Chapter 39

A SPANISH CHESTNUT, CLARKSTON-VINELAND, 1907The townsite of Asotin at that time was a cattle range. There was one cabin but farther up the river in what was later called the "upper town" was a store and postoffice conducted by Alex Sumpter. We proceeded to climb the hill driving where we could, for there was practically no road. Upon reaching the plateau we gazed out over miles and miles of bunch grass prairie that stretched away, seemingly, in unbroken lines to the foot of the Blue Mountains nearly twenty miles away. As we drove on we passed here and there a settler's home with a few acres broken and fenced. There were the Bean, Ayers, and Bolick ranches, while a little further on we came to the Boyer place. Nearer the mountains there were many families; namely: Whiton, Scott, James and Andrew Robinson, Sangster, Kanawyer, Dodson, Perciful, Flinn, Bay, Huber, Dundrum, Shelman, Foredyce, Sweigert, and many others. We located about four miles from Anatone, which at that time consisted of a small store and postoffice conducted by Chas. Isecke. The only schoolhouse in what is now Asotin County, was located about one-half mile distant from the postoffice. Back in the Blue Mountains a few miles was the saw mill of Messrs. Bean and Farrish.The immediate neighborhood in which we lived held the honor of being the first on the "flat" visited by the "stork"; Elmer Pintler, second son of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Pintler, being the first white child born on Asotin flat, and Ellen Caroline Bay, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. John Bay was the first girl. Both little toddlers were two years old or thereabouts when we moved into the neighborhood.The country was now filling up rapidly; all fear of Indian troubles was past, and the people were intent upon making comfortable and permanent homes for themselves and their children. Money was so scarce that it was often said that tamarack rails were "legal tender." Every man was owner of a few, at least, for it was the only fencing known here at that time. Consequently every man, at some time during the year, went into the mountains and demonstrated the accomplishment of Lincoln.The nearest flour mill was at Colombia Center, some thirty or forty miles distant, and the yearly trips to that point were long and tedious, over a track that could scarcely be called a road. The country was full of cattle, so beef was cheap, being two or three cents per pound, but pork was scarce. Vegetables were also scarce that year, owing to a grasshopper raid. In 1881, instead of grasshoppers, there were crickets, which passed through the country in May, but were too early to do much damage, and the gardens were fairly good that year. These raiding pests did not visit us again and all vegetation flourished in the new soil.The Pine Grove schoolhouse, the second to be built on the flat, was built in the fall of 1880, and school was conducted there that winter. This was not the first term taught in the district however, as a Mr. Morgan had taught the few children in the neighborhood, the year before in the home of Mr. Pintler. All school districts held at first only three months of school, but it was a beginning out of which has grown our school system of today of which all are so justly proud.The diversions of the time, for there are no people on earth more sociably inclined than the pioneer, were visiting, dancing, quilting bees, barn and house raisings, "turkey shoots" on holidays, and of course the patriotic celebrations of July Fourth.As to dress, the people wore what they had and were glad to get it. Cowhide and calico were the latest importations. It was not what they wore but what they were that counted, and that simple garb clothed some of the finest characters that I have ever known. Wherever there was sickness, sorrow, or trouble of whatever sort, that home was filled with friends with sympathetic hearts and helpful hands.Of churches there were none and no resident minister, though an occasional visiting or circuit minister held services in the schoolhouse, but each school district maintained a flourishing Sunday school. The most convenient and common mode of travel to these gatherings was on horseback.In 1883 Asotin County was established. We were very proud and later when statehood was granted we felt that we were making progress by leaps and bounds.Year by year the acreage was increased, new fences were run, and in an amazingly short time, the vast herds of horses and cattle that had grazed peacefully there or wandered in long wavering lines, along the deep old trails to the nearby water holes, gave place to the wide fields of waving grain and passed on to the wilder regions.And so we grew, the old log cabins with their mud and rock chimneys were replaced by more pretentious dwellings, better farm buildings began to appear, more machinery was purchased, the cayuses and the gaunt range cattle were weeded out to make room for better livestock. Along all lines we sought to improve the general equipment and thus add to the farm's efficiency. Each year brought much progress and some failure. There were hard winters and years of drought. There were good times and hard times, but these were just the incidents common to the life of every community. We weathered them all—and today are proud that our little corner is a worthy part of the "Great Northwest."In passing along any one of the numerous fine highways of which our county boasts today, one meets occasionally an old pioneer slipping smoothly along in his high powered motor, and there comes to mind a picture of that same traveller, thirty or forty years ago, toiling along that same highway, over a rough rutted course, that could only by the greatest courtesy be called a road, with his jaded cayuse team and lumber wagon, creeping along with the summer sun blazing down upon him or the howling blizzard of winter buffetting, beating him pitilessly, and the biting cold freezing him to the very bone. Picture the contrast, dear reader, and rejoice in the progress of forty years.In all the years to come we will be found working together for all that makes for development and betterment along all lines, for in such unity alone, can there be real progress. We know that each coming year is better than the last, and all unite in the wish that good old Asotin County may see many of them.Another of the most prominent of the early families of Asotin County is the Clemans family. A daughter of that family, now well known in Asotin city as Mrs. Lillian Clemans Merchant, was for some years a teacher, and then the superintendent of schools. We are glad to present here a valuable and entertaining account of the early schools of Asotin County from Mrs. Merchant:BEGINNINGS OF SCHOOLS IN ASOTIN COUNTYBy Mrs. Lillian Clemens MerchantThe writer was not among the earliest settlers of this portion of Washington, having reached the county in the autumn of 1885, although the schools and school systems of the county were still in the embryonic stage, we having enjoyed the privilege of attending school in the first schoolhouse in the county, a little log building 12 by 14 situated about one-half mile from Anatone.This seat of learning had one window on either side and was furnished as follows: A few rude desks of varying sizes fashioned from rough lumber but soon worn smooth by the activity of the children by whom they were occupied, a long bench made of a hewed log with eight upright pieces driven into it for legs, being used as recitation bench, a small crude table constructed from native wood served for the teacher, a few planed boards painted black in the rear of the room sufficed for a board, a piece of sheep-skin tacked on a block of wood served as an eraser, while a small box heater occupied the center of the room.Many of the children rode cayuse ponies to school, staking or hobbling them in the open, that they might feast on the tall bunch grass that was so abundant. School was held only during the spring and summer months. On rainy days the riding equipment was of necessity brought into the schoolhouse. The odor emanating from them and the huddled groups of wet children and the lunch pails made a peculiar combination of odors, but in those days we knew nothing of germs. Children were taught to value the privilege of attending school as almost sacred. A year's work was frequently done in a term of three or four months, much stress being placed upon the three R's.These pioneer children represented many nationalities. One family in the locality were direct descendants of the Wadsworth family of New England to which the poet Longfellow belongs. There were many of Indian blood. One of these young Indian women of distinguished lineage (half breed) grew to womanhood with us. Later losing her father, her mother having died in the girl's