#virtualoregontrail The survivors reach The Dalles

With the magnificent snow-capped peaks of the Cascade Mountains in the distance, the emigrants kept heading north towards The Dalles and the Columbia River. To get there, they would have to cross the Deschutes River. As they traveled, they searched for the best place to make that crossing. The cliffs were steep and the water very swift, so finding a safe place to lower the wagons and ferry across the river was no easy task.

On September 26th, Tetherow and Meek, along with their companies, joined with the Riggs group. It was decided that they would proceed together as one group to the Columbia beginning the following day. Many, like James Field, had contracted Camp Fever. All were hungry and in need of water. Before they left, Samuel Parker noted in a diary that six dead were buried.

For three days they traveled and then had to ascend Bull Mountain, a double-teamed ascent described as "horrendous". Along the way, 5 more dead were buried.

"The place at which we struck the Deschutes river presented the

most unfavorable place for crossing that could be imagined. 

The river is, at that point, four rods wide, flowing between 

perpendicular walls of basalt, the water very deep and the 

current very rapid." 

William A. Goulder
a trail diarist

The group found the smoothest path down and worked together to lower a wagon using drag teams. This first group down included Meek, his wife Elizabeth, and a man named Olney. They devised a system of ropes to use in crossing the river and made it to the other shore. There they borrowed horses from the Indians fishing in the canyon so they could hurry to The Dalles to secure supplies and alert the Mission and community that the wagons would soon arrive. Meek bought food, axes, ropes, and pulleys with his own money and tried to enlist help. The missionaries refused to help as they were occupied helping the local Indians, but an old mountaineer called Black Harris volunteered his service as a pilot. He returned to the canyon with the supplies purchased by Meek.

"He in company with several others, started in 

search of the lost company, whom they found 

reduced to great extremities; their provisions nearly 

exhausted, and the company weakened by exertion, 

and despairing of ever reaching the settlements." 

Joel Palmer
a trail diarist

The emigrants were encouraged by the knowledge that their journey was now near its end, and with the additional supplies, they began work immediately. They caulked the remaining wagons tightly with tar to prepare for the crossing, then lowered them to the river. Indians in the area offered their assistance, and with their help, the livestock, all the people, and the wagons were safely ferried across the Deschutes. They crossed at a place now called "Sherar's Bridge" (on today's HWY 216), a crossing which would become known as the "the most amazing feat of all". 

"Our friends, white and red, are on the opposite bank of the river 

having arrived from The Dalles, bringing axes and ropes and other 

implements and materials to assist in the task of crossing. They are 

led by a brave old mountaineer, one of the noblest...who was known 

to everybody as "Black Harris." They are soon at work improvising 

temporary floating structures and suspension bridges. Pretty soon 

and Indian is seen to plump into the river with the end of a long rope 

in his mouth, and swim over to our side. Now it is necessary for some 

of our party to be on the other side to look out for the running gear 

of the wagons that are fastened to the ropes and thus dragged through 

the water. In order to test the strength of the rope and the safety of this 

method of transit, the rope was passed around my body, just under my 

arms, and I was dragged through the raging torrent to the other side. 

I could but feel that I was in the hands of my friends, not could I be 

insensible to the fact that the water was of icy coldness, just being 

lately arrived from the snowy brow of Mt. Hood. It has been my good 

fortune to enjoy some very cool and refreshing baths, but nothing in 

my experience ever equalled this one. Several of the young men 

followed my example, while the main body of the company waited 

for more elaborate contrivances."

William A. Goulder

Sherar's Hotel and Bridge were built in the 1870s
near where the emigrants made the crossing.
http://tdwhs.nwasco.k12.or.us/wascohistory/comm/sherars/hotel.html

It took about two weeks to get the entire group across the river. Wagon by wagon, with the ill and injured going first, the train was ferried across. Once on the other side, a journey of about 30 miles remained to reach The Dalles. With so many of the emigrants ill, some close to death, this distance was still a long way to go. The suffering endured during these last weeks of the journey was indescribable. More than a dozen people died from the Camp Fever. Others died from malnourishment and dehydration. The oxen, horses and the cattle were also in poor condition. 

The last wagon finally arrived in The Dalles in mid-October. Some of the illest emigrants died in the weeks following their arrival, but others began to gain strength and recuperate. The missionaries at the Wascopan Mission tirelessly nursed the Meek party once they arrived. When well, many hired Indians to take them in canoes or on rafts down the Columbia to the Willamette River, where they continued first to Oregon City, and from there to their final destinations.

The Riggs family, which included son-in-law James Miller Allen, escaped disaster and somehow all arrived alive. James B. Riggs took his family to his claim on Salt Creek in what would become Polk County. They arrived exhausted physically and financially and then had to begin the hard work of settling the homestead.

