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EARLY
SETTLEMENT DAYS
and INDIAN CUSTOMS
(from the Marshfield Sun
Special Edition -- Annual,
January 1901)
_______________
PIONEER DAYS IN COOS.
_____
Empire City,
The Oldest Town in the
County.
In
1855 William V. Wells made a
pilgrimage with a companion
through
this section of Oregon and
afterwards wrote a story of
his journey for
Harper's, from which a few
extracts follow.
Empire City.
"Remounting [illegible;
we?] struggled along
through the labyrinth of
trunks, until at sundown a
slight rise in the ground
gave us a glimpse of
daylight through the forest.
A citizen of Empire City
suddenly appeared
and paused aghast in his
route at sight of two
strangers. The grip on
his
trusty rifle was a little
tightened as we approach,
but seeing we were
immigrants, and probably not
connected with any of the
local issues of
Coos Bay country, he
shouted:
" ' Dern my skin, but
when I heered the brush a
crackin' I thought I had
ketched that cow at last.
How are ye, strangers --
bound to Coos?'
"We reply, and after a
brief interchange of news,
we pursued our way.
He pointed out, as we
parted, the graves of five
children who had been
crushed by the falling of a
tree some twelve months
before.
"After the discovery of
the coal deposits, there was
a rush of some 20
families to the mineral
region, most of whom cleared
and claimed, under
the law of 1847, 640 acres
of land each. To avoid
the danger of falling
trees, it is necessary to
burn and fell all suspicious
ones within a few
hundred yards of the
dwelling. One night
the father heard crackling
in the
direction of a giant
pine which had been steadily
consuming under the
action of fire for a week
past. The family was
asleep but like lightning
the
danger flashed upon the
settler, and arousing his
wife, they seized two of
the children, and hurried
the bewildered little flock
into the night air.
But
the warning had come too
late. As they issued
from the hut, the tree -- a
monstrous tower of wood,
little lower than the cross
of Trinity Church in
New York -- toppled from its
center and fell to the
earth. The cabin was
directly in a line with its
descent, and was smashed to
atoms. The little
mound, over which clamber a
few blackberry vines, marks
the lonely grave.
'As
we neared the edge of the
forest, the regular strokes
of an ax
resounding in echoes through
the shadowy silence, showed
we were nearing
our place of destination.
The horses, now quite worn
down with the
wearisome route, pricked up
their ears at the sound, and
quickening their
pace, we issued from the
woods upon the banks of a
beautiful and spacious
bay, stretching some three
miles directly beyond us,
and about five in the
right and left. The
surrounding woods were
clearly depicted in its
glassy
surface, while the swelling
tide swept nobly up to
the spot where we stood.
It was the famous Coos Bay,
of which some indistinct
accounts had reached
San Francisco, but which,
passed over in the
reconnaissance of the United
States Coast Survey, had
remained unexplored and
almost unknown.
Indeed, no maps or charts,
save the one afterward made
by myself from
rough sketches, exist of
this fine sheet of water.
"To the right lay the
little town of Empire City
-- every collection of
dwellings in Oregon and
California is a City --
composed of some 30
houses, mostly of boards,
and from the midst of
which a half-finished
wharf projected into the
bay. A hasty glance at
the scene sufficed: for our
animals were already gazing
wistfully at the place, with
visions of corn or
barley, doubtless, rising in
the dim perspective [sic].
So with as brisk a gait
as we could assume, we
entered the town -- the
entire population
completely electrified by
our arrival, and crowding
around us as curious
specimens of humanity, which
in truth, we were.
"Our friend, Mr.
Rogers, hastened out to meet
us; and rescuing his
visitors from the crowd,
hurried us into his store,
where we were not long in
making ourselves at home.
"Behold us now before a
crackling fire of
pine-knots, alternately
sipping
the contents of a copious
bowl of whiskey punch -- and
such whiskey,
shade of Baccus! and
detailing to the attentive
listeners the news from '
Frisco ', as San Francisco
is here familiarly termed.
The mail facilities
between Coos Bay and the
great commercial metropolis
of the Pacific are
extremely uncertain and by
no means regular, so our
arrival was a matter of
the greatest moment.
"Mr. Rogers' store is
the commercial and political
headquarters of Coos
Bay. The stout
proprietor himself, a
rosy-cheeked, educated
Vermonter,
has held some of the most
important offices in the
gift of the people [sic],
and his hearty manners and
good natured laughs have won
for him the
reputation of the most
popular man at Coos.
The store is the resort of
the
inhabitants for many miles
around on Sundays, when,
seated on the counter,
they discuss the most
important tropics, and
select goods from the
assortment of our host.
The
glance around the shelves
revealed the extent of his
stock, which, as a racy
informant remarked in answer
to my look of inquiry,
consisted of ' green
groceries ' -- i. e., black
thread and vinegar!
