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Jackson
County 1890 Communicated.
As I have been requested by many to give a history of my recent trip to
California and Oregon, I have written the following sketch of my
travels:I left Jetmore Dec. 31st on the eastbound passenger, arrived in Larned at 10:45 a.m.; took the 11 o'clock train for the west, passing over the western portion of Kansas in the daytime, arrived at Pueblo, Col., at 10:30 p.m. Here I met several passengers bound for California; took the 11 o'clock p.m. train over the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad, arrived at Salida at the east base of the Rocky Mountains at 1 o'clock a.m.; from this place, pulled by two engines, our train began to climb the mountains; we soon came to the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas River, commonly known as the most picturesque piece of scenery in the West; by the light of the full moon we were enabled to get a good view of the tall cliffs of rock projecting over our train thousands of feet above; leaving this we proceeded along the side of the mountain and climbing an ascent of 210 feet to the mile, we reached Marshall Pass, the summit, at 6 o'clock a.m. Here the passengers anxious to see the surrounding country hurriedly left the cars, but on account of the very rare and cold atmosphere were soon found to return. Leaving here our descent down the mountain was so steep that it was necessary to apply the brakes to all the cars; here the road was very crooked and we often traveled three or four miles to get one. On the one side would be the mountain towering hundreds of feet above us and on the other a valley hundreds of feet beneath us; along the side of the mountain you could frequently see two tracks of this railroad, one far below the other. After passing through several small valleys, at 12 m. we entered the Black Canyon, which is somewhat similar to the Royal Gorge but longer and deeper, and traveled down it for 25 miles till we came to Cimarron Creek; ascending this stream, noted for its mountain trout, we soon reached Cimarron where we dined, chiefly on fish; leaving Cimarron we ascended a small stream and crossed over a small mountain into the Grand River Valley, and arrived at grand junction at 6 p.m.; from there to Provo City which we reached at 6 a.m. January 2nd; the country was mostly a sandy desert covered with sagebrush. At Provo City we entered the great Salt Lake Valley and arrived at Salt Lake City at 9:30 a.m.; from there, we passed westward near the north bank of the lake and arrived at Ogden at 11 a.m. Here we made close connections with the westbound Central Pacific train and were soon speeding on our journey. For the next 200 miles the country was a sandy desert covered with sagebrush and with snow 16 inches deep. We crossed the Humboldt River January 3rd at 6 a.m. and soon after passed the Humboldt Sink; took dinner at Truckee, an old mining town at the east base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, where the snow was 10 feet deep and still snowing; left there at 1 p.m. following a snow plow with five engines attached to it, which had been sent ahead of us to clear the track; in passing through a snow shed our train ran into the engines pushing the snow plow, jarring the passengers and rousing them up. We reached the summit at 2:30 p.m.; here we were sidetracked in the snow shed and held for 2 days waiting for the snow plows to clear the railroad track for about 20 miles beyond the snow shed,where the snow was from 4 to 8 feet deep. We soon explored the village all built inside of the snow shed and found it to consist of a hotel, saloon and post office all in the same building, and a telegraph office a few feet away. The snow here was 20 feet deep on a level and in many places 100 feet. We left there Sunday evening at 4 o'clock and arrived at Sacramento at 9 a.m. Took the northbound Southern Pacific train at 11 p.m., traveled up the Sacramento Valley all night, took breakfast at Redding, Cal; soon after leaving there we began to climb the Shasta Mountains and arrived at the summit at 12 m.; here we found 8 feet of snow and it was still snowing. From there we descended the mountain, passed through the Klamath Valley and crossed over the Siskiyou Mountains, the tallest on the western Coast Range. In crossing this mountain we traveled 18 miles to get 4; took supper at Ashland at the north base of this mountain and arrived at Central Point at 6 p.m. Found 8 inches of snow here. I spent several days at this place and at Medford a thriving railroad town of 1500 inhabitants and at Jacksonville, an old mining town in this valley and the county seat of Jackson Co., Oregon. These towns are all situated in a beautiful valley about 50 miles long and from 6 to 15 miles wide, called Rogue River Valley. On January eleventh and twelfth 18 inches more snow fell in the valley and 6 ft. in the mountains, blockading the railroad, stopping the travel and breaking down all the telegraph lines. It continued snowing every few days, blocking the road faster than they could clear it. A southbound passenger train was blockaded at Ashland from January 12th to 21st, when it returned to Portland with its passengers. This was the last passenger train over that road, and it was 2 days going 330 miles. It continued snowing at times till January 29th, when it began raining and continued for 5 days, carrying the snow off the valley and lower mountains, swelling small streams to large rivers which swept nearly every bridge in the valley away, washed trees up by the roots and floated them away; tore houses and barns from their foundations, completely covered the railroad with water in many places, washing out fills, trestles and bridges and twisting the rails apart, also tearing away the telegraph poles, and causing many large land slides in the mountains. Learning the condition of the railroad north & south from the operator, and seeing no chance for a train for several weeks, J. E. Fenton, an attorney of Spokane Falls, Washington, equipped with a 20-lb. valise, David Sternberg, a cigar drummer representing G. Condit & Co. of N.Y., equipped with two parcels weighing about 50 lbs., and I with a 20-lb. valise left Medford on Feb. 3rd for Portland. At Central Point, 4 miles distant, we were joined by Mr. A. E. Schwatka, a gentleman 66 years old, of large traveling experience and endowed with great hardihood and pluck, who had no baggage. Mr. Schwatka had left Yreka, Cal. Jan. 30th and traveled over the Siskiyou Mountains over 20 feet of snow to this point, having to beat a trail over the mountain to travel in. Four miles from Central Point we encountered a washout 200 feet long, the rails and ties being suspended in midair; here we dismounted, walked across on the ties and pulled the handcar over with a rope; four miles from here we came to a land slide 60 feet long; here we left the car and proceeded on foot. At Rogue River the approach to the wagon bridge was washed away and the benches were injured under some of the railroad trestle; we crossed safely on the railroad bridge, reaching Gold Hill at 9 p.m., walked from there to Woodville, where we arrived at 1 a.m., stopped there till morning. Left Woodville Wednesday morning on foot, it soon began raining and rained on us all morning. Three miles from Grants Pass we came to a land slide about 300 feet long of yellow sticky mud; here we left the railroad and traveled about 1 mile around the hill till we came to Bloody Run Creek, where the benches to the railroad bridge were washed away, and a construction gang were repairing them, arrived at Grant Pass at 1 p.m., stopped here till after supper when we left by handcar; the first mile of track here was poor; then we crossed over the mountain and proceeded to tunnel 9, 18 miles distant, went through the tunnel on a handcar, the water in the tunnel covering the rails: then encountering a slide we walked 4 miles to Leland, arriving there at l a.m. The section house was the only building here and, failing to rouse the section boss, we retired to a disabled emigrant car which had been sidetracked there, where we spent the night in company with a southbound pedestrian and negro boy, trying to keep warm. Left there at 5 a.m., walked 4 miles and took breakfast at a farm house; here Sternberg was taken sick, but with some assistance he continued his journey with the party to Glendale, arriving there at 1 p.m. From Medford to Glendale we passed 12 land slides and 24 washouts. Learning that the railroad track was nearly all gone and large land slides had fallen for the next 14 miles ahead of us, we left the railroad at this point and traveled on horseback Friday to Myrtle Creek, 30 miles distant. Here we found many trees fallen across the road, which we had to go around on the mountainside, and in crossing Canyon Creek two of our party came near being dumped into the water; we reached Myrtle Creek at 7 p.m.: here we left our horses and walked the railroad bridge ½ mile long to the town in the dark; in crossing the bridge Mr. Schwatka fell through the trestle but caught on his arms: after he had extricated himself he crawled the rest of the way and 50 feet on the ground before he discovered he was across the bridge. At Myrtle Creek Hotel, Fenton stepped off the porch and sprained his ankle. Saturday morning we left in company with four Western Union telegraph men for Roseburg, walked to Dillard 12 miles, stopped there for dinner, then proceeded; three miles beyond Dillard we came to a land slide 1 mile in length where two construction trains were working, stayed there till 5:30 p.m. and rode to Roseburg on a construction train. Left Roseburg Sunday morning on a construction train, rode to Junction 90 miles where we found a railroad bridge washed away, and about ½ mile of trestle work gone, walked 4 miles from there to Harrisburg, took supper there. After supper Miller fell in a hole of water and ran a nail through the palm of his hand. Here we found 14 passengers for Portland. Our party left there at 8 o'clock on a handcar and arrived at Albany 28 miles distant at 11 p.m. Monday morning we left Albany in company with Judge Strand for Salem, where we arrived at 2 p.m. Stayed there overnight, visited the state capital and other central points of attraction. Tuesday morning we crossed the Willamette River in skiffs and took a wagon for Derry Station 10 miles distant, arriving there at 12 m. Left Derry at 2 p.m. on the passenger train from there to Portland, arriving in the latter place at 6 p.m. Spent one day in Portland, bid Fenton and Miller farewell; then left by the Union Pacific for the East. Mr. Schwatka left us at Baker City, Oregon, Thursday evening at 1 o'clock, and Sternberg departed at Pocatello Friday morning for Salt Lake City. Friday evening our train was stuck in a snow drift four hours near Soda Springs, Idaho, and Friday night our car jumped the track, delaying us two hours more. We reached Cheyenne Saturday evening at 2:30, where we found a train for Denver awaiting us. We arrived at the latter place at 6 p.m. and left there at 10 p.m. for Jetmore, where I arrived on the westbound passenger Monday evening, Feb. 17th, having been gone just seven weeks. J. W. WINN.