#virtualoregontrail September 19-25, 1845

Diary of James Field, as published in the Willamette Farmer, continued:

Fri., 19. - Went about 22 miles, road tolerably rough much of the way, camping upon a stream in a deep, narrow glen resembling the Malheur much in character, and which we believe to be Lohum's fork of Deschutes or Falls river.

Sat., 20. - Went about eight miles, camping upon the same stream mentioned yesterday, down which we followed all day, frequently crossing it, and at one narrow pass we were obliged to follow the bed of the river for nearly a fourth of a mile.

Sun., 21. - Went about 16 miles to-day, still keeping down the river, occasionally cutting across the lowest points of the bluffs, and camping upon it again. The hills along the stream upon either hand are covered in many places with tall pines.

Mon., 22. -  Went about seven miles, keeping still down along the river, which has to be crossed every mile or two, and sometimes two or three times in a mile. Camped at the foot of a tremendous hill, which it is necessary to ascend, and which when we first came in sight of appeared to be strung with wagons from the bottom to near the top, several companies being engaged in the ascent at the same time.

Tues., 23. - Went about 12 miles, striking away from the river and camping upon a small branch of it. Had a long and hard pull in the morning to ascend the hill spoken of yesterday, but once up we felt amply repaid the trouble of climbing up by the prospect which lay before us. There were the Cascade mountains stretching along the western horizon, apparently not more than forty miles distant, forming a dark outline, varied by an occasional snow-peak, which would rise lofty and spire-like, as if it were a monument to departed greatness.

Wed., 24. - Went about 15 miles, camping at a spring in the midst of the plains, without a single landmark to tell the situation.

NOTE. - This ends the journal, and we publish below a letter from Mr. Field in regard to the latter part of the journey. - Ed. Farmer.

The Deschutes at its confluence with the Columbia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deschutes_River_(Oregon)#/media/File:Deschutes_River.jpg

Port Chester, N.Y.,

June 3, 1879.

Friend Clarke: 

Through the kindness of my old friend, R. Weeks, of Portland, I am in receipt of three numbers of your paper, containing installments of my diary kept while crossing the plains in '45, with a request that I may complete it from memory. This it is impossible for me to do, as it was cut short by my illness with camp fever, which destroyed all memory of what transpired during the remainder of the journey. I have an indistinct recollection of crossing the Deschutes river in a wagon body caulked tight, and drawn back and forth by ropes, of being carried and laid upon a bed among the rocks that lined the river-banks where we crossed, and of arriving at The Dalles so helpless that it was necessary to lift me out of and into the wagon like a baby. Then I remember going down to the Cascades in a boat such as the Hudson Bay Co. then used on the river, of walking and crawling past the first steep rapid, then getting into a canoe with some Indians and running the remainder of the rapids to the landing place of the old Caliapooia, Capt. Cook owner and master; then of sailing down the Columbia and up the Willamette to Linton, a place on the west bank of the river below Portland, and then having the only wagon-road to the Tualatin plains below Oregon City from the river. From Linton to Oregon City I was a fellow-passenger with old Mr. Fleming, the pioneer printer, so long connected with the press at that place, and I think it was late in November when we arrived there.

When I returned here overland in the spring of '48 I deposited the diary with Capt. J. B. Riggs, of Polk county, and when I returned to Oregon in '50, finding that he had used the blank leaves in the book to keep his business accounts on, I left it with him. If it is still my property, - and I know of no reason why it should not be, - please hand it to the Society of Pioneers, of Oregon. With my compliments I herewith present it to them.

It was written up daily after all my other duties as teamster and general assistant about the camp were performed. It has never been revised by me, and I hope my old companions will overlook any errors I have made.

Your friend,

James Field.

From “The Diary of James Field” Willamette Farmer (Portland, OR, Fridays: April 18 – August 1, 1879). 
1 Aug 1879 (September 18-24 + letter from author) 

https://oregonnews.uoregon.edu/lccn/sn85042522/1879-08-01/ed-1/seq-2/ 

Elam Ethan Allen (1868-1951)

Elam Ethan Allen and Katherine Irene Aplington,
1898 wedding photo, courtesy of Rene Rodgers.

Elam Ethan Allen, my great-grandfather on my dad’s maternal line, led a very interesting life. Several years ago my cousin, Rene Rodgers, passed an old family history book to me. I don’t think I could write it any better so will instead share a few pages of that old book.

“A Narrative of Events in the Lives of the Descendants of William Allen”,

Issued November, 1957 by
Ethel E. Allen, Clan Historian
1286 Elm Street, N.W., Salem, Oregon
Assisted by
Glen and Helen Allen
10 Overlake Court, Oakland, California
First issue, August 1947

Excerpt, Pages 45-48

Page 45                                   

ELAM ETHAN ALLEN, fourth and last child of James Miller and Sarah E. (Butler) Allen

Born October 22, 1868; died July 7, 1951
Elam was born on the Butler Donation Land Claim at Buena Vista, Oregon
Married Katherine Irene (“Rena”) Aplington on December 21, 1898, at Asotin,
Asotin County, Washington. Katherine’s sister, Retta, was second wife of
John Lucas Allen
Katherine was born May 2, 1880, at Almena, Kansas; died January 7, 1951
Both Elam and Katherine are buried in Forest Lawn, Seattle.

                                                                                           

(5) Lois Lee Allen  Born August 21, 1900
(5) Inez Rhea Allen  Born March 24, 1902
(5) Elam Cecil Allen  Born December 14, 1904
(5) Felma Estell Allen   Born September 21, 1906
(5) Edna Ernestine Allen   Born September 16, 1908
(5) Mabel Elizabeth Allen   Born February 2, 1910        Died  July 1910
(5) Laura Beryl Allen  Born July 26, 1911
(5) Isaac Lawson Allen   Born  June 1, 1913
(5) Joyce Wilma Allen   Born May 14, 1915
(5) Helen Lucille Pauline Allen  Born April 2, 1918

Elam’s father, James Miller Allen, had crossed the plains by ox team. (See life of James Miller Allen, p. 19) In 1871 Elam moved with his family to Prineville. They built a log house and also a flour mill, which latter is still standing. His father was school director and Justice of the Peace and often took the place of parson by reading the Scriptures on Sunday mornings. Tragedy came to the family in the death of Elam’s mother soon after they moved to Prineville. When Elam was about eight years old, his family moved to Fifteen-Mile Creek near The Dalles, where they had a farm and mill. They moved later to Dufur then Boyd where they built and operated flour mills.

            One of his duties as a boy was to drive to the hills for the winter’s wood. He was accompanied by his older brothers and since there was an Indian uprising, the trip was fraught with danger and adventure. Adventure was to be the key word of his life and coupled with a marvelous memory for people, events, and places, he was able all his life to keep everyone about him entertained with witty and interesting accounts of episodes and events in his life.

            At sixteen, he hired out as a sheep shearer at six cents a head. He sheared twenty the first day but was shearing sixty-five by the end of the season and also was getting eight cents per head. In 1887 his father died, so following the next harvest Elam went to Pendleton, Oregon, to live with his half-sister, Nancy Crawford, where he went to work in a harness shop. On the side he broke horses at $5.00 a head.

Page 46

 In 1885, he went to Joseph Creek in Asotin County, Washington. With his brother-in-law, Jim Bradley (Pauline Jane Allen’s husband), he went into the cattle business. Joseph Creek was primitive country and he soon felt there would be more opportunity if he sold to Bradley and went into business for himself. Elam filed on land for himself and proved up under one of the last remaining preemption claims in the State of Washington. His claim was on the Snake River and he conceived the idea of bringing calves in by boat. This proved to be a workable idea and he began to prosper. In winter he carried mail from Anatone to Bly, Washington, on horseback. Elam sold his claim to Mr. Greene and bought the Bolton place. At about this time he was married to Katherine Irene Aplington, who had moved with her widowed mother and brothers and sisters from Colorado. He met “Rena” through her uncle, Nathan Aplington, whom Elam had saved from drowning in the Snake River. He not only saved Nathan from drowning but from freezing to death by making him and the two men with Nathan run all the way to the nearest Indian camp of the Chief Joseph tribe, and got help from the Indians in getting them warm and dry again. Nathan never forgot this and became one of Elam’s closest friends.

            Three children were born to Elam and Rena while they lived on the Snake River ranch and as they grew to school age the decision was made to move to a more civilized part of the county. Consequently, they sold out and purchased a harness shop in Anatone, where they built a home. There was plenty of business in the shop. Elam’s brother, Isaac, came out from the East and went into the business with him. The rude awakening came when it was discovered that thousands of dollars were on the books, but people wouldn’t or couldn’t pay. Elam made the discovery then that business involving credit was not for him. He trusted everyone and could not turn down anyone with a hard-luck story. He sold the harness shop and with Isaac moved to the Yakima Valley. For this move they rigged up two covered wagons and drove twenty head of horses and some cattle, which they owned. Other horses pulled the wagons containing the household effects. They swam the livestock across the Columbia River and ferried the wagons. Elam always made the camp bread at the evening stops. This he loved to do by mixing it in the top of the sack of flour.

