That grand old autocrat Dr. John McLoughlin had word of our arrival,
came out to meet us and in the most courtly manner but with
unaffected ease and dignity, ushered us into his private apartments
where he said we were to be his guests during our stay. We greatly
enjoyed the hospitality of the Doctor, especially after our long and
tiresome journey; and have always looked back with sincere pleasure
to the whole-hearted welcome given us by the representative of
another nation, when we might reasonably have been considered in the
guise of intruders.
A day or so after our arrival, Jason Lee unfolded to Dr. McLoughlin
his plans for establishing a Mission among the Flathead Indians. The
Doctor listened patiently as Rev. Mr. Lee related the details
connected with the project; and then while expressing the
satisfaction he felt at having a Mission located somewhere in the
country, he pointed out the stupendous task of conducting it so far
from a base of supplies.
Everything for the Mission must come by water around the Horn, be
unloaded somewhere on the lower Columbia, and then carried by
batteaux and pack animals a distance of five hundred miles
up-country--a very serious handicap. Jason Lee saw it in the same
light, but did not know what else to do.
Dr. McLoughlin suggested founding a Mission in the Willamette Valley
near French Prairie, where a small settlement of French-Canadians
already existed and there were Indians in the vicinity needing
spiritual as well as temporal enlightenment. Such a point would also
be reasonably accessible for receiving supplies by water.
{254}
So convincing were the facts presented by Dr. McLoughlin in support
of the Willamette Valley as compared with the Flathead country for a
Mission location, that Jason Lee decided to accept his views and
followed his counsel. The Doctor also promised to assist it by every
means in his power compatible with his duties as Chief Factor of the
Hudson's Bay Company; and kept his word.
The Mission established in the Willamette Valley was conducted
successfully until measles and other epidemic diseases introduced by
the whites almost completely annihilated the native population, so
that in ten or twelve years after its founding there were no Indian
children to attend its school. During that time, however, the white
population increased rapidly by accessions to the missionary force,
many newcomers brought from "the States" by glowing descriptions sent
back by earlier arrivals, and the even stronger corroboration of the
surpassing advantages of the new country by men returning east for
missionary reinforcements.
In this again, my friends, I cannot but see the interposition of
Divine Providence. Had our Mission been established among the
Flatheads as originally intended, there would have been no such
influx of American citizens as afterwards followed into the disputed
territory to offset the prestige of the British claim, because that
remote interior region offered no such opportunities for settlement
as the salubrious climate and fertile valleys west of the Cascade
Mountains. So I may well say again, "God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform."
While I have told you, and truthfully, that the Methodists were the
first to answer the call from the Indians beyond the Rocky Mountains,
the Presbyterians and Congregationalists soon followed. In 1835 Rev.
Samuel Parker of Massachusetts, and Dr. Marcus Whitman of New York
State, were sent out by the Missionary Board of that church to
examine into the character and disposition of the tribes residing in
the region from which the {255} four Indians made the long journey to
St. Louis in search of the white man's religion, and report as to the
desirability of establishing a Mission among them.
With that purpose in view, Rev. Mr. Parker and Dr. Whitman crossed
the plains, and in the summer of 1835 arrived at a point in the Rocky
Mountains known as the "Rendezvous," a famous place for trappers and
Indiana to congregate for trading in furs and pelts. They found
encamped there several hundred Nez Perces and Flatheads just returned
from a successful buffalo hunt; and through an interpreter learned
that they were very anxious to have white religious instructors sent
out to them.
This convinced Rev. Mr. Parker that the field was a very promising
one. It was therefore agreed that he should accompany the Indians to
their homes and select a suitable location for a Mission site, while
Whitman would return east and arrange for a missionary party to go
out there under his charge the following spring.
Parker impressed upon Whitman the necessity of having the company
well equipped with everything essential for such an arduous
undertaking, and above all else to provide himself with a good wife.
The Doctor laughed and replied, "That is easier said than done;
however, I may make the attempt."
By their genial manners and evident sincerity of purpose, these two
advance missionary agents while at the Rendezvous won the confidence
of the assembled Indians to such an extent that they permitted
Whitman to select two or three young boys to return with him to "the
States," remain there for the winter, and accompany him back. The
Doctor knew that their presence would have the effect of stimulating
the Board to organize and equip a missionary party with the least
possible delay; and would be tangible proof that the Indians were
earnestly seeking religious instruction. Whitman also realized that
the boys would be of great assistance to the missionaries in crossing
the plains and mountains in the spring.
The Doctor and his wards experienced no serious difficulties on the
journey back to civilization, and arrived {256} at his home in
Rushville, Yates County, New York State, early in the winter. He was
dressed in the picturesque garb of the mountain men--buckskin coat
and trousers decorated with fringes on the arms and legs, moccasins
and bearskin cap, and had not been shaved for several months.
Reaching there late on a Saturday, Whitman did not go all the way
into the village or make his presence known until Sunday, when he
proceeded just as he was, and accompanied by the young Indians, to
the church where services were being held; entered, walked up the
aisle, and became the cynosure of all eyes in the congregation. At
first everyone wondered where the uncouth and wild looking individual
came from, and why he should interrupt the services. After gazing
intently at him for a moment or two his mother, who was in the
audience at the time, exclaimed, "Why if there isn't Marcus."
Services were immediately suspended, and all gathered around to
welcome the intrepid Doctor back from the wilderness, where he had
gone as a soldier of the Lord. He was the hero of the hour, and
every community in that part of the State made an effort to honor him.
But there was one locality where he seemed to relish the attentions
paid him more than in any other, and a house to which he made the
most frequent visits. It was not because of the genial hospitality
of the host--which was proverbial in the vicinity; nor altogether the
fascination of his conversation, though he was a man of culture and
refinement, to whom it was a treat to listen.
The admonition of Rev. Mr. Parker was uppermost in the Doctor's mind,
and beneath that roof dwelt the charming daughter of the household he
had known and admired for a long time, and who he hoped entertained
more than a passing regard for him. He now determined to press his
suit with all the energy of his forceful nature. But before telling
you the results of his efforts in that direction, I should give a
brief sketch of the early life of Narcissa Prentiss, a noble
character whose life and deeds will always occupy a very prominent
place among {257} the pioneers of the Oregon Country--more so,
indeed, than any other woman.
She was the daughter of Judge Stephen Prentiss, a highly respected
and well-to-do citizen of the Lake Region in New York State. Careful
attention was bestowed upon her early education and training, and
every possible advantage given her within reach of people in moderate
circumstances in that part of the country at the time.
In her early teens she is described as about the average in height,
the possessor of an unusually fine and well-rounded form, with blonde
hair and blue eyes. She had winning manners and a remarkably sweet,
well trained voice which naturally made her a popular leader in the
church choir and singing circles.
A romantic incident in her early life greatly impaired her happiness
in after years, as will subsequently appear. While attending the
village school one of the pupils, a boy her senior by a few years,
became enamored of her beauty and sprightly manners. He sang in the
same church choir, was a diligent scholar, had a good voice and was
generally acceptable; thrown together in this way, they became very
good friends. On her part this meant nothing more than congenial
companionship, but with him it ripened into a master passion.
In this frame of mind, he asked her to make a solemn promise to
become his wife as soon as circumstances would permit him to assume
the responsibility of providing suitably for her. She laughed
heartily at his boyish assurance, and said that she was entirely too
young to even think of such a thing; besides, when she did, he would
not appeal to her in that light. Even after this rebuff, he still
hoped that by making no further advances for the present, and abiding
his time, she would gradually come to look more favorably upon him.
A few years later Narcissa Prentiss had become one of the most
attractive young women in that portion of the State--not only
beautiful in person, but with a sweet and lovable disposition that
endeared her to all. She also had a serious turn of mind, and was
foremost in every {258} activity connected with the church of which
her family were members.
Narcissa had almost forgotten the school boy proposal when most
unexpectedly the young man, then about to be ordained for the
ministry, again appeared upon the scene. When he called at the
Prentiss home, she received him in the usual friendly manner and
treated him with the greatest cordiality, for they had been
pleasantly associated in the choir, Sunday School and religious
activities of various kinds, never having had any serious
disagreement--unless the incident already mentioned might be so
considered.
After conversing pleasantly for some time on general topics, he said,
"Narcissa, I have called upon you at this time for a special purpose.
You know that I am now about to become a minister of the gospel, may
be sent to distant parts and separated from all my friends of boyhood
days. This is not a pleasant prospect; but I could bear up under all
those things, sustained by the knowledge that it is in the service of
the Master, were it not that I would be leaving behind to me the most
precious thing on this earth--you, Narcissa, the idol of my
affections. Won't you accept the offer of my hand and heart, and be
my helpmate through life?"
Narcissa, who thought she had firmly squelched the earlier fancy, and
that he had long forgotten to think seriously of ever winning her
hand, was dumfounded. But now in far more earnestness than ever, he
had renewed the effort, apparently under the delusion that he might
be successful. In an instant her mind was made up what to say and
how to act; she must let him know once for all that such a proposal
was unwarranted and repugnant to her.
Arising and standing before him in all the dignity of her womanhood,
she asked, "Have I ever acted toward you in a way you might construe
that I entertained any affection for you, or given any grounds for
you to hope that I might have anything more than just a friendly
feeling towards you? If I have so acted, I'm not aware of {259} it.
Now bear this in mind--never under any circumstances would you be
considered in the light of a lover or husband for me!"
A cloud passed over the brow of the young man as he felt the sting of
her reply, and it is generally believed that a vow of eternal
animosity against what he deemed a haughty and insolent young woman
who had repelled his well-intentioned proposal was made by him.
"Some time you may regret this," he remarked, or words to that
effect, and took his departure.
Narcissa, kind hearted and reluctant to hurt the feelings of anyone,
regretted having wounded his vanity and pride so deeply; but thought
that was the only way his persistent suit could be stopped for all
time. This happened some four years before the return of Dr. Whitman
from the Oregon Country to his home in New York State. About a year
after his rejection by Narcissa Prentiss, Rev. Mr. Spalding was
married to Miss Eliza Hart, a very estimable young woman, and sent
west to engage in missionary work.
Marcus Whitman, although making frequent visits to the Prentiss home,
and received on every occasion by the Judge and his family as a
welcome guest and intimate friend, did not attempt as yet to play the
role of suitor for the hand of Narcissa. He must first know that all
arrangements for the projected missionary expedition were
satisfactorily completed before committing himself in any personal
way that might later prove embarrassing.
It was a matter of considerable importance for the Missionary Board
to assemble and outfit a sufficient number of persons for such an
undertaking; and many investigations and calculations had to be made
before a complete organization was effected. It was considered
necessary to have an ordained minister, and difficult to find one
willing to go. But in the early spring the personnel of the party
was decided upon, and the animals, wagons and supplies purchased so
that the westward movement could begin as soon as the season was far
enough advanced.
{260}
Whitman now decided that the auspicious moment had arrived to take
the important step that had been uppermost in his mind since his
return from the Rocky Mountains. He was of a sanguine temperament
and optimistic by nature, with supreme confidence in his ability to
overcome obstacles; in the vital matter now in hand he felt confident
of success, but was anxious to know what the result would be.
With this purpose in view he mounted his horse and rode hurriedly to
the Prentiss home, finding the Judge out but Narcissa there.
Entering the sitting room, he took a seat and without any
preliminaries remarked, "Well, Narcissa, everything is arranged and
the party will start for the great undertaking in just one month from
now. I said the party was complete, which is not quite correct;
there is yet one vacancy and I have come, Narcissa, to ask you to
fill it by becoming the wife of Marcus Whitman, leader of the party.
"I need not tell you that you hold a higher place in my estimation
than any other living mortal; your womanly intuition has long ago
made you aware of that. I also believe that you entertain for me a
feeling of uncommon friendship, at least--if not more. Am I right or
wrong? Answer me, Narcissa."
"Marcus, this is so abrupt you almost take my breath away, but I will
be just as frank," she replied. "I will go with you."
Taking her hands in his and gazing into the depths of her beaming
blue eyes he exclaimed, "I felt in my soul that you would." Drawing
her nearer and enfolding her in his arms, he imprinted a seal of
affection on her lips.
* * *
Both were naturally well fitted for the task of bringing the light of
the gospel and the advantages of civilization to the Indians. Marcus
Whitman was strong and rugged, with an unlimited capacity for work;
and although a physician, the missionary life appealed to him much
more than the practice of his profession, due {261} probably to
natural inclination and his early training. A knowledge of medicine
was a valuable aid in a region without professional men.
Narcissa Prentiss was in full health and vigor, capable of enduring
the privations and hardships incident to such a life, and of an
intensely religious temperament. She left home, friends and every
association dear to the majority of womankind, and set forth on a
tremendous journey across deserts and over mountain ranges--the way
beset by difficulties and dangers--in order to lend a helping hand in
carrying the "tidings of great joy" to the natives of the far
Northwest.
A great deal of spoken and written eulogy has been bestowed upon the
devotion to duty, courage and fortitude of Marcus
Whitman--unquestionably in great part well merited. So far, little
has been said in praise of the noble qualities of head and heart
possessed by his wife and coworker in the Lord's vineyard. But as
time goes on I have no doubt that historians and poets will exalt her
virtues and sing her praises.
The marriage ceremony in the Presbyterian Church at Angelica, N.Y.,
in February, 1836, was very quiet and simple, as both were opposed to
any undue publicity. But when the members of the congregation became
aware that the missionary party was about to start, it was arranged
to have a farewell party and services on the eve of its departure.
The little church was crowded to capacity; not only was nearly every
member present, but many who were not affiliated came to bid farewell
and Godspeed to this universally beloved member of the community,
which had been the home of the Prentiss family since 1834.
She took her usual place as leader of the choir, while the eyes of
all were riveted upon the pleasing countenance and attractive form of
the one who was about to leave them--perhaps forever. After the
services and singing of appropriate hymns, a time for greetings was
announced; and the whole congregation surged forward, each anxious to
grasp the hand and say a personal word {262} to her whom they loved
so well and were reluctant to let go. Before being dismissed, all
were asked to join in a parting hymn selected for the occasion.
Narcissa led the singing, and when the last verse--beginning with the
words, "Yes, my native land, I love thee"--was begun, audible sobs
were heard through the audience. Before it was finished the pent-up
feelings of the assemblage were unloosed, and the genuine feeling of
sorrow became contagious; handkerchiefs were pulled out, and there
was scarcely a dry eye in the audience. Only the voice of Narcissa
carried the words all the way through; but she never faltered until
it was finished, when she also gave way to the prevailing emotion.
Rev. Henry H. Spalding and his wife were selected by the American
Board of Home Missions to accompany Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. For some
time past the Spaldings had been engaged in missionary work in the
State of Ohio from where, upon the arrival of the Whitmans from New
York State, the four proceeded to Liberty, Missouri, the point at
which final arrangements for the western journey were to be completed.
The Board of Commissioners probably did not take the precaution of
consulting Dr. Whitman as to his choice of companions for the great
task they were entering upon; could Narcissa have had any voice in
the matter, the Spaldings would certainly not have gone with them.
It is to be regretted, for the good of the cause, that such an
appointment was made, as subsequent events will explain. W. H. Gray,
a mechanic, was also designated by the Board to accompany the
missionaries.
Rev. Mr. Spalding was a stockily built man of medium height, with a
large head and rather high forehead; and was a voracious reader,
especially of books on religious and controversial topics. Although
rated, even by his admirers, as a "peculiar" man, he accomplished
commendable results in the mission field for nearly 40 years. Mr.
Spalding died August 3, 1874, in his 71st year, and is buried in the
Nez Perces country a few miles from Lewiston, Idaho.
{263}
His wife, Eliza Hart Spalding, was rather tall and angular, and
though not possessing regular features, had a kindly and intelligent
expression that won many friends. She had the gift of knowing how to
gain the respect and confidence of the Indians, and was conspicuously
successful as a teacher among them. Gray was a self-important
person, with quite a smattering of learning, but inclined to be
self-willed and even insubordinate.
These men and women established the first Indian Missions in the vast
region between the Rocky Mountains and the Cascade Range, nearest the
tribes who had sent the delegation to St. Louis in 1831, seeking a
knowledge of the Christian faith. About the time the missionaries
arrived at Liberty, a number of hunters and trappers in the employ of
the American Fur Company, under the leadership of two experienced
frontiersmen, Milton G. Sublette and Thomas Fitzpatrick, were
assembled there preparing to leave for the Rocky Mountain region on a
trading and fur-hunting expedition.
By this good fortune, the missionaries were able to travel in the
company of a well-equipped outfit, without fear of molestation by
roving bands of Indians on the way. But not everything required for
the long journey had been secured in time to start with the larger
party, which set out two days in advance. Whitman determined to
catch up with the fur hunters before reaching the most dangerous part
of the route, which he did.
Many days were consumed in traversing the bad roads of western
Missouri, which in the spring in those pioneer days were full of ruts
and mud-holes; and the Doctor was the only one of the party with any
previous experiences in that kind of travel. Early in May they were
on the west side of the Missouri River with their wagons, horses and
cattle all in fairly good shape, but on the south side of the Platte
near its mouth. The latter was nearly a mile wide, and the crossing
of it a very formidable undertaking; but it had to be done, for the
Trail continued westward on the north side.
That might be termed the real starting point on the {264} expedition,
as there every vestige of civilization was left behind, and immense
plains and great mountain ranges inhabited only by Indians and wild
animals, extended far out before them. It was a perilous trip in
those days, even for men fond of adventure and thoroughly accustomed
to hardships.
But in the company were two refined and educated women leaving
friends, kindred and the comforts of civilized life to undergo the
discomforts and face the hazards of the long journey. It was a noble
courage, and heroism of the rarest type. Their names should be held
in high veneration by the Christian people of this land for all time
to come; and I believe they will be.
The crossing of the Platte was difficult and wearing; and the burden
of it fell upon Dr. Whitman, as Rev. Mr. Spalding was ill and unable
to help. Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding were taken over in a "bull
boat," a contrivance made by stretching a buffalo hide over small
willow growths. In the process of making, the larger ends were stuck
in the ground, and the smaller ones interlapped, after which a fresh
hide was fastened over them and allowed to dry. Then the ends of the
willows were pulled out of the ground, it was turned upside down--and
called a "boat."
Though a very risky affair in which to cross a wide river, there was
no other available conveyance; so they entered it, at least with a
show of confidence, and were carried safely over. An entire day was
required to get the outfit to the other side; Whitman was obliged to
swim back and forth several times, and by evening was completely
exhausted.
Early the next morning a start was made and the animals were urged
forward at the utmost speed under the circumstances, to overtake the
fur-hunters before the Pawnee villages were passed, as unfriendly
Indians might be encountered beyond. I will not enter into a
detailed account of the many events of interest on their way over the
great plains, but cannot refrain from mentioning a few outstanding
features of the journey.
{265}
When they came within sight of the Elkhorn, a tributary of the
Platte, it presented a very menacing appearance at the height of the
flood-water season. Arriving first at the river, the Indian boys
Whitman had taken back with him the preceding winter saw a skin canoe
on the farther side; completely stripping, they wound their shirts
around their heads and swam over, returning with the canoe by the
time the rest of the party came up to the bank. A rope was then
stretched across, and the goods hauled over in the canoe without much
difficulty.
Those Indian boys were very useful to the missionary party in driving
the loose stock, herding, guarding at night and in many other ways.
They seemed more than willing to render assistance whenever the
occasion called for it; and in initiative were equal if not superior
to white youth of the same age.
About a hundred miles east of the "Rendezvous," the party fell in
with a large number of Indians belonging to tribes west of the
Rockies who came over the mountains every year to hunt buffalo. Some
of them had met the Doctor on his previous trip, and remembered his
intention of bringing missionaries to instruct them in the white
man's way of worshipping; now they manifested great pleasure at
meeting the little party on the way to fulfill the promise made the
year before.
The ladies especially aroused the curiosity and wonder of the
savages, who now for the first time beheld a white woman. No sooner
had Mrs. Whitman alighted from her horse than a number of the native
matrons came forward to welcome her; each one of them shook hands
with her, and at the same time placing the left hand affectionately
upon her shoulder, gave her a hearty kiss. Mrs. Spalding was greeted
in a similar manner.
Both were deeply moved by the cordiality and sincerity of their
welcome by those Indian women, and greatly surprised to learn from
this experience that they have about the same manner of salutation as
their civilized white sisters. It goes to show that regardless of
climate or color, human nature is about the same the world over.
{266}
One of the chiefs present when the ladies arrived soon took his
departure, and returning in a short time with his wife, introduced
her to both of them--with a wave of the right hand towards his squaw
and the left towards the white women, at the same time bowing
politely. When the tents were pitched and occupied by Mrs. Whitman
and Mrs. Spalding after the fatigue of the horseback ride, some of
the Indians, with unabated curiosity, remained in the vicinity and
were occasionally bold enough to peep in and then grin with
astonishment.
Arriving at the "Rendezvous," a long-to-be-remembered sight was
presented to their eyes. There were assembled hundreds of trappers,
hunters, traders and packers--in fact all kinds of mountain men--some
of whom had not seen a white woman in more than twenty years; and
there must also have been some fifteen hundred or two thousand
Indians who had traveled there to trade with the American Fur
Company. All of them, white men and Indians alike, were intent upon
having a good look at the first two white women who had ever
penetrated that far into the wilderness, and were to traverse another
thousand miles or so of rough country before reaching their
destination.
