CHAPTER X.

CAPT. HENRY ROEDER ON THE TRAIL.

Capt. Roeder came by steamer to Portland and thence made his way to

Olympia overland from the mouth of the Cowlitz River. This was in the

winter of 1852. The story of this journey is best told in the words of

the veteran pioneer himself, who has narrated his first experiences in

the then Territory of Oregon as follows:

"In company with R. V. Peabody, I traveled overland from the

mouth of the Cowlitz, through the mud to Olympia. We started

early in December from Portland. It took us four days to walk

from the Cowlitz River to Olympia, and it was as hard traveling

as I have ever seen. Old residents will remember what was known

as Sanders' Bottom. It was mud almost to your waist. We stopped

one night with an old settler, whose name I cannot now recall,

but whom we all called in those days 'Old Hardbread.' On the

Skookumchuck we found lodging with Judge Ford, and on arriving at

Olympia we put up with Mr. Sylvester, whose name is well known to

all the old residents on the Sound. I remember that at Olympia we

got our first taste of the Puget Sound clam, and mighty glad we

were, too, to get a chance to eat some of them.

"From Olympia to Seattle we traveled by Indian canoe. I remember

distinctly rounding Alki Point and entering the harbor of Elliott

Bay. I saw what was, perhaps, the first house that was built,

where now stands the magnificent city of Seattle. This was a

cabin that was being erected on a narrow strip of land jutting

out into the bay, which is now right in the heart of Seattle. Dr.

Maynard was the builder. It was situated adjoining the lot at

Commercial and Main Streets, occupied by the old Arlington just

before the fire of 1889. The waters of the Sound lapped the

shores of the narrow peninsula upon which it was built, but since

then the waters have been driven back by the filling of earth,

sawdust and rock, which was put on both sides of the little neck

of land.

"After a few days' stay here, Peabody and I journeyed by Indian

canoe to Whatcom. We carried our canoe overland to Hood Canal. On

the second day out we encountered a terrible storm and put into

shelter with a settler on the shore of the canal. His name was

O'Haver, and he lived with an Indian wife. We had white turnips

and dried salmon for breakfast and dried salmon and white turnips

for dinner. This bill of fare was repeated in this fashion for

three days, and I want to tell you that we were glad when the

weather moderated and we were enabled to proceed.

"We were told that we could procure something in the edible line

at Port Townsend, but were disappointed. The best we could

obtain at the stores was some hard bread, in which the worms had

propagated in luxuriant fashion. This food was not so

particularly appetizing, as you may imagine. A settler kindly

took pity on us and shared his slender stock of food. Thence we

journeyed to Whatcom, where I have resided nearly ever since."

Capt. Roeder told also before he had finished his recital of an

acquaintance he had formed in California with the noted Spanish murderer

and bandit, Joaquin, and his tribe of cutthroats and robbers. Joaquin's

raids and his long career in crime among the mining camps of the early

days of California are part of the history of that state. Capt. Roeder

was traveling horseback on one occasion between Marysville and Rush

Creek. This was in 1851. The night before he left Marysville the sheriff

and a posse had attempted to capture Joaquin and his band. The

authorities had offered a reward of $10,000 for Joaquin and $5,000 for

his men, dead or alive. The sheriff went out from Marysville with a

cigar in his mouth and his sombrero on the side of his head, as if he

were attending a picnic. It was his own funeral, however, instead of a

picnic, for his body was picked out of a fence corner, riddled with

bullets.

"I was going at a leisurely gait over the mountain road or bridle

path that led from Marysville to Rush Creek," said Capt. Roeder.

"Suddenly, after a bend in the road, I found myself in the midst

of a band of men mounted on bronchos. They were dark-skinned and

of Spanish blood. Immediately I recognized Joaquin and

'Three-Fingered Jack,' his first lieutenant. My heart thumped

vigorously, and I thought that it was all up with me. I managed

somehow to control myself and did not evince any of the

excitement I felt or give the outlaws any sign that I knew or

suspected who they were.

"One of the riders, after saluting me in Spanish, asked me where

I was from and whither I was traveling. I told them freely and

frankly, as if the occurrence were an everyday transaction.

Learning that I had just come from Marysville, the seat of their

last outrage, they inquired the news. I told them the truth--that

the camp was in a state of great excitement, due to the late

visit of the outlaw, Joaquin, and his band; that the sheriff had

been murdered and three or four miners and others in the vicinity

had been murdered and robbed. It was Joaquin's pleasant practice

to lariat a man, rob him and cut his throat, leaving the body by

the roadside. They asked me which way Joaquin had gone and I told

them that he was seen last traveling towards Arizona. As a matter

of fact, the outlaw and his band were then traveling in a

direction exactly opposite from that which I had given.

"My replies apparently pleased them. 'Three-Fingered Jack'

proposed a drink, after asking me which way I traveled. I said,

'I would have proposed the compliment long ago had I any in my

canteen,' whereat Jack drew his own bottle and offered me a

drink.

"You may imagine my feelings then. I knew that if they believed I

had recognized them they would give me poison or kill me with a

knife. I took the canteen and drank from it. You may imagine my

joy when I saw Jack lift the bottle to his lips and drain it.

Then I knew that I had deceived them. We exchanged adieus in

Spanish, and that is the last I saw of Joaquin and his associate

murderers."

PART II.

MEN, WOMEN AND ADVENTURES

CHAPTER I.

SONG OF THE PIONEERS.

With faith's clear eye we saw afar

In western sky our empire's star

And strong of heart and brave of soul,

We marched and marched to reach the goal.

Unrolled a scroll, the great gray plains,

And traced thereon our wagon trains,

Our blazing campfires marked the road

As each succeeding night they glowed.

Gaunt hunger, drouth, fierce heat and cold

Beset us as in days of old

Great dragons sought to swallow down

Adventurous heroes of renown.

There menaced us our tawny foes,

Where any bank or hillock rose;

A cloud of dust or shadows' naught

Seemed ever with some danger fraught.

Weird mountain ranges crossed our path

And frowned on us in seeming wrath;

Their beetling crags and icy brows

Well might a hundred fears arouse.

Impetuous rivers swirled and boiled,

As though from mischief ever foiled.

At length in safety all were crossed,

Though roughly were our "schooners" tossed.

With joy we saw fair Puget Sound,

White, glistening peaks set all around.

At Alki Point our feet we stayed,

(The women wept, the children played).

On Chamber's prairie, Whidby's isle,

Duwamish river, mile on mile

Away from these, on lake or bay

The lonely settlers blazed the way

For civilization's march and sway.

The mountains, forests, bays and streams,

Their grandeur wove into our dreams;

Our thoughts grew great and undismayed,

We toiled and sang or waiting, prayed.

As suns arose and then went down

We gazed on Rainier's snowy crown.

God's battle-tents gleamed in the west,

So pure they called our thoughts above

To heaven's joy and peace and love.

We found a race tho' rude and wild,

Still tender toward friend or child,

For dark eyes laughed or shone with tears

As joy or sorrow filled the years;

Their black-eyed babes the red men kissed

And captive brothers sorely missed.

With broken hearts, brown mothers wept

When babes away by death were swept.

Chief Sealth stood the white man's friend,

With insight keen he saw the end

Of struggles vain against a foe

Whose coming forced their overthrow.

For pity oft he freed the slaves,

To reasoning cool he called his braves;

But bitter wrongs the pale-face wrought--

Revenge and hatred on us brought.

* * * * *

With life the woods and waters teemed,

A boundless store we never dreamed,

Of berries, deer and grouse and fish,

Sufficient for a gourmand's wish.

Our dusky neighbors friendly-wise

Brought down the game before our eyes;

They wiled the glittering finny tribe,

Well pleased to trade with many a jibe.

We lit the forests far and wide

With pitchwood torches, true and tried,

We traveled far in frail canoes,

Cayuses rode, wore Indian shoes,

And clothes of skin, and ate clam stews,

Clam frys and chowder; baked or fried

The clam was then the settler's pride;

"Clam-diggers" then, none dared deride.

* * * * *

A sound arose our hearts to thrill,

From whirring saws in Yesler's mill;

The village crept upon the hill.

On many hills our city's spread,

As fair a queen as one that wed

The Adriatic, so 'tis said.

Our tasks so hard are well nigh done--

Today our hearts will beat as one!

Each one may look now to the west

For end of days declared the best,

Since sunset here is sunrise there,

Our heavenly home is far more fair.

As up the slope of coming years

Time pushes on the pioneers,

With peace may e'er our feet be shod

And press at last the mount of God.

E. I. DENNY.

Seattle, June, 1893.

CHAPTER II.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES AND SKETCHES.

JOHN DENNY.

As elsewhere indicated, only a few of the leading characters will be

followed in their careers. Of these, John Denny is fittingly placed

first.

John Denny was born of pioneer parents near Lexington, Kentucky, May

4th, 1793. In 1813 he was a volunteer in Col. Richard M. Johnson's

regiment of mounted riflemen, and served through the war, participated

in the celebrated battle of the Thames in Canada, where Tecumseh was

killed and the British army under Proctor surrendered. Disaster fell

upon him, the results of which followed him throughout his life. The

morning gun stampeded the horses in camp while the soldiers were still

asleep, and they ran over John Denny where he lay asleep in a tent,

wounding his knee so that the synovial fluid ran out and also broke

three of his ribs. In 1823 he removed to Putnam County, Indiana, then an

unknown wilderness, locating six miles east of Greencastle, where he

resided for the succeeding twelve years. He is remembered as a leading

man of energy and public spirit.

In 1835 he removed to Illinois and settled in Knox County, then near the

frontier of civilization, where he lived for the next succeeding

sixteen years, during which time he represented his county in both

branches of the state legislature, serving with Lincoln, Douglas, Baker,

Yates, Washburn and Trumbull, with all of whom he formed warm personal

friendships, which lasted through life, despite political differences.

In 1851, at an age when most men think they have outlived their

usefulness and seek the repose demanded by their failing physical

strength, accompanied by his children and grandchildren, he braved the

toils and perils of an overland journey to this then remote wilderness

upon the extreme borders of civilization and settled upon a farm in

Marion County, Oregon, while his sons, Arthur A. and David T., took

claims on Elliott Bay and were among the founders of Seattle, where they

command universal respect for their intelligence, integrity and public

spirit, Arthur having represented the territory as delegate in congress

and served several terms in the Territorial Legislature.

David has held many responsible public positions, including Probate

Judge and Regent of the University, and is respected by all as a

clear-headed and scrupulously honest man and most estimable citizen.

John Denny remained in Oregon about six years, but held no official

position there, for the reason that he was an uncompromising Whig and

Oregon was overwhelmingly Democratic, including among the leaders of

the Democratic party George H. Williams, Judge Deady, Gov. Gibbs and

much of the best intellect of the state.

He, however, entered warmly into the political discussions of the times,

and many incidents are remembered and many anecdotes told of the

astonishment and discomfiture of some of the most pretentious public

speakers when meeting the unpretending pioneer farmer in public

discussion. He was a natural orator and had improved his gift by

practice and extensive reading.

Few professional men were better posted in current history and

governmental philosophy or could make a better use of their knowledge in

addressing a popular audience.

In 1859 he removed to Seattle, and from that time on to the day of his

death was a recognized leader in every enterprise calculated to promote

the prosperity of the town or advance its educational and social

interests. No public measure, no public meeting to consider public

enterprise, was a success in which he was not a central figure, not as

an assumed director, but as an earnest co-operator, who enthused others

by his own undaunted spirit of enterprise, and when past eighty years of

age his voice was heard stirring up the energies of the people, and by

his example, no less than his precepts, he shamed the listless and

selfish younger men into activity and public spirit.

When any special legislative aid was desired for this section, John

Denny was certain to be selected to obtain it; by his efforts mainly the

Territorial University was located at this place.

He passed his long and active life almost wholly upon the frontiers of

civilization, not from any aversion to the refinements and restraints of

social life, for few men possessed higher social qualities or had in any

greater degree the nicer instincts of a gentleman--he held a patent of

nobility under the signet of the Almighty, and his intercourse with

others was ever marked by a courtesy which betokened not only

self-respect but a due regard for the rights and opinions of others. He

was impelled by as noble ambition as ever sought the conquest of empire

or the achievement of personal glory--the subduing of the unoccupied

portions of his country to the uses of man, with the patriotic purpose

of extending his country's glory and augmenting its resources.

His first care in every settlement was to establish and promote

education, religion and morality as the only true foundation of social

as well as individual prosperity, and with all his courage and manly

strength he rarely, if ever, was drawn into a lawsuit.

John Denny was of that noble race of men, now nearly extinct, who formed

the vanguard of Western civilization and were the founders of empire.

Their day is over, their vocation ended, because the limit of their

enterprise has been reached. Among the compeers of the same stock were

Dick Johnson, Harrison, Lincoln, Harden and others famous in the history

of the country, who only excelled him in historic note by biding their

opportunities in waiting to reap the fruits of the harvest which they

had planted. He was the peer of the best in all the elements of manhood,

of heart and brain. In all circumstances and surroundings he was a

recognized leader of men, and would have been so honored and so

commanded that leading place in public history had he waited for the

development of the social institutions which he helped to plant in the

Western states, now the seat of empire. All who entered his presence

were instinctively impressed by his manhood. Yet no man was less

pretentious or more unostentatious in his intercourse with others.

He reverenced his manhood, and felt himself here among men his brethren

under the eye of a common Father.

He felt that he was bound to work for all like a brother and like a son.

So he was brave, so he was true, so his integrity was unsullied, so not

a stain dims his memory; so he rebuked vice and detested meanness and

hated with a cordial hate all falsehood, all dishonesty and all

trickery; so he was the chivalrous champion of the innocent and

oppressed; so he was gentle and merciful, because he was working among

a vast family as a brother "recognizing the Great Father, Who sits over

all, Who is forever Truth and forever Love."

Such words as these were said of him at the time of his death, when the

impressions of his personality were fresh in the minds of the people.

He entered into rest July 28th, 1875.

It is within my recollection that the keen criticisms and droll

anecdotes of John Denny were often repeated by his hearers. The power

with which he swayed an audience was something wonderful to behold; the

burning enthusiasm which his oratory kindled, inciting to action, the

waves of convulsive laughter his wit evoked were abundant evidence of

his influence.

In repartee, he excelled. At one time when A. A. Denny was a member of

the Territorial Legislature, John Denny was on his way to the capital to

interview him, doubtless concerning some important measure; he received

the hospitality of a settler who was a stranger to him and moreover very

curious with regard to the traveler's identity and occupation. At last

this questioning brought forth the remarkable statement that he, John

Denny, had a son in the lunatic ass-ylum in Olympia whom he intended

visiting.

The questioner delightedly related it afterward, laughing heartily at

the compliment paid to the Legislature.

In a published sketch a personal friend says: "He was so full of humor

that it was impossible to conceal it, and his very presence became a

mirth-provoking contagion absolutely irresistible in its effects.

"Let him come when he would, everybody was ready to drop everything else

to listen to a story from Uncle John.

"He went home to the States during the war, via the Isthmus of Panama.

On the trip down from San Francisco the steamer ran on a rock and stuck

fast. Of course, there was a great fright and excitement, many crying

out 'We shall all be drowned,' 'Lord save us!' etc. Amid it all Uncle

John coolly took in the chances of the situation, and when a little

quiet had been restored so he could be heard by all in the cabin, he

said: 'Well, I reckon there was a fair bargain between me and the

steamship company to carry me down to Panama, and they've got their cash

for it, and now if they let me drown out here in this ornery corner,

where I can't have a decent funeral, I'll sue 'em for damages, and bust

the consarned old company all to flinders.'

"This had the effect to divert the passengers, and helped to prevent a

panic, and not a life was lost.

"In early life he had been a Whig and in Illinois had fought many a hard

battle with the common enemy. He had represented his district repeatedly

in the legislature of that state, and he used to tell with pride, and a

good deal of satisfaction, how one day a handful of the Whigs, Old Abe

and himself among the number, broke a quorum of the house by jumping

from a second-story window, thereby preventing the passage of a bill

which was obnoxious to the Whigs.

"The Democrats had been watching their opportunity, and having secured a

quorum with but few of the Whigs in the house, locked the doors and

proposed to put their measure through. But the Whigs nipped the little

game in the manner related."

After Lincoln had become President and John Denny had crossed the Plains

and pioneered it in Oregon and Washington Territories, the latter

visited the national capital on important business.

While there Mr. Denny attended a presidential reception and tested his

old friend's memory in this way: Forbidding his name to be announced, he

advanced in the line and gave his hand to President Lincoln, then

essayed to pass on. Lincoln tightened his grasp and said, "No you don't,

John Denny; you come around back here and we'll have a talk after a

while."

On the stump he was perfectly at home, never coming off second best. His

ready wit and tactics were sure to stand him in hand at the needed

moment.

[Illustration: SARAH DENNY, JOHN DENNY, S. LORETTA DENNY]

In one of the early campaigns of Washington Territory, which was a

triangular combat waged by Republicans, Democrats and "Bolters," John

Denny, who was then a Republican, became one of the third party. At a

political meeting which was held in Seattle, at which I was present, a

young man recently from the East and quite dandyish, a Republican and a

lawyer, made quite a high-sounding speech; after he sat down John Denny

advanced to speak.

He began very coolly to point out how they had been deceived by the

rascally Republican representative in his previous term of office, and

suddenly pointing his long, lean forefinger directly at the preceding

speaker, his voice gathering great force and intensity, he electrified

the audience by saying, "And no little huckleberry lawyer can blind us

to the facts in the case."

The audience roared, the "huckleberry lawyer's" face was scarlet and his

curly locks fairly bristled with embarrassment. The hearers were

captivated and listened approvingly to a round scoring of the opponents

of the "bolters."

He was a fearless advocate of temperance, or prohibition rather, of

woman suffragists when they were weak, few and scoffed at, an

abolitionist and a determined enemy of tobacco. I have seen him take his

namesake among the grandchildren between his aged knees and say, "Don't

ever eat tobacco, John; your grandfather wishes he had never touched

it." His oft-repeated advice was heeded by this grandson, who never

uses it in any form.

He was tall, slender, with snow-white hair and a speaking countenance

full of the most glowing intelligence.

When the news came to the little village of Seattle that he had returned

from Washington City, where he had been laboring to secure an

appropriation for the Territorial University, two of his little

grandchildren ran up the hill to meet him; he took off his high silk

hat, his silvery hair shining in the fair sunlight and smiled a

greeting, as they grasped either hand and fairly led him to their home.

A beautiful tribute from the friend before quoted closes this brief and

inadequate sketch:

"He sleeps out yonder midway between the lakes (Washington and

Union), where the shadows of the Cascades in the early morning

fall upon the rounded mound of earth that marks his resting

place, and the shadows of the Olympics in the early evening rest

lovingly and caressingly on the same spot; there, where the song

birds of the forest and the wild flowers and gentle zephyrs,

laden with the perfume of the fir and cedar, pay a constant

tribute to departed goodness and true worth."

SARAH LATIMER DENNY.

The subject of this sketch was a Tennessean of an ancestry notable for

staying qualities, religious steadfastness and solid character, as well

as gracious and kindly bearing.

On her father's side she traced descent from the martyr, Hugh Latimer,

and although none of the name have been called to die at the stake in

the latter days, Washington Latimer, nephew of Sarah Latimer Denny, was

truly a martyr to principle, dying in Andersonville prison during the

Rebellion.

The prevailing sentiment of the family was patriotic and strongly in

favor of the abolition movement.

One of the granddaughters pleasurably recalls the vision of Joseph

Latimer, father of Sarah, sitting in his dooryard, under the boughs of a

great Balm of Gilead tree, reading his Bible.

Left to be the helper of her mother when very young, by the marriage of

her elder sister, she quickly became a competent manager in household

affairs, sensible of her responsibilities, being of a grave and quiet

disposition.

She soon married a young Baptist minister, Richard Freeman Boren, whose

conversion and call to the ministry were clear and decided. His first

sermon was preached in the sitting room of a private house, where were

assembled, among others, a number of his gay and pleasure-loving

companions, whom he fearlessly exhorted to a holy life.

His hands were busy with his trade of cabinetmaking a part of the time,

for the support of his family, although he rode from place to place to

preach.

A few years of earnest Christian work, devoted affection and service to

his family and he passed away to his reward, leaving the young widow

with three little children, the youngest but eighteen months old.

In her old age she often reverted to their brief, happy life together,

testifying that he never spoke a cross word to her.

She told of his premonition of death and her own remarkable dream

immediately preceding that event.

While yet in apparently perfect health he disposed of all his tools,

saying that he would not need them any more.

One night, toward morning, she dreamed that she saw a horse saddled and

bridled at the gate and some one said to her that she must mount and

ride to see her husband, who was very sick; she obeyed, in her dream,

riding over a strange road, crossing a swollen stream at one point.

At daylight she awoke; a horse with side-saddle on was waiting and a

messenger called her to go to her husband, as he was dangerously ill at

a distant house. Exactly as in her dream she was conducted, she

traversed the road and crossed the swollen stream to reach the place

where he lay, stricken with a fatal malady.

After his death she returned to her father's house, but the family

migrated from Tennessee to Illinois, spent their first winter in

Sangamon County, afterward settling in Knox County.

There the brave young pioneer took up her abode in a log cabin on a

piece of land which she purchased with the proceeds of her own hard

toil.

The cabin was built without nails, of either oak or black walnut logs,

it is not now known, with oak clapboards, braces and weight-poles and

puncheon floor. There was one window without glass, a stick and clay

mortar chimney, and a large, cheerful fireplace where the backlogs and

fore-sticks held pyramids of dancing, ruddy flames, and the good cooking

was done in the good old way.

By industry and thrift everything was turned to account. The ground was

made to yield wheat, corn and flax; the last was taken through the whole

process of manufacture into bed and table linen on the spot. Sheep were

raised, the wool sheared, carded, spun, dyed and woven, all by hand, by

this indefatigable worker, just as did many others of her time.

They made almost every article of clothing they wore, besides cloth for

sale.

Great, soft, warm feather beds comforted them in the cold Illinois

winters, the contents of which were plucked from the home flock of

geese.

As soon as the children were old enough, they assisted in planting corn

and other crops.

The domestic supplies were almost entirely of home production and

manufacture. Soap for washing owed its existence to the ash-hopper and

scrap-kettle, and the soap-boiling was an important and necessary

process. The modern housewife would consider herself much afflicted if

she had to do such work.

And the sugar-making, which had its pleasant side, the sugar camp and

its merry tenants.

About half a mile from the cabin stood the sugar maple grove to which

this energetic provider went to tap the trees, collect the sap and

finally boil the same until the "sugaring off." A considerable event it

was, with which they began the busy season.

One of the daughters of Sarah Latimer Denny remembers that when a little

child she went with her mother to the sugar camp where they spent the

night. Resting on a bed of leaves, she listened to her mother as she

sang an old camp meeting hymn, "Wrestling Jacob," while she toiled,

mending the fire and stirring the sap, all night long under dim stars

sprinkled in the naked branches overhead.

Other memories of childish satisfaction hold visions of the early

breakfast when "Uncle John" came to see his widowed sister, who, with

affectionate hospitality, set the "Johnny-cake" to bake on a board

before the fire, made chocolate, fried the chicken and served them with

snowy biscuits and translucent preserves.

For the huge fireplace, huge lengths of logs, for the backlogs, were

cut, which required three persons to roll in place.

Cracking walnuts on the generous hearth helped to beguile the long

winter evenings. A master might have beheld a worthy subject in the

merry children and their mother thus occupied.

If other light were needed than the ruddy gleams the fire gave, it was

furnished by a lard lamp hung by a chain and staple in the wall, or one

of a pallid company of dipped candles.

Sometimes there were unwelcome visitors bent on helping themselves to

the best the farm afforded; one day a wolf chased a chicken up into the

chimney corner of the Boren cabin, to the consternation of the small

children. Wolves also attacked the sheep alongside the cabin at the very

moment when one of the family was trying to catch some lambs; such

savage boldness brought hearty and justifiable screams from the young

shepherdess thus engaged.

The products of the garden attached to this cabin are remembered as

wonderful in richness and variety; the melons, squashes, pumpkins, etc.,

the fragrant garden herbs, the dill and caraway seeds for the famous

seedcakes carried in grandmothers' pockets or "reticules." In addition

to these, the wild fruits and game; haws, persimmons, grapes, plums,

deer and wild turkey; the medicinal herbs, bone-set and blood-root; the

nut trees heavily laden in autumn, all ministered to the comfort and

health of the pioneers.

The mistress was known for her generous hospitality then, and throughout

her life. In visiting and treating the sick she distanced educated

practitioners in success. Never a violent partisan, she was yet a

steadfast friend. One daughter has said that she never knew any one who

came so near loving her neighbor as herself. Just, reasonable, kind,

ever ready with sympathetic and wholesome advice, it was applicably said

of her, "She openeth her mouth with wisdom and in her tongue is the law

of kindness."

As the years went by the children were sent to school, the youngest

becoming a teacher.

Toilsome years they were, but doubtless full of rich reward.

Afterward, while yet in the prime of life, she married John Denny, a

Kentuckian and pioneer of Indiana, Illinois and finally of Oregon and

Washington.

With this new alliance new fields of effort and usefulness opened before

her. The unusual occurrence of a widowed mother and her two daughters

marrying a widower and his two sons made this new tie exceeding strong.

With them, as before stated, she crossed the plains and "pioneered it"

in Oregon among the Waldo Hills, from whence she moved to Seattle on

Puget Sound with her husband and little daughter, Loretta Denny, in

1859.

The shadow of pioneer days was scarcely receding, the place was a little

straggling village and much remained of beginnings. As before in all

other places, her busy hands found much to do; many a pair of warm

stockings and mittens from her swift needles found their way into the

possession of the numerous grand and great-grandchildren. In peaceful

latter days she sat in a cozy corner with knitting basket at hand, her

Bible in easy reach.

Her mind was clear and vigorous and she enjoyed reading and conversing

upon topics old and new.

Her cottage home with its blooming plants, of which "Grandmother's

calla," with its frequent, huge, snowy spathes, was much admired,

outside the graceful laburnum tree and sweet-scented roses, was a place

that became a Mecca to the tired feet and weary hearts of her kins-folk

and acquaintances.

With devoted, filial affection her youngest daughter, S. Loretta Denny,

remained with her until she entered into rest, February 10th, 1888.

CHAPTER III.

DAVID THOMAS DENNY.

David Thomas Denny was the first of the name to set foot upon the shores

of Puget Sound. Born in Putnam County, Indiana, March 17th, 1832, he was

nineteen years of age when he crossed the plains with his father's

company in 1851. He is a descendant of an ancient family, English and

Scotch, who moved to Ireland and thence to America, settling in Berk's

County, Pa. His father was John Denny, a notable man in his time, a

soldier of 1812, and a volunteer under William Henry Harrison.

The long, rough and toilsome journey across the plains was a schooling

for the subsequent trials of pioneer life. Young as he was, he stood in

the very forefront, the outmost skirmish line of his advancing

detachment of the great army moving West. The anxious watch, the

roughest toil, the reconnaissance fell to his lot. He drove a four-horse

team, stood guard at night, alternately sleeping on the ground, under

the wagon, hunted for game to aid in their sustenance, and, briefly,

served his company in many ways with the energy and faithfulness which

characterized his subsequent career.

With his party he reached Portland in August, 1851; from thence, with J.

N. Low, he made his way to Olympia on Puget Sound, where he arrived

footsore and weary, they having traveled on foot the Hudson Bay

Company's trail from the Columbia River. From Olympia, with Low, Lee

Terry, Captain Fay and others, he journeyed in an open boat to Duwampsh

Head, which has suffered many changes of name, where they camped,

sleeping under the boughs of a great cedar tree the first night,

September 25th, 1851.

The next day Denny, Terry and Low made use of the skill and knowledge of

the native inhabitants by hiring two young Indians to take them up the

Duwampsh River in their canoe. He was left to spend the following night

with the two Indians, as his companions had wandered so far away that

they could not return, but remained at an Indian camp farther up the

river. On the 28th they were reunited and returned to their first camp,

from which they removed the same day to Alki Point.

A cabin was commenced and after a time, Low and Terry returned to

Portland, leaving David Thomas Denny, nineteen years of age, the only

white person on Elliott Bay. There were then swarms of Indians on the

Sound.

For three weeks he held this outpost of civilization, a part of the time

being far from well. So impressed was he with the defenselessness of the

situation that he expressed himself as "sorry" when his friends landed

from the schooner "Exact" at Alki Point on the 13th of November, 1851.

No doubt realizing that an irretrievable step had been taken, he tried

to reassure them by explaining that "the cabin was unfinished and that

they would not be comfortable." Many incidents of his early experience

are recorded in this volume elsewhere.

He was married on the 23rd of January, 1853, to Miss Louisa Boren, one

of the most intelligent, courageous and devoted of pioneer women. They

were the first white couple married in Seattle. He was an explorer of

the eastern side of Elliott Bay, but was detained at home in the cabin

by lameness occasioned by a cut on his foot, when A. A. Denny, W. N.

Bell and C. D. Boren took their claims, so had fourth choice.

For this reason his claim awaited the growth of the town of Seattle many

years, but finally became very valuable.

It was early discovered by the settlers that he was a conscientious man;

so well established was this fact that he was known by the sobriquet of

"Honest Dave."

Like all the other pioneers, he turned his hand to any useful thing that

was available, cutting and hewing timber for export, clearing a farm,

hauling wood, tending cattle, anything honorable; being an advocate of

total abstinence and prohibition, _he never kept a saloon_.

He has done all in his power to discountenance the sale and use of

intoxicants, the baleful effects of which were manifest among both

whites and Indians.

Every movement in the early days seems to have been fraught with danger.

D. T. Denny traveled in a canoe with two Indians from the Seattle

settlement in July, 1852, to Bush's Prairie, back of Olympia, to

purchase cattle for A. A. Denny, carrying two hundred dollars in gold

for that purpose. He risked his life in so doing, as he afterward

learned that the Indians thought of killing him and taking the money,

but for some unknown reason decided not to do the deed.

He was a volunteer during the Indian war of 1855-6, in Company C, and

with his company was not far distant when Lieut. Slaughter was killed,

with several others. Those who survived the attack were rescued by this

company.

On the morning of the battle of Seattle, he was standing guard near Fort

Decatur; the most thrilling moment of the day to him was probably that

in which he helped his wife and child into the fort as they fled from

the Indians.

Although obliged to fight the Indians in self-defense in their warlike

moods, yet he was ever their true friend and esteemed by them as such.

He learned to speak the native tongue fluently, in such manner as to be

able to converse with all the neighboring tribes, and unnumbered times,

through years of disappointment, sorrow and trouble, they sought his

advice and sympathy.

For a quarter of a century the hand-to-hand struggle went on by the

pioneer and his family, to conquer the wilds, win a subsistence and

obtain education.

By thrift and enterprise they attained independence, and as they went

along helped to lay the foundations of many institutions and enterprises

of which the commonwealth is now justly proud.

David Thomas Denny possessed the gifts and abilities of a typical

pioneer; a good shot, his trusty rifle provided welcome articles of

food; he could make, mend and invent useful and necessary things for

pioneer work; it was a day, in fact, when "Adam delved" and "Eve" did

likewise, and no man was too fine a "gentleman" to do any sort of work

that was required.

Having the confidence of the community, he was called upon to fill many

positions of trust; he was a member of the first Board of Trustees of

Seattle, Treasurer of King County, Regent of the Territorial University,

Probate Judge, School Director, etc., etc.

Although a Republican and an abolitionist, he did not consider every

Democrat a traitor, and thereby incurred the enmity of some. Party

feeling ran high.

At that time (during the Rebellion) there stood on Pioneer Place in

Seattle a very tall flagstaff. Upon the death of a prominent Democrat

it was proposed to half-mast the flag on this staff, but during the

night the halyards were cut, it was supposed by a woman, at the

instigation of her husband and others, but the friends of the deceased

hired "Billie" Fife, a well-known cartoonist and painter, to climb to

the top and rig a new rope, a fine sailor feat, for which he received

twenty dollars.

The first organizer of Good Templar Lodges was entertained at Mr.

Denny's house, and he, with several of the family, became charter

members of the first organization on October 4th, 1866. He was the first

chaplain of the first lodge of I. O. G. T. organized in Seattle.

In after years the subject of this sketch became prominent in the

Prohibition movement; it was suggested to him at one time that he permit

his name to be used as Prohibition candidate for Governor of the State

of Washington, but the suggestion was never carried out. He would have

considered it an honor to be defeated in a good cause.

He also became a warm advocate of equal suffrage, and at both New York

and Omaha M. E. general conferences he heartily favored the admission of

women lay delegates, and much regretted the adverse decision by those in

authority.

The old pioneers were and are generally broad, liberal and progressive

in their ideas and principles; they found room and opportunity to think

and act with more freedom than in the older centers of civilization,

consequently along every line they are in the forefront of modern

thought.

For its commercial development, Seattle owes much to David Thomas Denny,

and others like him, in perhaps a lesser degree. In the days of small

beginnings, he recognized the possibilities of development in the little

town so fortunately located. His hard-earned wealth, energy and talents

have been freely given to make the city of the present as well as that

which it will be.

D. T. Denny made a valuable gift to the city of Seattle in a plot of

land in the heart of the best residence portion of the city. Many years

ago it was used as a cemetery, but was afterward vacated and is now a

park. He landed on the site of Seattle with twenty-five cents in his

pocket. His acquirement of wealth after years of honest work was

estimated at three million.

Not only his property, money, thought and energy have gone into the

building up of Seattle, but hundreds of people, newly arrived, have

occupied his time in asking information and advice in regard to their

settling in the West.

[Illustration: DAVID THOMAS DENNY]

He was president of the first street railway company of Seattle, and

afterward spent thousands of dollars on a large portion of the system of

cable and electric roads of which the citizens of Seattle are wont to

boast, unknowing, careless or forgetting that what is their daily

convenience impoverished those who built, equipped and operated them. He

and his company owned and operated for a time the Consolidated Electric

road to North Seattle, Cedar Street and Green Lake; the cable road to

Queen Anne Hill, and built and equipped the "Third Street and Suburban"

electric road to the University and Ravenna Park.

The building and furnishing of a large sawmill with the most approved

modern machinery, the establishing of an electric light plant,

furnishing a water supply to a part of the city, and in many other

enterprises he was actively engaged.

For many years he paid into the public treasury thousands of dollars for

taxes on his unimproved, unproductive real estate, a considerable

portion of which was unjustly required and exacted, as it was impossible

to have sold the property at its assessed valuation. As one old settler

said, he paid "robber taxes."

When, in the great financial panic that swept over the country in 1893,

he obtained a loan of the city treasurer and mortgaged to secure it real

estate worth at least three times the sum borrowed, the mob cried out

against him and sent out his name as one who had robbed the city,

forsooth!

This was not the only occasion when the canaille expressed their

disapproval.

Previous to, and during the anti-Chinese riot in Seattle, which occurred

on Sunday, February 7th, 1886, he received a considerable amount of

offensive attention. In the dark district of Seattle, there gathered one

day a forerunner of the greater mob which created so much disturbance,

howling that they would burn him out. "We'll burn his barn," they

yelled, their provocation being that he employed Chinese house servants

and rented ground to Mongolian gardeners. The writer remembers that it

was a fine garden, in an excellent state of cultivation. No doubt many

of the agitators themselves had partaken of the products thereof many

times, it being one of the chief sources of supply of the city.

The threats were so loud and bitter against the friends of the Chinese

that it was felt necessary to post a guard at his residence. The eldest

son was in Oregon, attending the law school of the University; the next

one, D. Thos. Denny, Jr., not yet of age, served in the militia during

the riot; the third and youngest remained at home ready to help defend

the same. The outlook was dark, but after some serious remarks

concerning the condition of things, Mr. Denny went up stairs and brought

down his Winchester rifle, stood it in a near corner and calmly resumed

his reading. As he had dealt with savages before, he stood his ground.

At a notorious trial of white men for unprovoked murder of Chinese, it

was brought out that "Mr. David Denny, he 'fliend' (friend) of Chinese,

Injun and Nigger."

During the time that his great business called for the employment of a

large force of men, he was uniformly kind to them, paying the highest

market price for their labor. Some were faithful and honest, some were

not; instead of its being a case of "greedy millionaire," it was a case

of just the opposite thing, as it was well known that he was robbed time

and again by dishonest employes.

When urged to close down his mill, as it was running behind, he said "I

can't do it, it will throw a hundred men out of employment and their

families will suffer." So he borrowed money, paying a ruinous rate of

interest, and kept on, hoping that business would improve; it did not

and the mill finally went under. A good many employes who received the

highest wages for the shortest hours, struck for more, and others were

full of rage when the end came and there were only a few dollars due on

their wages.

Neither was he a "heartless landlord," the heartlessness was on the

other side, as numbers of persons sneaked off without paying their rent,

and many built houses, the lumber in which was never paid for.

According to their code it was not _stealing_ to rob a person supposed

to be wealthy.

The common remark was, "Old Denny can stand it, he's got lots of money."

The anarchist-communistic element displayed their strength and venom in

many ways in those days. They heaped abuse on those, who unfortunately

for themselves, employed men, and bit the hand that fed them.

Their cry was "Death to Capitalists!" They declared their intention at

one time of hanging the leading business men of Seattle, breaking the

vaults of the bank open, burning the records and dividing lands and

money among themselves. But the reign of martial law at the culmination

of their heroic efforts in the Anti-Chinese riot, brought them to their

senses, the history of which period may be told in another chapter.

From early youth, David Thomas Denny was a faithful member of the M. E.

Church, serving often in official capacity and rendering valuable

assistance, with voice, hand and pocketbook. Twice he was sent as lay

delegate to the General Conference, a notable body of representative

men, of which he was a member in 1888 and again in 1892.

The conference of 1888 met in New York City and held its sessions at the

Metropolitan Opera House. His family accompanied him, crossing the

continent by the Canadian Pacific R. R. by way of Montreal to New York.

In the latter place, they met their first great sorrow, in the death,

after a brief illness, of the beloved youngest daughter, the return and

her burial in her native land by the sundown seas. Soon followed other

days of sadness and trial; in less than a year, the second daughter,

born in Fort Decatur, passed away, and others of the family, hovered on

the brink of the grave, but happily were restored.

Loss of fortune followed loss of friends as time went on, but these

storms passed and calm returned. He went steadfastly on, confident of

the rest that awaits the people of God.

At the age of sixty-seven he was wide awake, alert and capable of

enduring hardships, no doubt partly owing to a temperate life. In late

years he interested himself in mining and was hopeful of his own and his

friends' future, and that of the state he helped to found.

While sojourning in the Cascade Mountains in 1891, David T. Denny wrote

the following:

"Ptarmigan Park: On Sept. 25th, 1851, just forty years ago,

Leander Terry, an older brother of C. C. Terry, John N. Low and

I, landed on what has since been known as Freeport Point, now

West Seattle. We found Chief Sealth with his tribe stopping on

the beach and fishing for salmon--a quiet, dignified man was

Sealth.

"We camped on the Point and slept under a large cedar tree, and

the next morning hired a couple of young Indians to take us up

the Duwampsh River; stayed one night at the place which was

afterward taken for a claim by E. B. Maple, then returned and

camped one night at our former place on the Point; then on the

morning of the 28th of September went around to Alki Point and

put down the foundation of the first cabin started in what is now

King County. Looking out over Elliott Bay at that time the site

where Seattle now stands, was an unbroken forest with no mark

made by the hand of man except a little log fort made by the

Indians, standing near the corner of Commercial and Mill Streets.

"Since that day we have had our Indian war, the Crimean war has

been fought, the war between Prussia and Austria, that between

France and Prussia, the great Southern Rebellion and many smaller

wars.

"Then to think of the wonderful achievements in the use of

electricity and the end is not yet.

"I should like to live another forty years just to see the growth

of the Sound country, if nothing else. I fully believe it is

destined to be the most densely populated and wealthiest of the

United States. One thing that leads me to this conclusion is the

evidence of a large aboriginal population which subsisted on the

natural productions of the land and water. Reasoning by

comparison, what a vast multitude can be supported by an

intelligent use of the varied resources of the country and the

world to draw from besides."

And again he wrote:

"Ptarmigan Park, Sept. 28th, 1891: Just forty years ago

yesterday, J. N. Low, Lee Terry and myself laid the foundation of

the first cabin started in what is now King County, Washington,

then Thurston County, Oregon Territory.

"Vast have been the changes since that day.

"Looking back it does not seem so very long ago and yet children

born since that have grown to maturity, married, and reared

families.

"Many of those who came to Elliott Bay are long since gone to

their last home. Lee Terry has been dead thirty-five years, Capt.

Robert Fay, twenty or more years, and J. N. Low over two years,

in fact most of the early settlers have passed away: John Buckley

and wife, Jacob Maple, S. A. Maple, Wm. N. Bell and wife, C. C.

Terry and wife, A. Terry, L. M. Collins and wife, Mrs. Kate

Butler, E. Hanford, Mother Holgate, John Holgate and many others.

If they could return to Seattle now they would not know the

place, and yet had it not been for various hindrances, the Indian

war, the opposition of the N. P. R. R. and the great fire,

Seattle would be much larger than it now is, the country would be

much more developed and we would have a larger rural population.

"However, from this time forward, I fully believe the process of

development will move steadily on, especially do I believe that

we are just commencing the development of the mineral resources

of the country. Undoubtedly there has been more prospecting for

the precious metals during 1891 than ever before all put

together.

"In the Silver Creek region there has been, probably, six hundred

claims taken and from all accounts the outlook is very favorable.

Also from Cle Elum and Swauk we have glowing accounts.

"In the Ptarmigan Park district about fifty claims have been

taken, a large amount of development work done and some very fine

samples of ore taken out."

(Signed) D. T. DENNY.

In the Seattle Daily Times of September 25th, 1901.

"JUST FIFTY YEARS AGO TODAY.

"On September 25, 1851, Mr. D. T. Denny, Now Living in This City,

Was Greeted on the Shores of Elliott Bay by Chief Seattle.

"Fifty years ago today, the first white settlers set foot in King

County.

"Fifty years ago today, a little band of pioneers rounded Alki

Point and grounded their boat at West Seattle. Chief Seattle

stalked majestically down the beach and greeted them in his

characteristic way. During the ensuing week they were guests of

a Western sachem, the king of Puget Sound waters, and never were

white men more royally entertained.

"At that time Chief Seattle was at the height of his popularity.

With a band of five hundred braves behind him, he stood in a

position to command the respect of all wandering tribes and of

the first few white men, whose heart-hungering and restlessness

had driven them from the civilization of the East, across the

plains of the Middle West, to the shores of the Pacific.

"As Mr. Denny is essentially the premier of this country, it

would not be out of order to give a glimpse of his early history.

He is the true type of pioneer. Although he is somewhat bent with

age, and his hair is white with the snows of many winters,

nevertheless, he still shows signs of that ruggedness that was

with him in the early Western days of his youth. Not only is he a

pioneer, but he came from a family of pioneers. Years and years

ago his ancestors crossed the Atlantic and landed on the Atlantic

coast. Not satisfied with the prevailing conditions there, they

began to push westward, settling in what is now Pennsylvania. As

the country became opened up and settled, this Denny family of

hardy pioneers again turned their faces to the westward sun, and

this time Indiana made them a home, and still later Illinois."

THE START WESTWARD.

It was in the latter state that Mr. D. T. Denny and his brother first

began to hear stories of the Willamette valley. Wonderful tales were

being carried across the plains of the fertility of the land around the

Columbia River and the spirit of restlessness that had been

characteristic of their ancestors began to tell upon them, and after

reading all they could find of this practically unknown wilderness, they

bade farewell to their Illinois friends, and started off across the

plains.

The start was made on the 10th day of April, 1851, from Knox County,

Illinois. D. T. Denny was accompanied by his older brother A. A. Denny,

and family. They drove two four-horse teams, and a two-horse wagon, and

ten days after the start had been made they crossed the Missouri River.

The fourth of July, 1851, found them at Fort Hall on Snake River,

Montana, an old Hudson Bay trading station. On the 11th day of August,

they reached The Dalles, Oregon, and there, after a brief consultation,

they decided to separate.

Mr. A. A. Denny here shipped the wagons and his family down the river on

some small vessel they were fortunate enough to find there, while Mr. D.

T. Denny took the horses and pushed over the Cascade Mountains. He

followed what was then known as the old Barlow road and reached

Portland on the 17th day of August.

They decided to stay in Portland for a few days, until they could learn

more about the country than they then knew, and it was in that city that

the subject of this sketch worked his first day for money. He helped

Thomas Carter unload a brig that had reached port from Boston, receiving

the sum of three dollars for his labors, and it was the "biggest three

dollars he ever earned in his life," so he said.

While at Portland they began to hear stories of Puget Sound, and after a

brief consultation, the Denny brothers and Mr. John N. Low, who had also

made the journey across the plains, decided to investigate the country

that now lies around the Queen City of the West.

OFF FOR ELLIOTT BAY.

As A. A. Denny had his family to look after, it was decided that Mr. Low

and D. T. Denny would make the trip, and as a consequence, on the 10th

day of September they ferried Low's stock across the river to what was

then Fort Vancouver. From there they followed the Hudson Bay trail to

the Cowlitz River, and up the Cowlitz to Ford's Prairie. Leaving their

stock there for a short time, they pushed on to Olympia, now the capital

of the state.

When they reached Olympia they found Capt. R. C. Fay and George M.

Martin on the point of leaving down Sound to fish for salmon, and

Messrs. Low, Denny and Terry arranged to come as far as the Duwamish

River with them. The start was made. There was no fluttering of flags

nor booming of cannon such as marked the departure of Columbus when he

left for a new country, and in fact this little band of men, in an open

boat, little dreamed that they would ultimately land within a stone's

throw of what was destined to become one of the greatest cities in the

West.

Fifty years ago today they camped with Chief Seattle on the promontory

across the bay. They slept that night under the protecting branches of a

cedar tree, and on the morning of the 26th they hired two of Seattle's

braves to paddle them up the river in a dugout canoe. They spent that

day in looking over the river bottoms, where are now situated the towns

of Maple Prairie and Van Asselt. There were no settlements there then,

and nothing but giant pines and firs greeted their gaze for miles. It

was a wonderful sight to these hardy Eastern men, and as they wished to

know something more of the country, Messrs. Low and Terry decided to

leave the canoe and depart on a short tour of exploration. One, two and

three hours passed and they failed to put in an appearance. In vain did

Mr. Denny fire his gun, and yell himself hoarse, but he was compelled to

spend the night in the wilderness with the two Indians.

DECIDED TO LOCATE.

The next day, however, or to be explicit, on the 27th of September, he

was gratified at the appearance of his friends on the river bank. They

had become lost the night before, and falling in with a band of Indians,

had spent the night with them. Having seen enough of the country to

become convinced that it was the place for them, they returned to what

is now West Seattle for the night. After the sun had disappeared behind

the Olympics, they heard a scow passing the point, which afterwards they

found contained L. M. Collins and family, who had pushed on up the river

and settled on the banks of the Duwamish.

On the morning of the 28th they decided to take up claims back of Alki

point, and on that day started to lay the foundation of the first cabin

in King county. Having decided to settle on Elliott bay, Mr. Low

determined to return to Portland for his family, whereupon Mr. Denny

wrote the following letter to his brother and sent it with him:

"We have examined the valley of the Duwamish river and find it a

fine country. There is plenty of room for one thousand settlers.

Come on at once."

By the time Mr. Low had reached Portland, William Bell and C. D. Boren

had also become interested in the Puget Sound district, and therefore

Messrs. Low, Denny, Bell and Boren, with their families, hired a

schooner to take them down the Columbia, up on the outside, in through

the Strait, and up the Sound to Alki, reaching the latter point on the

13th of November, 1851.

In speaking of those early pioneer days, Mr. Denny said:

"We built up quite a settlement over on Alki, and the Indians of

course came and settled around us. No, we were not molested to

any great extent. I remember that on one night, our women folks

missed a lot of clothing they had hung out to dry, and I at once

went to their big chief and told him what had happened. In a very

short time not only were the missing articles returned to us, but

a lot that we didn't know were gone."

WHISKY CAUSED TROUBLE.

"In those early days, in all my experience with Indians, I have

always found them peaceable enough as long as they left whisky

alone. Of course we had trouble with them, but it was always due

to the introduction of the white man's firewater, which has been

more than a curse to the red man.

"When we reached here, the Indians were more advanced than one

would have naturally supposed. We were able to buy berries, fish

and game of them, and potatoes also. Great fine tubers they were

too, much better than any we had ever been able to raise back in

Illinois. In fact I don't know what we would have done during

the first two winters had it not been for the Indians.

"But talk about game," he continued, a glow coming to his face as

the old scenes were brought up to him, "why, I have seen the

waters of Elliott Bay fairly black with ducks. Deer and bear were

plentiful then and this was a perfect paradise for the man with a

rod or gun. Never, I am sure, was there a country in which it was

so easy to live as it was in the Puget Sound district fifty years

ago."

"In coming across the plains, Mr. Denny, were you attacked by

Indians, or have any adventures out of the ordinary?" was asked.

"Well," said he meditatively, "we did have one little brush that

might have ended with the loss of all our lives. It was just

after leaving Fort Hall, in Montana. We had come up to what I

think was called the American Falls. While quite a distance away

we noticed the water just below the falls was black, with what we

supposed were ducks, but as we drew nearer we saw they were

Indians swimming across with one hand and holding their guns high

in the air with the other. We turned off slightly and started

down the trail at a rattling rate. We had not gone far when a big

chief stepped up on the bank. He was dressed mainly in a tall

plug hat and a gun, and he shouted, 'How do, how do, stop, stop!'

Well, we didn't, and after repeating his question he dropped

behind the sage brush and opened fire.

"My brother lay in my wagon sick with mountain fever, and that,

of course, materially reduced our fighting force. Had they

succeeded in shooting down one of our horses, it would, of

course, have been the end of us, but fortunately they did not and

we at last escaped them. No, no one was wounded, but it was the

worst scrape I ever had with the Indians, and I hope I will never

have to go through a similar experience again. It isn't pleasant

to be shot at, even by an Indian."

RECOGNIZED THE SPOT.

"In 1892," said Mr. Denny, "I went East over the Great Northern.

I was thinking of my first experience in Montana when I reached

that state, when all of a sudden we rounded a curve and passed

below the falls. I knew them in a minute, and instantly those old

scenes and trying times came back to me in a way that was

altogether too realistic for comfort. No, I have not been back

since.

"Mr. Prosch, Mr. Ward and myself," continued this old pioneer,

"had intended to take our families over to Alki today and hold a

sort of a picnic in honor of what happened fifty years ago, but

of course my sickness has prevented us from doing so. I don't

suppose we will be here to celebrate the event at the end of

another fifty years, and I should have liked to have gone today.

Instead, I suppose I shall sit here and think of what I saw and

heard at Alki Point just fifty years ago. I can live it over

again, in memories at least.

"Now, young man," concluded Mr. Denny, not unkindly, "please get

the names of those early pioneers and the dates right. A Seattle

paper published a bit of this history a few days ago, and they

got everything all mixed up. This is the story, and should be

written right, because if it isn't, the story becomes valueless.

I dislike very much to have the stories and events of those early

days misstated and misrepresented."

In 1899, Mr. Denny had the arduous task of personally superintending the

improvement of the old Snoqualmie road around the shore of Lake Kichelas

and on for miles through the mountains, building and repairing bridges,

making corduroy, blasting out rocks, changing the route at times; after

much patient effort and endurance of discomfort and hardship, he left it

much improved, for which many a weary way-farer would be grateful did

they but know. In value the work was far beyond the remuneration he

received.

During the time he was so occupied he had a narrow escape from death by

an accident, the glancing of a double-bitted ax in the hands of a too

energetic workman; it struck him between the eyes, inflicting a wound

which bled alarmingly, but finally was successfully closed.

The next year he camped at Lake Kichelas in the interests of a mining

company, and incidentally enjoyed some fishing and prospecting. It was

the last time he visited the mountains.

Gradually some maladies which had haunted him for years increased. As

long as he could he exerted himself in helping his family, especially in

preparing the site for a new home. He soon after became a great sufferer

for several years, struggling against his infirmities, in all exhibiting

great fortitude and patience.

His mind was clear to the last and he was able to converse, to read and

to give sound and admirable advice and opinions.

Almost to the last day of his life he took interest in the progress of

the nation and of the world, following the great movements with

absorbing interest.

He expressed a desire to see his friends earnest Christians, his own

willingness to leave earthly scenes and his faith in Jesus.

So he lived and thus he died, passing away on the morning of November

25th, 1903, in the seventy-second year of his age.

He was a great pioneer, a mighty force, commercial, moral and religious,

in the foundation-building of the Northwest.

In a set of resolutions presented by the Pioneer Association of the

State of Washington occur these words: "The record of no citizen was

ever marked more distinctly by acts of probity, integrity and general

worth than that of Mr. D. T. Denny, endearing him to all the people and

causing them to regard him with the utmost esteem and favor."

On the morning of November 26th, 1903, there appeared in the

Post-Intelligencer, the following:

"David Thomas Denny, who came to the site of Seattle in 1851, the

first of his name on Puget Sound, died at his home, a mile north

of Green Lake, at 3:36 yesterday morning. All the members of his

family, including John Denny, who arrived the day before from

Alaska, were at the bedside. Until half an hour before he passed

away Mr. Denny was conscious, and engaged those about him in

conversation."

MARRIED IN A CABIN.

The story of the early life of the Denny brothers tallies very nearly

with the history of Seattle. Mr. and Mrs. David Denny were married in a

cabin on the north end of A. A. Denny's claim near the foot of Lenora

street, January 23, 1853. The next morning the couple moved to their own

cabin--built by the husband's hands--at the foot of what is now Denny

Way. The moving was accomplished in a canoe.

