1,82 €
Mehr erfahren.
- Herausgeber: Charles River Editors
- Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
- Sprache: Englisch
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Seitenzahl: 146
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
Ähnliche
DAVID S. MAYNARD AND CATHERINE T. MAYNARD
Biographies of Two of the Oregon Immigrants of 1850
Thomas W. Prosch
LACONIA PUBLISHERS
Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.
All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2016 by Thomas W. Prosch
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DAVID SWINSON MAYNARD.: His Birth, Ancestry, Education.
His Marriage and Life in, Ohio.
Interesting Narrative of a Long and Perilous Journey.
Slow and Difficult Trips to South and North.
A Cargo of Cordwood; the First Convention.
In California in 1851.
Returns to Puget Sound.
Locates on Duwamish Bay.
Fish, Lumber, Land and Taxes.
New People; Monticello Convention; Divorces; King County.
Marriages; Yesler’s Mill; First Burial Ground.
Platting and Naming the Town; Selling and Giving Away Lots.
Seattle’s First Courts and Their Business.
The Treaty of Point Elliott.
The War of 1855-56; Maynard an Indian Agent.
Dr. Maynard Becomes a Farmer; Events of 1859-’60.
Return to Seattle; Business Efforts, Social Matters, etc.
Strives to Get Land Title; Loses Half of Donation Claim.
Death Claims and Removes the Pioneer.
Characteristics and Anecdotes of Maynard.
CATHERINE TROUTMAN MAYNARD: Born and Reared in Kentucky; Married in Illinois.
Migrate to Oregon; Cholera and Death on the Plains.
Life in a Primitive but Ambitious Town.
Romance and Marriage; Unfortunate Opposition.
Mrs. Maynard at Home in Seattle.
War; Life Among the Indians; Act of Heroism; Stories of Savages.
At Alki Point; in Town Again; Widowed; Free Reading Room.
Rounding Out a Long, Interesting and Useful Life.
Postscript—November, 1906.
DAVID S. MAYNARD
AND
CATHERINE T. MAYNARD
AND THEIR USES
BIOGRAPHIES
OF TWO OF THE OREGON
IMMIGRANTS OF 1850
THEIR BIRTHS—EVENTS OF THEIR EARLIER YEARS IN VERMONT, OHIO KENTUCKY AND ILLINOIS—DIARY NARRATIVE of JOURNEY ACROSS the CONTINENT—WITNESSES OF AND PARTICIPANTS IN THE BEGINNINGS OF WASHINGTON TERRITORY—RESIDENCE AT OLYMPIA—THEIR MARRIAGE—REMOVAL TO SEATTLE—FOUNDING AND NAMING A CITY—ITS DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH—LOTS NOW WORTH $40,000, $60,000 AND $80,000 SOLD FOR $5, $10 AND $20—A PHYSICIAN, A MERCHANT A FISHERMAN, A TEAMSTER, A BLACKSMITH A FARMER, A LAWYER, A JUDGE, A TOWN BUILDER, ALL IN ONE—COURT EXPERIENCES IN 1853-’54-’55-’56—WAR WITH THE INDIANS—LIFE AMONG the SAVAGES—the GUARDIANSHIP AND HELP OF A FRIENDLY CHIEF—A DANGEROUS CANOE TRIP—A HOME ON THE FARM—LOSS OF A DONATION LAND CLAIM—DEATH OF DR. MAYNARD—HIS CHARACTERISTICS—A WIDOW SINCE 1873—HISTORIC PIONEER FIGURE.
BY
THOMAS W. PROSCH,
SEATTLE, 1906
DAVID SWINSON MAYNARD.
HIS BIRTH, ANCESTRY, EDUCATION.
MARCH 22D, 1808, A CHILD was born at or near the town of Castleton, Rutland County, in the State of Vermont, to whom was given the name David Swinson Maynard, the middle name being the family name on the side of his mother. The Maynards and the Swinsons were of strong American stock. The two families had long been acquainted, having lived in the same neighborhood, fought in the same wars, educated and reared their children together, intermarried, and otherwise associated in the many ways incident to the life and times of the eighteenth century, first in the British Province and later in the young American possession and State in which their lots had been cast. It is related that one of the young Maynards and one of the young Swinsons, both of whom became progenitors of the boy referred to in the opening sentence, were impressed on a British ship, commanded by Capt. Burgoyne, at the outbreak of the Revolutionary war. When they signified their desire to go on shore they were forcibly detained, and were told that King George needed their services, and intended to have them, in putting down the rebellion recently inaugurated by their countrymen in Massachusetts and other Colonies. Swinson and Maynard counselled together, and at length succeeded in leaving the ship in the darkness, with nothing but their underclothing, barefooted, getting on land wet, cold and all but exhausted. A Scotch woman, who could talk Gaelic only, befriended them, and with her help they were enabled to reach the camp of General Washington, where both enlisted in the Continental army, in which they remained to the end of the long struggle then in the days of its beginning.
