# All Over Oregon and Washington/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI.
TRIBUTARIES OF THE LOWER COLUMBIA.
Just above the Narrows, and opposite to the Oak Point of Captain Winship, is the modern Oak Point, which seems to have borrowed the name, and shifted it to the Washington side. The name is pretty and distinctive, and ought never to be changed, as it marks the western boundary of the oak-tree in Oregon and Washington. Between this and the sea not an oak-tree grows. The only business at or about Oak Point is that of the fisheries already mentioned, and the lumbering establishment of Mr. Abernethy, which was erected in 1848–9. It is run by water-power, and capable of manufacturing 4,000,000 feet annually.
About ten miles above Oak Point we come to the mouth of the Cowlitz River. Just below it is a high, conical hill, known as Mount Coffin. This eminence, together with Coffin Rock, seven miles above, on the Oregon side, formed the burial-places of the Indians of this vicinity, before the settlement of the country by whites. Here the dead were deposited in canoes, well wrapped up in mats or blankets, with their most valuable property beside them, and their domestic utensils hung upon the posts which supported their unique coffins. Wilkes relates in his journal, how his men accidentally set fire to the underbrush on Mount Coffin, causing a number of the canoes to be consumed, to the grief and horror of the Indians, who would ​have avenged the insult, had they not been convinced of its accidental occurrence. Memelose Illihee is the name which they gave to their burial grounds. Freely translated, it means Spirit country.
The Cowlitz is a small river, though navigable for twenty miles when the water is high enough, and about half that distance, at all times. It rises in Mount St. Helen, and runs, westwardly, for some distance, when it turns abruptly to the south. The valley of the Cowlitz is small, being not more than twenty miles long, and four or five wide. It is heavily timbered, except for a few miles above its mouth, where the rich alluvial bottom-lands are cleared and cultivated. No finer soil could possibly exist than this in the Cowlitz Valley. A few years ago, however, the town of Monticello, four miles from the Columbia, was all swept away in a flood. It has been replaced by a fresher edition of its former self, however, and looks as cheerful and ambitious as if it knew there could be no second deluge. Opposite Monticello is the old Insane Asylum for Washington Territory, in a location admirably adapted to confirm any incipient cases that may have appeared there. The asylum has recently been removed to Steilacoom, on the Sound—a very proper and delightful location.
This portion of the Cowlitz Valley does not depend alone upon its fertility for its future importance. There are extensive deposits of coal in the mountains which border the river, besides other mineral deposits which the North Pacific Railroad and an increase of population will eventually bring into notice. There is, too, an almost inexhaustible supply of the finest fir and cedar upon the mountains which hem it in.
The Cowlitz River, as might be conjectured, is a ​rapid stream, and cold from the snows of St. Helen. Its waters in summer, when the snows are melting rapidly, are white, from being mixed with volcanic ashes, or some disintegrated infusorial marl or chalk. A favorite voyage for travelers coming down from Puget Sound, is twenty miles of canoe travel from Pumphrey's Landing to Monticello. An Indian canoe, with Indians to steer, carries one rapidly and pleasantly down stream—while the excitement of passing the rapids, and the splendid scenery of the wild, little river, furnish entertainment.
So disguised in a luxuriance of trees and shrubbery is the mouth of the Cowlitz, that, when we are in the open Columbia, we can scarcely detect the place of our exit from it. Crossing over to the Oregon side we find ourselves at Rainier, where lumber is manufactured, chiefly for export. The location of Rainier is, in many respects, fine; but, at present, there seems to be little besides the lumber trade to give it business, though there are a few excellent farms in the vicinity. Any day in summer one may see at this place a picturesque group of natives hanging about the wharves, or paddling their canoes near the steamboat-landing. Should they have berries to sell, they will offer them to you in neatly woven baskets of cedar-bark, which you are welcome to keep if you purchase their contents.
Without tarrying long, we steam on up, passing Coffin Rock—another memelose illihee—a promontory of basalt sparsely covered with trees, which have found soil enough in the crevices to support a stunted growth. Along here, on the Oregon side, is a tract of level land, extending back from the Columbia for some distance. It answers to the depression of the Cowlitz Valley; and it is remarkable, that, wherever a stream comes into the ​Columbia large enough to be said to have a valley, there is on the opposite side a break in, or a curvature of, the. highlands, making more or less level country facing the valley which is perpendicular to it, so that the valleys of the streams may be said to cross the Columbia, and, even, to be widest on the opposite side. Somewhere in here the Claskenine, a stream with a fertile and partially cultivated valley, enters the Columbia from the Oregon side; but the entrance is hidden by islands and shrubbery.
While we are interested in observing the stretch of the river at this point, and noting the islands and bayous which make it difficult to determine its actual breadth, we have advanced several miles, and find ourselves abreast of Kalama, the initial point of the North Pacific Railroad, on the Columbia River. Already an energetic beginning has been made, and from this port to the Sound a railroad will be constructed within a year or two. The silent grandeur of the Columbia is to be made busy and vocal with the stir of human labor, and the shriek of "resonant steam eagles" that speed from ocean to ocean, bearing the good-will of the nations of the world in bales of merchandise. It is the dream of Jefferson and Benton realized—only could the latter have had his wish fulfilled to live until this day!
"In conclusion I have to assure you, that the same spirit which has made me the friend of Oregon for thirty years—which led me to denounce the Joint Occupation Treaty the day it was made, and to oppose its renewal in 1828, and to labor for its abrogation until it was terminated; the same spirit which led me to reveal the grand destiny of Oregon in articles written in 1818, and to support every measure for her ​benefit since—this same spirit still animates me, and will continue to do so while I live—which I hope will be long enough to see an emporium of Asiatic commerce at the mouth of your river, and a stream of Asiatic trade pouring into the Valley of the Mississippi through the channel of Oregon."—Letter of Benton to the People of Oregon, in 1847.
But Benton did not understand the geography of the coast; neither did he know much of the practical working of railroads in recognizing or ignoring any points but their own. He did not foresee the Central Pacific going to San Francisco, and the Northern Pacific to Puget Sound, and an emporium of Asiatic commerce at either of these termini, while a third great city distributed their commerce along the Columbia and its tributaries, from its mouth to its sources; and that third city ought to be somewhere within a dozen miles of the present initial point of the North Pacific.
Turning this thought over in our mind, we are struck by the coincidence as some one points out to us, within the dozen miles, a place on the Oregon side which aspires to be that future city. It is a pretty town-site enough, certainly, sloping gently back from the river, which here, for two or three miles, has a smooth, gravelly beach, instead of the more usual abrupt and rocky shore. As we turn to the view of Mount St. Helen, just here seen through the canyon of the Cathlapootle, or Lewis River, which rises in the snows of that mountain, we agree that the aspiring town-site must command a beautiful prospect, including in its range Mount Adams and Mount Hood, as well as Mount St. Helen.
An admiring word calls out some volunteer remarks ​from a fellow-passenger; and we ask, with augmented interest, what is claimed for this particular point. "In the first place," says our informant, "the Columbia River is the natural channel of commerce for the State of Oregon, as well as the southern border of Washington; for Idaho, and a portion of Montana. Its navigation is unobstructed from this point to the sea, which can not be said of it thirty miles farther up; besides, there are no good town-sites above the entrance of the lower Wallamet. The navigation of the river being easy, and safe for vessels of the largest size up to this point, is one good argument for us."
"Oh," we ejaculate, "you are interested in this place—what do you call it?"
"We call it Columbia City. Our view of the case," continues our informant, "is, that wherever the North Pacific Railroad has its crossing, there the greater portion of the domestic trade of Oregon will centre. The merchants of Eastern Oregon, Idaho, and Montana, in going to purchase goods, will not go by us, to San Francisco, or to the Sound, to purchase, if they can supply themselves just as well here, of which there can be no doubt. Direct importation by sea from New York, Canton, or the Islands, is just as easy here as to San Francisco, and only a few days longer from the first place. It is about two hundred miles nearer to China and Japan than any probable point on the Sound. It has to back it the great, fertile Wallamet Valley, and the country which contains it has fifty miles of river-front."
"All that sounds reasonable enough; but can the Columbia River compete with the Sound in the matter of safety? How is it about the bar?"
"There is not, nor ever has been, any more danger ​on this bar than that of San Francisco or New York. Since the pilotage system was established, there has never been an accident on the bar. It is safer than navigating the Straits in a fog. There is no advantage in having more water than you can use, and there is enough and to spare in the Columbia. The Sound is 'the finest inland body of water in the world,' but you can not build a city all around it—there is nothing to support it. Talk about lumber and coal, and other minerals! Why, we have got the same here. Talk about ship-building and navy-yards, and all that! We can build ships, too; and we have the iron, within a few miles of us, to build into iron-clads, and fresh water for them to lie in. There's fifty to seventy feet of water right across the river at our point—and a mile wide at that!"
