USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, 1900-1901 > Part 10
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65
111
-
הבוח
.562
H
OLD MCMINNVILLE COLLEGE.
the larger part of the expense. Newby gave six acres of land. The building erected was large and commodious for those times. Adams, who was a teacher by profession, was urged to take charge of the school, and taught it for a year and a half. But there had not been any organization or any charter asked for, and Adams, who found it hard and un- profitable work to keep up the school alone, wished to resign, and proposed to the men interested to place it in the hands of the Baptists, who were about
Holman, Alexius N. Miller, Richard Miller and Willis Gaines, trustees.
Such was the beginning of McMinn- ville College. Its subsequent history and development have been contempor- ancous with those of its own city and the great country around it. Rev. Geo. C. Chandler, D.D., was the college's first president. He represented a very high type of scholarship and ability as an educator-a most rare man for that early day, and an illustration of the oit- repeated truth that the pioneers of the
5
... .
MCMINNVILLE COLLEGE.
76
OREGON NATIVE SON.
West were. in very many cases, of the finest stock of the older East. President Chandler gave the college character and standing as an institution of good learn- ing from the very first. Associated with him in the first sessions was Mrs. N. Morse, in charge of the preparatory- de- partment. Among those who taught un- der President Chandler, or in the years immediately following him, were C. H. Mattoon, John Hall and Professor Robb, all of whom are well remembered by those who were students of those early days. Dr. Chandler was president for some three or four years. John W. Johnson assumed control of the college in 1864 and continued at the head for four years. The work saw large ad- vance under his administration. He subsequently became president of the University of Oregon.
Scores of those who have been proni- inent in public and private life in Oregon and the Northwest received their educa- tional preparation in McMinnville Col- lege in its early days, and the number graduating therefrom in more recent years, who have taken foremost place in avocations of the higher order, are legion. The old building, a cut of which accompanies this article, is held in very tender recollection by many now in mid- dle and later life. as the scene of associ- ations, pranks and wholesome endeavor which filled the years of study with lively interest.
Those who carried the load of the col- lege's financial and business interests in the early part of its history, and who made possible the larger things of the present, were many and well known. W. T. Newby gave the original site and was always a strong supporter of the college. Hon. Henry Warren, Albert Kinney, Dr. R. C. Hill, Rev. A. J. Hunsaker, Hon. W. C. Johnson, Hon. Henry Fail- ing, and many others, were vitally asso- ciated with the college's progress as members of its board of trustees and as shouldering its finances in the years when its resources were most limited.
Early in the seventies Mark Bailey, Ph.D., became president. and remained
until 1876, when he became professor of mathematics in the University of Ore- gon. Following him for two years Hon. J. E. Magers was at the head of the school. Then, in 1878, Rev. G. J. Bur- chett became president. Under this ad- ministration the fund was secured for the erection of the new and beautiful build- ing. Rev. E. C. Anderson, D.D., be- came president in 1881, remaining for six years. Under him the new building. a cut of which appears herewith, cost- ing $25,000, was built and occupied in the fall of 1883. It stands on the fine Campus, twenty acres of which was do- nated by Samuel and Mahala Cozine, a part of their donation claim, lying south of the city of McMinnville. This gift was supplemented by Mrs. P. W. Chand- ler's donation of five acres and the pur- chase of over five more, making a total campus of more than thirty acres. The securing of this campus and the ocu- pancy of this building mark an epoch in the history of the college, and bring its history down to recent times.
The history of McMinnville College is similar to that of all similar institu- tions growing up in new countries. Great obstacles were to be overcome. Many discouragements were to be met. The college's growth was necessarily slow. Today the institution has materi- al resources in lands, buildings and equipments worth $50,000, and endow- ment funds of $40,000 more yielding in- come. Rev. T. G. Brownson, D.D., fol- lowed Dr. Anderson as president for nine years, his administration being marked by large advancement. The present incumbent, the writer of this ar- ticle, has been president now four years and has seen encouraging progress made. With a faculty of seven instruc- tors, good buildings and equipments, a growing endowment, an increasing at- tendance of students from year to year, facilities for thorough work and an es- tablished reputation for doing the same, the college has taken its place with the more substantial institutions of the state and the great Northwest. AA good future seems assured for MeMinnville College.
