The immigration into Oregon of the year 1843, was the first since Newell
and Meek, who had brought wagons through to the Columbia River; and in
all numbered nearly nine hundred men, women, and children. These
immigrants were mostly from Missouri and other border States. They had
been assisted on their long and perilous journey by Dr. Whitman, whose
knowledge of the route, and the requirements of the undertaking, made
him an invaluable counselor, as he was an untiring friend of the
immigrants.
At the Dalles of the Columbia the wagons were abandoned; it being too
late in the season, and the wants of the immigrants too pressing, to
admit of an effort being made to cut out a wagon road through the heavy
timber of the Cascade mountains. Already a trail had been made over them
and around the base of Mount Hood, by which cattle could be driven from
the Dalles to the settlements on the Wallamet; and by this route the
cattle belonging to the train, amounting to thirteen hundred, were
passed over into the valley.
But for the people, especially the women and children, active and
efficient help was demanded. There was something truly touching and
pitiable in the appearance of these hundreds of worn-out, ragged,
sun-burnt, dusty, emaciated, yet indomitable pioneers, who, after a
journey of nearly two thousand miles, and of several months duration,
over fertile plains, barren deserts, and rugged mountains, stood at
last beside the grand and beautiful river of their hopes, exhausted by
the toils of their pilgrimage, dejected and yet rejoicing.
[Illustration: _WRECKED IN THE RAPIDS._]
Much they would have liked to rest, even here; but their poverty
admitted of no delay. The friends to whom they were going, and from whom
they must exact and receive a temporary hospitality, were still
separated from them a weary and dangerous way. They delayed as little as
possible, yet the fall rains came upon them, and snow fell in the
mountains, so as seriously to impede the labor of driving the cattle,
and hunger and sickness began to affright them.
In this unhappy situation they might have remained a long time, had
there been no better dependence than the American settlers already in
the valley, with the Methodist Mission at their head; for from them it
does not appear that aid came, nor that any provision had been made by
them to assist the expected immigrants. As usual in these crises, it was
the Hudson's Bay Company who came to the rescue, and, by the offer of
boats, made it possible for those families to reach the Wallamet. Not
only were the Hudson's Bay Company's boats all required, but canoes and
rafts were called into requisition to transport passengers and goods. No
one, never having made the voyage of the Columbia from above the Dalles
to Vancouver, could have an adequate idea of the perils of the passage,
as it was performed in those days, by small boats and the flat-bottomed
"Mackinaw" boats of the Hudson's Bay Company. The Canadian "voyageurs,"
who handled a boat as a good rider governs a horse, were not always able
to make the passage without accident: how, then, could the clumsy
landsmen, who were more used to the feel of a plow handle than an oar,
be expected to do so? Numerous have been the victims suddenly clutched
from life by the grasp of the whirlpools, or dashed to death among the
fearful rapids of the beautiful, but wild and pitiless, Columbia.
The immigration of 1843 did not escape without loss and bereavement.
Three brothers from Missouri, by the name of Applegate, with their
families, were descending the river together, when, by the striking of a
boat on a rock in the rapids, a number of passengers, mostly children of
these gentlemen, were precipitated into the frightful current. The
brothers each had a son in this boat, one of whom was lost, another
injured for life, and the third escaped as by a miracle. This last boy
was only ten years of age, yet such was the presence of mind and courage
displayed in saving his own and a companion's life, that the miracle of
his escape might be said to be his own. Being a good swimmer, he kept
himself valiantly above the surface, while being tossed about for nearly
two miles. Succeeding at last in grasping a feather bed which was
floating near him, he might have passed the remaining rapids without
serious danger, had he not been seized, as it were, by the feet, and
drawn down, down, into a seething, turning, roaring abyss of water,
where he was held, whirling about, and dancing up and down, striking now
and then upon the rocks, until death seemed not only imminent but
certain. After enduring this violent whirling and dashing for what
seemed a hopelessly long period of time, he was suddenly vomited forth
by the whirlpool once more upon the surface of the rapids, and,
notwithstanding the bruises he had received, was able, by great
exertion, to throw himself near, and seize upon a ledge of rocks. To
this he clung with desperation, until, by dint of much effort, he
finally drew himself out of the water, and stretched himself on the
narrow shelf, where, for a moment, he swooned away. But on opening his
eyes, he beheld, struggling in the foaming flood, a young man who had
been a passenger in the wrecked boat with himself, and who, though
older, was not so good a swimmer. Calling to him with all his might, to
make his voice heard above the roar of the rapids, he at last gained his
attention, and encouraged him to try to reach the ledge of rocks, where
he would assist him to climb up; and the almost impossible feat was
really accomplished by their united efforts. This done, young Applegate
sank again into momentary unconsciousness, while poor exhausted Nature
recruited her forces.