            One more child had been born to the family at Anatone. In 1908, the Elam Allen family bought a ranch at Outlook in the Yakima Valley and lived there fourteen years. Here the remaining six children and the first grandchild were born.

            On this ranch, hay, potatoes, and livestock were raised. Elam kept breeding stock and doctored all the sick animals for miles around, as well as raising bumper crops of potatoes. He owned good modern machinery and was in great demand for crop harvesting. He employed Indians from the Yakima tribe at Wapato to harvest the potato and sugarbeet crops. He was about the only man who could get along with the Indians and get work out of them, so his crew was also in demand as long as he was the boss. He spoke their language and understood them and they often came to visit during other seasons of the year. The Indians always ate with the family on these visits and often came to use Rena’s sewing machine.

            Elam was referred to as “Spud” Allen or “Potato King” and in 1922 was awarded the Northern Pacific Railway’s potato medal. At the time of his award the family lived at Benton City, but in 1928 moved to Selah, Washington, where Elam worked as Supervisor on a hop ranch.

            After the children were all in school, Rena decided to pursue a vocation she had always liked, that of nursing. She went to a local doctor and through him got a correspondence course in practical nursing. The doctor helped her and soon put her to work on cases under him. She was a born nurse. Everyone loved her. There were always more jobs than she could take. She followed this profession for seven years and finally illness forced her to stop.

            Elam had been making exploratory trips to Oregon. His half-brother had told him how to locate the old trail their father, James Miller Allen, and other immigrants had followed after becoming lost. With his son, Elam Cecil, and a

Page 47

 son-in-law, Guy Michael, he found the buried land marks for which he sought. One of those was an ox-yoke still intact but weather-beaten.

            Elam also went to the Joseph Creek country to check up on a copper mining claim he had filed on years before. This claim probably would be valuable if transportation were available for the ore.

            In 1939 Elam and Rena moved to southwest Seattle to be nearer the majority of their children. Here they built a new home and retired from work, except to care for their beautiful flowers and garden. Elam developed a hobby of writing verses, cowboy songs, short stories, and spent some time on the story of his life.

            He enjoyed telling the reunion groups that he had the largest family of any one present – ten children, twenty-seven grandchildren and thirty-three great grandchildren;

            He passed away in his sleep at his home in Seattle. He was Honorary President of the Allen Clan 1949 and 1950.

- - - -

This poem was written to Lee Niles when he was planning a hunting trip:

Rifle Packin' Daddy

Daddy’s gone a hunting,

You should hear the kiddies cheer,

For all of them are positive

 That Dad will get his deer.

    Mother’s looking out the window,

     The kids can hardly wait,

       For rifle packin’ daddy

         Is half an hour late.

 Hope he doesn’t disappoint us,

     For we are low on points.

    We need a tender juicy steak

       To limber up our joints.

     Just in case he has no luck

      In bringing home the stew

     We’ll send pistol packin’ mamma,

             And see what she can do.  ----

                                     Elam Ethan Allen

THE MISSING LINK

Oft times when writing poetry

  I think with all my might

To find the one word needed

To make it sound just right.

  

Sometimes I write it many times

And think and think and think,

Then finally it comes to me,

The long lost missing link.

 It’s when I go to bed at night,

And lie there seeking slumber,

New ideas pop into my head,

So out of bed I lumber.

Page 48

And when I switch on the light

And make an awful clatter,

I hear a voice calling me,

“What in the world’s the matter?”

“Nothing, dear,” I answer back,

As I make the paper rattle,

“I’ve something preying on my mind

With which I have to battle.”

Then I write the darned thing down,

And get back to bed contented,

And feel like I have written all

That ever was invented. –

                      Elam Ethan Allen, Published in THE MUSE of 1943, (An anthology of poetry)

            Lineage:

(1)   William and Rebecca (Stevens) Allen

(2)   Isaac and Margaret (Miller) Allen

(3)   James Miller and (2) Sarah Elizabeth (Butler) Allen

(4)   Elam Ethan and Katherine (Aplington) Allen

                                                                       

                                                           

Elam Allen, 1950, courtesy of Rene Rodgers

The book was put together by Ethel E. Allen with information gathered from members of the Allen clan who regularly attended reunions in Oregon. It's not known if Elam himself is the one who submitted the information from the excerpt above, but I think he probably did. A disclaimer at the beginning of the volume asks family members to submit corrections for any errors or omissions they should find. As this is the second printing of the volume, it is likely such a disclaimer was printed in the first printing and some corrections have already been addressed in this printing. The pages are all hand typed and total 203, including an index, and are assembled with dividers for the descendants of each of the children of William Allen (1759-1815) and Rebecca Stevens (1768-1855) in a three ring binder. This book is a real treasure.