The following has a perennial freshness, although I have heard it a

number of times:

"When Olympia was a struggling village and much in need of a

church, this portly, industrious man of many talents took upon

himself the not overly pleasant task of raising subscriptions for

the enterprise, and in his rounds called on Mr. Crosby, owner of

the sawmill at Tumwater, and asked how much lumber he would

contribute to the church. Mr. Crosby eyed the 'cloth' a moment

and sarcastically replied, 'As much as _you_, sir, will raft and

take away between this and sundown.' 'Show me the pile!' was the

unexpected rejoinder. Then laying off his coat and beaver tile he

waded in with an alacrity that fairly made Mr. Crosby's hair

bristle. All day, without stopping a moment, even for dinner, his

tall, stalwart form bent under large loads of shingles, sheeting,

siding, scantling, studding and lath, and even large sills and

plates were rolled and tumbled into the bay with the agility of

a giant, and before sundown Mr. Crosby had the proud

satisfaction of seeing the 'cloth' triumphantly poling a raft

toward Olympia containing lumber enough for a handsome church and

a splendid parsonage besides.

"Mr. Crosby was heard to say a few days afterward that no ten men

in his employ could, or would, have done that day's work. Meeting

the divine shortly afterwards, Mr. Crosby said, 'Well, parson,

you can handle more lumber between sunrise and dark than any man

I ever saw.'

"'Oh,' said the parson, 'I was working that day for my Maker.'

"Moral: Never trust pioneer preachers with your lumber pile,

simply because they wear broadcloth coats, for most of them know

how to take them off, and then they can work as well as pray."

This conjuror with the pen has called up another well known personality

of the earliest times in the following sketch and anecdote:

"Dr. Maynard was of medium size. He had blue eyes, a square

forehead, a strong face and straight black hair, when worn short,

but when worn long, as it was when whitened by the snows of many

winters, it was quite curly and fell in ringlets over his

shoulders. Add to this description, a long, gray beard, and you

will see him as he appeared on our streets when on his last legs.

When 'half seas over,' he overflowed with generous impulses,

would give away anything within reach and was full of extravagant

promises, many of which were out of his power to fulfill. He once

owned Alki Point and sometimes would move there in order to

'reform,' but seldom remained longer than a month or six weeks.

Alki Point was covered with huge logs and stumps, excepting a

little cleared ground near the bay where the house stood. But

when the doctor saw it through his telescopic wine-glasses it was

transformed into a beautiful farm with broad meadows covered with

lowing herds and prancing steeds whose 'necks were clothed with

thunder.'

"One day, in the fall of 1860, while viewing his farm through his

favorite glasses, David Stanley, the venerable Salmon Bay hermit,

happened along, when Maynard gave him a glowing description of

his Alki Point farm as he himself beheld it just then, and wound

up by proposing to take the old man in partnership, and offered

him half of the fruit and farm stock for simply looking after it

and keeping the fences in repair. The temptation to gain sudden

riches was too much for even his unworldliness of mind, and he

made no delay in embarking for Alki Point with all his worldly

effects. His object in living alone, was, he said, to comply with

the injunction to keep one's self 'unspotted from the world,' but

the doctor assured him that the change would not seriously

interfere with his meditations, inasmuch as few people landed at

Alki Point, notwithstanding its many attractions.

"The day of his departure for the Mecca of all his earthly hopes

turned out very stormy. It was after dark before he reached the

point, and on trying to land his boat filled with water. He lost

many of his fowls and came near losing his life in the boiling

surf. After getting himself and his 'traps' ashore, he built a

fire, dried his blankets, fried some bacon, ate a hearty supper

and turned in.

"The excitement of the day, however, prevented sleep, and he got

up and sat by the fire till morning. As soon as it was light he

strolled out to look at the stock, but to his surprise, only a

bewildering maze of logs and interminable stumps were to be seen

where he expected to behold broad fields and green pastures. The

only thing he could find resembling stock were--to use his own

language--'an old white horse, stiff in all his joints and blind

in one eye, and a little, runty, scrubby, ornery, steer calf.'

After wandering about over and under logs till noon, he concluded

he had missed the doctor's farm, and returned to the beach with

the intention of pulling further around, but seeing some men in a

boat a short distance from shore, he hailed it and inquired for

Dr. Maynard's farm. Charley Plummer was one of the party and he

told the old man that he had the honor of being already upon it.

Stanley explained his object in being there, and after a fit of

rib-breaking laughter, Mr. Plummer advised him to return to

Salmon Bay as soon as possible, which he did the very next day.

"The old man had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and joined

heartily in the laugh, saying he had been taken in a great many

times in his life, but never in so laughable manner as on this

occasion. A few days afterward as Charley Plummer was sitting in

Dr. Maynard's office the hermit put in an appearance. 'Good

afternoon, doctor,' said he, with an air of profound respect.

'Why, how do you do, Uncle Stanley, glad to see you--how does the

poultry ranch prosper? By the way, have you moved to Alki Point

yet?' 'O, yes, I took my traps, poultry and all, over there

several days ago, and had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Plummer

there. Did he mention the circumstances?' 'No,' said the doctor,

'he just came in. How did you find things?'

"'To tell the truth, doctor, I couldn't rest until I could see

you and thank you from the bottom of my heart for the inestimable

blessing you have conferred upon me.'

"At this demonstration of satisfaction uttered with an air of

profound gratitude, the doctor leaned back complacently in his

easy chair, while an expression of benignant self-approval

illuminated his benevolent face.

"'Yes,' continued he, 'I can never be sufficiently grateful for

the benefit your generosity has already been to me individually,

besides it bids fair to prove a signal triumph for religion and

morality, and it may turn out to be a priceless contribution to

science.'

"At the utterance of this unexpected 'rhapsody' the doctor turned

with unalloyed delight, and seeing that the old man hesitated, he

encouraged him by saying, 'Go on, Uncle, go right along and tell

all about it, although I can't understand exactly how it can

prove a triumph for religion or science.'

"'Well,' continued the old man with solemn countenance, 'my

orthodoxy has been a little shaky of late, in fact I have

seriously doubted the heavenly origin of various forms of

inspiration, but when I got to Alki Point and looked around my

skepticism fell from my eyes as did the scales from the eyes of

Saul of old.'

"'Yes,' interrupted the doctor, 'the scenery over there is really

grand and I have often felt devotional myself while contemplating

the grand mountain scenery----'

"'Scenery? Well--yes, I suppose there is some scenery scattered

around over there, but it isn't that.'

"'No, well what was it, uncle?'

"'Why, sir, as I was saying, when I get a chance to fairly look

around I was thoroughly satisfied that nothing but a miracle, in

fact, nothing short of the ingenuity and power of the Almighty

could possibly have piled up so many logs and stumps to the acre

as I found on your _farm_.'

"Here the doctor's face perceptibly lengthened and a very dry

laugh, a sort of hysterical cross between a chuckle and a

suppressed oath, escaped him, but before he had time to speak the

old man went on:

"'So much for the triumph of religion, but science, sir, will be

under much weightier obligations to us when you and I succeed in

making an honest living from the progeny of an old blind horse

and a little, miserable runty steer calf.'

"This was too much for the doctor and springing to his feet he

fairly shouted, 'There, there, old man, not another word! come

right along and I will stand treat for the whole town and we will

never mention Alki Point again.'

"'No, thank you,' said the hermit, dryly, 'I never indulge, and

since you have been the means of my conversion you ought to be

the last man in the world to lead me into temptation, besides our

income from the blind horse and runty steer calf will hardly

justify such extravagance.'

"Hat and cane in hand he got as far as the door, when Maynard

called to him saying, 'Look here, old man, I hope you're not

offended, and if you will say nothing about this little matter,

I'll doctor you the rest of your life for nothing.'

"After scratching his head a moment the hermit looked up and

naively answered, 'No, I'm not mad, only astonished, and as for

your free medicine, if it is all as bitter as the free dose you

have just given me, I don't want any more of it,' and he bowed

himself out and was soon lost to the doctor's longing gaze. With

eyes still fixed on the door he exclaimed, 'Blast my head if I

thought the old crackling had so much dry humor in him. Come,

Charley, let's have something to brave our nerves.'"

Among the unfortunate victims of the drink habit in an early day was

poor old Tom Jones. Nature had endowed him with a splendid physique, but

he wrecked himself, traveling downward, until he barely lived from hand

to mouth. He made a house on the old Conkling place, up the bay toward

the Duwampsh River, his tarrying place. Having been absent from his

customary haunts for a considerable time, it was reported that he was

dead. In the village of Seattle, some marauder had been robbing

henroosts and Tom Jones was accused of being the guilty party.

Grandfather John Denny told one of his characteristic stories about

being awakened by a great commotion in his henhouse, the lusty cocks

crowing "Tom Jo-o-o-ones is dead! Tom Jo-o-o-ones is dead!" rejoicing

greatly that they were henceforth safe.

D. T. Denny gathered up seven men and went to investigate the truth of

the report of his demise. They found him rolled up in his blankets, in

his bunk, not dead but helplessly sick. When they told him what they had

come for--to hold an inquest over his dead body, the tears rolled down

his withered face. They had him moved nearer town and cared for, but he

finally went the way of all the earth.

Another of the army of the wretched was having an attack of the "devil's

trimmings," as Grandfather John Denny called them, in front of a saloon

one day and a group stood around waiting for him to "come to"; upon his

showing signs of returning consciousness, _all but one_ filed into the

saloon to get a nerve bracer. D. T. Denny, who relates the incident,

turned away, he being the only temperance man in the group.

CHAPTER III.

TRAILS OF COMMERCE.

Samuel L. Simpson wrote this sympathetic poem concerning the old Hudson

Bay Company's steamer Beaver, the first steam vessel on the North

Pacific Coast. She came out from London in 1836 and is well remembered

by Puget Sound pioneers. In 1889 she went on the rocks in Burrard Inlet,

British Columbia.

THE BEAVER'S REQUIEM.

"Forlorn in the lonesome North she lies,

That never again will course the sea,

All heedless of calm or stormy skies,

Or the rocks to windward or a-lee;

For her day is done

And her last port won

Let the wild, sad waves her minstrel be.

"She will roam no more on the ocean trails,

Where her floating scarf of black was seen

Like a challenge proud to the shrieking gales

By the mighty shores of evergreen;

For she lies at rest

With a pulseless breast

In the rough sea's clasp and all serene.

"How the world has changed since she kissed the tide

Of the storied Thames in the Georgian reign,

And was pledged with wine as the bonny bride

Of the West's isle-gemmed barbaric main--

With a dauntless form

That could breast the storm

As she wove the magic commercial chain.

"For Science has gemmed her brow with stars

From many and many a mystic field,

And the nations have stood in crimsoned wars

And thrones have fallen and empires reeled

Since she sailed that day

From the Thames away

Under God's blue sky and St. George's shield.

"And the world to which, as a pioneer,

She first came trailing her plume of smoke,

Is beyond the dreams of the clearest seer

That ever in lofty symbols spoke--

In the arts of peace,

In all life's increase,

And all the gold-browed stress invoke.

"A part of this was a work of hers,

In a daring life of fifty years;

But the sea-gulls now are her worshipers,

Wheeling with cries more sad than tears,

Where she lies alone

And the surges moan--

And slowly the north sky glooms and clears.

"And may we not think when the pale mists glide,

Like the sheeted dead by that rocky shore,

That we hear in the rising, rolling tide

The call of the captain's ring once more?

