# Oregon Historical Quarterly/Volume 4/An Object Lesson in Paternalism

AN OBJECT LESSON IN PATERNALISM
Even among those who have devoted their lives to the study of sociological problems, there is much difference of opinion as to the quantitative and qualitative influence of certain social conditions in producing the generally admitted bad or adverse phases of human society.
At one time we read that poverty degrades men morally, and we peruse carefully prepared and apparently veracious tables showing that in the older countries there is an unfailing correspondence between criminal statistics and the price of bread; the per cent of offenses against persons and property increasing with the cost of the necessaries of life and diminishing with the amount of human exertion required to obtain them. Such is the generally received opinion of the common people, and we hear from the political platform and see in the publications of reform parties the assertion that it is useless to preach morals to those whose minds are mainly occupied in devising means to keep the wolf from the door.
Those of our citizens who have given special attention to the debauching effects of the drink habit, call upon all to come to the rescue of American homes and American institutions, by banishing the American saloon, to which comes the response that poverty is the principal cause of intemperance and its incidents, and that the first duty of patriots is to remove poverty.
Equally certain and circumstantial, on the other hand, are those who affirm that there is no necessary connection between poverty and criminality, and that, as a general rule, debauchery and consequent decadence of moral faculty go hand in hand with material prosperity; and if mixed coincidence can establish casual connection, they ​are not at fault, for long before Goldsmith wrote of the time "When wealth accumulates and men decay," keen eyed observers had connected a general laxity of morals with the abundance and diffusion of wealth. The failure of intertropical countries to furnish high grade men of morals and intellect, Doctor Draper attributes, not more to the enervating influence of heat, than to the ease with which human beings supply themselves with the necessaries of life. Coming down to the present period, it is common knowledge—the expanding profligacy and criminality of the mining camps where men could obtain extravagant wages in gold for services which in other pursuits would yield them a scanty living.
Probably from such lump comparisons and crude observations, under complex conditions, have arisen two schools of social economists, one whose principal and primary aim is to abolish poverty as the chief obstacle in the way of human progress, and the other whose purpose is not definitely stated, but which conservatively clings to the laissez faire doctrine of letting every man's condition depend upon his individual exertion; and as so far, in the world's history, poverty has been the condition of the great mass of mankind, in spite of individual exertion, the anti-poverty school of necessity, must resort to collective or state control of the industries of men, and thus relieve them from want and the fear of want, which are thought to be so depressing upon their energies.
​In fact, collectivism is entered upon the moment the state is organized, for in the rudest criminal code there is a manifest attempt to relieve the individual from the otherwise caution and care necessary to defend his person and property; and in truth, as government has advanced, so has collectivism advanced, until now in the United States of America the commonwealth is giving children primary education, supporting and caring for the deaf, blind, idiotic, insane, and criminal classes, beside stimulating certain industries with bounties upon production or relieving them from the disastrous effects of free competition, by levying taxes upon competing products. It does much more. Commerce and agriculture have been relieved of their old time dread of the elements, for government now keeps watch and ward over the wind and waves, and gives timely notice of approaching disaster by land and sea. In the endeavor to pass benefits around, hatcheries for fish, experiment stations, laboratories, and various commissions have been organized and conducted at public expense; likewise the mails are carried, the public lands distributed to actual settlers or given to railroad companies, patents issued to inventors, bounties paid for the destruction of wild animals, noxious weeds exterminated, public officers appointed to examine food products, to conduct experiments upon flocks and herds, and to destroy those infected with contagious diseases.
All this and much more are the results of collectivism, and there seems to be a constant tendency, as well as a constant demand, for more in the same direction. Individualism is alarmed and socialism hopeful; the former, at the encroachments upon personal liberty and the discouragement of personal exertion, and the latter, from the prospect of a complete disappearance of the competitive principle from social life.
Here are two violent antagonisms, while there is no ​line of demarcation between them, as well defined as the most tortuous isothermal crossing the American continent. There is no scientific boundary of government. As between the two disputants it is a blind push and pull, in which neither party is satisfied with the result. There are gradations upon either side, and long ago Herbert Spencer became alarmed at the coming slavery, and that good man Gerritt Smith thought government should have nothing to do with the education of children; that it is altogether a private function and can not be usurped by the state without serious injury to those most nearly interested.
While, however, doctrinaires have been groping for the scientific boundary, government has gone forward experimentally, with no chart but experience, sometimes right and sometimes wrong, no doubt, in its endeavors to follow the line of least resistance and do that which seemed likely to promote the general welfare.
Granting the evident natural law that development is the result of activity of faculty, and, as a consequence, that individual improvement must come from individual exertion, it may be safe to say that the scope of government should be such as to give or permit the greatest normal and harmonious activity to the units of population, in order to bring about the greatest amount of aggregate excellence and happiness; and still it appears to be a matter of experience and experiment, in which science and altruism play but a subordinate part. Nevertheless, there should be investigation of governmental experiments, and the great and ever recurring question is, What do these show?
Has government help promoted individual competence, and has it promoted the general welfare? In answering this question it will not do to look at it as a whole; each experiment must be taken by itself, and there must be ​an elimination, so far as may be, of complicating and conflicting elements. Of course there will be no attempt in this paper to do more than report upon a single phase of government help, and one, too, which to my knowledge has never been utilized for throwing light upon the great economic question. I refer to the settlement of Oregon and Washington under government auspices. It would seem as though there never existed more favorable conditions for a successful experiment in planting a model colony than were found here upon this Northwest coast. Certainly nature was lavish and the government munificent, and if these are chiefly instrumental in putting a community on its feet to stay, here should be found the living proof. Let us see; and first as to the country.
The Cascade range of mountains, a high ridge bearing north and south, nearly parallel to the eastern shore of the Pacific Ocean and about one hundred miles therefrom, divides the states of Oregon and Washington into two unequal parts, popularly known as Eastern and Western Oregon and Washington. Bordering the coast of both states is another ridge, much lower, and between these two mountain ridges, are cross mountains connecting them, and forming valleys with independent river systems. These western valleys are but little above the sea level, have moist, equable climates, abundant timber, and rich soils; while the country east of the Cascades is an elevated table-land, sparsely wooded, quite arid, is subject to greater extremes of heat and cold and possessed of a strongly alkaline soil.
It is to the western valleys I wish to refer in this connection, as in these the donation land law chiefly operated until its expiration in the year 1855. Under that law every adult male citizen and his wife, immigrating to this coast before the year 1851, were entitled to six hundred and forty acres of land selected by the donees in ​such shape as they chose, and those coming after that time, were entitled to three hundred and twenty acres taken by legal subdivisions. Never before or since have such magnificent inducements been offered to settlers, and by the close of the year 1855 nearly all of the good lands in the Willamette, Umpqua, and Rogue River valleys were occupied by the donees who came from every State in the Union, but chiefly from the Mississippi Valley.
Saying that these lands were taken by families, in section and half-section tracts, gives but a faint idea of what was acquired. Doctor Johnson's description of the happy valley in Rasselas would be rather too poetical to adopt for this country, as this is too far north for people to depend upon the spontaneous productions of the earth, but in many respects there is much similarity. The great Doctor's fancy had not been expanded and enlightened by the vast accomplishments of modern science and invention, whereby the forces of nature have been utilized, and, as a consequence, his happy valley was constructed more to gratify an indolent and dreamy æstheticism than to promote economic industry.
In these western valleys, however, is everything that should stimulate men to the use of all their faculties, if steady and sure returns for exertion are better than unearned gratification of human wants and desires. Let the reader picture to himself an evergreen valley one hundred and fifty miles long and forty miles wide, a navigable river running the whole length, through its middle, with numerous branches on each side, the smaller rising in the foothills, the larger emerging from the forest covered mountains, the rich agricultural surface of the valley interspersed with timber and prairie in profitable proportions, and rising in gentle hills, among which are innumerable springs of pure, soft water, or subsiding into ​lowlands, here and there dotted by buttes, and he has the Willamette Valley, said by Saxe of Vermont to be the best poor man's country on the globe. This picture does not represent all its advantages by any means.
Probably no farming country known has water power so abundant and diffused as here. Niagara is unrivaled for power, but the principal question there is one of distribution. Here the problem of distribution is reduced to small proportions, for no village or city is far away from water power.
The Cascade Mountains, through their whole extent, are resonant with the clamorings of unused force, and likely, in their dark fir forests will first be realized Edison's dreams of the application of electric power,—trees felled, cut into saw logs and conveyed to the mill, with little of man's help except intelligent superintendence.
To be sure the first settlers of Oregon had no such anticipations as these, but they were not slow to perceive the advantages everywhere around them; sawmills were erected in advance of the great bulk of the immigration, so that immigrants were not required to go through the experience of the first settlers of Ohio and Indiana, housing one or two generations in log cabins.
No description of soil or surface or scenery can give an adequate presentation of this country, as upon the climate depends nearly everything which makes it, pre-eminently, a never failing supplier of man's wants. In this latitude, countries east of the Rocky Mountains have long cold winters and short hot summers, while west of the Cascades no such extremes are ever known.
The Kuro-shiwo of Japan, a broad, deep, and warm current of ocean water flows along our western shore, tempering the mountain air and covering the valleys with perpetual verdure. At this writing, the twenty-fifth of January, the fields have been once whitened with ​snow, cattle are pasturing upon unfrosted grass, and wild daisies are in bloom. Occasionally a cold wave from the north pushes seaward the tropical warmth, when for a few days the inhabitants get a mitigated sample of the arctic regions, but such incursions are few and far between,—say once in ten years, and not to be compared with the winter climate of Idaho, Montana, or the Eastern States. So seldom and short are the periods, when the ground is frozen, that agriculture is continuous through the whole year. In every winter month plowing is done and grain sown.
In what country, between the parallels forty-two and forty-nine north latitude, would cattle live through the winter upon grass, which was the dependence of those who crossed the great plains to this coast in the days of the pioneer? Arriving in these western valleys during the months of September and October, their teams worn and impoverished, were turned out upon the prairies and by midwinter were fat enough for beef.
Such was the country and the climate of the west coast to which the immigrants came, a land flowing with milk (no honey), beautiful and grand beyond description, rich beyond expectation, healthful beyond comparison; its streams abounding with fish, and its mountains with game; a country where there has been no failure of crops, and where blizzards, hurricanes, and cyclones are unknown.
Now a few words as to the character of the people who settled it, and in this examination I shall try to steer clear of the poetry and romance which are beginning to dehumanize them. It is not necessary for the purpose of this paper to show that the pioneers were more moral or more intelligent than those they left in the enjoyment of the peace and comforts of well regulated society, but it is important to know that they were a fair average in ​all respects as human beings, and as this question can not be determined by a personal examination, we must resort to the environment they voluntarily chose, or, in other words, to the objects and conditions which impelled them to the undertaking. The indolent and cowardly are not attracted by dangers, and hence we infer that volunteers make better soldiers than conscripts, and this inference is borne out by experience. Enterprises of great danger, forlorn hopes, are not chosen by those who love ease and quiet pleasure, but by the courageous and venturesome; those who take pleasure in overcoming resistance, surmounting obstacles, and braving dangers. The former are inclined to remain upon the old homestead, under the protection of law and the restraining influence of conservative public opinion; the latter push for the frontier, with apparent relish for the kind of life found only on the fretful edge of civilization. Some have assumed, therefore, that the borders are chiefly peopled by the reckless and immoral, those who would not be subject to proper restraint in the older communities; such an assumption, however, is wide of the mark. Under our flag there are no penal colonies; people go where they choose to go, and the currents of population are determined by self-selection. Places of trial and danger are taken by those who are not dismayed by such incidents, and unless we are willing to admit that there is a necessary connection between courage and criminality—that the enterprising and resolute are as a consequence tinctured with immoral tendencies—we shall believe what is more reasonable and in full accord with our experience, that the manly virtues are quite compatible with the moral attributes. I lived on the frontier, the Platte Purchase in Missouri, right among the people who contributed in men and money to the invasion of Kansas a few years afterwards, and I must say that I ​never lived in a more hospitable and law-abiding community. The forceful faculties were more prominent than in New England, but for personal honor, honesty, and brotherly feeling it would compare favorably with any portion of the United States. I had left that country when the Kansas troubles began, and was somewhat puzzled to reconcile the doings of the Border Ruffians with the character of the people as I knew them, but when I considered that a large majority of them were from the South, and, being born to the institution of slavery, were inheritors of all that such a state of society implies, I ceased to wonder.
Notwithstanding the great advance in biological science, the human being is very much of an enigma, and, however well disposed he may be from natural endowment, we can not guess what he may do until his previous environment has been examined. Suppose John Brown had been born and raised in the South, and had read his Bible through Southern spectacles, and had heard the Word expounded by devout defenders of the patriarchal institution, would he not have been found praying and fighting with Stonewall Jackson when the time came for war?
A large proportion of the pioneers were from Missouri, and at the time of the adoption of our constitution, which submitted the question of slavery to a popular vote, much solicitude was felt by anti-slavery men as to the result. Argument and inquiry were on the wing, and there was eminent opportunity, not only to learn the opinions and wishes of men but how those opinions and wishes came to be formed. Some of the ablest and best advocates of a free state were from the South and some of those who voted to fasten the relic of barbarism upon this free soil were from the North. One solid, earnest, but uneducated free state man, born and raised in Kentucky, and ​a resident of Missouri for several years just before coming to the Oregon Territory, was asked as to the evolution of his opinion and answered "that when living in his native State, a doubt as to the rightfulness of slavery had never crossed his mind; that he regarded abolitionists the same as horse thieves, and would have meted out to them the same punishment; that when he got to northern Missouri, where there were but few slaves, he was struck with the difference he felt and saw, as respects social conditions; people were more on an equality; that conservative deference paid to slaveholders was conspicuous by its absence, and when he got to Oregon, the spirit of abolitionism was in the air." He thought that if the good people of Kentucky could experience what he had they would clear slavery from that state in a year. I was intimately acquainted with that man for thirty years, and I am confident that I never saw one more honest and truthful, or one more ready to assist in reforms or more willing to be informed. Ignorance was his sin, as it was of the majority of those subject to the malign influence of slavery, and yet in his native State he was a possible border ruffian. What an honest, earnest man believes to be right he will defend, and for his convictions there is always a higher law to which he will appeal, notwithstanding the limitations of statutes and constitutions.
Though a Webster might lose himself in adoration of the Federal Union and an Everett offer up his mother a living sacrifice to preserve it, it is to the credit of human nature that human rights, human interests, human convictions and affections stand nearer and dearer to the people than any mere machinery of human government. The abolitionists believed the Constitution of the United States was a covenant with Death and a league with Hell, and they protested with all their soul and strength; to those Southerners reared to believe in the divinity of ​slavery, the Constitution was a worthless rag, for it did not protect them in their supposed rights. To the men of earnest convictions on both sides we owe our present disenthrallment.
The foregoing apparent digression has been indulged for the reason that the Oregon people were severely criticised and denounced in connection with our Indian wars, spoilation claims, and the votes cast in favor of slavery upon the adoption of our free constitution; and also for the reason that the aspect of character has a sociological bearing.
Advanced evolutionists include with their scientific shibboleth, "the survival of the fittest," an ethical element, when applied to civilized society. The early settlements here were singularly free from transgressors. There was no criminal code and no courts of law up to the time of the provisional government. Every man was a law unto himself, and it is said there was no offense against person or property of sufficient importance to require them. These were halcyon days, often referred to by old Oregonians, who say that crime and criminals were unknown until society was put under the tantalizing reign of law. I have heard not a few, in referring to the good old times, express the opinion that mankind are governed too much by statute and thereby released, in a great degree, from moral restraint.
There is occasionally an old settler so impressed with pioneer equality, fraternity, and purity, that he lays all subsequent social disturbance to the provoking interference of legal machinery with natural rights, and he longs "for a lodge in some vast wilderness" where he can end his days in peace, away from penalties and penal institutions and the temptations which civil government offers to the predatory instincts of men.
Such logical metonomy is not mentioned here except to ​show that the pioneers were lovers of peace and good order, and fully subject to enlightened moral restraint. As before mentioned, they were peculiar in one respect, that is, in the possession of a large share of the executive or heroic qualities.
The Great American Desert, with its sand stretches, waterless wastes, unbridged rivers, Rocky Mountains, and predatory savages, loomed up deterrently to the spiritless. A four to six months' journey in wagons, exposed to all the vicissitudes of travel and climate and the forays of more dreadful foes, ever on the alert to dispossess travelers of their only means of conveyance, was not to be considered a pleasure trip.
No doubt that to a certain but undefinable extent and in numerous ways, the circumstances and incidents to be expected on the overland journey were selective, and yet the Oregon Pioneer, as pictured by his eulogists, is rather a fanciful personage. Not that the incidents from which the picture is drawn are to any unusual degree false, but that there is too much of the commonplace left out, and so the typical pioneer, like the typical Yankee, is a caricature. The pioneers, as a body, were only a little different from those who were too affectionate or diffident to start, and among them were all sorts of people; but looking only to those who endured extraordinary privations, to those who developed an uncommon degree of strength, courage, and virtue, there have grown up the poetry and romance of the pioneers, and to none is this more evident than the pioneers themselves. At one of their annual gatherings, when an eloquent speaker was narrating the trying incidents of the overland journey, one of the earlier immigrants inquisitively remarked "I wonder if I ever crossed the plains?" I was querying the same; still we must not neglect to state that the speaker was dealing in facts. He was leaving out so much that ​those who had passed the ordeal wondered if they had ever been there. Indeed, the speakers and writers who have been called to the task of perpetuating pioneer history have had the usual inducements to false coloring, which has been the curse of all history in all times.
Striking incidents, battles, sieges, marches, insurrections, revolutions, and the leading actors in them, of such is the warp and woof of history, until man is understood to be a mere fighting animal, although the greater part of his life has been spent in peaceful avocations and the greater exertion of his force and faculties has been devoted to constructive industry.
Out of such partiality has inevitably grown the great man theory of human progression. The student of history passes along from point to point in the bloody trail of the historian, stopping at such characters as Alexander, Cæsar, Charlemagne, Napoleon, etc., until these great destroyers are looked upon as the prime factors of the evolutionary state. Of course, these and such as these must not be ignored or left out, for history would cease to be history without them, but it is equally important to know that man, judged only by them, ceases to be man. Of late an improved philosophy of history assigns them their proper place and significance as an index of evolution, and gives us the hopeful sign that notwithstanding the occasional irruption of man's destructive faculties, his progress is principally due to the subordination of the militant spirit. And now, while the principal part of our early history, territorial and state, is devoted to our really insignificant Indian wars and the principal characters on both sides, it is well enough to think that the greater constructive works of peace have been going forward with hardly a halt, and the more sober tints are yet to be given the picture of early Oregon times.
With such coloring as we now have of pioneer life and ​the passage of the great plains, posterity will wonder, as did the pioneer before quoted, if the pioneers ever did cross, and also what kind of people they must have been to undertake, with such slender means, so perilous a journey. Samuel R. Thurston, Oregon's first delegate under the Territorial Government, advertised his constituents as "fellows who could whip their weight in wildcats," very good electioneering taffy, no doubt, but rather strong and really degrading language to apply to the earnest men and women who so patiently toiled to the Northwest coast.
Of a higher type and tone was the poetical exaggeration "only the brave started, only the strong got through." The facts are different. Some arrant cowards and many more physically weak persons, by some sufficient means, found their way here. The emigrant train was not a forlorn hope; no such test was made for membership. Neither was it a test of patriotism; albeit every citizen is a quixotic propagator of his republican faith. Various were the inducements in the minds of those who left the older states for the Pacific Slope. Many, like ex-Senator Nesmith, did not really know, as they had no well defined purpose, but might answer in his language, and with probable truth, that they were "impelled by a vague spirit of adventure." Restless spirits are always ready for any move, promising unusual scope for the exercise of their faculties. Many were along to enjoy the exhilaration of travel, in a new, strange, and truly wonderful country. Many, long wasted by the miasmatic fevers of the overrich and productive Mississippi Valley, sought immunity in the untainted mountain air of the Far West. A few of the Daniel Boone stripe were too much crowded where inhabitants exceeded one to the square mile, and took one more move with the hope that the hum drum of civilization would never overtake them. A few of a ​poetical turn of mind, tired of the monotony of the greater East, sought fresh inspiration and a home upon the picturesque shores of the sunset seas.
But while all of the foregoing and many other inducements might have been present in varying degree, the great incentive to immigration was free land. Not only land for the landless, but land for all, and in unstinted quantity. The scenes at Oklahoma divest the emigration to Oregon of all mystery, and while there was probably small difference in kind or degree of virtue between those who came and those who remained, of one fact pioneers are cognizant, namely, that the incidents and trials of the overland journey were a wonderful developer and equalizer. The fictitious gloss of so-called society was abraded, and the shams of character in which human beings had invested themselves, like weakly oxen, were left on the road. Everywhere this is observable, and it is often remarked that the true pioneer is never afterward subject to an undue self-inflation. It seems as though a few months' practice of sincere brotherhood is fatal to an offensive amount of arrogance and egotism.
Now let us inquire as to the use and the tenacity of hold the pioneers had for their unbought possessions. There was no sign of indolence on their part upon arriving. The same pushing qualities which enabled them to surmount all difficulties in getting here were not wanting when homes were to be made and farms to be cultivated. To all appearances the older community, with an infusion of vigor born of success and adventure, had been transplanted upon virgin soil. Of necessity population was sparse. In large districts, principally settled by immigrants before 1851, there was but one family to the square mile, and in other portions were those arriving afterwards and settling two to the square mile. In this way a few people cover, or rather appropriate, a large ​country, and their improvements, though considerable, appear very meager. Every thing, however, was at hand; rail timber ten cuts to the tree; cedar for shingles and shakes; poles straight enough for rafters without hewing, and fir trees, seemingly grown for the special purpose of house frames. The soil was favorable. Though producing a good growth of the most nutritious native grass, it was easily plowed, two good horses being sufficient to turn over two acres of sod in a day, and, unlike the sward in other countries, was mellow from the first harrowing. Many a family coming as late as October plowed and fenced forty acres and raised from twelve hundred to sixteen hundred bushels of wheat the next harvest, working their cattle that hauled them across the plains and feeding them nothing but the bunch grass upon which they pastured through the winter months.
After the discovery of gold in California, the market for all farm products was at almost every man's door and at marvelous prices. Butter from fifty cents to a dollar a pound; bacon from twenty-five to fifty cents a pound; chickens from $5 to $10 per dozen; eggs from twenty-five to fifty cents per dozen; sheep from $5 to $12 per head; cows, $50; horses, $200; oxen from $100 to $200 per yoke; wheat from $1 to $7 per bushel, and labor from $2 to $5 per day. Of course, such prices gradually wore down, but the opportunity for large profits in farming and stock raising continued for a quarter of a century. Our public disbursements, however, were not on the same scale. Up to the year 1859 Uncle Sam paid a good share of the governmental expenses, and at that time our state government was organized under a constitution that has often been called parsimonious.
The sixteenth and thirty-sixth sections of each township, or lands in lieu thereof, were devoted by Congress to common schools; land was also given to found a state ​university and agricultural college, and five hundred thousand acres along with five per cent of the sales of public lands were given to an internal improvement fund to be used by the state. Add to this the swamp lands, amounting to several hundred thousand acres of the most valuable, all given without cost, and one might well ask, "in the name of common sense what more should a paternal government do for a people?" And yet it has done more. Coast defenses and lighthouses have been built, the rivers dredged, harbors improved, something near a million dollars appropriated to cut a canal around the cascade falls, and military roads and posts established to protect our inhabitants from the aborigines.
In common with all the other inhabitants of the United States, we have been suffering for the last few years from an aggravating increase of our great American industry, politics, but until the discovery was made, that people can grow rich by taxing themselves, the people of Oregon were contented with small levies for public purposes. Indeed, we have done little in the way of public improvements to create expense. With the exception of county roads, which are mainly ungraded dirt ways, and the bridging of streams, nothing of importance has been attempted.
In view of all the foregoing comes the sharp contrast of the present condition of the pioneers and their immediate descendants. In the absence of any reliable census reports, I have been obliged to rely upon regional inspection, taking a township here and there and tracing up the career of the first white inhabitants. For this purpose I have selected, for an average, one hundred square miles on the east side of the Willamette Valley, in Marion County, which contains the state capital, and an examination shows that sixty-six per cent of the donation claims have passed out of the possession of the donees and their ​descendants, another fifteen per cent are mortgaged for all they are worth, and for practical purposes may be considered as lost to them. Not more than fifteen per cent of the whole have been ordinarily successful in holding and improving a part of their possessions and are now free from debt. Only five of all of them have increased their holdings and are thrifty. Eighty-seven per cent held section claims, and it may be mentioned that the half-section claimants were more successful in holding their own, and add very much to the favorableness of this report. In the better part of this county, a hundred square miles in a body might be selected where the per cent of loss would be greater, but this was settled chiefly by French, Scotch, and English Canadians, mountain men and trappers of nomadic habits, who married Indian women of the whole or half-breed, and of whose descendants less is expected, as they are passionately fond of ardent spirits. A teetotaler of mixed blood would be a rare sight. Neighborly, clever people, of lax business habits, and of necessity trustful, they were soon beat out of their landed possessions. Probably in no American community has the credit system been so much in vogue as on this Northwest coast, and likely for the reason that in no other place are crops so sure, and certainly in no other place was a broad basis of credit so much at the disposal of debtors. A family with a section of land that produces unfailing crops at small cost, can get credit anywhere; and what a harvest it has been for merchants and middlemen in these western valleys until recently. Ah, man! you are, indeed, a wanting animal, one whose wants are ever multiplying and exacting. Only a few of the race are securely provident by immediate self-denial, and this truth applies equally to the pioneers, those resolute men and women—
Who kept step with the patient ox, And toiled by the rolling wheel, Drew success from the sand and rocks, As sparks from the flint and steel.
