USA > Oregon > The Oregon native son, 1900-1901 > Part 11
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The mining season was again drawing to a close and when the mountain tops were whitened by the early snows, the miners began to leave the chilly gulches and seek more comfortable winter quar- ters. For the last time I bid adieu to Elk City, the place of my first mining operation, and again started on my way to the land where red apples were being gathered and red-cheeked girls were watching from rude doorways for the return of the gold hunters. At the Cold Springs. on Camas Prairie, we intersect- ed the line of travel from Florence. Some were loaded down with gold, but many were poorer than when they came. Several of whom we met had been robbed by highwaymen, having gone through the trying ordeal of looking in- to the open end of a shotgun while their pockets were being sifted.
This species of speculation was car- ried on by day and by night, and had become so common that it was difficult for one to get through from Florence with gold dust unless accompanied by a strong guard of armed men. As we arrived at Lewiston, the Walla Walla stage drew up. guarded by six horse- men. and carrying as prisoners Dave English, Nelson Scott and Billy Peo- ples. They had been taking purses right and left along the road between Lewiston and Florence, and were con-
sidered three of the worst men in the whole mining region. Their latest ex- ploit was to rob an old friend by the name of Berry. They were not masked and Berry knew them quite well, and protested against their robbing an old acquaintance. They took about six thousand dollars from him. Dave Eng- lish remarked that "dead men tell no tales." Berry thought his last hour had come, but owed his life to the genero :- ity of Scott, who said, "No, he is a good man; we will not kill him, although we may hang for taking his money.
They bid him good bye and trusted to the fleetness of their horses to escape the pursuit which they knew would be made. The robbery took place on White Bird creek. The three men rode together until they were some distance below Lewiston when they separated. Scott and Peoples going to Walla Walla, while English headed his now tired horse toward Wallula. Mean- while Berry was not idle, and this time revenge was swifter than self-preserva- tion, for when English, in the early dawn, rode across the sand hill to Wal- lula, Berry looking from a window saw him coming, and quickly made prepara- tion for his reception. He dismounted and entered the saloon where his vic- tim and others awaited him. He was asked to take a drink, and as he reached the bar, he was confronted with a shot- gun. Glancing around he saw a pistol at each ear, while the muzzle of another gun touched the back of his head. Re- sistance would have been certain death, and all men shrink from that.
He smiled as he said, "Well, boys you played it pretty fine, but let us have a drink before the irons are put on me." The irons came first and then the drink. in which Berry joined, in honor of the occasion, no doubt remembering his prisoner's significant remark when last they parted. Scott was taken at Walla Walla and Peoples was taken some- where in that vicinity.
English, with his parents, was for many years a resident of the lower part of Benton county. He devoted his time
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to drinking. horse-racing, fighting, etc., and was known as a reckless man.
Scott lived in the upper part of Linn
county. He was a generous, light- hearted man. He was married to a beautiful girl, but became addicted to drinking and went steadily down until the irons were upon his wrists.
Scott and English were both large, handsome men, but Peoples was a little black imp about four feet high, who looked the villain that he was. A little chip cast off in nature's mint just large enough to receive half the stamp of man. He came to Oregon with Marshall's circus, the first one which had ever ex- hibited here, and had been a drunkard all his life.
As had been said, they came under guard to Lewiston on their way to Florence for trial. But they had many friends who determined to set them at liberty without the ceremony of trial. The whole whisky element of the town was enlisted in their cause. It is strange how drink will level rank and bring the high-born down to stand with thieves and robbers. Marshall, the old showman, was there, and headed the crowd to take the prisoners from the guards. Then the better element of the city arose to throw itself around the jail and stand between the prisoners and their reckless friends.
It was a dark and chilly night. and those who stood with arms in hand and listened to the frenzied shouts of the wild mob, as it ranged the town, firing shots and drinking on to wild insanity will not soon forget their impres- sions nor the temperance lecture thun- dered forth by those wild orgies.
From time to time reports of the com- ing of the reckless crowd of revelers were brought to the guards, who were lessening in numbers, as timid men crept away to avoid what seemed to be an in- evitable conflict. Still, about fifty de- termined men stood around the little shanty where the prisoners were anxious- ly awaiting the coming of their friends, who, they felt sure, would release them.
