Fifty Years in Oregon was written by Theodore T.
Geer, a grandson of Joseph Carey Geer and a shirttail ancestor of
ours.
I have put much of the book on
this website. I started because several
chapters describe the early roots of our family history in Oregon. I
kept going because
I found many of the chapters from this perspective on the early
settlers and the history of Oregon to be quite
interesting.
Nowhere in the various
experiences of the people in “the old Bible times,” graphically told, to be
sure, is there a story so fraught with self-sacrifice and daring purpose as that
truthfully narrated by the early Oregon pioneers. In those old days of Moses and
Aaron, Joshua and Noah, David and Solomon, the entire world, as it was known to
them, was little larger than the territory which one now covers in going to a
country fair in the United States. When they left behind them the very best they
had they did not deprive themselves of a great deal. There is not much
difference between the highest and the lowest estate when all men live in caves,
or even when a man will labor for a farmer seven years for his daughter and,
finding a mistake has been made, will repeat the service for any other old girl
in the same household who is disengaged. In such times it is not possible to get
very far from home under any circumstances. But when the missionaries in Jason
Lee’s time left New York for Oregon – the voyage always necessitating a stop at
the Sandwich Islands – it meant a real, live trip. In the old times, a journey
from Jerusalem to Bethlehem was merely a little hike of ten miles, and to
Beersheba but fifty. The Plains of Sharon are but ten miles across – about half
as far as from Portland to Hillsboro – and from Damascus to the mountains of
Lebanon is but fifty miles. I remember hearing Hon. D. P. Thompson, an Oregon
pioneer who for several years was the United States Minister to Turkey, say that
owing to the little distance between points of interest in Palestine, the
attractiveness of the country is noticeably diminished. He said he found the
River Jordan especially disappointing – that it reminded him particularly of the
Long Tom, in Lane County, Oregon, which as all old settlers know is sluggish in
the extreme and utterly without native beauty.
But it was all the world there
was at that time and the old pilgrims went as far as they knew the road and
stopped, of course. They knew of no other place to go. The situation at that
time reminds me of a remark made by Colonel Roosevelt during his recent visit to
Portland. In addressing the Grand Army men, after warmly complimenting them for
their part in subduing the Rebellion, he referred, in passing, to the services
of his comrades and himself in the Spanish War, saying: “By comparison it was
not to be mentioned in the same breath with the affair of ‘61, butit
was all the war there was!”
While comparisons may be
“odious” at times, they are often very instructive, as well as interesting. The
trip of Anna Maria Pitman made to Oregon in 1836 not only meant leaving home and
friends behind, never to be seen again, but a voyage of some ten thousand miles
into an unconquered wilderness. Neither can the motive which prompted her to
make the sacrifice be deemed much less commendable than that which guided many
of the movements recorded in early Jewish history. When the end of the long
journey was in sight, and while the ship was anchored at Honolulu, preparatory
to making the run to the Columbia River, Miss Pitman wrote to her sister in New
York the following letter, which gives a thrilling insight into the motives
which controlled those early missionaries, as well as the fortitude with which
they accepted their cheerless surroundings.
HONOLULU, ISLAND OF OAHU, Dec. 28, 1836.
My DEAR SISTER:
I have taken up my pen to
address you, far from the land of my birth, the home of my childhood and of my
riper years, not with painful but with pleasing and grateful emotions. Truly
prosperous breezes have wafted us onward, until by the goodness of my heavenly
Father I am once more on firm footing. Oh, my dear sister, you cannot enter into
my feelings, neither can I describe them. When I first stepped on the ship at
Boston, the first thought that entered my mind was: “Perhaps I shall never be
permitted to place my feet on land again.” However, I soon succeeded in
banishing the thought by giving myself to the Lord, in whose hands I felt
perfectly safe. If He saw fit to give me a grave in the ocean, I could say, “The
will of the Lord be done.” I have been somewhat afflicted during the voyage, but
I have found it good to be chastised. I have been happy and enabled most of the
time to rejoice in the Lord.
The passage has been good. We
have had much pleasant weather; saw land but once, and that at a distance. When
we came in sight of these islands I was much animated. The first island was
Owyhee, some miles from this. We did not get near enough to distinguish anything
like land – it seemed like one pile of mountains whose tops were covered with
eternal snow – but with the help of the spy-glass we could see the waves dash
upon the shore. On that island there is a burning volcano, but the island is
very fruitful. The natives on all these islands use the same tongue. We came in
port Friday evening, seven o’clock, December 23. Some of our men went ashore
that night, returning the next morning, bringing eggs, milk, cucumbers, bananas
and watermelons. After we had breakfast some of our Presbyterian brethren came
aboard and greeted us with a hearty welcome. We soon left our floating home and
were glad once more to walk on land. Blessed be the name of the Lord for His
preserving care. We were received in the families of this mission with pleasure.
I cannot speak too highly in their praise; really they are examples worthy of
imitation. I feel as though I were among my own people. Oh, when will names be
forgotten, party spirit be removed and all Christians dwell together in unity of
spirit and bonds of peace! Heaven hasten the day when we shall be bound together
as with a three-fold cord that cannot be easily broken.
This extract from Miss
Pitman’s letter, written while en route to her mission of teaching the savage
the saving grace of humility, penitence, brotherly kindness
and
the “oneness of the human race
in God,” reveals the true spirit of the zealous missionary who is dominated more
by a disposition to do good than by a perception of actually impossible
conditions, such as this poor woman and the man who was so soon to become her
husband afterward discovered. But it is very interesting as a part of the
complete history of Oregon, tending to illustrate the only kind of temperament
which could withstand the discouraging environment of those days.
