“There are three different tribes of Indians in Olympia now, all different,—the Nisquallies, Chissouks, and northern Fort Simpson Indians. A curious sight it is to see them. They are all gambling, their mats spread on the ground; and you will see groups of fifty seated on the ground, and playing all day and night. The town is full of them. Mr. Stevens has them right under his thumb. They are as afraid as death of him, and do just what he tells them. He told the chiefs of the tribes he would not let them disturb the whites. That night they kept up an awful howling and singing, making night hideous like a pack of wolves. Mr. Stevens got up, took a big club, and went right in among them, and talked to them, and told them that the first man that opened his lips he would knock down. The chief said, ‘Close’ (All right), and not another sound came from them that night. When he came back, he said the biggest lodge was full of men sitting in a circle around a big fire, smoking and singing.”
Returning from the Chehalis council, Governor Stevens remained the next two months in Olympia, hard at work with his multifarious duties, reviewing legislative acts, preparing reports of the councils and treaties, instructing the Indian agents, and attending to the unceasing cares and questions arising from the Indians, and preparing for the trip east of the mountains. In April he made the arduous horseback and river trip to Vancouver, and there met Superintendent Joel Palmer, of Oregon, by appointment, having previously invited him, in order to arrange with him in regard to the proposed council with the Indians of the upper country, some of whom were within General Palmer’s superintendency.
This spring began the San Juan Island controversy with Great Britain, which came near involving the two countries in war, and lasted with various phases for eighteen years, until it was finally decided in favor of the United States by Emperor William I., of Germany.
By the treaty of 1846 the main ship-channel which separates the continent from Vancouver Island was fixed as the boundary from the point where the 49th parallel intersects the Gulf of Georgia, in order to give the whole of that island to Great Britain, for the parallel intersects it. It happens, however, that there are two channels, with a valuable group of islands between them, answering this description. The Americans claimed the western-most, the Canal de Haro, which runs next to Vancouver Island, and is the shorter, broader, and deeper, in every respect the main ship-channel, while the English insisted that the eastern channel, Rosario Straits, was the proper boundary. The shrewd and aggressive officers of the Hudson Bay Company at Victoria, Sir James Douglass at their head, originated the British claim, which otherwise had never arisen, so little merit had it, and in order to gain a foothold on, and claim possession of, these valuable islands, placed a flock of sheep on San Juan, and stationed there a petty official of the company. The island was included in Whatcom County by act of the Washington legislature, the property thereon became subject to taxation, and the sheriff of the county levied upon and seized a number of the sheep in default of payment of taxes.
Sir James Douglass thereupon addressed Governor Stevens, complaining of the seizure, and demanding to know if the sheriff’s proceedings were authorized or sanctioned in any manner by the executive officer of Washington Territory. The governor promptly replied, May 12, 1855, and firmly and uncompromisingly asserted the American right, and justified the sheriff. After reciting the acts of Oregon and Washington assuming jurisdiction over the islands, he continued:—
“The sheriff, in proceeding to collect taxes, acts under a law directing him to do so. Should he be resisted in such an attempt, it would become the duty of the governor to sustain him to the full force of the authority vested in him.
“The ownership remains now as it did at the execution of the treaty of June 11, 1846, and can in no wise be affected by the alleged ‘possession of British subjects.’”
The correspondence was communicated to the Secretary of State, who in reply deprecated any action by the territorial authorities pending a settlement of the question by the respective governments, and the dispute remained in abeyance until excited some years afterwards by another British act of aggression. Had our government firmly asserted its undoubted right at this time, the matter would have been settled. To the resolute and patriotic stand of Governor Stevens on this occasion, and his subsequent course in defense of this American territory, as will be seen hereafter, were due the ultimate defeat of the persistent and hard-fought British demands.
At this time the governor purchased of William Taylor for $2000 his donation claim, a fine tract of half a section, 320 acres, six miles southwest of Olympia, and in the northwestern corner of Bush Prairie. It comprised a few acres of prairie, over a hundred acres of heavy meadow, and the remainder in heavy fir timber. A small house and a field fenced off the prairie were the only improvements. The governor always took great interest and pleasure in the soil, in gardening and farming. He soon put a man on the place, and laid out extensive plans of improving it.
In April the Democratic convention met in Olympia to nominate a candidate for delegate in Congress, to succeed Judge Lancaster. The delegates assembled in a large store building on the southwest corner of Main and First streets, belonging to George A. Barnes. Governor Stevens was a candidate for the nomination. He was desirous, after completing his treaty operations and returning from the Blackfoot council, to represent the Territory in Congress, and there push forward his plans for the public service, further railroad surveys, wagon roads, mail routes, steamer service, Indian treaties and policy, and, above all, the Northern Pacific Railroad. Many of the first settlers were strong in his support, recognizing how much such a man in Congress could accomplish for the Territory. There were two other candidates, Judge Columbia Lancaster, very anxious to succeed himself, and J. Patton Anderson, United States marshal, who had traveled all over the Territory in taking the census the previous year, and, it was said, had diligently improved his opportunities as census-taker by paying court to all the women, kissing all the babies, and pledging all the men to support him for delegate. He was a man of good appearance, cordial, pleasant Southern manners, and well calculated to make friends. The convention divided between the three candidates, and balloted an entire day without result. In the evening the candidates were invited to address the convention. Colonel Shaw, who was one of the governor’s supporters, although not a member of the convention, says that he advised the governor not to accept the invitation, lest the friends of the other candidates, hearing him speak, should become alarmed at his ability and power, and combine against him. Such advice was the very last that the governor, with his straightforward and positive character, would relish. He went before the convention, and in a forcible and patriotic speech, without reference to himself, set forth the needs of the Territory, and the public measures required for its advancement, so ably and clearly that his friends were delighted, and felt sure that he would be chosen on the next ballot. But it turned out as Shaw feared. Although he gained votes, his opponents combined on Anderson, and nominated him, some of them exclaiming, “It won’t do to nominate the governor, for if he once gets into Congress, we can never get him out again.”