At Oregon City, which he reached about the twenty-fifth of September (F. X. M.) the first man that he met was Father Waller, the well-known member of the Methodist Society. By this kindly gentleman, Matthieu was at once and very pressingly invited home to supper. “He wanted to hear all about my journey.” Matthieu, however, felt rather delicate about accepting his hospitality. After his hard journey over the last range of mountains he felt outrageously hungry; but, for this very reason, was timid about partaking a “company dinner,” so he began apologizing: “I am looking rough and very dirty,” he said, “Had you not better excuse me?”

“No, no,” said Father Waller, “you must come.”

The neat house, the supper table with its snowy cloth and shining dishes, and the care of the lady, Mrs. Waller, to have a nice repast, greatly impressed the hungry immigrant. But particularly was his appetite whetted, if that were possible, by the sight and smell of potatoes—an article of food he had not seen for months. When seated at the table he was hardly able to restrain himself; he was taken not a little aback, however, when, instead of proceeding to the meal at once, the good missionary began by asking a blessing, which he extended into quite lengthy devotions. “It was the longest prayer I ever heard,” says Mr. Matthieu.

Learning at Oregon City that there were French Canadians on the prairie fifteen miles up the Willamette, he proceeded to Champoeg. Arriving there he found that the settlers in that region numbered nearly three hundred all told. Stopping off at the old landing, he found near this point, about a mile and a half up the river, living upon the river bank, Etienne Lucier, and remained with him during the winter. French Prairie is the borderland between the originally heavily timbered country of the lower Willamette and the more open lands of Marion County and the big prairies of the upper valley. Matthieu found the country of the French settlers even more beautifully diversified than at the present, the practice of the Indians, then but recently discontinued, of burning the prairies over, having brought the whole country for miles together to the condition of a park. Stately groves of fir and oak, or belts of deciduous timber along the water courses, broke the monotony of the grassy levels, while from almost any point of view the panorama of distant mountain scenery was uninterrupted. The Butte, as it was called, which escarped upon the Willamette just below the landing, and from which Butteville takes its name, formed a sightly highland and became a well-known landmark to the voyager of the early day. The name Champoeg, says Mr. Matthieu, is simply a corruption of the French term, Champment Sable—the camp of the sands.

With this Willamette country, however, Matthieu was not at first thoroughly pleased. The deep moss that gathered on the trees and buildings, and the general mildness and moisture of the winter weather, suggested disease, such as fever and ague. He anticipated a hot, sickly summer—which, however, he afterwards found was not the characteristic of Oregon.

Life in this region was entirely Arcadian. The Hudson’s Bay servants had been encouraged to settle upon the rich prairie lands and raise wheat. Doctor McLoughlin, a most shrewd business man, foresaw (F. X. M.) that the Willamette and Columbia valleys would ultimately cease to be fur-bearing country, and sought privileges to the north. His agreements with the Russians of New Archangel, allowing him to trade with the Indians of Alaska, provided, also, that he should supply that post with fifteen thousand bushels of wheat per year. To meet this requirement, the old Hudson’s Bay servants who had served out their time, and by their articles of agreement were to be returned to their native land, were retained as employees of the company, and they were provided, also, with an outfit to begin farming. This consisted of a two-wheeled cart, oxen, plows, a cow, and necessary household furniture, which was to be paid for in wheat—the ordinary currency of the country. The cattle were to be returned; the increase kept. A double outfit was allowed to those who would settle north of the Columbia River. This, as Mr. Matthieu understands, was for political reasons; the British wishing to secure that section by actual settlement and occupation. The convenience, the beauty, and the fertility of the Willamette Valley, however, outweighed in the minds of the farmers the greater liberality of the offer on the north, and most of the Hudson’s Bay people came to French Prairie.

Lucier, Matthieu found, was one of the oldest of the Oregonians, having preceded him by about thirty years. He was one of the old trappers that came with Hunt’s party, of the Astor expedition. In person, this now old man was short and stocky, and of a dark complexion. He was about sixty, and was living with his second wife. The first family of three children were then grown. His second family consisted of two boys, both of whom are now living on French Prairie, one having a family of several children. Among the subjects of conversation with Lucier were the laws and customs of the United States. The old Hudson’s Bay trapper was quite suspicious, and had been told that our government imposed very heavy duties—such as placing a tax upon windows. Matthieu, however, was able to tell him that this was entirely a mistake. The laws of the United States were just and liberal, and under them all men were equal; there was no tyranny. Lucier, who was a very saving and industrious man, and at the end of his service with the company had to his credit the respectable sum of £400, was finally well satisfied with these representations. All the settlers of the Prairie he found to be hospitable in the extreme; they were willing to share with the stranger anything they had. The most of them had native wives, or at least of mixed blood; a number of whom were from Clatsop or Chinook. They were an industrious people and entirely honest. The incident is related that by some mistake as to ownership three sacks of potatoes were once left on the river bank at the portage at Oregon City. There they remained three months, no one disturbing them. The following story also is told of McLoughlin and his wheat buyer: It was the custom of the agent who bought wheat to strike the measure—the wheat not being very well cleaned requiring to be settled in order to give full weight. Seeing him give the measure a number of slow, gentle taps, McLoughlin exclaimed, “Tut, tut,” and gave it one heavy blow; but to his chagrin, and the vast enjoyment of the bystanders, the doctor’s heavy stroke instead of settling the grain only shook it up, and he instantly admitted that the buyer’s way was the best, and with that the farmers were all well pleased, because thereby they sold the best weight—which illustrates not only their simplicity, but their desire to act on the square with the great chief factor.

Names of French-Canadians on French Prairie when Mr. Matthieu first went there, and who all, as he remembers, took part in the provisional government meeting—they are collected from his ledger of the business carried on by him with George Le Roque, at Butteville, beginning in 1850:

XAVIER LADEROUTE

ANTOINE BONANFANT