infancy, upon opening of the reservation of the Nez Percés, secured her allotment and was persuaded by the teachers of the Indians to attend Carlisle, which she did. But in recent years we happened to be at the interstate fair, and walking into the main pavilion where an Indian baby show was being held, there we saw our schoolmate, a proud and happy mother wrapped in the regulation blanket with the "blue ribbon" pinned on her dusky babe which she held in her arms. Recognition was mutual, but owing to the natural reserve of her race we secured no explanation of conditions.Fortunately in those early days requirements for securing a teacher's certificate were not rigid, so teachers were plentiful but none qualified to teach beyond the grammar school work, necessitating a removal for high school work which could be ill afforded at that time. At Lewiston, Idaho, about twenty miles distant the Methodist Church established a so-called college which flourished for a time. Many of the young men and women of Asotin County availed themselves of the educational advantages offered by it.As soon as the normal school at Cheney opened its doors Asotin County was represented, but in order to go there the student was compelled to leave Anatoneat 7 A. M., reaching Asotin four hours later and from there another stage was taken which connected with the Uniontown stage in Lewiston, Idaho. About 2 P. M. the Uniontown stage, now designated as a wild-west stage coach, being drawn by six to eight horses, carrying often fourteen to sixteen passengers, took the timid student in charge and transported him as far as Uniontown. It being dark and the train not leaving until morning a stop was made over night. The train was boarded the next morning for Spokane, a stop of a few hours in that thriving little village, and then off to Cheney which was reached later in the afternoon, thus making two days for the trip. But the influence of the splendid men and women in charge of the normal and the excellent opportunities offered the student over his environment in his home county was a splendid recompense for the sacrifice he had to make in leaving Asotin County home folks and friends. But the return of the student and his entry into the teaching profession where he was given a royal welcome by all neighbors and old friends made him feel once more that the effort was more than worth while.The association of the teachers with the parents in these communities was close indeed. It was the good fortune of the teacher to be entertained over night in every home, although humble, thus acquiring first-hand knowledge of the environment of every child under his or her supervision. It was also the teacher who set the example for the young people in the community thus almost invariably improving the moral status. The teacher was often the Sunday school superintendent or called upon to direct the community choir or was instrumental in organizing debating societies or spelling schools, thus again coming in close contact with the entire neighborhood. Out of this association many friendships were formed that counted for much in the later development of the county. The remuneration received by these teachers rarely exceeded forty dollars per month, many receiving less, but these faithful teachers who still remain in the county in various walks of life have the satisfaction of thinking that their work was appreciated when they observe the places these pioneer children occupy in the county.The county school superintendent was also an efficient factor in those early days. He might be justly compared to a missionary. Every school board and likewise patrons of the district looked to him for close supervision of the work, as also did every teacher expect in him a high tribunal for the settlement of difficulties that occasionally arose through some misunderstanding.Since the organization of the county the office of county superintendent has been held by both men and women, as to service about equally divided. Speaking from a woman's standpoint, school visitation in early days in the county was not an easy matter. The roads were extremely poor, schoolhouses far apart, many of which were not accessible by vehicle. One was compelled to drive until the road ceased to be fit for travel or terminated abruptly, at which time the team was converted into saddle horses when the journey was continued. Arduous indeed! was the trip but one was fully repaid when some homesick teacher brightened under the encouragement given and the children put forth an extra effort to make their school the best in the county in attendance or improvement along some line designated by the superintendent, the result to be passed upon by that officer upon the next official visit. Some of the children in these isolated districts were twelve and fourteen years old and never had the privilege ofbeing inside of any public building except their own little schoolhouse, had never had the pleasure of spending a dime. These hardy pioneers always shared their best with the superintendent. We recall one of the young women superintendents having gone out for a survey of the rural schools being entertained in a home over night where the only bed in the home was a bunk nailed up to the side of the wall and filled with straw. This the hostess and her three months' old baby shared with the visitor, while the husband went to the barn loft to sleep. This young woman so hospitably entertained was made to feel in this humble home that those people struggling against poverty knew she was interested in the development of the various districts and always had the loyal support of every one in those communities. All worked for the common aim—the betterment of local conditions.In early days it was not out of the ordinary for Indians to appear at the farm houses demanding a meal. One incident has been brought to our knowledge where two blanket Indians went into a house asking for a meal in almost unintelligible English, but during the progress of the meal one of the girls of the family was murmuring a few German phrases which she had learned from a neighbor, whereupon the younger of the two Indians asked in splendid English why she had not learned the languages when young. It developed that he was able to converse in five languages, being a college graduate, while at this time Asotin County's children had no advantages above the grammar grades. But let it be said to the credit of these pioneer children who are the fathers and mothers of the present younger generation that they made good and are seeing that their children are getting the best the great state offers educationally.Thirty years have brought vast changes educationally—classical, industrial and literary courses having been added to our systems, the schools having been inspected and placed upon the accredited lists of the state. Children are provided free transportation to and from schools; hot lunches are provided; buildings equipped with splendid heating systems and sanitary conditions are generally observed. Teachers are paid excellent wages and are well prepared for their work. The county superintendent is provided with an automobile for visitation of schools which are practically all reached by an excellent system of highways.As an outcome of this superior development many of our young men are holding positions of trust in the present crisis, in the service of Uncle Sam both at home and abroad.Would we return to the old conditions and times were we given our choice? We love to dwell upon the early times, the struggles, the happy hours, to think of those who were friends during those trying years, but we wish our county to keep pace with the progress of the whole Northwest. So we, in the future, as we have done in the past, as loyal united citizens, will boost for the educational, spiritual and civic growth of Asotin County.We have given the personal reminiscences of pioneers of Walla Walla and Asotin counties. We are now giving something of the recollections of the first woman in what is now Columbia County, one of the pioneers of 1859, Mrs. Margaret Gilbreath:S. L. Gilbreath and I were married at Albany, Ore., in March, 1859, and started at once for Washington Territory with a band of cattle, one wagon and team, and three herders.At the Cascade Mountains two other men, John Wells and Tom Davis, with a wagon and cattle, joined us. We soon found it impossible to hurry on with the wagons, so they were left behind until the road was opened, the rest coming on with the stock. Pack horses carried the camp equipment. It was hard work opening up the trail on account of fallen trees and deep snow. We camped on Butter Creek and sent two men on to find suitable grazing land for our cattle. They returned in a few days reporting that good land with plenty of bunch grass could be homesteaded on