An illustrated history of Skagit and Snohomish Counties; their people, their commerce and their resources, with an outline of the early history of the state of Washington, Part 90

Author: Inter-state Publishing Company (Chicago, Ill.)
Publication date: 1906
Publisher: [Chicago] Interstate Publishing Company
Number of Pages: 1172

USA > Washington > Skagit County > An illustrated history of Skagit and Snohomish Counties; their people, their commerce and their resources, with an outline of the early history of the state of Washington > Part 90
USA > Washington > Snohomish County > An illustrated history of Skagit and Snohomish Counties; their people, their commerce and their resources, with an outline of the early history of the state of Washington > Part 90

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(The La Conner House). Mr. O'Longhlin had started a tin shop and J. S. Conner was diking and improving his pre-emption claim upon which his family resides at the present time. I attended a dance on the evening of my arrival, given in the hotel dining room. All the ladies for miles around were present. They were Mrs. J. S. Conner and her daughter, Ida, then about ten years of age; Mrs. James O'Loughlin, Mrs. James A. Gilliland, Mrs. John Terrace, Mrs. Robert White, Mrs. John Cornelius and Mrs. E. T. Dodge.

In the spring of 1973 there came an order from the Indian Department at Washington that all employees of the government in the Indian service who were living with Indian women, should marry or be dismissed from the service. There was a man by the name of Finkbonner, who, at that time, was a sub-agent on the Lummi reservation. Mr. Finkbonner was an intelligent, well-educated man, who had come to the territory at an early date and had been liv- ing with an Indian woman for years, in fact, had a large family of children by her. He refused, however, to marry the woman and as a conse- quence was dismissed from the service. I was appointed in his place. The singular thing about this episode was that a year later the Masonic order promulgated about the same order, that Masons living with Indian women be suspended from their respective lodges unless they abandoned or married them. Mr. Finkbon- ner, who was a Mason of high standing, decided to marry his squaw rather than suffer dismissal. It was the first wedding of a white man to an Indian woman that I ever attended. I was invited by Mr. Finkbonner to witness the mar- riage ceremony at his home on the Gulf of Georgia. There were six or seven of their children that sat down with us at the wedding breakfast. The squaw men were in those days among the leading people of the sound. Mr. Finkbonner had been treasurer of the county, representative to the territorial legislature and probate judge. Charley Couts and John Plaster, both squaw men, were serving as sheriff and probate judge respectively, when I took charge of the Lummi reservation. John Plaster's squaw died shortly after my arrival, and on the very day of the funeral, the bereaved husband made an offer of forty dollars for the heart and hand of her sister who was then about fourteen years of age. The Indian father declined the munificent offer, telling the judge he should be ashamed of himself-that the girl was only a child. Plaster a year or so later married the dusky maiden. As the territory increased in population and the white women became more numerous, the squaw man lost his social stand- ing as well as his political prestige, and as a

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consequence he was slowly but surely relegated to the rear. To-day the squaw man is but a memory.

1n 1873, I attended the first Fourth of July celebration ever given in La Conner. While the audience on that memorable occasion was the smallest of any like gathering I have ever wit- nessed. yet it made up in patriotic enthusiasm what it lacked in numbers. A man by the name of John Campbell was the orator of the day. Campbell at that time ran a small trading post at the jam on the Skagit river. He was a fluent and ready speaker and kept his audience convulsed with laughter during the entire dis- course. His picture of La Conner and its people in 1900 appeared to most of those present as it appeared to me, considering the raw state of the country and our isolation from the rest of the world, "a pipe dream," a picture drawn from a too fervid imagination, yet those who live to recall that epoch in our history will agree that it fell short of the actual realization. Poor Camp- bell did not live long enough to see any of his predictions verified.

On a canoe trip up the Skagit river the fol- lowing year in company with James O'Loughlin and wife, Mrs. J. S. Conner, James Gaches and Edward Seigfried, while camping for the night opposite the present town of Hamilton, Camp- bell became violently insane. He had retired without the knowledge of the rest of the party some distance into the forest, and startled his companions from a sound slumber into sudden wakefulness by the most piercing, blood-curdling shrieks, repeating a number of times, "Ted- anh-an, Ted-auh-an," the name of a Skagit river Indian. That most of the party were dreadfully alarmed, not knowing or suspecting what really had happened, goes without saying. It was a terrifying moment. The wild and unsettled country, the unearthly shrieks coming at such an hour, and in such a place, completely unnerved them, making the hair on their heads stand and thrilling the blood in their hearts.

After locating Campbell in the woods, it was all the three men could do to restrain him, but fortunately for them, after the first outbreak, his insanity took a milder form of religious dementia. To induce him to return to La Conner without force (as the ladies of the party refused to pro- ceed further or return with him) O'Loughlin hit on the expedient of using the writer's name to a letter that he claimed he had received from an Indian courier from La Conner. The letter requested Campbell to return to La Conner imme- diately as Father Chirouse was at the Swinomish reservation and wanted to see him. Campbell took the bait without the least suspicion.

* *

In the spring of 1876 there were five young men who had taken claims at the junction of Baker river with the Skagit. I can only remem-

ber three of their names, Messrs. Everett, Cobb and Sanger. Shortly after locating their claims, the Indians, who were jealous of this advance guard of civilization, became very insolent and even threatening. They landed one morning in considerable force at Everett's home, where the white men were gathered for mutual protection, all togged out in their war paint and feathers. They demanded that the whites abandon their claims and move down the river, that the land was theirs, given to them by the great Soc-la- Tyee (God) and that they would resist any fur- ther encroachinent on their lands. The settlers were well armed, determined men, but knowing well the temper of the Indians, very conciliatory ; and fortunately for all concerned the matter passed off without bloodshed.

Complaint, however, was made by the young men in a letter to General R. H. Milroy at Olympia, stating the facts in the case with the request that an agent be sent up as soon as pos- sible to settle the trouble, as owing to the temper of the Indians, they (the subscribers) were in danger of their lives. I was selected to fill the important mission. I secured a couple of Skagit river Indians to pole me up the river in one of their shovel-nosed canoes, one standing in the stern, the other in the bow. The sound Indians at that time were afraid of the river Indians and I could not prevail on any of them to take me up the river. They said that the Stick (wood) Indians were "high-as-machy" (very bad). 1t took us three days to reach Everett's place. The first obstacle we encountered was the log jam be- tween the present towns of East and West Mount Vernon. The jam was fully three quarters of a mile long. Trees of large growth were growing in many places on it, proving conclusively that this tremendous obstruction to the navigation of the largest river in western Washington had been the accumulation of years, before the settle- ment of the country by the whites. Clothier & English were running the only store in the place, and a Mrs. Shott the hotel, which consisted of one room and a kitchen, with a loft overhead for the traveling public to spread their blankets.

I remember, after eating a hearty supper of bacon and eggs (Mrs. Shott was a good cook), I reached the garret by climbing a ladder through a trap door. A tallow candle illuminated the room where there were already a dozen or so of men asleep. The first night out after leaving the jam I spent with a settler by the name of Williamson, on the present site of Lyman. Will- iamson was engaged in the cultivation of hops: the pioneer of the hop industry in Whatcom county (Skagit county did not exist). I slept, rolled up in my blankets on an Indian mat, in front of a huge fireplace. It had but one jam, so that logs of most any length that could be brought into the cabin could be burned. It was. a great labor-saving fireplace.

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On my arrival at Mr. Everett's cabin, I sent word to the Sauk river Indians to come down and have a friendly talk with me. They arrived next day headed by John Wha-wit-can. their head chief .. We held our council on the banks of the Skagit river. £ I spoke very plainly, but kindly to the Indians. I gave them to under- stand that the whites were acting within their rights in taking up homesteads in what they (the Indians) claimed as their exclusive territory, that they had ceded all those lands by the Point Elliot treaty in 1555; that, as a tribe their homes were either on the Tulalip or Swinomish reservation as they might elect, and finally, that the white settlers would be protected in their rights by the strong arm of the Great Father in Washington.

The young bucks became greatly excited on hearing my statement, and one of the sub-chiefs openly advocated force, but the good counsel of John Wha-wit-can prevailed. They insisted, however, that the white settlers should go no higher up the river. They claimed that they had never ceded their lands by treaty or other- wise to the government of the United States; that their Tyees' did not take any part in the Point Elliot treaty and therefore were not bound by its compact; that Governor Stevens fooled the Indians and robbed them of their lands by false promises and cultus ictus (cheap trinkets), and that they would never go on a reservation, so our council closed, the old chief presenting me with a beautiful feather hat as a token of his regards.

Several years later and shortly after the subsidence of the Ruby Creek gold excitement, a surveying party headed by Tilt Sheats, a veteran surveyor, was driven out of the county by the Indians. A company of soldiers was sent up on the steamer "Fanny Lake" (the jam having been removed), and remained most of the sum- mer patrolling the upper river. This demonstra- tion of force by the government broke the war- like spirit of the Indians. They saw that it was useless, so submitted to the inevitable. There is but a remnant of this once powerful tribe left. They were true to their traditions and could not be induced to leave the home of their fathers.

GENERAL MCDOWELL AND CHIEF BONAPARTE

The disposition to judge the man by his dress is not confined to barbarians or savages, but perhaps the untutored Indian is even more likely to err in that respect than his refined and civ- ilized white brother, who is so frequently victim- ized by the immaculately attired charlatan. It is difficult for any of us to realize that inen are not always what they seem. A dainty cravat, plenty of starch, carefully creased pantaloons, a well-fitting frock coat and a high silk hat, com- bined with a studied dignity of bearing, will at once place their possessor in the ranks of the

distinguished, while the man in negligee attire will have hard work to impress anyone that he is much above the common herd, however exalted his talents, high his rank, or proud his name.

An amusing incident is related of a failure of negotiations with an Indian chieftain on the Tul- alip reservation, because the representative of the government on that particular occasion had laid aside his military garb and was following the example of Grant at Appomattox in the matter of dress.

Many years ago, when General MeDowell was making a tour of the sound, he visited a number of the Indian reservations, among them the Tul- alip in Snohomish county. S. D. Howe, who was then agent, received him cordially, and wishing to gain as much good as possible to his wards by the visit, called in all the chiefs to the agency buildings for a conference, stating that a big soldier man was there and wished to see them. The chiefs came at once, among them one whose name was Whonaper, but who was known to the whites as Bonaparte.

Now Bonaparte was a firm believer in the fitness of things, and was fully resolved that so momentous an occasion as a conference between himself and the representative of the govern- ment should be characterized by great dignity and elaborate display. Accordingly, when he entered the council room accompanied by his interpreter, he was attired in strict accord with his notions of propriety. His habit consisted of a pair of black pantaloons; a British red coat with epaulets, a stove-pipe hat bedecked with gorgeous feathers, a red Spanish sash about his waist, in which were partially concealed a brace of old flint-lock horse pistols; a long sword hung at his side ; a pair of unmatched kid gloves ; a pair of brass-bowed spectacles astride his nose; a long cane with a large brass head in his hand and a fancy necklace adorned with talons and beaks of hawks and eagles, the tooth of a beaver and other savage ornaments.

As soon as the general and the chiefs had been introduced with due ceremony, Mr. Howe addressed the assembly substantially as follows: "General McDowell is a very great chief among the soldiers, the greatest chief of all; the Presi- dent has sent him out here to have a talk with the Indians on Puget sound, and if any of you have anything to say the general would be pleased to hear it, and to repeat all you have to say to the great chief at Washington."

Meanwhile Chief Bonaparte had been eveing suspiciously General McDowell's very ordinary suit of citizen's clothing, and plainly sizing up their owner very unfavorably. For some min- utes after Howe had ceased speaking, not a word was said, but at length Chief Bonaparte arose with becoming dignity, and speaking through his interpreter, said: "If General McDowell has come here to talk with us, he must first speak. "

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Thereupon the general arose and said: "The great chief, the president, at Washington, had been informed that the Indians were dissat- isfied with the treatment they had received from the Bostons, and that they had threatened to fight and kill the white settlers on Puget sound. I have come out here to inquire into the matter, to find out what is the trouble, and to try to fix up things without killing each other. If any of the Bostons have molested or injured any of the Indians, I want to know it, and I will have them punished. The great chief at Washington does not wish to fight and kill the Indians. I think there is room enough here for all the Indians and whites, and hope they will live and get along peaceably together.

Another silence followed this speech, then Bonaparte rose to his full height, smote himself proudly on the breast, and with great fire and hauteur said :

"Look at me! Do I look like a common Siwash? I am dressed as becomes a warrior and a chief among my people. Look at me! Do I look like the rest of my people? I am a chief among my people and my dress shows it. You say you are a chief, a great soldier man, that you have been sent out here by the great chief, the president at Washington. I look at you; your dress is the same as Mr. Howe's. You look the same as any common white man. I have seen soldier chiefs at Steilacoom, and I have seen King George's soldier chiefs at Victoria, and they dressed differently from common people ; they dressed as I do; but you dress the same as any worthless Boston. I do not believe you are a chief at all. I think you lie. Good day, sir."

Thereupon the old chieftain strode out of the room, followed by all the other Indians, abruptly terminating the interview. The confu- sion of Mr. Howe and General McDowell may be imagined.

AN INDIAN SHAM BATTLE

Comparatively few white men, now living, have enjoyed the opportunity of witnessing Indian inter-tribal warfare, and hardly less rarely have white men witnessed sham battles among the red men, yet David E. Kimble, a well known pioneer of Mount Vernon, has seen both at his place on the Skagit in early days. It appears that "Jim," a "Stick," or Skagit river Indian, was foully murdered in the summer of 1874 at Utsalady by the "Salt Waters." The affair caused intense excitement among the "Sticks," who forthwith commenced preparations to go on the warpath. The killing of an Indian was not an incident of rare occurrence, for these tribal attacks were to be counted upon as cus- tomary diversions from the routine of hunting, fishing and sleeping; nevertheless each "mima- loose" only recalled the past with renewed

bitterness and desire for revenge. In these sanguinary conflicts, the sound, or salt water, Indians very often came out ahead, but neither tribe won complete victories, and the warfare dragged along in Indian fashion. At times in the conflict pitched battles of considerable mag- nitude were fought, then the struggle would again relapse into mere individual encounters, but it never ceased entirely until the whites became so numerous that undisturbed battle grounds could no longer be found. To this day the sound Indians look down upon their inland brothers, while the river dwellers have an utter contempt for the clam diggers of salt water.

On the occasion of Jim's death, Thomas Craney, the Utsalady mill owner, on whose prop- erty the murder took place, sent word to the "Sticks" to come and get the body. "Skookum Charlie," a chief of the tribe, with one hundred warriors was found by the messenger encamped at a rancheré near Campbell's store at Skagit City. A pow-wow followed in which all the head men participated and which was still in progress when sentinels came rushing in to report the arrival of the enemy. There was no mistake, for swiftly the dreaded war canoes came around the bend and set toward the ranchere. War cries, shrill, blood-curdling, ringing with frenzy, rent the silence of those unsettled soli- tudes, alternately chilling and heating the blood. Full sixty half-naked, painted Camanos manned their marvelous canoes. The quick rhythmic stroke of the paddles, the stroke shortening as the scene of battle was approached, sent the high-prowed boats through the water by leaps. As they neared the shore paddles were replaced by weapons of all sorts and styles, the coxswain alone retaining his to guide the speeding canoe. The most casual onlooker could observe at once how wonderful was the skill of these savage boatmen, how delicately responsive to their slightest touch the long, narrow shell, and how perfectly graceful and at ease their movements.

Bravely the "Sticks" met the attack from behind trees, brush, hillock and grass. With an exultant yell, the attacking boatmen swept up to the bank, poured out a volley, disembarked and rushed to the attack. The "Sticks" took the offensive the moment the enemy landed and with whoops and yells rushed at the Camanos. Rifles cracked, shot guns roared, pistols blazed forth the fury of the combatants, clubs and missiles were hurled back and forth, but the battle was but for a moment. The "Sticks" had never recovered from their surprise, could not withstand the fierceness of the Camanos' onslaught, and soon began a slow retreat into the woods, endeavoring to lure on the foe. The foe divined their game, however, and, having accomplished its objects successfully, rushed to the waiting canoes and was soon going down stream as rapidly as it had come up, giving

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expression to its exultation in prolonged yelling. Several "Sticks" had joined their forefathers in the happy hunting grounds, among them one nearly blind, shot down by a boy in revenge for the supposed death at his hand of the lad's father It was noticed that two or three Camanos fell from the canoes in the attack, but so far as is known they were only wounded. Before the sun went down that night the defcated, chagrined "Sticks" had gathered together their dead, and over the bodies of the fallen heroes were chant- ing the last sad dirges. Shortly afterward, wrapped in their brightest blankets and supplied with food, clothing and trinkets, the deceased braves were carefully laid away in favorite canoes placed high in the branches of the nearest "mim- aloose" grove. Thus the first and tragic part of the incident was closed and Mr. Kimble returned to his peaceful task of homebuilding as though nothing of moment had occurred.

A month later "Skookum Charlie,"' leading an immense band of the "Sticks," gathered from far up and down the river, appeared at the Kimble cabin. The warriors were dressed and armed for fighting, fierce in expression and aggressive in movement. It was plain that they meant business. Mr. Kimble had just returned from a trip to the postoffice and store at La Conner, -an arduous journey in those times and one seldom made. The haughty chief came to the point, after the customary exchange of civilities without which no Indian chieftain ever proceeds seriously, with a request for temporary use of Mr. Kimble's land for "cultus mamma poo" purposes. In plain English the Skagits wished to fight a sham battle on the ranch, probably because they had used that ground in former days 'before the white man's advent and for the further reason that, being partly cleared, it permitted of more maneuver- ing than was possible in the woods. Further- more, it is evident that the Kimble place was regarded as a species of neutral zone. The sham battle was not a diversion with these Indians, a mere play. Its purpose was to convey a challenge to their enemies, as reports of it would be carried by special messenger to the coast, with descrip- tions of its skill, fierceness, length and other details important in judging of its true signi- ficance.

Just opposite the old Kimble home, separated from it by a narrow, short slough, a low, sparsely timbered and partly cleared point jutted out into the river. Here the warriors made headquarters. The battle was fought in three parts, or rather, repeated three times, with brief impassioned addresses after each part by "Skookum Charlie" and leading braves. These savage orators spoke from stumps with much impressiveness, much feeling. There was eloquence in their bodies, in the eye, which needed not the interpretation of vocal language to convey its meaning to the spellbound Kimble family who watched the scene

from the cabin. The battle demonstrations con- sisted in wild rushes from out the woods, the firing of guns, fiendish yells and whoops, beating of war drums, and, to some extent, the production of physical distress. It was a picturesque affair, strange, intensely interesting, weird, typically Indian in its every phase.

WHITE MAN VERSUS INDIANS

About two miles, by water, above Stanwood, or less than three-quarters of a mile by trail, the Stillaguamish makes a final sharp bend before taking a straight course for Florence. The point of land so formed is now the Goodridge ranch, widely famed throughout the valley for its picturesque location, its cherry orchard and its hospitable owners. When Gardner Goodridge came during the middle sixties to hew out a home in this wilderness, the natural beauty of the spot and the richness of its soil led him to select the point as his claim, so he plunged into the dense jungle and a few rods from the shore, erected his cabin, into which he and his faithful wife soon moved.

A little later he commenced the gigantic task of clearing the land, but immediately found an obstacle of some consequence in his way, namely, an Indian burial ground. This lay just around the point above the house, and with its gruesome canoe coffins, suspended high in the trees, was anything but pleasant to the settler. To enable the red men to remove their dead, he at once gave ten days' notice of his intention to clear the ground, allowing also three days of grace. Back came the reply by special messenger, refusing to disturb the sacred dead, and challenging the intruding "Boston" to touch so much as a hair in that graveyard. Should he raise a hand against the mighty braves whose bodies reposed in peace, said the Siwashes, the Great Spirit would strike him dead. He didn't dare to follow out his declared intentions, said the messenger as he strode away in hanghty anger and shoved his canoe into the stream.

At once Goodridge began work on the burial grove. Down came the trees, down came dead Indians and canoes! When convenient, splash went the honored dead with their rotting fincry and trappings into the river! More of them were unceremoniously stacked up into huge piles and together with brush and other debris went sky- ward in clouds of smoke and sparks. Goodridge wasn't particular. He had offered the Indians what he considered a fair chance to preserve the remains of their deceased friends, and upon their refusal, was pursuing the only course he could and remain on the claim. So he redoubled his ener- gies in his effort to finish the job as soon as pos- sible, for it wasn't pleasant or healthy work, - and he needed the land.

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An illustrated history of Skagit and Snohomish Counties; their people, their commerce and their resources, with an outline of the early history of the state of Washington, Part 90

Author: Inter-state Publishing Company (Chicago, Ill.) Publication date: 1906 Publisher: [Chicago] Interstate Publishing Company Number of Pages: 1172

Author: Inter-state Publishing Company (Chicago, Ill.)
Publication date: 1906
Publisher: [Chicago] Interstate Publishing Company
Number of Pages: 1172