REV. CUSHING EELLS, D.D.
Founder of Whitman College.

It is not yet eight o'clock when the first watch is to be set; the evening meal is just over, and the corral now free from the intrusion of horses or cattle, groups of children are scattered over it. The larger are taking a game of romps; "the wee, toddling things" are being taught that great achievement which distinguishes men from the lower animals. Before a tent near the river, a violin makes lively music and some youths and maidens have improvised a dance upon the green; in another quarter a flute gives its mellow and melancholy notes to the still night air, which, as they float away over the quiet river, seem a lament for the past rather than for a hope of the future.

It has been a prosperous day; more than twenty miles have been accomplished of the great journey. The encampment is a good one; one of the causes that threatened much future delay has just been removed by the skill and energy of "that good angel" of the emigrants, Dr. Whitman, and it has lifted a load from the hearts of the elders. Many of these are assembled around the good doctor at the tent of the pilot (which is his home for the time being), and are giving grave attention to his wise and energetic counsel. The care-worn pilot sits aloof quietly smoking his pipe, for he knows the grave Doctor is "strength in his hands."

But time passes, the watch is set for the night, the council of good men has been broken up and each has returned to his own quarters. The flute has whispered its last lament to the deepening night. The violin is silent and the dancers have dispersed. Enamored youths have whispered a tender "good night" in the ear of blushing maidens, or stolen a kiss from the lips of some future bride; for Cupid, here as elsewhere, has been busy bringing together congenial hearts, and among these simple people, he alone is consulted in forming the marriage tie. Even the Doctor and the pilot have finished their confidential interview and have separated for the night. All is hushed and repose from the fatigues of the day, save the vigilant guard, and the wakeful leader who still has cares upon his mind that forbid sleep.

He hears the ten o'clock relief taking post, and the "all well" report of the returned guard; the night deepens, yet he seeks not the needed repose. At length a sentinel hurries to him with the welcome report that a party is approaching, as yet too far away for its character to be determined, and he instantly hurries out in the direction seen.

This he does both from inclination and duty, for, in times past, the camp has been unnecessarily alarmed by timid or inexperienced sentinels, causing much confusion and fright amongst women and children, and it had been made a rule that all extraordinary incidents of the night should be reported directly to the pilot, who alone had authority to call out the military strength of the column, or so much of it as was, in his judgment, necessary to prevent a stampede or repel an enemy.

To-night he is at no loss to determine that the approaching party are our missing hunters, and that they have met with success, and he only waits until, by some further signal, he can know that no ill has happened to them. This is not long wanting; he does not even wait their arrival, but the last care of the day being removed and the last duties performed, he, too, seeks the rest that will enable him to go through the same routine to-morrow. But here I leave him, for my task is also done, and, unlike his, it is to be repeated no more.

After passing through such trials and dangers, nothing could have been more cheering to these tired immigrants than the band of Cayuse and Nez Perces Indians, with pack mules loaded with supplies, meeting the Doctor upon the mountains with a glad welcome. From them he learned that in his absence his mill had been burned, but the Rev. H. H. Spalding, anticipating the needs of the caravan, had furnished flour from his mill, and nothing was ever more joyously received.

Dr. Whitman also received letters urging him to hurry on to his mission. He selected one of his most trusty Cayuse Indian guides, Istikus, and placed the company under his lead. He was no longer a necessity for its comfort and safety. The most notable event in pioneer history is reaching its culmination. That long train of canvas-covered wagons moving across the plains, those two hundred campfires at night, with shouts and laughter and singing of children, were all new and strange to these solitudes. As simple facts in history, to an American they are profoundly interesting, but to the thoughtful student who views results, they assume proportions whose grandeur is not easily over-estimated.

But the little band has come safely across the Rockies; has forded and swam many intervening rivers; the dreary plains, with saleratus dust and buffalo gnats, had been left behind, and here they stand upon a slope of the farthest western range of mountains, with the fertile foot hills and beautiful green meadows reaching as far away as the eye can see. The wagons are well bunched. For weeks they have been eager to see the land of promise. It is a goodly sight to see, as they file down the mountain side, one hundred and twenty-five wagons, one thousand head of loose stock, cattle, horses and sheep, and about one thousand men, women and children, and Oregon is saved to the Union.

Who did it?

We leave every thoughtful, honest reader to answer the query.

CHAPTER VIII.


A BACKWARD LOOK AT RESULTS.


The reader of history is often moved to admiration at the dash and courage of some bold hero, even when he has failed in the work he set out to accomplish. The genius to invent, with the courage to prosecute, has often failed in reaching the hoped-for results. The pages of history of all time are burdened with the plaintive cry, "Oh, for night or Blucher." It is the timeliness of great events that marks real genius, and the largest wisdom.

Of Whitman it was a leading characteristic. He did the right thing just at the right time. His faith was equal to his courage and when his duty was made clear to his mind, there was no impediment that he would not attempt to overcome. Now we are to study the results of his heroic ride, and will see how dangerous would have been any delay.

We have noted Webster's letter to the English Minister, dated in 1840, in which he said, "The ownership of the whole country (referring to Oregon) will likely follow the greater settlement and larger amount of population," and this we may say was the common sentiment of our early statesmen, and not peculiar to Mr. Webster. But Whitman had started a new train of thought and given a new direction to the policy of the administration.

The President believed in the truthful report of the hero with his frozen limbs, who had ridden four thousand miles in midwinter without pay or hope of reward, to plead for Oregon. Immediately upon the close of the conference the record shows that Secretary Webster wrote to Minister Everett and said: "The Government of the United States has never offered any line south of forty-nine and never will, and England must not expect anything south of the forty-ninth degree."

That is a wonderful change. Upon receipt of the news that Dr. Whitman, in June, "Had started to Oregon with a great caravan numbering nearly one thousand souls," another letter was sent to the English Minister, still more pointed and impressive.

The President and his Secretary at once began to arrange terms for a treaty with England regarding the boundary line, and negotiations were speedily begun. It did not look to be a hopeful task when the Ashburton-Webster Treaty, just signed in 1842, had been a bone of contention for forty-eight years. Still more did it look discouraging from the fact that diplomats the year before had resolved to leave the Oregon boundary out of the case, as it was said, "Otherwise it would likely defeat the whole treaty."

But suddenly new blood had been injected into American veins in and about Washington. They saw a great fertile country, thirty times as large as Massachusetts, which was rightfully theirs and yet claimed by a power many thousand miles separated from it. The national blood was aroused. A great political party, not satisfied with Secretary Webster's modest "latitude of forty-nine degrees" emblazoned on its banners, "Oregon and fifty-four forty or fight."

The spirit of '76 and 1812 seemed to have suddenly been aroused throughout the Nation. People did not stop to ask, who has done it, or how it all happened; but no intelligent or thoughtful student of history can doubt how it all happened, or who was its author. It was also easy to see that it was to be no forty-eight year campaign before the question must be adjudicated.