In the same letter, Miss
Pitman abandoned her sentimental and religious reflections and dealt in actual
facts. These are of decided historical interest as portraying conditions then
existing and the early life of some men and women who afterward figured
prominently in public affairs in the new country. Along this line she said:
The day before we arrived,
letters were received from Daniel Lee. He states that they had received
intelligence (through missionaries who had crossed the Rocky Mountains) that a
re-enforcement was on the way to join them. He writes in fine spirits, being
quite recovered from disease. They have had good crops from their farm this
year, have four hundred bushels of wheat, eight hundred of potatoes, all kinds
of vegetables and fish, pork, fowls, etc. They have all had the fever and ague.
J. Lee has just recovered from an attack which left him in a weak state. They
are each, in turn, farmer, blacksmith, cook, teacher, preacher and housekeeper.
In their family, they have eighteen children, whom they teach and provide for.
We are anxious to proceed immediately, but we expect we shall be obliged to wait
until March before we can obtain passage. Dr. White and Brother Beer’s family
live together; they have taken a house and we single ones are in different
families of the Mission. Such a congregation of natives as I beheld on Sabbath I
never expected to see. Truly the Lord has prospered this Mission. I cannot
express my feelings on witnessing such a scene! One thousand or more decently
dressed, assembled together in the Mission chapel, made in native style, seated
in order to hear the Word of Life in their own tongue, was a sight that affected
my heart, not with grief but with joy. After the services several of the natives
shook our hands heartily.
I attended the Sabbath school
– it was interesting, they sing sweetly. It is quite rare for them to see
strangers; we excited considerable notice from them. I realize a good deal of
what I have frequently read, but I know nothing of the trials and difficulties
of a missionary life until I engage in our own field of labor. But the Lord will
be our helper.
How little did this brave
woman dream of the tragic experiences which awaited her in “our own field of
labor.” The date of this letter was December 28, 1836. She arrived at her
destination the following June, was married to “J. Lee” of whom she speaks,
within less than thirty days, and twelve months later yielded up her life at the
birth of a son, who himself lived but a brief hour. Certainly no woman who has
been mentioned in Oregon history has had a career at once so romantic and
pathetic. Her experience will never be duplicated, for the reason that no other
woman will ever make the journey to Oregon and live, even for the brief space of
one year, amid such an environment as surrounded Anna Maria Pitman.
I have never been able to find
any record which would indicate that Jason Lee and his bride had ever met until
that far-off day in beautiful June, 1837, when she arrived at the Mission, ten
miles below Salem, thoroughly imbued with that self-sacrificing spirit which
characterized the missionaries of that day. That under these circumstances there
should have been a wedding, and a double wedding at that – for Cyrus Shepherd
married Susan Downing at the same time, by the same ceremony, evidently before
there was any assurance that a single Indian had been converted – again shows
how irresistible is the dart which Dan Cupid hurls with so little regard for
race, color or previous condition of servitude – or the absence of it. Jason Lee
twice gave tangible proof that he thoroughly accepted the doctrine that it is
not good for man to live alone.
The closing paragraph of this
historic letter of Miss Pitman’s will be found of interest, as reflecting the
impressions which the half-savage surroundings made upon her:
I witnessed one death on our
voyage – our cook, a colored man, died of consumption. Though he was anxious
about his soul, we had but a faint hope in his death; he died delirious. His
funeral was attended with solemn respect. His body was sewed up in a hammock,
with bullets tied to his feet. The American flag was thrown over him as a pall
as he lay on the deck. The ship’s company was assembled while Dr. White read the
burial service. He was then launched into the ocean. A few days after we had
reason to hope for the steward’s conversion; the change in him was great. I
trust our prayers for the crew have not been in vain.
We have had our class-meetings
(on the ship), prayer-meetings, and as often as we could, on Sabbath on deck,
have had worship with the seamen. But some of the sailors are a wicked set of
men. Still, my heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord, and though He slay me yet
will I trust in Him. Surely, goodness and mercy have followed me all my life. I
often look back on the past with pleasure. I often meet with you in spirit
around your family altar and in my class. I have enjoyed seasons there long to
be remembered. I am striving to press my way onward. Oh, pray for me that I may
endure hardness as a good soldier of the cross of Christ. I feel as though you
had not ceased to pray for me. Oh, continue so to do.
I remain yours in the best of
bonds,
A. M. PITMAN. MRS. H. MARTIN.
All these manifestations of
the goodness and sincerity of this pioneer white woman of the Oregon Country, so
directly connected with the early missionary work – which, however, accomplished
more for the ultimate settlement of the Northwest by patriotic Americans than it
did for the “conversion” of the Indians – find an appropriate place here;
furthermore, it should not only be a part of the every-day knowledge of our
grown people, but should be included in the curriculum of our schools. The man
or woman who would be assured of the solidity of a structure, either material or
governmental, should take a deep interest in the manner in which the workmen
proceeded with the construction of its foundation. And Jason Lee, with his wife
and other associates, wrought mightily in the laying of the cornerstone of our
present State government and advanced industrial development.
Next Chapter
- The founding of Willamette University and the role of David Leslie as its initial president.
If you are interested in finding this book, Fifty
Years in Oregon, it can
often be located at Powell's Books in Portland
which is one of the largest used book stores in the United States or, through the
Alibris service
which catalogs used books from stores across the country. For more information on the Geer Family, visit the Geer Family website. Other resources
and references include:
