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CHAPTER 27

Minor Poets from 1850 to 1900

. . . manv poets, worthy of eternal remembrance, have been forgot- ten, merely because there was not room in our memories for all. . . . There never was an age so prolific of popular poetry as that in which we now live. . . . Now, if this goes on for a hundred years longer, what a task will await poetical readers of 1919. LORD JEFFREY.

In addition to the widely known 19th century poets who have been considered, there was during the second half of the century a small group of lesser poets, who should be included in any comprehensive survey of Oregon verse. At least a dozen of these had volumes published and some were the authors of sev- eral volumes. They failed, deservedly or otherwise, to win wide or permanent renown, and their books may now be found mostly in a few large public libraries or among private collections of Northwest Americana. They occasionally produced some poems of genuine merit that deserve to be remembered, but their whole output averaged to no high standard imaginatively or in felicity of expression.

They are significant in our cultural history as showing that in between times of the important writers the creative yeast was all the while in ferment, that there were no long lulls in the fresh wind blowing for literature. Their poems, with a few exceptions, were published locally and usually at their own expense, but mainly in simpler and better format than was the rule after 1900 when there was more of them and when the home-town printer, feeling that the subject called for special treatment, had naive aberrations towards lavender and old lace effects, or ribbons and colored cords, or bright covers, or garnitures from his ​

type cases. In the later period, both the poetry and the printing were often bad. In the earlier period, the reviewer, while panning the matter, often praised the printing. Valentine Brown, who set his own type for four of his books, held to an admirable simplicity, and E. M. Waite of Salem and George H. Himes of Portland sent out some beautiful volumes from their pioneer shops.

The minor poets made their living at some practical occupation and wrote verse on the side. Their efforts must have met with some sympathy in their various communities or they would not have felt encouraged to stand the cost of getting out books to be read by their neighbors. It was said that Robert R. Parrish of Independence was better known as a poet than as a harness maker, though he made much excellent harness for Polk County teams. Apparantly a maker of rhymes and a purveyor of sentiment could thereby increase his status and consequence among his fellows. And it is a happy, happy country for literature and for poetry where a condition like that prevails. The most arid soil for talent is where the weeds are derision; it is still poor and unproductive land where the native growth is indifference; there begins to be fertility with acceptance; it becomes a garden loam with recognition and respect. In Oregon, even in wilderness days, a trapper could compose a poem to Mt. Hood and be thought none the less of by his rough companions; Ewing Young could carry his two-volume Shakespeare up and down thousands of miles of beaver country all during the long years of his wanderings; Sam. L. Simpson could drink and still ​

be highly respected because the Muses dwelt within him, and the Oregon press could ring with the names of a man and his wife from an humble cabin in Can- yon City, their unhappiness in public focus on account of their gift of song; a freshman at the University of Oregon could complain of being kept awake until four in the morning by two sophomore roommates quoting poetry in competition; the Lariat, Colonel E. Hofer's extraordinary poetry magazine, could flourish for several years at Salem; and in 1935 the Oregon City chamber of commerce could jealously rebut the rumor that Edwin Markham's birthplace was on Abiqua Creek.

Is it not indeed by long tradition a happy, happy land for literature, for poetry and for the making of poets—for the making of poets good and bad, since, through the years and by whatever meagerness of ratio, a blessed few will be good; for the making of minor poets in quantity, since, if there are favorable conditions for producing numerous minor ones, some of them in such a nurturing environment will find enough special sun and air to become major ones? Is not this sound doctrine? Else why do gifted individuals spring from folk literature, folk music and folk art? Why are the great poets to be found oftenest in the place and the age where there are the most poets of every sort? Has it not been true of Oregon, out of which, as has been previously stated, have come three men who have given American literature three of its great poems—"Columbus," "Beautiful Willamette," "The Man With the Hoe."

In this chapter are included four of the bes ​t known

of the minor poets from 1850 to 1900, with brief biographical sketches and selections from their poetry. To make the record as complete as possible, ten others for this period are listed with their books, and several are mentioned who did not write books but contributed to the newspapers and magazines.

Ewing Young's two-volume Shakespeare was sold to C. M. Walker for $3.50 at the first auction sale of the estate on May 26, 1841. Three years before this Mrs. Jason Lee of Willamette Settlement had written to her husband the farewell poem given on page 67, and five years later Mrs. Margaret Jewett Bailey of French Prairie, author subsequently of Ruth Rover, contributed to the Oregon Spectator such verses as "Affliction," with the beginning stanza—

Behind some logs an iris grew, A roof withheld the falling dew, And once I wondered much to see A drop as pure as drop can be, Sit laughingly upon each leaf Like joy upon the eye of grief. and "May Morning in Oregon," which is printed on page 166. Edwin Markham has been quoted as saying that his mother, Elizabeth Markham, who wrote verses for the Oregon Spectator for several years, beginning in 1848, was "the earliest woman writer recorded in Oregon." In fact, these two women preceded her, one by ten years, the other by two, and Mrs. Bailey was a considerably more competent poet than Mrs. Markham, with whom, however, this chapter will begin, since the other two have been previously considered. ​

In 1847, five years before Edwin Markham's birth, his father, and his mother, Elizabeth Markham, came to Oregon City, where they lived for ten years. In 1857, when the poet was five, they moved to California, taking up sheep and cattle raising in a little valley in the Suisun Hills of Mendocino County. His father died in 1859, but his mother, who seems to have been at all times the better manager of the two, continued to run the ranch, justifying her son's description, "My mother was a Roman matron, a woman of power, one who could have led an army to battle. . . ."