The Hon. Elwood Evans, in a speech in 1871, well said: "The arrival of Dr. Whitman in 1843 was opportune. The President was satisfied the territory was worth preserving." He continues: "If the offer had been made in the Ashburton Treaty of the forty-ninth parallel to the Columbia River and thence down the Columbia to the Pacific Ocean, it would have been accepted, but the visit of Whitman committed the President against any such settlement."

The offer was not made by English diplomats, because they intended to have a much larger slice. Captain Johnny Grant and the English Hudson Bay officials made their greatest blunder in allowing Whitman to make his perilous Winter ride. They were not prepared for the sudden change in American sentiment. In any enthusiasm for our hero, we would not willingly make any exaggerated claim for his services. Prior to the arrival of Whitman, President Tyler had shown thoughtful interest in the Oregon question, and in his message in 1842 he said: "In advance of the acquirement of individual rights to those lands, sound policy dictates that every effort should be resorted to by the two Governments to settle their respective claims."

Fifteen days before the arrival of Whitman, Senator Linn, always a firm friend of Oregon, in a resolution called for information, "Why Oregon was not included in the Ashburton-Webster Treaty." This resolution passed the Senate, but was defeated in the House. Neither the President, Senators, or Congressmen had the data upon which to base clear, intelligent action, and Whitman's arrival just when Congress was closing up its business gave no opportunity for the wider discussion which would have followed then and there. It was, however, another evidence of timeliness, which we wish to keep well to the front in all of Whitman's work.

All can see how fortunate it was that the Oregon boundary question was not included in the Ashburton Treaty in 1842, and that it had waited for later adjudication. During the summer of 1843 the people of the entire country had heard of the great overland emigration to Oregon, and on the 8th day of January, 1844, Congress was notified that the Whitman immigration to Oregon was a grand success, and upon the very day of the arrival of this news, a resolution was offered in the Senate which called for the instructions to our Minister in England, and all correspondence upon the subject. But the conservative Senate was not quite ready for such a move, and the resolution was defeated by a close vote. But two days after a similar resolution was passed by the House.

Urged to do so by Whitman, the Lees, Lovejoy, Spalding, Eells and others, scores of intelligent emigrants flooded their Congressmen with letters giving glowing descriptions of the beauty of the country, the fertility of the land, and the mildness and healthfulness of the climate. Even Senator Winthrop, who at one time declared that "Neither the West nor the country at large had any real interest in retaining Oregon; that we would not be straitened for elbow room in the West for a thousand years," was aroused to something of enthusiasm, and said in his place in the Senate: "For myself, certainly, I believe that we have a good title to the whole twelve degrees of latitude up to fifty-four, forty."

Senator Benton had long since materially changed his views from those he held when he had said that "The ridge of the Rocky Mountains may be named as the convenient, natural and everlasting boundary." Fremont, not Whitman, had converted him. Benton was aggressive and intelligent. In the discussion of 1844, he said: "Let the emigrants go on and carry their rifles. We want thirty thousand rifles in the valley of the Oregon. The war, if it come, will not be topical; it will not be confined to Oregon, but will embrace the possessions of the two powers throughout the Globe."

In the discussion, which took a wide turn, many of the eminent statesmen at that time took a part. Prominent among them was Calhoun, Linn, Benton, Choate, Berrien and Rives. Many of them tried the most persuasive words of peace, yet no one who reads the speeches and the proceedings, but will perceive the wonderful changes in public sentiment during a single year. The year 1844 ended with the struggle growing every day more intense. The English people had awakened to the fact that they had to meet the issue and there would not be any repetition of the old dallying with the Maine boundary. They sent to this country Minister Packenham as Minister Plenipotentiary to negotiate the treaty. Mr. Buchanan acted for the United States.

It was talk and counter-talk. Buchanan was one of the leading spirits in the demand for fifty-four forty, and his position was well understood both by the people of the United States and by England. President Tyler, in his final message, earnestly recommended the extension of the United States laws over the Territory of Oregon.

In this connection it will be remembered that Dr. Whitman, only a few months before the great massacre, in which he and his noble wife lost their lives, rode all the way to Oregon City to urge Judge Thornton to go to Washington and beg, on the part of the people of Oregon, for a "Provisional Government." Judge Thornton believed in Dr. Whitman's wisdom, and when the doctor declared that which seemed to be a prophecy, "Unless this is done, nothing will save even my mission from murder," the Judge said, "If Governor Abernethy will furnish me a letter to the President, I will go." The Governor promptly furnished the required letter and Judge Thornton resigned his position as Supreme Judge. All know of the fatal events at the Whitman Mission in less than two months after Judge Thornton's departure.

But the boundary question lapped over into Mr. Polk's administration in 1845 with a promise of lively times. President Polk, in December, 1845, made it the leading question in his message. He covers the whole question in dispute and says: "The proposition of compromise which has been made and rejected, was by my order withdrawn, and our title to the whole of Oregon asserted, and, as it is believed, maintained by irrefragable facts and arguments." The President recommended that the joint occupation treaty of 1818-1828 be terminated by the stipulated notice, and that the civil and criminal laws of the United States be extended over the whole of Oregon, and that a line of military posts be established along the route from the States to the Pacific.

If the reader will take the pains to read the paper which Dr. Whitman by request sent to the Secretary of War in 1843, republished in the appendix of this volume, he will find in it just the recommendations now two years later made by the President. The great misfortune was that it was not complied with promptly. War upon a grand scale seemed imminent. A leading Senator announced that "War may now be looked for almost inevitably."

The whole tone of public sentiment, in Congress and out, was that the United States owned Oregon, not only up to forty-nine degrees, but up to 54 degrees, 40 minutes. It was thought that the resolution of notice for the termination of the treaty would cause a declaration of war. For forty days the question was pending before the House and finally passed by the strong vote of 163 for to 54 against. In the Senate the resolution covered a still wider range and a longer time. But little else was thought or talked about. Business throughout the land was at a standstill in the suspense, or was hurrying to prepare for a great emergency. The wisest, coolest-headed Senators still regarded the question at issue open for peaceful settlement. They dwelt upon the horrors of a war, that would cost the Nation five hundred millions in treasure, besides the loss of life.

Webster, who had been so soundly abused for his Ashburton Treaty, had held aloof from this discussion. But there came a time when he could no longer remain silent, and he put himself on the record in a single sentence: "It is my opinion that it is not the judgment of this country, or that of the Senate, that the Government of the United States should run the hazard of a war for Oregon, by renouncing as no longer fit for consideration, the proposition of adjustment made by the Government thirty years ago, and repeated in the face of the world."

Calhoun, than whom no Senator was more influential, urged continued peaceful methods. He said: "A question of greater moment never has been presented to Congress." Others counseled a continuance of things as they were and letting immigration after the bold Whitman plan settle it.

Suffice it here to say that both Nations, after the wide discussion and threats, saw war as a costly experiment. In the last of April the terms of treaty were agreed upon, and on July 17th, 1846, both Governments had signed a treaty fixing the boundary line at forty-nine degrees.