the Touchet River. Having succeeded in bringing up our wagons under much difficulty, we continued on our way to Walla Walla.Captain Dent, commander of Fort Walla Walla, stopped us and insisted that we settle near Walla Walla. We could not do this as the horses of the garrison had eaten all the grass from the range and we were looking for good pasture.We inquired of the captain if we would be safe from the Indians if we went to the Touchet Valley. He assured us that the Indians were peaceable, which Mr. Gilbreath believed as he had served as volunteer through the Indian wars of 1855 and 1856, and knew of the Nez Percés fighting and scouting for the whites through the war. We found them always friendly, unless they had been drinking.Leaving Walla Walla we proceeded on our way to The Crossing, which is now Dayton, reaching there August 27, 1859.Mr. Stubbs, whose real name was Theodore Schnebley, lived here in a log house with his squaw wife. He sold whiskey to the Indians, thereby causing the whites much trouble. In coming into the Valley of the Touchet we left the Indian trail and came down a ravine, in some places having to shovel out places in the ravine to keep the wagons from turning over. These wagons were the first brought into the Touchet Valley.The next day, after our arrival at The Crossing, we started to build a corral for the cattle, but discovered a den of rattlesnakes. After killing ten we decided to move down the valley to a fine location near a big spring of pure water. This land we homesteaded.The Indian chiefs were frequent visitors at our cabin, calling soon after we came. Timothy and Lawyer and their friends sometimes sent messengers on ahead to tell us they were coming to dine with us. We would hasten to get ready a good meal for we thought it best to keep them friendly.Many times we expected trouble from them. Once they rode up the trail shouting and firing off their guns. That night they burned the house of Mr. Stubbs. Sometimes they would imitate wolves howling and slip up near the house to see if there was a man there to know whether to scare the white woman or not.Once they came and demanded food and money and continued to frighten meuntil I grabbed a rifle and started toward them. Then they threw up their hands and laughed and said I was afraid.Several times they would run a beef into the woods and kill it, carrying home the meat. One night when the Indians had been drinking and were giving us a great scare, two men hunting cattle and Reverend Berry, who preached at ourcabin once a month, happened to be there. We were certainly glad to have company.One day Mr. Gilbreath was plowing rye grass with oxen when Reverend Berry came riding up. He stopped his work and waited for Mr. Berry to come up to him, then said, looking at his clothes and general appearance, "A Methodist preacher, I suppose." "Yes, I am," was the reply. "Well, go on to the house. My wife is a Methodist and will be glad to see you." Reverend Berry preached in our cabin all that fall and winter of 1859 and 1860. His congregation consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Herren, Mr. Stubbs and his dusky wife, Mr. Gilbreath and I, and men who happened to be in the neighborhood. Mr. Berry afterward made his home in Walla Walla for some years.Whiskey Creek was so named because a band of outlaws made this region their rendezvous, selling whiskey and stealing cattle. Their names were Bill Bunting, John Cooper, Bill Skinner, George Ives and several others who were later hanged in Montana for crimes. The authorities there evidently knew their business, for these were the men who caused the Vigilantes to organize against them. Many prominent men took part in ridding the new country of these undesirables, among them Anderson Cox and J. W. McGhee. It was said that in dealing with the thieves Mr. McGhee said to George Ives who was up for trial: "George, we want you to leave, and we want it to be a long time before you come back." Mr. McGhee's deliberate way of speaking evidently carried weight, for George left.The first crop of wheat in the Touchet Valley was raised on the land of Israel Davis on Whiskey Creek. He was leaving for the Willamette to buy sheep and Mr. Gilbreath harvested the wheat by cradling, and threshed it out by horses tramping on it. One night a wind came up and Mr. Gilbreath and hired man got up out of bed and began the work of cleaning the eat by pouring pails full of it from a scaffold to the ground. In this manner over a thousand bushels were cleaned. This was intended for seed for the coming year, but the hard winter of 1861 and 1862 followed when food for man and beast became so scarce that most of it was sold to the needy for food, and to keep the teams from starving. Some of the settlers ground the wheat in coffee mills and used it as porridge. We sold our wheat for $2 a bushel. We could have sold at any price but Mr. Gilbreath would not take advantage of their great need.This was the most terrible winter ever experienced in the valley. The snow drifted so deep that many of the cattle were frozen standing up. Out of 300 of ours two cows and a calf, which we fed, were left. The timber wolves killed a good many cattle that winter. One day a wolf attacked a calf and the mother heard the cry of distress coming from some distance. When she reached it, the wolf was starting to devour the body. The cow fought it from the calf for a day or two, making the most piteous cries. Other cattle smelled the blood and came bawling for miles around. The sound of hundreds of frenzied cattle bawling will not soon be forgotten.We were fortunate in having plenty of supplies that winter, as we had prepared to send a small pack train to the mines at Elk City. The deep snow made it impossible to get supplies, so the neighbors called on us, and our stores were opened to feed them. Our stock of food was divided among thirteen families. The snow was so deep that only a narrow trail could be kept open to Walla Wallaby miners coming to and from the Idaho mines. The snow lay on the ground until March, and in shady places until June. We had to go to Walla Walla in the spring and buy barley for seed.Miller and Mossman who ran a pony express to the mines, stopped at our cabin for meals, and for exchange of horses. Their saddle-bags were often loaded with gold dust. Joaquin Miller, who is now known as one of our best western poets, was then a rough frontiersman, dressed in buckskin.Having moved to a new log house, school was held in our cabin in the spring of 1862. Five or six children attended. Mr. Harlin, an Englishman, was the teacher, and he stayed with us.Another school was taught in 1863 in the Forrest brothers' cabin. These men were brothers-in-law of Jesse N. Day, who later founded Dayton. Frank Harmon was the teacher and A. W. Sweeney of Walla Walla was the first county superintendent.Reverend Sweeney organized a Cumberland Presbyterian Church at Waitsburg. Among others, Mr. and Mrs. Long and daughter and Mr. Gilbreath and I were charter members.Our first child who died in infancy was the first white child born in the territory now included in Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties. The oldest living person born in this territory is Mrs. John Steen, daughter of George Miller.I was the only white woman in this territory for two months, until Lambert Herren and family came and settled near. Mrs. Robt. Rowley, who was two months old at that time, is the only living one of the Herren family of eight children.Mrs. Herren was a typical pioneer woman, fearless and kind-hearted, nursing me and others in times of sickness, in the absence of a physician. When the Indians threatened me, I sent for her and she came with shotgun and indignation, and rescued me.Great changes have taken place since those early days, and many incidents of vital interest to us then have been forgotten, but the kindness and simple living of the early settlers are not easily forgotten.We have had occasion in this volume to make frequent reference to Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Pomeroy, founders of the town named from them.One of their daughters, now Mrs. Peter McClung, living still in her home town, was the "first child" in Pomeroy now living there. She has kindly given us a short sketch of what might well be called the atmosphere and the feeling of her childhood home.We are pleased to include it here as the closing contribution of this chapter of memories.RECOLLECTIONS OF POMEROYBy Mrs. Peter McClungTo write a story of my experience as a child on the land now occupied by the town of Pomeroy will not require extended space. Days were much the same with the three children of the Pomeroy family isolated from neighbors by distance measured in many miles. Being the youngest of the three children myamusements were in large measure directed