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.
The most active member of the House in the
session of 1880 in opposition to the passage of the asylum bill was A. J.
Lawrence, of Baker County. He was a lawyer of some ability, a fair speaker,
always in evidence, wore a flannel shirt with the collar unfastened, his
hair showing the effect of an independence of combs and brushes for probably
the preceding five years, and was constitutionally opposed to every bill
that appeared to have any prospect of enactment. He frankly said that he
wanted to make a record for preventing as much legislation as possible – an
ambition not to be particularly censured when directed in some channels.
Lawrence also loved the flowing bowl, the
proof of which was often in evidence during the daily sessions. He was
especially active against the asylum bill at every stage of its progress,
generally relying on the effect of dilatory motions rather than on any sort
of argument. He preferred always to prolong the debates in order to consume
time, hoping by that means to delay bills until the end of the session, when
they might be waylaid for lack of time for their consideration. One of his
chosen methods was to object strenuously to a committee report and, after
pointing out his grounds for opposition, move to refer for amendment. Upon
its reappearance he would move to re-refer – anything for a delay. He was
always the last speaker on any proposition, since, if the debate could be
prolonged by others, his main purpose was attained and he was willing to
remain silent.
Lawrence was a “character,” and his native
ability made of him an opponent to be feared, for he was shrewd and had no
care for the methods employed, so his ends were accomplished. His manner was
peculiar. When it became evident that a debate was drawing to a close, he
would lean forward in his seat, take on the look of a fox, and twirl his
spectacles in one hand while he closely watched the trend of things. This
attitude always indicated that he was about to begin his attack. But we
managed to dodge his flank movements successfully until toward the very last
days of the session, when we had our forces so aligned that we were sure of
the necessary support, provided a vote could be taken at once. We realized
that any delay would be dangerous, for the opposition was very resourceful
and was leaving nothing undone to deflect a vote where it might be possible.
We had agreed to force a vote immediately after dinner and not to engage in
any debate whatever. When this became apparent, which it soon did, Lawrence
could not conceal his surprise, for he had counted upon a prolonged fight on
the floor of the house. When the Speaker ordered the clerk to call the roll
on the passage of the bill, Lawrence, who had been leaning forward and
twirling his spectacles, arose and addressed the Chair, but Speaker Moody,
according to the program which had been formulated, said, “Will the
gentleman from Baker please take the chair?”
Lawrence, who had “ginned up” a little
more than usual for the coming fray, seeing that his game was a losing one
and that his being called to the chair at that particular time was a
prearranged affair, gave up the contest, accepted the situation with a broad
smile and with a decided uncertainty in his gait proceeded up the aisle to
the Speaker’s chair amid the general laughter of the members.
Upon taking the gavel from Speaker Moody’s
hands, he said:
“Gentlemen, the question is, ‘Shall the
bill pass?’ Those who are in favor of the bill will answer ‘aye’ as your
‘noes’ are called and those opposed will answer ‘no’ as your ‘ayes’ are
called. The clerk will call the roll.”
The fact was that his tongue was wobbly as
well as his feet, and the jingle of the usual form of putting the question
was too much for him to master. It was probably five minutes before there
was sufficient decorum restored for the roll to be called in an orderly
manner but the result was a victory, with one vote to spare and all was
well.
The humdrum of ordinary legislation was
relieved during the latter part of the session of 1880 by a reception given
one afternoon to President Hayes and General W. T. Sherman, who were touring
the Pacific coast. Both houses met in joint convention and were addressed by
the President and the hero of the great March to the Sea. It was the first
time a President of the United States had ever been in Oregon and it was
justly counted a great event, but it was plain that the enthusiasm aroused
by the presence of the great military commander surpassed that felt on
account of the visit of the President, though his reception was cordial in
every respect. After the addresses had been made, the President, General
Sherman and Mrs. Hayes stood in lint and greeted the public with a hearty
handshake. I recall that as I took the General’s hand I said:
“General Sherman, this is almost as hard
work as marching to the sea.”
“Yes,” he replied, with his jerky manner
of speech as he reached for the hand of the next man in line “quite as hard
work, but less dangerous.”
On that occasion there was much admiration
expressed for Mrs. Hayes, as there was, indeed, wherever she was known. Her
democratic manner, together with her exceeding simplicity of dress, was a
matter of general comment. It was commonly remarked, I remember, that of the
many hundreds of women who attended the reception, the President’s wife was
without doubt the least expensively dressed. Mrs. Hayes was an American
woman with that best of womanly endowments – common sense!