Now here again comes in the timeliness of Whitman's memorable ride. It had taken every day of exciting contest in Congress since that event, up to April, 1846, to agree upon the boundary and for America to get her Oregon. On the 13th day of May, 1846, Congress declared war against Mexico, and California was at stake. Suppose England could have foreseen that event, would she not have declared in favor of a longer wait? Who that knows England does not know that she would? With England still holding to her rights in Oregon how easy it would have been to take sides with Mexico and to have helped her hold California.

But we won not only California and New Mexico, but won riches. In the year 1848 gold was discovered in California. And now suppose England could have foreseen that, as she would have known it had she prolonged the negotiations, would she ever have signed away any possessions like that rolled in gold? When did the great and powerful Kingdom of Great Britain ever do anything of the kind?

It would not have done for Whitman to have waited for next year and warm weather as his friends demanded. "I must go," and "now," and at this day it is easy to see from the light of history how God rules in the minds and hearts of men, as he rules nations. They, as men and nations, turn aside from His commands, but a man like Marcus Whitman obeys.

Go still farther. From the time gold was discovered in California up to the outbreak of the War of the Rebellion, nine hundred millions of gold were dug from the mines of California and Oregon. Where did it go? The great bulk of it went into storehouses and manufactories and vaults of the North. The South was sparsely represented in California and Oregon in the early days. We repeat that when the war broke out, the great bulk of the yellow metal was behind the Union army. Who don't recognize that it was a great power? Even more than that, it was a controlling power. The Nation was to be tried as never before. Human slavery was the prize for which the South contended, while human freedom soon asserted itself, despite all opposition, as a contending force in the North. But the wisest were in doubt as to results. They could not see how it was possible that "the sum of all villainies" could be obliterated. In the East and the North and the West, the boys in blue flocked to the standard, and bayonets gleamed everywhere. The plow was left in the furrow, and the hum of the machine shop was not heard. The fires in the furnaces and forges went out, and multitudes were in despair over the mighty struggle at hand. The Union might have been saved without the wealth of gold of California and Oregon; it might have proved victorious, even if the two great loyal States of the Pacific had been in the hands of strangers or enemies, but they were behind the loyal Union army. And the men marched and fought and sung—

"In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea,

With a glory in his bosom, that transfigures you and me;

As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,

While God is marching on,"

as they marched, leaving graves upon every mountain side and in every valley. Appomattox was reached, and lo, the chains dropped from the limbs of six million slaves, and "The flag of beauty and glory" floated from Lake to Gulf and from Ocean to Ocean, in truth as in song—

"O'er the land of the free,

And the home of the brave."

WHITMAN COLLEGE, WALLA WALLA, WASHINGTON.

Again, older readers will remember with what fear and trembling they opened their morning papers for many months, fearing to read that England had accorded "belligerent rights" to the Confederacy. They will have a vivid recollection of the eloquent orator, Henry Ward Beecher, as he plead, as no other man could, the cause of the Union in English cities. He was backed up by old John Bright, the descendants of Penn, Gurney and Wilberforce, and the old-time enemies of human slavery. But it took them all to stem the tide. At one time it even seemed that they had won over Gladstone to their interests.

While the great masses of the English people were in sympathy with the Union cause, the moneyed men and commerce sided with the Confederacy: "Cotton was King." They had been struck in a tender place—their pockets and bank accounts. But suppose England had owned Oregon and its great interests, who don't see that all the danger would have been multiplied, and our interests endangered? There is in this no extravagant claim made that all this was done by Marcus Whitman. The Ruler of the Universe uses men, not a man, for its direction and government.

Going back upon the pages of history, the student sees Whittier in his study, and listens to his singing; he sees Mrs. Stowe educating with Uncle Tom in his cabin; he notes Garrison forging thunderbolts in his Liberator; he sees old Gamaliel Bailey with his National Era; he sees Sumner fall by a bludgeon in the Senate; he hears the eloquent thunderings of Hale and bluff old Ben Wade and Giddings and Julian and Chase; he sees Lovejoy fall by the hands of his assassin; he hears the guns of the old "fanatic" John Brown, as he began "marching on;" he sees a great army marshaled for the contest which led up to the election of the "Martyr President," and the crowning victories which redeemed the grandest nation upon which the sun shines from the curse of human slavery. Giving due credit to all, detracting no single honor from any one in all the distinguished galaxy of honored names, and yet the thoughtful student can reach but one conclusion, and that is, that in the timeliness of his acts, in the heroism with which they were carried out, in the unselfishness which marked every step of the way, and in the wide-reaching effects of his work, Dr. Marcus Whitman, as a man and patriot and national benefactor, was excelled by none.

Such unselfish devotion, such obedience to the call of duty, such love of "the flag that makes you free," such heroism, which never even once had an outcropping of personal benefit, will forever stand, when fully understood, as among the brightest and most inspiring pages of American history.

The young American loves to read of Paul Revere. He dwells with thrilling interest upon the ride of the boy Archie Gillespie, who saw the great dam breaking, and at the risk of his life rode down the valley of the Conemaugh to Johnstown, shouting, "Flee for your lives, the flood, the flood!" The people fled and two minutes behind the boy rolled the mighty flood of annihilation. How painter, and poet, and patriot, lingers over the ride of the gallant Sheridan "from Winchester, twenty miles away." All the honor is deserved; he saved an army and turned a defeat into victory.

But how do all these compare with the ride of Whitman? It, too, was a ride for life or death. Over snow-capped mountains, along ravines, traveled only by savage beasts and savage men. It was a plunge through icy rivers, tired, hungry, cold, and yet he rode on and on, until he stood before the President, four thousand miles away! Let us hope and believe that the time will come when Whitman, standing before President Tyler and Secretary Webster, in his buckskin breeches and a dress as we have shown, which was never woven in loom, will be the subject of some great painting. It would be grandly historical and tell a story that a patriotic people should never forget.

Alice Wellington Rollins wrote the following poem, which was published in the New York Independent, and widely copied. The Cassell Publishing Company made it one of their gems in their elegant volume, "Representative Poems of Living Poets," and kindly consent to its use in this volume:

WHITMAN'S RIDE.

Listen, my children, and you shall hear

Of a hero's ride that saved a State.

A midnight ride? Nay, child, for a year

He rode with a message that could not wait.

Eighteen hundred and forty-two;

No railroad then had gone crashing through

To the Western coast; not a telegraph wire

Had guided there the electric fire;

But a fire burned in one strong man's breast

For a beacon light. You shall hear the rest.

He said to his wife; "At the Fort to-day,

At Walla Walla, I heard them say

That a hundred British men had crossed

The mountains; and one young, ardent priest

Shouted, 'Hurrah for Oregon!

The Yankees are late by a year at least!'

They must know this at once at Washington.

Another year, and all would be lost.

Someone must ride, to give the alarm

Across the Continent; untold harm

In an hour's delay, and only I

Can make them understand how or why

The United States must keep Oregon!"

Twenty-four hours he stopped to think,

To think! Nay then, if he thought at all,

He thought as he tightened his saddle-girth.

One tried companion, who would not shrink

From the worst to come, with a mule or two

To carry arms and supplies, would do.

With a guide as far as Fort Bent. And she,

The woman of proud, heroic worth,

Who must part from him, if she wept at all,

Wept as she gathered whatever he

Might need for the outfit on his way.

Fame for the man who rode that day

Into the wilds at his Country's call;

And for her who waited for him a year

On that wild Pacific coast, a tear!

Then he said "Good-bye!" and with firm-set lips

Silently rode from his cabin door

Just as the sun rose over the tips

Of the phantom mountain that loomed before

The woman there in the cabin door,

With a dread at her heart she had not known

When she, with him, had dared to cross

The Great Divide. None better than she

Knew what the terrible ride would cost

As he rode, and she waited, each alone.

Whether all were gained or all were lost,

No message of either gain or loss

Could reach her; never a greeting stir

Her heart with sorrow or gladness; he

In another year would come back to her

If all went well; and if all went ill—

Ah, God! could even her courage still

The pain at her heart? If the blinding snow

Were his winding-sheet, she would never know;

If the Indian arrow pierced his side,

She would never know where he lay and died;

If the icy mountain torrents drowned

His cry for help, she would hear no sound!

Nay, none would hear, save God, who knew

What she had to bear, and he had to do.

The clattering hoof-beats died away

On the Walla Walla. Ah! had she known

They would echo in history still to-day

As they echoed then from her heart of stone!

He had left the valley. The mountains mock

His coming. Behind him, broad and deep,

The Columbia meets the Pacific tides;

Before him—four thousand miles before—

Four thousand miles from his cabin door,

The Potomac meets the Atlantic. On

Over the trail grown rough and steep,

Now soft on the snow, now loud on the rock,

Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

The United States must keep Oregon.

It was October when he left

The Walla Walla, though little heed

Paid he to the season. Nay, indeed,

In the lonely canyons just ahead,

Little mattered it what the almanac said.

He heard the coyotes bark; but they

Are harmless creatures. No need to fear

A deadly rattlesnake coiled too near.

No rattlesnake ever was so bereft

Of sense as to creep out such a day

In the frost. Nay, scarce would a grizzly care

For a sniff at him. Only a man would dare

The bitter cold, in whose heart and brain

Burned the quenchless flame of a great desire;

A man with nothing himself to gain

From success, but whose heart-blood kept its fire

While with freezing face he rode on and on.

The United States must keep Oregon.

It was November when they came

To the icy stream. Would he hesitate?

Not he, the man who carried a State

At his saddle bow. They have made the leap;

Horse and rider have plunged below

The icy current that could not tame

Their proud life-current's fiercer flow.

They swim for it, reach it, clutch the shore,

Climb the river bank, cold and steep,

Mount, and ride the rest of that day,

Cased in an armor close and fine

As ever an ancient warrior wore;

Armor of ice that dared to shine

Back at a sunbeam's dazzling ray,

Fearless as plated steel of old

Before that slender lance of gold.

It is December as they ride

Slowly across the Great Divide;

The blinding storm turns day to night,

And clogs their feet; the snowflakes roll

The winding sheet about them; sight

Is darkened; faint the despairing soul.

No trail before or behind them. Spur

His horse? Nay, child, it were death to stir!

Motionless horse and rider stand,

Turning to stone; till one poor mule,

Pricking his ears as if to say

If they gave him rein he would find the way,

Found it and led them back, poor fool,

To last night's camp in that lonely land.

It was February when he rode

Into St. Louis. The gaping crowd

Gathered about him with questions loud

And eager. He raised one frozen hand

With a gesture of silent, proud command;

"I am here to ask, not answer! Tell

Me quick, is the Treaty signed?" "Why yes!

In August, six months ago or less!"

Six months ago! Two months before

The gay young priest at the fortress showed

The English hand! Two months before,

Four months ago at his cabin door,

He had saddled his horse! Too late then. "Well,

But Oregon? Have they signed the State

Away?" "Of course not. Nobody cares

About Oregon." He in silence bares

His head. "Thank God! I am not too late."

It was March when he rode at last

Into the streets of Washington.

The warning questions came thick and fast;

"Do you know that the British will colonize,

If you wait another year, Oregon

And the Northwest, thirty-six times the size

Of Massachusetts?" A courteous stare,

And the Government murmurs: "Ah, indeed!

Pray, why do you think that we should care?

With Indian arrows and mountain snow

Between us, we never can colonize

The wild Northwest from the East you know,

If you doubt it, why, we will let you read

The London Examiner; proofs enough

The Northwest is worth just a pinch of snuff."

And the Board of Missions that sent him out,

Gazed at the worn and weary man

With stern displeasure. "Pray, sir, who

Gave you orders to undertake

This journey hither, or to incur

Without due cause, such great expense

To the Board? Do you suppose we can

Overlook so grave an offense?

And the Indian converts? What about

The little flock, for whose precious sake

We sent you West? Can it be that you

Left them without a shepherd? Most

Extraordinary conduct, sir,

Thus to desert your chosen post."

Ah, well! What mattered it! He had dared

A hundred deaths, in his eager pride,

To bring to his Country at Washington

A message, for which, then, no one cared!

But Whitman could act as well as ride.

The United States must keep the Northwest.

He—whatever might say the rest—

Cared, and would colonize Oregon!

It was October, forty-two,

When the clattering hoof-beats died away

On the Walla Walla, that fateful day.

It was September, forty-three—

Little less than a year, you see—

When the woman who waited thought she heard

The clatter of foot-beats that she knew

On the Walla Walla again. "What word

From Whitman?" Whitman himself! And see!

What do her glad eyes look upon?

The first of two hundred wagons rolls

Into the valley before her. He

Who, a year ago, had left her side,

Had brought them over the Great Divide—

Men, women and children, a thousand souls—

The army to occupy Oregon.

You know the rest. In the books you have read

That the British were not a year ahead.

The United States have kept Oregon,

Because of one Marcus Whitman. He

Rode eight thousand miles, and was not too late!

In a single hand, not a Nation's fate,

Perhaps; but a gift for the Nation, she

Would hardly part with it to-day, if we

May believe what the papers say upon

This great Northwest, that was Oregon.


And Whitman? Ah! my children, he

And his wife sleep now in a martyr's grave!

Murdered! Murdered, both he and she,

By the Indian souls they went West to save!

CHAPTER IX.


THE CHANGE IN PUBLIC SENTIMENT.