But, although they were saved from immediate destruction, death still
stared them in the face. That side of the river on which they had found
lodgment, was bounded by precipitous mountains, coming directly down to
the water. They could neither ascend nor skirt along them, for foot-hold
there was none. On the other side was level ground, but to reach it they
must pass through the rapids--an alternative that looked like an
assurance of destruction.
In this extremity, it was the boy who resolved to risk his life to save
it. Seeing that a broken ledge of rock extended nearly across the river
from a point within his reach, but only coming to the surface here and
there, and of course very slippery, he nevertheless determined to
attempt to cross on foot, amidst the roaring rapids. Starting alone to
make the experiment, he actually made the crossing in safety, amid the
thundering roar and dizzying rush of waters--not only made it once, but
returned to assure his companion of its practicability. The young man,
however, had not the courage to undertake it, until he had repeatedly
been urged to do so, and at last only by being pursuaded to go before,
while his younger comrade followed after, not to lose sight of him,
(for it was impossible to turn around,) and directed him where to place
his steps. In this manner that which appears incredible was
accomplished, and the two arrived in safety on the opposite side, where
they were ultimately discovered by their distressed relatives, who had
believed them to be lost. Such was the battle which young Applegate had
with the rocks, that the flesh was torn from the palms of his hands, and
his whole body bruised and lacerated.
So it was with sorrow, after all, that the immigrants arrived in the
valley. Nor were their trials over when they had arrived. The worst
feature about this long and exhausting journey was, that it could not be
accomplished so as to allow time for recruiting the strength of the
travelers, and providing them with shelter before the rainy season set
in. Either the new arrivals must camp out in the weather until a log
house was thrown up, or they must, if they were invited, crowd into the
small cabins of the settlers until there was scarce standing room, and
thus live for months in an atmosphere which would have bred pestilence
in any other less healthful climate.
Not only was the question of domiciles a trying one, but that of food
still more so. Some, who had families of boys to help in the rough labor
of building, soon became settled in houses of their own, more or less
comfortable; nor was anything very commodious required for the
frontiers-men from Missouri; but in the matter of something to eat, the
more boys there were in the family, the more hopeless the situation.
They had scarcely managed to bring with them provisions for their
summer's journey--it was not possible to bring more. In the colony was
food, but they had no money--few of them had much, at least; they had
not goods to exchange; labor was not in demand: in short, the first
winter in Oregon was, to nearly all the new colonists, a time of trial,
if not of actual suffering. Many families now occupying positions of
eminence on the Pacific coast, knew what it was, in those early days, to
feel the pangs of hunger, and to want for a sufficient covering for
their nakedness.
Two anecdotes of this kind come to the writer's memory, as related by
the parties themselves: the Indians, who are everywhere a begging race,
were in the habit of visiting the houses of the settlers and demanding
food. On one occasion, one of them came to the house of a now prominent
citizen of Oregon, as usual petitioning for something to eat. The lady
of the house, and mother of several young children, replied that she had
nothing to give. Not liking to believe her, the Indian persisted in his
demand, when the lady pointed to her little children and said, "Go away;
I have nothing--not even for those." The savage turned on his heel and
strode quickly away, as the lady thought, offended. In a short time he
reappeared with a sack of dried venison, which he laid at her feet.
"Take that," he said, "and give the _tenas tillicum_ (little children)
something to eat." From that day, as long as he lived, that humane
savage was a "friend of the family."
The other anecdote concerns a gentleman who was chief justice of Oregon
under the provisional government, afterwards governor of California, and
at present a banker in San Francisco. He lived, at the time spoken of on
the Tualatin Plains, and was a neighbor of Joe Meek. Not having a house
to go into at first, he was permitted to settle his family in the
district school-house, with the understanding that on certain days of
the month he was to allow religious services to be held in the building.
In this he assented. Meeting day came, and the family put on their best
apparel to make themselves tidy in the eyes of their neighbors. Only one
difficulty was hard to get over: Mr. ---- had only one shoe, the other
foot was bare. But he considered the matter for some time, and then
resolved that he might take a sheltered position behind the teacher's
desk, where his deficiency would be hidden, and when the house filled
up, as it would do very rapidly, he could not be expected to stir for
want of space. However, that happened to the ambitious young lawyer
which often does happen to the "best laid schemes of mice and men"--his
went "all aglee." In the midst of the services, the speaker needed a cup
of water, and requested Mr. ---- to furnish it. There was no refusing so
reasonable a request. Out before all the congregation, walked the
abashed and blushing pioneer, with his ill-matched feet exposed to view.
This mortifying exposure was not without an agreeable result; for next
day he received a present of a pair of moccasins, and was enabled
thereafter to appear with feet that bore a brotherly resemblance to each
other.
About this time, the same gentleman, who was, as has been said, a
neighbor of Meek's, was going to Wallamet Falls with a wagon, and Meek
was going along. "Take something to eat," said he to Meek, "for I have
nothing;" and Meek promised that he would.
Accordingly when it came time to camp for the night, Meek was requested
to produce his lunch basket. Going to the wagon, Meek unfolded an
immense pumpkin, and brought it to the fire.
"What!" exclaimed Mr. ----, "is that all we have for supper?"
"Roast pumpkin is not so bad," said Meek, laughing back at him; "I've
had worse fare in the mountains. It's buffalo tongue compared to ants or
moccasin soles."
And so with much merriment they proceeded to cut up their pumpkin and
roast it, finding it as Meek had said--"not so bad" when there was no
better.
These anecdotes illustrate what a volume could only describe--the perils
and privations endured by the colonists in Oregon. If we add that there
were only two flouring mills in the Wallamet Valley, and these two not
convenient for most of the settlers, both belonging to the mission, and
that to get a few bushels of wheat ground involved the taking of a
journey of from four to six days, for many, and that, too, over
half-broken roads, destitute of bridges, it will be seen how difficult
it was to obtain the commonest comforts of life. As for such luxuries as
groceries and clothing, they had to wait for better times. Lucky was the
man who, "by hook or by crook," got hold of an order on the Hudson's Bay
Company, the Methodist Mission, or the Milling Company at the Falls.
Were he thus fortunate, he had much ado to decide how to make it go
farthest, and obtain the most. Not far would it go, at the best, for
fifty per cent. profit on all sales was what was demanded and obtained.
Perhaps the holder of a ten dollar draft made out his list of
necessaries, and presented himself at the store, expecting to get them.
He wanted some unbleached cotton, to be dyed to make dresses for the
children; he would buy a pair of calf-skin shoes if he could afford
them; and--yes--he would indulge in the luxury of a little--a very
little--sugar, just for that once!
Arrived at the store after a long, jolting journey, in the farm wagon
which had crossed the continent the year before, he makes his inquiries:
"Cotton goods?" "No; just out." "Shoes?" "Got one pair, rather
small--wouldn't fit you." "What have you got in the way of goods?" "Got
a lot of silk handkerchiefs and twelve dozen straw hats." "Any pins?"
"No; a few knitting needles." "Any yarn?" "Yes, there's a pretty good
lot of yarn, but don't you want some sugar? the last ship that was in
left a quantity of sugar." So the holder of the draft exchanges it for
some yarn and a few nails, and takes the balance in sugar; fairly
compelled to be luxurious in one article, for the reason that others
were not to be had till some other ship came in.
No mails reached the colony, and no letters left it, except such as were
carried by private hand, or were sent once a year in the Hudson's Bay
Company's express to Canada, and thence to the States. Newspapers
arrived in the same manner, or by vessel from the Sandwich Islands.
Notwithstanding all these drawbacks, education was encouraged even from
the very beginning; a library was started, and literary societies
formed, and this all the more, perhaps, that the colony was so isolated
and dependent on itself for intellectual pleasures.
The spring of 1844 saw the colony in a state of some excitement on
account of an attempt to introduce the manufacture of ardent spirits.
This dangerous article had always been carefully excluded from the
country, first by the Hudson's Bay Company, and secondly by the
Methodist Mission; and since the time when a Mr. Young had been induced
to relinquish its manufacture, no serious effort had been made to
introduce it.
It does not appear from the Oregon archives, that any law against its
manufacture existed at that time: it had probably been overlooked in the
proceedings of the legislative committee of the previous summer; neither
was there yet any executive head to the Provisional Government, the
election not having taken place. In this dilemma the people found
themselves in the month of February, when one James Conner had been
discovered to be erecting a distillery at the Falls of the Wallamet.
It happened, however, that an occasion for the exercise of executive
power had occurred before the election of the executive committee, and
now what was to be done? It was a case too, which required absolute
power, for there was no law on the subject of distilleries. After some
deliberation it was decided to allow the Indian agent temporary power,
and several letters were addressed to him, informing him of the calamity
which threatened the community at the Falls. "Now, we believe that if
there is anything which calls your attention in your official capacity,
or anything in which you would be most cordially supported by the good
sense and prompt action of the better part of community, it is the
present case. We do not wish to dictate, but we hope for the best,
begging pardon for intrusions." So read the closing paragraph of one of
the letters.
Perhaps this humble petition touched the Doctor's heart; perhaps he saw
in the circumstance a possible means of acquiring influence; at all
events he hastened to the Falls, a distance of fifty miles, and entered
at once upon the discharge of the executive duties thus thrust upon him
in the hour of danger. Calling upon Meek, who had entered upon his
duties as sheriff the previous summer, he gave him his orders. Writ in
hand, Meek proceeded to the distillery, frightened the poor sinner into
quiet submission with a display of his mountain manners; made a bugle of
the worm, and blew it, to announce to the Doctor his complete success;
after which he tumbled the distillery apparatus into the river, and
retired. Connor was put under three hundred dollar bonds, and so the
case ended.
But there were other occasions on which the Doctor's authority was put
in requisition. It happened that a vessel from Australia had been in the
river, and left one Madam Cooper, who was said to have brought with her
a barrel of whisky. Her cabin stood on the east bank of the Wallamet,
opposite the present city of Portland. Not thinking it necessary to send
the sheriff to deal with a woman, the Doctor went in person, accompanied
by a couple of men. Entering the cabin the Doctor remarked blandly, "you
have a barrel of whisky, I believe."
Not knowing but her visitor's intention was to purchase, and not having
previously resided in a strictly temperance community, Madam Cooper
replied frankly that she had, and pointed to the barrel in question.
The Doctor then stepped forward, and placing his foot on it, said: "In
the name of the United States, I levy execution on it!"
At this unexpected declaration, the English woman stared wildly one
moment, then recovering herself quickly, seized the poker from the
chimney corner, and raising it over the Doctor's head, exclaimed--"In
the name of Great Britain, Ireland, and Scotland, I levy execution on
you!"
But when the stick descended, the Doctor was not there. He had backed
out at the cabin door; nor did he afterwards attempt to interfere with a
subject of the crown of Great Britain.
On the following day, however, the story having got afloat at the Falls,
Meek and a young man highly esteemed at the mission, by the name of Le
Breton, set out to pay their respects to Madam Cooper. Upon entering the
cabin, the two callers cast their eyes about until they rested on the
whisky barrel.
"Have _you_ come to levy on my whisky?" inquired the now suspicious
Madam.
"Yes," said Meek, "I have come to levy on it; but as I am not quite so
high in authority as Doctor White, I don't intend to levy on the whole
of it at once. I think about a quart of it will do me."
Comprehending by the twinkle in Meek's eye that she had now a customer
more to her mind, Madam Cooper made haste to set before her visitors a
bottle and tin cup, upon which invitation they proceeded to levy
frequently upon the contents of the bottle; and we fear that the length
of time spent there, and the amount of whisky drank must have strongly
reminded Meek of past rendezvous times in the mountains; nor can we
doubt that he entertained Le Breton and Madam Cooper with many
reminiscences of those times. However that may be, this was not the last
visit of Meek to Madam Cooper's, nor his last levy on her whisky.
Shortly after his election as sheriff he had been called upon to serve a
writ upon a desperate character, for an attempt to kill. Many persons,
however, fearing the result of trying to enforce the law upon
desperadoes, in the then defenceless condition of the colony, advised
him to wait for the immigration to come in before attempting the arrest.
But Meek preferred to do his duty then, and went with the writ to arrest
him. The man resisted, making an attack on the sheriff with a
carpenter's axe; but Meek coolly presented a pistol, assuring the
culprit of the uselessness of such demonstrations, and soon brought him
to terms of compliance. Such coolness, united with a fine physique, and
a mountain-man's reputation for reckless courage, made it very desirable
that Meek should continue to hold the office of sheriff during that
stage of the colony's development.