.
TALES OF THE MINES.
-
(Copyright 1900, by G. A. Waggoner. ) .
By the middle of January snow had fallen to the depth of two and a half feet, and a very heavy sleet had formed on top, rendering it impossible for stock to get anything to eat on the ranges. Cattle died by thousands and not more than one per cent of the vast herds north of The Dalles were alive when spring 'came. The thermometer went down until the mercury congealed, and many persons were frozen to death. Johnson Mulky, of this county, laid down to his last rest in the snow between Willow creek and the John Day river. He was trying to make his way to The Dalles on foot and carrying 60 pounds of gold dust. I am told that not one ounce of that dust was recovered by his relatives. Some one robbed his wife and children of the wealth which the poor old man had lost his life trying to carry to them. I hope the Lord will cross-examine that thief and robber in the judgment day. An old man was frozen to death near Dry Creek. He had walked to town through the snow, and on his return lay down within three hundred yards of his own house and was found dead the next morning by his two little girls. He had gone to town on a loving errand for them, to buy them shoes, and the two pairs were found hanging upon his froz- en arm. Cattle and horses in good con- dition froze to death and even foxes and coyotes were found dying of cold. I came near losing my feet in the snow, and came to the conclusion that a cold sheol would be quite as unpleasant as a hot one. Ministers refrained from speak- ing of that place during the cold spell. well knowing that any place described as being warm would present no terrors to freezing transgressors.
About this time we had a marriage in high life. Dave Englishi, of this coun-
ty, a noted desperado, forgetting his young wife, and not waiting for a di- vorce, married a woman of ill-repute. The ceremony took place in a dance house and was considered one of the so- cial events of the winter. The weather was too cold to think of executing the laws, and he was allowed to go unpun- ished for the crime of bigamy, but was hanged at Lewiston a year after for highway robbery.
As but little has been said in these sketches about the ladies, I may men- tion a young actress about whom . the boys raved that cold winter. Susie Rob- inson, the star of the Robinson troupe, which played in Corvallis during the winter of 1860, was a beautiful girl who sang divinely and set the masculine hearts palpitating wherever she went. She was at the height of her fame and in all her glory at Walla Walla, and more admired and petted than any queen. Her form and voice were prais- ed by all, and her virtues extoled, while her father gathered at the door of his theater willing tributes enough, each day, to have made her a golden crown. Was ever a queen so fortunately situ- ated? We know now that she was not a great actress or singer, and my roving eyes have since discovered that she was not a remarkable beauty, but at that time many Oregon boys had never seen the gay tinsels of a stage costume; never been thrilled by the rich tones of a cul- tivated voice, or seen a beautiful woman poised on one toe, and she took the frontier heart by storm. Nor were the Oregon boys her only admirers. Men of mature years left their families at home, and came to see what the boys were all talking about. A German sur- geon of high repute lost his reason en- tirely while contemplating her glories.
77
78
OREGON NATIVE SON.
And I verily believe she could have mar- ried any man in the upper country, not excepting the mayor of the city of Wal- la Walla.