The reader of history seldom sees a more notable instance of a changed public sentiment, than he can find in the authentic records dating from March, 1843, to July, 1846. If the epitome sketch made in another chapter has been studied the conditions now to be observed are phenomenal. Statesman after statesman puts himself on record. You hear no more of "No wagon road to Oregon," "That weary, desert road," those "Impassable mountains;" nor does Mr. McDuffie jump up to "Thank God for His mercy, for the impassable barrier of the Rocky Mountains." No Mr. Benton arises and asks that "The statue of the fabled God Terminus should be erected on the highest peak, never to be thrown down." Nor does Mr. Jackson appeal for "A compact Government."

Before the man clothed in buckskin left the National Capital, a message was on the way to our Minister to England proclaiming "The United States will consent to give nothing below the latitude of forty-nine degrees." When it was known that a great caravan of two hundred wagons and one thousand Americans had started for Oregon, a second message went to Minister Everett still more pointed and positive, "The United States will never consent that the boundary line to the Pacific Ocean shall move one foot below the latitude of forty-nine degrees." It is a historical fact that one hundred and twenty-five of the wagons went through.

The whole people began to talk, as well as to think and act. They had suddenly waked up to a great peril, and were casting about how to meet it. A political party painted upon its banners, "Oregon, fifty-four forty, or fight." Multitudes of those now living remember this great uprising of the people. How was it done? Who did it? Was it a spontaneous move without a reason? Intelligent readers can scan the facts of history and judge for themselves. But it is an historical fact there was a remarkably sudden change.

President Tyler, and his great Secretary, Webster, during the balance of his administration, used all the arts of diplomacy, and seemed to make but little progress, except a promise of a Minister Plenipotentiary to treat with the United States. At any time prior to the arrival of Marcus Whitman in Washington, or any time during the conference upon the Ashburton Treaty, had the English diplomats proposed to run the boundary line upon forty-nine degrees until it struck the Columbia River, and down that river to the ocean, there is multiplied evidence that the United States would have accepted it at once.

But England did not want a part, she wanted all. During the negotiations in 1827 as to the renewal of the Treaty of 1818, her commissioners stated the case diplomatically, thus: "Great Britain claims no exclusive sovereignty over any portion of that territory. Her present claim is not in respect to any part, but to the whole and is limited to a right of joint occupancy in common with other States, leaving the right of exclusive dominion in abeyance."

Some have urged that this was a give-away and a quit claim on the part of England, but at most, it is only the language of diplomacy, to be interpreted by the acts of the party in contest. Those who met and know the men in power in Oregon in those pioneer days, can fully attest the assertion of the Edinburgh Review in an article published in 1843, after Whitman's visit to Washington. It says: "They are chiefly Scotchmen, and a greater proportion of shrewdness, daring and commercial activity is probably not to be found in the same number of heads in the world." They made their grand mistake, however, that while being true Britons, they were Hudson Bay Company men first and foremost, and were anxious to keep out all immigration. None better knew the value of Oregon lands for the purposes of the agriculturist, than those "shrewd old Scotchmen" did.

About every trading post they had cleared farms, planted orchards and vineyards, and tested all kinds of grains. Mrs. Whitman, in her diary of September 14th, 1836, speaking of her visit to Fort Vancouver, says, "We were invited to see the farm. We rode for fifteen miles during the afternoon and visited the farms and stock, etc. They estimate their wheat crop this year at four thousand bushels, peas the same, oats and barley fifteen and seventeen hundred bushels each. The potato and turnip fields are large and fine. Their cattle are large and fine and estimated at one thousand head. They have swine in abundance, also sheep and goats, but the sheep are of an inferior quality. We also find hens, turkeys and pigeons, but no geese. Every day we have something new. The store-houses are filled from top to bottom with unbroken bales of goods, made up of every article of comfort."

She tells of "A new and improved method of raising cream" for butter-making, and "The abundant supply of the best cheese."

In another note she gives the menu for dinner. "First, we are treated to soup, which is very good, made of all kinds of vegetables, with a little rice. Tomatoes are a prominent vegetable. After soup the dishes are removed and roast duck, pork, tripe, fish, salmon or sturgeon, with other things too tedious to mention. When these are removed a rice pudding or apple pie is served with musk melons, cheese, biscuits and wine."

Shrewd Scotsmen! And yet this is the country which for years thereafter American statesmen declared "A desert waste," "Unfit for the habitation of civilized society," and from which our orators thanked Heaven they were "separated by insurmountable barriers of mountains," and "impassable deserts." We repeat, none better knew the value of Oregon soil for the purposes of agriculture, than did these princely retainers of England, and they well knew, that when agriculture and civilization gained a foothold, both they and their savage retainers would be compelled to move on. They held a bonanza of wealth in their hands, in a land of Arcadia, which they ruled to suit themselves.

It is not at all strange that they made the fight they did; they had in 1836 feared the advent of Dr. Whitman's old wagon, more than an army with banners. They had tried in every way in their power, except by absolute force, to arrest its progress. They foresaw that every turn of its wheels upon Oregon soil endangered fur. Those in command at Fort Hall and Fort Boise were warned to be more watchful. The consequence was that not another wheel was permitted to go beyond those forts, from 1836 to 1843. Dr. Edwards, however, reports that "Dr. Robert Newell brought three wagons through to Walla Walla in 1840."

But the fact remains that wagon after wagon was abandoned at those points and the things necessary for the comfort of the immigrant were sacrificed, and men, women and children were compelled to take to the pack-saddle, or journey the balance of the weary way on foot. Great stress was laid at these points of entrance, upon the dangers of the route to Oregon, and the comparative ease and comfort of the journey to California. Hundreds were thus induced to give up the journey to Oregon, in making which they would be forced to abandon their wagons and goods, and they turned their faces toward California.

General Palmer, in speaking of this, says: "While at Fort Hall in 1842, the perils of the way to Oregon were so magnified as to make us suppose the journey thither was impossible. They represented the dangers in passing over Snake River and the Columbia as very great. That but little stock had ever crossed those streams in safety. And more and worst of all, they represented that three or four tribes of Indians along the route had combined to resist all immigration." They represented that, "Famine and the snows of Winter would overtake all with destruction, before they could reach Oregon."

They did succeed in scaring this band of one hundred and thirty-seven men, women and children in 1842 into leaving all their wagons behind, but they went on to Oregon on pack-saddles.

In the meantime they ran a literary bureau for all it was worth, in the disparagement of Oregon for all purposes except those of the fur trader. The English press was mainly depended upon for this work, but the best means in reach were used that all these statements should reach the ruling powers and reading people of the United States.

The effect of this literary bureau upon American statesmen and the most intelligent class of readers prior to the Spring of 1843, is easily seen by the sentiments quoted, and by their published acts, in refusing to legislate for Oregon. Modern historians have said that, "The Hudson Bay Company and the English never at any time claimed anything south of the Columbia River." Such a statement can nowhere be proved from any official record; on the contrary, there are multiplied expressions and acts proving the opposite.

