. Five thousand dollars was
appropriated
for
a seat of government, and $5,000 for the purchase of a library.
The act
further specified that sections 16 and 36 of each township were
to be
reserved
as school lands, when a land survey was made.
It was Lewis F. Linn (1795-1843) who
urged
the American occupation of Oregon in the early 1830s. Linn, a
surgeon
and
lived at Genevieve, Missouri, was born near Louisville,
Kentucky,
November
5, 1895. His nephew, lt. William Pope McArthur, made the
earliest
government
survey of the Pacific Coast including the mouth of the Columbia
for the
US Coast Survey in 1849-1850. His grand-nephew, Lewis Linn
McArthur
(1843-1897)
came to Oregon in 1864 to practice law, and was at one time a
member of
the Oregon Supreme Court. His great grand-nephew, Lewis A.
McArthur
(1883-1951),345
was the original author of Oregon Geographic Names.
Sen. Linn was the author of the
Donation
Land Act which gave free land to settlers in the West, and was
the
forerunner
of the homestead law. He was appointed US senator for Missouri
in 1833,
elected in 1836, and reelected in 1842, and served until his
death,
October
3, 1843. His work in the Senate was highly important to western
settlement
and acquisition of Oregon. His activity in the Senate, in
support of
his
bill to occupy Oregon and granting land to actual settlers, was
his
last
work of importance. John Calhoun (1782-1850) and George McDuffee
(c1790-1851)
led the fight against the Linn bill. They contended the bill
would make
a breach of faith with Great Britain, and cause international
complications.
The Donation Land Act, based on Linn’s idea, passed Congress
September
27, 1850.
This act of Congress provided donations
to settlers of public land in the Oregon Territory, under which
a
citizen
of the US, or one who had declared intentions before December 1,
1850,
and who had resided upon and cultivated the land for four
consecutive
years,
was granted, if single, 320 acres; if married or became married
within
one year, 640 acres, half to be held by the wife.
Doris Weatherford cautiously wrote that
under the laws of most states, when the nation was young,
a married woman literally did not own the clothes on her back. Though she probably sewed them herself, most states entitled her spouse to legal possession of everything a woman earned, whether that was cash income or an item of value as intimate as her clothing. These attitudes were the result of an English judicial system grounded in the axiom that the marriage contract turned two individuals into one, "and that one is the man." It took many years to gradually change these laws that, in marriage, caused women to be legally absorbed by men. Under English and colonial law, a man received additional land if he had a wife and/or daughters, but far from owning that property, the women were viewed by the law as a form of property themselves! The general assumption that Western women were entitled to land they had homesteaded, even if their husbands died or disappeared, is entirely erroneous.
Alien land grabbers were specifically
barred,
but
were given a year to make a declaration. In case of death before
naturalization
was completed, land descended "to whom, as the case may be, the
patent
shall issue." Land grabbers claiming possessory rights under
treaty
with
Great Britain were excepted, but were limited to a single tract
of
land.
All white male citizens, or those having declared intentions,
above age
21, emigrating to and settling in the Oregon Territory within
three
years
after December 1, 1850, were granted 160 acres if single; 320 if
married
within one year after becoming 21 years old, with half going to
the
spouse.
All sections 16 and 36 were barred from donation rights and set
aside
for
public schools. Two townships, one north and one south of the
Columbia
River, both west of the Cascade Mountains, were granted to aid
in the
establishing
of a University of Oregon.
Mineral lands, lands reserved for
salines,
all government property and property needed for public purposes
were
excepted
from the operation of the act. The law not only encouraged
settlement,
but caused many marriages. With many brides in their early
teens, brief
courtships and early weddings became the rule.
In numerous instances, while families
were
on their way to Oregon, the spouses and fathers were killed by
Indians
or died from natural causes, leaving a widow who, with her
children,
continued
the journey and settled the territory.
There were cases where both father and
mother were killed, and other cases where the mother and father
died
after
arriving in Oregon and before they could grab free land.
Wallis Nash gives the following account
of the land system relating to the preemption and homestead laws
applicable
to the public lands of the state:
US Land Offices • Oregon City • Roseburg • Linkville • The Dalles • La Grande
It is true, long since, the
prairie-lands
of the Willamette Valley have all been taken up and are in the
hilly
and
wooded portions of Western Oregon still open; there is also an
abundance
of open land in the fine valleys of Eastern and Southern Oregon
available.
