Part 2

I looked over Joe's shoulder and read as he wrote, and when he had completed the verse--oblivious to the conditions--I laughed outright. Mr. Dowling, with vigorous application of his hazel regulator, soon restored my reckoning, and indicated my true latitude and longitude. Mr. Dowling read Joe's poetry to the school, to show the ingratitude of the pupil to his preceptor; but the matter was otherwise received by the older pupils, and it was dropped. This incident no doubt revealed to Joe that he possessed poetic ability of the highest order. Joe, after he had arrived at manhood's estate, published a small volume of poems full of wit, beauty of description, and pleasing satire.

I attended the district school in the winter and worked on the farm in the spring, summer and fall, until I was eighteen years of age, when I left the farm and enrolled myself as a student at the Albion College, a Methodist institution strict in its discipline, thorough in its teachings, and of good repute for its excellent educational work. I was there over four years, but did not graduate because of failing health. In measuring up intellectually with a host of other young men in debate and composition, I was inspired with the faint hope that I might at least win a few victories in the actual conflict of life. I gave much attention to the languages, and was especially proficient in Greek and Latin. I had an inclination and love for that line of study. I did not, however, neglect the exact sciences, but I had no intuition assisting in that direction. What I know of mathematics, and my studies in that line were quite extensive, is the result of pure reasoning. If proper here, let me observe that the best teacher of the exact sciences is he who obtains a knowledge of them as I did, because he will more fully appreciate all the difficulties met with by the ordinary student.

He who intuitively sees the relation of numbers, form and quantity, needs but little, if any, assistance from a teacher. It is he who, by slow and laborious process of correct reasoning, discovers or unfolds these relations, that needs the sympathetic assistance of a teacher.

I left school because my physician thought I needed more ozone than Greek--more oxygen and sunshine than Latin, and more and better physical development for any success in life's arduous work and its strenuous conflicts. While under the care of Nature's physician, I spent most of my time in hunting and fishing, with occasional work on the farm. This continued for nearly a year. The treatment was beneficial, and I enjoyed it. During this time I received an invitation from a literary society in the town to deliver before them a lecture, on such subject as I might choose and on such evening as I might designate. I accepted the invitation, and chose as my subject "The Eclectic Scholar." I named a day one month ahead. As this was my first appearance before a public audience, and that, too, composed of the companions and acquaintances of my youth--the most unpropitious of all audiences for a young man to face--I spent nearly the entire month in the preparation of that address. I will not attempt to give its substance or a skeleton of the topics discussed. It was published in the local paper with flattering comments, but I have neither the manuscript nor a copy. My first intention was to read it, but I finally concluded to commit it to memory, and to deliver it without the aid of the manuscript. An incident occurred in this connection that, annoying as it was to me at the time, I cannot omit. After the address had been memorized, I went to a dense copse on the land of Mr. Parker, selected a small opening and delivered the address with proper gesticulations to the surrounding saplings, thinking no human ear or eye heard or saw me; but I was mistaken. Old man Parker was out pheasant hunting. He was near me when I commenced to speak, and, quickly concealing himself, saw and heard from his ambush the whole performance. When I picked up my hat to go, he arose, came into full view, clapped his hands and said, as he approached me, "Well done, Orange." As I was not in a conversational mood I did not tarry. At the appointed time I had a full audience. A vote of thanks was tendered me and a request for a copy for publication. Since that time I have learned that many of the great addresses of the world by orators, and statesmen, are first carefully written, then memorized, then repeated in front of mirrors, before delivery to the audiences for whom they were intended.