As early as the year 1828, the Hudson Bay Company saw the value of the Falls of the Willamette at Oregon City for manufacturing purposes, and took possession of the same; as Governor Simpson in command of the Company said, "To establish a British Colony of their retired servants." "Governor Simpson," says Dr. Eells in his "History of Indian Missions," "said in 1841 that the colonists in the Willamette Valley were British subjects, and that the English had no rivals on the coast but Russia, and that the United States will never possess more than a nominal jurisdiction, nor will long possess even that, on the west side of the Rocky Mountains." And he added, "Supposing the country to be divided to-morrow to the entire satisfaction of the most unscrupulous patriot in the Union, I challenge conquest to bring my prediction and its own power to the test by imposing the Atlantic tariff on the ports of the Pacific."

Such sentiments from the Governor, the man then in supreme power, who moulded and directed English sentiments, is of deep significance. A man only second in influence to Governor Simpson and even a much broader and brainier man, Dr. John McLoughlin, Factor of the Company, "said to me in 1842," says Dr. Eells, "that in fifty years the whole country will be filled with the descendants of the Hudson Bay Company." But while they believed, just as the American immigrants did, that as a result of the Treaty of 1818-28, the country would belong to the nationality settling it; yet they had so long held supreme power that they were slow to think that such power was soon to pass from them.

That the diplomacy of the home Government, the bold methods and "The shrewdness, daring and commercial activity in the heads" of the Rulers, that the Edinburgh Review pictures, were all to be thwarted and that speedily, had not entered into their calculations, and they did not awake to a sense of the real danger until those hundred and twenty-five wagons, loaded with live Americans and their household goods, rolled down the mountain sides and into the Valley of the Willamette on that memorable October day, 1843.

It was America's protest, made in an American fashion. It settled the question of American interests as far as Americans could settle it under the terms of the Treaty of 1818, as they understood it.

Under the full belief that Whitman would bring with him a large delegation, the Americans met and organized before he reached Oregon. And when the Whitman caravan arrived, they outnumbered the English and Canadian forces three to one; and the Stars and Stripes were run up, never again to be hauled down by any foreign power in all the wide domain of Oregon.

True, there was yet a battle to be fought. The interests at stake were too grand for the party who held supreme power so long to yield without a contest. But there were rugged, brave, intelligent American citizens now in Oregon, and there to stay. They had flooded home people with letters describing the salubrity of the climate and the fertility of the soil. Statesmen heard of it.

Sudden conversions sometimes make unreasonable converts. The very men who had rung the changes upon "worthless," "barren," "cut off by impassable deserts," now turned and not only claimed the legitimate territory up to forty-nine degrees, but made demands which were heard across the Atlantic. We will have "Oregon and fifty-four forty, or fight."

In a lengthy message in December, 1845, President Polk devotes nearly one-fifth of his space to the discussion of the Oregon question, and rehearses the discussion pro and con between the two governments and acknowledges, that thus far there has been absolute failure. He tells Congress that "The proposition of compromise, which was made and rejected, was, by my order, subsequently withdrawn, and our title up to 54 degrees 40 minutes asserted, and, as it is believed, maintained by irrefragable facts and arguments." In that message, President Polk argued in favor of terminating the joint occupancy by giving the stipulated notice, and that the jurisdiction of the United States be extended over the entire territory, with a line of military posts along the entire frontier to the Pacific.

It all seemed warlike. The withdrawing of "the joint occupancy," many statesmen believed would precipitate a war. Senator Crittenden and others believed such to be the case. War seemed inevitable. Even Senator McDuffie, whom we have before quoted, as unwilling to "Give a pinch of snuff for all the territory beyond the Rockies," now is on record saying, "Rather make that territory the grave of Americans, and color the soil with their blood, than to surrender one inch." While it was generally conceded that we would have a war, yet there were wise, cool-headed men in the Halls of National Legislation, determined to avert such disaster if possible, without sacrificing National honor.

The debate on giving legal notice to cancel the Treaty of 1818, as to joint occupancy, was the absorbing theme of Congress, and lasted for forty days before reaching a vote, and then passed by the great majority of 109.

But the Senate was more conservative, and continued the debate after the measure had passed the House by such an overwhelming majority. They saw the whole Country already in a half paralyzed condition. Its business had decreased, its capital was withdrawn from active participation in business, and its vessels stood empty at the wharves of ports of entry. Such statesmen as Crittenden and others who had not hurried to get in front of the excited people, now saw the necessity for decided action to avert war and secure peace. To brave public opinion and antagonize the Lower House of Congress required the largest courage.

Mr. Crittenden said, "I believe yet, a majority is still in favor of preserving the peace, if it can be done without dishonor. They favor the settling of the questions in dispute peaceably and honorably, to compromise by negotiations and arbitration, or some other mode known and recognized among nations as suitable and proper and honorable."

Mr. Webster had been too severely chastised by both friends and enemies for his part in the Ashburton Treaty, to make him anxious to be prominent in the discussion in the earlier weeks, but when he did speak he pointed out the very road which the Nation would travel in its way for peace, viz.: a compromise upon latitude forty-nine.

Webster said, "In my opinion it is not the judgment of this country, nor the judgment of the Senate, that the Government of the United States should run the hazard of a war for Oregon by renouncing, as no longer fit for consideration, the proposition of adjustment made by this Government thirty years ago and repeated in the face of the world." His great speech, which extended through the sessions of two days, was a masterly defense and explanation of the Ashburton-Webster Treaty, which was signed three years before.

No American statesman of the time had so full and complete a knowledge of the questions at issue as had Webster. He had canvassed every one of them in all their bearings with the shrewdest English diplomats and had nothing to learn. His great speech can be marked as the turning point in the discussion, and the friends of peace took fresh courage.

The first and ablest aid Mr. Webster received was from Calhoun, then second to none in his influence. In his speech he said, "What has transpired here and in England within the last three months must, I think, show that the public opinion in both countries is coming to a conclusion that this controversy ought to be settled, and is not very diverse in the one country or the other, as to the general basis of such settlement. That basis is the offer made by the United States to England in 1826."

It may here be observed that President Monroe offered to compromise on forty-nine degrees. President Adams did the same in 1826, while President Tyler, in the year of Whitman's visit (1843), again offered the same compromise, and England had rejected each and all. She expected a much larger slice.

Gen. Cass followed Calhoun in a fiery war speech, which called out the applause of the multitude, in which he claimed that the United States owned the territory up to the Russian line of 54 degrees 40 minutes and he "Would press the claim at the peril of war."

Dayton and other Senators asked that present conditions be maintained, and that "The people of the United States meet Great Britain by a practical adoption of her own doctrine, that the title of the country should pass to those who occupied it."

This latter view was the pioneer view of the situation, and which was so fully believed as to cause the memorable ride of Whitman in mid-winter from Oregon to Washington. The resolution of notice to the English Government, as we have seen, passed the House Feb. 9, 1846, and came to a vote and passed the Senate April 23d, by 42 to 10. It, however, contained two important amendments to the House resolution, both suggestive of compromise. And as the President was allowed "At his discretion to serve the notice," the act was shorn of much of its warlike meaning.

When it is remembered that the President's message and recommendations were made on the 2d of December, 1845, and the question had absorbed the attention of Congress until April 23, 1846, before final action, it can be marked as one of the most memorable discussions that has ever occurred in our Halls of National Legislation.

It had now been three years since Whitman had made his protest to President Tyler and his Secretary; and while Congress had debated and the whole Nation was at a white heat of interest, the old pioneers had gone on settling the question in their own way by taking possession of the land, building themselves homes, erecting a State House, and, although four thousand miles distant from the National Capital, enacting laws, in keeping with American teachings, and demeaning themselves as became good citizens. Love of country, with sacrifices made to do honor to the flag, has seldom had a more beautiful and impressive illustration than that given by the old pioneers of Oregon during the years of their neglect by the home Government, which even seemed so far distant that it had lost all interest in their welfare.

CHAPTER X.


THE FAILURE OF MODERN HISTORY TO DO JUSTICE TO DR. WHITMAN.


Says an old author: "History is a river increasing in volume with every mile of its length, and the tributaries that join it nearer and nearer the sea are taken up and swept onward by a current that grows ever mightier." Napoleon said: "History is a fable agreed upon." If Napoleon could have looked downward to the closing years of this century and seen the genius of the literary world striving to do him honor, he would perhaps have modified the sentiment.

History, at its best, is a collection of biographies of the world's great leaders, and is best studied in biography. To be of value, it must be accurate. Scarcely has any great leader escaped from the stings of history, but it is well to know and believe that time will correct the wrong. The case of Dr. Whitman is peculiar in the fact that all his contemporaries united in doing him honor, save and except one, Bishop Brouillet. The men who knew the value of his work and his eminent services, such as Gray, Reed, Simpson, Barrows, and Parkman; the correspondence of Spalding, Lovejoy, Eells, and the Lees, have made the record clear.

It has been reserved for modern historians of that class who have just discovered the "Mistakes of Moses," and that Shakespeare never wrote Shakespeare's plays, to indulge in sneers and scoffs and to falsify the record. It is not the intention to attempt to reply to all these, but we shall notice the fallacies of two or three. In a recent edition of the history of the Lewis and Clarke Expedition, published by F. P. Harper, New York, and edited by Dr. Elliott Coues, a most entertaining volume, and yet wholly misleading as to the final issue which resulted in Oregon becoming a part of the Republic, Dr. Coues in his dedication of the volume says:

"To the people of the great West: Jefferson gave you the country. Lewis and Clarke showed you the way. The rest is your own course of empire. Honor the statesman who foresaw your West. Honor the brave men who first saw your West. May the memory of their glorious achievement be your precious heritage. Accept from my heart this undying record of the beginning of all your greatness.

ELLIOTT COUES."

All honor to Jefferson, the far-sighted statesman; and a like honor to the courageous explorers, Lewis and Clarke; but the writer of history should be true to facts. Lewis and Clarke were not "The first men who saw your West." They were not the discoverers of Oregon. Old Captain Gray did that a dozen years prior to the visit of Lewis and Clarke. A writer of true history should not have blinded his eyes to that fact on his dedicatory page. Captain Gray sailed into the mouth of the Columbia River on his good ship Columbia, from Boston, on May 7th, 1792. The great river was named for his vessel. This, together with the title gained by the Louisiana purchase in 1803, and the treaty with Spain and Mexico, more fully recited in another chapter, made the claim of the United States to ownership in the soil of Oregon.

The mission of Lewis and Clarke was not that of discoverers, but to spy out and report upon the value of the discovery already made. Their work required rare courage, and was accomplished with such intelligence as to make them heroes, and both were rewarded with fat offices; one as the Governor of Louisiana, and the other as General Commissioner of Indian Affairs; and both were given large land grants. We have not been able to see in any of Dr. Coues' full notes any explanation of such facts, but even if he has given such explanation, he had no right, as a truthful chronicler of history, to mislead the reader by his highly ornate dedicatory: "Jefferson gave you the country, Lewis and Clarke showed you the way."

President Jefferson was much more of a seer and statesman than were his compeers. The Louisiana purchase, to him, was much more than gaining possession of the State at the mouth of the Mississippi River, with its rich acres for the use of slave-owners of the South. In his later years he said: "I looked forward with gratification to the time when the descendants of the settlers of Oregon would spread themselves through the whole length of the coast, covering it with free, independent Americans, unconnected with us but by the ties of blood and interest, and enjoying, like us, the rights of self-government."

If the old statesman could view the scene and the condition now, how much grander would be the view! It would be unjust to question the interest of President Jefferson in the Northwest Territory; the great misfortune was, that the statesmen of his day were almost wholly oblivious to his appeals. The report made by the Lewis and Clarke expedition was stuffed into a pigeon hole, and was not even published until eight years after the exploration, and after one of the explorers was dead. It was not received with a single ripple of enthusiasm by Congress or the people of the Nation. The Government, on the contrary, fourteen years after the advent of Lewis and Clarke in Oregon, entered into a treaty with England, which virtually gave the English people the control of the entire country for more than the first third of the century. The most that can be said of Lewis and Clarke is that they were faithful explorers, who blazed the way which Americans failed to travel, until, in the fullness of time, a man appeared who led the way and millions followed.

Among the most pointed defamers of Dr. Whitman is Mrs. Frances F. Victor, of Oregon, author of "The River of the West," who seldom loses an opportunity to attempt to belittle the man and his work. In a communication to the Chicago Inter Ocean, she openly charges that his journey to Washington in the winter of 1842 and '43 was wholly for selfish interests. She charges that he was about to be removed from his Mission and wanted to present his case before the American Board. That he wanted his Mission as "A stopping place for immigrants." In other words, it was for personal and pecuniary gain that he made the perilous ride. We quote her exact language:

"That there was considerable practical self-interest in his desire to be left to manage the Mission as he thought best, there can be no question. It was not for the Indians, altogether, he wished to remain. He foresaw the wealth and importance of the country and that his place must become a supply station to the annual emigrations. Instead of making high-comedy speeches to the President and Secretary of State, he talked with them about the Indians, and what would, in his opinion, be the best thing to be done for them and for the white settlers. His visit was owing to the necessity that existed of explaining to the Board better than he could by letter, and more quickly, his reasons for wishing to remain at his station, and to convince them it was for the best." Says Mrs. Victor: "The Missionaries all believed that the United States would finally secure a title to at least that portion of Oregon south of the Columbia River, out of whose rich lands they would be given large tracts by the Government, and that was reason enough for the loyalty exhibited."

She openly charges that "Dr. Whitman acted deceitfully toward all the other members of the Mission." If such were true, is it not strange that in all the years that followed every man and woman among them were his staunchest and truest friends and most valiant defenders? She proceeds to call Whitman "Ignorant and conceited to believe that he influenced Secretary Webster." That the story of his suffering, frost-bitten condition was false. "He was not frost-bitten, or he would have been incapacitated to travel," etc. Mrs. Victor makes a grave charge against Whitman. She says: "He got well-to-do by selling flour and grain and vegetables to immigrants at high prices." Now, let us allow Dr. Spalding to answer this calumny. He knew Whitman and his work as well, or better than any other man. Dr. Spalding says:

"Immigrants, by hundreds and thousands, reached the Mission, way-worn, hungry, sick, and destitute, but he cared for all. Seven children of one family were left upon the hands of Dr. and Mrs. Whitman—one a babe four months old—and they cared for them all, giving food, clothing, and medicine without pay. Frequently, the Doctor would give away his entire food supply, and have to send to me for grain to get through the Winter."

She pointedly denies that Dr. Whitman went to Washington or the States with the expectation of bringing out settlers to Oregon.

The letters recently published by the State Historical Society of Oregon, quoted in another chapter, were written by Dr. Whitman the year following his famous journey. In them he clearly reveals the reasons for the ride to Washington. The reader can believe Dr. Whitman or believe Mrs. Victor, but both cannot be believed.

In addition to these letters, we have the clear testimony of General Lovejoy, who went with him; of Rev. Mr. Spalding, of Elkanah Walker, Dr. Gray, Rev. Cushing Eells, P. B. Whitman, who accompanied him on his return trip; Mr. Hinman, Dr. S. J. Parker, of Ithaca, N. Y., and the Rev. William Barrows, who had frequent conversations with him in St. Louis. In an interview with Dr. William Geiger, published in the New York Sun, January 17th, 1885, he says: "I was at Fort Walla Walla, and associated directly with Dr. Whitman when he started East to save Oregon. I was there when he returned, and I am, perhaps, the only living person who distinctly recollects all the facts. He left, not to go to St. Louis or to Boston, but for the distinct purpose of going to Washington to save Oregon; and yet he had to be very discreet about it."

Will the honest reader of history reject such testimony as worthless, and mark that of these modern skeptics valuable?

Mrs. Victor's charges, that selfishness and personal aggrandizement accounted for all the sacrifices made by Whitman, are preposterous in the light of testimony, and made utterly untenable by the environments of the Missionary. There was no time in all the years that Dr. and Mrs. Whitman lived in Oregon that they could not have packed all their worldly goods upon the backs of two mules. The American Board made no bribe of money to the men and women they sent out to Oregon and elsewhere. If the great farm he opened at Waiilatpui, and the buildings he erected by his patient toil, had grown to be worth a million, it would not have added a single dollar to Whitman's wealth. Even the physician's fees given him by grateful sufferers, under the rules of the Board, were reported and counted as a part of his meager salary.

The idea that a man should leave wife and home, and endure the perils of a mid-winter journey to the States, to persuade Congress "To buy sheep" and "make his Mission a stopping place," or the American Board to allow him to work sixteen hours a day for the Cayuse Indians, is a heavy task on credulity, and is so far-fetched as to make Whitman's maligners only ridiculous.

But it is Hubert Howe Bancroft, the author of the thirty-eight volume History of the Pacific States, who is the offender-in-chief. As a collector and historian, Bancroft necessarily required many co-workers. It was in his failure to get them into harmony and tell the straight connected truth, in which he made his stupendous blunders. Chapter is arrayed against chapter, and volume against volume. One tells history, and another denies it. In Volume I, page 379, he refers to the incident, already fully recited in another chapter, of the visit of the Flathead Indians to St. Louis, and does not once doubt its historic accuracy; but in Volume XXIII, another of his literary army works up the same historic incident, and says:

"The Presbyterians were never very expert in improvising Providences. Therefore, when Gray, the great Untruthful, and whilom Christian Mission builder, undertakes to appropriate to the Unseen Powers of his sect the sending of four native delegates to St. Louis in 1832, begging saviors for transmontain castaways, it is, as most of Gray's affairs are, a failure. The Catholics manage such things better."

On page 584, Volume I, "Chronicles of the Builders," Mr. Bancroft says: "The Missionaries and Pioneers of Oregon did much to assure the country to the United States. Had there been no movement of the kind, England would have extended her claim over the whole territory, with a fair prospect of making it her own."

In another place says Mr. Bancroft: "The Missionary, Dr. Whitman, was no ordinary man. I do not know which to admire most in him, his coolness or his courage. His nerves were of steel, his patience was excelled only by his fearlessness. In the mighty calm of his nature he was a Caesar for Christ."

In the same volume another of his literary co-workers proceeds to glorify John Jacob Astor, and to give him all the honors for saving Oregon to the Union. Mr. Bancroft says:

"The American flag was raised none too soon at Fort Astoria to secure the great Oregon country to the United States, for already the men of Montreal were hastening thither to seize the prize; but they were too late. It is safe to say that had not Mr. Astor moved in this matter as he did, had his plans been frustrated or his purposes delayed, the northern boundary of the United States might to-day be the 42d parallel of latitude. Thus we see the momentous significance of the movement."

The author proceeds to picture Astor and make him the hero in saving Oregon. In another chapter we have given the full force and effect of Mr. Astor's settlement at Astoria. A careful reading will only show the exaggerated importance of the act, when compared with other acts which the historian only passes with a sneer or in silence. John Jacob Astor was in Oregon to make money and for no other purpose.

In Volume I, page 579, "Chronicle of the Builders," Mr. Bancroft allows Mrs. Victor, his authority, to dip her pen deep in slander. He refers to both the Methodist Missions on the Willamette and the Congregational and Presbyterian Missions of the Walla Walla, and writes:

"But missionary work did not pay, however, either with the white men or the red, whereupon the apostles of this region began to attend more to their own affairs than to the saving of savage souls. They broke up their establishments in 1844, and thenceforth became a political clique, whose chief aim was to acquire other men's property."

Please note the charges. Here are Christian men and women who have for years deprived themselves of all the benefits of civilization, and endured the hardships and dangers of frontier life, professedly that they might preach the gospel to savage people, but says Mr. Bancroft:

"Missionary work did not pay." In the sense of money making, when did Missionary work ever pay? This history of the Pacific States is a history for the generations to come. It is to go into Christian homes and upon the shelves of Christian libraries. If it is true, Christianity stands disgraced and Christian Missionaries stand dishonored.

Mr. Bancroft says: "They broke up their establishments in 1844 and became a political clique, whose chief aim was to acquire other men's property." As usual, another one of the historian's valuable aides comes upon the stage in the succeeding volume, and gives a horrifying account of "The great massacre at Dr. Whitman's Mission, on Nov. 29th, 1847." He tells us "There were at the time seventy souls at the Mission" and "Fourteen persons were killed and forty-seven taken captives." Does this prove the historian's truthfulness who had before told his readers that "They broke up their establishments in 1844 and thenceforth became a political clique, whose aim was to acquire other men's property?" There is no possible excuse for the historian to allow his aides to lead him into such blunders as we have pointed out.