"As the fire lighted up
the interior of the rough
dwelling, and brought
into bold relief the
stalwart forms of men whose
tastes and occupations had
led them into this corner of
the world for a livelihood,
it was difficult to
realize that four years ago
the bare existence of such a
place as Coos Bay
was unknown.
"The evening wore away
with songs and stories,
jolly great pipes of
tobacco black as sooty
Acheron were smoked and
refitted, more logs were
piled upon the fire, and
rough jokes flew around the
merry circle. At last,
weary with the ride, and
perhaps a little overcome by
the hospitality of our
entertainers, we were shown
to a species of shed, the
sign over the door of
which read thus:
PIONEER HOTEL -- DONUTS --
WOM
MEELS.
And denoted the sole public
house of Empire City.
Here, we addressed
ourselves to sleep and after
a round twelve hours, came
out on the following
day, brisk as larks and
prepared to see the lions.
"Coos Bay is about
twenty miles in length and
from three to four in
width. It is entered
from the ocean -- or,
rather, the ocean discharges
[printout illegible]
habitants [printout
illegible] by a narrow
channel,
perhaps half a mile wide
from land to land. The
navigation is somewhat
intricate, but not
dangerous. There is
depth of water for vessels
loaded to
ten or twelve feet, and
numerous cargoes of coal
have been taken to San
Francisco -- a distance of
about four hundred miles.
The mines are some
twenty miles from the bar or
entrance, and facilities
already exist for the
rapid loading of vessels.
The coal, which extends over
a country some
thirty miles by twenty is
abundant, accessible, and of
good quality. As yet
only a few banks have been
opened. An immense
trade -- that of supplying
the Pacific coast with coal
-- is destined to spring up
between this point and
California.
"During our four months
stay at Coos and vicinity,
we took frequent
advantage of the numerous
offers of our acquaintance
to make excursions
across and up the bay,
sometimes to join in the
excitement of the chase,
salmon fishing, or surveying
the interesting country
about us. The scenery
around the bay is made up of
deep, silent pine and fir
forests, often relieved
with the gayer-tinted
foliage of the birch and
maple. Toward the
ocean,
where the northwest winds
prevailing in the summer
months have heaped
up symmetrical mounds of
sand, all traces of
vegetation disappear and a
desolate expanse of white
mingles in the horizon with
the blue line of the
sea. An incessant
roar, mellowed by the
distance into a hoarse
murmur,
marks where the surf chafes
among the rocks skirting the
entrance to the
bay.
"Days and weeks may
pass away, and if you go
beyond the small circle
of civilization around the
town you will meet with no
living thing but the
passive Indian squaw
dragging her load of fish to
the cabin, or some startled
wild beast, quickly darting
out of sight into the depths
of the woods."
Indian Dance
and Burial.
An
Indian dance or merry-making
having been announced near
the bay,
the whole available
population turned out to
assist at it. Entering
an open
space in the woods toward
midnight, we found about
thirty braves and
squaws gathered around an
immense fire of pine logs,
the flames from
which lit up their grotesque
accoutrements [sic] and
hideously painted
faces, while the surrounding
forest echoing their
monotonous [sic] chants,
was dimly illumined with the
red glare. For a space
of twenty yards around
the fire the scene was a
blaze of light, but from
that point the woods receded
into an impenetrable gloom.
We dismounted, and fastening
our horses to
the limbs, entered at once
among them. Here an
old squaw, whose leathern
[sic] hide, naked from the
waist up, lay like the folds
of oiled parchment
over her attenuated form,
sat rocking herself to and
fro, mumbling an
indescribable jargon.
She was stone blind.
There a bevy of young ones,
tattooed and bedaubed beyond
all descriptions, joined
their voices to a
jumping, jolting dance, hand
in hand, back and forth,
toward and away from
the fire. Beyond were
seated as near to the flames
as the heat would allow,
a row of Indians all
fantastically dressed,
beating time to the chant
with
sticks, which they held
crossways in their hands,
and at given signals rattled
nervously together.
"Several old chiefs
seemed to act as leaders in
the [printout illegible;
festivities?] and at their
signal a wild, unearthly
yell arose, which, but for
the presence of my
companions, I might easily
have construed into a war-
whoop. All were in
motion; rocking, dancing,
jumping or stepping, in
uncouth gait, to the time of
the music or chant.
Perspiration flowed in
streams, and the decidedly
careless display f female
animated nature would
have driven less interested,
and perhaps more scrupulous,
spectators than
ourselves from the scene.
As the flames roared their
chorus with the
hideous noise of these
creatures, it seemed like a
dance of fiends incarnate
in some orgie of Pandemonium
[sic]. Hanging up in
elongated wicker
baskets, so closely woven as
to be water-proof, were some
dozen papooses
strapped to the straight
back of these portable
cradles, and nothing but the
head of the little imps
visible from among the fire
and dirt.
"An Indian burial is
scarcely a less remarkable
scene. Formerly the
body
was burned, and the wife of
the corpse killed and
interred with the body.
This, and numerous other
like horrible practices,
have been summarily
abolished by the settlers.
When one of the community
begins to show signs
of dissolution (which is
usually hastened by the
sweating or other sanitary
process to which the sick
are submitted) [sic], the
whole tribe commences a
terrible outcry which
generally lasts through the
dying agony of the
sufferer. The body is
then stretched upon the
ground and sprinkled with
sand and the ashes of
sea-weed or kelp. The
legs are forcibly doubled up
toward the head, and the
ankles tied as closely as
the rigidity of the corpse
will permit, to the neck.
The relatives of the
deceased shave their heads
and
place the hair upon the body
-- thus rolled into a heap
-- together with some
shells and nutritive [sic]
roots for the dead to
subsist upon. The body
is
then lowered into the grave,
which is made of a length to
accomodate the
dimunition [sic] of size to
which the defunct has been
submitted. The earth
being thrown in, the whole
tribe jump alternately upon
it until the ground
becomes quite solid.
The baskets, clothing,
spears and all personal
property
is formed into a heap,
packed upon the grave, and
covered securely with
sticks and stones.
With a chief, the ceremonies
are more impressive and
lengthy."
. .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. .
Fashionable
Ball.
"For some weeks
previous to Christmas great
preparations had been
made for the observance of
that time-honored
anniversary. Now, in
Oregon, where people reside
ten miles apart, and call a
man neighbor who
lives a half a day's journey
away, it is not so easy to
make up a fashionable
party, for sundry reasons,
as in Fifth avenue, or any
other of the 'close
settlements' in New York.
If a hop is to take place,
weeks must be given to
prepare in: the 'store
clothes' taken out, aired
and brushed, old bonnets
furbished up, horses driven
in from distant pasture, and
saddles made ready.
Then the nearest settlement
must be applied to for a
proper amount of
whisky and sugar, raisins
and flour. But on the
occasion above alluded to,
great efforts were made to
ave matters go off with
eclat. Deacon I.-----,
residing on the ocean beach,
about twenty miles to the
southward of Coos
Bay, and known as the most
liberal, warm-hearted old
gentleman of
Southern Oregon, had
appropriated, some time in
advance, the right to give
the Christmas ball. It
was to last two days and two
nights. Oceans of
whisky, hills of venison and
beef, no end of pies and 'sech
like.' The ladies
of all Coos county were to
be there, and a fiddler from
the distant point of
Port Orford itself engaged.
To this feast did all hands
look forward with
secret longing and hope.
Two days beforehand the
exodus for Deacon I.----
-'s began to take place, and
among the invited guests
were the two 'Frisco
chaps,' i. e., H----- and
myself. And on
Christmas eve the ball
commenced.
There were gay roystering
blades [sic] from Port
Orford, select men and
distinguished individuals
from all over the country,
and belles from
everywhere. Such a
recherhe [sic] affair had
not occurred since the
settlement of the territory.
For two nights and days the
festivities
continued; and after all the
dancing, riding, drinking,
singing and laughing -
- and all this without
sleeping, and with a
determination to 'never give
up' --
there were buxom forms and
brilliant eyes that dared us
to another break-
down!
"I snap my fingers at
all civilized Miss Nancys
henceforth and forever.
Give me, for the essence of
fun and the physical ability
to carry it out, a
corn-fed, rosy-cheeked,
bouncing Oregon lass, with
eyes bright as the rivers
that sparkle merrily on
their way to the sea from
those snow-clad
mountains, and hearts as
light as the fresh breezes
of that northern climate! I
may forget the Central
American excitement; sooner
or lated [sic] I shall
have forgotten the birth of
an heir to the French
throne; the siege of
Sebastopol bay [sic] fade
away, but that Oregon ball
will be ever fresh in
my memory."
. .
. .
. .
. .
. .
Coal
Deposits Then Known.
"The coal deposits of
Coos Bay should be the
subject of a separate
article, and require more
space than could be devoted
to them in the limits
of these pages. A
report, recently published
by myself in San Francisco,
contains the outlines of
what will doubtless become
hereafter widely
discussed. That the
importation of coal to
California via Cape Horn
from
Europe and the Eastern
states must eventually
cease, few who are
acquainted with the facts
wills deny. A space of
country about the size of
Rhode Island is a solid bed
of coal, outcropping
wherever a ravine or break
occurs. The veins are
from 6 to 10 feet thick. It
has been satisfactorily
tested and proved to be well
adapted to steamship
purposes. It is in
quality
not unlike the Scotch cannel
[sic], but lighter, and when
unmixed with
foreign substances burns to
clear red ashes. But
these are only a few of the
boundless treasures of the
region of the Pacific, and
which, as the country
becomes populated, are
destined to taech [sic] the
inhabitants of the extreme
West to rely on their own
resources. California
and Oregon produce nearly
every article necessary to
the comfort and subsistence
of man, and it needs
but the construction of the
great avenue of population -
the national railroad -
to bring the country to the
pinnacle of greatness and
wealth. Shall we live
to see it built?"
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