Late in the fall of this year I concluded to study law, and to make its exposition and practice my life work. With this end in view I entered the office of Hon. John C. Howe, of Lima, La Grange County, Indiana. Here let me say by way of parenthesis, that our esteemed brother lawyer, James B. Howe of Seattle, is a near relative of his. A brief description of my preceptor may be admissible. He was a quiet, somewhat reserved man, and a great student. Though inclined to be taciturn, yet, when in the mood, his conversation was charming. I have often thought his mind was a little sluggish in its ordinary movement; but, let it be stimulated by an important case or a large fee, and he seemed to be, like Massena, almost inspired. It is said of Napoleon's great Marshal that in the ordinary affairs of life he was a dull and even a stupid man; but that when he saw the smoke of battle, and heard the roar of cannon, the rattling of musketry, and saw the gleam of bayonets in the hands of the charging legions, he was seemingly inspired, and never, amid the roar and tumult of battle, made a mistake. In a sense this was true of my preceptor. He was of strong physique and could work with an intensified industry that approached genius. He possessed great power of generalization and could readily reduce complicated and voluminous facts to their proper classes, and thus completely master them. Few men in American history have possessed this ability in a pre-eminent degree. I might, among the few, mention John C. Calhoun and Oliver P. Morton of Indiana. Another characteristic of my preceptor was his preferential love of English Reports and English authors; hence, in addition to Blackstone's Commentaries, I read Starkey on Evidence; Chitty and Stephen on Pleadings; Chitty on Contracts, on Notes, and Bills of Exchange; Coke on Littleton; Hale's Pleas to the Crown; Archibald on Criminal Law; Lord Redesdale's Equity Pleadings and Jurisprudence; and Seldon on Practice. I read Dr. Lushington's Admiralty Reports. Seemingly, I had no use for admiralty, living as I did in the inland empire; but I found such knowledge of great use after I was appointed to a Judgeship in Washington Territory. A little brushing-up and some additional reading enabled me to try the admiralty causes brought before me to the satisfaction of the bar. I cannot close this brief reference to my law preceptor without the narration of an incident in which he was one of the principal actors. The sheriff of St. Joseph County, Michigan, had been elected for four consecutive terms, and it was alleged and conceded that he was a defaulter in a large amount. He had given a different set of bondsmen for each term, and the question arose which of these sets was responsible. My preceptor was employed by the county; the bondsmen, of which my father was one, employed Columbus Lancaster, afterwards a delegate to Congress from Washington Territory, and one of the judges in the provisional government of Oregon. Lancaster was a witty and eloquent speaker and a successful trial lawyer. As the case was an important one, and the counsel distinguished, many lawyers attended the trial. At that time the laws of Michigan gave three justices of the peace, sitting in bank, all of the powers, by the consent of the parties, of the Superior Court. This was a trial before such tribunal. But little evidence was taken, just enough to raise the legal questions involved. The argument of Howe was clear, compact and to my mind conclusive. It had for its basis English authorities and cases. Lancaster answered in an eloquent and witty speech, and after a brief reply from Howe the case was submitted. The justices retired, but in a short time returned. Their judgment was for the defendants. Howe was manifestly disappointed and he said to Lancaster: "I will offer this: You may choose any three from the lawyers present, and we will re-argue the question and I will agree to abide by their decision." The answer of Lancaster was characteristic; he said: "I never run all day to catch a rabbit, and then let him go just to see whether I can catch him again."

Both of these men have long since been gathered to their fathers. They were just men and true, and in ability far above the average.

I was admitted to the bar in the fall of 1850. Under the laws of Michigan at that time, admission to the bar was not necessary to practice law in that State, but it was the usual and dignified course. The class seeking admission was quite a large one; most of them, in fact all of them save myself, were old lawyers seeking admission in the regular and time-sanctified order. An afternoon was given by Judge Wing, who presided, for the hearing of the petition of the applicants. The Judge and the Bar were the examiners. They all took a free hand. I thought I could discover a disposition on the part of the Judge and the Bar to put the old practitioners, whose knowledge of elementary principles had been somewhat dimmed by the lapse of years, at a disadvantage as compared with the accuracy of a young man fresh from the books. Hence, many questions were rushed to me for a full and accurate statement of the text-books, which in most cases I was able to give, to the manifest pleasure of the examiners. We were all admitted. In anticipation of so propitious a result, we had provided a banquet for Bench and Bar. At its conclusion the Judge said, "a motion for a new trial would be in order, and if such motion was made he would take it under advisement till the next term of the court, when he had but little doubt that it would be granted."

After my admission to the Bar I diligently continued my legal studies, confining myself, however, almost exclusively to American Reports and authors, such as Kent's Commentaries; Story on the Constitution, on Equity Jurisprudence and Pleadings; Greenlief on Evidence; Gould on the Form and the Logic of Pleadings; Bishop on Criminal Law; and many others. I have continued this extensive reading during all of my professional career when books were at hand. Looking back from a standpoint of eighty years' time, I am satisfied that I have read too much, and reflected, reasoned, analyzed, generalized and thoroughly digested too little. I often think of the saying of Locke, the philosopher, that if he had read as much as other men he would have known as little as they. There is much truth in this statement. To read without thought, without reflection, without analysis and a thorough digest of what one reads, is a waste of time. More, it weakens the memory, does not accumulate knowledge, and incapacitates the mind for serious work. While I have no admiration for a correctly-styled "case lawyer," yet, were I to live my professional career over again, I would get my legal principles from a small but well-selected library of authors of established repute; and then I would consult leading cases on each topic or subject, as a help for their proper and logical application. The practice of law consists in the application of a well-defined legal principle to a certain combination of facts. Whether the principle applies is a question for the courts; whether the facts that enter into the definition exist is a question for the jury. But, as I am not writing a legal treatise, I leave the topic here.

My father caught the gold fever, and early in the spring of 1849 started with an ox-team across the plains to the gold-fields of California. He returned in the winter of 1851-2, having been moderately successful. For many years I had been a sufferer from neuralgia. Its painful development was in the forehead. I was a pale and emaciated specimen of the genus homo, weighing less than 150 pounds. My father was of the opinion that the air of the Pacific Coast was rich in ozone, and his physical appearance indicated that his judgment was sound. "Go west, my son," he said; "go to Oregon--not to California--for you would amount to nothing as a miner. You will be subject to a continual alkaline bath on the plains, and this will prepare you for the renovating effects of the salubrious air of the Pacific Coast." My father was not a physician, but I readily consented to take his prescription, provided he would pay the doctor's bill. This he willingly consented to do. I soon found three other young men who had the Oregon fever in its incipient stages. It soon became fixed and constitutional, and they determined to go. A wagon was soon constructed under my father's direction--light but strong, with a bed water-tight and removable, so that it could be used as a boat for ferrying purposes; a strong cover for the wagon, and a tent which in case of storm could be fastened to the wagon to supplement the effectiveness of the cover. Each furnished a span of light, tough and dark-colored horses. White was not allowed on account of their alleged want of toughness and durability. Each was allowed two full suits of clothes and no more, and two pair of double blankets and no more. The object was to prevent overloading. Each was to have a rifle or shotgun, or both, and a pistol and sheath-knife. I am thus particular, because in this day of railroads and Pullman cars, these things are fast passing from memory.

On the first of March, 1852, we left Sturgis, Michigan. Our first point of destination was Cainesville on the Missouri River. We did our own cooking and slept in our wagon when the weather was clement; at hotels and farm houses when it was inclement. None of us had ever tried our hand at cooking before, and our development along that line had a good deal of solid fact, and but little poetry in it. We could put more specific gravity into a given bulk of bread than any scientific cook on earth. Taken in quantity, it would test the digestive energies of an ostrich; but we took it in homeopathic doses. We lived in the open air and survived, as our knowledge of the culinary art rapidly increased. The moral of this mournful tale is:--mothers, teach your sons to do at least ordinary cooking; they may many times bless you in the ever-shifting, and strenuous conflict of life.

I was born and reared in a cold climate; but when the mercury fell, the atmosphere lost its moisture; and while the wind was fierce and biting, it was dry. You can protect yourself against such cold; but when you come to face the cold, damp, fierce and penetrating winds that sweep over the prairies of Illinois and Iowa when winter is departing, they find you, and chill you through any kind or reasonable quantity of clothing.

On account of snow-storms we stopped for a week, in the latter part of March, at a farm-house in the outer settlements of Iowa. The people were intelligent and refined. Our hostess had two lovely daughters, and we young men were at home. Prairie chickens were very abundant in the vicinity, and with my shotgun I more than kept the family supplied while there. Our hostess was a good cook and we lived high. A short distance away was a log school-house also used for a church, and we accompanied the family to church on Sunday. The minister was a Methodist circuit-rider; and while he was not an eloquent man and did not, like Wirt's blind preacher, in the wilds of Virginia, tell us with streaming eyes that "Socrates died like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ like a God," yet with force and emphasis he preached Christ and Him crucified for a sinful world. This was the first church service we had attended since leaving home, and it gave us all a touch of homesickness.

As soon as the storm abated and the weather gave indications of more sunshine and less downpour, we bade adieu to our hostess and her fair daughters, and journeyed slowly onward over horrid roads towards Cainesville. We arrived at this bustling outfitting town on the 23rd of April. We found there a large number of persons and prairie schooners, but most of them were on a voyage to the gold-fields of California. By diligent inquiry I found seventeen wagons, with an average of four persons to the wagon, whose destination was Oregon. We agreed to cross the Missouri River on the 2nd day of May, and on the afternoon of that day we were all safely landed on the western shore. We were now beyond the realm of social constraint, conventional usage, and the reign of the law. It was interesting to me to note the effect of this condition upon a few men in our party. They seemed to exult in their so-called freedom. They spoke of the restraining influence of organized society as tyranny, and of the government of law as government by force. A meeting for organization was called for that evening. I was elected chairman, and in response to a request for my views, I said, that we on the morrow were to start on a journey of over two thousand miles through an Indian country; and while it was reported that the tribes through whose country we were to pass were at peace with the whites, yet it was a sound maxim, in the time of peace to be prepared for war; and that our safety, and that of our property, depended upon our strictness, watchfulness and unity of action, and these beneficial results could only be secured by organization; hence I proposed that, without being myself a candidate for any position and not desiring any, we organize ourselves into a semi-military company by the election of a captain and a first and second lieutenant. A motion was made in accordance with the views expressed by me, and seconded; I declared it open for discussion. One of the persons mentioned above, who thought he had just enhaled the air of perfect freedom, arose and said that he was opposed to the motion; he did not propose to be lorded over by any one; he would be governed by his own judgment and wishes. I replied that we did not propose to lord it over any one, but to govern in all ordinary matters by common consent, and in all matters by the laws of safety and decent morals. The motion was put and it was carried with only five dissenting votes. A vote was taken by ballot for Captain, and to my astonishment I received all the votes but two--one of which was cast by myself for a gentleman who had crossed the plains and who had returned to the States to get married, and, having accomplished that purpose, was returning with his wife and an unmarried sister of hers to his home in Oregon City; the other vote, presumptively, was cast by a gentleman that, on account of his military appearance and the arsenal of weapons which he carried on his person, and his alleged thirst for Indian blood, we styled Colonel. As the Colonel was an open candidate for the office, the opinion prevailed that he had voted for himself. The first and second lieutenants were soon elected and a quasi-military organization was soon formed. The first lieutenant was unpopular with the men. He was a good man, but possessed no fitness for the position; he had much of the _fortiter in re_, but none of the _suaviter in modo_. The second lieutenant was a doctor by profession and was eminently fitted for the position; he was calm, cool in danger, discreet in words and action, and courageous in conduct. Thus equipped, the next morning at eight o'clock we rolled out and made about twenty miles; we camped on a plateau covered with grass and by a brooklet of pure, cold spring water. The second and third days were but repetitions of the first. The fourth day we reached the Loup Fork, a large tributary of the Platte. We ferried over it successfully and resumed our journey across the valley of rather low but rich land, still covered in places with a mass of tall dry grass, the fading glory of last year's beneficence. We were in the Pawnee country. When we were about two and one-half or three miles from the river, from seventy-five to a hundred Indians arose suddenly out of the grass, stopped our teams, and by their unearthly yelling came near stampeding our horses. We were caught unprepared. We did not expect to meet hostiles, or even troublesome Indians within an hundred miles of the Missouri River. Many of the guns were not loaded. A lame chief, pretty well dressed in buck-skin, with a sword by his side, a pistol in his belt, a fine rifle in his hand, and a photograph of ex-President Fillmore, in a metallic frame, on his breast, was in command of the Indians. He, and three subordinate chiefs were standing near the head of the train, and I sent the doctor--the second lieutenant--and another discreet person to confer with them and ascertain what this meant. The other Indians in open order extended the full length of the train, and were about five rods away. All had bows and arrows or firearms. They used the weapons in their movements, with incessant yelling, in a menacing manner. All things being in readiness, I went to where the doctor and his companions and the chiefs were, near the head of the train. I asked the doctor what they wanted. He answered that they wanted one cow brute, a large quantity of sugar, tobacco and corn, for the privilege of crossing their country. They were in a squatting position, marking on the ground the boundaries of the country claimed by them. I told the doctor that we had no cow brute and could not give one; that we had but little sugar and tobacco, and could spare none; that if they wanted corn to plant, we would give them a sack of shelled corn, and no more. They understood what I said, and quickly sprang to their feet and covered the doctor and myself with their guns. I had a double-barreled shotgun by my side. I seized it; but before I could get it into position, the muzzles of the guns were lowered, the yelling ceased, and the sack of corn was accepted as toll. This was to me a new and rather startling application of the doctrine of _posse comitatus_ for the enforcement of an unadjudicated demand; but I have since learned that civilized nations use battleships and cannon for that purpose.