"Granting all you claim, that you could compete with San Francisco and the Sound—are not the Idaho and Montana merchants going to buy the bulk of their goods in Chicago?"
"Well, we hope to prevent that by judicious management. What we claim is, that the soil and population are going to fix the centres of commerce; and these we have on the south side of the Columbia."
There is so much common sense in this proposition that we refrain from contradicting it, and inquire the name of the little town with the beautiful location, at which the steamer is stopping. "St. Helen." A pretty name, and a pretty place; but why do the Oregonians repeat their names so much: Columbia River and Columbia City; Mount St. Helen and town St. Helen? Why not let every thing have a name of its own?
This is an attractive spot. The rocky bank forms a sharp, clear line of frontage, of a convenient height ​for wharves. A second bench, considerably more elevated, is covered with beautiful firs, in the midst of which stands a neat, white church. The village is grouped below, and has an air of cheerfulness not common to embryo towns. Our steamer is lying alongside the wharf of a lumber-mill, of a capacity evidently greater than any we have heretofore seen along the river. The mill is a fine structure, and the wharves are piled high with lumber, which is being loaded upon a vessel bound for Callao. There are several stores near the landing, and a whole fleet of little boats beached on a bit of sand close by. This is evidently a trading post of some consequence.
We take pains to inquire into the business and history of the place. Its history is a little peculiar. "Hope deferred which maketh the heart sick" has been its fortune from first to last. As long ago as when Wyeth was trying to establish American commerce on the Columbia, he selected this spot for his future city, and it obtained among the first settlers the name of "Wyeth's Rock." Afterward it was claimed by a man named Knighton, who, holding the same view of it, laid it out in a town-site, having it properly surveyed, the streets named, etc. But Mr. Knighton entertained such exalted notions of the value of his lots, and of his ability to build up a town without assistance, that those men who would have "stuck their stakes" in St. Helen, in a fit of pique, turned themselves into all opposition party, and laid out the town of Portland. By wiser management than Knighton's, they succeeded in drawing away from him the business he thought himself able to secure—and the result is, a city of ten thousand inhabitants at Portland, and only a couple of hundreds at St. Helen.
​Such was the confidence in its future at the beginning, that the Pacific Mail Steamship Company built a wharf and warehouse here; stores and hotels sprang up; mills were built; and men were confident that their fortunes lay in this place. But, by and by, mysterious fires destroyed wharves, warehouse, and mill. The ocean steamer was forced to go to Portland; business died out; men became discouraged, and went otherwheres; and St. Helen was deserted by all except a faithful few, who never lost faith that time would bring all things right.
Six years ago the town-site changed hands, and the present large lumber-mill was erected by the St. Helen Milling Company, cutting from forty to seventy-five thousand feet in twenty-four hours. Two or three merchants set up general merchandising, and trade revived to such an extent as to rekindle hope in the hearts of the faithful few; and, now, St. Helen again asserts her claim to be considered "the best point on the Columbia River for a town." From all which it appears that Columbia City and St. Helen are rivals. As there is only a mile or two between them, it would not seem that their rivalry could be very fierce. Probably there will be, some time, an important town at or about one of these places.
St. Helen is the county-seat of Columbia County, and is situated at the junction of the lower Wallamet with the Columbia River. The country back of it, for about seven miles, is a series of benches, the first two or three of which are sparsely and picturesquely wooded, while the higher ones are well covered with timber. These benches are good farming and fruit lands, but not so fertile as the bottom-lands adjacent to the town-site—those of Sauvie's Island, and those on the ​opposite side of the Columbia—all of which country may be considered tributary to St. Helen, and, being well settled up, furnishes the present local trade of that place.
Scappoose Bay is a sort of bayou of the lower Wallamet, which sets back a distance of seven miles, and receives the waters of the Milton Creek—a fine waterpower which might be turned upon the town-site of St. Helen, or made to furnish water-works for that place. There are, also, some fine grazing farms along Scappoose Bay on land subject to annual overflow.
Extensive beds of the richest iron ore lie adjacent to the township; coal exists in the mountains, six miles back; water-power and timber are plenty; while ships, of any size that can come into the Columbia, can lie alongside the natural wharves of trap-rock, that will keep off, forever, any encroachments which the river might make on a shore of sand. The views from the town-site are beautiful—from the bench, just back, magnificent. Game abounds in the vicinity: black bear, deer, grouse, partridges, and quail in the woods, and trout in the streams.
The country lying opposite St. Helen is the finest on the lower Columbia. The Cathlapootle, or, Lewis River, rises in Mount St. Helen, and, flowing southwestwardly, falls into the Columbia opposite the town of St. Helen. This river is a small and rapid stream, whose waters are as pure, cold, and clear as their mountain-springs. The valley of the main, or north, fork of the Cathlapootle is a rich, warm tract of country, producing excellent grain, fruit, vegetables, butter, and honey. It also raises stock for market, to a considerable extent. The road, or cattle-trail, from the Wallamet Valley to Puget Sound, passes up this ​valley for some little distance. Annually, large numbers of cattle and sheep are driven to a market, on the Sound, by this trail, which, for want of a suitable ferry from St. Helen across, is not much used for wagons.
Another stream comes into the Columbia, within the sixteenth of a mile of the Cathlapootle. This is the Calapooya, or Lake River, which rises in a small lake near Vancouver, twenty-five miles to the east, and flows nearly parallel with the Columbia, until it empties into it. There is a large tract of excellent farming land along this river, also, most of which is already settled up. The farmers, from both these valleys, bring their produce to St. Helen to exchange for goods. The tide, at this point on the river, rises about four feet.
As we pass along up the Columbia from this point, we notice that the shores are level on both sides; for, here, within a distance of twenty miles, the Cathlapootle, Lake, and lower and upper Wallamet enter the great river. On the right is the fertile Sauvie's Island; on the left the bottom-lands, belonging equally to Lake and Columbia rivers—each shore densely wooded with Cottonwood, ash, and willow, while, at a distance of several miles back, on either side, we behold the fir-clad highlands. This continues, without variation, to the head of Sauvie's Island, where a group of small islands, at the mouth of the Wallamet, give grace and variety to the river-view.
Passing the mouth of the Wallamet, we find that we are actually passing the foot of the Wallamet Yalley, and that the flat country on the left extends all the way from the mouth of Lake River to the foot-hills of the Cascades; but, growing narrower as ​near the mountains, is but the continuation of the Wallamet Valley into Washington Territory, according to the rule before noticed for the tributaries of the Columbia. Though this level country is now covered with timber, it must, from its alluvial nature, when cleared, prove very excellent farming land. That portion of it nearest the river is subject to the annual overflow; but there is no difficulty in determining the limits of submersion, for, wherever fir-trees are found, there the high-water never comes.
At a distance of about six miles above the Wallamet we come to the town of Vancouver, on the Washington side. Tills place is beautifully situated on a sloping plain, with a strip of velvety-looking meadow land on its river-front. It is the old head-quarters of the Hudson's Bay Company in Oregon, where resided, for more than twenty-five years, the Governor and Chief Factors of that company, nominally holding "joint possession," with the United States, of the whole Oregon Territory, but, really, for the greater portion of that time, holding it alone.
Here lived in bachelorhood, or with wives of Indian descent, a little colony of educated, and refined men, who, by the conditions of their servitude to the London Company, were forced to lead a life of almost monastic seclusion. True, it happened sometimes that naturalists, adventurous travelers, and others drifted to this comfortable haven in the wilderness, and, by their talk, made a little variety for the recluses; and very hospitable they found them—ready to provide every civilized luxury their fort contained, without money and without price, so long as it suited thein to remain.
There are few traces now of the old, stockaded fort. ​When the British Company abandoned it, the United States Government took possession of it for a post; and, now, the traveler beholds scattered over the plain a town of a thousand inhabitants, and, bordering on it, the well-kept garrison grounds of the United States troops, with the neat officers' quarters encircling it.
Vancouver had, at one time, water enough alongside her fine wharves to accommodate large vessels easily; but, now, a sand-bar is said to be forming in front of the town, which is rapidly ruining her prospects of becoming an important river-port. There is, probably, no place along this low, alluvial land suited to the purposes of a large commerce. The changes likely to occur from the action of the annual flood on the sandy shores can hardly be calculated. Yet Vancouver must always remain the chief town of its county, and possess a good trade from the agricultural country back of it, which is already pretty well settled up, owning assessable property to the amount of a million of dollars.
Above Vancouver, for a distance of twenty miles, there are many beautiful situations all along on the Washington side, though the country is timbered heavily. The southern shore is lower: the Sandy—a stream coming down from Mount Hood—having its entrance into the Columbia above and opposite Vancouver, through alluvial, sandy bottoms. Beyond this the whole surface of the country becomes elevated, and we are among the foot-hills of the Cascade Mountains.