One half the night had worn away, when Marshall, growing impatient, came
down upon the guards alone. It was pitch dark, and on the damp ground his footfalls made no sound. Suddenly a bright flaine shot forth, followed by an other, and two men lay wounded on the ground.
Although the men had stood for hours with pistols in their hands, peering through the darkness to find a foe, they seemed to be taken by surprise, and for a moment no one returned the fire. Then, as Marshall's outline was discov- ered in the darkness, a single pistol cracked, and he fell, but recovered him- self and ran away before another shot was fired. Then all the latent fury of patient men broke forth. The prisoners were told that they must die. English and Peoples begged for mercy, but Scott made no appeal. Taking a ring from his finger, he quietly asked that it might be taken to his wife, and then, doubling up " his chains, he dealt blows right and left, with desperate might and almost super- human energy.
The night wore on, and still the rob- bers' friends were drinking. And when morning came the guards were gone and stillness reigned about the jail. All but the revelers knew what this meant, and when they ventured to look they found the three men hanging to the low joists of the little building which had served as their jail the night before. Marshall and the men he shot recovered. The roughs sought other scenes, and for a time Lew- iston was quiet.
Many people are opposed to hanging men under any circumstances, except after due process of law, but this action of the Lewiston people was induced by peculiar and aggravating circumstances, and was applauded by the best element of the community. As for myself, I was thankful that I had escaped being rob- bed, shot or hanged, and went on my way rejoicing that it was my Webfeet brethren, instead of myself, over whom a post mortem examination was being held. This reminds one that our opinion of mob law is likely to be somewhat in- fluenced by the question of who is to be hanged.
G. A. WAGGONER.
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LANE COUNTY
FROM ITS EARLIEST SETTLEMENT IN 1846, UNTIL ITS COUNTY ORGANIZATION IN 1850 AND 1851.
Reminiscences of Its Early Pioneers, Etc.
Until 1846 no pale-face, so far as known, had settled within the present boundary lines of Lane county.
Elijah Bristow, the first white settler, here cast his lot in June, 1846, from which time until the naming of the coun- ty most of the facts and most of the in- cidents of its early settlement are · inti- mately connected. He was born in Vir- ginia, and in early manhood moved to Kentucky, and from there to Illinois. In 1845 he once more started westward, arriving in California, but being dissat- isfied came on to Oregon. He seems to have been a man of roving disposition, with a love for frontier life.
In June, 1846 he, in company with Eugene F. Skinner, William Dodson and Capt. Felix Scott started up the Willamette valley in search of locations suitable for homes. This route was up the west side of the valley and after pass- ing the Luckiamute river no white man's abode was found thence going south to the end of their journey. On arriving at a point between the Coast Fork and the Middle Fork of the Willamette river, on a low, rolling ridge sparsely covered with oak, fir and pine timber, .they sim- ultaneously exclaimed, "What a pleas- ant hill!" And Pleasant Hill it will re- main, at least in name, so long as time shall endure.
Mr. Bristow was attracted by the beautiful panorama in the form of dis- tant mountains and valleys and sur- rounding hills, forest and vales, and which reminded him of similar landscape in far-off Virginia where he was born. In the refreshing breeze, free of all mias- ma, of civilization, he raised his hat and
gazing with delight, exclaimed, "This is my claim, here will I live, and when I die, here will I be buried!" Prophetic words that the future fulfilled.
Many Lane county people are familiar with the Pleasant Hill spring and grove where the annual May-Day picnic is held. It was near this spring, in the beautiful fir grove that the party of homeseekers camped. Here they cut logs and erected what was in those early days known as a "claim cabin, and which stood as a sign to all comers that here had a white man filed his intentions of becoming a citizen upon the public do- main.
This was the first cabin erected within the present limits of Lane county. And within this first cabin I have partaken of hospitality, since it stood less than two miles from where my earliest childhood days were spent, and there 'tis still stand- ing, though with improvements added. and at present is occupied by a family as a dwelling. I have also stood beside the graves of this early pioneer and his wife; for true to his exclamation, only a short distance from where he built that first cabin, in the little graveyard he gave to his people, under the friendly shadow of the firs he cherished, side by side, they sleep the sleep that awakens only. at the resurrection morn.
