Oregon Historical Quarterly/Volume 3/Daniel Knight Warren
DANIEL KNIGHT WARREN.
The following is the narrative of a pioneer of 1852, who is, however, at the age of sixty-five, still an active business man, and who belongs not so distinctively to the early pioneer period of settlement as to the second pioneer period that of early enterprises and the business ventures that have determined business arrangements and channels of trade. This is a field that the Historical Society has yet scarcely entered upon, and it should be approached cautiously, as it is thus far without historical perspective, nor free from local predispositions. Nevertheless, the great advantage of collecting such data as opportunity offers, while the pioneers of enterprise are still with us and in active mind, is so apparent, that the scruples of these men themselves, who hesitate to present for public perusal what is so personal, may be set aside. Sooner or later the public claims all worthy life and action.
The following is taken mainly from a letter written by Mr. Warren to a relative at the East, interested in family history, and is, therefore, even more of family interest than the usual pioneer reminiscences; but to the historian and sociologist these records are of much more interest than the usual political history to which such exclusive attention is commonly given. Study of genealogies, even, has ceased, under modern historical methods, to be exclusive or egotistical, and throws valuable light upon our most perplexing social problems. In the case of Mr. Warren, for instance, the question of what has become of the old New England revolutionary stock has some answer, and the persistence of the characteristics of the New Englander is well exhibited. New England industry, New England enterprise, the New England community and the New England home appear wherever the New England blood has gone, no matter through what vicissitudes it may have been drawn.
Mr. Warren's great grandfather, Phineas Warren, was a first cousin to Gen. Joseph Warren, of revolutionary fame, and was born in Boston, Mass., about the year 1745. His grandfather was born at Marlborough, Vt., in the memorable year 1776, and his grandmother, Mary Knight, in 1777. The infancy of these children was certainly during the days and years to develop all the native faculties of activity and fortitude. This was perhaps shown in the patriarchal family that came to them, consisting of seven sons and three daughters, who grew to maturity. The fourth child, Danford, was the father of D. K. Warren, and of the three other sons who made Oregon their home in 1852. Danford Warren was born in 1806, in Saratoga County, New York. This shows the slow drift of American life westward, which was so much accelerated half a century later. Mr. Warren's mother, Amanda Pike, was born in Springfield, Mass., April 9, 1808.
They were married at Bath, Steuben County, N. Y., in 1830, and their family was four boys, of whom D. K. was the youngest. He was born March 12, 1836, at Bath. The family history, until that time moving with the hope and happiness of the earlier American life, was now, however, sadly changed for the worse. The father was cut off prematurely at the age of thirty-one, by brain fever. Mr. Warren thus describes the burden that then fell upon his mother: "My mother was left upon a small and unproductive farm in western New York to battle for bread for herself and her four little boys. The farm contained only 110 acres, two thirds of which was covered with timber and brush, and but a few acres were susceptible of cultivation. Therefore my mother was compelled to support her little brood in some other way. This she did for five years after the death of my father by spinning the wool and flax with which to make the clothing not only for the family, but burning the midnight oil (or tallow candle) in cutting, fitting, and making clothes for others and for the trade." However, this life of hard work was comfort and peace compared with what followed owing to an unfortunate second marriage. The commendable traits of the stepfather's character, says Mr. Warren, were "that he was temperate and industrious, and finally accumulated considerable property in Illinois;" but such was his brutality in the family as to destroy all comfort or peace at home. The caprices of this man merit recollection only for the bearing they had upon directing the four sons toward their journey to Oregon. The neighbors at length were so outraged as to drive the stepfather from the community, and he went to Illinois, then the far West. Here he seemed to have reformed, and made so favorable an impression upon the uncle of the lads as to win from him a recommendation for the mother to again live with him. The family therefore went to Illinois in 1848, making a new home at Princeton; but this soon proved as unhappy as the old. The boys found work with the neighbors, from whom the stepfather attempted to collect their pay, and they were in fact forbidden to see their mother, on pain of severe punishment. This led to troubles and scenes which made it almost imperative to break forever all home ties, and separation from their devoted mother was the least of the evils. D. K. found work with a kindly farmer named Judd, at Princeton, and although but a slender lad of thirteen, performed his work so well that at the end of the year he received pay at the rate of $12 a month—a dollar more than the wages of grown men. He worked here during the summers for three years, but during winters attended school, working in term time only for his board. Here he began his first business venture, investing his limited earnings in live stock—colts and horses—and at the age of sixteen found himself possessor of $250 cash and a fine span of horses. This, as he now says, was as good a piece of financiering as he has ever done since.
