Part 8 (1/2)
Life held many pleasures and much freedom from modern fret besides. As one of them observed, ”We were happy then, in our log cabin homes.”
Long after the incidents herein related occurred, one of the survivors of the White River ma.s.sacre wrote the following letter, which was published in a local paper:
”Burgh Hill, Ohio, Sept. 8.--I notice occasionally a pioneer sketch in the Post-Intelligencer relating some incident in the war of 1855-56. I have a vivid recollection of this, being a member of one of the families concerned therein. I remember distinctly the attack upon the fort at Seattle in January, 1856.
Though a child, the murdering of my mother and step-father by the Indians a few weeks before made such an impression upon my mind that I was terror-stricken at the thought of another ma.s.sacre, and the details are indelibly and most vividly fixed in my mind.
When I read of the marvelous growth of Seattle I can hardly realize that it is possible. I add my mite to the pioneer history of Seattle and vicinity.
”I was born in Harrison towns.h.i.+p, Grant county, Wisconsin, November 13, 1848. When I was five months old my father started for the gold diggings in California, but died shortly after reaching that state. In the early part of 1851 my mother married Harvey Jones. In the spring of 1854 we started for Was.h.i.+ngton territory, overland, reaching our destination on White river in the fall, having been six months and five days in making the trip. Our route lay through Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon and Was.h.i.+ngton territory. To speak in detail of all my recollections of this journey would make this article too lengthy.
”My step-father took up land on White river some twenty miles up the stream from Seattle. At that time there were only five or six families in the settlement, the nearest neighbor to us being about one-fourth mile distant. During the summer of 1855 I went some two and a half miles to school along a path through the dense woods in danger both from wild animals and Indians. Some of the settlers became alarmed at reports of hostile intentions by the Indians upon our settlement and left some two weeks before the outbreak. Among those who thought their fears groundless and remained was our family.
”On Sunday morning, October 28, 1855, while at breakfast we were surprised, and the house surrounded by a band of hostile Indians, who came running from the gra.s.s and bushes, whooping and discharging firearms. They seemed to rise from the ground so sudden and stealthy had been the attack. Our family consisted of my step-father (sick at the time), my mother, a half-sister, not quite four years old, a half-brother, not quite two, a hired man, Cooper by name, and myself.
”As soon as the Indians began firing into the house my mother covered us children over with a feather bed in the corner of one of the rooms farthest from the side attacked. In a short time it became evident we were entirely at the mercy of the savages, and after a hurried consultation between my mother and the hired man, he concluded to attempt to escape by flight; accordingly he came into the room where I was, and with an ax pried off the casing of the window and removed the lower sash, and then jumped out, but as was afterward learned he was shot when only a few rods from the house.
”My step-father was shot about the same time inside the house while pa.s.sing from his room to the one in which my mother was. In a short time there appeared to be a cessation of the firing, and upon looking out from under the bed over us I saw an Indian in the next room carrying something out. Soon we were taken out by them. I did not see my mother. We were placed in the charge of the leader of the band who directed them in their actions. They put bedclothes and other combustible articles under the house and set fire to them, and in this way burned the house. When it was well nigh burned to the ground, we were led away by one of the tribe, who in a short time allowed us to go where we pleased. I first went to the nearest neighbor's, but all was confusion, and no one was about. I then came back to the burned house.
”I found my mother a short distance from the house, or where it had stood, still alive. She warned me to leave speedily and soon.
I begged to stay with her but she urged me to flee. We made a dinner of some potatoes which had been baked by the fire. I carried my little half-brother and led my half-sister along the path to where I had gone to school during the summer, but there was no one there. I went still further on, but they, too, had gone. I came back to the school house, not knowing what to do. It was getting late. I was tired, as was my sister. My little brother was fretful, and cried to see his mother. I had carried him some three and a half or four miles altogether.
”While trying to quiet them I saw an Indian coming toward us. He had not seen us. I hid the children in the bushes and moved toward him to meet him. I soon had the relief to recognize in him an acquaintance I had often seen while attending school. We knew him as Dave. He told me to bring the children to his wigwam. His squaw was very kind, but my sister and brother were afraid of her. In the night he took us in a canoe down the river to Seattle. I was taken on board the man-of-war, Decatur, and they were placed in charge of some one in the fort. An uncle, John Smale, had crossed the plains when we did, but went to California. He was written to about the ma.s.sacre, and reached us in June, 1856. We went to San Francisco and then to the Isthmus, and from there we went to New York city. From there we were taken to Wisconsin, where my sister and brother remained. I was brought back to Ohio in September, 1856. They both died in October, 1864, of diphtheria, in Wisconsin.”
”JOHN I. KING, M. D.”
CHAPTER V.
THE MURDER OF MCCORMICK.
The sh.o.r.es of Lake Union, in Seattle, now surrounded by electric and steam railways, sawmills and manufactories, dwellings and public buildings, were clothed with a magnificent, dense, primeval forest, when the adventurous pioneers first looked upon its mirror-like surface. The shadowy depths of the solemn woods held many a dark and tragic secret; contests between enemies in both brute and human forms were doubtless not infrequently hidden there.
Many men came to the far northwest unheralded and unknown to the few already established, and wandering about without guides, unacquainted with the dangers peculiar to the region, were incautious and met a mysterious fate.
For a long time the ”Pioneer and Democrat,” of Olympia, Was.h.i.+ngton, one of the earliest newspapers of the northwest, published an advertis.e.m.e.nt in its columns inquiring for James Montgomery McCormick, sent to it from Pennsylvania. It is thought to have been one and the same person with the subject of this sketch. Even if it were not, the name will do as well as any other.
One brilliant summer day in July of 1853, a medium sized man, past middle age, was pus.h.i.+ng his way through the black raspberry jungle on the east side of Lake Union, gathering handfuls of the luscious fruit that hung in rich purple cl.u.s.ters above his head. A cool bubbling spring, that came from far up the divide toward Lake Was.h.i.+ngton, tempted him and stooping down he drank of the refres.h.i.+ng stream where it filled a little pool in the shadow of a mossy log. Glancing about him, he marked with a keen delight the loveliness of the vegetation, the plumy ferns, velvet mosses and drooping cedars; how grateful to him must have been the cool north breeze wandering through the forest! No doubt he thought it a pleasant place to rest in before returning to the far away settlement. Upon the mossy log he sat contentedly, marveling at the stillness of the mighty forest.
The thought had scarcely formed itself when he was startled by the dipping of paddles, wild laughter and vociferous imitations of animals and birds. A canoe grated on the beach and after a brief expectant interval, tramping feet along the trail betokened an arrival and a group of young Indians came in sight, one of whom carried a Hudson Bay musket.
”Kla-how-ya” (How do you do), said the leader, a flathead, with s.h.i.+ning skin recently oiled, sinister black brows, and thick black hair cut square and even at the neck.
At first they whistled and muttered, affecting little interest in his appearance, yet all the while were keenly studying him.
The white man had with him a rifle, revolver and camp ax. The young savages examined the gun, lifting it up and sighting at a knot-hole in a distant tree; then the ax, the sharp edge of which they fingered, and the revolver, to their minds yet more fascinating.
They were slightly disdainful as though not caring to own such articles, thereby allaying any fears he may have had as to their intentions. Being able to converse but little with the natives, the stranger good-naturedly permitted them to examine his weapons and even his clothing came under their scrutiny. His garments were new, and well adapted to frontier life.
When he supposed their curiosity satisfied, he rose to go, when one of the Indians asked him, ”Halo chicamum?” (Have you any money?) he incautiously slapped his hip pocket and answered ”Hiyu chicamum” (plenty of money), perhaps imagining they did not know its use or value, then started on the trail.