And it well might be,

So forlorn is she,

Where the weird winds sigh and wan birds soar."

The development of the most easily reached natural resources was

necessarily first.

The timber and fisheries were a boundless source of wealth in evidence.

As early as 1847, a sawmill run with power afforded by the falls of the

Des Chutes at Tumwater, furnished lumber to settlers as a means of

profit.

The first cargo was taken by the brig _Orbit_ in 1850, to San Francisco,

she being the first American merchant vessel in the carrying trade of

Puget Sound. The brig _George Emory_ followed suit; each carried a

return cargo of goods for trade with the settlers and Indians.

At first the forest-fallers had no oxen to drag the timbers, after they

were hewn, to the water's edge, but rolled and hauled them by hand as

far as practicable. It was in this manner that the brig _Leonesa_ was

loaded with piles at Alki in the winter of 1851-2, by the Dennys, Terry,

Low, Boren and Bell.

Lee Terry brought a yoke of oxen to complete the work of loading, from

Puyallup, on the beach, as there was no road through the heavy forest.

Several ships were loaded at Port Townsend, where the possession of

three yoke of oxen gave them a decided advantage.

One ship, the _G. W. Kendall_, was sent from San Francisco to Puget

Sound for ice. It is needless to say the captain did not get a cargo of

that luxury; he reported that water did not freeze in Puget Sound and

consoled the owner of the ship by returning with a valuable cargo of

piles.

The cutting of logs to build houses and the grubbing of stumps to clear

the land for gardens alternated with the cutting of piles. In the

clearing of land, the Indians proved a great assistance; far from being

lazy many of them were hard workers and would dig and delve day after

day to remove the immense stumps of cedar and fir left after cutting the

great trees. The settlers burned many by piling heaps of logs and brush

on them, others by boring holes far into the wood and setting fire,

while some were rent by charges of powder when it could be afforded.

The clearing of land in this heavily timbered country was an item of

large expense if hired, otherwise of much arduous toil for the owner.

The women and children often helped to pile brush and set fires and many

a merry party turned out at night to "chunk up" the blazing heaps; after

nightfall, their fire-lit figure flitting hither and yon against the

purple darkness, suggested well-intentioned witches.

Cutting down the tall trees, from two hundred fifty to four hundred

fifty feet, required considerable care and skill. Sometimes we felt the

pathos of it all, when a huge giant, the dignified product of patient

centuries of growth, fell crashing, groaning to the earth. This side of

the subject, is presented in a poem "The Lone Fir Tree," not included in

this volume.

When finally the small patches of land were cleared, planted and tended,

the returns were astonishing, such marvelous vegetables, small fruits

and flowers, abundant and luxuriant, rewarded the toiler. Nature

herself, by her heaps of vegetation, had foreshown the immense

productiveness of the soil.

In the river valleys were quite extensive prairies, which afforded

superior stock range, but the main dependence of the people was in the

timber.

In 1852 H. L. Yesler came, who built the first steam sawmill on Puget

Sound, at Seattle. Other mills sprang up at Port Ludlow, Port Gamble,

Port Madison and Port Blakely, making the names of Meigs, Pope, Talbot,

Keller, Renton, Walker, Blinn and others, great in the annals of

sawmilling on Puget Sound.

This very interesting account concerning Yesler's sawmill and those who

worked in it in the early days was first published in a Seattle paper

many years ago:

"The other day some of Parke's men at work on the foundation of

the new Union Block on Front, corner of Columbia Street, delving

among ancient fragments of piles, stranded logs and other debris

of sea-wreck, long buried at that part of the waterfront, found

at the bottom of an excavation they were making, a mass of

knotted iron, corroded, attenuated and salt-eaten, which on being

drawn out proved to be a couple of ancient boom-chains.

"The scribe, thinking he might trace something of the history of

these ancient relics, hunted up Mr. Yesler, whom, after

considerable exploration through the mazes of his wilderness on

Third and Jefferson Streets, he found, hose in hand, watering a

line of lilies, hollyhocks, penstemons, ageratums, roses, et al.

"The subject of the interview being stated, Mr. Yesler proceeded

to relate: 'Yes, after I got my mill started in 1853, the first

lot of logs were furnished by Dr. Maynard. He came to me and said

he wanted to clear up a piece on the spit, where he wanted to lay

out and sell some town lots. It was somewhere about where the New

England and Arlington now stand. The location of the old mill is

now an indeterminate spot, somewhere back of Z. C. Miles'

hardware store. The spot where the old cookhouse stood is in the

intersection of Mill and Commercial Streets, between the Colman

Block and Gard. Kellogg's drug store. Hillory Butler and Bill

Gilliam had the contract from Maynard, and they brought the logs

to the mill by hand--rolled or carried them in with handspikes. I

warrant you it was harder work than Hillory or Bill has done for

many a day since. Afterwards, Judge Phillips, who went into

partnership with Dexter Horton in the store, got out logs for me

somewhere up the bay.

"'During the first five years after my mill was started, cattle

teams for logging were but few on the Sound, and there were no

steamboats for towing rafts until 1858. Capt. John S. Hill's

"_Ranger No. 2_," which he brought up from San Francisco, was the

first of the kind, and George A. Meigs' little tug _Resolute_,

which blew up with Capt. Johnny Guindon and his crew in 1861,

came on about the same time. A great deal of the earliest logging

on the Sound was done exclusively by hand, the logs being thrown

into the water by handspikes and towed to the mill on the tide by

skiffs.

"'In 1853 Hillory Butler took a contract to get me out logs at

Smith's Cove. George F. Frye was his teamster. In the fall of

1854 and spring and summer of 1855, Edward Hanford and John C.

Holgate logged for me on their claims, south of the townsite

toward the head of the bay. T. D. Hinckley was their teamster,

also Jack Harvey. On one occasion, when bringing in a raft to the

mill, John lost a diary which he was keeping and I picked it up

on the beach. The last entry it contained read: "June 5, 1855.

Started with a raft for Yesler's mill. Fell off into the water."

I remember I wrote right after "and drowned," and returned the

book. I don't know how soon afterward John learned from his own

book of his death by drowning.

"'The Indian war breaking out in the fall of '55 put a stop to

their logging operations, as of all the rest.

"'The Indians killed or drove off all the cattle hereabouts and

burned the dwellings of Hanford, Holgate and Bell on the borders

of the town, besides destroying much other property throughout

the country.

"'The logging outfits in those days were of the most primitive

and meager description. Rafts were fastened together by ropes or

light boom-chains. Supplies of hardware and other necessaries

were brought up from San Francisco by the lumber vessels on their

return trips as ordered by the loggers. I remember on one

occasion Edmund Carr, John A. Strickler, F. McNatt and John Ross

lost the product of a season's labor by their raft getting away

from them and going to pieces while in transit between the mill

and the head of the bay. My booming place was on the north side

of the mill along the beach where now the foundations are going

up for the Toklas & Singerman, Gasch, Melhorn and Lewis brick

block. There being no sufficient breakwater thereabouts in those

times, I used often to lose a great many logs as well as

boom-chains and things by the rafts being broken up by storms.

"'My mill in the pioneer times before the Indian war furnished

the chief resource of the early citizens of the place for a

subsistence.

"'When there were not enough white men to be had for operating

the mill, I employed Indians and trained them to do the work.

George Frye was my sawyer up to the time he took charge of the

_John B. Libby_ on the Whatcom route. My engineers at different

times were T. D. Hinckley, L. V. Wyckoff, John T. Moss and

Douglass. Arthur A. Denny was screw-tender in the mill for quite

a while; D. T. Denny worked at drawing in the logs. Nearly all

the prominent old settlers at some time or other were employed in

connection with the mill in some capacity, either at logging or

as mill hands. I loaded some lumber for China and other foreign

ports, as well as San Francisco.'"

The primitive methods, crude appliances and arduous toil in the early

sawmills have given place to palaces of modern mechanical contrivance

it would require a volume to describe, of enormous output, loading

hundreds of vessels for unnumbered foreign ports, and putting in

circulation millions of dollars.

As a forcible contrast to Mr. Yesler's reminiscence, this specimen is

given of modern milling, entitled "Sawing Up a Forest," representing the

business of but one of the great mills in later days (1896) at work on

Puget Sound:

"The best evidence of the revival of the lumber trade of the

Sound, is to be found at the great Blakeley mill, where four

hundred thousand feet of lumber is being turned out every

twenty-four hours, and the harbor is crowded with ships destined

for almost all parts of the world.

"One of the mill officials said, 'We are at present doing a large

business with South American and Australian ports, and expect

with proper attention to secure the South African trade, which,

if successful, will be a big thing. We have the finest lumber in

the world, and there is no reason why we should not be doing five

times the business that is being done on the Sound. Why, there is

some first quality and some selected Norway lumber out there on

the wharf, and it does not even compare with our second quality

lumber.'

"The company has at present (1896) 350 men employed and between

$15,000.00 and $20,000.00 in wages is paid out every month.

"The following vessels are now loading or are loaded and ready to

sail:

"Bark Columbia, for San Francisco, 700,000 feet; ship Aristomene,

for Valparaiso, 1,450,000 feet; ship Earl Burgess, for Amsterdam,

1,250,000 feet; bark Mercury, for San Francisco, 1,000,000 feet;

ship Corolla, for Valparaiso, 1,000,000 feet; barkentine Katie

Flickinger, for Fiji Islands, 550,000 feet; bark Matilda, for

Honolulu, 650,000 feet; bark E. Ramilla, for Valparaiso, 700,000

feet; ship Beechbank, for Valparaiso, 2,000,000 feet.

"To load next week:

"Barkentine George C. Perkins, for Sidney, N. S. W., 550,000

feet; bark Guinevere, for Valparaiso, 850,000 feet.

"Those to arrive within the next two weeks:

"Bark Antoinette, for Valparaiso, 900,000 feet; barkentine J. L.

Stanford, for Melbourne, 1,200,000 feet; ship Saga, for

Valparaiso, 1,200,000 feet; bark George F. Manson, for Shanghai,

China, 950,000 feet; ship Harvester, for South Africa, 1,000,000

feet."

Shingle making was a prominent early industry. The process was slow,

done entirely by hand, in vivid contrast with the great facility and

productiveness of the modern shingle mills of this region; in

consequence of the slowness of manufacture they formerly brought a much

higher price. It was an ideal occupation at that time. After the mammoth

cedars were felled, sawn and rived asunder, the shingle-maker sat in the

midst of the opening in the great forest, towering walls of green on all

sides, with the blue sky overhead and fragrant wood spread all around,

from which he shaped the thin, flat pieces by shaving them with a

drawing knife.

Cutting and hewing spars to load ships for foreign markets began before

1856.

As recorded in a San Francisco paper:

"In 1855, the bark Anadyr sailed from Utsalady on Puget Sound,

with a cargo of spars for the French navy yard at Brest. In 1857

the same ship took a load from the same place to an English navy

yard.

"To China, Spain, Mauritius and many other places, went the

tough, enduring, flexible fir tree of Puget Sound. The severe

test applied have proven the Douglas fir to be without an equal

in the making of masts and spars.

"In later days the Fram, of Arctic fame, was built of Puget Sound

fir."

The discovery and opening of the coal mines near Seattle marks an epoch

in the commerce of the Northwest.

As early as 1859 coal was found and mined on a small scale east of

Seattle.

The first company, formed in 1866-7, was composed of old and well-known

citizens: D. Bagley, G. F. Whitworth and Selucius Garfield, who was

called the "silver-tongued orator." Others joined in the enterprise of

developing the mines, which were found to be extensive and valuable.

Legislation favored them and transportation facilities grew.

The names of McGilvra, Yesler, Denny and Robinson were prominent in the

work. Tramways, chutes, inclines, tugboats, barges, coalcars and

locomotives brought out the coal to deep water on the Sound, across

Lakes Washington and Union, and three pieces of railroad. A long trestle

at the foot of Pike Street, Seattle, at which the ship "Belle Isle,"

among others, often loaded, fell in, demolished by the work of the

teredo.

The writer remembers two startling trips up the incline, nine hundred

feet long, on the east side of Lake Washington, in an empty coal car,

the second time duly warned by the operatives that the day before a car

load of furniture had been "let go" over the incline and smashed to

kindlingwood long before it reached the bottom. The trips were made

amidst an oppressive silence and were never repeated.

The combined coal fields of Washington cover an area of one thousand six

hundred fifty square miles. Since the earliest developments great

strides have been made and a large number of coal mines are operated,

such as the Black Diamond, Gilman, Franklin, Wilkeson, the U. S.

government standard, Carbonado, Roslyn, etc., with a host of underground

workers and huge steam colliers to carry an immense output.

The carrying of the first telegraph line through the dense forest was

another step forward. Often the forest trees were pressed into service

and insulators became the strange ornaments of the monarchs of the

trackless wilderness.

Pioneer surveyors, of whom A. A. Denny was one, journalists, lawyers and

other professional men, with the craftsmen, carpenters who helped to

repair the Decatur and build the fort, masons who helped to build the

old University of Washington, and other industrious workers brought to

mind might each and every one furnish a volume of unique and

interesting reminiscence.

The women pioneers certainly demand a work devoted to them alone.

Simultaneously with the commercial and political development, the

educational and religious took place. The children of the pioneers were

early gathered in schools and the parents preceded the teachers or

supplemented their efforts with great earnestness. Books, papers and

magazines were bountifully provided and both children and grown people

read with avidity. For many years the mails came slowly, but when the

brimming bags were emptied, the contents were eagerly seized upon, and

being almost altogether eastern periodical literature, the children

narrowly escaped acquiring the mental squint which O. W. Holmes speaks

of having affected the youth of the East from the perusal of English

literature.

The pioneer mail service was one of hardship and danger. The first mail

overland in the Sound region was carried by A. B. Rabbeson in 1851, and

could not have been voluminous, as it was transported in his pockets

while he rode horseback.

A well known mail carrier of early days was Nes Jacob Ohm or "Dutch

Ned," as every one called him. He, with his yellow dog and sallow

cayuse, was regarded as an indispensable institution. All three stood

the test of travel on the trail for many years. The yellow canine had

quite a reputation as a panther dog, and no doubt was a needed

protection in the dark wild forest, but he has long since gone where the

good dogs go and the cayuse probably likewise.

"Ned" was somewhat eccentric though a faithful servant of the public. In

common with other forerunners of civilization he was a little

superstitious.

One winter night, grown weary of drowsing by his bright, warm fireplace

in his little cabin, he began to walk back and forth in an absent-minded

way, when suddenly his hair fairly stood on end; there were two stealthy

shadows following him every where he turned. In what state of mind he

passed the remainder of the night is unknown, but soon after he related

the incident to his friends evincing much anxiety as to what it might

signify. Probably he had two lights burning in different parts of the

room or sufficiently bright separate flames in the fireplace.

Doubtless it remained a mystery unexplained to him, to the end of his

days.

The pioneer merchants who traded with the Indians, and swapped calico

and sugar for butter and eggs, with the settlers, pioneer steamboat men

who ran the diminutive steamers between Olympia and Seattle, pioneer

editors, who published tri-weeklies whose news did not come in daily,

pioneer milliners who "did up" the hats of the other pioneer women with

taste and neatness, pioneer legislators, blacksmiths, bakers,

shoemakers, foundry men, shipbuilders, etc., blazed the trails of

commerce where now there are broad highways.

CHAPTER IV

BUILDING OF THE TERRITORIAL UNIVERSITY.

Early in 1861, the University Commissioners, Rev. D. Bagley, John

Webster and Edmund Carr, selected the site for the proposed building,

ten acres in Seattle, described as a "beautiful eminence overlooking

Elliott Bay and Puget Sound." A. A. Denny donated eight and a fraction

acres, Terry and Lander, one and a fraction acres. The structure was

fifty by eighty feet, two stories in height, beside belfry and

observatory. There were four rooms above, including the grand lecture

room, thirty-six by eighty feet, and six rooms below, beside the

entrance hall of twelve feet, running through the whole building.

The president's house was forty by fifty, with a solid foundation of

brick and cement cellar; the boarding house twenty-four by forty-eight,

intended to have an extension when needed. A supply was provided of the

purest spring water, running through one thousand four hundred feet of

charred pump logs.

Buildings of such dimensions were not common in the Northwest in those

days; materials were expensive and money was scarce.

It was chiefly through the efforts of John Denny that a large

appropriation of land was made by Congress for the benefit of the

new-born institution. Although advanced in years, his hair as white as

snow, he made the long journey to Washington city and return when months

were required to accomplish it.

By the sale of these lands the expense of construction and purchase of

material were met. The land was then worth but one dollar and a half per

acre, but enough was sold to amount to $30,400.69.

At that time the site lay in the midst of a heavy forest, through which

a trail was made in order to reach it.

Of the ten-acre campus, seven acres were cleared of the tall fir and

cedar trees at an expense of two hundred and seventy-five dollars per

acre, the remaining three were worse, at three hundred and sixteen

dollars per acre.

The method of removing these forest giants was unique and imposing. The

workers partially grubbed perhaps twenty trees standing near each other,

then dispatched a sailor aloft in their airy tops to hitch them together

with a cable and descend to terra firma. A king among the trees was

chosen whose downfall should destroy his companions, and relentlessly

uprooting it, the tree-fallers suddenly and breathlessly withdrew to

witness a grand sight, the whole group of unnumbered centuries' growth

go crashing down at once. They would scarcely have been human had they

uttered no shout of triumph at such a spectacle. To see but one great,

towering fir tree go grandly to the earth with rush of boughs and

thunderous sound is a thrilling, pathetic and awe-inspiring sight.

About the center of the tract was left a tall cedar tree to which was

added a topmast. The tree, shorn of its limbs and peeled clean of bark,

was used for a flagstaff.

The old account books, growing yearly more curious and valuable, show

that the majority of the old pioneers joined heartily in the undertaking

and did valiant work in building the old University.

They dug, hewed, cleared land, hauled materials, exchanged commodities,

busily toiled from morn to night, traveled hither and yon, in short did

everything that brains, muscle and energy could accomplish in the face

of what now would be deemed well nigh insurmountable obstacles. The

president of the board of commissioners, the Rev. D. Bagley, has said

that in looking back upon it he was simply foolhardy. "Why, we had not a

dollar to begin with," said he; nevertheless pluck and determination

accomplished wonders; many of the people took the lands at one dollar

and a half an acre, in payment for work and materials.

Clarence B. Bagley, son of Rev. D. Bagley, is authority for the

following statement, made in 1896:

"Forty-eight persons were employed on the work and nearly all the

lumber for the building was secured from the mills at Port

Blakeley and Port Madison, while the white pine of the finishing

siding, doors, sash, etc., came from a mill at Seabeck, on Hood

Canal. I have been looking over the books my father kept at that

time and find the names of many persons whom all old-timers will

remember. I found the entry relating to receiving 10,000 brick

from Capt. H. H. Roeder, the price being $15.50 per thousand,

while lime was $3 per barrel and cement $4.50 per barrel. Another

entry shows that seven gross of ordinary wood screws cost in that

early day $9.78. Capt. Roeder is now a resident of Whatcom

County. The wages then were not very high, the ordinary workman

receiving $2 and $2.25 per day and the carpenters and masons $4

per day.

"On the 10th of March, John Pike and his son, Harvey Pike, began

to clear the ground for the buildings and a few days later James

Crow and myself commenced. The Pikes cleared the acre of ground

in the southeast corner and we cleared the acre just adjoining,

so that we four grubbed the land on which the principal building

now stands. All the trees were cut down and the land leveled off,

and the trees which now grace the grounds started from seeds and

commenced to grow up a few years later and are now about

twenty-five years old. Among the men who helped clear the land

were: Hillory Butler, John Carr, W. H. Hyde, Edward Richardson,

L. Holgate, H. A. Atkins, Jim Hunt, L. B. Andrews, L. Pinkham,

Ira Woodin, Dr. Josiah Settle, Parmelee & Dudley, and of that

number that are now dead are Carr, Hyde, Holgate, Atkins and

Parmelee and Dudley. Mr. Crow is now living at Kent and owns a

good deal of property there. Mr. Carr was a relative of the

Hanfords. Mr. Holgate was a brother of the Holgate who was killed

in Seattle during the Indian war, being shot dead while standing

at the door of the fort. He was an uncle of the Hanfords. Mr.

Atkins was mayor of the town at one time.

"R. King, who dressed the flagstaff, is not among the living. The

teamsters who did most of the hauling were Hillory Butler, Thomas

Mercer and D. B. Ward, all of whom are still living. William

White was blacksmith here then and did a good deal of work on the

building. He is now living in California and is well-to-do, but

his son is still a resident of Seattle. Thomas Russell was the

contractor for putting up the frame of the university building.

He died some time since and of his estate there is left the

Russell House, and his family is well known. John Dodge and John

T. Jordan did a good deal of the mason work, both of whom are now

dead, but they have children who still live in this city. The

stone for the foundation was secured from Port Orchard and the

lime came from Victoria, being secured here at a large cost."

George Austin, who raised the flagstaff and put the top on, has been

dead many years. Dexter Horton and Yesler, Denny & Co. kept stores in

those days and furnished the nails, hardware and general merchandise.

Mr. Horton's store was where the bank now stands and the store of

Yesler, Denny & Co. was where the National Bank of Commerce now stands.

L. V. Wyckoff, the father of Van Wyckoff, who was sheriff of the county

for many years, did considerable hauling and draying. He also is dead.

Frank Mathias was a carpenter and did a good deal of the finishing work.

He died in California and his heirs have since been fighting for his

estate.

H. McAlear kept a stove and hardware store and furnished the stoves for

the building. He is now dead and there has been a contest over some of

his property in the famous Hill tract in this city.

D. C. Beatty and R. H. Beatty, not relatives, were both carpenters. The

former is now living on a farm near Olympia and the latter is in the

insane asylum at Steilacoom. Ira Woodin is still alive and is the

founder of Woodinville. In the early days Mr. Woodin and his father

owned the only tannery in the country, which was located at the corner

of South Fourth Street and Yesler Avenue, then Mill Street. O. J. Carr,

whose name appears as a carpenter, lives at Edgewater. He was the

postmaster of the town for many years.

O. C. Shorey and A. P. DeLin, as "Shorey & DeLin," furnished the desks

for the several rooms and also made the columns that grace the front

entrance to the building.

Plummer & Hinds furnished some of the materials used in the

construction. George W. Harris, the banker, auditor of the Lake Shore

road, is a stepson of Mr. Plummer.

Jordan and Thorndyke were plasterers and both have been dead for many

years.

David Graham, who did some of the grading, is still living in Seattle.

A. S. Mercer did most of the grading with Mr. Graham. Mr. Mercer is a

brother of Thomas Mercer, who brought out two parties of young ladies

from the Atlantic Coast by sea, many of whom are married and are now

living in Seattle. Harry Hitchcock, one of the carpenters, is now dead.

Harry Gordon was a painter and was quite well known for some years. He

finally went East, and I think is still living, although I have not

heard from him for many years. Of the three who composed the board of

university commissioners Mr. Carr and Mr. Webster are dead.

All the paint, varnishes, brushes, etc., were purchased in Victoria and

the heavy duties made the cost very high; in fact, everything was costly

in those days. An entry is made of a keg of lath nails which cost $15,

and a common wooden wheelbarrow cost $7. The old bell came from the

East, and cost, laid down in Seattle, $295. It cost $50 to put in

position, and thus the whole cost was nearly $350. It is made of steel

and was rung from the tower for the first time in March, 1862.

The only tinner in the place covered the cupola where hung the bell. Its

widely reaching voice proclaimed many things beside the call to studies,

fulfilling often the office of bell-buoy and fog-horn to distracted

mariners wandering in fog and smoke, and giving alarm in case of fire.

The succeeding lines set forth exactly historical facts as well as

expressing the attachment of the old pupils to the bell and indeed to

the university itself:

THE VOICE OF THE OLD UNIVERSITY BELL.

A vibrant voice thrilled through the air,

Now here, now there, seemed everywhere;

My young thoughts stirred, laid away in a shroud,

And joyfully rose and walked abroad.

It was long ago in my youth and pride,

When my young thoughts lived and my young thoughts died,

And often and over all unafraid

They wander and wander like ghosts unlaid.

Through calm and storm for many a year,

I faithfully called my children dear,

And honest and urgent have been my tones

To hurry the laggard and hasten the drones,

But earnest and early or lazy and late

They toiled up the hill and entered the gate,

Across the campus they rushed pell-mell

At the call of the old University bell.

If danger menaced on land or sea,

The note of warning loud and free;

Or a joyous peal in the twilight dim

Of the New Year's dawn, after New Year's hymn.

If a ship in the bay floated out ablaze,

Or the fog-wreaths blinded the mariner's gaze,

Safe into port they steered them well,

Cheered by the old University bell.

When Lincoln the leader was stricken low,

O! a darker day may we never know,

A bitter wail from my heart was wrung

To float away from my iron tongue,

On storm-wing cast it traveled fast,

Above me writhed the flag half-mast.

My children wept, their fathers frowned,

With clenched hands looked down to the ground,

For the saddest note that ever fell

From the throat of the old University bell.

But deep was the joy and wild was the clamor,

With leaping hot haste they hurried the hammer,

When the battles were fought and the war was all over,

O'er the North and the South did the peace angels hover;

My children sang sweetly and softly and low

"The Union forever, is safe now we know,"

The years they may come and the years they may go,

And hearts that were loyal will ever be so.

There's a long roll-call, I ring over all

That have harkened and answered in the old hall;

Adams and Andrews, (from A unto Z,

Alphabetic arrangement as any can see),

Bonney and Bagley and Mercer and Hays,

Francis and Denny in bygone days,

Hastings and Ebey, the Oregon Strongs,

And many another whose name belongs

To fame and the world, or has passed away

To realms that are bright with endless day.

The presidents ruled with a right good will,

Mercer and Barnard, Whitworth and Hill,

Anderson, Powell, Gatch and Hall,

Harrington now and I've named them all.

Witten and Thayer, Hansee and Lee,

The wise professors were fair to see,

They strictly commanded, did study compel

At the call of the old University bell.

Osborne, McCarty, Thornton and Spain,

With their companions in sunshine and rain,

Back in the seventies, might tell what befell

At the ring of the old University bell.

The eighties came on and the roll-call grew longer

Emboldened with learning, my voice rang the stronger;

The day of Commencement saw young men and maids

Proudly emerge from the classic shades

Where oft they had heard and heeded well

The voice of the old University bell.

They bore me away to a shrine new and fine,

Where the pilgrims of learning with yearning incline;

Enwrapped they now seem, in a flowery dream,

The stars of good fortune so radiant beam.

Of the long roll call not one is forgot,

If sorrow beset them or happy their lot;

My wandering children all love me so well,

Their life-work done, they'll wish a soft knell

Might be tolled by the old University bell.

Such is the force of habit that it was many years before I could shake

off the inclination to obey the imperative summons of the old

University bell.

With other small children, I ran about on the huge timbers of the

foundation, in the dusk when the workmen were gone, glancing around a

little fearfully at the dark shadows in the thick woods, and then

running home as fast as our truant feet could carry us.

The laying of the cornerstone was an imposing ceremony to our minds and

a significant as well as gratifying occasion to our elders.

The speeches, waving of flags, salutes, Masonic emblems and service with

the music rendered by a fine choir, accompanied by a pioneer melodeon,

made it quite as good as a Fourth of July.

All the well-to-do ranchers and mill men sent their children from every

quarter. The Ebeys of Whidby Island, Hays of Olympia, Strongs of Oregon,

Burnetts of down Sound and Dennys of Seattle, beside the children of

many other prominent pioneers, received their introduction to learning

beneath its generous shelter. A cheerful, energetic crowd they were with

clear brains and vigorous bodies.

The school was of necessity preparatory; in modern slang, a University

was rather previous in those days.

But all out-of-doors was greater than our books when it came to physical

geography and natural history, to say nothing of botany, geology, etc.

Observing eyes and quick wits discovered many things not yet in this

year of grace set down in printed pages.

A curious thing, and rather absurd, was the care taken to instruct us in

"bounding" New Hampshire, Vermont and all the rest of the Eastern

states, while owing to the lack of local maps we were obliged to gain

the most of our knowledge of Washington by traveling over it.

The first instruction given within its walls was in a little summer

school taught by Mrs. O. J. Carr, which I attended.

Previous to this my mother was my patient and affectionate instructor,

an experienced and efficient one I will say, as teaching had been her

profession before coming west.

Asa Mercer was at the head of the University for a time, followed by W.

E. Barnard, under whose sway it saw prosperous days. A careful and

painstaking teacher with a corps of teachers fresh from eastern schools,

and ably seconded in his efforts by his lovely wife, a very accomplished

lady, he was successful in building up the attendance and increasing the

efficiency of the institution. But after a time it languished, and was

closed, the funds running low.

Under the Rev. F. H. Whitworth it again arose. It was then run with the

common school funds, which raised such opposition that it finally came

to a standstill.

D. T. Denny was a school director and county treasurer at the same

time, but could not pay any monies to the University without an order

from the county superintendent. On one occasion he was obliged to put a

boy on horseback and send him eleven miles through the forest and back,

making a twenty-two mile ride, to obtain the required order.

The children and young people who attended the University in the old

times are scattered far and wide, some have attained distinction in

their callings, many are worthy though obscure, and some have passed

away from earthly scenes.

We spoke our "pieces," delivered orations, wrote compositions, played

ball games of one or more "cats" and many old-fashioned games in and

around the big building and often climbed up to the observatory to look

out over the beautiful bay and majestic mountains. That glistening sheet

of water often drew the eyes from the dull page and occasionally an

unwary pupil would be reminded in a somewhat abrupt fashion to proceed

with his researches.

One afternoon a boy who had been gazing on its changing surface for some

minutes, caught sight of a government vessel rounding the point, and

jumped up saying excitedly, "There's a war ship a-comin'!" to the

consternation though secret delight of the whole school.

"Well, don't stop her," dryly said the teacher, and the boy subsided

amid the smothered laughter of his companions.

Cupid sometimes came to school then, as I doubt not he does in these

days, not as a learner but distracter--to those who were his victims.

It's my opinion, and I have it from St. Catherine, he should have been

set on the dunce block and made to study Malthus.

Two notable victims are well remembered, one a lovely blonde young girl,

a beautiful singer; the other as dark as a Spaniard, with melting black

eyes and raven tresses. They did not wait to graduate but named the

happy day. The blonde married a Democratic editor, well known in early

journalism, the other a very popular man, yet a resident of Seattle.

The whole of the second story of the University consisted of one great

hall or assembly room with two small ante-rooms. Here the school

exhibitions were held, lectures and entertainments given. Christmas

trees, Sunday schools, political meetings and I do not know what else,

although I think no balls were ever permitted in those days, a modern

degeneration to my mind.

The old building has always been repainted white until within a few

years and stood among the dark evergreen a thing of dignity and beauty,

the tall fluted columns with Doric capitals being especially admired.

But changes will come; a magnificent, new, expensive and ornate edifice

has been provided with many modern adjuncts--and the old University has

been painted a grimy putty color!

The days of old, the golden days, will never be forgotten by the

students of the old University, which, although perhaps not so

comfortable or elegant nor of so elevated a curriculum as the new,

compassed the wonderful beginnings of things intellectual, sowing the

seed that others might harvest, planting the tree of knowledge from

which others should gather the fruit.

CHAPTER V.

A CHEHALIS LETTER, PENNED IN '52.

Mound Prairie, Chehalis River, near

Mr. Ford's Tavern, Lewis County,

Oregon Territory. 14 Nov. 1852.

My dear Elizabeth:

I believe this is the first letter I have addressed to you since we

removed from Wisconsin, and I feel truly thankful to say that through

the infinite mercy of God both my family and self have been in the

enjoyment of excellent, uninterrupted health.

The last letter we received from Wisconsin was from my brother Thomas,

complaining of our long silence. We found, too, that Mr. James' long

letter, containing an account of our route--arrival in Oregon--our

having made a claim on the Clackamas, with description of it--and all

our progress up to February last, had been received. So here begins the

next chapter. About the middle of March we removed into our new log

house; here we found everything necessary to make a homestead

comfortable and even delightful--a beautiful building spot on a pleasant

knoll of considerable extent--a clear brook running along within a few

yards of our door; and surrounded by the grandest mountain scenery--and

more than that, decidedly healthy. Within walking distance of Oregon

City and Milwaukee, and eight miles from Portland. With all these

advantages the boys could not reconcile themselves to it on account of

the great lack of grass which prevails for twenty miles 'round.

Brush of all description, Hazel, Raspberry, Salal, Rose, Willow and Fern

grow to a most gigantic size. And in February what appeared to us and

others--a kind of grass--sprang up quickly over the ground and mountain

side; nor was it 'till May, when it blossomed out, that we discovered

what we hoped would be nourishment for our cattle, was nothing more than

the grass Iris, and fully accounted for the straying of our cattle and

the constant hunt that was kept up by our neighbors and selves after

cattle and horses.

In fact we soon found that this was no place for cattle until it had

been subdued and got into cultivation. To make the matter worse we were

every now and then in the receipt of messages and accounts from our

friends and acquaintances who were located, some in Umpqua, some in the

Willamette Valley, some at Puget Sound. Those from Umpqua sent us word

that there was grass enough all winter, on one claim for a thousand head

of cattle. Mr. Lucas in the Callipooiah Mountains at the head of the

Willamette, sent us pressing invitations to come up and settle by him,

where he had grass as high as his knees in February. In the Willamette

the first rate places were all taken up. Samuel and Billy joined in

begging their father to make a tour north or south to see some of these

desirable places. Finally he was induced, though rather reluctantly (so

well he liked our pleasant home and so confident was he of raising grass

and grain) to visit one or the other after harvest. We finished our

harvest in July and in August Mr. J., accompanied by Billy, set off on a

journey of exploration to the north. The land route lay along the north

bank of the Columbia for sixty miles to the mouth of the Cowlitz, then

thirty miles up that river over Indian trails, all but impassable. This

brought them into the beautiful prairies of Puget Sound, sixty or

seventy miles through which brought them to that branch of the Pacific.