Mrs. Whitman thoroughly enjoyed the novelty and excitement of the
strange situation. Some of the mountain men ventured to approach her
and offer some kind of a compliment, which amused her exceedingly;
but she always answered them with gracious and cordial bearing, and
thus became very popular with these semi-wild and reckless
frontiersmen.
Mrs. Spalding was more interested in the appearance of the natives
among whom she had come to teach, and anxious to acquire a knowledge
of the Nez Perces language. Somewhat from anxiety to see how she
would act, the Indians gathered around her while she tried as best
she could to converse with them.
Before the departure of the missionary company for the Columbia
River, a grand reception and display was planned in its honor. On
the appointed day, the Indian {267} warriors formed a procession in
gala dress at one end of the plain, each of the four tribes being
represented by a company in fighting costume--which was breech-clout,
with plenty of paint and feathers. All were mounted on well-shaped
Indian horses, which though not large were spirited and active.
These fighting braves carried their weapons, and in addition many had
drums, horns and other noise-making instruments. When everything was
in readiness the command was given, and there burst forth from every
painted warrior such a wild and terrifying yell as only aborigines
can utter; then, joining in a mighty chorus of barbarous song, the
cavalcade charged down the valley at frantic speed, brandishing their
weapons and beating drums.
Reaching the farther end of the valley, they whirled around and
dashed back with equal impetuosity, afterwards performing skilful
evolutions in front of the missionary tents. The whole maneuver was
conducted like a preconcerted military movement, the force of six or
seven hundred Indians obeying the signals of the leaders with
machine-like precision.
All members of the missionary party had assembled in front of their
tents before this torrent of furious savages approached and swept by
them with wild gesticulations. Their bronze bodies glistened in the
summer sun and quivered with the great excitement under which they
labored in this mimic attack upon an imaginary foe.
In front of the rushing columns rode a huge warrior of the Snake
tribe, known as "Big Foot," more than six feet tall and well
proportioned. His horse was much larger than the ponies of the other
Indians (most of whom rode bareback); and he had a saddle of the
Mexican pattern, probably secured during a foray into the settlements
of New Mexico Territory.
He raised in his stirrups, whirling a Spanish musketoon and yelling
like a demon, his voice being heard above all the din and uproar.
The whole performance was so realistic that before it ended the
nerves of the women {268} were severely tried; and at its conclusion
the Indians crowded around the tents to further gratify their
curiosity.
The missionaries rested for a few days at the Rendezvous on Green
River and then set out for Fort Hall with only one wagon, the other
having been abandoned by necessity farther east. At the fort, then
owned by the Hudson's Bay Company, they were very kindly received,
but told that it would be virtually impossible to travel any farther
with the wagon. However, on account of Mrs. Spalding's delicate
health, Whitman determined not to give it up until absolutely
necessary.
Owing to the deep sand and large sage-brush about twenty miles below
American Falls on the Snake River, and the extremely rocky surface of
the hills, he was obliged to leave the box and rear wheels there,
converting the remainder into a cart which he managed to take as far
as Fort Boise, where that also was abandoned. With the wagon-box was
left something far more valuable to Narcissa Whitman--a little trunk
which she dearly prized as a present from her sister Harriet. Here
is the way she laments the loss of it:
Friday evening
Dear Harriet:
The little trunk you gave me has come with me so far, and now I must
leave it alone. Poor little trunk! I am sorry to leave you. Twenty
miles below the Falls on Snake River shall be thy place of rest, x x
x x. Narcissa.
My good friends, before proceeding farther with my story I must tell
you that about three years ago I visited the home of Judge Prentiss
in New York State; and the fine old gentleman accorded me the great
privilege of copying the voluminous correspondence written by his
daughter on the journey across the Continent and during the years
spent at the Mission station until her unhappy death. I will at
times quote her exact words describing events intimately connected
with her missionary labors.
She possessed the rare gift of expressing in the most lucid language
the condition of her feelings regarding the {269} many trials and
afflictions it was her lot to bear during their life at Waiilatpu. I
have with me copies of all these letters; and will now read her
description of the crossing of Snake River, as must be done more than
once in your own journey to the "Promised Land":
Preparing to cross Snake River. The river is divided by two islands
into three branches, and is fordable. The packs are placed on the
tallest horses, and in this way we crossed without wetting. Husband
had difficulty with the cart, which was turned upside down in the
river, and the mules entangled with the harness. The mules would
have been drowned but for a desperate struggle to get them ashore.
Then after putting two of the horses before the cart, and two men
swimming behind to steady it, they succeeded in getting it over.
I once thought crossing streams would be the worst part of the
journey. I now do so without fear. There is one manner of
crossing--take an elk skin and stretch it over you, spreading
yourself out as much as possible. Let the Indian women put you on
the water, and with a cord in the mouth they swim and draw you to the
other side.
In four or five days more of travel they arrived at Fort Boise, where
the Snake River had to be recrossed. Again I will quote Mrs. Whitman:
22nd.
Left the Fort yesterday, came a short distance to Snake River;
crossed and encamped for the night. The river has three branches
divided by islands. The first and second places were deep but we had
no difficulty in crossing on horseback. The third was deeper still.
This being a fishing post of the Indians, we found a canoe made of
rushes and willows. Mrs. Spalding and myself placed ourselves and
our saddles in it, and two Indians on horseback with a rope towed us
over. The canoe is made of bunches of rushes tied together and
attached to a frame made of a few sticks of small willows. It was
large enough to hold us and our saddles.
The cart which had been brought from the Falls of Snake River
especially for the accommodation of Mrs. Spalding was abandoned here
and the remainder of the trip to Fort Walla Walla made on horseback.
No serious mishaps befell the little party on this part of the
journey, although it was an exceedingly rugged and difficult region
{270} to traverse. They were tendered a very kindly reception at the
fort by the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a boat was
secured to convey them down the magnificent river to Fort Vancouver.
At forts Hall, Walla Walla and Vancouver, where the missionaries were
guests of the great fur company, all were greatly interested in the
two refined and educated American women who had the pluck and
hardihood to undertake such a long and hazardous journey. Upon
reaching the head of the rapids above The Dalles of the Columbia,
Mrs. Whitman gives an interesting account of what had to be done to
pass safely that formidable obstacle to their progress. She says:
8th.
Came last night to the Chute (above The Dalles), a fall in the river
not navigable. There we slept, and this morning made the portage.
All were obliged to land, unload, carry our baggage and even the boat
for half a mile.
I had frequently seen a picture of Indians carrying a canoe, but now
saw the reality. We found plenty of Indians here to assist in making
the portage. After loading several with our baggage and sending them
on, the boat was turned over and placed upon the heads of about
twenty of them, who easily marched off with it.
September 9th.
We came to The Dalles just before noon. Here our boat was stopped by
two rocks of immense size and height, all the water of the river
passing with great rapidity between them in a very narrow channel.
We were obliged to land and make a portage of two and a half miles,
carrying the boat again.
The Dalles is a great fishing resort for Indians of several tribes;
we did not see many, however, for they had just left.
[Illustration: DR. JOHN McLOUGHLIN, CHIEF FACTOR OF THE HUDSON'S BAY
COMPANY, WELCOMING MRS. MARCUS WHITMAN AND MRS. HENRY H. SPALDING AT
FORT VANCOUVER ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER, IN THE FALL OF 1836: SEE
OPPOSITE PAGE]
At Vancouver they were also cordially received and hospitably
entertained by that grand old man, Dr. John McLoughlin. It was a
never to be forgotten sight for me to observe this representative of
the all-powerful English fur company, of towering stature and
knightly dignity, standing with hat in hand at the portal of the fort
graciously bending to salute and welcome the two first white women to
set foot upon the immense territory over which he then held
undisputed sway. It was not a mere formal {271} greeting, but a
genuine expression of satisfaction to see devoted men and women
coming into the territory to improve both the spiritual and temporal
condition of his Indian wards, in whose welfare he was deeply
interested--for McLoughlin was by nature benevolent.
In consultation with Whitman, he advised the latter to establish his
Mission somewhere east of the Cascade Mountains, for the reason that
the Indians of the interior were mentally and physically superior to
those near the coast, as well as more likely to adopt the rudiments
of civilization and accept Christianity from the missionaries.
Thereupon Whitman, Spalding and Gray returned up the Columbia to the
vicinity of Fort Walla Walla for the purpose of selecting a site,
while the women remained at Fort Vancouver as Dr. McLoughlin's guests
until a Mission House could be erected.
After looking over the country for several days they decided that a
point called Waiilatpu, on the Walla Walla River about thirty miles
from its mouth, would be a desirable location for a Mission, as it
was convenient to the habitat of the Cayuse and Walla Walla tribes
and reasonably near the headquarters of the Hudson's Bay Company for
that vicinity, in case trouble should arise. Work was immediately
begun upon the construction of a comfortable log dwelling roofed with
poles covered with straw and dirt thrown upon the top, which very
well suited the purpose for which it was intended.
A site for another Mission to be in charge of Rev. Mr. Spalding was
located among the Nez Perces on the Clearwater River about 100 miles
northeast of Waiilatpu. Mr. Spalding then returned to Fort Vancouver
for the ladies, while Dr. Whitman continued work on the dwelling. In
about three weeks Mrs. Whitman arrived at Waiilatpu, and the
Spaldings went on to the Clearwater.
At this isolated and unattractive Mission in the midst of uncivilized
and unappreciative aborigines, practically shut off from people of
her own race and tongue, Narcissa Whitman spent eleven long weary
years in the prime of her young womanhood, endeavoring to enlighten
the {272} minds and improve and elevate the morals of the savages,
with no hope or prospect of being rewarded in this life, except by
the consciousness of doing the utmost for her fellow mortals, and
that her work might be pleasing in the eyes of God. The sacrifice of
her own life was her only visible reward.
In 1839 a great sorrow fell upon the Whitman household. They had a
beautiful little girl, an only child who was suddenly snatched away
from her loving parents, without the slightest inkling of approaching
danger or cause for apprehension. The poignancy of Mrs. Whitman's
grief was intensified by the peculiar circumstances surrounding them
at the time.
She was in a wilderness inhabited by cruel and treacherous Indians,
cut off by nearly three thousand miles from the old home and her own
family, with only Dr. Whitman to lend a helping hand or console her
with a loving voice; and he was overwhelmed with pressing duties.
Her anguish was beyond description, but with true Christian courage
and exalted faith she bowed to the Divine will. What sublime
resignation!
I have a copy of the characteristic letter she wrote to her father on
that sorrowful occasion, from which I will now read:
Waiilatpu, Sept. 30, 1839.
MY DEAREST FATHER:
Doubtless before this you have heard through the Board of the
melancholy death of our most precious and only child, Alice Clarissa.
That we loved her most ardently is true, and we feel keenly the
severe pangs of a separation from her. Yet it is the Lord that hath
done it, and He has dealt with us as a tender parent deals with the
children He loves. O, how often have I felt and thought what a
privilege it would be, if I could see and unburden to my dear parents
the sorrows of my broken and bleeding heart since we have been bereft
of our dear, sweet babe.
Although deprived of this inestimable consolation yet, dearest
father, I desire to ask you to unite with us in praise and gratitude
to God who has so mercifully sustained me, and that when crushed to
the earth because His hand lay heavily upon me, His grace was
manifest to preserve and sustain my soul from murmuring or repining
at His dealings with us.
{273}
This unspeakable consolation is ours, that our daughter is at rest in
the bosom of Him who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto
me, for of such in the kingdom of heaven." Young as she was, we
could plainly see a manifest relish and enjoyment in singing and
worship; the last month of her life she commenced learning to read,
and improved rapidly.
I would describe to you if I could her bright, lively appearance on
Sabbath morning, the day of her death. She had always slept with me
until just a week before then, and that night she proposed, of her
own accord, to sleep on the mat on the floor. This gave me a very
strange and singular feeling, for I never before could persuade her
to lie away from me, not even in her father's arms * * *. It being
very warm, and because she preferred it, I let her sleep on the floor
all night--but did not sleep much myself. Ever after this I made a
bed for her by the side of mine, where I could lay my hand upon her.
Her appearance at worship in the family was deeply interesting. For
some time she had been in the habit of selecting the hymn she wished
us to sing, and that morning her choice was "Rock of Ages Cleft for
Me." Oh, if dear father and mother could have seen with what
animation she sang, and how her sweet voice soared above ours!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Dear father, when you sing this hymn think of me, for my thoughts do
not recur to it without almost overcoming me and bringing fresh to my
mind how she appeared when she last sang it.
NARCISSA.
That letter bears the impress of having been written by a superior
woman suffering the keenest pangs of a mother's grief, yet bearing it
with all the fortitude and resignation of the early Christian martyrs.
The tragedy happened on a Sabbath morning, while Dr. and Mrs. Whitman
were reading the scriptures. Alice Clarissa went to bring some water
from the river which flowed near-by the Mission House, as she had
done many times before. She went from the house with a cup in each
hand, bounding down to the river bank to fulfill her errand, and
returned no more.
How it happened is simply conjecture, as there was no witness when
the cold waters of the Walla Walla River fanned out the precious life
of this first white American {274} child born west of the Rocky
Mountains. The little mound that marked her grave not far from the
house was kept green and bedecked with flowers until the day of the
massacre and destruction of the Mission.
The missionaries--particularly Rev. Mr. Spalding and Dr.
Whitman--never worked in harmony after their arrival in the Indian
country. It is said that the bitterness of Mr. Spalding against Mrs.
Whitman continued from the time he was a suitor for her hand; and
that the rankling of it led at least to a lack of co-operation on his
part with his successful rival, the Doctor, in carrying on the
Mission work. I will read a letter of Mrs. Whitman to her father,
which throws a flood of light upon the subject:
Waiilatpu, Walla Walla River,
Oregon Territory, Oct. 10, 1810.
MY DEAR FATHER:
The missionaries' greatest trials are but little known to the
churches. I have never ventured to write about them for fear it
might hurt. The man who came with us ought never to have come. My
dear husband has suffered more in consequence of his wicked jealousy
and great pique towards me than can be known in this world. Not he
alone but the whole Mission suffers, which is most to be deplored.
It has nearly broken up the Mission.
The pretended settlement with father before we started was only an
excuse; and from all we have seen and heard, both during the journey
and since we have been here, the same bitter feeling exists. * * *.
I never did anything before I left home to injure him, and nothing
since; and my husband is cautious in speaking and thinking evil of
him or treating him unkindly; yet he does not, nor has he received
the same kindness from him since we have been missionaries together.
Every mind in the Mission that he has had access to he has tried to
prejudice against us, and did succeed for awhile, which was the cause
of our being voted to remove and form a new station. This was too
much for my husband's feelings to bear, and so many arrayed against
him for no good reason. He felt as if he must leave the Mission, and
no doubt would have done it had not the Lord removed from us our
beloved child. This affliction softened his feelings and made him
willing to submit to the will of the Lord, although we felt that we
were suffering wrongfully.
The death of our babe had a great effect upon all in the {275}
Mission; it softened their hearts towards us, even Mr. S's for a
season. * * * The Lord in His providence has brought things around in
such a way that all see and feel where the evil lies. Some of them
are writing to the Board; and it may require his removal or return to
effect it, not so much for his treatment towards us as some others
also.
* * *. I have long desired to have some few judicious friends know
our trials, so that they may understand better how to pray for us.
If this Mission fails, it will be because peace and harmony does not
dwell among its members. Our ardent desire and prayer is that it may
not fail. It is this state of things among us that discourage us.
When we look at the people and the providence of God, we are more and
more encouraged every year.
As ever, I remain, your affectionate daughter,
NARCISSA WHITMAN.
During the early days of the Mission the Whitmans devoted themselves
almost exclusively to the difficult task of inducing the Indians to
receive instruction in both spiritual and temporal matters. The
Doctor was rough and ready in his manner, outspoken in his opinions
and, particularly, vigorous in his actions; when the Indians did not
do exactly as he thought they should, he openly showed his
disapproval and scolded them.
This helps to explain why the Mission was not as successful as it
might have been; but Whitman was nevertheless a thoroughly sincere
and honest man, always prompted by high motives. Due somewhat to the
lack of harmony in the establishment there, the Board finally
concluded that Waiilatpu should be abandoned.
Very different indeed was the disposition of the lovable and
sweet-tempered woman, Narcissa Whitman, his helpmate in the work. By
kindly manner and tactful methods she endeared herself to those in
her special charge, and was eminently successful in the care and
management of children.
WHITMAN'S RIDE AND THE MASSACRE
Having learned that the Board had ordered the abandonment of two
stations, including the one at Waiilatpu, Whitman asked the
missionaries to convene at that place {276} for consideration of what
steps should be taken to have the order rescinded. Upon arrival of
some of them, he called the meeting without awaiting the arrival of
those coming from a greater distance, as he deemed the matter too
urgent to be postponed even a day. It was decided to have the Doctor
proceed immediately to the East to lay the whole matter before the
Board.
Accordingly Whitman, accompanied by A. L. Lovejoy, left Waiilatpu
October 3, 1842, on the long and afterward famous horseback ride over
the Rocky Mountains and through the vast prairie country during the
winter. He was the kind of man no dangers or difficulties could
deter; and although he underwent great privations, successfully
completed the trip.
His reception by the Board was by no means cordial; but in a forceful
way he showed the serious consequences that would follow the
abandonment of the Missions. Finally convinced by his logic, the
Board rescinded the order, which action was the object for which the
ride was undertaken. After that he visited his old home in New York
State.
Westbound during May of the following year, Whitman overtook the 1843
emigrants somewhere along the Platte River and traveled with them as
far as Fort Boise on the Snake River. Worried about affairs at
Waiilatpu after so long absence, he then went on ahead.
From that time on the affairs of the Mission were still more
unsatisfactory; and the Indians gradually became alarmed at the
number of immigrants arriving in the country, bringing the measles
and other diseases generally fatal to the natives. Whitman was very
successful in treating his own people, but the great majority of
affected Indians succumbed to the diseases contracted from the whites.
The more superstitious ones began to imagine that the Doctor was
using "bad medicine" to kill them off so that his white brothers
could have their lands, an idea which became an obsession with them.
It did not bear fruit for awhile; but as time went on and conditions
showed no {277} signs of change, the foolish natives determined to
destroy the station and kill the missionaries. The latter had been
forewarned more than once by friendly Indians to be on their guard,
as something desperate might happen; but they did not take it
seriously.
On Monday, November 29th, the first of the fatal blows fell. Whitman
was in the sitting room talking with Mrs. Osborne who lived in an
adjoining room. An Indian came to the door, knocked and asked to see
the Doctor about some medicine; he stepped into the outer room where
several were assembled, and talked with them about their sick. While
thus engaged one of them suddenly drew a tomahawk from beneath his
blanket and delivered a crushing blow upon Whitman's head.
Then pandemonium broke loose, and with frightful yells the savages
began the slaughter of the defenseless inmates. In only one instance
was any resistance offered; when attacked by an Indian with a knife,
the school-teacher grappled with his assailant and struggled for his
life until dispatched by another of the natives.
Mrs. Whitman was shot through the breast by a renegade half-breed,
Joe Lewis, and afterwards beaten over the head and face with clubs
until life was extinct. She was the only woman slain, the others
being made captive and confined in one of the Mission houses. The
reign of terror continued through Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday,
with several other murders of the white people. Two seriously ill
men were dragged out of their beds and clubbed in a most barbarous
manner until they expired.
It is surprising that, wrought up to such a high state of frenzy
against the Mission and its inmates, the Indians did not also
massacre the fifty or more women and children who fell into their
hands. Through the untiring efforts of Peter Skene Ogden, Chief
Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company, the latter were ransomed after a
few weeks' captivity.
The Whitman Massacre was one of the saddest and most revolting
episodes in the annals of missionary effort in North America. It
cast a shadow over the land, and {278} caused those who were active
in the movement for the regeneration of the red men to almost abandon
it in despair.
No doubt you think it strange that in telling you about the Oregon
Country, its exploration and early settlement, I should have devoted
so much time to the expeditions, labors and sufferings of the
missionaries. But it was owing primarily to the initiative from
those sources that the Pacific Northwest, with all of its wonderful
resources and possibilities, became known to the people of "the
States"; large numbers were thus encouraged to emigrate to it, aiding
materially in bringing all of that vast region under the flag and
within the dominion of our beloved country.
Otherwise the choicest portion of that territory would in all
probability have passed into the possession of a foreign power. Is
not that a good reason for occupying so much time in recounting their
efforts and exploits? I will now give briefly a few of the
outstanding incidents since the migration to the Oregon Country began
in the wake of the missionaries.
THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT
In the spring of 1843, a kind of Provisional Government for the
Oregon Country was organized at a meeting of settlers held at
Champoeg in the Willamette Valley. Previous attempts had been made
for that purpose, but owing to divergent views, they had ended in
failure.
Now, however, at a gathering in March, 1843, called ostensibly for
the purpose of taking steps to protect the settlement from predatory
animals and known as the "Wolf Organization," a resolution was
introduced and carried to appoint a committee of twelve to formulate
a plan. At the meeting held on May 2nd attended by both British and
American partisans, the vote was very close, the advocates of a
Provisional Government winning by a slight margin.