The heads of families did not so readily depart from their early habits of economy, but the children soon reveled in their magnificent possessions. Girls and boys alike became semi-nomads, or properly speaking, fell into the ways of the baronial English or the planter class of the South. As a consequence of their newly found competence and leisure "they took to horse," and strange, what a fascination comes over a human being when he takes to horse. In truth, that boy who did not admire the splendid aboriginal equestrians of the Great Plains and get filled with the spirit of the wild and free, as he saw them scurrying along the mountain side or sweeping down into the valley with the speed of the wind; that boy must have been an unchangeable clodhopper or a born philosopher.
Very few of them escaped the uncivilizing contamination, and many a youth, fresh from an unfinished course at school, had his book education cut sadly short by bestriding a cayuse and becoming a practical cowboy. The infatuation was not confined to the boys. The girls, too, had as much fondness for the noble brute, and were as expert and graceful in his management. Some of them have ridden seventy-five miles in a day. As a means of social communication at that time it had no equal; and for stock raising and the round-up in such a country, the horseman was unapproachable. Still, with all such advantages, and they were many, which could have been turned into permanent profit, the cowboy generation, though having a "heap of fun," and no doubt genuine pleasure, let the earth slip from under his feet. How could it be otherwise? Who could deny them? A party of boys and girls on their favorite steeds, the former in ​leggings, bell spurs, and the graceful sirrapa; the latter in the freshness of physical beauty and bedecked with flowing skirts and scarlet streaming sash—when such a cavalcade went galloping over the prairies with a speed that put to shame a Sheridan's ride, what parent could or would deny them.
Well, the parents did not deny them this and other diversions from gainful industry, and, little by little, the princely donations of land went into the till of the shopkeeper or the safe of the money changer. Landless and moneyless, they scattered over the country, and, as it were, dropped into all kinds of callings. Many of them have gone east of the Cascades and taken homesteads and pre-emptions in the arid regions, and there upon the bunch grass lands have gained a living and some a competence by stock raising and wool growing. Others followed up the streams into the mountains and in some narrow valley made a home away from the every day temptations of the lowlanders. Others went to the coast. Many of the young have found ample success in other avocations and do not regret the loss of the parental donations. They are found on the bench, at the bar, in the pulpit, in the governmental employ, in college faculties, and in all honorable pursuits. Only a few have ignobly failed, and those few do not invalidate the maxim that "where there is a will there is a way" for falling into the drink habit they lost their wills.
In conclusion, I am not willing to assert that the policy of the general government, in donating land as a reward for taking possession of this Northwest coast, was not a wise policy or that it was an injury to the donees, though in the main they failed to keep the gift, but the lesson is none the less valuable; and what is it but a confirmation of the general truth that "necessity is the mother of invention," the spur to exertion, and that ​success in this life is to be obtained only through the school of experience as the reward of continued and temperate effort. As there is no royal road to knowledge so there is no royal road to wealth or any other valuable acquisition; and it is not proper to confine this edict of fate to mere material things, although to be fed and clothed is the first and most imperious demand of nature. Man in all of his successful undertakings is an evolutionary being. Whether intellectually, morally, or physically considered, he keeps best what he has produced, what he has earned. As a hard and fast donee, he is not a success; as a beggar, he is disgusting even to himself. Sometimes he needs charity, but always justice.
T. W. DAVENPORT.