In 1852 the four boys, the oldest of whom was not yet twenty -one, and the youngest but sixteen, put together their earnings, or its proceeds, and fitted out a fourhorse team for the trip to Oregon. To this adventurous enterprise they were incited by acquaintance with Thomas Mercer, of Princeton, Ill., who had become an enthusiast for Oregon, and although a leading man in the growing community of a great and growing state, gave up all and gathered his family and goods into emigrant wagons, bound for the Pacific shores. He became one of the early pioneers of Seattle, locating a claim in the then deep woods beyond Lake Union, and acquired property which at length became very valuable. He had the great misfortune, however, on the journey to Oregon to lose his wife, who died at the cascades. With Mercer the Warrens effected a business arrangement, selling him their team for $100 per head for the horses, with the option to buy back at the end of the journey at the same price, and paying him $100 each for passage in the train, doing their share of the work, which included guard duty every fourth night.
The company was not fully organized until the Missouri River was reached at Council Bluffs. The train left Princeton about the first of April, and crossed the Mississippi at New Boston, near the mouth of Iowa River; thence the route traveled lay through Pella, Oskaloosa, and Winterset, in Iowa, to Council Bluffs, or Kanesville, as then called, which was nearly all wild country.
They camped at these old Indian meeting grounds by the Missouri, resting the horses for a couple of weeks and awaiting the arrival of other members of the party. The company as finally organized consisted of the following: Captain, Thomas Mercer, who was accompanied by his wife and four children; Aaron Mercer and wife; Dexter Horton, wife and child; Rev. Daniel Bagley, wife and child; Rev. W. F. West and wife; Ashby West, James Rossnagle, Wm. Shoudy; George Gould, wife, son and daughter; John Pike, an uncle of Mr. Warren's; Daniel Drake, and the four young men Warren. There were several others who were with this train at the start, but did not continue with it the entire journey. This was, it will be noticed, a small company, and shows the disposition of the emigrants of the '50s to break up or form small parties, as the big companies of the '40s had been found unwieldy. There were about fourteen wagons and forty horses. Sixteen men of the company constituted the guard, and each was thus required to stand guard every fourth night, two men at a time, the first watch being relieved at midnight.
In the above list we recognize the familiar names of Horton and Bagley, as well as Mercer. These became pioneers of Seattle, Horton engaging early in mercantile pursuits, trading up and down the Sound, and finally undertaking the banking business, being for a time in partnership with W. S. Ladd of Portland. He acquired property and erected some of the best buildings in that truly queenly city, the New York block being projected almost before the ashes of the great fire were cold. Rev. Daniel Bagley became identified with the religious and educational life of the young commonwealth of Washington, as that part of Oregon was soon constituted, and from his labors sprang the University of Washington. Mr. Horton is still in his vigor, and Mr. Bagley still enjoys a green old age at eighty-three. Captain Mercer is no longer living.
Mr. Warren recalls his life on the Plains as furnishing the basis of a thrilling story, with its daily round of toil and change, with the alterations of plains and mountains and deserts, and incidents of buffaloes, Indians, and wolves, "along a track of more than 150 camp fires, which dotted the line for nearly 2,000 miles." He makes note, however, of only the following particulars of his journey:—
- In regard to the general health of our company.—That dread scourge, the cholera, broke out among- the emigrants along the Platte River, and for days and weeks we were rarely out of sight of a new made grave. Our company, however, left but one, Mrs. Gould, from Iowa, who died with cholera at Elm Creek, on Platte River; but many members of our company were sick along this part of the route. My health was good until we reached the Powder River in Eastern Oregon, where I was taken with mountain fever and did not recover until I reached the end of the journey. The wife of Capt. Thomas Mercer died at the cascades of the Columbia, within but one day's travel of the end of her journey, leaving four little girls.