Though they professed a great respect for David Denny, the Indians were

numerous and never very reliable. In a year or two, therefore, the

family moved up nearer the sawmill and little settlement which had

grown up near the foot of Cherry street. D. T. Denny had meanwhile

staked out a very large portion of what is now North Seattle--a plat of

three hundred and twenty acres. Later he made seven additions to the

city of Seattle from this claim. In 1857 it was a wilderness of thick

brush, but the pioneer moved his family to his farm on the present site

of Recreation park in that year. The Indian war had occurred the winter

before and the red men were quiet, having received a lesson from the

blue jackets which were landed from the United States gunboat Decatur.

Three or four years later the family moved to a cottage at the corner of

Second avenue and Seneca street. In the early '70s they moved to the

large home at the corner of Dexter and Republican streets, where the

children grew up. In 1890 the family took possession of the large house

standing on Queen Anne avenue, known as the Denny home, which was

occupied by the family until a few years ago, when they moved to Fremont

and later to the house where Mr. Denny died, in Licton Park, some

distance north of Green Lake.

Until about ten years ago David T. Denny was considered the wealthiest

man in Seattle. His large property in the north end of the city had been

the source of more and more revenue as the town grew. When the needs of

the town became those of a big city he hastened to supply them with

energy and money. His mill on the shores of Lake Union was the largest

in the city, when Seattle was first known as a milling town. The

establishment of an electric light plant and a water supply to a part of

the city were among the enterprises which he headed.

The cable and horse car roads were consolidated into a company headed by

D. T. Denny more than a decade ago. In the effort to supply the company

with the necessary funds Mr. Denny attempted to convert much of his

property into cash. At that time an estimate of his resources was made

by a close personal friend, who yesterday said that the amount was

considerably over three million dollars, which included his valuable

stock in the traction companies. In the hard times of '93 Mr. Denny was

unable to realize the apparent value of his property, and a considerable

reduction of his fortune was a result. Since then he has been to a great

extent engaged in mining in the Cascade mountains, and for the past

three years has been closely confined to his home by a serious illness.

Among the gifts of D. T. Denny to the city of Seattle is Denny Park.

Denny Way, the Denny school and other public places in Seattle bear his

name. D. T. Denny was a liberal Republican always. He was at one time a

member of the board of regents of the territorial university, the first

treasurer of King county, probate judge for two years and for twelve

years a school director of District No. 1, comprising the city of

Seattle.

Several of those who were associated with David T. Denny during the time

when he was in active business and a strong factor in local affairs have

offered estimates of his character and of the part he took in the

founding and building of the city. Said Col. William T. Prosser:

"It is sad to think that David T. Denny will no more be seen upon

the streets of the city he assisted in founding more than fifty

years ago. During all that time he was closely identified with

its varying periods of danger, delayed hopes and bitter

disappointments, as well as those of marvelous growth, activity

and prosperity. The changing features of the city were reflected

in his own personal history. The waves of prosperity and

adversity both swept over him, yet throughout his entire career

he always maintained his integrity and through it all he bore

himself as an energetic and patriotic citizen and as a Christian

gentleman."

Judge Thomas Burke:

"D. T. Denny had great faith in Seattle, and his salient

characteristic was his readiness in pushing forward its welfare.

I remember him having an irreproachable character--honest, just

in all his dealings and strong in his spirit. In illustration of

his strong feeling on the temperance question I remember that he

embodied a clause in the early deeds of the property which he

sold to the effect that no intoxicating liquors were to be sold

upon the premises. Yes, he was a good citizen."

Charles A. Prosch:

"Although Mr. Denny's later years were clouded by financial

troubles, reverses did not soil his spirit nor change his

integrity. He was progressive to the last and one of the most

upright men I know."

D. B. Ward:

"I first met David Denny in 1859 and I have known him more or

less intimately ever since. I know him to have possessed strict

integrity, unswerving purpose and cordial hospitality. My first

dinner in Seattle was eaten at his home--where a baked salmon

fresh from the Sound was an oddity to me. His financial troubles

some years ago grew out of his undaunted public spirit. He was

president of the first consolidated street car system here, and

in his efforts to support it most of his property was

confiscated. I knew him for a strong, able man."

Judge Orange Jacobs:

"Mr. Denny was a quiet man, but he carried the stamp of truth. He

was extremely generous, and as I remember, he possessed a fine

mind. In his death I feel a personal, poignant grief."

Rev. W. S. Harrington:

"D. T. Denny was a man of much more than average ability. He

thought much and deeply on all questions which affected the

welfare of man. He was retiring and his strength was known to

few. But his integrity was thorough and transparent and his

purpose inflexible. Even though he suffered, his spirit was never

bitter toward his fellows, and his benefactions were numerous.

Above all, he was a Christian and believed in a religion which he

sought to live, not to exhibit. His long illness was borne with a

patience and a sweetness which commanded my deep respect and

admiration."

Samuel L. Crawford:

"A man with the courage to fight for his convictions of right and

with a marvelous capacity for honest work--such is the splendid

heritage David T. Denny has left to his sorrowing family. When

but 19 years of age he walked from the Columbia river to Puget

Sound, driving a small band of stock ahead of him through the

brush.

"No sooner had his party settled and the log cabin been completed

than David commenced looking for more work, and, like all others

who seek diligently, he was successful, for early in December of

that year the brig Leonesa, Capt. Daniel S. Howard, stopped at

Alki Point, seeking a cargo of piling for San Francisco. David T.

Denny, William N. Bell, C. D. Boren, C. C. Terry, J. N. Low, A.

A. Denny and Lee Terry took the contract of cutting the piling

and loading the vessel, which they accomplished in about two

weeks, a remarkably short time, when the weather and the lack of

teams and other facilities are taken into consideration.

"Other vessels came for cargo and Mr. Denny became an expert

woodsman, helping to supply them with piling from the shores. In

1852 Mr. Denny, in company with his brother Arthur and some

others, came over to Elliott Bay and laid the foundation of

Seattle, the great city of the future. Mr. Denny, being a

bachelor, took the most northerly claim, adjoining that of W. N.

Bell, and built a cabin near the shore, at the foot of what is

now Denny Way. The Indians being troublesome, he moved into a

small house beside that of his brother on the site of the present

Stevens Hotel.

"In the meantime he married a sister of C. D. Boren, and a small

family commenced to spring up around him, thus requiring larger

quarters. In 1871 Mr. Denny built a large frame house on the

southwest shore of Lake Union, on a beautiful knoll. He cleared

up a large portion of his claim, and for many years engaged in

farming and stock-raising. He afterward built a palatial home on

his property at the foot of Queen Anne Hill, midway between Lake

Union and the Sound, but this he occupied only a short time. In

1852, in company with his brother Arthur, Mr. Denny discovered

Salmon Bay.

"Mr. Denny was a just man and always dealt fairly with the

Indians. For this reason the Indians learned to love and respect

him, and for many years they have gone to him to settle their

disputes and help them out of their difficulties with the whites

and among themselves.

"As Seattle grew, David Denny platted much of his claim and sold

it off in town lots. He built the Western mill at the south end

of Lake Union and engaged extensively in the building and

promotion of street railways. He had too many irons in the fire,

and when the panic came in 1892-3 it crippled him financially,

but he gave up his property, the accumulation of a lifetime of

struggle and work, to satisfy his creditors, and went manfully to

work in the mountains of Washington to regain his lost fortune.

His heroic efforts were rapidly being crowned with success, as he

is known to have secured a number of mines of great promise, on

which he has done a large amount of development work during the

past few years.

"In the death of David T. Denny, Seattle loses an upright,

generous worker, who has always contributed of his brain, brawn

and cash for the upbuilding of the city of which he was one of

the most important founders."

DEXTER HORTON'S TRIBUTE.

"'I have known Mr. Denny for fifty years. A mighty tree has

fallen. He was one of the best men, of highest character and

principle, this city ever claimed as a citizen. That is enough.'

"By Father F. X. Prefontaine, of the Church of Our Lady of Good

Help: 'I have known Mr. Denny about thirty-six or thirty-seven

years. I always liked him, though I was more intimately

acquainted with his brother, Hon. A. A. Denny, and his venerable

father, John Denny. His father in his time impressed me as a fine

gentleman, a great American. He was a man who was always called

upon at public meetings for a speech and he was a deeply earnest

man, so much so that tears often showed in his eyes while he was

addressing the people.'

"Hon. Boyd J. Tallman, judge of the Superior Court: 'I have only

known Mr. Denny since 1889, and I always entertained the highest

regard for him. He was a man of firm conviction and principle and

was always ready to uphold them. Though coming here to help found

the town, he was always ready to advocate and stand for the

principle of prohibition and temperance on all occasions. While

there were many who could not agree with him in these things,

every manly man felt bound to accord to Mr. Denny honesty of

purpose and respect for the sincerity of his opinion. I believe

that in his death a good man has gone and this community has

suffered a great loss.'"

C. B. BAGLEY TALKS.

"Clarence B. Bagley, who as a boy and man has known Mr. Denny for

almost the full number of years the latter lived at Seattle, was

visibly overcome at the news of his death. Mr. Bagley would

gladly have submitted a more extended estimate than he did of Mr.

Denny's life and character, but he was just hurrying into court

to take his place as a juryman.

"'Mr. Denny was one of the best men Seattle ever had. He was a

liberal man, ever ready to embark his means in enterprises

calculated to upbuild and aid in the progress of Seattle. He was

a man of strong convictions, strong almost to obstinacy in

upholding and maintaining cherished principles he fully believed.

"'Mr. Denny suffered reverses through his willingness to

establish enterprises for the good of the whole city. He built

the Western Mill at Lake Union when the location was away in the

woods, and eventually lost a great deal of money in it during the

duller periods of the city's life. He also lost a great deal of

money in giving this city a modern street railway system. His

character as an honorable man and Christian always stood out

boldly, his integrity of purpose never questioned.'

"Lawrence J. Colman, son of J. M. Colman, the pioneer, said: 'Our

family has known Mr. Denny for thirty-one years, ever since

coming to Seattle. We regarded him as an absolutely upright,

conscientious and Christian man, notwithstanding the reverses

that came to him, in whom our confidence was supreme, and one who

did not require his character to be upheld, for it shone brightly

at all times by its own lustre.'"

SAMUEL COOMBS TALKS.

"S. F. Coombs, the well-known pioneer, had known Mr. Denny since

1859, about forty-five years. 'It was to Mr. Denny,' said Mr.

Coombs, 'that the Indians who lived here and knew him always went

for advice and comfort and to have their disputes settled. Their

high estimate of the man was shown in many ways, where the whites

were under consideration. Mr. Denny was a man whom I always

admired and greatly respected. He afforded me much information of

the resident Indians here and around Salmon Bay, as he was

intimately acquainted with them all.

"'At one time Mr. Denny was reckoned as Seattle's wealthiest

citizen. When acting as deputy assessor for Andrew Chilberg, the

city lying north of Mill Street, now Yesler Way, was my district

to assess. Denny's holdings, D. T. Denny's plats, had the year

previous been assessed by the acre. The law was explicit, and to

have made up the assessment by the acre would have been illegal.

Mr. Denny's assessed value the year before was fifty thousand

dollars. The best I could do was to make the assessment by the

lot and block. For the year I assessed two hundred and fifty

thousand. Recourse was had to the county commissioners, but the

assessment remained about the same. Just before his purchase of

the Seattle street car system he was the wealthiest man in King

County, worth more than five hundred thousand dollars.

"'Of Mr. Denny it may be said that if others had applied the

Golden Rule as he did, he would have been living in his old home

in great comfort in this city today.'"

LIFE OF DAVID DENNY.

"Fifty-two years and two months ago David Thomas Denny came to

Seattle, to the spot where Seattle now stands enthroned upon her

seven hills. Mr. Denny, the last but one of the little band of

pioneers--some half dozen men first to make this spot their

home--has been gathered to his fathers; 'has wrapped the mantle

of his shroud about him and laid down to pleasant dreams.' Gone

is a man and citizen who perhaps loved Seattle best of all those

who ever made Seattle their home. This is attested by the fact

that from the time that Mr. Denny first came to Elliott Bay it

has been his constant home. Never but once or twice during that

long period of time did he go far away, and then for but a very

short time. Once he went as far away as New York--and that proved

a sad trip--and once, in recent years, to California. Both trips

were comparatively brief, and he who first conquered the primeval

forest that crowned the hills around returned home full of

intense longing to get back and full of love for the old home.

"Mr. Denny lived a rugged, honorable, upright life--the life of a

patriarch. He bore patiently a long period of intense suffering

manfully and without murmur, and when the end approached he

calmly awaited the summons and died as if falling away into a

quiet sleep. So he lived, so he died.

"Few indeed who can comprehend the extent of his devotion to

Seattle. Living in Seattle for the last two years, yet for that

period he never looked once upon the city which he helped to

build. About that long ago he moved from his home which he had

maintained for some years at Fremont, to the place where he died,

Licton Springs, about a mile north of Green Lake. Said Mr. Denny

as he went from the door of the old home he was giving up for the

new: 'This will be the last time I will ever look upon Seattle,'

and Mr. Denny's words were true. He never was able to leave again

the little sylvan home his family--his wife, sister and

children--had raised for him in the woods. There, dearly loved,

he was watched over and cared for by the children and by the wife

who had shared with him for two-score-and-ten years the joys and

sorrows, the ups and downs that characterized his life in a more

marked degree than was the experience of any other of the

pioneers who first reached this rugged bay.

"Mr. Denny was once, not so very long ago, a wealthy man--some

say the wealthiest in the city--but he died poor, very poor; but

he paid his debts to the full. Once the owner in fee simple of

land upon which are now a thousand beautiful Seattle homes, he

passed on to his account a stranger in a strange land, and

without title to his own domicile. When the crisis and the crash

came that wrecked his fortune he went stoutly to work, and if he

ever repined it was not known outside of the family and small

circle of chosen friends. That was about fourteen years ago, and

up to two years ago Mr. Denny toiled in an humble way, perhaps

never expecting, never hoping to regain his lost fortune. Those

last years of labor were spent, for the most part, at the Denny

Mine on Gold Creek, a mine, too, in which he had no direct

interest or ownership, or in directing work upon the Snoqualmie

Pass road. He came down from the hills to his sick bed and to his

death.

"Mr. Denny's life for half a century is the history of the town.

Without the Dennys there might have been no Seattle. Of all the

band that came here in the fall of 1851, they seemed to have

taken deepest root and to have left the stamp of their name and

individuality which is keen and patent to this day."

[Illustration: SONS OF D. T. AND LOUISA DENNY

Victor W. S. D. Thomas John B.]

CAME FROM ILLINOIS.

"The Dennys came from Illinois, from some place near Springfield,

and crossing Iowa, rendezvoused at what was then Kanesville, now

Council Bluffs. They came by way of Fort Hall and the South Pass,

along the south side of the Snake River, where, at or near

American Falls, they had their first and only brush with the

Indians. There was only desultory firing and no one was injured.

The party reached The Dalles August 11, 1851. The party separated

there, Low, Boren and A. A. Denny going by river to Portland,

arriving August 22. In September, Low and D. T. Denny drove a

herd of cattle, those that drew them across the plains, to

Chehalis River to get them to a good winter range. These men came

on to the Sound and here they arrived before the end of that

month. After looking around some, Low went away, having hired Mr.

Denny, who was an unmarried man, to stay behind and build Low a

cabin. This was done and on September 28th, 1851, the foundation

of this first cabin was laid close to the beach at Alki Point.

"A. A. Denny, Low, Boren, Bell and C. C. Terry arrived at Alki

Point, joining D. T. Denny. That made a happy little family,

twenty-four persons, twelve men and women, twelve children and

one cabin. In this they all resided until the men could erect a

second log cabin. By this time the immediate vicinity of the

point had been stripped of its building logs and the men had to

go back and split shakes and carry them out of the woods on their

backs. With these they erected two 'shake' or split cedar houses

that, with the two log cabins, provided fair room for the

twenty-four people.

"During that winter the men cut and loaded a small brig with

piles for San Francisco. The piles were cut near the water and

rolled and dragged by hand to where they would float to the

vessel's side. There were no oxen in the country at that time and

the first team that came to Elliott Bay was driven along the

beach at low tide from up near Tacoma."

SURROUNDED BY INDIANS.

"The first winter spent at Alki Point the settlers were almost

constantly surrounded with one thousand Indians armed with old

Hudson Bay Company's muskets. This company maintained one of its

posts at Nisqually, Pierce County, and traded flintlocks and

blankets with the Indians all over Western Washington, taking in

trade their furs and skins. The Indians from far and near hearing

of the settlement of whites came and camped on the beach nearly

the whole winter.

"In addition to the Indians of this bay the Muckleshoots, Green

Rivers, Snoqualmies, Tulalips, Port Madisons and likely numerous

other bands were on hand. At one time the Muckleshoots and

Snoqualmies lined up in front of the little cluster of whites and

came near engaging in a battle, having become enraged at one

another. The whites acted as peacemakers and no blood was

spilled.

"In those days the government gave what was known as donation

claims, one hundred sixty acres to a man, and an equal amount to

the women. In the spring of 1852 the Dennys, Bell and Boren, came

over to this side and took donation claims. Boren located first

on the south, his line being at about the line of Jackson Street.

A. A. Denny came next and Bell third. Shortly after D. T. Denny

located, taking a strip of ground from the bay back to Lake Union

and bounded by lines north and south which tally about with Denny

Way on the south and Mercer Street on the north. Later Mr. Denny

bought the eastern shore of Lake Union, extending from the lake

to the portage between Union and Washington.

"Mr. Denny's first house on this side of the bay, built

presumably in the spring of 1852, was located on the beach at the

foot of what is now Denny Way in North Seattle. This was a

one-story log cabin. It was on the bluff overlooking the bay and

the woods hemmed it in, and it was only by cutting and slashing

that one could open a way back into the forest."

MR. DENNY'S FARM.

"Some time later Mr. Denny begun his original clearing for a farm

at what is now the vicinity of Third Avenue North and Republican

Street, and also in the early years of residence here--about 1860

or 1861--built a home on the site of what is now occupied by

modern business houses at Second Avenue and Seneca Street.

"It seems to have been Mr. Denny's plan to work out on his farm

at Third Avenue and Republican Street during the dry summer

season and to reside down in the settlement in the winter. The

farm at Third Avenue and Republican Street grew apace until in

after years it became the notable spot in all the district of

what is now North Seattle. After the arrival on the coast of the

Chinaman it was leased to them for a number of years, and became

widely known as the China gardens. Mr. Denny does not seem to

have planted orchard to any extent here, but at Second and Seneca

he had quite an orchard. Forming what later became a part of the

original D. T. Denny farm was a large tract of open, boggy land

running well through the center of Mr. Denny's claim from about

Third Avenue down to Lake Union. This was overgrown largely with

willow and swamp shrubs. In ancient times it was either a lake or

beaver marsh, and long after the whites came, ducks frequented

the place. The house built at Second Avenue and Seneca Street by

Mr. Denny was a small one-story structure of three or four rooms.

"In 1871 Mr. Denny built another homestead of the D. T. Denny

family at this place. It was, after its completion, one of the

most commodious and important houses in the city. This house was

built overlooking Lake Union, instead of the bay. The site

selected was on what is now Dexter Avenue and Republican Street.

This house still stands, a twelve or fourteen-room house,

surrounded by orchard and grounds."

BUILT A NEW HOME.

"Mr. Denny lived at the Lake Union home until just after the big

fire here in 1889, when he began the erection and completed a

fine mansion on Queen Anne Avenue, with fine grounds, but he did

not long have the pleasure of residing here. The unfortunate

business enterprises in which he soon found himself engulfed,

swept away his vast wealth, and 'Honest Dave,' as he had become

familiarly to be known, was left without a place wherein to rest

his head."

These tributes also recite something of the story of his life:

"He was one of the original locators of donation claims on

Elliott Bay, within the present limits of Seattle. The two

Dennys, David and his brother, Arthur, now deceased; Dr. Maynard,

Carson D. Boren and W. N. Bell, were the first locators of the

land upon which the main portion of Seattle now rests. All of

them, save Boren, have passed away, and Boren has not lived in

Seattle for many years; so it may be said that David Denny was

the last of the Seattle pioneers. Of his seventy-one years of

life, fifty-two were passed on Puget Sound and fifty-one in the

City of Seattle, in the upbuilding of which he bore a prominent

part.

"With his original donation claim and lands subsequently

acquired, Mr. Denny was for many years the heaviest property

owner in actual acreage in Seattle. Most of his holdings had

passed into the hands of others before his death. In his efforts

to build up the city he engaged in the promotion of many large

enterprises, and was carrying large liabilities, although well

within the limit of his financial ability, when the panic of ten

years ago rendered it impossible to realize upon any property of

any value, and left equities in real property covered even by

light mortgages, absolutely valueless. In that disastrous period

he, among all Seattle's citizens, was stricken the hardest blow,

but he never lost the hope or the energy of the born pioneer, nor

faith in the destinies of the city which he had helped to found.

His name remains permanently affixed to many of the monuments of

Seattle, and he will pass into history as one of the men who laid

the foundations of one of the great cities of the world, and who

did much in erecting the superstructure.

"In the enthusiasms of early life the ambitious men and women of

America turn their faces toward 'the setting sun' and bravely

assume the task of building homes in uninhabited places and

transforming the wilderness into prosperous communities. Those

who undertake such work are to be listed among God's

noblemen--for without such men little progress would be made in

the development of any country.

"For more than a hundred years one of the interesting features of

life in the United States is that connected with pioneering. The

men and women of energy are usually possessed with an adventurous

spirit which chafes under the fixed customs and inflexible

conservatism of the older communities, and longs to take a hand

in crowding the frontier toward the Pacific.