They returned after an absence of between three and four weeks. So well

were Mr. James and Billy pleased with the country that they made no

delay on their return in selling out their improvements which they had

an opportunity of doing immediately. We had milked but two cows during

the summer, but even with the poor feed we had, I had kept the family in

butter and sold $20 worth, but then I had fifty cents and five shillings

per pound. As to my poultry, I obtained with some difficulty the favor

of a pullet and a rooster for $2.00. In March I added another hen to my

stock, and so rapidly did they increase, that in September I had, small

and big, eighty. After keeping six pullets and a rooster for myself, I

made $25.00 off the rest, so you may judge by a little what much will

do in Oregon.

Well, it is time for me to take you on board the Batteaux, as I wish you

all had been on the 16th of September, when we set sail down the

Willamette from Milwaukee. After two days we entered the Columbia, one

of the noblest of rivers. After three days, with a head wind all the

time, we entered the mouth of the Cowlitz, a beautiful stream, but so

swift that none but Indians can navigate it. We had to hire five Indians

for $50.00 to take us up. Four days brought us to what is called the

upper landing of the Cowlitz. Here ended our river travel--by far the

most pleasant journey I ever made. There we met Samuel and Billy who

with Tom had taken the cattle by the trail. We halted at a Mr.

Jackson's, where we stopped for a fortnight, while Mr. J. and the boys

journeyed away in search of adventures and a claim.

On the banks of the Chehalis, 30 miles north of where we stopped and 30

miles south of the Sound, they found a claim satisfactory in every

respect to all parties, and what was not a little, we found a cabin a

great deal better than the one we found last winter.

The Indians told us that _tennes_ (white) Jack, who _momicked_ (worked)

it had _clatawawed_ (traveled or went) to California in quest of

_chicamun_ (metal) and had never _chacooed_ (come back), so we entered

on _tennes_ Jack's labours. As a farm and location, this certainly

exceeds our most sanguine expectations. I often thought last year that

we had bettered our conditions from what they were in Wisconsin, and now

I think we have improved ours ten times beyond what we then were.

Our claim is along the banks of the Chehalis, a navigable river which

empties into the Pacific at Grays Harbor, about 70 miles below us. A

settlement is just commenced at the mouth of the river and a sawmill is

erected 10 miles below us, or rather is building. These are all the

settlements on the river below us, and our nearest neighbor above us is

6 miles up. A prairie of 10 miles long and varying in width from 2 to 4

miles stretched away to the north of us, watered with a beautiful stream

of water and covered with grass at this time as green as in May.

A stream of water flows within a few yards of our house, so full of

salmon that Tom and Johnny could with ease catch a barrel in an hour;

they are from 20 to 30 lbs. in a fish. Besides which we have a small

fish here very much resembling a pilchard.

We are blessed with the most beautiful springs of water, one of which

will be enclosed in our door yard. As far as I can learn there are in

the thickest settled parts of this portion of Oregon, about one family

in a township--many towns are not so thickly settled. We are the only

inhabitants of this great prairie except a few Indians who have a

fishing station about a mile from us. These are on very friendly terms

with us, supplying us with venison, wild fowl and mats at a very

reasonable price, as we are the only customers and we in return letting

them have what _sappalille_ (flour) and molasses we can at a reasonable

price, which they are always willing to pay. Soap is another article I

am glad to see in request among them. And it affords them no little

amusement to look at the plates of the Encyclopedia. But I fear it will

be long before they will be brought to _momick_ the _illahe_ (earth).

They are the finest and stoutest set of Indians we have seen.

We converse with them by means of a jargon composed of English, French

and Chinook, and which the Indians speak fluently, and we are getting to

_waw-waw_ (speak) pretty well. My children, I am thankful to say, look

better than I ever saw them in America; they have not had the least

symptoms of any of the diseases that they were so much afflicted with in

Wisconsin. And now, my dear Elizabeth, if wishing would bring you here,

you should soon be here in what appears to me to be one of the most

delightful portions of the globe. But then, ever since I have been in

America I have regarded a mild climate as a "pearl of great price" in

temporal things and felt willing to pay for it accordingly and I have

not had the least reason to think I have valued it too high. Many and

many a year has passed since I have enjoyed life as I have since I have

been in Oregon.

I should have told you that the Chehalis is one of the most beautiful

rivers in Oregon. Our claim stretches a mile along the north bank of it.

It flows through quite an elevated part of the country. Our house,

though within a few rods of the river, has one of the finest views in

Oregon, the prairie stretching away to the north like a fine lawn,

skirted on each side by oak and maple, at this time in all the brilliant

hues of Autumn; behind, on gently rising hills, forests of fir and cedar

of most gigantic height and size; farther still to the northeast rises

the ever snow-clad mountains of Rainier and St. Helens, on the opposite

side to the southwest of the coast range, so near that we can see the

trees on them. So magnificent are those immense snow mountains that none

but those who have seen them can form any idea of it.

This prairie takes its name from a remarkable mound about a mile from

our house; it stands in about 25 acres and is 100 feet high, with a pure

spring half way up. The rest of the prairie is almost level without a

spring except in the margin. The soil of the mound, as well as some of

the margin, has just enough clay to make it a rich and excellent soil;

the rest of the prairie is deficient in clay; it has a rich black mould

overlaying two feet deep, resting on substratum of sand and gravel,

which in some places is so mixed with the soil as to give it the name

of a gravelly prairie. You might have the choice of fifty such prairies

as this and some better on this river. Farmers were never better paid in

the world, even my little dairy of two cows has for the month past

turned me in, at least I have sold butter to the amount of two and a

half bushels of wheat a day at Wisconsin prices of 30 cents, and have by

me 26 pounds for which I shall have at least 60 cents or $1.00 per

pound. I now milk three cows; we have four; and Mr. James means to add

two more and a few sheep. Mr. J. sold the worst yoke of cattle he had

for $160.00. Cows are worth from $50.00 to $100.00; sheep are from $5.00

to $9.00; chickens, 60 cents to $1.00 each; eggs, 50 cents per dozen;

dry goods and groceries just the same as in the states; wheat $3.00 per

bushel. We left our wheat on the Clackamas to be threshed. They, Samuel

and Billy, are now preparing to put in ten acres of fall wheat, potatoes

are $2.00 per bushel. Indians easy to hire, both men and women, at

reasonable wages. Extensive coal mines of excellent quality have been

discovered within 15 miles of this place. But all these things are

secondary in my estimation compared with the climate, which is allowed

by all English to be superior to their native clime.

It makes me very sad to think how we are separated as a family, never to

meet again (at least in all probability) under one roof. O, that we may

all meet at least at the right hand of God, let this be our sole concern

and our path will be made plain in temporals.

You have the advantage of us in schools, churches and society, but I

feel quite patient to wait the arrival of those blessings in addition to

those we enjoy. This letter will be accompanied by a paper to Mr.

McNaves, "_The Columbian_," published at Olympia, Puget Sound. Mr. James

has just written an article for it, entitled the "Rainy Season." I

wonder how Amy and Edward are getting on; how I wish they were here. Do

you think they will ever come over? Should any of you (of course I

include any old friends and acquaintances at Caledonia) determine on

removing to this part, the instructions in my husband's letter are the

best we can give.

There has been great suffering on the road this year. We have seen a

great many families who came through in a very fair manner, some of them

without even the loss of a single head of cattle; these were among the

first trains; among the latter the loss of cattle and lives was awful.

Some horrid murders were committed on the road, for which the murderers

were tried and shot or hung on the spot. The papers say there will be

fifteen thousand added to the population of Oregon by this year's

emigration. It is in contemplation to open a road through from Grand

Ronde on to Puget Sound, which will shorten the distance at least 300

miles and out of the very worst of the road. Samuel and Billy are

determined to come to meet you on the new route with Jack and Dandy, and

more if wanted. Now we are settled in earnest you shall hear from us

oftener and hope we shall the same from you. Give my kindest and best

love to Mother. One old lady, about her age, crossed the plains when we

did; she was alive and well when we left the other side of the Columbia.

I must introduce to you an old acquaintance--the Rooks--caw! caw! caw!

all around us. We have a rookery on our farm. It is now the 28th of

Nov., a fortnight since I wrote the above, in hopes that it would be on

its passage to Wisconsin ere this, but was disappointed of sending to

the postoffice. Weather warm and sunshiny as May, two or three white

frosts that vanished with the rising of the sun are all we have had, not

the slightest prospect of sleighing nearer than the slopes of Mt.

Rainier.

I have just asked all hands for the dark side of Oregon, not one could

mention anything worth calling such. Mr. J. says the shades are so light

as to be invisible. The grey squirrel on the south of the Columbia was

the most formidable enemy to the farmer; more of that when I write next.

My kindest love to all the dear children; how I long to see them all

again, particularly Anna; O, that she may be a very good girl. Richard

and Allan often talk of writing to Avis and Lydia. How are Mr. and Mrs.

Welch and family? How gladly would I welcome them to my humble cabin. I

cannot help thinking, too, that Mrs. W. and I could enjoy ourselves here

on the green sward and in looking at the beautiful evergreen shrubs and

plants on the banks of the Chehalis, though we might be overtaken by a

mild sprinkling. A canoe on the waters of that beautiful stream would

help to compensate for the loss of a sleigh on the snows of Wisconsin,

particularly when it can be enjoyed at the same season of the year. But

I suppose I must look upon all this as a Utopian dream, as I expect few

if any of you would barter your comfortable house for a log cabin; well,

it is my home, and I hope I have not given you an exaggerated

description of it. I wished my husband to write a more particular

description of the soil and its productions than I could give, but he

was in no writing mood. He says the prairies as far as he has seen are

not equal to Iowa or Illinois, but for climate and health he thinks

Oregon equals if not surpasses most parts of the world.

* * * * *

Well, I must bid you good-bye, with kind regards to Mr. and Mrs.

Drummond, with all my other friends in Yorkville, Mr. Moyle and Susan,

with all my friends and acquaintances in Caledonia. I will write again,

all's well, about Christmas, and hope you will attend to the same rate

and write once in a month. Farewell my dear sister. Yours in true

affection,

A. M. JAMES.

P. S.--If Jane and Dick are married, I will risk saying that the best

thing they can do is to come here. All the children send their love to

you all. I should be thankful for a few flower seeds.

CHAPTER VI

SOME PIONEERS OF PORT TOWNSEND.

In Port Townsend and Seattle papers of 1902 appeared the following items

of history pertaining to settlers of Port Townsend:

"Port Townsend, Feb. 15, 1902.--On Friday, February 21, there is

to be held in Port Townsend a reunion of old settlers to

celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the landing at this place

of some of the first white families to settle on Puget Sound

north of the little town of Steilacoom.

"Much interest is being manifested in the coming celebration

among the old-timers on Puget Sound, many of whom have already

responded to invitations that have been sent them. Most of these

letters contain interesting anecdotes or references touching the

past. One of them is from Judge E. D. Warbass, of San Juan

county, who writes from 'Idlewild,' his country home, near Friday

Harbor, under date of February 1. In his letter to J. A. Kuhn,

whom he addresses as 'My Dear Ankutty Tillikum,' he says:

"'This is my birthday, born in A. D. 1825. Please figure up the

time for yourself. I have just finished my breakfast and chores,

and will get this letter off on the 9 o'clock mail. I am

sincerely obliged for the honor of being invited to come to the

Port Townsend celebration and to prepare and read some

reminiscences of my experiences during all these years. I hope to

be able to do so, and will, if I can, but you know I am no longer

the same rollicking Ed, but quite an old man. However, I am

willing to contribute my mite towards making your celebration a

success, and weather and health permitting, will be there. Delate

mika siam.'

"A. A. Plummer, Sr., and Henry Bacheller came to Port Townsend by

sailing vessel from San Francisco, in the fall of 1851, and

remained here during the winter. A few days after they arrived

here, L. B. Hastings and F. W. Pettygrove came in overland from

Portland, carrying their blankets on their backs. They soon

decided to return to Portland and bring their families over. Mr.

Hastings arranged with Plummer and Bacheller to build a cabin for

him by the time he returned.

"He and Pettygrove went back to Portland, and soon afterward Mr.

Hastings bought the schooner Mary Taylor. He made up a party of

congenial people, and on February 9, 1852, the Mary Taylor sailed

from the Columbia river with the following named persons, and

their families, on board: L. B. Hastings, F. W. Pettygrove,

Benjamin Ross, David Shelton, Thomas Tallentyre and Smith Hayes.

The last named had no family.

"On February 19 the schooner passed in by Cape Flattery, and on

the afternoon of the 20th came upon the Hudson Bay settlement on

Vancouver Island, at Victoria. Present survivors of the trip, who

were then children, recall how their fathers lifted them up to

their shoulders and pointed out the little settlement, telling

them at the same time that that country belonged to England, and

of their own purpose of crossing over to the American side and

there establishing a home for themselves. That night the schooner

dropped anchor in Port Townsend bay.

"Early next morning--February 21--the schooner was boarded by

Quincy A. Brooks, deputy collector and inspector of customs. Mr.

Brooks had arrived here only a few hours ahead of the Mary

Taylor, coming from Olympia and bringing with him the following

customs inspectors: A. M. Poe, H. C. Wilson and A. B. Moses.

These men had been sent here by the collector of customs to

investigate stories of smuggling being carried on between the

Hudson Bay Company and Indians on the Sound. The customs

officials were camped on the beach. With them were B. J. Madison

and William Wilton, the former of whom later settled here. A. A.

Plummer and Henry Bacheller were also camped on the beach here at

the same time, having been here since their arrival from San

Francisco in the preceding fall.

[Illustration: SHIP "BELLE ISLE" LOADING COAL, 1876]

"Early in the forenoon of February 21 all on board the schooner

Mary Taylor were landed on the beach and immediately began the

work of carving out homes for themselves in what was then a

wilderness thickly inhabited by Indians. Mr. Hastings found his

cabin ready for occupancy, all but the roof, which had not been

put on. A temporary roof was constructed and the family moved in.

That night twelve inches of snow fell, it being the first snow

that had fallen here during the entire winter. Mr. Hastings'

schooner afterward made several trips between the Columbia river

and the Sound, bringing additional families here.

"The present survivors of the Mary Taylor's passengers are the

following: L. W. D. Shelton and his sister, Mary, Oregon C.

Hastings, Frank W. Hastings, Maria Hastings Littlefield, Benj. S.

Pettygrove and Sophia Pettygrove McIntyre. All but Mr. Shelton

and his sister and Oregon C. Hastings are residents of Port

Townsend.

"Oregon C. Hastings was born in Illinois in 1845, and crossed the

plains in 1849 with his parents. He is living in Victoria.

"Benjamin S. Pettygrove is a native of Portland, Oregon, where he

was born on September 30, 1846. He was the first white male child

born in Portland.

"Frank W. Hastings was born in Portland on November 16, 1848.

"Sophia Pettygrove was born in Portland on November 17, 1848. She

was married on her 17th birthday to Captain James McIntyre, who

lost his life a few weeks ago in the wreck of the steamship

Bristol in Alaskan waters.

"Judge J. A. Kuhn is the moving spirit in the matter of these

pioneers' reunions and in the organization of Native Sons and

Native Daughters lodges. He made a promise to G. Morris Haller of

Seattle, as far back as 1877, he says, that he would take up the

organizations referred to, in the interest of history and

research. The matter remained dormant, however, till the year

1893, when, on March 2, of that year, he instituted in Port

Townsend, Jefferson Camp No. 1, Native Sons of Washington, with

12 members present. The camp now has 118 members. On July 3,

1895, he instituted in Port Townsend, Lucinda Hastings Parlor No.

1, Native Daughters of Washington. There are now in the state

nine camps of Native Sons and four parlors of Native Daughters.

"A. A. Plummer, Sr., now deceased, was one of the fathers of Port

Townsend and was considered quite a remarkable man. He was born

in the state of Maine, March 3, 1822, and was a veteran of the

Mexican war. He fought under Col. Stevens in that conflict and at

its close went to California, going from there to Portland by

sailing vessel in 1850.

"Major Quincy A. Brooks was the second deputy collector of

customs ever sworn into the service in the Puget Sound district.

In January, 1852, he succeeded Elwood Evans as deputy collector

for the district. The collector of customs was then Simpson P.

Moses, of Cincinnati, Ohio, and the custom house was located at

Olympia."

At the reunion on the 21st of February, 1902, many things were brought

to light.

"Among the many stories of early days and reminiscences recalled

at the pioneers' gathering one of the most interesting was Mr.

Shelton's story of the trip of the Mary Taylor from Portland to

Port Townsend. Mr. Shelton had committed his reminiscences to

manuscript as follows:

"'Fifty years ago, some time about the first of February, the

little 75-ton schooner Mary Taylor left Portland, Ore., for Puget

Sound, having on board the families of L. B. Hastings, F. W.

Pettygrove, David Shelton, Thomas Tallentyre, Benjamin Ross and

Smith Hayes. Mr. Hayes had no family here, but I think he had a

family in the East. Mr. Ross had one son, about 20 years old.

"'Our little craft was navigated by Captain Hutchinson and a crew

of four or five men. The families were all old acquaintances.

Those of Hastings, Ross and Shelton crossed the plains together

in 1847, and concluded to cast their fortunes together again in

their last great move, which was to this country.

"'We lay at Astoria several days, waiting for a favorable

opportunity to cross the bar. We made three trials before we

ventured out to sea and were three or four days getting up to

Cape Flattery, where we lay quite a while in a calm. We found

here that we were in soundings, and some of the party commenced

fishing, but all they could catch were dog fish, which we tried

to eat, but we found that they were not the kind of fish that we

cared about.

"'Our first sight of Indians in this part of the country was off

Neah Bay. We were drifting near Waadah Island, when canoes came

swarming out of their village in the bay. We had heard ugly

stories about this tribe, and prepared for them by stacking our

arms around the masts, to be handy in case of need. They were

clamorous to come on board, but we thought that they were as well

off in their canoes as they would be anywhere else. Some of our

party sauntered along the deck with guns in their hands, in view

of the Indians.

"'The Indians then wanted to trade fish for tobacco and trinkets.

A few pieces of tobacco were thrown into their canoes and then

they commenced throwing fish aboard, and such fish for a landsman

to look at! There were bull-heads, rock-cod, kelp-fish, mackerel,

fish as flat as your hand, and skates, and other monstrosities,

the likes of which the most of our party had never seen before,

and when our old cook dished them up for us at dinner we found

that they were fine and delicious. There is where we made the

acquaintance of sea-bass and rock-cod, and we have cultivated

their acquaintance ever since. There were also mussels and clams

among the lot, which we found to be very good. We were surrounded

by another lot of Indians near Clallam Bay, with about the same

performances and with the same results as at Neah Bay.'

"Another incident that I recall happened near Dungeness spit. A

couple of canoes filled with Indians came alongside and as there

was only a few of them they were allowed to come on board. The

tyee of the crowd introduced himself as Lord Jim. He wore a plug

hat, a swallowtailed coat, a shirt and an air of immense

importance. I suppose he had secured his outfit as a 'cultus

potlatch' from persons he had met. He had evidently met several

white people in his time, as he had a number of testimonials as

to his character as a good Indian. I remember of hearing one of

his testimonials read and it impressed me as having come from one

who had studied the Indian character to some effect. It read

something like this:

"'To whom it may concern: This will introduce Lord Jim, a noted

Indian of this part of the country. Look out for him or he will

steal the buttons off your coat.' A further acquaintance with

Lord Jim seemed to inspire the belief that the confidence of the

writer was not misplaced.

"Shortly after we left Lord Jim we sailed along Protection

Island, one of the beauty spots of the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Somewhere along here another thing happened--trivial in its

nature--the memory of which has stayed with me all these years.

Mr. Pettygrove was walking the deck in a meditative manner, when

he happened to feel that he needed a cigar. He called to his son,

Ben, about six years old, and told him to bring him some cigars.

Ben wanted to know how many he should get. His father told him to

get as many as he had fingers on both hands. Ben, proud of his

commission, darted away and soon returned with eight cigars. His

father looked at them a moment and said: 'How is this; you have

only brought me eight cigars?' 'Well,' said Ben, 'that is all the

fingers I have.' 'No,' said his father, 'you have ten on both

your hands.' 'Why, no I haven't,' said Ben, 'two of them are

thumbs,' and I guess Ben was right.

"The next morning, after passing Dungeness Spit, we found our

vessel anchored abreast of what is now the business part of Port

Townsend, which was then a large Indian village. That was

February 21, 1852, fifty years ago today. How it stirs the blood

and quickens the memory to look back over those eventful

years--eventful years for our state, our Pacific Coast and our

entire country--and these years have been equally eventful for

the little band that landed here that day so full of hope and

energy.

"Our fathers and mothers are all gone to their well-earned rest

and reward. Of the thirteen children that were with them at that

time nine are still living, and I am proud of the fact that they

are all respectable citizens of the community in which they live.

They have seen all the history of this part of the country that

amounts to much and in their humble way have helped to make it.

They have helped conquer the wilderness and the savages and have

done their share in laying the foundation of what will be one of

the greatest states of our Union. Their fathers were men of

honesty and more than ordinary force of character, as their deeds

and labors in behalf of their country and families show, and the

mothers of blessed memory--their children never realized the

power for good they were in this world until they were grown and

had families of their own, but they know it now. They know now

how they encouraged their husbands when dark days came; how they

cheerfully shared the trials and hardships incident to those

early pioneer days, and when brighter fortunes came they

exercised the same helpful guiding influence in their well

ordered, comfortable homes that they did in their first log

cabins in the wilderness."

CHAPTER VII.

PERSONNEL OF THE PIONEER ARMY.

A long roll of honor I might call of the brave men and women who dared

and strove in the wild Northwest of the long ago. If I speak of

representative pioneers, those unnamed might be equally typical of the

bold army of "forest-felling kings," "forest-fallers" as well as

"fighters," like those Northland men of old.

There are the names of Denny, Yesler, Phillips, Terry, Low, Boren,

Butler, Bell, Mercer, Maple, Van Asselt, Horton, Hanford, McConaha,

Smith, Maynard, Frye, Blaine and others who felled the forest and laid

foundations at and near Seattle; Briggs, Hastings, Van Bokkelin,

Hammond, Pettygrove with others founded Port Townsend, while Lansdale,

Crockett, Alexander, Cranney, Kellogg, Hancock, Izett, Busby, Ebey and

Coupe, led the van for Whidby Island; Eldridge and Roeder at Bellingham

Bay; toward the head of navigation, McAllister, Bush, Simmons, Packwood,

Chambers, Shelton, are a few of those who blazed the way.