There are still upward of 30 million acres unsurveyed which out
of the
nearly 70 million which the state contains.
There are five US land offices in
Oregon:
Namely, at Oregon City, for the upper and central parts of the
Willamette
Valley, including also Northwestern Oregon generally; at
Roseburg, for
Southwestern Oregon; at Linkville, for the southeastern portion;
at La
Grande, for Eastern Oregon, strictly so called; and at The
Dalles, for
the great counties of Wasco and Umatilla, the northern part of
the
state.
At each of the land office a register and also a receiver are
stationed;
and the maps of the district are also deposited there for
general
reference.
When the squatter has ascertained that
a
piece of land is eligible—that is, that it will suit him not
only for
clearing
and farming, but also to build his house on and live there—he
goes to
his
neighbors to find out the nearest corner posts or stones, and
thence by
compass he can determine roughly the boundary-lines. The land
must lie
in a compact form, not less than 40 acres wide; thus he can take
his
160
acres in the shape of a clean quarter section of an "L" or in a
strip
across
the section of 40 acres wide; but he cannot pick out 40 acres
here, and
a detached 40 there, and so on.
He then goes to the county clerk's
office,
where duplicates of the land office maps are kept. He finds out
there
with
sufficient correctness if the piece he wants is open to
settlement. The
land office is the only source of quite certain information,
because it
is possible that a claim may have been put on file at the land
office,
particulars of which have not reached the county clerk. Being
satisfied
that the land is open, the intending squatter must next
determine
whether
to preempt or homestead. If he desires to preempt, and by
payment to
the
government of $1.25 per acre for public land outside the limits
of
railroad
and wagon-road grants, or $2.50 per acre for land within those
limits,
to obtain an immediate title, he must be sure that He does not
fall
within
the two exceptions; for no one can acquire a right of preemption
who is
the proprietor of 320 acres of land in any state Territory, nor
can
anyone
who quits or abandons his residence on his own land to reside on
the
public
land in the same state or territory.
But first of all, he or she must have
one
of the following personal qualifications:
The settler must be the head of a family, or a widow, or a single person; must be over the age of 21 years, and be a citizen of the US, or have filed a declaration of intention to become such. Further, the settler must have made a settlement on public land open to preemption, must inhabit and improve the same, and erect a dwelling thereon.
No person can claim a preemption right
more
than once. But the squatter on land which has been surveyed, and
which
he desires to preempt, must file his statement as to the fact of
his
settlement
within three months from the date of his settlement, and he must
make
his
proof and pay for his land within 33 months from the date of his
settlement.
The fee of $1.50 is payable to the register, and a similar fee
to the
receiver
at the land office on filing the declaratory statement above
mentioned.
It should be added here that, if the tract has been offered for
sale by
the government, payment must be made for the preempted land
within 13
months
from the date of settlement. If the squatter desires to obtain a
homestead,
he must come within the following description: the head of a
family, a
citizen of the US, or who duly filed his declaration of
intention to
become
such.
The quality of land thus obtainable is
160
acres, which is, at the time his application is made, open to
preemption,
whether at $1.25 an acre or $2.50 an acre. There was until
recently a
distinction
between land within the limits of railroad or wagon-road grants
or
outside
such limits, but the distinction is now done away. The applicant
has to
make an affidavit, on entering the desired land, that he
possesses the
above qualifications, that the application is made for his
exclusive
use
and benefit, and that his entry is made for the purpose of
actual
settlement
and cultivation. He has also to pay fees of $22 for 160 acres
and of
$11
for 80 acres when entry is made, and $6 when the certificate
issues.
Such
fees apply to land of the $2.50 price. They are reduced to
totals of
$22
for 160 acres and $11 for 80 acres, for land of the $1.25 price.
Before a certificate is given or a
patent
issued for homestead, five years must have elapsed from the date
of
entry.
Affidavit has to be made that the applicant has resided upon or
cultivated
the land for the term of five years immediately succeeding the
time of
filing the affidavit, and that no part of the land has been
alienated.
The patent gives an absolute title. In case of the death of the
squatter
before the title to the preemption or homestead is perfected,
the grant
will be made to the widow, if she continues residence and
complies with
the original conditions; if both father and mother die, leaving
Infant
children, they will be entitled to thwart and fee in the land,
and the
guardian or executor may at any time within two years after the
death
of
the surviving parent, and in accordance with the laws of the
state,
sell
the land for the benefit of the children; and the purchaser may
obtain
the US patent.
From what has been started, it will
seem
that no title to land can be obtained from preemptor or
homesteader who
has not perfected his title. Nothing can be done to carry out
such a
transaction
except for the holder to formally abandon his right, which can
be done
by a simple proceeding at the land office, and for the successor
to
take
the chances of commencing an entirely fresh title for the land
in
question.
Another point to be noticed is that the homestead is not liable
for the
debts of the holder contracted prior to the issuing of the
patent. The
law allows but one homestead privilege:
A settler relinquishing or abandoning his claim can not thereafter make a second homestead entry. If a squatter had settled on land and filed his preemption declaration for the same, he may change his filing into a homestead, if he continues in good faith to comply with the preemption laws until he has been on the land as a preemptor which will be credited to him toward the five years for a homestead.
The above information is obtained from
the
statutes of the US, and is generally applicable. The rates of
fees
given
are those which apply to or, and vary slightly in different
states.
Besides the public lands open to
homestead
and preemption, a squatter may purchase school lands, university
lands,
state lands, or railroad or wagon road grant lands. In each
township of
36 sections of 640 acres each, the two numbered 16 and 36 are
devoted
to
school purposes, and are sold by the Board of School
Commissioners for
the state to squatters in quantities not exceeding 320 acres to
any one
applicant, and at the best prices obtainable; such lands are
valued by
the county school superintendents for the information of the
commissioners,
but the minimum price is $2 an acre. A further number of
sections has
been
granted by the US to the state of Oregon for the support of the
university
and of the agricultural college. The greater part of these lands
has
been
sold; some still remains; the average price of previous sales is
somewhat
under $2 an acre. The state also possesses some further lands
donated
by
the US for various purposes, but the quantity is not
extensive—except
of
lands known as swamp lands. Where the greater portion of a
section is
properly
described as wet and unfit for cultivation, it is called swamp
land.
Such
lands have been granted by the US to the state of Oregon, and
are not
open
to preemption or homesteading. A very free interpretation is put
on the
words "wet and unfit for cultivation," and very large acreage is
included.
The state has given rights of purchase over large bodies of
these lands
to different parties, and at prices which I have heard bear but
a small
portion of their real value. At every session of the legislature
some
fresh
bills are brought in for dealing with the swamp lands, and a
vast
amount
of “lobbying” goes on which I suppose some people in
Southeastern
Oregon,
in the vicinity of the lakes, such as Klamath and Goose lakes;
but a
good
many acres are scattered throughout Eastern and Southern Oregon.
So rapid is the tide of settlement,
especially
in Eastern Oregon, that the land offices are thronged with
applicants.
A young Englishman who came out with me wrote from The Dalles to
us
last
spring that on three successive Fridays he had come in from his
range
to
file his homestead application, and after waiting for the whole
day he
had been unable to get the business done, and had to return to
his
quarters
disappointed.
Democratic Party Formed 1852
The organization of the Democratic
party
in Oregon Territory early in 1852 was a matter of considerable
moment
because
it marked the beginning of local political thinking in terms of
natural
issues. Although, as has been made plain, Americans had forced
the
issue
of Provisional Government and had shaped its course, abating
nothing of
their nationalism except on the occasion when in 1845 the
Applegate
expedient
was resorted to as a compromise with the Hudson's Bay interests,
party
lines as they existed elsewhere in the US were not locally
defined in
the
early days of territorial government. Judge Samuel R. Thurston,
the
first
delegate, was a Democrat, but there was no party organization at
the
time
of his election. When Joseph Lane (March 3, 1849-June 18, 1850),
who
was
a Democrat, in 1851 ran for the place left vacant by Thurston's
death,
his opponent was W. H. Wilson, a former ship carpenter, who had
come
out
with the first reinforcement of Jason Lee's Walamet Mission in
1837,
and
who represented the early missionary hospitality to the Hudson's
Bay
Company,
but he was also a Democrat, so that no party issue was joined
here. By
1852, the opposition to the Whig, John P. Gaines (August 18,
1850-May
16,
1853), who happened to be also a non-resident appointee,
crystallized
into
the form of an organization of the Democratic party, of which
Lane
became
the logical candidate, since he had avoided making political
enemies,
had
a record in public affairs which most of the people approved,
and had a
talent for effective campaigning in the frontier settlements.
The
Democrats
made themselves known as an organization by holding a convention
July
4,
1851, and thereafter by holding caucuses of the Democratic
members of
the
legislature of 1851, at which a central committee was chosen and
James
Willis Nesmith (December 25, 1844-August 9, 1845) was made
chairman.
The
population was preponderantly Democratic since It came
principally from
Democratic states, and the party organization had no difficulty
in
electing
a large majority of the legislature in June 1852. Lane, a little
later,
on the accession of Pres. Franklin Pierce (1804-1869), was a
second
time
appointed a governor of the territory; this was to succeed
Gaines, and
he accepted the appointment as a personal tribute, resigning,
however,
May 19, 1853, three days after displacing Gaines, as it was his
avowed
purpose to become a candidate for delegate to succeed himself.
This
made
George Law Curry (May 19, 1853-December 2, 1853), who had been
appointed
secretary of state by Pierce, and had taken office May 14, 1853,
ex-officio
governor until December 2 of the same year, when Pierce
appointed John
W. Davis (December 2, 1853-August 1, 1854) of Indiana to the
vacant
governorship.
Lane, who was a shrewd politician, counted his chances
accurately, for
he was reelected delegate by a majority of 1570 in a total vote
of 7588
in the election of June, 1853. His chief opponent was Alonzo A.
Skinner
(1866-1867), formerly a supreme court justice under the
Provisional
Government,
a commissioner with Gaines to treat with the Indians in 1851,
and later
agent of the Rogue River tribes. Skinner was nominally a Whig.
He knew
that this was a fact unfavorable to his prospects in the
then-existing
political atmosphere, for the Whigs were not yet organized as a
party
in
Oregon nor were they politically popular, but he proceeded to
attempt
to
disarm partisanship by announcing that he had become a candidate
at the
behest of certain of his fellow citizens without distinction of
party,
and by deprecating partisan strife among neighbors in a new
territory.
Other changes in the local government
came
as a result of Pierce's election as president, among which a
clean
sweep
in the federal judiciary was important because it brought
forward two
men
who were destined for prominence in the affairs of the territory
and
state.
All the federal judges then in office were removed. Supreme
Court
Justice
Orville C. Pratt's (1848-1862) name was first submitted by
Pierce to
the
US Senate as successor to Chief Justice Thomas Nelson
(1850-1853), but
it encountered the personal opposition of Stephen A. Douglas, so
that
George
H. Williams (1853-1858) was named as chief justice instead. The
other
appointee
was Cyrus Olney (1853-1858), a resident of the territory since
1851.
Matthew
P. Deady (1853-1859) was now assigned to the first district,
comprising
the counties of Southern Oregon, Olney to the third district,
originally
composing the northern counties but which had been reduced in
size by
the
creation of Washington Territory (1853-1889), and Williams to
the
remaining
counties. The new judges held one term of court, when Deady was
removed
and Obadiah B. McFadden (1853-1854) arrived with a commission to
serve
in his stead, but the latter was appointed a judge of Washington
Territory
soon after and Judge Deady was reinstated. In order to equalize
the
judicial
burdens, the legislature soon redistricted the territory,
placing
Marion,
Linn, Polk and Benton counties in the district presided over by
Williams;
Clatsop, Clackamas, Washington and Yamhill in Olney’s district;
and the
remaining counties in Deady's district as before. Other federal
offices
filled by appointment of Pierce were: Superintendent of Indian
Affairs,
Joel Palmer; US District Attorney, Benjamin F. Harding; US
Marshal,
James
W. Nesmith; Collector of Customs for the Port of Astoria, John
Adair;
Collector
for the Port of Umpqua, Addison C. Gibbs; Postal Agent, Amos L.
Lovejoy.
An uproar which arose in connection
with
the appointment of Deady was heard from one end of the territory
to the
other. Deady had not much more than taken his place on the bench
in
pursuance
of his appointment when McFadden's arrival with a commission
appointing
him to the same position suddenly deprived Deady of the honor
and
emoluments
he had scarce begun to enjoy. The regularity of the credentials
which
McFadden
produced seemed unquestionable so he qualified and held one term
of
court
in the district. It was found that in the commission issued to
Deady
the
latter's given name was written "Mordecai," whereas, it in fact
was
"Matthew."
In some quarters it was attributed to the machinations of the
Whig
Armory
Holbrook, who was in the East at the time Deady was appointed,
but this
only intensified the feeling that the national administration
was out
of
touch with Oregon affairs. At the time Deady and his group were
in
control
of the Democratic political organization. McFadden was received
with
extreme
coolness and the suggestion was openly conveyed to him that he
ought to
resign. He protested that he had no knowledge that he was to
succeed a
Democrat and that he had believed he was displacing one of the
Whig
appointees.
The party was deeply stirred, but the matter was finally
adjusted by
appointing
McFadden judge for Washington Territory, whereupon Deady was
reappointed
in February 1854, and again took the oath of office and resumed
his
seat
upon the bench. His temperament was that of an advocate rather
than a
judge,
and he was not of a forgiving disposition. He was unable to
withdraw
entirely
from partisan politics and he continued for a long time to bear
a part
of the responsibilities of political management.
The currents of political action now
became
more turbulent as the result of several circumstances, one of
which was
the capable organization of the Democrats, who were dominated by
forceful
characters like Asahel Bush, editor of the Oregon Statesman,
Lafayette
Grover, B. F. Harding, J. W. Nesmith and R. P. Boise, usually
denominated
the "Salem clique." Gov. Davis, for that he was a Democrat, was
unable
to propitiate them, although he profited by the experience of
Gaines
and
sent no messages to the legislature when not asked to do so. Not
even
the
fact that he brought with him $40,000 which Congress had
appropriated
for
the construction of a capitol and a penitentiary sufficed to
establish
him in the good graces of the dominant powers, and he resigned
after
nine
unhappy months in office, in which the Whigs made the most of
the fact
that a Democrat president had refused to recognize the local
demand for
home rule, precisely as Taylor had done in appointing Gaines.
The
governor
enjoyed a reprisal when he declined the proffered honor of a
farewell
banquet
in a public letter in which he tendered the Democrats of Oregon
some
sound
although unsolicited advice.
In Oregon Territory, as in other
territories
of the US, the appointment of non-residents by the government at
Washington
to administer the principle offices of the local government was
a
source
of irritation. In 1851, while Gaines was governor, a public
meeting was
held in Portland at which a resolution was adopted setting forth
that
there are many respectful individuals in Oregon capable of discharging the duties devolving upon the judges, as well as filling any other office under the territorial government, who would either discharge the duties or resign the office.
The territorial legislature in 1851, adopted a memorial asking Congress so to amend the organic act as to permit the people of the territory to elect their own officers. This was not a demand for statehood, but it was very close to that. At the following session an act was adopted, however, by the two Houses and signed by their respective presiding officers January 19 and January 20, 1852, which provided that in the event that Congress should adjourn without acting upon this memorial, the president of the council and the speaker of the House of Representatives should issue a proclamation authorizing a poll to be opened within 60 days thereafter for the purpose of taking a vote of the people upon the question of calling a convention to form a state constitution. Almost at once, therefore, after organization as a territory they young commonwealth began to aspire to statehood and home rule. The arrival of Gov. Davis, with credentials showing his appointment to the principal territorial office, which made it appear that the Democratic national party was no more likely than its Whig predecessor had been to recognize local claim, was the signal for the passage of this legislative act. It met with opposition founded in part belief that the statehood movement was primarily a Democratic scheme to obtain more offices, but also on the real or pretended ground of economy. The Oregonian crystallized the sentiment of the opponents of the measure in an appeal to the people in which it said:
Let them understand that your votes cannot be obtained for a measure, which must inevitably be destructive to the masses of the people merely to pacify the morbid appetites for office and power on the part of a few party hucksters. Tell these office hunters to go to work and earn their bread by the sweat of their brows.
The measure was duly voted on by the people in the election of June 1854, when the proposal for a statehood convention was defeated by a majority of 869. But the agitation was continued, and the proponents of statehood made a better showing in 1855, when 4,420 votes were cast in favor of framing a state constitution and 4,,835 against, a negative majority this time of only 415.

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Early
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