The Log School-House on the Columbia

  IV.

  SEATTLE THE CHIEF.

  Seattle was a Dwamish chief, and a true friend of the white race, whom heseemed to follow on account of their superior intelligence. He gave thename to an early settlement, which is now a great city, and which seemsdestined to become one of the important port cities of the world; for whenin 1852, some forty years ago, the pioneers of Alke Point left the townwhich they had laid out and called New York, and removed to the other sideof the bay, they named the place Seattle, from the friendly chief, insteadof New York. Alke means _by and by_ and Seattle is likely to become theNew York of the Pacific, and one of the great ports for Asiatic trade.With the immense agricultural and mineral resources with which it issurrounded, with its inexhaustible stores of timber, its sublime sceneryand delightful climate, with its direct and natural water-road to Japanand China, and its opportunity of manufacturing for the Asiatic market thekind of goods that England has to carry to the same markets over anadventurous course of three times the distance, with the great demand forgrain among the rice-eating countries of the East--the mind can not mapthe possibilities of this port city for the next hundred years or more.The prophecy of its enterprising citizens, that it will one day be one ofthe great cities in the world, is not unlikely to be realized; and it isinteresting to ask what was the history of the chief who gave the name tothis new Troy of the Puget Sea.

  He was at this time somewhat advanced in life, a portly man, of benevolentface, recalling the picture of Senator Benton, of Missouri, whom he wassaid to resemble. He was the chief of the Dwamishes, a small tribeinhabiting the territory around what is now Elliott Bay. He became afriend of Dr. Maynard, one of the pioneers of the new town, and of GeneralStevens, the great Territorial Governor. He was well known to Foster,Denny, Bell, and Borden, who took claims where the city now stands. Hislast years were passed at Port Madison, where he died in 1866, at a greatage.

  Governor Stevens confirmed his sachemship, and Seattle became theprotector and the good genius of the town. A curious legend, which seemsto be well founded, is related of a tax which Seattle levied upon the newtown, for the sake of the trouble that the name would give him in thespiritual world. When a Dwamish Indian lost a near relative of the samename by death, he changed his own name, because the name might attract theghost of the deceased, and so cause him to be haunted. The tribe believedthat departed spirits loved their old habitations, and the associations oftheir names and deeds, and so they changed their names and places on thedeath of relatives, that they might not be disturbed by ghostlyapparitions.

  "Why do you ask for a tax?" asked a pioneer of Seattle.

  "The name of the town will call me back after I am dead, and make meunhappy. I want my pay for what I shall suffer then, now."

  I hope that the rapid growth of the great city of the North does notdisquiet the gentle and benevolent soul of Seattle. The city should raisea monument to him, that he may see that he is kindly remembered when hecomes back to visit the associations of his name and life. Or, better forhis shade, the city should kindly care for his daughter, poor old AngelineSeattle, who at the time of this writing (1890) is a beggar in the streetsof uplifting commercial palaces and lovely homes!

  We visited her in her hut outside of the city some months ago, to ask herif she saved Seattle in 1855, by giving information to the pioneers thatthe woods around it were full of lurking Indians, bent on a plot todestroy it; for there is a legend that on that shadowy December night,when Seattle was in peril, and the council of Indian warriors met andresolved to destroy the town before morning, Jim, a friendly Indian, waspresent at the conference as a spy. He found means to warn the pioneers oftheir immediate danger.

  The ship of war Decatur, under Captain Gansevoort, lay in the harbor. Jim,who had acted in the Indian council, secretly, in the interest of thetown, had advised the chiefs to defer the attack until early in themorning, when the officers of the Decatur would be off their guard.

  _Middle block-house at the Cascades._]

  Night fell on the Puget Sea. The people went into the block-house tosleep, and the men of the Decatur guarded the town, taking their stationson shore. As the night deepened, a thousand hostile Indians crept up tothe place and awaited the morning, when the guard should go on board theship for breakfast, and the people should come out of the block-house andgo to their houses, and "set the gun behind the door."

  It was on this night, according to the legend, that "Old Angeline," as sheis now called, became the messenger that saved the inhabitants fromdestruction.

  The legend has been doubted; and when we asked the short, flat-faced oldwoman, as she answered our knock, if she was the daughter of the chief whosaved Seattle, she simply said, "Chief," grinned, and made a bow. She wasready to accept the traditional honors of the wild legend worthy of thepen of a Cooper.

  On returning from our visit to old Angeline, we asked Hon. Henry Yesler,the now rich pioneer, why the princess was not better cared for by thepeople of the city. He himself had been generous to her. "Why," he said,"if you were to give her fifty dollars, she would give it all away beforenight!" Benevolent old Angeline! She ought to live in a palace instead ofa hovel! Mr. Yesler doubted the local legend, but I still wished tobelieve it to be true.