Dr. J. B. Horner referred to her as "a stern mother with a poetic taste." Of the character of her poetry her son has said, "Her verse celebrated all the local affairs, such as the arrival of ships, the deaths of pioneers, the flight of strange birds." She began contributing to the Oregon Spectator in 1848, and, in sober truth, that paper printed much local verse that was better than hers. It is to be feared that if her son had not become a great poet nothing would have been heard in these late times of her poetic efforts. While he was in Oregon in May, 1921, he was given a souvenir pamphlet of his mother's verses collected by J. D. Lee from the early numbers of the Spectator, from 1848 to 1851. There were twelve of them for those three years, so that if she was not the Spectator's best poet she was perhaps its most prolific and steadfast. The pieces bore the following titles: "A Contrast on Matrimony," "Hearts May Warm the Winter," "The Maiden's Dream," "Imaginary Ship Wreck," "The Departure," "My Native Home," "Voice of Intemperance," "The Dream of Ambition," "Woman," "Road to Oregon," "Lines," "Friendship."

Lines

Composed whilst the hot Whitcomb made her first ascent of the Rapids. The Lot Whitcomb, plying between Oregon City and Portland, had been hung up on a sand bar for some days. Edwin Markham tells how the editor of the Oregon Spectator, shirt-sleeved and ex- cited, rushed into his mother's store and said: "Mrs. Markham, the Lot Whitcomb is coming—the Spectator is ready to go to press. I want you to write a poem in honor of the Lot Whitcomb getting off the sand bar. I will wait for it. Can you have it done in half an hour?" In this journalistic haste, she wrote the poem, "perched on a stool at the counter in her s ​tore."

Lot Whitcomb is coming! Her banners are flying— She walks up the rapids with speed; She ploughs through the water, Her steps never falter— Oh! that's independence, indeed. Old and young rush to meet her, Male and female, to greet her, And the waves lash the shore as they pass. Oh! she's welcome, thrice welcome, To Oregon City; Lot Whitcomb is with us at last. Success to the Steamer, Her Captain and crew, She has our best wishes attained. Oh! that she may never While running this river Fall back on the sand bar again. E. M. OREGON SPECTATOR, JUNE 5. 18)1. 2 John Minto of Salem John Minto was a pioneer leader in horticulture and sheep hus- bandry in Oregon, and is best known for his prose writings on these subjects and for his historical sketches on the early days. His inclu- sion among the early poets is based on a small group of swinging, buoyant rhymes. He was born in 1822 in England, coming to the United States in 1840 and to Oregon in 1844, where he took up a claim south of Salem. In 1847 he married Martha A. Morrison, the eldest daugh- ter of Captain R. W. Morrison of Clatsop Plains. After the Whit- man massacre he was a member of Captain Levi Scott's company that unsuccessfully attempted to cross the Siskiyous in winter to California as an escort to Jesse Applegate. "It was probably at his house that the first Farmers' Club ever formed in Oregon met in 1853." He was later manager of the Oregon State Agricultural Society, and edited the Willamette Farmer for a year. He was ​member of the State Legislature for several terms. He died in Salem in 1915.

He wrote frequently for the Oregon Historical Quarterly. Although his Rhymes on Life in Oregon was not published in book form until 1909, the eleven pieces in it were written at various times from 1861 to 1896. The same collection appeared later, with the addition of some prose, under the title Rhymes of Early Life in Oregon and Historical and Biographical Facts.

Rob Roy Parrish, whose full name was Rob Roy McGregor Parrish, entertained poetic fancies while he made harness amidst the fresh, leathery smells of his shop at Independence. He was born in Ohio on January 15, 1846, but at the age of eight moved to Iowa, where he mastered the harness trade. In 1863, at the age of 17, he crossed the plains to Oregon with his brother. They came to Salem but left the next day for Independence. There for 27 years the poet made bridles, halters, reins, traces and all the articles of gear worn by many hard-working horses in Polk county and across the river in Marion. In 1900 he left for California, where he lived until his tragic death in 1924. On March 11 of that year, after a period of deep despondency, he took his own life in a boarding house at Schulavista. The Oregonian of March the 12th, giving a report from San Diego, stated that Parrish had been there for some time, coming "with a few hundred dollars which he deposited in a bank. Saturday he drew his last $10 and remarked to the paying teller at the time that it meant the end of everything for him. Among his effects was found a copy of the last song he wrote and in this he predicted death for himself. The verse said that spring was calling for the youth and that the fields were bright for the maid,

His 159-page book, Echoes from the Valley, was published by George H. Himes in Portland in 1884.

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Valentine Brown of Portland

Valentine Brown was his own publisher and his own printer. He was the author of about a thousand pages of verse, all of which he put into type with his own hands. Although the first of his five books was not published until 1900, he is placed in the 19th century because his writing began back in the middle 8o's. He was a poet entirely for his own enjoyment and he printed his books to give away to his many friends.

He was born in what is now the Irvington district of Portland on November 10, 1862. He had a newspaper route when he was 11 years old. Later he was flyboy on the Bee office press and print er's devil on the East Portland Vindicator. In 1877 he entered Bishop Scott Academy, remaining there for three years. For the succeeding three years he followed the seas, and then for four years was a railway mail clerk between Portland and Spokane. While on the mail run he made $20,000 trading in Portland eastside property, and increased this to $35,000 when he opened a real estate office of his own. He lost it all in the panic of 1893. He married Jennie Ham, the daughter of Isaac Ham, in 1889. After the panic and his loss he studied law, passed the bar examination, and spent the remainder of his life as an attorney and poet.