Jetmore Reveille, Jetmore, Kansas, February 27, 1890, page 1Besides the Willamette, the principal other valleys are the Umpqua, in Douglas County, of which Roseburg is the chief town--and the Rogue River Valley. The Umpqua Valley is a beautiful country, and contains about 1,000,000 acres. It is principally rolling or hilly land, the face of the country being in many places rugged and picturesque. It is well supplied with good soil, good timber, and good water. The valley is separated from that of the Willamette by the Calapooya Mountains, a heavily timbered belt, with an altitude of 5000 ft., and extending from the Cascade to the Coast Range. The Umpqua River is navigable for 25 miles by small craft. The Rogue River Valley occupies the extreme southern portion of Western Oregon, extending into California. It is a broken country, or a series of valleys and rolling highlands separated in some places by dense forests of fir and cedar, and in others thinly timbered with oak, affording pasturage. The river is not navigable. The Rogue River district includes more than the strip of country constituting the valley of that river. Spurs from the Siskiyou Mountains to the south, the Cascades to the east, and the Umpquas, on the north, traverse the country in all directions, and the many tributaries of the Rogue River drain valleys of considerable area, some of them nearly 50 miles long. The valley of Bear Creek, a stream rising in the Siskiyou Mountains near the California line, flows into the Rogue River about 50 miles to the north. The valley is about 40 miles long, and 12 miles wide, and is bounded by the spurs of the Siskiyou and Cascade Mountains, ranging northwest and southeast. It is a very pretty valley, well cultivated. Ashland Creek rises on Ashland Butte, a snow peak with an altitude of about 8000 feet, and enters Bear Creek 30 miles above its mouth. A short distance from its junction the town of Ashland is situated (population, about 3000). It is a station on the California and Oregon line, and has doubled its population within two years. The town is built on an elevation of 2000 feet above the sea level, and enjoys a fine climate, corresponding to that of similar elevations in the district. The mean annual temperature (records of United States Signal Service) is 50° Fahr. The average mean temperature for January, the coldest month in the year, is 38°, and for July, the hottest month, 79°. The average annual rainfall is 23 inches, the greatest precipitation for one month being, in November, eight inches. No violent storms occur, and the temperature seldom falls below 10°, and snow, to the depth of a few inches, remains on the ground only a short time. There is a cool breeze in the afternoons and evenings of the hottest days in summer. The town is well laid out and is a pleasant place of residence, having good water and one good hotel, and the surrounding country is very picturesque; and within 60 miles of the celebrated Crater Lake, a body of water of unfathomable depth, is an old crater in the Cascade Range. A semi-weekly stage runs from here to Linkville, in Klamath County. This is the finest fruit-growing region in Oregon. All fruits not requiring a tropical climate can be grown here, including the English walnut, and peaches are of particularly fine flavor. All cereals, including maize and sorghum, flourish in the valleys. Of fruit, 20 dollars worth of peaches, at one cent per lb., are said to have been taken from one tree eight years old; and 30 dollars worth of apples (at same rate) from one tree. From a peach orchard of 1000 trees, 3 years old, a net profit of 100 dols. per acre has been realized, and this fruit is superior to any grown on the Pacific Coast. Land is expensive in the Ashland district, being 100 dols. and more for choice fruit land, and 150 dols. or more for land under cultivation, per acre. There are a number of small, partially cultivated farms, at a distance from Ashland in various directions, which can be purchased for low prices from people who are in debt, or wish, with the restless spirit of the old pioneer, to move on, or enter into mining or other business; but the amount of choice valley land being very limited, it will command a good price anywhere. There are a number of fruit orchards, which, from neglect or ignorance on the part of their owners, are not remunerative, but it is certain that fruit culture here will, with good management, pay as well (if not better) as on any part of the Pacific Coast, and the climate is far preferable, as the meteorological records will show There is, also, within a radius of a reasonable distance, the advantage of enjoying some good sport in the way of shooting and fishing. There is much valuable timber in the country; pine, fir, cedar, and oak, which is, however, of little value on this coast. The mineral resources are gold, coal, iron, cinnabar, marble, limestone, and granite. Since 1852, the gold taken out amounts to 25,000,000 dols., but at present the amount found is not much. The rainfall is principally in winter and early spring, and there are months of dry weather in summer, in which crops will suffer on any but special soils, and the use of irrigation would be a great benefit. In some seasons Bear Creek dries up above its confluence with Ashland Creek, and water gets very low in wells and other streams. There is no government land worth entering, but on the edges of valleys land can be purchased at three to ten dollars per acre. There are water powers in this district, and a woolen mill and other machinery is driven by this means at Ashland. During the summer months the pasturage in the valleys dries up--except meadows; and it is very dusty, and in the southern counties the temperature is often 100° or more in the middle of the day, but it is not oppressive, especially in situations exposed to the daily sea breeze. The Coast Range arrests a considerable portion of the precipitation, and lands of classes 1 and 2 will be likely to suffer from drought. On the Willamette River and its large tributaries and creeks, and in the neighborhood of any sluggish or stagnant waters, malaria is found in the form of intermittent and bilious fevers. It is particularly bad in the neighborhood of Salem. Also in the southern counties under similar conditions ague will be troublesome, especially during autumn or protracted droughts. By getting on the uplands, or in the higher valleys with swift, clear streams, this can be avoided. Oregon is an excellent country for sheep, but it has been overstocked and reliance placed on the open pasturage, which was soon eaten out. Overcrowding in tainted yards, and general neglect of sanitary precautions, has resulted in scab and a degenerated breed. Fortunately, however, intelligent men are now engaged in farming and managing stock, whose example will be followed. With her fine climates and great natural resources, there must be a great future for Oregon when agricultural operations are conducted on proper principles. The timber belt of Oregon is situated in the Cascades, and extends the whole length of the state. All along the foothills small valleys will be found, affording excellent situations for small fruit farms. The pure and delightful breeze from the Pacific tempers the heat of the sun, and with pure water and freedom from malaria, life should be enjoyable. People who have experienced the terrible weather of the Central and Eastern States willingly submit to the loss of some pleasant attributes of their lives in their old homes. The principal market for produce is Portland, from which it is again distributed to various points on the Puget Sound and Eastern Washington. The prices obtained by the farmer are not by any means always satisfactory. The middlemen (commission merchants) and railroad companies, especially, when there is no competition, absorb the lion's share of the proceeds. The American farmer is bled on every side, but he is used to it; and this country is so ruled by monopolists and syndicates, and breeds of one kind and another, that it is difficult to see a way of relief for him. If he can make 6 percent on his investment, and a comfortable plain living, he should be satisfied; but unless he is an intelligent manager and a man of judgment, he will certainly not do that. Here, as in Washington, the rain and mud in the winter is trying, and the dust is also in summer; but nothing like California. There is no dust in Western Washington, but they take it out in mud. You will often grumble and growl about the state of the roads and the rain, but every week or so you will read in your paper an account of the terrible blizzards in the East; and in the words of a modern American poet, whose name, however, is not generally known, you will "Get
down on your knees in the 'mus,'
There are
no summer storms to
damage anything. Yaquina Bay, about 180 miles from Portland by rail, is
a delightful summer resort, and chiefly to be noted as being the
Pacific terminus of the Oregon Pacific Road, now pushing through the
Cascades to cross Eastern Oregon, and aside with the Union Pacific at
Boise City, Idaho. The harbor at Yaquina is said to be the best on the
coast, south of the Columbia, but it is not at present deep enough for
large vessels drawing over 16 feet. The Oregon Pacific Company, owning
nearly all the town site, propose making this port a rival to Portland,
by shipping the cereals to be hereafter raised in Eastern Oregon, and
such as they can direct from the Willamette Valley from this port, when
the harbor is made deep enough. At the rooms of the "Board of
Immigration" at Portland some information may be obtained of use to the
stranger.And thank the Lord it ain't no 'wus.'" There are great attractions for the tourist and sportsman in Oregon; for there is both fine scenery, when not obscured by smoke from fires, or mist (during the early part of summer is the best time), and there is good shooting and fishing everywhere. Large game must be sought in the Cascades, and there are a few deer in the Coast Mountains, and some bears. Dogs must be used, and the ground to be gone over is very rough. There are ruffed grouse and California quail; and they will be found in August round the wheat fields, along the edge of the timber, and later in the woods. The Mongolian pheasant has been introduced and is multiplying rapidly. Ducks are abundant on the Columbia and in the lakes. Trout are found everywhere, and salmon wherever they can get up stream in the tributaries of the large rivers. Some of the best rivers for fishing are the Nehalem, the Trask, in Tillamook, and the Rogue River, in Douglas [sic] County. In the two former rivers fish run to four lbs. in weight; in the latter both large trout and salmon, from 10 to 15 lbs. weight, can be taken with the fly. It is a very rapid river and requires strong tackle. This river is the only place known where salmon take the fly. Take the California & Oregon Road from Portland and get out at "Gold Hill Station," with camp, outfit, and a barrel of salt to cure the fish, if you are good with tackle. July is the best season. At the falls of the Willamette near Oregon City, in latter end of April and May, when the salmon are running, fish from 10 to 40 lbs. can be taken with spoon bait, and lots of them. For large game, take any of the emigrant roads crossing the Cascades into Eastern Oregon. When in the foothills secure the services of an old hunter. In all the valleys south of the Willamette much of the choicest alluvial soil is under cultivation and valued at 100 dollars per acre. Good land uncultivated can be purchased at from 10 to 20 dollars per acre. There are thousands of acres of land of good quality, but covered with brush or timber which can be bought cheap, when the timber is of no great value, but the expenses of clearing are an obstacle to the profits of such an investment at present. There are, however, areas of brush land which can be converted into pasture by slashing and burning, and then putting Angora goats into the enclosure, which, by constantly nipping the shoots, prevent any new growth; and the profits of the increase of the herd, and the mohair, set against the expense of bringing it into cultivation. The adoption of irrigation in the south portion of the state would be advisable, on certain classes of soil especially. The British Colonist in North America, London 1890, pages 143-151 JACKSON COUNTY
Jackson County has 1,416,600 acres of surveyed and 392,600 acres of
unsurveyed land. The latter is principally on the high mountain ranges.
The general surface of the country embraces three divisions of
land--that which is on the high mountaintops, that on the hills or
broken ridges, and that in the valleys. The first is utilized for
summer range for stock, the green grass growing as the snow disappears
and affording rich pasturage for numerous herds, and is also a most
desirable place for butter and cheese making. The hill land is the
timber-bearing region and the home of the stockmen. The soil is capable
of a high degree of cultivation, and as it is denuded of its timber is
usually planted in cereals and grasses. The valley land is composed of
the successive alluvium deposits of different geological periods and
the constant disintegrations of the surrounding mountains. The soil of
Jackson County is more varied than that of any other in the state, and
it is not unusual to find five or different kinds on a farm of 160
acres.THE
ROGUE RIVER VALLEY.
The Rogue River Valley occupies the central portion of Jackson County
and is about thirty-five miles long by twenty miles wide. It takes its
name front the river which flows through its northern extremes, though
Bear Creek drains the greater portion of the Rogue River Valley proper.
Little Butte Creek and Sams Creek form considerable additions to the
main valley by their contiguous territory. All of these streams empty
into the main river within a few miles of each other. Rogue River
Valley is next to the Willamette in extent on the west side of the
Cascades, and is nearly two-thirds as large as the state of Rhode
Island. Its soil is composed of the successive denudations of the
surrounding mountains, and as they are the product of widely
distributed geological eras it is often found that several kinds of
soil are deposited within a limited area, making diversified farming
easy and practicable. Lying contiguous to California, and having its
climate tempered by the warm ocean breeze laden with moisture, it is
specially favored as a locality for the most perfect flavoring and
ripening of fruit; in this, Rogue River Valley always will excel. On
the gentle slopes of the surrounding hills thousands of acres can be
put into vineyards and choice fruits, while on the low bottom lands
anything and everything grown in a semi- or subtropical climate can be
produced. Ashland, Medford, Jacksonville, Central Point, Phoenix,
Talent, Eagle Point and Gold Hill are the principal towns in the valley."THE
ITALY OF OREGON."
Not inappropriately has the beautiful valley of the Rogue River been
called "The Italy of Oregon." Approach it from whatever source, an
amphitheater of mountains encircles it on every side, girding the
horizon with a cordon of snow-crowned peaks, towering, in many places,
over 8,000 feet above the valley, and sending long forest-encumbered
ridges down into the lower levels. Innumerable streams leap, in foaming
cataracts, to the sea, while the charm of sylvan dell, rugged cliffs
[and] rippling waters woos with resistless power. The long sweep of
graceful hills on either side of undulating valleys running far up into
the horizon, and there crowned by rugged mountains peaks, snow-crested,
making a nature equaled only by the Alps, and excelled by no other land
upon the earth.Out of 1,416,600 acres of surveyed land, only 192,374 is as yet in cultivation. The home-seeker can find good government land to be had under the preemption or Homestead Act. Land can be bought from the railroad at prices varying from $2 50 to $20. Land owners part with their land at reasonable figures, ranging at from $5 to $500, owing to location. Farming land sells at from $10 to $100, $25 to $50 being the prevailing price for good land. Wheat, rye, oats, barley and corn grow well on all soils, and yield fine crops. The straw is bright and clean, free from rust or mildew, and the grain full, plump and well matured. Of wheat, the best lands produce from 30 to 40 bushels, and of oats, from 40 to 50 bushels per acre. Common grade land runs from 5 to 10 bushels under the above estimate. Phenomenal yields often produce 60 bushels of wheat and 80 bushels of oats to the acre. Corn yields from 40 to 60 bushels to the acre. Corn does not require so much cultivation as in most countries. Timothy, clover and bluegrass do not do well on uplands, but make good crops on the low bottoms. Alfalfa grows anywhere, producing two good crops on the uplands, and from three to four on the bottoms; or, with irrigation, wild oats once seeded produces successive crops without planting, and is much used for hay. For a description of the mines and mining, attention is called to a special article on this subject. Mining, stock-raising, agriculture and fruit culture are the chief industries, though lumbering is destined to occupy additional attention as the country becomes more densely populated. The mildness of the climate and the absence of any prevailing disease among stock makes this an inviting field for the stock-grower. Aside from cattle, sheep and horses, swine and poultry are specially profitable. James McDonough, an old settler and member of the district board, says: "Jackson County is bounded on the north by Douglas and Josephine, on the east by Klamath, on the south by the state line, and on the west by Josephine. Rogue River rises in the Cascade Mountains, and flows through the county from east to northwest, and its many tributaries that flow from the Cascades and Siskiyous form a perfect watershed, completely draining the valley. Each smaller stream flows through valleys separate and distinct from that drained by Rogue River itself. Butte Creek Valley, though its soil differs materially from other parts of the county, is susceptible of profitable cultivation, and is especially valuable for its fine timber, which is destined in time to afford an inexhaustible revenue to its fortunate owners. As fine fruits are grown here as can be found anywhere, as was fully demonstrated by the premium exhibits from this locality at the district fair. Sams Valley, in the northern part of the county, is especially adapted to grain and fruit culture, and abounds in the finest varieties of timber indigenous to this part of the state. Stock-raising is also a profitable industry, the adjacent foothills and mountains affording excellent grazing for flocks and herds. Applegate, in the western part of the county, and separated from Rogue River Valley by a mountain range, is a rare combination of mineral, agricultural and horticultural land lying along the river bottom and between points and spurs, extending far into the foothills, where are located many comfortable homes, fine farms and gardens, with a vast extent of grazing lands in the adjoining mountains. Hydraulic and placer mining is carried on extensively along the Applegate River and its tributaries, while all kinds of semi-tropical fruits and berries are grown in sight of the most extensive hydraulic mines in the county. Evans Creek and Foots Creek, in the northern part of the county, also add a valuable pro rata to the agricultural and mineral wealth of the county. "Rogue River Valley is the largest in the county, being about forty miles long with an average width of perhaps ten miles. Bear Creek flows through its entire length and forms a conjunction with Rogue River a few miles below the mouth of Butte Creek, and directly opposite the famous Table Rocks or Table Mountains, in the northern part of the valley. The first settlements of the valley were in 1851, when gold was discovered in Jackson Creek, near where Jacksonville now stands. The mines proved both rich and extensive, and soon drew to this part of the state a large cosmopolitan population, and the wise agriculturalists among them saw in this beautiful and fertile valley a growing and permanent wealth that would long outlive the glamour and rush of a frenzied gold excitement, and many of the finest farms in the valley were at once located under the 'Homestead Act,' and are still in the hands of the original owners. For three decades this county grew and prospered, though completely isolated from the markets of the world; our mineral resources amply supplied the circulating medium required for the general conduct of business, which, at that time, was very large on account of the great number of people who had gathered here under the impulse of a new and rich discovery, on account too of the high prices that prevailed for all necessaries by reason of the excessive freight rates from the supply centers. Grain and fruit culture were carried on solely to meet the demands of local trade. "Many of the early immigrants brought with them valuable horses and cattle, and stock-raising became a specialty. Large herds of cattle were annually driven to the markets north and south, and our horses were improved by the importation of the best strains of blooded stock until they have made for themselves a record as roadsters and draught horses that has placed them among the first on the coast. "The climate of Jackson County is a happy mean between the humidity of Northern Oregon and the droughts of California. Here the two extremes meet and amicably compromise--the result is a perfectly equable climate. The main valley through which the Southern Pacific railroad passes is completely environed by a continuous chain of hills that separate it from the several smaller valleys that form such an important part of. Jackson County. These hills rise in successive steppes and benches into the Cascades, Siskiyous, Coast Range and Grave Creek mountains, giving the valley the appearance of an immense amphitheater. Here nature holds enrapt the astonished beholder when he views for the first time the gorgeous panorama that opens out before him, blending in variegated beauty the snow-capped mountains, the distant hills, the verdant valley and sparkling waterways in changeful alliance with summer's sunshine or winter's storms. "The completion of the Oregon & California Railroad to a connection with the Southern Pacific, under whose management the entire system is now operated, marked a new era in our progress and prosperity, and real estate rapidly advanced in value, immigration flowed in a continuous tide, new towns sprung up as if by magic, trade was divided and extended, and the future possibilities of this favored section became at once apparent. The fruit that year after year rotted ungathered for lack of means of transportation now found a ready sale in the markets north and south; and this branch of husbandry through the discriminating judgment of its votaries has been carefully fostered and extended, many new and superior varieties added, a more thorough system of pruning and cultivation observed, until today it is one of the leading and most profitable industries in the county. Pomology has become of absorbing interest, a large area has been added to our orchards, and skilled foreign labor engaged extensively in viticulture. Our stock, grain, fruit and timber have been brought into favorable competition with other products in the markets, and every industry has received an impetus from the infusion of new life-blood into the arteries of trade; and the place that was to the early pioneers in its pristine loveliness an Eden, has become, in the new order of events and developments, an empire. When the morning sunshine breaks in golden glory over the summit of Mt. Pitt, or blazes in noonday splendor on this enchanted scene until its rays are lost in the ebb and flow of the occident ocean, it looks not down upon a more beautiful and harmonious picture than our snow-capped mountains, vine-clad hills, sparkling waters, magnificent orchards, broad fields and meadows and prosperous towns that all combine to make fair our charming valley." W. C. Myer, of Ashland, gives the following information regarding the importation and breeding of fine stock : "In 1870 I brought the first full-blood Percheron that came to the Pacific coast, the stallion White Prince, imported from France, and Doll, bred from imported stock in Ohio. Since that time I have brought several other full-blood Percheron stallions and mares, and the stallion Arabian Boy, that here was sired by the imported Arabian Col. Jenefer, out of the imported Percheron mare Rosa Bonheur. Descendants of the above have been used for breeding purposes from British Columbia to Southern California, and as far east as Montana. Wherever introduced they have given good satisfaction. In 1878 I brought the first Shetland ponies that have been kept for breeding purposes on the Northwest coast. "In 1872 I brought one Jersey bull, one cow, and two heifers. Part of these were registered in the A.J.C.C.H.R. From this importation many learned the value of this stock as butter producers. "In 1883 I brought out one Jersey bull, a grandson of the noted Eurotus, and five cows and heifers, all registered in the A.J.C.C.H.R. This was the first full herd of all A.J.-registered Jerseys brought to the Northwest coast. From the above I bred and sold a herd to Mr. D. H. Looney, of Marion County, which have been awarded first premiums at the state fair for the past two years. "I have some of as fine specimens of Percherons, Shetlands, and Jerseys as can be found on this coast." The following is taken from the Daily Oregonian:
Acres
of improved land . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192, 374
Jackson County embraces the upper valley
of the Rogue River and is preeminently a hill country.
Subtropical fruits, vegetables and cereals grow luxuriantly in the
well-watered valleys, and the hard fruit and berries of a colder clime
thrive upon the hills and mountainsides. Sharing the rich soil and a
climate similar to that of Josephine County, it is equally prolific in
luscious peaches and grapes and produces apples of a flavor that is
simply unsurpassed. The finest lamb and mutton is produced on the
natural grass grown in the woods, and the poultry, eggs, milk, butter
and honey raised here are all that could be desired. Indeed, the growth
in population and cultivated land has, for 1889, been enormous
throughout Jackson County. A few years ago homesteads and
farms and orchards were few and far between. Now the clearing of lands,
the planting of orchards and building of comfortable houses go on
everywhere, and not a town in the county but is growing and prospering.
Ashland, though not the capital, is the largest town in the county. It
reminds the stranger of one of those Tuscan towns which are
picturesquely located in the ravines of the Apennines. South and east
is a range of delightfully wooded hills, and north and west is another
range less picturesque but equally lofty. The Southern Pacific railroad
reaches Ashland from the south, through a ravine which the Rogue River
must have carved for itself in the course of ages. It then winds along
the valley to the northwest, disappearing through a narrow gorge.
Ashland is the distribution point for the fruit of
the surrounding country. From it peaches and apples are
shipped to Portland and San Francisco, and it tells well for Ashland
peaches when they fetch a higher price in the San Francisco market than
the native-grown California peach. Indeed, peach growing has become so
profitable that the planting of peach trees amounts almost to a craze.
An old settler told the Oregonian
correspondent that until seven years ago the farmers used to produce
only as much as would keep body and soul together. Now they can easily
make over $400 an acre from peaches, and that with the supply the
demand has gone on increasing. In consequence of the impetus given to
trade by the new era of prosperity that is opening up for the farmers,
Ashland is booming at an abnormally rapid rate. It has more than
doubled in the last summer. A fine brick hotel was erected at a cost of
$25,000; a beautiful opera house built of brick is just being
completed, and in addition Ashland can boast of the finest water power
and the finest electric light system of any town in the state. The
power for its electric system is derived from water, as is also the
power used in its woolen and lumber mills. Ashland's business houses
are mostly substantially built of brick and stone, and its private
houses would do credit to metropolitan cities. Its villa residences,
perched on the slopes of the mountain and surrounded by fruit
and lower gardens. present a charming vista, and in summertime
are fanned by delightful breezes while the folks in the valley below
are sweltering in the sun. Two new churches have also been erected
within the past year.Number of cattle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10,119 Number of sheep and goats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12,576 Number of swine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7,866 Number of polls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . 1,377 Value of land . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $l,152,693 Town lots . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 222,441 Improvements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 632,322 Merchandise and implements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 343,959 Money, notes, accounts and shares of stock . . . . 470,048 Furniture, jewelry, carriages, etc. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94,207 Value of horses and mules . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 248 Value of cattle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130,900 Value of sheep and goats. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16,755 Value of swine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19,758 Gross value. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .3,235,347 Indebtedness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 686,971 Exemption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271,768 Total tax equalized by county board. . . . . . . . . . . .2,254,557 Jacksonville is the county seat of Jackson County, and has a population of about 1,000. It is five miles from Medford and about the same distance from Central Point, the nearest railway stations. In consequence of no direct railroad communication it has been placed at a great disadvantage and is consequently not pushing on with the rapidity of other towns in the county. It is, however, keeping its own and boasts the finest vintage in Oregon. Indeed, a very good connoisseur told me that he preferred Jacksonville wine to the finest produced in California, and as the industry is constantly growing, others must think so too. Medford is the second town in Jackson County in enterprise and population. It appears to have made greater strides during the past season than those to be credited to Ashland, and the number of stores, residences and solid business blocks that have just been built prove that Medford is alive to the great chances that are in store for the wide-awake towns of Southern Oregon. "The Resources of Southern Oregon," Southern Oregon State Board of Agriculture, 1890, page 20 AN OREGON PARADISE,
(Special to the EXAMINER.)Pleasant Ashland and the Rich Country About It. THE REASON FOR ITS PROSPERITY, It Has Mines and Timber and Factories, and There Is No Finer Fruit Region on the Whole Pacific Coast. ASHLAND, May 26.--Whenever Oregonians and Californians get into an argument over the relative excellence of the cities of their respective states the man from the North is pretty sure to say: "Look at Ashland; where can you beat that in California!" and the man from the Golden State will just as surely answer: "What makes Ashland so fine is that it is so close to California." Certain it is that the city is as pleasant and beautiful as any on the Coast. It is among the northern slopes and foothills of the Siskiyous, on rolling ground and surrounded by picturesque mountains. A fine creek runs through the town, still further increasing the beauty of the many pictures that every turn in the road reveals. The city is by no means a new one; for nearly forty years there has been a community at this point. The place was first settled in a romantic little valley directly on the swiftly flowing creek. Gradually it grew out of the confines of its site and overflowed into the gentle hills. When the railroad came, its depot was three-quarters of a mile from the old town. Now, however, the city has spread over this intervening space and beyond in every direction. One great feature of Ashland is the amount of ground about its residences, and there are gardens to every house, filled with flowers that would do credit even to California's Garden City. There is no crowding at Ashland. The city contains probably 3,000 people, yet it occupies as much territory as many cities of 10,000. Its streets are wide, and from every side of the city run fine driveways through the most magnificent country. Ashland is about 2,000 feet above the sea level, and above her tower great mountain ranges capped with snow. The spreading slopes of these mountains are covered with orchards. Further up they are clothed with fine forests. The mesas of this country are unequaled as pastures. Thousands of cattle and sheep range over them. The native grasses are wonderfully nutritious, and the beef and mutton from this district is esteemed above that from anywhere else in the markets of the West. A CITY OF FINE RESIDENCES.
Ashland contains scores of fine residences. Few are very large or
pretentious at all, but all are comfortable and pleasant, and no
stranger can look at the pretty and homelike cottages among the gardens
without wishing that he might live in such a place. A more delightful
town for a residence would be hard to find. Its summers are never hot;
its winters are never excessively cold. It combines all the pleasant,
healthy conditions of a country town with the most modern improvements
and conveniences of a great city. As before stated, the advantages of
Ashland were recognized many years ago.The Rogue River Indians ranged all through this country in the early days, and they could not submit to have their favorite hunting ground wrested from them. They fought the settlers fiercely, and many white men filled unmarked graves in the beautiful valleys before the red men were at last conquered, and the garden of Oregon was given over to the settlers. The Indian troubles over, the country prospered. The wheat planters succeeded the placer miners and raised immense crops. The fruit raisers recognized the value of the soil, and the country became what it is now--one of the greatest fruit-producing districts in all the world. But in the absence of railroad communication the growth of that section was necessarily slow, and in 1885, when it was incorporated as a city, it had a population of less than 1,000. For many years Ashland was reached only by stage routes hundreds of miles long overland, or from the seacoast at the mouth of Rogue River, where coasting vessels sometimes landed. [Access to the sea was at Crescent City, fifty miles south of the Rogue.] Then for some years the long gap in the railroad between Portland and San Francisco, from Roseburg, 140 [more like 95] miles to the northward, to Redding in California, 160 miles south of Ashland, made a wearisome stage journey of 300 miles necessary between the two railroads. Ashland was always the most important point in the valley [not true], but that counted for little when it was so inaccessible. RAILROAD FACILITIES.
A year ago last December the two ends of the railway met in the
mountains near Ashland and a continuous rail route between the two
large cities of the Pacific Coast was established. The historic
mountain stages have disappeared from the scene and the thrilling stage
journey over the Siskiyous is now only a memory.Even before the connection between the ends of the railroad was made Ashland was quite a city. The completion of the railroad from San Francisco to Portland still further quickened the life of the district. Many business houses were established, and today Ashland's merchants have a splendid trade. In the last two years Ashland has doubled in population and experienced a corresponding increase in the volume of its business. Last year the building operations of the city aggregated over $265,000. A good deal of attention is being directed to manufacturing, for which Ashland is admirably suited, and its expectations for future growth are based in a considerable degree upon manufactures. The greatest of Ashland's advantages in this respect is its magnificent water power. THE FRUIT INDUSTRY.
The soil and climate of Rogue River Valley, of which this country is a
part, are suited to the production of such semi-tropical fruits as
nuts, peaches, raisin grapes, almonds and walnuts. Last season almonds
raised there brought one-fourth more per pound in the market than the
product of any other district on the Coast. All of these things grow
here abundantly, and many farmers have grown rich off of them. But the
one fruit that the Ashland district is proudest of is the peach.
Elsewhere peaches may be smooth, large and juicy, but here they simply
pass all power of description. The word "peach" acquires a new
significance when one tastes the product of the Ashland orchard. As to
quantity, there are literally forests of peach trees. From an elevated
point the orchards may be seen stretching for miles over the rolling
hills.With the increase of production that is rapidly developing, this land of peaches will become very well known, indeed, wherever juicy fruit is appreciated. As yet, most of the peach crop is shipped to market in a green state. This will continue, because there is always a demand for green fruit of such excellent quality, but as production increases there will be a larger amount of fruit that cannot stand shipping green, which will have to be preserved. This will give employment to canning and drying establishments, which will find ample occupation outside of the fruit season in handling vegetables, such as tomatoes, peas, corn, etc. The fruit next in importance to the peach in the valley is the apple, large quantities of which are usually sent away to markets. All fruits not requiring a tropical climate can be successfully raised here. OTHER PRODUCTS.
The soil of Rogue River Valley is largely a granite loam four to ten
feet deep. There is a greater area of this kind than any other, though
in some places there is a strong adobe soil, making inexhaustible grain
land. A clay loam is also found in some places. Under the influence of
the warm climate the soil is a quick-growing one, and is favorable for
most vegetable productions. It is the best corn land in Oregon. Wheat,
oats, barley, buckwheat, hay, root crops and vegetables are among the
products of the valley. Sweet potatoes, peanuts, sorghum and hemp can
be successfully grown also.The climate of the valley constitutes one of its chief natural advantages. The mean annual temperature of the past four years, as ascertained from the records of the United States Signal Service, which maintains an observation station at Ashland, is fifty-four degrees. The average mean temperature for January, the coldest month in the year, is thirty-eight degrees, and for July, the hottest month in the year, seventy-nine degrees above zero. Ashland Creek never runs dry, but from year's end to year's end it can be heard all over the city as it churns and rushes down its steep rocky channel. The sound of this overgrown brook is never out of the ears of the residents of Ashland. The brook is as pure and cold as the snow that gave it birth back in the white-tipped range that looks down on the city. It starts from a living spring at the base of Ashland Butte and rushes down a picturesque canyon until it comes out near the city. All along its noisy way the stream passes under great pines, for the mountains on either bank are clad with timber to the very tops. Some of the scenery along its course is magnificent. But it is not the beauty of the stream alone that makes it valuable to Ashland. The fall of Ashland Creek is very great, and the power that is generated by it turns the wheels of two flouring mills, a woolen mill, a saw mill and door factories, electric light works and other works and factories. But not a thousandth part of the power it furnishes is taken. When the city grows the banks of the stream will be lined with mills and factories. NEW WATER WORKS.
Ashland gets its water supply from this creek, but her water works at
present are inadequate and the city is putting in a new plant at a cost
of $50,000. The pipe line will start about two miles up the creek.
Twenty-five hydrants will be put in, and the fall of the stream is
sufficient to give a pressure that will throw water over the highest
building in Ashland.There are many fine mineral springs in the neighborhood of Ashland. The sulfur and soda springs attract many visitors during the summer months both from Portland and San Francisco. A SPORTSMEN'S PARADISE.
It is a very paradise for sportsmen. The waters of Ashland Creek and
the other streams in the vicinity are swarming with the gamiest of
trout. Within a few months the pine-clad hills will be alive with
quail, grouse and other small game. Deer are very numerous, and the
ambitious hunter can, by going a little further into the mountains,
find bear and mountain lions and even an occasional elk.A large cannery and drier for fruit and vegetables is among the enterprises that are now under way at Ashland. The development of the fruit-growing and curing interests of the Rogue River Valley renders necessary the increased facilities for conducting that industry and they are being provided, and Ashland promises to become in a few years one of the most important fruit centers on the Pacific Slope. Ashland is the terminus of the Mount Shasta division of the Southern Pacific railroad. The company has built a large eating house and hotel, costing $35,000; also a large roundhouse, and the other buildings and shops usually found at termini of such importance. The education of the children of Ashland is well provided for. The city has two public school buildings and seven teachers are employed. A State Normal School is maintained and liberally patronized. There are also three private schools, including a kindergarten. The city has a large public hall and six handsome church edifices belonging to the Roman Catholics, Methodists, Presbyterians, Baptists, Congregationalists and Dunkards. The Episcopalians have an organization and will soon build a church. Of fraternal and benevolent societies, there are lodges of Masons, Odd Fellows and Knights of Pythias. The city has one of the best companies of militia in the state. A public reading room, under the auspices of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, and the libraries of the different societies, place good literature within the reach of everyone. The Board of Trade numbers among its members the live business men of the city. Ashland has two weekly newspapers--the Ashland Tidings, published by W. P. Leeds, and the Valley Record, of which E. J. Kaiser is the editor. MINES AND QUARRIES.
Last year Jackson County yielded more gold than any other county of
Oregon. Since their discovery in 1852 the placer mines of the region
have produced $25,000,000. There are quartz ledges showing rich
prospects, but the want of sufficient capital has thus far prevented
their development. Among the other minerals found are marble,
limestone, granite, sandstone, coal, iron, cinnabar and kaolin.The kaolin as well as most of the others has been thoroughly tested and found to be of excellent quality. An avenue 100 feet wide was recently made, leading from the business portion of the city to the Sulfur Springs at the base of the Siskiyou Mountains, three miles distant, and preparations for building a streetcar line out to the springs are now in progress. Many buildings of a substantial character are in course of erection. As pretty a little opera house as any in the West is now nearing completion at Ashland. All these facts, with the additional ones of pleasant and cultured society, and a wonderfully healthy location, ought to be enough to make Ashland within a short time the finest city in Southern Oregon if not in the whole state. The population of Ashland is variously estimated at from 2,500 to 3,000. Within two years the citizens expect this will be doubled, and the more sanguine ones look for a city of 10,000 within four years. San Francisco Examiner, May 27, 1890, page 5 NORTHERN COUNTRY.
An Interesting Letter from C. M. Wooster. THE INCIDENTS OF HIS TRIP. Impressions Made Upon Him by What He Saw Along the Road and in Oregon. PORTLAND (Or.), May 26.
