OREGON FOLKLORE - WORK PROGRESS ADMINISTRATION:Surnames: Cornell, Starkweather, Bond, Looney, Waldo, Applegate, Nesmith, Smith, Ford, Kaiser, Delaney, Lovejoy, Bates, Venable
Title: Early Days in the Willamette Valley

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Title: Early Days in the Willamette Valley. 

Name and address of informant: Mrs. Frances Cornell. 260 Mission Street,
Salem, Oregon. 
Date and time of interview: January 18, 1939, 11:00-12:00. 
Place of interview: Above address -- home of informant. 
Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.: Pleasant, well-furnished
living room, with bright fire blazing in the fireplace. The floor was covered
with scatter Oriental rugs, and comfortable over-stuffed furniture -- chairs
and davenport -- were grouped about. A few pictures hung on the walls, and
books and magazines were in evidence.

The house, of six rooms, is about twenty-five years old. It is painted a light
brown with darker trim. A verandah runs across the front of the house. 

The surroundings consist of a corner lot, some 50 x 100 feet in size, with a
lawn in front and shrubbery in the rear. The house faces north, and the
neighborhood is middle-class. 

1. Scotch-Irish. 
2. Near Jefferson, Marion County, Oregon, in 1854. (day and month not given). 
3. Father, Jesse Looney; Mother, Ruby Bond Looney. (Both father and mother
were from the South.) 
4. Marion County, Oregon, all her life. 
5. Public schools of Jefferson, and Willamette University, Salem (date not
given). 
6. Aside from occupation, she was matron of the Oregon State Hospital (insane)
for a number of years. 
7. No special skills; interested in general matters. 
8. Member of Eastern Star (Masonic) and the Daughters of the American
Revolution. She was brought up in the Presbyterian faith. 
9. A large, stout woman, of fine appearance. She has gray hair and hazel eyes.
She dresses well. In speaking she terminates her sentences with "eh". 

Text: 

As I have already said, I was born here in Marion County. My father and
mother, came to Oregon from Alabama in 1843. They came in the same train with
the Applegates, the Waldos, Nesmiths, Smiths, Fords, Kaisers, Delaneys,
Lovejoy, and many others who became prominent in Oregon history, eh. My people
were opposed to slavery. They had six children when hey left Alabama. Six more 
children were born to them in Oregon, of which I am one. They objected to
bringing up their children where slavery existed. Their wagon train left
Independence, Missouri, on May 22, 1843, and they arrived in the Walla Walla
Valley in October of that year. Indian troubles were threatening when they
reached the Whitman Mission, and they left hastily for Fort Vancouver, where
octor McLaughlin extended his usual gracious hospitality. From there, on 
specially constructed rafts, they left for up the Willamette river, and father
eventually selected his claim of 640 acres in the Chepulcum valley, 12 miles
south of Salem, known generally as Santiam Valley. Chepulcum, in the Indian
language means "Beautiful Valley." Father's 640 acres embraced what has long
been known as Looney Butte, where his family was brought up and four of his
sons maintained their homes until death came. 

My mother was the first white woman in Chepulcum Valley. Shortly after
settlement in Oregon mother was invited by the Waldos to a wedding at their
place over in the Waldo Hills, as they came to be called, eh. Mother went,
expecting to enjoy quite a gala affair. She was out in the kitchen with Mrs.
Waldo, when the interested young people's arrival was announced. Mother was a
little disappointed in the lack of preparation, but still looked forward to
something of what she had always associated with a wedding. When somebody
called "Come quick, they're getting married", she got into the front room just
in time to hear Mr. Waldo say, "I pronounce you man and wife, by God." Mr.
Waldo had the authority through some source to perform marriage ceremonies,
but he hadn't had much experience, and those few words were all he could think
to say. Mother never did get over that, eh. 

When the mail route was established between Portland and San Francisco by the
California State Company, my father's farm was used as the first stage station
south of Salem. It took seven days to go from Sacramento to Portland, with the
stages travelling continuously day and night, the relay stations, where they
changed their horses being about fifteen miles apart. First, after Portland,
was Oregon City, then Aurora ("Dutchtown"), Salem, Looney's, Albany and two
farmhouses between there and Eugene. Some of the relay points farther south
were farmhouses near the present Grants Pass, Grave Creek, Phoenix
("Gasburg"), Jacksonville, Ashland. The stages used were of the heavy Concord
type, with four to six horses being necessary where the road was hard-pulling
--- as most of the roads were in those days, eh ---. Sometimes at the relay
stations it became necessary to use unbroken horses, and that was exciting for
everybody, most of all the passengers, eh. The horses were tied, blindfolded
and harnessed. The driver clutched the lines as the passengers scrambled willy
nilly into the swaying vehicle, the blindfolds were snatched off, and away
they went, the stage swaying from side to side, the horses plunging, until the
driver finally wore them down. 