by my brother, who was my senior by four years, and my sister, the oldest of the trio.My earliest recollections recall the counting of the election ballots at our home which was the precinct voting place for the half dozen votes then polled here. It was my great privilege and delight to sit beside my father, for many years one of the members of the election board, and listen to the humdrum tones of the men's voices as they uttered the words that made for the success of some doughty pioneer with political ambitions, or the defeat of one who had fallen a victim to the solicitations of over-zealous friends.For several years my father cast the only republican ballot in the precinct. I soon reached an age that enabled me to comprehend that fact and know its significance. Our voting precinct contained many thousand square miles—bounded on the south by the Blue Mountains, on the north by the Snake River, on the east by Idaho and on the west by the Touchet River. I sometimes wonder if the deep interest I now feel in all elections and campaigns is not in part due to my early experiences wherein the heat of the neighborhood contests centered about me.My play time was long and often lonesome, the same, I suppose, as that of other pioneer children reared in the interior of this semi-arid region. Great was my pleasure when I was allowed to ride my pony over the hills after cattle, or to follow my brother on a hunt for prairie chickens or ducks. When my father's two greyhounds, "Peggy" and "John," made one of their frequent raids on the then ever-present coyotes, with the rest of the family my cup of happiness was near the point of bubbling over. Old "Rero's" peculiar bark warned us of the near approach of predaceous animal or bird.The Pataha Creek then teemed with fish and angling occupied much of my time. The great birds' nests in the trees that fringed the streams, the cubby-holes of the animals along its banks, the caverns in the granite-ribbed Pataha hills, in the fancy of a child, contained wonders impenetrable, yet much there was revealed. With the beginning of the town began a new life for me.We insert at this point a notable speech upon a notable occasion by one of the most distinguished citizens of Walla Walla, who is also one of our Advisory Board, and whose support and suggestions in the preparation of this work have been of utmost value.This is Governor Miles C. Moore, last Territorial Governor. Upon his retirement on November 11, 1889, he delivered the following address, one eminently worthy of preservation in the literature of the State of Washington.ADDRESS OF EX-GOVERNOR MOORELadies and Gentlemen: A custom has grown up here at the capital city and crystallized into unwritten law, which requires the retiring governor to deliver his own valedictory, and also to salute the incoming administration. In accordance with that custom I am here as the last of the race of territorial governors to say "Hail and farewell." Hail to the lusty young State of Washington, rising like a giant in its strength; farewell to old territorial days. It is an occasion for reminiscence, for retrospection. To those of us who have watched at the cradleof Washington's political childhood, this transition to statehood has its pathetic side. It stirs within us memories of the "brave days of old." The past rises before us.We see again the long line of white canvas-covered wagons leaving the fringe of settlements of the then western frontier, through tear-dimmed eyes we see them disappear down behind the western horizon, entered upon that vast terra incognita, the great American desert of our school days. At last we see them emerge, after months of weary travel upon the plains of eastern Washington, or, later, hewing out paths in the wilderness, striving to reach that "Eden they call Puget Sound." Hither year after year came the pioneers and builded their homes and planted the symbols of their faith upon the banks of your rivers, in the sun-kissed valleys of your inland empire, under the shadows of your grand mountains, and upon the shores of this vast inland sea.Very gradually we grew. The donation act passed by Congress in 1850, giving to each man and his wife who would settle thereon a square mile of land in this fertile region, attracted the first considerable immigration. It also probably saved to the United States this northwest territory. The entire population, which at the date of organization as a separate territory, in 1853, was 5,500, had grown to only 24,000 in 1870, and to 67,000 in 1880.Still with an abiding faith in the ultimate greatness of Washington, and the attractions of her climate, when her wealth of resources should become known, the old settler watched through the long years the gradual unfolding of these resources, the slow increase in population. At last the railroad came, linking us with the populous centers of civilization. They poured upon us a restless stream of immigration. A change came over the sleepy old territory. These active, pushing emigrants, the best blood of the older states, are leveling the forests, they are delving in the mines, they are tunneling the mountains, they are toiling in the grain fields, they are building cities, towns and villages, filling the heavens with the shining towers of religion and civilization.The old settler finds himself in the midst of a strange new age and almost uncomprehended scenes. The old order of things has passed away but your sturdy self-reliant pioneer looks not mournfully into the past. He is with you in the living present, with you here today, rejoicing in the marvelous prosperity visible everywhere around him, rejoicing to see the empire which he wrested from savage foes become the home of a happy people, rejoiced to see that empire, emerged from the condition of territorial vassalage, put on the robes of sovereignty.We are assembled here to celebrate this event, the most important in the history of Washington, and to put in motion the wheels of the state government. Through many slow revolving years the people of Washington have waited for their exalted privileges. So quietly have they come at last, so quietly have we passed from political infancy to the manly strength and independence of statehood, that we scarce can realize that we have attained the fruition of our hopes.Let us not forget in this hour of rejoicing the responsibility that comes with autonomy. Let us not forget that under statehood life will still have woes, that there will still be want and misery in this fair land of ours. To reduce these to the minimum is the problem of statesmanship. The responsibility rests largely with our lawmakers now assembled here. A good foundation has been laid in the adoption of an admirable constitution pronounced by an eminent authority"as good as any state now has and probably as good as any will ever get." Upon this you are to build the superstructure of the commonwealth by enacting laws for the millions who are to dwell therein.You have the storehouse of the centuries from which to draw, the crystallized experience of lawmakers from the days of Justinian down to present times. To fail to give us good laws will be to "sin against light." "Unto whomsoever much is given of him shall be much required." The eyes of all the people are upon you. It is hoped and confidently expected you will bring to the discharge of your duties wisdom, industry and lofty patriotism; that when your work is done it will be found to have been well done; that capital and labor will here have equal recognition and absolute protection; that here will arise an ideal commonwealth, the home of a race to match our mountains, worthy to wear the name of Washington.Now that I am about to surrender my trust and return to private life, I desire to testify to my grateful appreciation of the uniform kindness, forbearance and courtesy accorded me by the people of Olympia, and by all the citizens of Washington, it has been my good fortune to meet during my brief term of office. I shall always cherish among the pleasant experiences of my life the seven months passed here as Washington's last territorial governor.To your governor-elect you need no introduction; if not a pioneer, he is at least an old settler. It is a graceful tribute to this class that one of their number was selected to be the first governor of the state. It affords me pleasure to testify to his thorough and absolute devotion to its interests. His every thought is instinct with love for the fair young state. I bespeak for him your generous co-operation and assistance.With Governor Moore's address as last Territorial governor, this volume may fittingly close. The development of the Territory there so vividly summarized by him, has continued and has indeed exceeded all forecasts during the twenty-eight years of statehood, from 1889 to 1917.BIOGRAPHICAL