Two companies of troops were sta- tioned at the fort, and the soldiers were as much infatuated with Susie as were the citizens. They came to the theater by companies. and seated themselves in platoons before the stage. Then came trouble. The citizens would not allow the favorites to be monopolized by sol- diers, and after several slight encoun- ters drove them from the theater, telling them not to come again or civil war would certainly follow. They had en- listed for three years of the war. The stirring news from the Southern states was overcoming the influences of the fort. and they felt combative. More- over, they wanted to see Susie, and probably thought if Uncle Abe was go- ing to march their brethren down to take Richmond, they ought to be able to take Robinson's theater. They came fuly armed and determined to insist up- on their rights. We all knew a fight was coming. and divided our sympa- thies according to our political opinions. Susie came upon the stage, and the sight of her for a time quelled even the turbulent feelings of the two contend- ing factions. A hearty round of ap- plause greeted her. and she acknowl- edged it as only a favorite can, and com- menced to sing. One of the soldiers who had been drinking, continued to cheer and the marshal attempted to take him from the room, but he resisted and felled the officer with a blow of a dra- goon pistol. Instantly the house was in an uproar. Susie screamed and ran from the stage. Navy Colt's pistols leaped from their scabbards and bel- lowed like the roar of artillery. Chero- kee Bob sprang upon his seat and fired straight and fast. dropping a soldier at every shot. He stood above most of the crowd, and was a fair mark for all who wanted a shot at a desperado and murderer. The soldiers were intoxicat- ed. and missed their mark. but Bob received several shots from one who did not often miss, the last one knocking
him from the seat where he stood, and yet he was unhurt. It was known after- ward that he wore mail beneath his clothing, and this had saved his worth- less life. The firing continued from all parts of the room, and a terrible stam- pede commenced, every one but those engaged trying to get out of the house. More than fifty shots were fired, and the room was filled with smoke out of which pistols blazed, fired at supposed ene- mies, though several times friends fired upon each other. Three men were fiilled and many wounded, besides a great many who were nearly scared to death. I helped to carry a man to the surgeon who said he had a death shot, and was really falling when we caught him. He had the slightest flesh wound, though the ball had struck a purse of coin in his pocket, which turned its course and probably saved his life.
No one was arrested, and the theater went on as usual, but Susie never seem- ed quite the same afterwards. A slight commotion in the audience would at- tract her attention in the midst of her best song; and in her best play she al- ways looked as though she was just a little afraid some one was going to shoot. Twenty-four years have passed and Susie, if among the living, must show the hand of time.
"The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye.
Shone beauty and pleasure - her triumphs are by."
Yet she no doubt remembers and tells her children, if she has been so blessed as to be a mother. that she once held sway over a country large enough for an empire, and ruled her subjects with a royal will. But sometimes thoughts of sadness will steal upon her as she re- members that in trying to please she once raised a storm she could not quell. and that men have fought and died con- tending for the right to hear her sing.
I spent the latter part of the winter with Thomas on the Touchet, about 20 miles from town. He felt as much dis- tressed at the loss of my oxen as I did myself, and together we discussed fu-
79
TALES OF THE MINES.
ture operations and laid plans for the next summer's campaign. Thomas was in favor of buying another team, which he would drive, but I declared I would never invest in anything so slow as an ox again. This was a splendid resolu- tion, and had I but adhered to it I would have been spared much vexation of spir- it. and have avoided the loss of several thousand dollars. But we do not like to be beaten, even by Providence, and I chafed sorely over that winter's de- feat. Several years after I purchased another team of oxen and the Indians shot them full of arrows on the Malheur river. Then I bought another, and, re- membering past experience, sold it at a profit, and took a note for $1,000 in pay- ment. The man ran away and never paid me a dollar. Still I did not take warning. I bought my fourth and last ox team.
Determined not to be outdone by cold weather. Indians or rascals, I took all possible precautions, and drove forth to war and destiny. Not a man on earth could have bought those oxen without paying cash down; and I guard- ed them so closely that the Indians could not have stolen them without tak- ing my life. I fully believed that I was equal to the emergency of taking care of my property, but it was not to be. On a beautiful day, near the Farewell bend of Snake river, I was driving along, counting the profits on my load, and believing the goal already won, when suddenly a cloud appeared veiling the sun and obscuring the designs of the outraged heavens. A moment later the cloud had parted. a bolt of fire shot forth, and three of my oxen lay dead in the road-my best ones too, killed in different parts of the team, by forked lightning; and, as the thunder pealed and then went chuckling off towards the north, I realized that I was in the minority, and fought no more.
.
This is a digression in which I have passed over several years of which I wish to speak, and I will turn to Thom- as and take up the thread of my narra- tive. We separated again, and before
the snow was gone from the hills, I was on my way to the mines, carrying my blankets on my back, while he remained at Walla Walla. I concluded to try my luck at Oro Fino for a couple of months until the snow was sufficiently hardened to allow me to reach my claims at Elk City. We found Lewiston had grown during the hard winter, and many tents had given place to more substantial buildings. The big saloon was changed to wood, with walls thick enough to stop a pistol ball, and the town was com- paratively safe.
From this place the trail was over the snow, but it was settled hard and was no inconvenience to traverse. Oro Fino was almost buried in snow, it having been shoveled from the streets and banked up on either side higher than the tops of the low houses. Through- out the winter the people had been penned up without communication with the outside world. Flour, bacon, beans, coffee and sugar were plenty, but there was no fresh meat or vegetables in camp, and that dreadful disease, scurvy, was not uncommon. It is said to be induced by eating too much salt meat. Fresh meat or vegetables are preventatives, and all were waiting anxiously for the trains of pack mules to come and bring those much needed articles.
I found some old friends and went to work with them in a small gulch which empties into Moore's creek.
The snow was several feet deep. but had thawed away near the streams. We took out about $8 per day, per man, and it was a pleasure to me to once more commence to lay up a fortune, for I had by no means abandoned the idea of making one. One day I took a near cut across the hills to town; about half a mile from our camp I came across a little cabin among a cluster of fir trees. Curiosity led me to enter it. The door was closed, but opened easily at a slight touch, and I saw before me on a miner's cot, what caused my heart to stand still -a dead man. He was lying on his side, covered, except the head and neck, with blankets, and had apparently been dead
80
OREGON NATIVE SON.
some time. I made but a cursory exam- ination and hurried back to camp. Gath- ering a few men, we returned to bury the body and discover, if possible, the cause of such a lonely and strange death.
There were no marks of violence, and his last act seemed to have been to com- pose himself as if to sleep. Beside his head, on his straw pillow, lay a small book, in which he had kept a diary of his doings since coming to the cabin. He had found it deserted, and, being tired and sick, had concluded to go no farther until spring. He had his blank- ets, a coffee pot, frying pan, and small stock of provisions.
His writing showed that he was in- sane when he arrived at the cabin, or became so soon after, and had deliber- ately concluded to starve, when his slen- der stock or food was gone. Each day he had made an entry, noting the condi- tion of his mind and body, and some- times moralizing on the depravity and selfishness of mankind. He declared that money was all men cared for; that he had once had money, and was loved by all. Now he was poor and no one cared whether he lived or died; but that he thought too much of himself to ask for charity.
He had fastened strings to the door so that he could open and shut it while he , was lying in bed. His name, if given, has escaped my memory, and I do not know whether anything more was ever known of him than was gathered at that hurried inquest.
The body had been frozen stiff for two months, and was lying within a quarter of a mile of plenty of provisions, and of generous men, who would gladly have relieved him had they known of his dis- tress.
It was sad to know a human being had died for want of food-sad to con- template his rash resolve to starve rath- er than ask a crust of bread of inen who gave as free as air. Yet all telt it was his own fault, and nothing but the be- lief that he was insane prevented a tinge of censure from mingling with the sor-
row felt, as he was laid to rest beside the cabin where he died.
Meantime spring was coming on, the streanis were swollen by the melting snow.
The town awoke to shout for joy to see the mule trains coming in, and all gave promise of returning life and ac- tivity. Again the merchant opened up his wares. Again saloons were filled, and pistols popped about their doors, or bellowed within their walls. It was a blessing that there were many poor shots, or else the town would have been depopulated by its own business activity. It was strange so much shooting was done and with so little malice. Some- times shots were fired by Californians at Webfeet, just for fun.
Jerome, a blooded Irishman, being more closely crowded in a saloon one day than suited his taste, drew a dra- goon pistol, and, laying it over his shoulder, fired four shots at the packed crowd behind him. The first shot hit a man in the temple, but the ball glanced around the skull and did not kill him. The other three were avoided by men who were in range by dropping down, while the bullets passed over their heads.
The saloon was quickly emptied, and Jerome, after breaking all the bar fix- tures and re-loading his pistol, walked into the street and defied arrest. Tom Can, the deputy sheriff, placed his pis- tol to Jerome's ear, and told him to sur- render. He refused, and Tom did not shoot, but wound his arms around him and held him fast. He was taken to Lewiston for trial, but was never pun- ished, and came back to camp. He was well received in town, the sports declar- ing it was quite a joke, that he had shown no malice; but fired among the crowd quite promiscuously, and just for sport.