After Elijah Bristow staked off his claim and laid the foundation of his cab- in, William Dodson next stepped off his claini. southwest and adjoining that of Mr. Bristow's, and which also adjoined the home of my childhood on the east. lving between the Bristow farm and Whitaker farm, at that time unclaimed
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but located and settled upon later by John T. Gilfrey, a pioneer of '52, and which he disposed of to Jolin Whitaker in '59. Many a time I have crossed the threshold of the Dodson cabin, second built in the county, as it stood about one mile from our home. And none who liave ever met this aged pioneer, "Uncle Billy," as he was familiarly called, will, while memory remains, forget the kind- ly, rugged, unkempt old pioneer. For if ever a white man tried to live up to the saying, "When in Rome do as Rome does," he certainly did by trying, when in Oregon, to do and live as the "na- tives" did.
He lived to be an octogenarian and through this long life of fourscore years he most emphatically objected to the use of the modern button, and eschewed its existence on all his garments, adjust- ing his wardrobe by means of small wooden pins or pegs, and one of these was all that "Uncle Billy" deemed neces- sary to a garment. Yet, despite his ec- centricities, and peculiarities, the latch- string to his cabin door ever hung out- ward, inviting the stranger and less for- tunate to the hospitalities afforded with- in.
A short time after these cabins were commenced, Mr. Bristow and Mr. Dod- son were aided in completing them by Wesley Shannon, who had crossed the the plains with Mr. Bristow, and was his life-long friend and admirer. Mr. Shan- non at this time was a young man and fond of hunting.
One day on a deer hunt he chanced to ride a young horse which, having been ridden but a few times, was considered unsafe to fire from. He had not pro- ceeded far when he spied a deer: he well knew that if he dismounted, the deer, seeing him, would become frightened and take to the bruslı. He was also fully aware that to fire while mounted meant to be heaped without ceremony, save a few aerial flourishes, on the illahe. He hastily decided to have venison for sup- per. let it cost what it may. Removing his feet from the stirrups, he prepared to execute a few pirouettes in the air and
alight on the illahe as gracefully as cir- cumstances would permit. He then took deliberate aim and brought down his game, when lo, the animal never moved; while he quickly fell off according to programme.
Capt. Scott staked off his claim north- east of Bristow's, but afterwards aban- doned it and went to California. After a year or two he returned to Lane county, and settled permanently on the south bank of the Mckenzie river, op- posite the mouth of the Mohawk. As the four returned, Eugene F. Skinner took up a claim where a part of Eugene, the present county seat now stands. In the spring of 1847 Mr. Skinner built his cabin at the foot of the butte which now bears his name. It was built just north of the railroad track at the west end of the butte, near Second and Lincoln streets. Later on, in the summer of the same year, Mr. Skinner brought his wife and child to his new home, and to this lady, Mrs. Mary Skinner, justly belongs the honor of being the first white woman to make her permanent home in Lane countv.
When the town was first laid out she it was who had the honor of naming it, which she did, after her husband's first name, Eugene. Some small recom- pense, possibly, for the lonely and isolat- ed life necessarily led for some time by this noble pioneer woman to feel that through the ages to come the butte bear- ing his surname and the town his Chris- tian, would stand as living monuments attesting the name and worth of her hon- ored pioneer husband, Eugene Skinner. Little did she then dream that the day was not far distant when the iron horse would snort past the place where his cabin stood and the electric lights flash where once the torch of pine was chief illuminator of the darkness; and that other hands and other brains would soon complete what he and a few others so earnestly, unceasingly and untiringly began-"To make the wilderness blos- som as the rose."
In the year 1847 quite an emigration arrived in the Willamette valley, many of
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them remaining in Lane county, and were welcome neighbors to the original and solitary four above mentioned. Neighbors they were indeed, and of the Good Samaritan type, notwithstanding the fact that in many instances miles in- tervened. In sickness, hunger and dis- tress humanity's cry was quickly heeded. The hardy pioneer, inured to hardship and toil, had few of the necessaries and none of the luxuries of life, but he who had little divided with him who had less, and the spirit of true brotherhood pre- vailed. Burns wrote, "Man's inhumanity to man makes countless millions mourn," but the early pioneers were not of the sort of men of whom the Scottish bard sang .* They were destined to live in another age, and at present are peer- ing above the horizon, and the wail of the oppressed is heard throughout the land.
Of these latest arrivals Isaac and Elias Briggs, Prior Blair and Charles Martin with their families, took up claims on Pleasant Hill near Mr. Bristow's, while Benjamin Davis, John Akin and H. Noble, with their families, settled near Mr. Skinner. Cornelius Hills, Charnel Mulligan and Wickliff Gouley, single men, settled on the north side of the Middle Fork.
Abram Coryell and son Lewis settled at Coryell Point, a place about midway between Bristow's and Skinner's near where the Coast Fork and Middle Fork unite to form Sam Simpson's "Beautiful Willamette."
During this year Abram Coryell kept the first weather record of the county, and said record is still in existence. the prized paper of a native grandson. This same year, October, '47. Jacob C. Spores and John Diamond located claims near the Mckenzie river, their nearest neigh- bors at that time being at Pleasant Hill and the cabin of Eugene Skinner. "Uncle" Jake Spores located his claim at a point on the east bank of the Mc- Kenzie river, afterward's known as Spore's ferry, between where the rail- road bridge and wagon road bridge now
stand, and this place, during the remain- der of a long life, was his home.
Before being called upon to lay down the burden of life, he had reached his 96th milestone. And to one of his daughters, Martha Spores Mulligan, an honest, true-hearted pioneer woman, do we daughters of Cabin No. 3, owe the honored name of our cabin.
John Diamond, from whom the cele- brated peak in the Cascade range takes its name, located his claim where Co- burg now stands. In the early 50's John Diamond, in company with four other men, started to view a road from Eugene to the summit of the Cascade mountains. via, the Middle Fork of the Willamette river. On the way over they experi- enced many difficulties, being the first white men to cross by that route. On that trip Mr. Diamond ascended a snow peak to the left of the road, going east: the others were unwilling to attempt the ascent. He reached the summit, and on turning told his companions that he wished it distinctly understood that he claimed that mountain. However, he has never made final proof. But the snow-mantled peak, which towers so majestically in the Cascade range on the east boundary line of Lane county, has since borne the name of Diamond's peak. Two miles east of Coburg, only a short distance from where he settled in 47 to carve out a name and fortune in the far West. he still resides, at the advanced age of eighty-five years, hale and hearty. one of nature's noblemen-"An honest man, the noblest work of God."
M. Wilkins, who is still living at the good old age of 82, also located a claim in this vicinity during the year 1847. M. Wilkins is well known as having been an earnest worker in behalf of the Oregon State Fair, and insists on being present at each annual meeting, although en- feebled by age and rendered almost help- less by paralysis. About this time Wm. Stevens arrived in the county, seeking a modern Garden of Eden for his large family. He decided to settle in the Wil- lamette Forks, locating the first claim therein, and the following year raised a
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garden that made him famous the coun- ty over for size, quality and quantity of Oregon products. He was a near neigh- bor of Captain Felix Scott, who, as be- fore stated, had abandoned his claim on Pleasant Hill and chosen one near where William Stevens had located.
One and one-half miles south of Cot- tage Grove there is living an aged pio- neer of '47, the first to permanently lo- cate a claim on the South Fork, "Uncle" Jimmie Chapin, as he is famil- iarly called, and is at present possessed of an active body and reliable memory, although time has bowed his form and dimmed his vision.
During 1848 immigration swelled the population of the county to more than double its former number. In the fall of this year Mr. Bristow's family arrived, together with James and Caswell Hen- dricks, Robert Callison, Michael and Harrison Shelley Abel Russell, Wm. Bowman, Calvin Hale, their families, and . others whose names I fail to secure. The majority of these took claims on Pleas- ant Hill.
About this time a claim was located where Cottage Grove now stands by a Mr. Wells and family. They remained on the place only a few years when they moved to Southern Oregon and perma- nently located. In the year 1848 the Fergusons, Richardsons. Browns and Hintons took claims on the Long Tom.
The first cabin in that locality was built by John B. Ferguson, and stood on the banks of that classical stream, the name of which is supposed to owe its origin to the exploits of a pioneer of Herculean size and strength, who, while crossing this stream of wonderful cognomen, on the back of a cuitan, was precipitated therein by that native steed swimming from beneath him, while he, towering above the rushing waters, boldly waded ashore, amid the plaudits of his compan- ions, who christened the stream "Long Tom."
"Uncle Bennie" Richardson and fam- ily of four sons and two daughters took up the next claim and built the second
cabin in the Long Tom country this same year.
Webfoot, the Oregon pseudonym, seems to have originated near the banks of the Long Tom. As the story runs, a commercial traveler, a rara avis, I pre- sume, in those days, was spending the night at the home of a farmer. It had been raining very hard, as it frequently does yet in the Willamette valley, and most of the Long Tom soil was sub- merged, which caused the traveler to sarcastically remark, "The children liv- ing around here ought to have been born web-footed." The farmer's wife replied, "We had thought of that," at the same time exhibiting to the astonished tourist her baby's feet, which had webs between the toes. The story lost nothing in tell- ing, and we still remain webfooters.
The year 1849 brought quite an influx to the county population. The Robin- sons and Riggs settled on Camas swale, east of Spencer butte. The swale was named from the plant scilla esculenta, or the camas of the natives, which grew there in abundance and formed one of the principal ingredients of the red man's muck-a-muck. Christy Spencer settled near the Scotts at this time and Elias Briggs located his claim where Springfield now stands. Here they dis- covered a spring that bubbled up clear and sparkling, from which weary pio- neers ofttimes quenched their thirst. As years rolled by that portion of the claim from which the spring gushed forth was fenced off for a field, hence, in after years, the name of the village, Spring- field.
Wm. Smith, in 1849, located a claim where Fairmont now stands, and there he lived and prospered many years.
In the year 1850 Stephen Jenkins and Martin Brown and wife took claims on Coyote creek, so named from that hilari- ous little animal which was very much in evidence there at that time. A little later on James Heatherly, Dr, Richard- son, Milton Richardson, Philip Cantell and J. C. Conger, with their families, located near by. Rev. J. C. Richardson, of Eugene, relates that as a child he well
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rementbers being permitted the pleasure of accompanying his father from their cabin on the Coyote to their neighbor Bristow's, on Pleasant Hill, a distance of twenty miles or more, stopping to take dinner at their neighbor Skinner's on the way, that being the only cabin be- tween the two places.
In the spring of 1850 Mr. George H. Armitage came to Lane county, and set- tled near Mr. Stephens, on the McKen- zie. He was a zealous worker, and un- tiring in his efforts to assist in every un- dertaking for the development of county interests and institutions. To him be- longs the honor of having first hoisted the Stars and Stripes within the present limits of Lane county, the banner being the handiwork of himself and wife, and was first unfurled to the breeze from the summit of Briggs' Butte during the elec- tion that settled Eugene as the county seat.
In 1851 John Bailey and Lewis D. Gibson settled on claims on Spencer creek. This creek takes its name from the butte of the same name, in which it has its source, and the butte derives its name from Indian tradition.
A young Englishman by the name of Spencer, in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company, who, in company with others, was sent through to California on a trading expedition with the Indians and Spanish, camped one pleasant after- noon on an old Indian trail that crosses Spencer creek. Young Spencer an- nounced his intentions of going hunting and sightseeing and proposed climbing the large butte to the eastward of camp in order to obtain a view of the sur- rounding country. This was the last seen of him alive. Failing to return, a search was instituted, which resulted in the finding, half way up the butte, of his nude and lifeless body shot full of ar- rows, which told the story only too well, which silent lips could not divulge the cruelty and treachery of the uncivilized red man.
"Uncle" Sam Baughman, another pio- neer of this year. is still living at Pleas- ant Hill, although at quite an advanced
age. Presley Comegys also located in Lane county during 1851. Hon. D. M. Risdon, who was a conspicuous figure in the early history of Eugene, located here at this time and was for many years closely identified with the early legisla- tive county history. In the year 1851 John Cogswell settled in the Mohawk valley, remaining one winter, after whichi he permanently located near the Mc- Kenzie river. At present he is living in Eugene, at the home of a daughter, and can be met on the streets most any pleas- ant day, his white hair and aged form proclaiming the fact that the Oregon pioneers of the 40's and early 50's will soon all be called to explore another and to us an unknown shore, from which no tidings ever come.
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