A SPANISH CHESTNUT, CLARKSTON-VINELAND, 1907

The townsite of Asotin at that time was a cattle range. There was one cabin but farther up the river in what was later called the "upper town" was a store and postoffice conducted by Alex Sumpter. We proceeded to climb the hill driving where we could, for there was practically no road. Upon reaching the plateau we gazed out over miles and miles of bunch grass prairie that stretched away, seemingly, in unbroken lines to the foot of the Blue Mountains nearly twenty miles away. As we drove on we passed here and there a settler's home with a few acres broken and fenced. There were the Bean, Ayers, and Bolick ranches, while a little further on we came to the Boyer place. Nearer the mountains there were many families; namely: Whiton, Scott, James and Andrew Robinson, Sangster, Kanawyer, Dodson, Perciful, Flinn, Bay, Huber, Dundrum, Shelman, Foredyce, Sweigert, and many others. We located about four miles from Anatone, which at that time consisted of a small store and postoffice conducted by Chas. Isecke. The only schoolhouse in what is now Asotin County, was located about one-half mile distant from the postoffice. Back in the Blue Mountains a few miles was the saw mill of Messrs. Bean and Farrish.

The immediate neighborhood in which we lived held the honor of being the first on the "flat" visited by the "stork"; Elmer Pintler, second son of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Pintler, being the first white child born on Asotin flat, and Ellen Caroline Bay, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. John Bay was the first girl. Both little toddlers were two years old or thereabouts when we moved into the neighborhood.

The country was now filling up rapidly; all fear of Indian troubles was past, and the people were intent upon making comfortable and permanent homes for themselves and their children. Money was so scarce that it was often said that tamarack rails were "legal tender." Every man was owner of a few, at least, for it was the only fencing known here at that time. Consequently every man, at some time during the year, went into the mountains and demonstrated the accomplishment of Lincoln.

The nearest flour mill was at Colombia Center, some thirty or forty miles distant, and the yearly trips to that point were long and tedious, over a track that could scarcely be called a road. The country was full of cattle, so beef was cheap, being two or three cents per pound, but pork was scarce. Vegetables were also scarce that year, owing to a grasshopper raid. In 1881, instead of grasshoppers, there were crickets, which passed through the country in May, but were too early to do much damage, and the gardens were fairly good that year. These raiding pests did not visit us again and all vegetation flourished in the new soil.

The Pine Grove schoolhouse, the second to be built on the flat, was built in the fall of 1880, and school was conducted there that winter. This was not the first term taught in the district however, as a Mr. Morgan had taught the few children in the neighborhood, the year before in the home of Mr. Pintler. All school districts held at first only three months of school, but it was a beginning out of which has grown our school system of today of which all are so justly proud.

The diversions of the time, for there are no people on earth more sociably inclined than the pioneer, were visiting, dancing, quilting bees, barn and house raisings, "turkey shoots" on holidays, and of course the patriotic celebrations of July Fourth.

As to dress, the people wore what they had and were glad to get it. Cowhide and calico were the latest importations. It was not what they wore but what they were that counted, and that simple garb clothed some of the finest characters that I have ever known. Wherever there was sickness, sorrow, or trouble of whatever sort, that home was filled with friends with sympathetic hearts and helpful hands.

Of churches there were none and no resident minister, though an occasional visiting or circuit minister held services in the schoolhouse, but each school district maintained a flourishing Sunday school. The most convenient and common mode of travel to these gatherings was on horseback.

In 1883 Asotin County was established. We were very proud and later when statehood was granted we felt that we were making progress by leaps and bounds.

Year by year the acreage was increased, new fences were run, and in an amazingly short time, the vast herds of horses and cattle that had grazed peacefully there or wandered in long wavering lines, along the deep old trails to the nearby water holes, gave place to the wide fields of waving grain and passed on to the wilder regions.

And so we grew, the old log cabins with their mud and rock chimneys were replaced by more pretentious dwellings, better farm buildings began to appear, more machinery was purchased, the cayuses and the gaunt range cattle were weeded out to make room for better livestock. Along all lines we sought to improve the general equipment and thus add to the farm's efficiency. Each year brought much progress and some failure. There were hard winters and years of drought. There were good times and hard times, but these were just the incidents common to the life of every community. We weathered them all—and today are proud that our little corner is a worthy part of the "Great Northwest."

In passing along any one of the numerous fine highways of which our county boasts today, one meets occasionally an old pioneer slipping smoothly along in his high powered motor, and there comes to mind a picture of that same traveller, thirty or forty years ago, toiling along that same highway, over a rough rutted course, that could only by the greatest courtesy be called a road, with his jaded cayuse team and lumber wagon, creeping along with the summer sun blazing down upon him or the howling blizzard of winter buffetting, beating him pitilessly, and the biting cold freezing him to the very bone. Picture the contrast, dear reader, and rejoice in the progress of forty years.

In all the years to come we will be found working together for all that makes for development and betterment along all lines, for in such unity alone, can there be real progress. We know that each coming year is better than the last, and all unite in the wish that good old Asotin County may see many of them.

Another of the most prominent of the early families of Asotin County is the Clemans family. A daughter of that family, now well known in Asotin city as Mrs. Lillian Clemans Merchant, was for some years a teacher, and then the superintendent of schools. We are glad to present here a valuable and entertaining account of the early schools of Asotin County from Mrs. Merchant:

BEGINNINGS OF SCHOOLS IN ASOTIN COUNTY

By Mrs. Lillian Clemens Merchant

The writer was not among the earliest settlers of this portion of Washington, having reached the county in the autumn of 1885, although the schools and school systems of the county were still in the embryonic stage, we having enjoyed the privilege of attending school in the first schoolhouse in the county, a little log building 12 by 14 situated about one-half mile from Anatone.

This seat of learning had one window on either side and was furnished as follows: A few rude desks of varying sizes fashioned from rough lumber but soon worn smooth by the activity of the children by whom they were occupied, a long bench made of a hewed log with eight upright pieces driven into it for legs, being used as recitation bench, a small crude table constructed from native wood served for the teacher, a few planed boards painted black in the rear of the room sufficed for a board, a piece of sheep-skin tacked on a block of wood served as an eraser, while a small box heater occupied the center of the room.

Many of the children rode cayuse ponies to school, staking or hobbling them in the open, that they might feast on the tall bunch grass that was so abundant. School was held only during the spring and summer months. On rainy days the riding equipment was of necessity brought into the schoolhouse. The odor emanating from them and the huddled groups of wet children and the lunch pails made a peculiar combination of odors, but in those days we knew nothing of germs. Children were taught to value the privilege of attending school as almost sacred. A year's work was frequently done in a term of three or four months, much stress being placed upon the three R's.

These pioneer children represented many nationalities. One family in the locality were direct descendants of the Wadsworth family of New England to which the poet Longfellow belongs. There were many of Indian blood. One of these young Indian women of distinguished lineage (half breed) grew to womanhood with us. Later losing her father, her mother having died in the girl's infancy, upon opening of the reservation of the Nez Percés, secured her allotment and was persuaded by the teachers of the Indians to attend Carlisle, which she did. But in recent years we happened to be at the interstate fair, and walking into the main pavilion where an Indian baby show was being held, there we saw our schoolmate, a proud and happy mother wrapped in the regulation blanket with the "blue ribbon" pinned on her dusky babe which she held in her arms. Recognition was mutual, but owing to the natural reserve of her race we secured no explanation of conditions.

Fortunately in those early days requirements for securing a teacher's certificate were not rigid, so teachers were plentiful but none qualified to teach beyond the grammar school work, necessitating a removal for high school work which could be ill afforded at that time. At Lewiston, Idaho, about twenty miles distant the Methodist Church established a so-called college which flourished for a time. Many of the young men and women of Asotin County availed themselves of the educational advantages offered by it.

As soon as the normal school at Cheney opened its doors Asotin County was represented, but in order to go there the student was compelled to leave Anatoneat 7 A. M., reaching Asotin four hours later and from there another stage was taken which connected with the Uniontown stage in Lewiston, Idaho. About 2 P. M. the Uniontown stage, now designated as a wild-west stage coach, being drawn by six to eight horses, carrying often fourteen to sixteen passengers, took the timid student in charge and transported him as far as Uniontown. It being dark and the train not leaving until morning a stop was made over night. The train was boarded the next morning for Spokane, a stop of a few hours in that thriving little village, and then off to Cheney which was reached later in the afternoon, thus making two days for the trip. But the influence of the splendid men and women in charge of the normal and the excellent opportunities offered the student over his environment in his home county was a splendid recompense for the sacrifice he had to make in leaving Asotin County home folks and friends. But the return of the student and his entry into the teaching profession where he was given a royal welcome by all neighbors and old friends made him feel once more that the effort was more than worth while.

The association of the teachers with the parents in these communities was close indeed. It was the good fortune of the teacher to be entertained over night in every home, although humble, thus acquiring first-hand knowledge of the environment of every child under his or her supervision. It was also the teacher who set the example for the young people in the community thus almost invariably improving the moral status. The teacher was often the Sunday school superintendent or called upon to direct the community choir or was instrumental in organizing debating societies or spelling schools, thus again coming in close contact with the entire neighborhood. Out of this association many friendships were formed that counted for much in the later development of the county. The remuneration received by these teachers rarely exceeded forty dollars per month, many receiving less, but these faithful teachers who still remain in the county in various walks of life have the satisfaction of thinking that their work was appreciated when they observe the places these pioneer children occupy in the county.

The county school superintendent was also an efficient factor in those early days. He might be justly compared to a missionary. Every school board and likewise patrons of the district looked to him for close supervision of the work, as also did every teacher expect in him a high tribunal for the settlement of difficulties that occasionally arose through some misunderstanding.

Since the organization of the county the office of county superintendent has been held by both men and women, as to service about equally divided. Speaking from a woman's standpoint, school visitation in early days in the county was not an easy matter. The roads were extremely poor, schoolhouses far apart, many of which were not accessible by vehicle. One was compelled to drive until the road ceased to be fit for travel or terminated abruptly, at which time the team was converted into saddle horses when the journey was continued. Arduous indeed! was the trip but one was fully repaid when some homesick teacher brightened under the encouragement given and the children put forth an extra effort to make their school the best in the county in attendance or improvement along some line designated by the superintendent, the result to be passed upon by that officer upon the next official visit. Some of the children in these isolated districts were twelve and fourteen years old and never had the privilege ofbeing inside of any public building except their own little schoolhouse, had never had the pleasure of spending a dime. These hardy pioneers always shared their best with the superintendent. We recall one of the young women superintendents having gone out for a survey of the rural schools being entertained in a home over night where the only bed in the home was a bunk nailed up to the side of the wall and filled with straw. This the hostess and her three months' old baby shared with the visitor, while the husband went to the barn loft to sleep. This young woman so hospitably entertained was made to feel in this humble home that those people struggling against poverty knew she was interested in the development of the various districts and always had the loyal support of every one in those communities. All worked for the common aim—the betterment of local conditions.

In early days it was not out of the ordinary for Indians to appear at the farm houses demanding a meal. One incident has been brought to our knowledge where two blanket Indians went into a house asking for a meal in almost unintelligible English, but during the progress of the meal one of the girls of the family was murmuring a few German phrases which she had learned from a neighbor, whereupon the younger of the two Indians asked in splendid English why she had not learned the languages when young. It developed that he was able to converse in five languages, being a college graduate, while at this time Asotin County's children had no advantages above the grammar grades. But let it be said to the credit of these pioneer children who are the fathers and mothers of the present younger generation that they made good and are seeing that their children are getting the best the great state offers educationally.

Thirty years have brought vast changes educationally—classical, industrial and literary courses having been added to our systems, the schools having been inspected and placed upon the accredited lists of the state. Children are provided free transportation to and from schools; hot lunches are provided; buildings equipped with splendid heating systems and sanitary conditions are generally observed. Teachers are paid excellent wages and are well prepared for their work. The county superintendent is provided with an automobile for visitation of schools which are practically all reached by an excellent system of highways.

As an outcome of this superior development many of our young men are holding positions of trust in the present crisis, in the service of Uncle Sam both at home and abroad.

Would we return to the old conditions and times were we given our choice? We love to dwell upon the early times, the struggles, the happy hours, to think of those who were friends during those trying years, but we wish our county to keep pace with the progress of the whole Northwest. So we, in the future, as we have done in the past, as loyal united citizens, will boost for the educational, spiritual and civic growth of Asotin County.

We have given the personal reminiscences of pioneers of Walla Walla and Asotin counties. We are now giving something of the recollections of the first woman in what is now Columbia County, one of the pioneers of 1859, Mrs. Margaret Gilbreath:

S. L. Gilbreath and I were married at Albany, Ore., in March, 1859, and started at once for Washington Territory with a band of cattle, one wagon and team, and three herders.

At the Cascade Mountains two other men, John Wells and Tom Davis, with a wagon and cattle, joined us. We soon found it impossible to hurry on with the wagons, so they were left behind until the road was opened, the rest coming on with the stock. Pack horses carried the camp equipment. It was hard work opening up the trail on account of fallen trees and deep snow. We camped on Butter Creek and sent two men on to find suitable grazing land for our cattle. They returned in a few days reporting that good land with plenty of bunch grass could be homesteaded on the Touchet River. Having succeeded in bringing up our wagons under much difficulty, we continued on our way to Walla Walla.

Captain Dent, commander of Fort Walla Walla, stopped us and insisted that we settle near Walla Walla. We could not do this as the horses of the garrison had eaten all the grass from the range and we were looking for good pasture.