The blows of the sturdy forest-felling kings rang out from many a

favored spot on the shores of the great Inland Sea, cheerful signals for

the thousands to come after them.

[Illustration: WILLIAM R. BOREN REV. D. E. BLAINE CARSON D. BOREN]

These, and the long list of the Here Unnamed, waged the warfare of

beginnings, which required such large courage, independence,

persistence, faith and uncompromising toil, as the velvet-shod

aftercomers can scarcely conceive of.

Simultaneously with the early subjugation of the country, the political,

educational, commercial and social initiatory movements were made of

whose present development the people of Puget Sound may well be proud.

Since the organization of the Washington Pioneer Association in October,

1883, the old pioneers and their children have met year by year in the

lavish month of June to recount their adventures, toils and privations,

and enjoy the sympathy begotten of similar experiences, in the midst of

modern ease and plenty.

A concourse of this kind in Seattle evoked the following words of

appreciation:

"No organization, no matter what its nature might be, could

afford the people of Seattle more gratification by holding its

assemblage in their midst than is afforded them by the action of

the Pioneers' Association of Washington Territory in holding its

annual gathering in this city. Unlike conventions and gatherings

in which only a portion of the community is interested, the

meeting of the pioneers is interesting to all. To some, of

course, the event is of more importance than to others, but all

have an interest in the Pioneers' Association, all have a pride

in the achievement of its members, and all can feel that they

are the beneficiaries of the struggle and hardships of which the

pioneers tell.

"The reminiscences of the pioneers from the history of the first

life breathings of our commonwealth--of a commonwealth which,

though in its infancy, is grand indeed, and which gives promise

of attaining greatness in the full maturity of its powers of

which those who laid the foundations of the state scarcely

dreamed. The pioneers are the fathers of the commonwealth; their

struggles and their hardships were the struggles and the

hardships of a state coming into being. They cleared the forests,

not for themselves alone, but for posterity and for all time. As

they subdued a wild and rugged land and prepared it to sustain

and support its share of the people of the earth, each blow of

their ax was a blow destined to resound through all time, each

furrow turned by their ploughshares that the earth might yield

again and again to their children's children so long as man shall

inhabit the earth. No stroke of work done in the progress of that

great labor was done in vain. None of the mighty energy was lost.

Each tree that fell, fell never to rise. Each nail driven in a

settler's hut was a nail helping to bind together the fabric of

the community. Each day's labor was given to posterity more

surely than if it had been sold for gold to be buried in the

earth and brought forth by delighted searchers centuries hence.

"It is for this that we honor the pioneers. It is for this that

we are proud and happy to have them meet among us. We are their

heirs. Our inheritance is the fruit of their labor, the reward of

their fortitude, the recompense of their hardships. The home of

today, the center of comfort and contentment, the very soul of

the state, could not have been but for the log cabins of forty

years ago. The imposing edifice of learning, the complete system

of education, could not have been but for the crude school house

of the past. The churches and religious institutions of today are

the result of the untiring and unselfish labors of the itinerant

preacher who wandered back and forth, now painfully picking his

way through the forest, now threading with his frail canoe the

silver streams, now gliding over the calm waters of the Sound,

ever laying broad and deep the true foundations of the grand

civilization that was to be. The flourishing cities, the steel

rails that bind us to the world, the stately steamers that,

behemoth-like, journey to and fro in our waters,--these things

could not be but for the rude straggling hamlets, the bridle path

cut with infinite labor through the most impenetrable of forests,

and the canoe which darted arrow-like through gloomy passages,

over bright bays and up laughing waters.

"All honor to the pioneers--all honor and welcome. We say it who

are their heirs, we whose homes are on the land which they

reclaimed from the forests, we who till the fields that they

first tilled, we whose pride and glory is the grand land-locked

sea on which they gazed delighted so many years ago. Welcome to

them, and may they come together again and again as the years

pass away. When their eyes are dim with age and their hair is as

white as the snows that cover the mountains they love, may they

still see the land which they created the home of a great, proud

people, a people loving the land they love, a people honoring and

obeying the laws that they have honored and obeyed so long, a

people honoring, glorying in, the flag which they bore over

treeless plains, over lofty mountains, over raging torrents,

through suffering and danger, always proudly, always confidently,

always hopefully, until they planted it by the shore of the

Western sea in the most beautiful of all lands. May each old

settler, as he journeys year by year toward the shoreless sea,

over whose waters he must journey away, feel that the flag which

he carried so far and so bravely will wave forever in the soft

southwestern breeze, which kisses his furrowed brow and toys with

his silvery hair. May he feel, too, that the love of the people

is with him, that they watch him, lovingly, tenderly, as he

journeys down the pathway, and the story of his deeds is graven

forever on their minds, and love and honor forever on their

hearts."

And so do I, a descendent of a long line of pioneers in America,

reiterate, "Honor the Pioneers."

[Illustration: MRS. LYDIA C. LOW]

LYDIA C. LOW.

Mrs. Low was one of the party that landed at Alki, Nov. 13th, 1851,

having crossed the plains with her husband and children.

I have heard her tell of seeing my father, D. T. Denny, the lone white

occupant of Alki, as she stepped ashore from the boat that carried the

passengers from the schooner.

The Lows did not make a permanent settlement there, but moved to a farm

back of Olympia, thence to Sonoma, Cal., and back again to Puget Sound,

where they made their home at Snohomish for many years. Mrs. Low was the

mother of a large family of nine children, who shared her pioneer life.

Some died in childhood, accidents befell others, a part were more

fortunate, yet she seemed in old age serene, courageous, undaunted as

ever, faithful and true, lovely and beloved.

She passed from earth away on Dec. 11th, 1901, her husband, John D. Low,

having preceded her a number of years before.

OTHER PIONEERS.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Izett of Whidby Island are pioneers of note. Mrs.

Izett crossed the plains in 1847, and in 1852 came to the Sound on a

visit, at the same time Mr. Izett happened to arrive. He persuaded her

not to return to her old home. Mr. Izett in 1850 went to India from

England by way of Cape Horn, and two years later came to Seattle. For

four years he secured spars for the British government at Utsalady. In

1859 he built the first boat of any size to be constructed on Puget

Sound. This was a 100-ton schooner, and she was built at Oak Harbor. In

1862 he framed two of the first Columbia river steamers. Mrs. Izett is a

sister of Mrs. F. A. Chenoweth, whose husband was a judge, with four

associates, of the first Washington territorial tribunal. Another of the

members was Judge McFadden. Mr. Izett knew well Gen. Isaac I. Stevens,

the first governor of the territory. He came to Washington in the fall

of 1859, and issued his first proclamation as governor the following

February. The legislature met soon after.

J. W. MAPLE.

John Wesley Maple was not only one of the oldest settlers of this (King)

county, but he was one of its most prominent men. He figured to some

extent in political life, but during the last few years had retired to

the homestead by the Duwamish, where his father had settled after

crossing the plains nearly fifty years ago, and where he himself met his

death yesterday. (In March of 1902.)

He was born in Guernsey county, Ohio, January 1, 1840. As a little boy

he spent his childhood days near the farm of the McKinleys, and often

during his later years he was fond of relating apple stealing

expeditions in which he indulged as a little boy, and for which the

father of the late President McKinley often chastised him. From Ohio his

father, Jacob Maple, moved to Keokuk, Ia., where he lived near the farm

on which Mayor Humes, of Seattle, was reared.

In 1856, Jacob Maple, the father, and Samuel Maple, the brother of John

W., came to Puget Sound. In 1862 the rest of the family followed them.

In crossing the plains John W. Maple was made captain of the four wagon

trains which were united in the expedition. He guided them to Pendleton,

Ore., where they separated. Thence he came to the Duwamish river, where

his father and brother had settled.

Later Mr. Maple and Samuel Snyder took up a homestead on Squak slough. A

few years after that Mr. Maple went to Ellensburg. He finally returned

to spend the rest of his life on the homestead.

HELD MANY OFFICES.

In the early days he was several times elected to county offices. He was

at one time supervisor for the road district extending from Yesler way

to O'Brien station and to Renton. In 1896 he was elected treasurer of

King county on the Populist ticket. He furnished a bond of $1,600,000.

At the end of his term a shortage was found. Every cent of this was

finally made good by him to those who stood on his bond.

In 1897 Mr. Maple received a complimentary vote on the part of several

members of the state legislature for the office of United States

senator. For this office his neighbors indorsed him, and August

Toellnor, of Van Asselt, was sent by them to Olympia to see what could

be done to further the candidacy. Since the end of his term as treasurer

Mr. Maple has held no office, save that of school director in his

district. Only a week ago Mr. Maple announced to his friends that he had

left the Populist party and had returned to the Republican party, to

which he had belonged prior to the wave of Populism which swept over the

West in the early nineties.

During all of his life he was an ardent student of literature, and he

possessed one of the finest libraries in the state. He was known as a

strong orator, and was during his younger days an exhorter in the

Methodist Protestant church, of which he was a member.

Mr. Maple was married twice. His first wife, who died more than twenty

years ago, was Elizabeth Snyder, a daughter of Samuel Snyder, one of the

oldest residents of the Duwamish valley. Six children were the fruit of

this union, Charles, Alvin B., Cora, now Mrs. Frank Patten; Dora, now

Mrs. Charles Norwich; Bessie, now dead, and Clifford J. Maple. His

second wife was Minnie Borella. Three children were born to her,

Telford C., Lelah and Beulah Maple.

Of his brothers and sisters the following are living: Mrs. Katherine Van

Asselt and Mr. Eli B. Maple, of this city; Mrs. Jane Cavanaugh, of

California; Mrs. Elvira Jones and Mrs. Ruth Smith, of Kent, and Aaron

Maple, who now lives on the old Maple homestead in Iowa.

CHARLES PROSCH AND THOMAS PROSCH.

"The summer in which the gold excitement broke out in the Colville

country, in 1855," said Thomas Prosch, "several members of a party of

gold hunters from Seattle were massacred by the Indians in the Yakima

Valley while on their way to the gold fields. The party went through

Snoqualmie Pass in crossing the mountains. The territorial legislature

sent word to Washington and the government undertook to punish the

guilty tribes by a detachment of troops under Maj. Haller. This was

defeated and war followed for several years. It was most violent in King

county in 1855 and 1856, and in Eastern Washington in 1857 and 1858. The

principal incidents in the West were the massacre of the whites in 1855

and the attack upon Seattle the following year. In 1857 Col. Steptoe

sustained a memorable defeat on the Eastern side of the mountains, and

the hostilities were terminated by the complete annihilation of the

Indian forces in the same locality the following year by Col. Wright. He

killed 1,000 horses and hanged many of the Indians besides the

frightful carnage of the battlefield."

Mr. Prosch and his father, Charles Prosch, with several other members of

his family, arrived in the state and in Seattle between the years 1849

and 1857. Gen. M. M. Carver, the founder of Tacoma, who was Mrs. Thomas

Prosch's father, came to the territory in 1843 with Dr. Whitman, who was

massacred, with Applegate and Nesmith.

Time and strength would fail me did I attempt to obtain and record

accounts of many well known pioneers; I must leave them to other more

capable writers. However, I will briefly mention some who were prominent

during my childhood.

The Hortons, Dexter Horton and Mrs. Horton, the latter a stout,

rosy-cheeked matron whose house and garden, particularly the dahlias

growing in the yard, elicited my childish admiration. I remember how

certain little pioneer girls were made happy by a visit from her, at

which time she fitted them with her own hands some pretty grey merino

dresses trimmed with narrow black velvet ribbon. Also how one of them

was impressed by the sorrow she could not conceal, the tears ran down

her cheeks as she spoke of a child she had lost.