David S. Maynard had three sisters. All were educated as well as the schools of the day permitted. With the sisters, however, this memoir has no more to do. When his course in the schools had been completed, young Maynard began the study of medicine. Dr. Woodward was his instructor, the boy serving in the doctor’s office and giving general help while acquiring the information needed for the practise of his chosen profession. Upon completing his time and course the young physician was given a diploma, and for forty-four years following was in more or less active practice. Presumably his services were not much sought or richly compensated in the community where he had been reared, for he soon after moved west, settling in Lorain County, Ohio, and doing business in and near Cleveland, then a place of four or five thousand inhabitants, now a city with one hundred times as many.
HIS MARRIAGE AND LIFE IN, OHIO.
Before going to Ohio, tho, the student and doctor had adventures and troubles such as usually fall to the lot of active, promising young men. In his first love affair there was a misunderstanding and a failure. The young lady is said to have been most winning and lovable. In nowise discouraged, Maynard promptly paid court to another girl, and in 1828, on the 28th of August, at twenty years of age, he and Lydia A. Rickey were married. Shortly afterwards they left Vermont for the place on Lake Erie that has since become the seventh city in population in the United States. At the new home, a few miles west of Cleveland, two children were born to them—a son, Henry C, and a daughter, Frances J., who subsequently became Mrs. Patterson, and is still living.
There the couple dwelt more than a score of years. He was energetic, and he made efforts and investments in various directions. Of these the most notable was the establishment of a medical school, in which at one time were one hundred and fifty students. With him in this enterprise were Doctors Mauzey and Ackley. Beginning about that time and extending up to the period of civil war, there was much trouble with the currency, and in 1837 occurred a great financial crash and crisis, in which the business of the nation was rent and broken as never before, the effects upon the people being direful indeed. The banks were nearly all closed, few ever again being reopened, and the banks that succeeded them for twenty years had smaller deposits than had the banks that had failed in 1837. And this while Ohio was rapidly increasing in population. The resultant loss of confidence, the lack of money and the bad trade conditions generally prevalent made it exceedingly difficult for men to carry on their commercial undertakings. Especially was this true of men like Maynard, who were free and open-handed, helpful of others, careless of the morrow, and who were heavily leaned upon by acquaintances in the support of their schemes. Maynard became responsible for another man to the extent of $30,000. The business failed, and in the wreck Maynard was financially ruined. It was impossible for him there to recover, and he began to look longingly towards California as the region of future hope and wealth. In 1849 there had been a great rush of men by water and land to the new region of gold. In this he had been unable to join, but he now resolved to be among those who would go the following year. In coming to this determination he was moved also by the disaffection of his wife, whose nagging and faultfinding had become well-nigh unendurable. He collected such moneys as he could, simplified his affairs, and fixed his wife and two now grown children as comfortably as possible, leaving everything to them but the merest pittance. He might have gone to California more easily and quickly by steamer, but it would have cost him about five hundred dollars, and he felt that he could not afford it either on his own account or that of his family. He believed that he could work his way across the continent without money, by making himself useful to other immigrants, and that, under the circumstances, it was his duty to do this way if he went.
INTERESTING NARRATIVE OF A LONG AND PERILOUS JOURNEY.
Of the five months’ journey to the Pacific the Doctor left account in his diary, which is used in the pages following. It was evidently inconvenient to him to write, as the daily spaces were small, three to the page, and there was much to do on the way, but between the lines and the times much can now be seen and read that does not appear in letters and words upon the paper. The first entry is that of Tuesday, April 9, 1850, here given:
Left home for California. Passed through Norwalk to Monroeville. Took the cars to Sandusky. Saw a large eagle on the prairie. Passage, 75 cents. Paid to Drakeley, $4. Dinner and horsefeed, 75 cents. Total, $5.50.
There are no more entries until April 20th, at Cincinnati, from which it may be inferred that the traveler was about eleven days in making the trip across the State from north to south, probably on his horse, which he also probably sold at Cincinnati. The second and third diary notes are these:
April 20th.—Left Cincinnati at 4 o’clock on board the Natchez.
April 21st.—Arrived at Louisville at 10. Walked to New Albany, in Indiana, a place of about 7,000 inhabitants—Lockville. Saw James Porter, the Kentucky giant, 7 2-3 feet.
The Doctor journeyed on without making notes until the middle of May, by which time he had arranged fully for the long remainder of the trip. He had a mule, a buffalo robe, a gun, a few medicines, his surgical instruments and several books. He connected himself with a party, depending upon his wits, his professional skill, his talent for doing things, his good humor and his general usefulness wherever placed, to carry him through to the other shore in safety and reasonable comfort. That his ideas were correctly based is well known, and to a certain extent are portrayed in the narrative following from his own pencil:
Thursday, May 16.—Crossed the Missouri river at Saint Joseph, and encamped.
May 17.—Left camp about 11 o’clock, and went six miles. Passed the snake’s den.
May 18.—Traveled about seventeen miles over the bluffs. Very little timber, but good water.
May 19.—Traveled about eighteen miles. Passed one grave. An Indian farm about four miles west of the toll bridge kept by the Sac and Fox Indians. Toll, 25 cents. Passed one of the most beautiful pictures of country I ever saw. Drove the team with Mason.
May 20.—Traveled about sixteen miles over beautiful rolling prairie. No timber. Passed some new graves. Passed one horse and one ox left to die at leisure.
May 21.—Tuesday. Passed the grave of A. Powers, of Peoria County, Illinois, died on the 20th inst., about sixty-five miles west of St. Joseph. Traveled about eighteen miles. Was called to visit three cases of cholera. One died, a man, leaving a wife and child, from Illinois, poor. He lived seven hours after being taken. No wood or water secured.
May 22.—Rainy. Traveled five miles, and came to wood and water in plenty. Went on about ten miles further, and put out for the night. Fleming and Curtis taken with the cholera. Wake all night. Called upon just before we stopped to see a man with the cholera, who died soon after.
May 23.—Curtis and Fleming better, but not able to start in the morning. Started at 12, and traveled about six miles. Plenty of water three-quarters of a mile north of the road. Stopped in camp with Dr. Bemis’s company. Heard wolves during the night.
May 24.—Started early. Curtis and Fleming pretty comfortable. Traveled about nineteen miles. Passed the forks leading to Independence. Camped at Blue river. One grave, child 11 years old. Forded the stream. Raised our loading. Got my medicines wet. Boys caught a meal of catfish. Fish were large and plenty, and included enough for tomorrow’s breakfast.
May 25.—Started at Big Blue river. Took in company Samuel J. Hunter. Left the river at half past 3. Another grave: Traveled ten miles.
May 26.—Traveled about five miles and rested. Had catfish for breakfast.
May 27.—Went in with John Childs’s train of ten wagons.
At night the company lacked water, having camped on a hill away from water and wood. Traveled eighteen miles. Saw an antelope.
May 28.—Late start. Traveled alone, about fifteen miles. Plenty of feed and tolerable water. Passed four graves. Camped on a dry hill, a few rods from the Childs train.
May 29.—Started at 6 o’clock, going about eighteen miles. Water scarce and poor. Curtis gave the milk away. Went without dinner. A drove of buffaloes were seen by a company ahead. Left the team and went on ahead. Saw one buffalo and one antelope. Took sick with the cholera. No one meddled or took any notice of it but George Moon.
May 30.—Feel better. Start on foot. Continue to get better. Travel up the Little Blue twenty miles. Wood, water and feed tolerable.
May 31.—Started at 6. Followed up the Blue. Passed one good spring. Feed short. Traveled twenty miles. Hunter left, and I took the cooking line.
June 1.—Left the range of the Blue. Traveled twenty miles. Saw three antelopes.
June 2.—Started late. Rode all the forenoon, and read. Traveled eleven miles. Put up on the Platte. No wood or good water.
June 3.—Started at half past 6. Traveled five miles to Fort Kearney. Saw tame buffaloes. The fort buildings are built of wood, brick and mud. The country is flat and rather low. Two miles southeast are sandhills in sight. Went about twenty-two miles, and fell in with innumerable hosts of immigrants. Rained through the night.
June 4.—Traveled up the Platte river twenty miles. The road was low, level and muddy. The river is about a mile wide. At 2 o’clock it began to rain and blow tremendously, continuing all night. Camped without a spark of fire or warm supper, with our clothes as wet as water. A man died with the cholera in sight of us. He was a Mason. 1 was called to see him, but too late.
June 5.—It rains yet. Got as wet as ever in getting the team. I got a chance to cook some meat and tea with Dr. Hotchkiss’s stove. In company with Mr. Stone from Mansfield. Have a bad headache; take a blue pill. Start at 9; travel to a creek, twelve miles.
June 6.—Start at 9. Unship our load, and cross a creek. One death, a Missourian, from cholera. Go eighteen miles. Pass four graves in one place. Two more of the same train are ready to die. Got a pint and a half of brandy. Earn $2.20. Left Krill with a dying friend.
June 7.—Start late. Find plenty of doctoring to do. Stop at noon to attend some persons sick with cholera. One was dead before I got there, and two died before the next morning. They paid me $8.75. Deceased were named Israel Broshears and William Broshears and Mrs. Morton, the last being mother to the bereaved widow of Israel Broshears. We are 85 or 90 miles west of Fort Kearney.
June 8.—Left the camp of distress on the open prairie at half past 4 in the morning. The widow was ill both in body and mind. I gave them slight encouragement by promising to return and assist them along. I overtook our company at noon twenty miles away. Went back and met the others in trouble enough. I traveled with them until night. Again overtook our company three miles ahead. Made my arrangements to be ready to shift my duds to the widow’s wagon when they come up in the morning.
June 9.—Started off in good season. Went twenty miles. Encamped on a creek. Wolves very noisy, keeping us awake all night.
June 10.—Traveled eleven miles, and crossed South Platte at the lower crossing. Stream three-fourths mile wide, with a heavy current.
June 11.—Traveled twenty-one miles. Waded for wood for self and Rider. Got small ash poles.