As the incoming stage drove down the hill to the Looney station, the driver
blew his horn once for each passenger on board. The number of toots indicated
the number of eggs to fry and biscuits to bake. There is a marker now at the
old farm, on the highway now known as Route 99 E, showing where the stage
horses used to drink. 

We used to have a lot of fun up here, around Salem, when I was a girl, eh.
Nobody was extremely rich, but nobody seemed very poor either, eh. We all
seemed to have comfortable homes, with plenty of room for entertaining, and
there was much hospitality. Perhaps because we were a big family of young
people, our home was always open house for everybody, and the young folks of
Salem thought nothing of the twelve-mile drive out home, even though the roads
were a far cry from what they are now. 

There was a time in the 70's, I think it was, when what might be called the
society of the capital and countryside went in strong for masquerade parties.
There was one, I recall, given by the Werner Breymans, in their big house on
State [street?]. There were over a hundred masquers at that affair, and the
costumes covered everything from kings, cardinals and dukes to jockeys, among
the men, and from Dianas to Bopeeps among the women and girls. If I remember
correctly, I represented Phantasia, eh. Cap!

Along about this time we had a fancy-dress party at Jefferson, the town
adjoining us, which we Looneys rather felt we owned, there were so many of us
living thereabout. We had a band out from Salem to furnish the music, and
everything was done up in grand style. Here's a clipping from some paper, that
I have saved all these years, about that party, part of which you might like
to copy: 

"The party broke up shortly after one o'clock, and the Band were invited to
partake of refreshments and spend the balance of the night at Mr. Thompson's  
the mayor of the city. The proceeds more than paid all expenses, and the
ladies went home happy. 'A word to the wise is sufficient', and I trust that
the following criticism will be taken and appreciated by those to whom it is
due:

"The ladies have been very justly offended at the conduct of two or three
young men at the parties this season, who make a practice of going out into
the entry during the intervals of dancing, and smoking cigars, until the air
coming through two open doors is thick with tobacco smoke, which is not only
disgusting, but sickening, to same of the ladies, and the wraps hanging in the
entry do not lose the offensive odor for days afterward. Now, the ladies think
and say that if any gentlemen is so wedded to his cigar that it is impossible
for him to spend a few hours in their society without smoking, that he would
better stay at home altogether, or at least take a walk in the open while he
indulges in the deadly narcotic. Mr. Editor, I desire to ask you a question
for information. Is it considered just the thing in the best society of
Oregon, for a gentleman to catch a lady around the waist and hug her while he
swings her in a quadrille, and is it tolerated by the ladies of Salem?"   I
forgot to say that this party was one given by the ladies, so it must have
been in a leap year. 

Comment: 

As the daughter of the early pioneer, Jesse Looney, of Looney Butte, near
Jefferson, Marion County, Oregon, Mrs. Cornell is familiar with the many
phases of life in that section of the country. But now at the age of 85 years
she appears not to care to recall much that would be of vital interest. The
Looney clan - of which the recent Senator Steiwer was a member - is a very
large one, with annual meetings. The clan's historian, another Mrs. Looney,
lives near Jefferson. Unquestionably, this historian would have much
information of both a historic and folklore character.

Two items were secured from the personal papers of the informant: 

Uncle Jimmy Bates (newspaper article - attached). 
The Cowboy Caller (poem - see Folk Rhymes). 

UNCLE JIMMY BATES 

Reminiscences about the life of a prominent pioneer. 

Mr. Bates was born and raised in Washington City, D. C. His father, David
Bates, was from Maine, his mother, whose maiden name was Venable, was born and
raised in Washington, D. C. James was the youngest of eight children, four
boys and four girls. Their father died while James was a mere lad, leaving to
the family a large estate. James, being of an eccentric disposition, and the
youngest child, was, no doubt, a spoiled boy. The family, however, succeeded
in keeping James at the academy until he was fifteen years old, about which
time a small book, "Riley's African Shipwrecks", fell into his hands. Up to
this time he had made good progress in his studies and was nearly ready for
college, but he became so interested in the adventures related by Riley that
he lost all interest in school. His mind was all absorbed in the matter of
ships and their rigging, with the seas and their monsters, sea islands and
their hideous inhabitants, with hair breadth escapes and daring deeds. His
people were shocked and grieved at this unexpected turn in the affairs of
young James, his fine round forehead, his quick ear, his bright eye and his
small but wiry frame had led to hopes of a brilliant future, but the more his
friends and relatives protested the more persistent he became, until a
decision was reached to send the boy to Philadelphia and place him in the book
store of his eldest borther ... But all to no avail. The land had lost all
charms, nothing but "the sea, the sea, the boundless ea", had any allurements 
for this lad. He embraced the first opportunity to slip away from his brother,
and with but the clothes on his back, and not a penny in his pocket, he
boarded the first vessel that would accept him. This proved to be only a
coaster... No better opportunity afforded him to get to sea until the
following year. One day while the little coaster was lying at anchor in Boston
harbor, and young James was rehearsing in his mind the brilliant achievements
of that midnight party that tipped King George's tea into the harbor and the
mighty results that followed that innocent amusement of our daddies, his
thoughts drifted back to the Mayflower and the struggle of that faithful band
of Pilgrim Fathers. He longed to stand upon the prow of some noble ship and
look upon a land yet untrodden by the foot of civilization. He immediately
determined to visit every vessel in the great harbor and if possible find some
opportunity to cut off every possibility of being apprehended by his
relatives. The fortune left by his father was hardly thought of by this
ambitious but rash youth... Finding no opportunity to join a fur trading
vessel as he desired, bound for the west, he concluded to board a full rigged
merchant ship, loading for Europe, the American ship, [George Gebratte?]. This
gave him the opportunity, at least, to get beyond the danger of being
discovered by his friends. June, 1828, young Bates being now 19 years old,
finds the long sought for opportunity to go west on a fur trading expedition.
This was at the time when every adventurer who could pay for a stock of
provisions and a few traps, turned his face toward the Rocky Mountains, and he
who could not set up in business on his own account, was eager to join some
expedition by land or sea and share with the proprietors the result of his
labors. Marshall Wild of New York, were fitting out an expedition to the North
West in search of furs, Mr. Bates took employment of this firm, under Captain
Pentle, of the ship [Rudder?]. The ship, loaded with old iron, rusty nails,
calico, beads, knives and trinkets, sailed away for the western world. She
stopped at Hayti, then proceeded to the Straits of Magellan. Three weeks' wind
in the straits delayed the passage and caused the loss of two anchors. The
South Sea Islands were visited. Many old trinkets were traded for sealskins
and tortoise shells, but the objective point was Gray's Harbor. This was not
reached until March, 1829. There the good ship remained at anchor two or three
days. Here was witnessed one of those unavoidable calamities, which the reader
of "Riley's Narratives" could realize in a new light. The [Mary Ann?] of
London, a Hudson's Bay Co. brig, foundered and twenty-six men were lost. Some
of the bodies washed ashore at Chinook point. The brig came ashore, bottom
up,at Sand Island.  

The [Rudder?] proceeded up the Columbia. At the first rapids the 1700 pound
anchor was lost. The captain traded along the shore with the Indians, met Dr.
McLoughlin at Vancouver, came up the Willamette as far as the mouth of the
Clackamas, where the vessel grounded and had to be unloaded. The Indians
thought of taking the crew after everything else was landed. 

A messenger was sent to Dr. McLoughlin for advice. He persuaded the Indians to
treat the palefaces kindly. Many weeks were spent here, trading with the
Indians. I think this was the first ship ever seen so high up the Willamette,
if not the first one that had ever passed above where Portland now stands. A
50 pound salmon was bought for a few beads. One bunch of beads was exchanged
for ten salmon, a butcher knife for a deer. From the Clackamas the ship
descended the Willamette to Scappoose Bay (a point below Portland, here the
main mast was taken out and a new one prepared. The mast was cut one-half mile
from the river and conveyed by hand to the ship without the aid of the
Indians. The ship lay in Scappoose Bay about three months, during which time a
garden was planted and grown, which is the first garden that was ever planted
on Oregon soil and the first one west of the Rocky mountains by Americans. I
think the pioneers of Oregon honor Mr. Bates as being the first man who
planted potatoes on our generous soil. However, this was an off year for
potatoes, as they were not large enough to use when the ship proceeded down
the river, and no doubt the Indians destroyed them prematurely. 

The supply of merchandise having become exhausted, the ship sailed down the
coast of California, where the captain purchased from the Spaniards a small
cargo of Mexican horses which he took to the Sandwich Islands and traded for
more merchandise. Returned again to the Columbia river. Anchored awhile at
Baker's Bay. During the summer the vessel cruised in the northern waters along
the coast from Gray's harbor to Alaska. In the fall (1830) the ship entered
the Columbia for the third time, before bidding adieu to the now familiar
river and beautiful scenery of the West. Mr. Bates longed now to quit the sea
and cast his fortune in the splendid Willamette Valley. He had seen the early
spring, the delightful summer, the late and mellow autumn, and he could
imagine the open, cheery winter, and he felt that the burdens of life must be
light and the pleasures excessive in a climate like this. But like his first
longings, these could not be satisfied. Not an American home could be found in
the Willamette valley. Nothing remained for Mr. Bates but to return with the
ship to the Sandwich Islands, load up with sandal wood, sharks' fins and
other-of-pearl, carry these to China, trade them to the lovers of Confucius 
for nankeens, silks, teas, and Chinese curios, sail away for New York, and to
the delight of the owners of the vessel, land in safety with a cargo worth
$100,000 to the proprietors of the expedition.

I will not follow Mr. Bates any farther, but will simply say that his desire
to join a party of settlers for the now country was not realized until he met
Dr. Wilson and his party in 1857, at Honolulu, as explained in my previous
article in the Journal of Oct. 15, 1891. 

It is not positively known that Mr. Bates ever wrote his people after leaving
home. By some means his people learned that he was in the Willamette valley. I
think it was through our delegate to congress, Samuel R. Thurston, Mr. Bates
conversed freely on any subject save his own history, and no doubt the widow
Caldwell married him on his own merits, as very little could be learned as to
his people or history. It was only last summer that his daughter, Mrs. Anna
Vaughan, of Jefferson, in examining the contents of an old trunk, found a
letter from one of (Mr.?) Mrs. Bates' sisters. The letter was dated
Washington, D. C., 1852. This letter threw some light upon the family history.
Mrs. Vaughan, wishing to get more information on this, to her, interesting
subject, interrogated her father, and drew out from him the startling
information that there was a secret drawer in one end of the trunk, and that
he found a letter from one of his brothers, which had been locked up in the
drawer and known only to himself, for about thirty years. Opening the drawer
the old letter came forth, to tell the secrets of nearly half a century.
Neither of these letters had been ever answered, and the writers having given
up that brother for lost, had long since been laid away to their final rest.
Miss Ora Vaughan a granddaughter of "Uncle Jimmy", wrote to Washington City,
and finally succeeded in getting into correspondence with the two daughters of
Uncle Jimmy's youngest sister. One is Mrs. McElhinney, and the other is Mrs.
Julia B. Schoefp; also a nephew, Edward Lundy. While Mr. Bates was
encountering the gales at sea, that tossed his bark into the jaws of coral
reef, his relatives on land were vainly trying to buffet the storms of
financial adversity... and from what we can learn, no doubt "Uncle Jimmy"
enjoyed, especially during the last years of his life, as much pleasure and
tranquillity in his humble home in the far West as he could have done in the
bustling city of Washington, the nation's capital. As to the noble character
and peculiar eccentricities of this man, see the [Capital Journal?] of Oct.
15, 1891.

W. T. Rigdon 
Salem, Oregon, Feb, 15, 1892. 

Mr. Starkweather, who is one of the owners of and superintendent of the above
mentioned down-town business building, in intensely interested in the history
of his native state; and, like most of those interviewed for the Oregon
Folklore Studies, he is heartily interested in this project. But while
cooperative with the interviewer's objective, it was hard for him to
dissociate folklore from history. With the thought that he might divulge or
reveal new items or new slants of history, the interviewer incorporated
practically everything he said. As Form B shows, Mr. Starkweather has been
active in many phases of Oregon's political and economic life.