We inquired of the captain if we would be safe from the Indians if we went to the Touchet Valley. He assured us that the Indians were peaceable, which Mr. Gilbreath believed as he had served as volunteer through the Indian wars of 1855 and 1856, and knew of the Nez Percés fighting and scouting for the whites through the war. We found them always friendly, unless they had been drinking.

Leaving Walla Walla we proceeded on our way to The Crossing, which is now Dayton, reaching there August 27, 1859.

Mr. Stubbs, whose real name was Theodore Schnebley, lived here in a log house with his squaw wife. He sold whiskey to the Indians, thereby causing the whites much trouble. In coming into the Valley of the Touchet we left the Indian trail and came down a ravine, in some places having to shovel out places in the ravine to keep the wagons from turning over. These wagons were the first brought into the Touchet Valley.

The next day, after our arrival at The Crossing, we started to build a corral for the cattle, but discovered a den of rattlesnakes. After killing ten we decided to move down the valley to a fine location near a big spring of pure water. This land we homesteaded.

The Indian chiefs were frequent visitors at our cabin, calling soon after we came. Timothy and Lawyer and their friends sometimes sent messengers on ahead to tell us they were coming to dine with us. We would hasten to get ready a good meal for we thought it best to keep them friendly.

Many times we expected trouble from them. Once they rode up the trail shouting and firing off their guns. That night they burned the house of Mr. Stubbs. Sometimes they would imitate wolves howling and slip up near the house to see if there was a man there to know whether to scare the white woman or not.

Several times they would run a beef into the woods and kill it, carrying home the meat. One night when the Indians had been drinking and were giving us a great scare, two men hunting cattle and Reverend Berry, who preached at ourcabin once a month, happened to be there. We were certainly glad to have company.

One day Mr. Gilbreath was plowing rye grass with oxen when Reverend Berry came riding up. He stopped his work and waited for Mr. Berry to come up to him, then said, looking at his clothes and general appearance, "A Methodist preacher, I suppose." "Yes, I am," was the reply. "Well, go on to the house. My wife is a Methodist and will be glad to see you." Reverend Berry preached in our cabin all that fall and winter of 1859 and 1860. His congregation consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Herren, Mr. Stubbs and his dusky wife, Mr. Gilbreath and I, and men who happened to be in the neighborhood. Mr. Berry afterward made his home in Walla Walla for some years.

Whiskey Creek was so named because a band of outlaws made this region their rendezvous, selling whiskey and stealing cattle. Their names were Bill Bunting, John Cooper, Bill Skinner, George Ives and several others who were later hanged in Montana for crimes. The authorities there evidently knew their business, for these were the men who caused the Vigilantes to organize against them. Many prominent men took part in ridding the new country of these undesirables, among them Anderson Cox and J. W. McGhee. It was said that in dealing with the thieves Mr. McGhee said to George Ives who was up for trial: "George, we want you to leave, and we want it to be a long time before you come back." Mr. McGhee's deliberate way of speaking evidently carried weight, for George left.

The first crop of wheat in the Touchet Valley was raised on the land of Israel Davis on Whiskey Creek. He was leaving for the Willamette to buy sheep and Mr. Gilbreath harvested the wheat by cradling, and threshed it out by horses tramping on it. One night a wind came up and Mr. Gilbreath and hired man got up out of bed and began the work of cleaning the eat by pouring pails full of it from a scaffold to the ground. In this manner over a thousand bushels were cleaned. This was intended for seed for the coming year, but the hard winter of 1861 and 1862 followed when food for man and beast became so scarce that most of it was sold to the needy for food, and to keep the teams from starving. Some of the settlers ground the wheat in coffee mills and used it as porridge. We sold our wheat for $2 a bushel. We could have sold at any price but Mr. Gilbreath would not take advantage of their great need.

This was the most terrible winter ever experienced in the valley. The snow drifted so deep that many of the cattle were frozen standing up. Out of 300 of ours two cows and a calf, which we fed, were left. The timber wolves killed a good many cattle that winter. One day a wolf attacked a calf and the mother heard the cry of distress coming from some distance. When she reached it, the wolf was starting to devour the body. The cow fought it from the calf for a day or two, making the most piteous cries. Other cattle smelled the blood and came bawling for miles around. The sound of hundreds of frenzied cattle bawling will not soon be forgotten.

We were fortunate in having plenty of supplies that winter, as we had prepared to send a small pack train to the mines at Elk City. The deep snow made it impossible to get supplies, so the neighbors called on us, and our stores were opened to feed them. Our stock of food was divided among thirteen families. The snow was so deep that only a narrow trail could be kept open to Walla Wallaby miners coming to and from the Idaho mines. The snow lay on the ground until March, and in shady places until June. We had to go to Walla Walla in the spring and buy barley for seed.

Miller and Mossman who ran a pony express to the mines, stopped at our cabin for meals, and for exchange of horses. Their saddle-bags were often loaded with gold dust. Joaquin Miller, who is now known as one of our best western poets, was then a rough frontiersman, dressed in buckskin.

Having moved to a new log house, school was held in our cabin in the spring of 1862. Five or six children attended. Mr. Harlin, an Englishman, was the teacher, and he stayed with us.

Another school was taught in 1863 in the Forrest brothers' cabin. These men were brothers-in-law of Jesse N. Day, who later founded Dayton. Frank Harmon was the teacher and A. W. Sweeney of Walla Walla was the first county superintendent.

Reverend Sweeney organized a Cumberland Presbyterian Church at Waitsburg. Among others, Mr. and Mrs. Long and daughter and Mr. Gilbreath and I were charter members.

Our first child who died in infancy was the first white child born in the territory now included in Columbia, Garfield and Asotin counties. The oldest living person born in this territory is Mrs. John Steen, daughter of George Miller.

I was the only white woman in this territory for two months, until Lambert Herren and family came and settled near. Mrs. Robt. Rowley, who was two months old at that time, is the only living one of the Herren family of eight children.

Mrs. Herren was a typical pioneer woman, fearless and kind-hearted, nursing me and others in times of sickness, in the absence of a physician. When the Indians threatened me, I sent for her and she came with shotgun and indignation, and rescued me.

Great changes have taken place since those early days, and many incidents of vital interest to us then have been forgotten, but the kindness and simple living of the early settlers are not easily forgotten.

We have had occasion in this volume to make frequent reference to Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Pomeroy, founders of the town named from them.

One of their daughters, now Mrs. Peter McClung, living still in her home town, was the "first child" in Pomeroy now living there. She has kindly given us a short sketch of what might well be called the atmosphere and the feeling of her childhood home.

We are pleased to include it here as the closing contribution of this chapter of memories.

RECOLLECTIONS OF POMEROY

By Mrs. Peter McClung

To write a story of my experience as a child on the land now occupied by the town of Pomeroy will not require extended space. Days were much the same with the three children of the Pomeroy family isolated from neighbors by distance measured in many miles. Being the youngest of the three children myamusements were in large measure directed by my brother, who was my senior by four years, and my sister, the oldest of the trio.