It was so close that there was difficulty in determining {279} which
side had the majority; so after one or two unsuccessful attempts to
decide by a _viva voce_ vote, an agreement was reached to have a
division and count--those in favor of the proposal going to the
right, while those opposed went to the left. Joseph L. Meek, a man
of splendid physique and the hero of many adventures in the Rockies,
clad in the garb of the mountaineers, with sparkling eyes, a voice of
command and the air of a Major General, stepped to a niche in history
as he strode to his position crying out, "Who's for a divide! All in
favor of the report and organization follow me."
The hunters and trappers who were present followed his lead, and so
carried the day for the proponents of the measure. More than half
the Americans present voted against it, because they (wrongfully)
believed it a scheme of the Mission party to secure control of the
organization. Were it not that quite a number of French-Canadians
favorable to self-government voted in the affirmative, it would have
lost.
On the following day, May 3rd, the Provisional Government was duly
organized--a date and event long to be remembered. That government
was ably and wisely carried on for a term of six years, until the
United States assumed jurisdiction in 1849.
Dr. John McLoughlin recognized it, as he never would have done were
it not worthy of respect. It demonstrated that the Oregon pioneers
were capable, resourceful and not mere imitators of other men. Their
deeds should be admired and their names venerated.
I might add that the entire white population of the Oregon Country at
that time was only a little more than two hundred. But the tide had
set in, and nearly five times that number were already assembled at
different points on the Missouri River preparing to start overland.
THE 1843 MIGRATION
This was in many respects the most remarkable and important migration
that ever left the Missouri River {280} for the far Northwest.
Although numerically far below those of the following years, it was
the first company regularly organized to go out to that territory
with the sole object of making permanent settlements, and growing up
with it.
The people composing it were not influenced to any considerable
extent by the evangelical movement, but mostly farmers, tradesmen and
mechanics determined to find and make the best of opportunities for
improving their material condition. It was the first migration to
succeed in taking wagons beyond Fort Hall to the banks of the
Columbia and down along the south side of that river to The Dalles,
thence by batteaux or rafts to Fort Vancouver and the Willamette
Valley, thus blazing a trail for future thousands to follow.
Among those emigrants were several men of unusual ability and
forceful character, who were subsequently very successful and
attracted wide attention. Peter H. Burnett--keen, alert and
ambitious, the possessor of an almost inexhaustible fund of
information and anecdote--became the first Governor of California,
1849-51.
Another one was J. W. Nesmith, witty and brilliant, later United
States Senator from Oregon. Jesse Applegate, one of the men who came
over the Oregon Trail in 1843, was a versatile writer, forceful
speaker and a leading worker in the ranks of every progressive
movement in the Pacific Northwest during his long and useful life
there.
These men had the hardihood to attempt a feat considered utterly
impracticable by those who had passed and repassed over that route on
horseback for many years. When asked for his opinion as to the
feasibility of taking the wagons to the Columbia, Richard Grant, the
Chief Factor of the Hudson's Bay Company at Fort Hall, made this
characteristic and undoubtedly honest reply, "I will not say that
Americans cannot do it, but for myself I cannot see how it would be
possible."
The news that a large company of home seekers had succeeded in
driving their teams and four-wheeled vehicles {281} all the way
through by that route caused widespread rejoicing throughout "the
States," and virtually settled the question as to which nation the
region should belong.
THE UNFORTUNATE SAGER FAMILY
Of the many tragic and pathetic incidents along the Trail during the
early migration to Oregon, none surpasses that of this most bereaved
and sorely afflicted family. Mr. Sager, a blacksmith, went in 1838
from Ohio to Missouri; in the fall of 1843 he moved to St. Joseph in
that State, and in the spring of 1844 joined the Gillman party bound
for the Oregon Country. He was accompanied by his wife and six
children, the eldest a boy of fourteen (a seventh was born on the
road), making five girls and two boys.
While crossing the Platte River one of his wagons in which Mrs. Sager
was riding, overturned and so seriously injured her that she never
entirely recovered from it. Near Fort Laramie the oldest girl fell
under the wheels of the wagon and was rendered helpless during the
remainder of the journey. At Green River, Mr. Sager died leaving an
invalid wife, a crippled daughter and six children, the youngest a
baby only a few weeks old.
In the party was an unmarried German doctor of a benevolent
disposition who, seeing the straits to which the family was reduced,
volunteered to drive and care for the oxen and assist the
unfortunates to their destination. Mrs. Shaw, a kind hearted woman
of the train, took the infant in charge. At Fort Bridger the greater
part of the property brought that far by the emigrants, among them
the Sagers, had to be abandoned, making their lot still harder, for
henceforth they must travel in a cart.
Notwithstanding all that could be done to alleviate the sufferings of
the ill and weak mother, she could no longer endure the hardships of
the journey; and gave up her spirit in the wild and forbidding region
of the Snake River. Delirious at the time, she called upon her dead
husband to take good care of their little ones.
{282}
Mr. Shaw went to the Whitman Mission to see if Dr. and Mrs. Whitman
could be prevailed upon to assume the care and custody of the
orphans. Though prompted by their natural inclinations to do so, the
Whitmans hesitated to assume the additional responsibility.
While in this uncertain frame of mind, the two-wheeled vehicle with
its cargo of six ragged and travel-stained children appeared upon the
scene. It was utterly impossible for those kind-hearted people to
resist that appeal. When the question of the infant came up, the
Doctor could not see how it could be managed; but Mrs. Whitman turned
to him and said, "I would like to have the baby most of all."
[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF THE SAGER ORPHANS AT WAIILATPU, THE WHITMAN
MISSION IN THE OREGON COUNTRY, FALL OF 1844: SEE OPPOSITE PAGE]
The arrival of the cart load of orphans at Waiilatpu presented a
sight worthy of the brush of some great artist to transfer it to
canvas, for such a combination of circumstances seldom occurs in real
life. All that then remained of their once complete outfit was in
the foreground; and the emaciated, nearly exhausted oxen dropped down
to rest as soon as they were unyoked. John, the oldest boy, was
seated in the front end of the cart, his ragged garments covered with
a heavy coating of grey dust from the sagebrush plains, while his
woe-begone countenance and tear-stained cheeks clearly indicated his
supreme anguish.
Francis, the younger boy, was leaning on one wheel of the cart, his
head resting on his arm and sobbing audibly. On the near side, the
three little girls were huddled together bareheaded and barefooted,
looking at the boys and then at the house, dreading whatever might
happen. Close to the oxen stood the German doctor with his whip in
hand and kindly eyes viewing the scene with suppressed emotion.
The baby member of the family was in the care and custody of Mrs.
Shaw, whose husband somewhat thoughtlessly asked Mrs. Whitman if she
had any children of her own. Stopping at the threshold, the good
woman pointed to the little grave on the side of a small mound easily
seen from that point, and replied, "The only child {283} I ever had
sleeps yonder." In the tone of her voice and the expression of her
face there was unspeakable sadness. Only a few years later John and
Francis were brutally murdered at the same Mission House by
infuriated Indians, and all the girls taken into captivity. That
family certainly was tried in the crucible; and never in my
experience have I found a parallel to it.