One family have never forgotten the Santa Claus visit to their cottage

home, the same being impersonated by Dexter Horton, who departed after

leaving some substantial tokens of his good will.

The pioneer ministers of the Gospel were among the most fearless of

foundation builders. Reverends Wm. Close, Alderson, Franklin, Doane,

Bagley, Whitworth, Belknap, Greer, Mann, Atwood, Hyland, Prefontaine,

and others; of Rev. C. Alderson, who often visited my father and mother,

Hon. Allen Weir has this to say:

"I remember very clearly when, during the 'sixties,' Brother

Alderson used to visit the settlement in which my father's family

lived at Dungeness, in Clallam county, Washington Territory. He

was then stationed at White River, twelve miles or more south of

Seattle. There was no Tacoma in those days. To reach Dungeness,

Brother Alderson had to walk over a muddy road a dozen miles or

more to Seattle, then by the old steamer Eliza Anderson to Port

Townsend, and then depend upon an Indian canoe twenty-five miles

to the old postoffice at Elliot Cline's house. After his arrival

it would require several days to get word passed around among the

neighbors so as to get a preaching announcement circulated.

Sometimes he would preach at Mr. Cline's house, sometimes at

Alonzo Davis', and sometimes at my father's. He was literally

blazing the trail where now is an highway. The first announcement

of these services in the Dungeness river bottom was when a

bearded, muddy-booted old bachelor from Long Prairie stopped to

halloo to father and interrupt log piling and stump clearing long

enough to say: 'H-a-y! Mr. Weir! The's a little red-headed

Englishman goin' to preach at Cline's on Sunday! Better go an'

git your conschense limbered up.' Everybody knew the road to

Cline's. At each meeting the audience was limited to the number

of settlers within a dozen miles. All had to attend or proclaim

themselves confirmed heathen. The preacher, who came literally as

the 'Voice of one crying in the wilderness,' was manifestly not

greatly experienced at that time in his work--but he was

intensely earnest, courageous, outspoken, a faithful messenger;

and under his ministrations many were reminded of their old-time

church privileges 'back in old Mizzoory,' in 'Kentuck,' or in

'Eelinoy,' or elsewhere. I remember that to my boyish imagination

it seemed a wonderful amount of 'grit' was required to carry on

his gospel work. He made an impression as an honest toiler in the

vineyard, and was accepted at par value for his manly qualities.

He was welcomed to the hospitable homes of the people. If we

could not always furnish yellow-legged chickens for dinner we

always had a plentiful supply of bear meat or venison.

"After Brother Alderson returned to Oregon I never met him again,

except at an annual conference in Albany (in 1876, I think it

was), but I always remembered him kindly as a sturdy soldier of

the Cross who improved his opportunities to administer reproof

and exhortation. The memory is a benediction."

Of agreeable memory is Mrs. S. D. Libby, to whom the pioneer women were

glad to go for becoming headgear--and the hats were very pretty, too, as

well as the wearers, in those days. Good straw braids were valued and

frequently made over by one who had learned the bleacher's and shaper's

art in far Illinois.

A little pioneer girl used often to rip the hats to the end that the

braids might be made to take some new and fashionable form.

"The beautiful Bonney girls," Emmeline, Sarah and Lucy, afterward well

known as Mrs. Shorey, Mrs. G. Kellogg and Mrs. Geo. Harris, might each

give long and interesting accounts of early times. Others I think of are

the John Ross family, whose sons and daughters are among the few native

white children of pioneer families of Seattle (the Ross family were our

nearest neighbors for a long time, and good neighbors they were, too);

the Peter Andrews family, the Maynards, who were among the earliest and

most prominent settlers; Mrs. Maynard did many a kindness to the sick;

the Samuel Coombs family, of whom "Sam Coombs," the patriarch, known to

all, is a great lover and admirer of pioneers; Ray Coombs, his son, the

artist, and Louisa, his daughter, one of the belles of early times; the

L. B. Andrews family; Mr. Andrews was a friend of Grandfather John

Denny, and himself a pioneer of repute; his fair, pleasant, blue-eyed

daughter was my schoolmate at the old U., then new; the Hanfords, valued

citizens, now so distinguished and so well known; Mrs. Hanford's account

of the stirring events of early days was recognized and drawn from by

the historian Bancroft in compiling his great work; the De Lins; the

Burnetts, long known and much esteemed; the Sires family; the Harmons,

Woodins, Campbells, Plummers, Hinds, Weirs of Dungeness, later of

Olympia, of whom Allen Weir is well known and distinguished; yes, and

Port Gamble, Port Madison, Steilacoom and Olympia people, what volumes

upon volumes might have been, might be written--it will take many a

basket to hold the chips to be picked up after their and our _Blazing

the Way_.

HAIL, AND FAREWELL.

Heroic Pioneers!

Of kings and conquerors fully peers;

Well may the men of later day

Proclaim your deeds, crown you with bay;

Forest-fallers, reigning kings,

In that far time that memory brings.

Nor savage beast, nor savage man,

Majestic forests' frowning ban,

Could palsy arms or break the hearts,

Till wilds gave way to busy marts;

You served your time and country well,

Let tuneful voices paeans swell!

O, steadfast Pioneers!

Bowed 'neath the snows of many years,

Your patient courage never fails,

Your strong true prayers arise,

E'en from the heavenly trails

To "mansions in the skies."

To noble ones midst daily strife,

And those who've crossed the plains of life,

Far past the fiery, setting sun,

The dead and living loved as one,

(Tolls often now the passing bell)

We greeting give and bid farewell.

O Mother Pioneers!

We greet you through our smiles and tears;

You laid foundations deep,

Climbed oft the sun-beat rocky steep

Of sorrow's mountain wild,

Descended through the shadowy vales

Led by the little child.

Within, without your cabins rude

As toiling builders well you wrought,

With busy hands and constant hearts,

And eager children wisdom taught;

Long be delayed the passing bell,

Long be it ere we say "Farewell!"

Beloved Pioneers!

Whom glory waits in coming years,

You planted here with careful hand

The youngest scion in our land

Cut from the tree of Liberty;

To fullest stature it shall grow,

With fruitful branches bending low,

Your worth then shall the people know.

When all your work on earth is done,

Your marches o'er and battles won,

(No more will toll the passing bell)

They'll watch and wait at Heaven's gate

To bid you Hail! and nevermore, Farewell!

* * * * *

TRANSCRIBER NOTES:

Punctuation has been normalized.

Footnote has been moved closer to its reference.

Archaic and alternate spellings have been retained with the

exception of those listed below:

page 19: "intenton" changed to "intention" (It is my intention

to).

page 19: "desirablity" changed to "desirability" (beauty and

general desirability).

page 36: "strivinig" changed to "striving" (impotently striving to

stay).

page 38: "clapsed" changed to "clasped" (how she clasped her

little child).

page 49: "Capt" changed to "Cape" (around Cape Flattery and up the

Sound).

page 52: "comformation" changed to "conformation" (and the

conformation of the leg bones).

page 54: "To" changed to "Too" (Too littlee boat for too muchee

big waters).

page 61: "of" changed to "off" (the salmon they got off the

Indians).

page 66: "[A]pheasant'" changed to "[A]pheasant's" (bringing

some wild [A]pheasant's eggs the men).

page 73: "funiture" changed to "furniture" (the furniture of their

cabin).

page 74: "buldings" changed to "buildings" (historic buildings

erected and occupied).

page 79: "to" changed to "too" (where my men go, I go too).

page 85 and 263: "Klikitats" changed to "Klickitats" to match

spelling using in other places in the book.

page 86 and 277: "whiskey" changed to "whisky" to match spelling

in other places in the book.

page 90: "descrtuction" changed to "destruction" (looked

sorrowfully upon the vandal destruction).

page 103: "wth" changed to "with" (Not yet satisfied with the work

of execution).

page 114: "exhilirating" changed to "exhilarating" (found to be an

exhilarating pastime).

page 114: "baloonlike" changed to "balloonlike" (a balloonlike

inflation).

page 119: "prespiration" changed to "perspiration" (and

perspiration ooze from every pore).

page 119: "necleus" changed to "nucleus" (to be the nucleus of a

great collection).

page 129: "isnt'" changed to "isn't" (Well, it isn't yours).

page 131: "Denny's" changed to "Dennys'" (to and fro in the

Dennys' cottage).

page 141: "childrens'" changed to "children's" (The children's

graves)

page 147: "occured" changed to "occurred" (The first occurred when

I was a small child).

page 149: "well-night" changed to "well-nigh" (its head was

well-nigh severed from its body).

page 154: "swop" changed to "swap" (so he told the Indian he would

swap his girl).

page 154: "cattles'" changed to "cattle's" (the cattle's feet

burned)

page 156: "Taulatin" changed to "Tualatin" (Then we moved out to

the Tualatin Plains).

page 159: "was" changed to "what" (Arriving at what was called)

page 164: "already" changed to "all ready" (We were all ready to

start).

page 169: "hasty-constructed" changed to "hastily-constructed" (to

cross them in hastily-constructed boats).

page 170: "hardlly" changed to "hardly" (I can hardly imagine how

any one could understand).

page 210: "convenince" changed to "convenience" (what is their

daily convenience).

page 240: "withour" changed to "without" (and without murmur).

page 253: "culumny" changed to "calumny" (humiliation, calumny,

extreme and underserved).

page 254: "reptitions" changed to "repetitions" (hence there

appear some repetitions).

page 263: "setlement" changed to "settlement" (the women in the

settlement).

page 270: "flower-decekd" changed to "flower-decked"

(flower-decked virgin prairie).

page 276: "shore" changed to "short" (A short time before).

page 290: "diging" changed to "digging" (digging out "suwellas").

page 291: "others" changed to "others'" (best of others'

conclusions).

page 322: "accidently" changed to "accidentally" (he was

accidentally wounded).

page 325: "tims" changed to "times" (few of us here in those early

times).

page 357: "obejct" changed to "object" (And man's the object of

His constant care).

page 360: "have" added to text (and would, if living, have made).

page 361: "pollysyllabic" changed to "polysyllabic" (polysyllabic

language not more like).

page 363: "explantion" changed to "explanation" (an explanation of

his mission).

page 366: "rememben" changed to "remember" (but I do not remember

any).

page 384: "supose" changed to "suppose" (Don't you suppose I can).

page 390: "rythmic" changed to "rhythmic" (Fills our pulses

rhythmic beat).

page 393: "protuded" changed to "protruded" (their feet protruded

below).

page 412: "Or." changed to "Ore." for consistency (Columbia county,

Ore.)

page 422: "tself" changed to "itself" (and had buried itself in

the earth).

page 423: "ecstacy" changed to "ecstasy" (in a mute ecstasy of

mellow satisfaction).

page 424: "Atkin" changed to "Atkins" (Dick Atkins).

page 432: "orothodoxy" changed to "orthodoxy" ('my orthodoxy has

been a little shaky of late).

page 453: "hundrd" changed to "hundred" (at three hundred and

sixteen dollars per acre).

page 454: "foolhardly" changed to "foolhardy" (he was simply

foolhardy).

page 455: "finishishing" changed to "finishing" (while the white

pin of the finishing).

page 482: "the the" changed to "the" (and the family moved in).

page 488: "childred" changed to "children" (their children never

realized).

page 499: "massacreed" changed to "massacred" (who was massacred).