"The poet has said that only the brave start out West and only

the strong success in getting there. Thus it is that those, who,

more than a half century ago, elected to cross the American

continent were from the bravest of the eastern or middle portion

of the United States. Many who started turned back; others died

by the wayside. Only the 'strong' reached their destination.

"Of this class was the small party which landed at Alki Point in

the late summer of 1851 and began the task of building up a

civilization where grew the gigantic forests and where roamed the

dusky savage. Of that number was David T. Denny, the last

survivor but one, C. D. Boren, of the seven men who composed the

first white man's party to camp on the shores of Elliott Bay.

"It requires some stretch of the imagination to view the

surroundings that enveloped that band of hardy pioneers and to

comprehend the magnitude of the task that towered before them. It

was no place for the weak or faint-hearted. There was work to

do--and no one shirked.

"Since then more than fifty years have come and gone, and from

the humble beginnings made by David T. Denny and the others has

grown a community that is the metropolis of the Pacific Northwest

and which, a few years hence, will be the metropolis of the

entire Pacific Coast. That this has been the product of these

initial efforts is due in a large measure to the energy, the

example, the business integrity and public spirit of him whose

demise is now mourned as that of the last but one of the male

survivors of that little party of pioneers of 1851.

"The history of any community can be told in the biographies of a

few of the leading men connected with its affairs. The history of

Seattle can be told by writing a complete biography of David T.

Denny. He was among the first to recognize that here was an

eligible site for a great city. He located a piece of land with

this object in view and steadfastly he clung to his purpose. When

a public enterprise was to be planned that would redound to the

growth and prestige of Seattle he was at the front, pledging his

credit and contributing of his means.

"Then came a time in the growth of cities on the Pacific Coast

when the spirit of speculation appeared to drive men mad. Great

schemes were laid and great enterprises planned. Some of them

were substantial; some of them were not. With a disposition to do

anything honorable that would contribute to the glory of Seattle,

David T. Denny threw himself into the maelstrom with all of his

earthly possessions and took chances of increasing his already

handsome fortune. Then came the panic of 1893 and Mr. Denny was

among many other Seattle men who emerged from the cataclysm

without a dollar.

"Subsequent years made successful the enterprise that proved the

financial ruin of so many of Seattle's wealthy, but it was too

late for those who had borne the brunt of the battle. Others came

in to reap where the pioneers had sown and the latter were too

far along in years to again take up the struggle of accumulating

a competence. His declining years were passed in the circle of

loving friends who never failed to speak of him as the

personification of honesty and integrity and one whose noble

traits of character in this respect were worthy of all

emulation."

The following is an epitaph written for his tomb:

"David Thomas Denny, Born March 17th, 1832, Died Nov. 25th, 1903.

The first of the name to reach Puget Sound, landing at Duwampsh

Head, Sept. 25th, 1851. A great pioneer from whose active and

worthy life succeeding generations will reap countless benefits."

"He giveth his beloved sleep."

The early days of the State, or rather, Territory, of Washington

produced a distinct type of great men, one of whom was David Thomas

Denny.

Had Washington a poet to tell of the achievements of her heroic founders

and builders a considerable epic would be devoted to the remarkable

career and character of this noble man.

At the risk of repetition I append this slight recapitulation:

The first of the name to set foot on Puget Sound, _Oregon Territory_,

September 25th, 1851, he then evinced the characteristics more fully

developed in after years.

He had crossed the plains and then from Portland proceeded to Puget

Sound by the old Hudson Bay trail. He landed at Duwampsh Head where now

is West Seattle, and there met and shook hands with Chief Sealth, or old

Seattle as the whites called him. He helped to build the first cabin

home at Alki Point. He alone was the Committee of Reception when the

notable party landed from the "Exact." He ran the race of the bravest of

the brave pioneers.

Beginning at the very bottom of the ladder, he worked with his hands, as

did the others, at every sort of work to be found in a country entirely

unimproved.

A ready axman, a very Nimrod, a natural linguist, he began the attack on

the mighty forest, he slew wild animals and birds for food, he made

friends with the native tribes.

He builded, planted, harvested, helped to found schools, churches,

government and civilized society. Always and everywhere he embodied and

upheld scriptural morality and temperance.

Many now living could testify to his untiring service to the stranded

newcomers. Employment, money, credit, hospitality, time, advice, he gave

freely to help and encourage the settlers following the pioneers.

He was Probate Judge, County Treasurer, City Councilman, Regent of the

University, School Director for twelve years, etc., etc. He administered

a number of estates with extreme care and faithfulness.

David T. Denny early realized that Seattle was a strategic site for a

great city and by thrifty investments in wild land prepared for

settlements sure to come.

After long years of patient toil, upright dealing and wise management,

he began to accumulate until his property was worth a fortune.

With increasing wealth his generosity increased and he gave liberally to

carry on all the institutions of a civilized community.

David T. Denny gave "Denny Park" to the City of Seattle.

Denny school was named for him, as is perfectly well known to many

persons.

As prosperity increased he became more active in building the city and

lavished energy, toil, property and money, installing public enterprises

and utilities, such as water supply, electric lights, a large sawmill,

banks, street railways, laying off additions to the city, grading and

improvements, etc., etc.

Then came 1893, the black year of trade. Thousands lost all they

possessed. David T. Denny suffered a martyrdom of disappointment,

humiliation, calumny, extreme and undeserved reproach from those who

crammed themselves with securities, following the great money panic in

which his immense holdings passed into the hands of others.

He was a soldier of the Indian war and was on guard near the door of

Fort Decatur when the memorable attack took place on January 26th, 1856.

The fort was built of timbers hewn by D. T. Denny and two others, taken

from his donation claim. These timbers were brought to Seattle, then a

little settlement of about three hundred people. There he helped to

build the fort.

Many persons have expressed a desire to see a fitting memorial erected

to the memory of Seattle's "Fairy Prince," Founder and Defender, David

Thomas Denny.

I feel the inadequacy of these fragmentary glimpses of the busy life of

this well known pioneer. I have not made a set arrangement of the

material as I wished to preserve the testimony of others, hence there

appear some repetitions; an accurate and intimate biography may come in

the future.

Logically, his long, active, useful life in the Northwest, might be

divided into epochs on this wise:

1st. The log cabin and "claim" era, in which, within my own memory, he

was seen toiling early and late, felling the forest giants, cultivating

the soil, superintending Indian workers and bringing in game, killed

with his rifle.

2nd. The farm-home era, when he built a substantial house on his part of

the donation claim, near the south end of Lake Union, obtained cattle

(famous Jersey stock of California), horses, etc. The home then achieved

by himself and his equally busy wife, was one to be desired, surrounded

as it was by beautiful flowers, orchards, wide meadows and pastures, and

outside these, the far-spreading primeval forest.

3rd. Town-building. The west end of the claim, belonging to Louisa

Denny, was first platted; other plats followed, as may be seen by

reference to Seattle records. Commercial opportunities loomed large and

he entered upon many promising enterprises. All these flourished for a

time.

4th. 1893. The failure of Baring Bros., as he told me repeatedly, began

it--theirs being the result of having taken bonds of the Argentine

Republic, and a revolution happening along, $100,000,000.00 went by the

board; a sizable failure.

Partly on account of this and partly on account of the vast advantage of

the lender over the borrower, and partly through the vast anxiety of

those who held his securities, they were able to distribute among

themselves his hard-earned fortune.

"A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among

thieves, which stripped him of his raiment and wounded him and departed

leaving him half dead."

The Deficiency Judgment also loomed large and frequent and his last days

were disturbed by those who still pressed their greedy claims, even

following after his death, with a false, unjust and monstrous sale of

the cemetery in which he lies buried!

But he is with the just men made perfect.

Law, custom and business methods have permitted, from time immemorial,

gross injustice to debtors; formerly they were imprisoned; a man might

speedily pay his debts, if in prison!

The Deficiency Judgment and renewal of the same gives opportunity for

greedy and unprincipled creditors to rob the debtor. There should be a

law compelling the return of the surplus. When one class of people make

many times their money out of the misfortunes of others, there is

manifestly great inequality.

The principles of some are to grab all they can, "skin" all they can,

and follow up all they can even to the _graveyard_.

"THESE THINGS OUGHT NOT SO TO BE."

5th. In the end he laid down all earthly things, and in spite of grief

and suffering, showed a clear perception and grasp of justice, mercy and

truth.

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST WEDDING ON ELLIOTT BAY.

Concerning this notable occurrence many interesting incidents were

recorded by an interviewer who obtained the same from the lips of David

Thomas Denny.

"On January 23rd, 1895, Mr. and Mrs. David T. Denny celebrated

their forty-second wedding anniversary--and the anniversary of

the first wedding in Seattle--in their home at 'Decatur Terrace'

(512 Temperance Street), Seattle, with a gathering of children,

grandchildren, relatives and friends that represented four

distinctive generations.

"One of the notable features of the evening was the large

gathering of pioneers who collectively represented more years of

residence in Seattle than ever were found together before.

[Illustration: LOUISA B. DENNY]

"What added interest to the occasion was the historical fact that

Mr. and Mrs. Denny were the first couple married in Seattle, and

the transition from the small, uncouth log cabin, built

forty-three years ago by the sturdy young pioneer for his bride,

to the present beautiful residence with all its modern

convenience in which the respected couple are enjoying the fruits

of a well spent life, was the subject of many congratulations

from the friends of the honored host and hostess who remembered

their early trials and tribulations. All present were more or

less connected with the history of Seattle, all knew one

another's history, and with their children and grandchildren the

gathering, unconventional in every respect, with the two-year-old

baby romping in the arms of the octogenarian, presented a

colossal, happy family reunion.

"The old pioneer days were not forgotten, and one corner of the

reception room was made to represent the interior of a cabin,

lined with newspapers, decorated with gun, bullet pouch and

powder horn and measure, a calico sunbonnet, straw hat and

hunting shirt.

"A table was set to represent one in the early fifties, namely,

two boards across two boxes, for a table, a smoked salmon, a tin

plate full of boiled potatoes, some sea biscuits and a few large

clams. Such a meal, when it was had, was supposed to be a feast.

"Many other relics were in sight; a thirty-two pound solid shot,

fired by the sloop-of-war Decatur among the Indians during the

uprising; a ten-pound shot belonging to Dr. Maynard's cannon; a

pair of enormous elk's horns belonging to a six hundred and

thirty-pound elk killed by Mr. D. T. Denny, September 7th, 1869,

in the woods north west of Green Lake; the first Bible of the

family from which the eldest daughter, Miss Emily Inez, learned

her letters; an old-fashioned Indian halibut hook, an ingenious

contrivance; an old family Bible, once the property of the

father of David T. Denny, bearing the following inscription on

the inside cover:

'The property of J. Denny,

Purchased of J. Strange,

August the 15th, 1829,

Price 62-1/2 cents.

Putnam County, Indiana.'

"Also a number of daguerreotypes of Mr. and Mrs. D. T. Denny in

the early years of their married life, taken in the fifties, and

one of W. G. Latimer and his sister.

"All these and many more afforded food for conversation and

reminiscences on the part of the old pioneers present.