ED. MERCURY: The ubiquitous publishers of the Mercury requested me to write up the impressions gathered during a short trip to the Northwest.This is somewhat out of my line, but so far as my means and limited time may permit it is agreed, especially as the object of my trip is to criticize and to look into the ways and means of this great boomland, to combine pleasure with business, and to learn something about the country we have heard most of during the past two years. I will simply venture the individual opinion of a citizen of the conservative, unpretentious and beautiful Santa Clara Valley. In company with Fred Owens of the Great Eastern Tea Company I left San Jose last Friday evening to catch the early train Saturday for Portland. At San Francisco we met our townsman H. C. Holt standing, grip in hand, ready to take the train for Colusa County to look at some land. Being somewhat interested in mother earth ourselves, we departed sufficiently from our course to accept an invitation to accompany him. We took the Redding train via Willows. It was dusty and quite warm. All along the route the evidences of the recent floods could be seen. The grain crop between Benicia and Davisville will scarcely justify harvesting. From Woodland to Willows the prospects are much brighter, although several large fields in sight of the cars are still covered with water. In the immediate vicinity of Willows the crop is good, and the waving of the grain taller than the fences over the immense fields as far as the eye can reach resembles very much the briny deep. Willows is a pretentious town hunting for a boom, a new county and with a county seat, a transcontinental railroad and a large irrigation ditch. Senator Kelly insists that all these things shall be. The city water works and electric light plant is owned by our townsman, Joe Enright. We took dinner at Willows, which was hurriedly over and, I may say, gladly over, then took the peanut train for Fruto, seventeen miles distant. This is seventeen miles of the roughest road in America. It meanders up Elk Creek, sometimes on the bank and sometimes in the creek. The roughness of the road kept the engine bell ringing in such clamorous discord that someone suggested that it be stuffed. We were running about six miles an hour, and the engineer reduced the speed to three, rather than stuff the bell. It is an accommodating train, however. They stopped to pick up a Chinaman who had tired of walking. They also stopped to let a white man on, which was quite gratifying, as it relieved our minds of an impression that the celestials might be the favored few. We arrived at Fruto City. 'Tis a pretty place for a city. All it needs is houses and inhabitants. The little valley nestled among the picturesque hills is all staked off into town lots. Some enterprising real estate man of San Francisco held an auction there last year and sold the lots to individuals I presume who favor a summer resort that cannot be found readily. There is a depot, a box car, a shed and a 25x50-foot hotel in Fruto. The balance of the city is devoted to the hay industry. The hotel is strictly a temperance institution; so is the city of Fruto at large. We could not get even a glass of cider or a cigar during our sojourn there. When we approached the hotel across the street the proprietor summoned the landlady and a battalion of little native productions to witness the sight. Three strangers, grips in hand, heading straight for the hotel was too much. Although the sign "hotel" conspicuously decorated the front of the building, he did not "advertise or solicit any business." However, he allowed that we could get along some way. Fred said something about not having seen his advertisement in the Mercury, and Hulet allowed that if the hotel could provide a spring chicken with an egg or two we could sleep on the hay stack in front of the hotel till the morning train came to our relief. Notwithstanding all this, Fruto bids fair to grow into a town of considerable importance. Elk Creek, four miles above, a prosperous mountain town, will, owing to railroad advantages, soon be absorbed by Fruto. Sunday we took a long drive over Senator John Boggs' ranch, consisting of some 12,000 acres of land, which is now the property of the Argonaut Land and Development Company of San Jose. Leaving Mr. Hulet to look after the ranch, we proceeded on our way by private conveyance to Willows through some of the richest grain fields I ever saw. Someone here said that Colusa County produces more wheat than any of the states excepting four. I didn't have time to look up the statistics on this subject, but one who travels through that heavily laden country now can believe most any exaggeration in that direction. We stopped overnight at Redding to board the regular Oregon express. Redding is a business town of no mean account. It provides subsistence for fifteen hotels, forty saloons, three banks, fifteen stores and two real estate offices. The soil is as red as a brick, and the weather was warm and sultry. The Depot Hotel is a beautiful building, nicely equipped; the courthouse does honor to the county. The business center is constructed of one- and two-story brick buildings, scattered over much more territory than is necessary for its size or conducive to its good looks. The surrounding country consists of rolling hills, covered with chaparral and nut pine. Very little evidence of agriculture can be seen, quartz and placer mining being the means of support principally relied upon. A drunken barber seemed to have possession of the town during the evening we were there. Apparently the premises were not any too large for his individual use, as but few other people could be seen on the streets. There are some valuable mineral springs here, and a refreshing mineral bath is one of the bills of fare of the hotel. At 6 o'clock Monday morning we left Redding to come over the mountains. The railroad follows the west bank of the Sacramento River for miles. Here the water is bright and clear and the banks of the river are quite picturesque. It required two large locomotives to pull our train of nine cars, and the river, which is quite high, is a succession of cataracts and falls. At the Upper Soda Springs is the prettiest view of mountain scenery I have ever seen. The train stops five minutes to permit the passengers to imbibe the delicious soda water and to fill their jugs and bottles from the beautiful spring. The gorge here is narrow and the roadbed solid masonry. The river, being confined, foams and acts as if 'twere mad at having its path disturbed. The opposite bank is nearly perpendicular, eighty to 100 feet in height. It is solid rock, apparently, but the surface is densely covered with a fernlike mountain moss. Over this there are seven waterfalls which, as they ripple down over the mossy surface, reminds one more of a fairy scene than a reality. So interesting were the surroundings that our conductor had considerable difficulty in getting the passengers to heed his "all aboard." The bells and whistles of both the engines had to be used. Like the first view of Cape Horn it grows fascinating. A few miles further on we leave the beautiful Sacramento and commence the remarkable climb to the summit. The big horseshoe is turned and we go back apparently down the river, but several hundred feet higher than the track we had passed but a few moments before. A rock could be easily thrown from the train to the track across the river away below. A few miles further on and we arrive at Sissons, where the train stops for dinner. Sissons is an enterprising place. There are three business streets, about 2000 inhabitants, a bank and several large, noisy sawmills, owned principally by San Jose people. The location is romantic. At the foot of Mount Shasta, under the shades of its snowy peak, in the midst of a huge pine forest, slightly disfigured by the ax and saw, but still a forest. Here are numerous evidences of the terrific winter that has just passed. The great Shasta, which seems but a stone's throw, is spotlessly white, the snow being sixty feet deep in some places. At Sissons the snow was nine to fifteen feet deep, and the road was blockaded thirty-four days during the recent storm. No communication was had between the inhabitants of Sissons and the outside world during that time. The grub held out, however, and there were no serious casualties. We next passed through Strawberry Valley, much talked of and much overrated. The lumbermen have robbed it of most of its beauty. However, the bright summer day contrasts delightfully with the snow of Shasta, and the beautiful brooks suggest a tent with gun and fish rod. It will someday be a popular resort. The great Shasta Valley was a surprise to us. It is practically a barren desert on top of the mountains, some eighty miles long and twenty miles wide. The ride over its whole length was quite monotonous. There is no evidence of husbandry; we would occasionally pass an old stage station, relics of former days. They look sad, just as they do throughout California where such relics are so numerous. There is a sort of a graveyard sadness about a deserted stage station that tempts a Californian to regret the invention of the iron horse. We finally reached Rogue River and woke ourselves up to look at some more scenery. [He means the Klamath River.] Here some genius built an immense sawmill on the banks of the river; it cost some $40,000. When it was completed the projector discovered he could not get the sawlogs down the Roguish river. So the mill is a silent monument. We again climb a rough mountain. The tract is about as straight as is the road from Smiths Creek to the Lick Observatory. At one point we could look down the mountain several miles, and I counted the track five times passing the course of observation. It reminded me of the pack mule trails of early days that would zigzag up a mountainside. Siskiyou, the summit, is a desolate place of two houses and seven souls. From here we drop down to Steinman. The grade is nearly 200 feet to the mile. This is the steepest, crookedest and most dangerous grade of any line owned by the Southern Pacific. Here the big mogul engine is needed as much to help the train down the mountain as it is to help it up. Both the locomotives use the steam in the reverse motion all the way down the hill, and the speed does not exceed six miles per hour. This in railroad parlance is called the water brake, used only when the air or automatic brake is not sufficient to hold the train. Until recently it was considered impracticable to get over this mountain by rail. A little time truly seems to wipe out impossibilities in this progressive age. Night overtook us, and we left the engineer feeling his way along a very rocky road on the bank of the Umpqua River. The roadbed was so shaky the speed of the train was reduced to five miles an hour. We retired feeling that we might rise again in the morning and then again we mightn't. Tuesday at noon we reached Salem, when we stopped off to see the capital of the Webfoot State. There is nothing in the atmosphere here to indicate that we are not in California, but when we pass through hundreds of miles of rich country either laden with its native forests or covered with stumps and underbrush, miles of valuable land undeveloped and unused, not even for the grazing of stock, then we begin to realize how far away from Santa Clara we are. Salem is a pretty city of probably 5000 inhabitants, equal, however, in enterprise to 10,000 in a California town in every respect but that of clearing stumps from the land. This is a hard thing to say, but 'tis true. One coming from conservative San Jose and witnessing the push and energy here where we expected so little cannot but wonder why 'tis so. Salem has an electric road, a horsecar line, a beautiful courthouse, several large flouring mills, woolen mills, agricultural works, etc., four good business streets and some beautiful dwellings with handsome lawns and ornamental grounds. Salem also has its own insurance company with $100,000 capital, $75,000 surplus and a magnificent building occupied as its home office, yet it is but one-seventh the size of San Jose. Several hundred acres are planted to orchards, principally prunes and apples, in the vicinity of Salem, while further back there are some large stock ranches and grain farms. Most of the land in sight, however, is covered with stumps and brush, and presents the appearance of a wilderness. Portland is the multum in parvo, less in area than the Garden City, yet it houses some 60,000 people--lively people, too, and chock full of business. The lots are small and streets narrow; the blocks are but 200 feet square. No ground is wasted. Larger lots would have necessitated grubbing out stumps, and Oregonians don't like to do that. The business portion of town, covering possibly 100 acres, is solidly built up of brick and stone buildings from two to seven stories in height. Front Street is exclusively a wholesale street, and drays are so numerous there that it is difficult for pedestrians to pass along. The stores are large. Rents are high; so are prices generally. Table fare is poor, particularly in the restaurants. Canned instead of fresh vegetables are used. California strawberries are served. Nearly everything in the vegetable lines comes from the Golden State. The Portland Hotel covers a block. It is seven stories high, built of stone and brick and in shape like the letter H. This is one of Villard's failures, and yet a success; it cost a million and a quarter, which was subscribed by the citizens. It is nicely equipped, well managed by Mr. Leland, and well patronized. Across from the hotel is the Marquam Grand Theater, built after the pattern of the New California of San Francisco. This is also built of stone and brick, and when completed will cost a quarter of a million. I use the word million because the Oregonians do; they seem to have no conception of thousands. A few years ago Portland subscribed and paid $13,000,000 to Henry Villard's railroad schemes and it was lost. Notwithstanding this, when Mr. Hunt, who owns seven or eight miles of railroad somewhere between here and the Cascades, asked for a $2,000,000 subsidy last week, the citizens came to the front, and the money is now ready. The Hunt railroad is to be the fourth competitive transcontinental railroad to terminate in this thrifty city. The Union Pacific, Northern Pacific and Southern Pacific are already here. Across the river the Union Pacific are erecting machine shops on an extensive scale. Their new depot and the shops will cost $1,500,000. Sites were purchased last week for a magnificent City Hall and a Chamber of Commerce building respectively--another million-dollar proposition. The city recently purchased the water works and have reduced the cost from $3 to $1.5, and another reduction is promised. There is one cable road and three electric (overhead) roads here besides numerous horsecar lines and three steam motor roads running into the suburbs where lots can be bought five miles out in the woods, including the stumps, for $250 to $400 each. Prices have been advancing rapidly during the past three years, since the railroads reached here, and property is now about as high as in San Francisco. Building is brisk, notwithstanding a strike among the laboring men, which is seriously felt. The average weekly clearing of the Portland clearing house is about $1,200,000. Commerce here is active. The Willamette River is a beautiful stream. Several ships are being loaded at the docks including the State of California. Numerous river steamers are constantly plying up and down the stream. The draw of the immense steel bridge owned by the Union Pacific is compelled to open about five times each hour to let the river boats pass. The floods last winter did much damage. Numerous houses floated down and, striking the bridges, seriously threatened their destruction. Powers' furniture factory, a large frame building full of furniture, floated against the upper bridge and finally crumbled just as the bridge was seemingly about to give way. Water was two feet deep on the two principal business streets. The Riverside Drive up the Willamette is a very pretty one. It is kept up by a gentlemen's driving club. There is, however, very little driving done here. Apparently there are twenty buggies in San Jose to one in Portland. There is a state political campaign in progress now. The candidates for Governor are making a bitter personal fight. The salary is yearly, and one of the candidates is reported as having said he would spend $100,000 to win the fight. The Republicans are apparently in the lead. We went to Vancouver Sunday on the steam motor road. This is a pretty little place, beautifully located on the Columbia River. The United States troops are stationed there, and grounds are quite extensive and ornamental. Town lots and stumps are staked out all along the line from Portland to Vancouver, and we went two miles beyond Vancouver on a horsecar, and still there were lots for sale. We wanted to see the "country," but after traveling ten miles gave it up. There are several hundred acres of orchards in the vicinity of Vancouver, silver prunes, apples, peaches and plums principally. They are small and do not look much like orchards to one from Santa Clara Valley. However, in justice I must say we have not seen the fertile valleys of Oregon where it is said orchards are orchards. There are sufficient town lots in the vicinity of Portland to supply a city of a million people, and the three great railroads are evidently doing all in their power to bring that million here. C. M. WOOSTER.
San Jose Mercury, June 1, 1890, page 3 Last
Sunday night the writer hopped on the [steamer] Telephone and the
next morning at 8 o'clock was on the southbound passenger train.
*
* *
As we whisked by a huge pile of flat rock, an old gentleman
on the opposite side of the car tapped the wandering Astorian on the
shoulder. "Do von see those rocks?" said he, "That is Table Rock: this
is Rogue River: it was there in 1856 that the Rogue River war ended."
Then he went on to tell about Rogue River and the Indian war, till the
writer wished that Bill Chance was along so he could keep track of the
stories and separate fact from fancy.*
* *
Ashland was reached at 11 o'clock a.m. Tuesday. The country
round about is devoted to fruit. It has a beautiful appearance and
seems prosperous. Everyone takes things easy, and enjoys life. Crystal
streams of ice-cold water flow through the sandy streets, and the plash
of the fountains, the song of the birds and the perfume of the flowers
fill the sunny air.A delightful day was spent riding around that part of Jackson County and visiting various points of interest, arrangements having been made for a future visit to Oregon's greatest natural phenomenon--Crater Lake. Like other parts of our great commonwealth, that portion of the state has a grand future. To a casual visitor there appears to be one mistake--an effort to have too many towns. The southern Oregon people are overdoing it, and as it now stands each little place will just about "hold its own." There is Jacksonville, Medford, Grants Pass, Ashland, Central Point. The first four each poll about 600 votes. Each one has special and just claims to recognition, yet there is just enough territory to build up and keep up a good thriving city. Jacksonville is sidetracked--is off the railroad: it has a standing offer of $25,000 and a right of way to anyone who will connect it with the railroad four and one-half miles away. It had its chance and missed it, and isn't in it. Ashland is at the apex of the triangle, and has to divide territory with Medford, which is a railroad town and the pet of the Southern Pacific Railroad Co., that corporation discriminating as much as is possible in favor of their own creation. At the other end is Grants Pass, which the writer believes will be the biggest of them all, being a new place and virtually free of the obstructionists and Silurians who hate to see progress or improvement. The people have little idea of Astoria and except being under the same state government have little in common with us. It is as different in many respects as though in another hemisphere. The manzanita and sugar pine and live oak take the place of our vine maple, fir and spruce, and the hills have that brown appearance that betokens the absence of rain. Bands of sheep go by, and on the purple mountains twinkle twilight campfires. Wednesday morning, about face, and the next morning the rocking waters and the green-wooded shores of the familiar Columbia greeted the return. "Through Oregon," Daily Morning Astorian, June 14, 1890, page 3 Across the Continent.
PHOENIX, ORE., May 15, '90.
We arrived in Ogden at 8:30 p.m., a city of 25,000 inhabitants, here we
remained overnight, and at 11:20 a.m. we took the Central Pacific
Railroad for Sacramento, Cal., at which place we arrived on the 5th
inst. A few hours ride from Ogden brought us to the Great Salt Lake and
in full view of what is called the Great American Desert. As far as the
eye could see, it was destitute of vegetation. The ground was covered
with alkali, it resembles sleet about one-fourth of an inch thick, a
perfectly worthless country. A few miles ride brought us to the Utah
Hot Springs. There was very little change in the looks of the country
until we reached Fort Reno, Nevada, 20 miles from the Cal. line.
Vegetation was more or less visible, garden patches and even farms
began to be visible, but a short run brought us into the mountains,
whose snow-covered peaks towered above the clouds, while below, the
sides of the cuts were covered with rocks and scrubby pines and
sagebrush. For miles and miles the railroad traverses mountains,
canyons, snow sheds and tunnels. The villages along the route have
invisible support other than the railroad. When we reached the summit
we commenced the gradual descent to the great Sacramento Valley, 20
miles before we reached the city we began to think we were in what is
called God's country. Enterprise and thrift marked the wayside. The
soil is of red clay and very productive. Hundred of acres along the
foothills are planted to orchards and vineyards. We arrived at the
Golden City, Sacramento, at 8:30 p.m., on the 5th, and at 9:30 we
stepped aboard the Southern Pacific railway. Passing over the great
Sacramento Valley after night of course we could not see its grandeur,
at the rising of the sun on the morning of the 6, we found ourselves
fast approaching the northern line of the state amid mountain scenery
that my feeble hand and silent pen refuses to describe. At 10 p.m. we
arrived at the great mountain soda springs, a place where thousands of
health and pleasure seekers annually resort. Here they stopped for a
few minutes to give the passengers an opportunity to visit and partake
of the flowing liquid. It is a splendid drink, better than we usually
get in Kansas. I wish I could send you and my friends a few jugs of it.
After leaving the springs we began to ascend the mountains and to our
right we could see Mt. Shasta, second in point of height to Mt. Hood
near Portland, elevation over 14,000 feet, its top is a perpetual snow
bank. On arriving at the state of the promised land the train came to a
halt for a few minutes, and before the train started, it commenced to
rain. It lightning and thundered, of which I thought very strange, as I
had been informed that it never lightened or thundered in this country.
We arrived at our destination at 4:30 p.m., and there was such a hand
shaking as one seldom sees of two brothers after a separation of over
42 long years. In my next letter I will give description of this
country and its resources.J. B. HICKS.
Phillips County Freeman, Logan, Kansas, June 5, 1890, page 5Across the Continent.
PHOENIX, ORE., May 26, '90.
After visiting with Mr. E. D. Foudray, Bro. of A. M. Foudray, for one
week, our stock arrived, and about two days was consumed in unloading,
unpacking and fitting up wagons, etc. Then we hitched our team to a
mountain stage and commenced traveling around, viewing and looking at
the promised land, amid mountain and forest scenery. Our first visit
was down the valley to Rogue River. We passed through Medford, a
thriving town of some 1500 inhabitants, here we supplied ourselves with
fishing tackle, expecting from former reports to have a regular picnic
with the fish, but alas we were disappointed. The water was so high and
so swift the fish had to go downstream tail first to keep from breaking
their necks. On our journey we passed Table Rock, the historical battle
grounds of 1852, the Indians were defeated by soldiers and citizens,
but the war lasted for four long years. The next place of historical
mention is Gold Hill, at one time the center of the gold excitement.
The old water ditches around this hill is still very visible, but the
men who made those ditches (Oh, where are they) to me no answer comes.
The next is Willow Springs, one of the richest mines in its day in the
state. Here the writer left the mountain stage and commenced
prospecting for the shining ore. I picked up several rocks that
appeared to contain gold qualities, but our guide, Mr. Foudray, an old
experienced gold hunter, informed me that I had not struck it very
rich. Then he explained to me his experience from the earliest gold
excitement to the present, then I became calm and we proceeded onward.
One hour's drive brought us to Jacksonville, the county seat and one of
the oldest mining towns in the state. It is beautifully located at the
foot of the mountains, most of its inhabitants are old men who came
here in 1851-2. After a general hand shaking, and receiving what I
termed a royal welcome, we conversed quite freely with some of the old
gray beards, one old fellow who seemed to have steam pretty high said
the day for making fortunes in that town was passed. He went on to say
that from 1851 to '52 it was nothing uncommon to pay $10 for a ball
ticket. Mr. E. D. Foudray, one of Jacksonville's first settlers, also
informed me that at one entertainment for the benefit of some
enterprise there were 500 tickets sold at $10 each. After sampling some
of the natural productions of the valley, such as wines and beers, we
journeyed homeward, passing well-improved farms, large orchards and
vineyards that would make a Kansas prohibitionist a resubmissionist.J. B. HICKS.
Phillips County Freeman, Logan, Kansas, June 12, 1890, page 5Ashland.
In 1865 most of the ground where the charming little city of Ashland
now stands was covered by sagebrush and manzanita thickets. The little
village then on the creek was called Ashland Mills, and had a
population of 125. The buildings were small, roughly built, and few in
number. Now the city has a population of 2500, and a large number of as
fine residences as can be found in any city of the same size on the
coast. The Hotel Oregon, Thompson & Billings block, Johnson block,
Ashland Bank, McCall's block, Houck building, Masonic Temple, Odd
Fellows' block, Ganiard's Opera House, are all fine buildings of brick
and iron; six fine churches, two large schoolhouses, Normal School
building. Two bright, enterprising weekly newspapers--the Ashland Tidings and the Valley Record--may
be taken as evidence of the cultivation and refinement of the people.
In 1865 communication was by stage to Sacramento and Portland, over the
roughest mountain roads, Now there is a daily passenger train each way,
and Ashland being the end of a division, the Southern Pacific Company
has built a substantial roundhouse of brick and iron, with stalls for
ten engines, and have also built one of the largest and most convenient
depot hotels and station houses on the line of the road. The country
tributary to the city contains a large area of fertile farming and
grazing lands, while the land adjoining the city is devoted to peaches,
apples, and small fruits. Large quantities of the very finest apples
and peaches are grown here, and the orchards are increasing greatly in
number every year, and with a few more men in the city like S. B.
Galey, G. F. Billings, F. Carter, O. Coolidge, J. Rogers and others to
further develop the horticultural interests of this region it will
become even more widely famous for the quality and quantity of its
various fruits. Ashland has a fine system of water works and an
electric light plant. There is an abundant water power, and the city
needs manufactories, especially of lumber. A fruit cannery is needed,
and the mountain of kaolin, near the city, should be utilized in making
porcelain ware. But in spite of these needs Ashland, with its great
prospects as a fruit country, its good schools and churches and its
glorious climate, will soon increase its population to 5000.Grants Pass.
Grants Pass is one of the youngest towns in Oregon, yet already has a
population of some 2000, with many fine public buildings, including a
brick opera house costing $30,000, three fine churches, and the
business blocks of Messrs. J. T. Layton & Co., J. W. Howard,
Sherrer & Judson and others. There are eight general merchandise
stores, with numerous other business enterprises, including a
newspaper, and the amount of business transacted is large. Among those
who have contributed materially to the growth of the town are H. B.
Miller, who established a large sash and door and milling business,
employing over 100 men; J. C. Campbell, J. L. Tufts, Dr. W. F. Krewer
and others. In 1865 stages were the only communication. The Oregon and
California Railroad now affords ready means of transit. The region
tributary to Grants Pass is rich in precious metals, timber and
agricultural resources. Several hydraulic mines are worked and pay
largely. There are immense forests of fir, sugar and yellow pine, which
are being worked. Fruit-growing is also rapidly developing, apples,
prunes and peaches being especially fine. Manufactures, a modern style
flour mill and more capital are greatly needed here.Jacksonville.