Our little gulch claim was soon work- ed out and, the snow having disappear- ed from the hills, I again set out for the old camp at Elk City, in company with a friend, carrying our blankets and pro- visions on our backs. Following the old Lolo trail, a day's tramp brought
81
TALES OF THE MINES.
us to the stream of that name. Here we found an enterprising Nez Perce In- dian. He had built a large bridge on which pack animals could cross and was collecting toll. He charged one dollar per head for mules and horses, and in- sisted on making us pay the same, de- claring in the best Chinook he could command that we were heavier loaded than any animals which had ever cross- ed his bridge. How we all love praise! We paid that dollar more cheerfully be- cause an Indian had said we were very strong young men and our loads felt lighter when remembering that word of praise. The second day we stopped at noon among the spruce trees. My com- panion decided to have some spruce tea. He said it was very good-supe- rior, in fact, to the best China teas. We filled our coffee pot with the green boughs, covered them with water and while our bacon was frying, made our tea. It had a greenish color and did not taste well, but by using plenty of sugar we managed to drink about a pint each; my friend declaring that whether we liked it or not, it was good for our health. How shall I tell the sequel? My friend grew deathly sick, and I was soon unable to render him any assist- ance. He rolled and tumbled. gnashed his teeth and swore, while I was half be- side myself with fright and pain. I fully believed we were poisoned unto the death and that a few moments would end our sufferings, and we should die and be eaten by the coyotes.
It was not a pleasant thought, and I commenced to think of remedies. We had no medicines except a small box of anguentum intended only for external application, and I was afraid it would prove another poison if taken into tlie stomach. I had once doctored a sick cow with lard and concluded to try ba- con grease on my sick partner. If it did not kill him, I would try some myself. Ile declared it was of no use; that he was dying and only begged me, if I should survive to tell his girl that he died thinking of her, and to ask her not to marry Lige Howard. He would not take my medicine and I placed the cup
to his lips and forced him to drink half a pint of warm grease. The effect was magical. He was relieved instantly, and I proceeded to fry a little more ba- con that I might relieve my own suf- fering. I am 'not a chemist or a physi- cian and do not know whether we made a great discovery or not. I simply point the physicians' telescope to this portion of the medical horizon, believ- ing there are stars there of the first mag- nitude awaiting discovery. After two days' convalescence we were able to travel, but during our entire journey our loads felt heavier from the effects of spruce tea.
Elk City has already awoke from its winter nap. Crowds were in the streets and unsuccessful miners from Florence were opening up their old claims with something of the resignation a man feels when he again pays court to his old sweetheart, after having wasted his sub- stance in riotous living, while vainly pur- suing some dashing belle. Florence had proved an ignis fatuus to the greater number who had gone there, and we re- turned to our little camps resigned to our lot, determined to work industrious- ly and roam no more.
About this time I met B. W. Wilson, of Benton county. He was then in the vigor of youth, and one of the most agreeable of men. In fact, time has changed him but little, except that the affable expression worn by him now during his campaigns in the Burnt Woods was then a settled look; and he shook hands with a bummer or despera- do with the same gusto which he now exhibits when reaching for a democrat or prohibitionist.
My journey through the mountains had given me a taste for travel, and I soon tired of mining and sold my claim for $1800, and concluded to try packing. As all supplies were brought on pack animals, this was a lucrative business, and I figured my profit by the thous- ands, and again expected to be able to go home in the fall, and exhibit my gold and tell of my adventures and quietly settle down among my Webfeet brethren there. Thoughts cheered me
.
82
OREGON NATIVE SON.
as I enlisted a few vicious mules and sinful cayuses under my banner and en- deavored to discipline them to the art of carrying flour and bacon, picks, shov- els, etc., upon their backs.
It so happened that none of them had ever been packed and all of them were determined they never would be. The antics they cut when' turned loose with packs upon their backs was a menagerie worth seeing, but after tiring themselves out they submitted and were driven along quietly, but wearing a very deject- ed look. There is something pathetic in seeing a fine horse reluctantly yield his sovereignty and submit to a life of drudgery. I made several trips from Lewiston to Elk City, and Oro Fino, realizing fair profits but falling far short . of niy expectations.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.