- The Indians.—We were very fortunate in getting through without serious trouble from them. On one occasion, a very dark night, they made a bold attempt to steal our horses, but were promptly checked by the guards, who were Dexter Horton and myself. The Indians were armed with bows and arrows, and in the skirmish for the possession of the horses an arrow was shot through my coat and vest under the left arm. With the knowledge that we now have of the Indian character, it seems. remarkable, and we were indeed fortunate, that we were not left on the desolate plain without a single horse, as they could easily have stampeded our horses in spite of the guards almost any day or night between the Rocky Mountains and Snake River. On account of the scarcity of grass through that desolate region we were compelled to keep horsemen constantly scouting for grass, and at times sending from one to three miles from camp in the night in order to obtain sufficient grass to keep the horses alive; and only the regular guard of four went with them. We lost only one horse, however, on the trip, and that was bitten by a rattlesnake on Burnt River. (In the above brief description are included many adventures. Once, when the horses were needing good pasture most, Mr. Warren was guided out a long distance from camp over the parched plains to a bit of grass, selected by an inexperienced or unobservant companion, only to find that the "grass "was simply a patch of wild flag, or iris, which the horses would not touch; and the disgust of Captain Mercer, as the animals came back hollow and weakened by further fasting, knew no bounds.)
- Our route.—As before stated, we crossed the Missouri at Omaha; thence up the north side of the Platte River and up the Sweetwater River to the South Pass: thence to Green River. At Soda Springs, on Bear River, we diverged from the California route toward the northwest to Fort Hall, on the Snake River; thence practically down the Snake River (cutting across the Blue Mountains by the Grande Ronde) to the Columbia. Our whole route being substantially that of the Union Pacific Railroad (and the Oregon Short Line branch).
From The Dalles, where the first outposts of the Oregon settlements were seen, the older settlements on the Walla Walla having been abandoned after the Whitman massacre, and that valley not being occupied again by whites until after the war of 1855-56, the journey was by the Columbia. The wagons were embarked upon flatboats and transported down to the cascades, and thence by the old portage to a steamer, on which they came to Portland.
First experiences in Oregon were even more adventurous than on the Plains, and the four young men found that hard work and privation were as necessary here as ever in Illinois; but to this they were not averse, being both by nature and training disposed to take work or danger wherever these met them . They arrived at Portland, September 9, 1852, then a small but ambitious town in the woods; but were here detained by the sickness of his brother, P. C. Warren. Upon his convalescence the others began the search for employment. George and Frank went down the Columbia and found work at a sawmill at Astoria, where they were later joined by P. C. D. K. determined to try his luck at the gold fields in the valley of the Rogue River, Southern Oregon. At the Umpqua, having covered about 200 miles of his journey, he found employment in ferrying across the North Fork at Winchester. In December he continued his journey, arriving finally at Jump-off- Joe. The hardships of the journey and the intensely cold weather of that season, which was one of the most severe ever experienced, proved too much for the strength of the lad. He was taken with lung fever, being predisposed to this disorder from a previous attack the year before in Illinois. He lay sick in the camp of three brothers of the name of Raymond, who procured for him a physician of the old school, whose main prescription was to forbid him drinking water. In his raging fever and delirium this was a torture that still remains in memory, and if he had not eluded his nurse one night, and gone to the spring at the door, under a bank of snow, and drunk his fill, though so weak as to be unable to get back, and being found in the snow, he thinks the fever would have terminated fatally. At any rate with the draught of water the fever subsided, and health slowly returned.
He found work in the mines until spring opened, but seeing little hope of financial success concluded to go to Astoria, where work at better wages could be had in the sawmill. He had but $10 with which to make the journey, and that at a time when the roughest fare cost a dollar a meal. He worked his way, however, reaching Astoria in June. It was probably fortunate that he left the Rogue River as he did, since in the fall of '53 there was the memorable Indian outbreak, and the miners that escaped with life only were to be congratulated. The house in which he had lain sick was burned, and his physician, Doctor Rose, was killed by the Indians.
At Astoria, where he arrived with only the clothes he wore and $3.00 cash, he found work in a logging camp, at the mouth of the Walluski River. He was paid $75 per month, but after three months his employer broke up and absconded. Mr. Warren says, however, that he "did not claim all the credit for his failure, as there were ten others working for the man." What was another's extremity proved Mr. Warren's opportunity, as he soon went to logging on his own account, and continued this with fair success until the summer of '55, when he determined to try once more his luck in the mines. He went up the Columbia to the Colville district, taking a claim at the mouth of the Pen d'Oreille; but this enterprise was soon broken off by the general Indian uprising of that year, and the miners were compelled to seek safety in flight.
Returning to Astoria in '55, being then nineteen years old, Mr. Warren resumed his logging operations, and continued until '59. In the mean time he purchased a tract of 360 acres of timber land on the Columbia, thirteen miles above Astoria. This was on the present site of Knappa. Life here was free and busy, but not altogether satisfactory to the young man. He had a few acres in cultivation, and a small house, a barn, and a young orchard. On this little place he "batched" a part of the time, alternating this, when it became monotonous, with boarding at a neighbor's; but tiring of a life that offered so few advantages, especially in the way of society or personal culture, he decided to return to Illinois, and made the journey in company with his brother, P. C. Warren. They left Astoria in February of 1860 on the steamship Panama for San Francisco; thence on the Cortez to the Isthmus, which they crossed upon the railroad then but lately completed; and finished the journey on the steamship Ariel, the same which was afterwards captured on this line by the privateer Alabama in 1863. After visiting the old home at Bath a few weeks he went on to Princeton, Ill., and remained in that state until 1863. This he speaks of as the most remarkable period of his life, as he here renewed an old acquaintance, and on February 24, of the year last named, was married to Sarah Elizabeth Eaton. This lady was the only daughter of John L. and Lovey B. Eaton, who were of the pioneer and revolutionary stock of New England, and who were among the pioneers of the then far west, having moved from Salisbury, N. H., to Illinois in 1845, when the subject of this sketch was but five years old. This was an event and experience, which Mr. Warren describes as "lifting him to a higher plane and a better life."
He looks back, however, with surprise upon the confidence with which Mrs. Warren, then but a girl in years, accompanied him on the return journey of 7,000 miles, and undertook life amid the privations of pioneer days in Oregon, for they decided to return to the little clearing on the Columbia. Pleasant visits with friends in New York were quickly followed by the sea voyage, upon which, off Cape Hatteras, a terrible storm was encountered, making the trip to the Isthmus double its usual length. The steamship on the return from Panama was the Constitution, to San Francisco, and from that city the Brother Jonathan, whose wreck subsequently is still remembered as thrilling all the scattered settlements of Oregon with sorrow and sympathy. They arrived at Astoria on May 2, and soon undertook pioneer life on the farm by the Columbia. They were not in affluent circumstances. Mr. Warren recalls that after buying such furniture as was necessary, and a small stock of provisions, he had but $4.00 cash left. However, this stringency was but a small impediment to their spirit of enterprise and did not at all mar their happiness.
Mr. Warren's business was chiefly rafting logs to Astoria, and this required that he should often be absent from home, and Mrs. Warren remembers the courage that it required, or must be assumed, to remain alone at such times and care for the home. She tells of one day when she was thus alone that the entire place was surrounded by Indians who had become intoxicated, and although usually they were tractable when sober, she did not know what they might attempt while thus exhilarated, but she sang around the house, doing her work and attending to the baby with the greatest show of unconcern; and perhaps this cool manner saved trouble.
Neither was it all pleasure on the river where Mr. Warren navigated the rafts. In the daytime and during serene weather there was no difficulty, but logs had to go at other times also. He tells of one night off Tongue Point, an elevated headland that projects sharply a mile or more into the broad river, and where both wind and stream are violent in heavy weather, that the raft of logs which he and one other man were attempting to handle became windbound, and all but went to pieces. The seas broke constantly over the end of the clumsy structure, and to make it worse, the gale, having risen suddenly from the east, was piercingly cold, freezing the spray as it fell. At another time he lost a raft in the breakers near the mouth of the Columbia, and narrowly escaped with his life.
After seven years on the farm and rafting on the river, a mercantile and market business was undertaken at Astoria. It is worthy of mention that in connection with the market business the firm, Warren & McGuire, ran the first market wagon in Astoria, in 1876; and that Mr. Warren owned the horse that drew the first wagon, and kept the animal until his death, which occurred at the patriarchal age, for a horse, of thirty-four. It is also to be noted that the first street improvement in Astoria, being that part of Ninth Street between Astor and Duane, three blocks, was made by Mr. Warren's brother, G. W. Warren. This was done in the fall of '53, and consisted of filling it up to the established grade with sawdust from Parker's mill; being a depth of about three feet. The work was through a swamp almost the entire distance.
In connection with the market business, quite a portion of which was in contracts for supply of Fort Stevens army post, it was found convenient to pasture cattle on the tide lands west of Astoria, across Young's Bay. This led to purchase of considerable tracts of this land by himself and his brother, P. C. Warren, along both banks of Skipanon Creek, which winds for several miles through the natural meadows laid down by the action of the tides along the Columbia River's estuary. Mr. Warren had already made some experiments in reclaiming such lands by diking, at Knappa, and was the first in this effort. He now attempted this on a larger scale and was so well pleased with the results that he at length inclosed his entire holding of several hundred acres. This was done in 1878. The land thus reclaimed has proved highly productive of hay and pasturage, and as the lower Columbia region alone has many thousands of acres of such lands, his success has led the way to a large development of resources considered before as of little value.
After fourteen years at Astoria Mr. Warren decided to retire upon his farm at Skipanon, and there made a delightful home amid the most pleasant surroundings. He has made almost a model farm, with a large and elegant residence, and orchard and fields, whose product fill his immense barns to overflowing; but business habits proved too strong to be broken, and although nominally on the retired list, he continued actively in business, taking up interest in banking, sawmills, steamboats, and railroads. A share of his time was given also during this period to public service, and he successfully filled several local positions with honor, and also served a term in the state legislature, as joint senator from Clatsop, Tillamook, and Columbia counties in 1876.
Railroad development in Clatsop County, of which Mr. Warren was a pioneer, and became president of the short Seaside line of sixteen miles first built, placed new value upon his farm property. Here was found the most convenient place for railroad shops and yards. Here therefore he decided to lay off a town site, which appropriately took the name of Warrenton. This is now the central part of what is known as the Westside. In Warrenton the New Englander's ideas of utility and beauty in a village or city have reappeared. The streets are broad, and carefully kept. Shade trees are planted along the lanes, and careful provision for schools, churches, and public libraries has been made. A liberal policy has been followed by Mr. Warren to induce residents to build handsome houses, lots having been given in numerous instances on the simple condition that fitting improvements be made. The handsome schoolhouse, costing $1,100, was built and donated, together with the grounds on which it stands, by Mr. Warren. He has offered the most liberal conditions of use of his water frontage, and it is not improbable that the ample tide-land meadows of Warrenton will become in time the manufacturing district of Astoria. This, however, is for the future.
The lesson of his life, as Mr. Warren sees it, is that there is always reward for industry, and that opportunity has rather widened than diminished since the early days. To his own sons and daughters his enterprises have opened the way to the most desirable opportunities in society and business; and to many other young persons, either directly through his own home, or indirectly through the work he has always managed to furnish, he has provided the way to work and success; having constantly, since the age of nineteen, given employment to a number of men.
The general success of Mr. Warren's enterprises emphasizes the truth, which all founders of communities and town builders should ponder, that liberal rather than narrow interpretations of business laws will in the end show the greatest results.