My earliest recollections recall the counting of the election ballots at our home which was the precinct voting place for the half dozen votes then polled here. It was my great privilege and delight to sit beside my father, for many years one of the members of the election board, and listen to the humdrum tones of the men's voices as they uttered the words that made for the success of some doughty pioneer with political ambitions, or the defeat of one who had fallen a victim to the solicitations of over-zealous friends.

For several years my father cast the only republican ballot in the precinct. I soon reached an age that enabled me to comprehend that fact and know its significance. Our voting precinct contained many thousand square miles—bounded on the south by the Blue Mountains, on the north by the Snake River, on the east by Idaho and on the west by the Touchet River. I sometimes wonder if the deep interest I now feel in all elections and campaigns is not in part due to my early experiences wherein the heat of the neighborhood contests centered about me.

My play time was long and often lonesome, the same, I suppose, as that of other pioneer children reared in the interior of this semi-arid region. Great was my pleasure when I was allowed to ride my pony over the hills after cattle, or to follow my brother on a hunt for prairie chickens or ducks. When my father's two greyhounds, "Peggy" and "John," made one of their frequent raids on the then ever-present coyotes, with the rest of the family my cup of happiness was near the point of bubbling over. Old "Rero's" peculiar bark warned us of the near approach of predaceous animal or bird.

The Pataha Creek then teemed with fish and angling occupied much of my time. The great birds' nests in the trees that fringed the streams, the cubby-holes of the animals along its banks, the caverns in the granite-ribbed Pataha hills, in the fancy of a child, contained wonders impenetrable, yet much there was revealed. With the beginning of the town began a new life for me.

We insert at this point a notable speech upon a notable occasion by one of the most distinguished citizens of Walla Walla, who is also one of our Advisory Board, and whose support and suggestions in the preparation of this work have been of utmost value.

This is Governor Miles C. Moore, last Territorial Governor. Upon his retirement on November 11, 1889, he delivered the following address, one eminently worthy of preservation in the literature of the State of Washington.

ADDRESS OF EX-GOVERNOR MOORE

Ladies and Gentlemen: A custom has grown up here at the capital city and crystallized into unwritten law, which requires the retiring governor to deliver his own valedictory, and also to salute the incoming administration. In accordance with that custom I am here as the last of the race of territorial governors to say "Hail and farewell." Hail to the lusty young State of Washington, rising like a giant in its strength; farewell to old territorial days. It is an occasion for reminiscence, for retrospection. To those of us who have watched at the cradleof Washington's political childhood, this transition to statehood has its pathetic side. It stirs within us memories of the "brave days of old." The past rises before us.

We see again the long line of white canvas-covered wagons leaving the fringe of settlements of the then western frontier, through tear-dimmed eyes we see them disappear down behind the western horizon, entered upon that vast terra incognita, the great American desert of our school days. At last we see them emerge, after months of weary travel upon the plains of eastern Washington, or, later, hewing out paths in the wilderness, striving to reach that "Eden they call Puget Sound." Hither year after year came the pioneers and builded their homes and planted the symbols of their faith upon the banks of your rivers, in the sun-kissed valleys of your inland empire, under the shadows of your grand mountains, and upon the shores of this vast inland sea.

Very gradually we grew. The donation act passed by Congress in 1850, giving to each man and his wife who would settle thereon a square mile of land in this fertile region, attracted the first considerable immigration. It also probably saved to the United States this northwest territory. The entire population, which at the date of organization as a separate territory, in 1853, was 5,500, had grown to only 24,000 in 1870, and to 67,000 in 1880.

Still with an abiding faith in the ultimate greatness of Washington, and the attractions of her climate, when her wealth of resources should become known, the old settler watched through the long years the gradual unfolding of these resources, the slow increase in population. At last the railroad came, linking us with the populous centers of civilization. They poured upon us a restless stream of immigration. A change came over the sleepy old territory. These active, pushing emigrants, the best blood of the older states, are leveling the forests, they are delving in the mines, they are tunneling the mountains, they are toiling in the grain fields, they are building cities, towns and villages, filling the heavens with the shining towers of religion and civilization.

The old settler finds himself in the midst of a strange new age and almost uncomprehended scenes. The old order of things has passed away but your sturdy self-reliant pioneer looks not mournfully into the past. He is with you in the living present, with you here today, rejoicing in the marvelous prosperity visible everywhere around him, rejoicing to see the empire which he wrested from savage foes become the home of a happy people, rejoiced to see that empire, emerged from the condition of territorial vassalage, put on the robes of sovereignty.

We are assembled here to celebrate this event, the most important in the history of Washington, and to put in motion the wheels of the state government. Through many slow revolving years the people of Washington have waited for their exalted privileges. So quietly have they come at last, so quietly have we passed from political infancy to the manly strength and independence of statehood, that we scarce can realize that we have attained the fruition of our hopes.

Let us not forget in this hour of rejoicing the responsibility that comes with autonomy. Let us not forget that under statehood life will still have woes, that there will still be want and misery in this fair land of ours. To reduce these to the minimum is the problem of statesmanship. The responsibility rests largely with our lawmakers now assembled here. A good foundation has been laid in the adoption of an admirable constitution pronounced by an eminent authority"as good as any state now has and probably as good as any will ever get." Upon this you are to build the superstructure of the commonwealth by enacting laws for the millions who are to dwell therein.

You have the storehouse of the centuries from which to draw, the crystallized experience of lawmakers from the days of Justinian down to present times. To fail to give us good laws will be to "sin against light." "Unto whomsoever much is given of him shall be much required." The eyes of all the people are upon you. It is hoped and confidently expected you will bring to the discharge of your duties wisdom, industry and lofty patriotism; that when your work is done it will be found to have been well done; that capital and labor will here have equal recognition and absolute protection; that here will arise an ideal commonwealth, the home of a race to match our mountains, worthy to wear the name of Washington.

Now that I am about to surrender my trust and return to private life, I desire to testify to my grateful appreciation of the uniform kindness, forbearance and courtesy accorded me by the people of Olympia, and by all the citizens of Washington, it has been my good fortune to meet during my brief term of office. I shall always cherish among the pleasant experiences of my life the seven months passed here as Washington's last territorial governor.

To your governor-elect you need no introduction; if not a pioneer, he is at least an old settler. It is a graceful tribute to this class that one of their number was selected to be the first governor of the state. It affords me pleasure to testify to his thorough and absolute devotion to its interests. His every thought is instinct with love for the fair young state. I bespeak for him your generous co-operation and assistance.

With Governor Moore's address as last Territorial governor, this volume may fittingly close. The development of the Territory there so vividly summarized by him, has continued and has indeed exceeded all forecasts during the twenty-eight years of statehood, from 1889 to 1917.

BIOGRAPHICAL

Back to Index Next