Jacksonville is one of the oldest settlements in Oregon and has a
population of about 1200. The business buildings are all brick, one and
two stories in height. A new courthouse of brick and stone has just
been completed at the cost of $39,000. Among the prominent citizens of
the town are Wintjen & Helms, A. Fisher & Brother, D. Linn,
Reames & White, P. J. Ryan, C. C. Beekman, D. Cronemiller &
Son, Henry Pape, John Miller, E. C. Brooks, Pat Donegan, Jean de
Roboam, Kaspar Kubli, Max Muller, James Drum, Stroughton Jones, Veit
Schutz, W. J. Plymale, John Orth, F. Levy and George Schumpf. In 1865 a
stage line was the sole means of communication. A railroad now passes
within three miles, and three daily stages connect with it. The region
tributary to Jacksonville is devoted to agriculture, lumbering and gold
mining. The principal mining camps are Blackwell, Willow Springs, Galls
Creek, Sardine Creek, Kanes Creek, Foots Creek, Jackson Creek, Poormans
Creek, Sterling Creek and Applegate Creek. All kinds of grain, fruit,
grapes, etc., grow to perfection. More enterprising men are needed here
to develop the resources. A narrow-gauge railroad is expected to
connect with the California and Oregon road at Medford.Medford.
Medford was founded in 1883 upon the completion of the California and
Oregon Railroad and has a population of 1500. This year the town has
put in a water works system at a cost of $20,000. J. H. Stewart, near
Medford, is the pioneer in peach culture and has 300 acres in that
fruit. I. H. Hull has done much toward securing other railroad
facilities. The region about Medford is both mining and agricultural.
The output of gold for 1889 was half a million dollars, principally
from placers. Fruit growing is becoming a prominent industry. What is
most needed here is another railroad, crossing the valley via
Jacksonville and Medford to Crescent City. A subsidy of $20,000 has
been raised by the two first-named places for the construction of a
motor road between the two places, a distance of four and a half miles.
The bonus remains unaccepted however.Linkville.
In 1866 the name of Linkville was unknown, while at present there is a
lively town with some 700 population. Among the prominent structures
are the courthouse and jail, school, church and several substantial
business blocks, all of which have been erected within the past six
years. A large amount of general mercantile business is done every
year, and it is rapidly increasing. Four well-equipped stage lines
center here, giving communication with the railroad and other parts of
Oregon. The region tributary to Linkville possesses large resources in
agriculture, lumber and stock raising. Wheat, oats and barley are the
principal agricultural products. The forests are practically unlimited.
Coal has been recently discovered, but capital is needed to develop the
deposits. Energetic men with capital are greatly needed and the field
is a most promising one. There is an abundance of water power and every
inducement for establishing manufactures. Three railroads are looking
this way, and the construction of at least one is assured inside of
eighteen months."Development of the Coast Since '65," San Francisco Chronicle, June 22, 1890, page 33 Across the Continent.
PHOENIX, ORE., June 17, '90.
As I contemplate emigrating farther north in the near future, I will
give a description of this valley and its surrounding. It is surrounded
on the east and west by mountains with plenty of pine and fir timber,
the gold diggings are all in the west range of mountains. The valley
proper is from 2 to15 miles in width, it is principally settled by old
pioneers, the land is said to be very productive for all kinds of small
grain and especially fruits of all kinds. I find by observation and
inquiry that the lands in this valley is very spotted. I think there is
some very good and some very poor land in the valley, but it is--to
plow they say, it sticks to the moldboard of a plow like putty, unless
the ground is in the right condition you can't plow it up but you can
root it up. I have been informed that it is a good day's work to plow
or root up with a good team one and one-fourth acres per day. This
valley is as destitute of old corn, oats and hay as I ever saw it in
Kansas. Old hay is selling at $15 per ton, but that is about played as
the new crop is being put upon the market now. Chop feed consisting of
wild oats and a little wheat is selling at $1.25 per hundred, flour 2
to $2.25, potatoes 2 cents per pound, coal oil 40¢ per gallon, sugar 10¢ per pound, coffee 25¢, tobacco is higher than in Logan, nails 5½¢ per pound, small batts 2 for 5¢,
shoeing horses or mules $4 per span, hard[wood] lumber very high, it
all comes from the East, pine and fir lumber from $1 to $1.50 per
thousand, cattle about the same as in Kansas, good horses and mules
demand a good price. It has been a very wet, cold and backward spring
here, the worst in the history of the state. It has been raining some
today, the first since we arrived, a great many are prepared to
irrigate their gardens, orchards and some of their meadows. There is a
man living in this town who says he has lived near the capital of the
state for over 20 years and just as soon as he can unload here he is
going back, he says there is no putty land up there and that the land
is easily cultivated and very productive. Now Mr. Editor, as I am on
the move, I will continue to give in an off-handed way you and my
friends the benefit of my observation and opinion of the country just
as I see it. Oh, how it rains; it is just pouring.J. B. HICKS.
Phillips County Freeman, Logan, Kansas, June 26, 1890, page 4Across the Continent.
COW CREEK, ORE., June 10, '90.
60 miles from the coast and up one of the ------ mountains I ever saw,
for the first time on our journey I see danger ahead, 2 of our wagons
come very near upsetting. Wood and water plenty, picking and grazing
getting better for our stock, but commissaries are growing short and we
are yet in the midst of the mountains and canyons far from habitation.
No rain here for 2 months. Now we are in Douglas County, oats 60 cents
per bushel and scarce at that. Now we enter a canyon 9 miles in length,
I shall not attempt to describe its grandeur, its tall trees, its deep
gulches and winding wagon road hundreds of feet above its yawning
gulches. As we ascended it grew colder and colder. I began to think we
were getting up into Alaska. All of our company enjoyed the grand
scenery of this wild and strange country with few exceptions, we passed
through and out of the canyon without a scratch and arrived at Canyon
City [Canyonville] at 4:30
p.m., crossed the Umpqua River and camped in a beautiful valley called
by the old settlers the Mo. bottom, upon inquiry I found that the
valley was principally settled by Missourians. June 11, broke camp at
6:30, crossed Mertal River [Myrtle Creek], then over a mountain ¾
mile high and when we reached the summit Eb Foudray jumped upon a stump
and crowed 3 times, we called the roll, all answered here. Now the next
thing in order was to go down on the other side, distant one mile. Some
of our most timid expressed a desire to walk down, when we reached the
bottom the roll was called and one was found to be absent just then the
cock crowed, the lost appeared then we proceeded along the railroad to
within 4 miles of Roseburg, the county seat of Douglas County, here we
spread dinner and after partaking of the same proceeded on to Roseburg,
here we procured a fresh supply of commissary stores and mule and horse
feed, and as it had the appearance of rain we procured sailcloth for
wagon covers, here I saw one man from Mo., 2 from Nebraska and 2 from
Kansas, also two old soldiers. Five miles north we find a beautiful
valley, but rather small, very little farming seemed to be going on
here. June 12, at the first crowing of our young chicken we all arose
and found it raining, while breakfast was being prepared we repaired
our wagon brakes for the next mountain, we broke camp at 7 p.m.,
crossed the North Umpqua River on a bridge built by the Cal. Bridge
Co., a very fine bridge over ¼
mile in length, then through some fine valley land, at noon we reached
Oakland, then north over the mountains again. On our road we passed
some fine valleys, all fenced but very little of it in cultivation,
principally stock ranches of the very finest quality. Oats 50 cents per
bushel, hay $10 per ton, camped for the night 10 miles north of
Oakland. June 13, all hands up for breakfast, broke camp at 6 a.m., the
boys in the advance with their guns. G. E. H. killed a jackrabbit and
there was more rejoicing over that little rabbit I think than there was
over that little lamb that was lost and found ages ago. At 11:30 a.m.
we arrived at a little town called Drain, and drained was it of beer, I
could not get any even for the stomach's sake. The druggist said he had
a little whiskey at 80 cents a pint and informed me that in order to
let me have it I would have to sign my name in his little book. I told
him I thought I was out of Kansas. No, he says, you are still in
Kansas. Then I began to meditate and ask myself if it could possibly be
that I was still in Kansas. I had a faint recollection of Phoenix,
Ore., and of receiving a letter from Kansas, also a copy of the Freeman
and reading in it of the Colby convention and how Webb McNall had been
nominated fer Congress, still I was not satisfied. I began to look
around for H. N. Boyd, Jim Wilson, D. G. Hoover and others, just then
Mr. F. came in and said did you see that animule out there, no, says I,
but as soon as I get some fish hooks I will go and see it, then my
vision and all things connected with it became o.k. Then I went to see
the animule, it was a seal taken from the water 3 days ago. It was a
curiosity, it had 2 legs only and a spread eagle tail in two sections,
each section about 2 inches long, its weight was 40 pounds.J. B. HICKS.
Phillips County Freeman, Logan, Kansas, July 17, 1890, page 5OREGON.
Thomas H. Wyatt, in early times a
farmer on Big Dry Creek, in this county, but now a resident of Oregon,
writes [to] the Expositor
from Sams Valley, in the Rogue River country. He says: "Coin is very
scarce in this cussed country. We have had a very severe winter and a
dry spring, and in consequence crops will be light in the Rogue River
Valley. This part of Oregon don't come up to Fresno in the production
of anything. The land is spotted and hard to catch in condition to
work, being generally either too wet or too dry. I have given it a good
trial here, farming on rented land, and I can only keep about even. The
health of the country is no better than Fresno. There is a great deal
of typhoid fever and ague here. We commenced heading wheat, but had to
quit on account of being too green--rather behindhand for a
Californian."What an Old Fresnoan Thinks of it. Fresno Weekly Expositor, July 30, 1890, page 3 There are two methods by which the traveler can reach Del Norte County. One is by coasting steamer from San Francisco to Crescent City. This trip is said by those who are fond of sea travel to be a most enjoyable one, while those with whom saltwater does not agree are equally emphatic in expressing their distaste for such a journey. A regular line of steamers is maintained from San Francisco, and except during the season of southeast storms trips are made every few days. The only other means of access is by way of the California and Oregon Railroad to Grants Pass, Or., and thence by stage across the mountains and down Smith River to Crescent City. By this route the traveler is afforded the opportunity of studying much scenery of the most attractive description. The region traversed is wild and almost entirely unsettled, and for many possesses all the greater attractions because of that fact. Leaving San Francisco at 9:30 o'clock in the evening, morning finds the travelers in the upper end of the Sacramento Valley, where a halt of half an hour is made at Redding for breakfast. The forenoon is most agreeably passed while traversing the canyon of the Sacramento River, and at noon Sissons is reached, with grand old Shasta towering into the clear sky overhead, her snow-white sides and summits glittering in the sun like sheets of silver. Then the summit of the range is quickly passed, and the train descends into the vast plain of Siskiyou County, beyond which, at the base of the mountains, the state line is crossed and Oregon is entered. Then the Siskiyou Mountains are climbed, with many a puff and groan from the two ponderous locomotives which are needed for drawing the train up so steep a grade. Near the summit is a tunnel some 3000 feet in length, and after traversing it the mountains are found to have been crossed, and down the hill into the Rogue River Valley speeds the train. Though it is a decidedly downhill grade, still the greatest care is used in running the train. The engines are kept well under control and a slow rate of speed is maintained. There is no use of hurrying, for if the cars should by any possibility get from under control no power on earth could save them from leaving the track at one of the numerous sharp curves and being dashed to fragments with their human load in the rocky canyons. The exceeding care with which the train is handled on this grade is shown from the fact that while crossing a lofty trestle a man appears around a curve just ahead with a red flag in his hand. The air brakes are applied like a flash and the train is brought up standing with a jar that brings everyone to his feet. The cars have not moved more than a dozen feet since the flag was first sighted, yet they are now held stationary on the steep grade while inquiry is made as to the cause of the flagging. Here on this mountainside is a repetition of the famous Tehachapi Loop, only in a more wonderful manner, and in one place can be seen three tracks, one above the other, at short distances. No faster time is made going down this grade than was the case in climbing the mountain on the other side, but finally the comparatively level valley is reached, the engineers let out a link or two, and with accelerated speed the train hurries down toward Ashland. At this place, one of the prettiest in Oregon, a halt is made for supper, and here acquaintance is made with the fruits of the famous Rogue River Valley. Extensive orchards of peaches, prunes, apples, pears, etc., are seen on every hand. Some are young and have been planted but a year or two. Others are mature, and the limbs of the trees are bent to the ground beneath their burden of luscious, glowing fruit. For miles after leaving Ashland there is almost a continual succession of orchards, but finally the grain field begins to predominate, and after a while the valley narrows in and the arable land ceases. Along the bank of the beautiful Rogue River rushes the train, affording glimpses of much attractive though wild scenery, and just as the shadows of night are falling Grants Pass is reached, and that portion of the trip to Del Norte County that lies over the railroad is ended. A little inquiry discloses the whereabouts of the stage, by which the next 100 miles is to be traversed, and the information that it is the writer's desire to engage an immediate passage to Crescent City is received with a rather sarcastic smile, as might become the announcement of a desire on the part of a child to play with a bumblebee, or a hot stove, or some other object with whose latent powers of discomfort the youngster were evidently unacquainted. But appearances are sometimes deceptive, and staging is by no means a new thing. To one who has braved the horrors and discomforts of the Mojave and Colorado deserts in a "mud wagon," this mountain trip through Southern Oregon can have no terrors, so the ill-conceived delight of the spectators at the ordeal they imagine awaits the new arrival from the city produces no impression. The vehicle, a cross between a Concord coach and a regular mud wagon, drives up, and, mounting the seat with the driver, the lively little town is soon left behind, and about a mile out the bank of the Rogue River is reached. The bridge was washed away during the storms of last winter, and so resort is had to a primitive ferry-boat, which is propelled across the stream by the current, the vessel or scow being attached to a cable by pulleys, and one end or the other of the boat being pointed diagonally upstream in accordance with the direction in which it is desired to cross. The stream being passed, all vestige of settlement is quickly left behind. The road plunges at once into the forest, and soon the night becomes of inky blackness. The candles on either side of the stage barely throw a light beyond the wheelers' heads, and the team travels by instinct rather than by the guidance of the driver. The limbs of the overhanging trees whip into our faces, and the wagon, hung on thoroughbraces, sways and swings and plunges like a ship in a choppy sea. The road is none of the smoothest; the chuckholes are not seen until their presence is made known by a plunge of the forward end of the vehicle that threatens to make one take a header out among the leaders, followed immediately by a reverse shock from the rear that almost makes one's spinal column snap. So it goes, one constant succession of plunges, jerks and leaps, hour after hour. Now a stream is forded with water well above the hubs, whereat the inside passenger, who is a veritable tenderfoot all the way from the Sucker State, and is undergoing his first experience of staging on the Pacific Coast, expresses a fear lest he be given an unwelcome bath. Then a hill is climbed, and then the team plunges down a declivity, with the wagon bouncing about behind it in the most uncomfortable manner. About midnight a little wayside station is reached, and a cup of hot coffee and a few mouthfuls of food are taken. Then, with fresh horses, another start is made, and from this time on until daylight the memory of the ride is like a nightmare. Sleep is all but impossible, owing to the spasmodic throes of the stage, but tired nature asserts herself and one falls asleep for a blissful minute or two, only to be awakened by a savage plunge and toss which threatens to dislocate every joint in the anatomy, and which, taking full effect in the small of the back, seems to send the spinal column a couple of inches or so farther up than provided by nature. But all things, even the most unpleasant, have an end, and soon after daylight the forlorn little town of Waldo is reached and a stop is made for breakfast and to change teams. A basin of cold water and a well-answered appeal for spiritual comfort produce an appetite, which is quickly appeased, and then the last half of the journey is commenced. Any idea that the road might be better and the stage more comfortable is quickly dispelled. From Waldo to the line between Oregon and California the road has apparently had no work done on it for years, and it is consequently a succession of ruts, chuckholes and beds of boulders, over which the driver urges his horses at a rapid trot, and even gallop. There is one spot which is so utterly and internally bad that it has been christened "hell's half acre." But the winter rains have widened the area of uncovered boulders until it comprises several acres, and across this we go on the jump, until every bone in the body feels bruised, and it seems as if the very muscles themselves would be shaken apart. One is fully ready to credit the story that the driver tells with a sardonic smile of the manner in which a Chinese passenger was absolutely jolted to death while being hurried over this vile piece of road, and how any human being can travel it day after day becomes a mystery. Here is a bridge which is certainly a marvel in its way. It is across a stream of considerable size, and is made of a couple of string pieces, across which are loosely laid innumerable small logs. These are not fastened in any manner, and the team pick their way gingerly over the logs, springing apart in every direction, so that it appears a miracle that the horses do not lose their footing, while the vehicle rattles over the corduroy in a manner which calls anything but blessings upon the heads of officials who could permit so primitive a structure to be maintained. When the California line is reached, however, a very different state of affairs is encountered. Here is a good road, narrow it is true, and with steep grades, but it is well kept and the discomfort of staging is at a minimum. To be sure, every 100 feet or so there is a "thanky-marm" or elevation for drainage, and until one learns how to meet these by making a hinge of his backbone they are apt to produce considerable discomfort about the stomach. But the mystery is quickly mastered, and from this on the journey has many pleasant features and one is at liberty to enjoy the scenery, which becomes more and more attractive the farther Del Norte County is penetrated. The hills are thickly covered with wild berries, including a most delicious red huckleberry, and the driver kindly stops long enough to allow a quantity of them to be gathered. For mile after mile the road winds about the mountains, now down in some deep canyon and then along a lofty summit. Frequently the old trail is crossed, over which supplies were once packed for all of Southern Oregon, Northern California, and even into Idaho and Montana. The constant passage of thousands of men and animals has in many places worn this trail two or three feet beneath the surrounding surface, and though long since abandoned it is still as plain as in the days when it was most traveled. Here and there along the road are rude shanties erected for the accommodation of the mail carriers during the winter, and that some shelter is needed is seen by the blazed marks on the trees by the side of the road twenty feet up in the air, denoting the level of the snow of last winter. For many miles there is not a sign of human habitation, nor indeed is there any place for such, there being no arable land and no opportunity for the most frugal settler to make a living in any way. Finally, after several hours of steady climbing the summit is reached, and a sharp descent is made into the valley of the Smith River. That stream is crossed by a rude but substantial bridge, and the valley widening out a fine ranch with numerous buildings is reached. This is known as Gasquet's, and is also a post office and stage station. The owner, Horace Gasquet, settled here many years ago, long before wagon roads were thought of. He planted an orchard and a vineyard, cleared the land, engaged in stock-raising, built good roads, and is now one of the wealthiest men in Del Norte County. A more beautiful location than this place it would be difficult to find. There are several hundred acres of arable land, and it is surrounded on every side by lofty, timber-clad mountains. The air is pure and bracing, the water is abundant, clear and cold; hunting and fishing can be had readily, and a more charming spot in which to pass a vacation could not be imagined. At Gasquet's another team and driver are taken for the remainder of the trip to Crescent City. The road passes down the valley about a mile, and then begins the sharp ascent of the mountain which forms the south bank of the river. It is only a narrow shelf cut out of the rock, and just space enough is allowed for the passage of a single vehicle. In many places a difference of six inches would precipitate the vehicle down the steep precipice over a thousand feet into the rocky gorge through which flows the river. Over this road the driver urges his team on the jump. Around curves they dash at the top of their speed, winding in and out of the gulches, and tossing the stage about in a manner that the driver evidently thinks must be alarming to his single passenger. But the scenery is too grand to allow of any time being spent in unnecessary fear, and secure in the knowledge that if anything is hurt the man in charge will be the worst sufferer, being on the side next the gorge, attention is paid entirely to the marvelously beautiful panorama that is unfolded at every turn. There is an autumnal haze in the atmosphere which adds to the attractiveness of the scene, while faintly borne on the breeze is the rush and roar of the torrent which is pouring through the narrow, rock-bound gorge over a thousand feet below. Tall redwoods fill the gulches and line the roadway in many places, while here and there are the traces left by the gold miners, who first brought this region into prominence. The road at last descends nearly to a level with the river, then passes over a light and graceful suspension bridge, and then without a moment's warning goes into the dense forest, which continues until Crescent City is reached. So dense is the growth and so numerous are the trees that the light of the sun seldom penetrates to the ground, which is damp and rich with decayed vegetation, and supports an undergrowth almost tropical in its luxuriance. For mile after mile the road winds about among these forest giants. In many places a corduroy has been laid, as otherwise the road would be impassable, since the sun does not penetrate with sufficient power to evaporate the moisture and prevent the roads from becoming a perfect slough of despond. Although it be bright and warm outside of the forest, here the air is dank and chill, and the few residents who greet the stage as it passes look gaunt and thin, with specter-like faces, as becomes those who live away from the sunlight. Although there is much to admire in these vast redwood forests, it is with a feeling of relief that they are left behind, not gradually but at a single step, like one passing through a gateway in a solid stone wall, and we emerge into the bright sunlight of the Elk Valley, with Crescent City almost at our feet, and the dancing waters of the bay in the distance, dotted with picturesque islands, and with the white sails of vessels passing to and fro. "Del Norte County," San Francisco Chronicle, August 17, 1890, page 10 OUR OREGON LETTER.
MCMINNVILLE, ORE., Oct. 20, '90.
Editor Republican:I promised to say something about Ashland, in Southern Oregon, where we had a delightful visit with some friends--former parishioners of ours in Hoosierdom. Ashland is a beautiful little city of 3,000 inhabitants, nestling at the foot of the mountains, in the lovely Rogue River Valley. As one looks down upon it from the surrounding heights, it is indeed "beautiful for situation." Ashland has splendid water works, supplied by the little creek which rises in the mountains, ten miles away, at an altitude of 7,500 feet. The water, being melted snow, is like ice water, piped into everyone's house and dooryard. Ashland has electric lights, good schools, numerous churches, two newspapers, excellent hotels and banks. There is fine water power here. Ashland Creek runs through the center of the city. Woolen mills, flouring mills, saw and planing mills do considerable manufacturing. Fruit culture is the chief industry of the city. Page & Son, of Portland, have a large packing and shipping business here. The Rogue River Valley lies across the southern part of Western Oregon, extending from the Cascade Mountains to the coast, the entire length of Rogue River. The fruit in this valley is truly wonderful. Ashland is the center of the fruit industry of the valley. All kinds of fruit--peaches, nectarines, pears, apples, quinces, plums, prunes, apricots, cherries, grapes of all kinds, berries of every variety, and even almonds are in most prolific abundance, and of delicious flavor. The orchards are located in the rolling hills, anywhere not too steep to climb. They contain from three to ten acres each. The trees are set fourteen feet apart, and are cultivated just as you would cultivate corn. These orchards rise, one above another, until from the foot of the hills to the top the beautiful trees are seen. The yield of an orchard of five-year-old trees, well cultivated, is $250 per acre. These orchard lands, adjacent to the city, are worth from $100 to $400 per acre, according to situation. Back two or three miles, suitable orchard land can be bought for $50 to $100 per acre. For luscious fruit, pure water, beautiful scenery and delightful climate, Ashland surely is hard to beat. My friend Patrick has lived in Ashland four years, and in that time he has killed 14 deer, and that with a No. 12 breech-loading shotgun, too, so don't be surprised if you hear of me bringing in a fine buck.. J. T. ABBETT.
Warren Republican, Williamsport, Indiana, November 6, 1890, page 2Last revised September 11, 2025 |
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