* * *
Up to the present time fully nine-tenths of the emigrants going to
the Oregon Country have settled in the Willamette Valley--a very
large and fertile valley, probably seventy or eighty miles long by
some ten or twelve in width. It is flanked on either side by ranges
of heavily timbered hills, and traversed by the large Willamette
River, which is fed by numerous streams issuing from the adjacent
mountains on its course northward to join the mighty Columbia. The
climate is remarkably mild and entirely free from extremes of
temperature; and its very fertile soil produces small grains such as
wheat, oats and barley, in great abundance. Vegetables of every kind
grown in the temperate zone do remarkably well, while fruits such as
apples, pears, plums and cherries are not only raised in great
quantities, but are generally superior to the same varieties in the
Atlantic States. Fish and game are also quite plentiful. Since the
discovery of gold in California, that region has been an excellent
market for everything raised at fancy prices; if this condition
continues, the Oregon farmers will soon be more prosperous than the
California gold miners.
There is also a vast region north of the Columbia, heavily timbered
but interspersed here and there with numerous fertile valleys, which
in recent years have been receiving many immigrants who claim to see
a great future ahead. Even in the eastern portion of the territory,
which is still occupied almost exclusively by Indians, shrewd men see
possibilities of large settlements springing up within the next few
years.
It is a wonderful country to which you are going, and you will
probably never have cause to regret the decision.
[1] As this narrative was told in the early 1850s, "half a century
ago" refers to the period shortly after 1800.--E.M.
[2] Companion of Capt. Meriwether Lewis on the Lewis & Clark
Expedition of 1804-6; 1st Lieut. U.S.A., Jan. 31, 1806 (resigned Feb.
27, 1807); appointed Brig.-Gen. of Militia by Thomas Jefferson, March
13, 1807; Governor of Missouri Territory 1813-21, and afterward,
including the time of the visit of these Indians, Superintendent of
Indian Affairs at St. Louis until his death in 1838. Brother of Gen.
George Rogers Clark.
{284}
THE WORK BEGUN AND CARRIED ON FOR TWO DECADES BY EZRA MEEKER TO BE
CONTINUED ON A LARGER SCALE BY THE OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION,
INC. OBJECTS: PLAN: MEMBERSHIPS:
More than twenty years have elapsed since the author started, January
29, 1906, on a return trip over the Oregon Trail, which he had
traversed with an ox-team when just past 21 years of age, accompanied
by a brave young wife and a babe, nearly fifty-four years before.
The first journey was in search of a home in the Oregon Country, of
which he has now been a resident for over seventy-three years; and
the second one to rescue from impending oblivion the memories of the
Pioneers by rediscovering the Trail they followed, and erecting
permanent monuments to honor their heroic achievements.
A third trip was made with the ox-team in 1910 to continue and
enlarge the effort; a fourth one with an automobile in 1915 to enlist
the co-operation of the motoring public in the great work, and
finally a fifth by aeroplane in October, 1924, when he looked down
from the air at a speed of 100 miles per hour upon the route
previously followed at an average of about two miles an hour by a
migration of at least three hundred thousand, of whom not less than
twenty thousand gave up their lives on the way. Although a total of
nearly two hundred monuments and markers have been {285} placed along
or nearby the old tracks, the plan as a whole is still incomplete;
and the desirability of carrying it forward beyond the limitations of
a single life, unquestionable.
On January 9, 1926, the OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION, INC. was
organized under the laws of the State of New York, for the following
specific purposes:
1. To search out, identify, suitably and permanently mark the line
of the Oregon Trail, in so far as possible at this time, with or
without visible marks of the old tracks.
2. To erect suitable monuments or memorials on or nearby the sites
of historical forts, trading posts or other important landmarks along
the Trail, such as Fort Kearney, Fort Laramie, Fort Hall, Fort
Bridger and others of distinct historical interest.
3. To restore the Whitman Mission in the County of Walla Walla,
State of Washington, as the same existed at the date of the Massacre,
November 29, 1847; to establish, or promote the establishment of, a
park or other memorial to appropriately commemorate the sacrifice of
Marcus and Narcissa Whitman, and the other victims of that historic
tragedy; also to identify other localities where massacres are known
to have taken place, and to suitably mark them.
4. To promote, encourage or portray in moving pictures, vividly
recording the historic scenes on the great emigration over the Oregon
Trail, with a reproduction of the characteristic scenery along the
route, for use in the schools of the Nation, teaching exact and
truthful history by such methods.
5. To collect and preserve written accounts, objects of interest and
other things pertaining to the history of the winning of the Pacific
Northwest; to deposit same with the historical societies, preferably
in the States where found, or to designate a Museum or {286} museums
to preserve such records, relics or objects of interest as may be
donated or otherwise acquired; and erect a suitable memorial to the
Pioneers, most appropriately in the City of Washington.
Membership consists of two classes--Annual and Life. Any citizen of
the United States, of adult age, shall be eligible for membership by
the payment, annually, of two dollars ($2); or for a Life Membership
by one payment of fifty dollars ($50). No assessment of members
shall be made; nor shall membership involve any financial obligations
beyond the stated fees or dues to the Corporation.
The considerable number of men and women who have already become
identified with the organization are devoting their time and money to
perpetuate the memory of the Pioneers, all but a few of whom have
gone to their reward, and to preserve the history of the great
overland migration which was the principal factor in advancing the
northwestern boundary of the United States to the Pacific Coast.
Work will be started in the field as soon as sufficient funds are
secured to enable it to be carried forward on the high standard
outlined. Success in accomplishing these objects depends upon public
confidence and support; and the reader of this volume is invited to
become a member.
OREGON TRAIL MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION, INC.
Ezra Meeker, Rev. David G. Wylie, D.D., LL.D.
President Secretary
18 Old Slip, New York City
{287}
WORKS BY EZRA MEEKER
LOVED BEFORE SEEN (1874), a Story of Pioneer Life.
WASHINGTON TERRITORY WEST OF THE CASCADE MOUNTAINS (1870), a
descriptive pamphlet, out of print and rare; as high as $100 has been
paid for single copies.
FARM AND HOME, an editorial series of 52 numbers, 1884-6; newspaper
publication only.
HOP CULTURE IN THE UNITED STATES (1883); rare and out of print.
PIONEER REMINISCENCES OF PUGET SOUND, AND THE TRAGEDY OF LESCHI
(1905); 550 pages in two volumes under one cover, silk cloth binding,
$15.00.
SHORT STORIES FOR CHILDREN, each with a moral.
THE LOST TRAIL (1911-12-15), a booklet of 32 pages, of which several
editions totaling a hundred thousand copies, have been issued.
THE OREGON TRAIL, VENTURES AND ADVENTURES, revised and republished
under title of THE BUSY LIFE OF EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS (1916); 400 pages,
$1.65, postpaid.
FIFTY YEARS OF PROGRESS IN WASHINGTON (1915); 400 pages, $5.00
postpaid.
KATE MULHALL, a Romance of the Oregon Trail (1926); this volume, $2
postpaid, with the usual discounts to the trade.
In active preparation (1926): A CENTURY OF BUSY LIFE--the biography,
varied experiences as pioneer, farmer, author and traveler, including
four years in Europe, and the "homespun" philosophy of Ezra Meeker,
1830-1930 (borrowing a few years from the future, through which the
author confidently expects to live, and thus justify the title chosen
for this work), amplifying and carrying forward THE BUSY LIFE OF
EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS in more definite historical retrospect.