Before passing from a consideration of
some of the more prominent features of the legislative session of 1880, I
must refer to the fact that the House of Representatives had three members
who were serving their first terms in any official capacity, and who were
afterwards elected Governor of the State, – I refer to Z. F. Moody, George
E. Chamberlain and the writer. Speaker Moody was nominated for that position
by the Republican State Convention in 1882, and was elected over his
Democratic opponent, Joseph S. Smith, who had been elected to Congress in
1868, by a good majority. Mr. Moody made a splendid chief executive in every
respect and at the end of his term, having built a fine residence in Salem,
became a citizen of the capital city and has since resided there. He is now
in his eightieth year, in good health, and bids fair to remain in the land
of the living until he really becomes an old man. During his term the
Legislature changed the time for the beginning of its biennial sessions from
the second Monday in September to the second Monday in January. Under the
Oregon State Constitution, the Governor is not inaugurated until the vote is
officially canvassed and declared by the Legislature, and one result of this
change was the addition of four months to the length of Governor Moody’s
term of office, he having served from September, 1882, until January, 1887.
George E. Chamberlain was a member of the
House in 1880 from Linn County, having come to Oregon four years before from
his native State, Mississippi. He made no special mark during the session
and certainly gave no promise of that remarkable capacity for political
manipulation that has since characterized his career, though the main
ingredient, a cordial handshake, was there, it is recalled, with all its
Southern fervor. It was generally known that he was recently from the South,
and his manner had all the effusive cordiality peculiar to the people of
that section. It was noticeable that he became intimately acquainted with
all the members sooner than any other man had done, or perhaps was able to
do. At the end of the first week he knew Jim from eastern Oregon and Tom
from Jackson familiarly enough to slap them on the shoulder and walk out of
the State House arm in arm with them, thus laying the foundation for the
popularity that had in it the elements which, within two decades, placed
himself twice in the Governor’s office and once in the United States Senate.
Two other men in the session of 1880
deserve a passing mention, John M. Thompson, of Lane County, and William
Galloway, of Yamhill. The session of 1878, at which time Thompson had been
Speaker of the House, had appointed a committee to investigate certain
charges which had been made against the Grover administration, covering
several matters, and Thompson and Galloway were the leading members of that
committee. They were both Democrats and it was expected, in some quarters at
least, that the report would be so arranged .that no political damage would
follow. Thompson and Galloway had, however, adopted the policy of calling a
spade a spade and their report was altogether unsatisfactory to those who
were engineering the matter. The result of this was a determined effort to
defeat them for reelection. This attempt failed in their respective county
conventions and before the people. They were both returned to the session of
1880, a splendid vindication of their course, but were not in good standing
with their political colleagues. There was constant friction among the
Democratic members on this account, and though their party was in a minority
in the Legislature for the first time in eight years – largely, it was
thought, on account of this legislative report – there was enough of ill
feeling to produce continual irritation. Chamberlain ranged himself with the
Old Guard, and so bitter was the feeling that one day he and Thompson had a
personal altercation which, it was generally understood, almost led to
bloodshed, both being armed, it was said, but better counsels prevailed and
the affair passed into history as a harmless episode.
Thompson was a man of quick temper and was
besides in ill health, the latter leading to his death within a short time
after the close of his legislative experience. Galloway, on the contrary,
will probably live to be a hundred years of age – holding lucrative
positions all the time. He owns a fine farm in Yamhill County, but has lived
in some public building most of the time since he became of age, some forty
years ago. He was the Democratic candidate for Governor in 1894 against
William P. Lord, but was defeated. He was for a long time Judge of Yamhill
County and served in the Government Land Office at Oregon City until he
decided he would rather discharge the duties of judge for the Third
District, comprising the counties of Marion, Linn, Yamhill, Tillamook and
Polk. Having come to this conclusion he announced his candidacy and, though
a Democrat, defeated a good Republican in a district that is Republican by
at least two thousand majority. At the end of six years, feeling that he
would enjoy another term, he so informed the electorate – and it came to
pass.
Galloway was raised in Yamhill County and,
when a boy, knew every Indian on the Grand Round reservation – in fact, they
were boys together. He called them Tom, George and Charley, as the case
might be, and they all called him “Bill.” One day, three years ago, he was
holding court in Dallas, and a case was being tried which involved a Grand
Round Indian on a charge of gross misconduct. This Indian and the judge had
been boys together, though the former had always remained on the
reservation. The prosecuting attorney was examining the Indian as a witness
and had flatly contradicted a statement he had made. This so angered him
that he turned to the court and said:
“Bill, that is the truth. You know, Bill,
that I wouldn’t lie !”
“Bill” acknowledged the corn and from the
bench vouched for the uniform good character of the Indian, as an Indian,
and his acquittal soon followed.
Judge Galloway is a man who has the
confidence of those we call the “common people,” is suave always, has the
Chamberlain manner in accosting people, acquaintances and strangers alike,
is a Democrat between campaigns but a non-partisan during their progress,
and is, withal, a good, all ‘round typical Western American citizen of the
pioneer mold – and that is saying a good deal in favor of any man.
Next Chapter -
Geer has a run-in with Sylvester Pennoyer, Governor of Oregon, about the Oregon
Railroad Commission; stories of George Waggoner.
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:
