From a hurried trip to Southern Oregon not undertaken with any view of pleasure or sightseeing, the writer returns more in love with Wabash County as a place to live where the enjoyments of home life among a settled and civilized people
are at hand.
    ''The Italian climate of the slope" forms the warp and woof of conversation addressed to everybody who reaches the Pacific Slope, as the "boon" nowhere else to be found. It is true that in the narrow valleys of Southern Oregon the weather is not severe, but it is nevertheless true that climate alone will not suffice to subsist upon. The high-sounding stories of the great agricultural resources of Oregon is
purely the work of real estate agents who hope to induce emigration to that state that sales of the rocky barren soil of the narrow valleys may be effected. Farming as understood here cannot be carried on in that state at all. The crops raised there are wheat, oats, barley and potatoes. The latter can be grown only where irrigation is possible, and in fact outside of the famed Willamette Valley no success with gardens even is expected without irrigation. Outside of its mines and the immense growth of timber which cover the mountains and hillsides Oregon has no real attractions for settlers. On the 18th of March grass was perhaps two inches high, what little there was of it, and people were making gardens, children barefoot, but they acknowledge that mercury reached zero at one time during the last winter. As for the wide stretches of sagebrush and rocks that constitute all that is visible of Western Idaho and Wyoming territories no one not intending to engage in cattle-raising has any business there. What the cattle subsist on is a mystery to a Hoosier, but large herds of starving cattle are to be seen every day and five dead carcasses at one place is no uncommon sight. It is true that losses of cattle during the past winter is perhaps greater than ever before.
    The whole country east of the Cascade Range of mountains that divides Eastern from Western Oregon was last week covered with snow, and through the different mountain ranges crossed by the Oregon Short Line R.R., running from Green River in Wyoming to the Columbia River a distance of about 900 miles, the snow was in many places six feet in depth.
    Through Nebraska evidence of new arrivals was to be seen at every station, where many men and teams were busy loading household goods on wagons to move to claims on the adjoining prairies. Sod houses are seen occupied, and others soon to be occupied, as homes for families that perhaps had enjoyed the comforts of a more comfortable home in the East. In our way of thinking the pluck  and industry that will have to be displayed by the successful ones there if applied here would obtain a home and a good living in this country where they as well as their families could have the benefits of schools, churches and society from the start. Of course all cannot be suited here, but before taking a departure for the West the matter should be given a great deal of thought if you would not regret the move. In short let well enough alone.
The Journal, North Manchester, Indiana, March 29, 1888, page 2

EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE.
Growth of Jackson Co.--Crop Prospect--Some Enterprising Places.

Morning Daily Herald, Albany, May 2, 1888, page 1


To the Editors of the BEACON:
    That I may briefly answer the many inquiries of my friends and neighbors as to how I am and where I am I have concluded to drop you a few lines. My wife and I are now visiting at the home of her nephew, Daniel Sherwin, at this place. We are 30 miles southwest of Salem, and about 50 miles from the sea coast, and every afternoon get the sea breeze from the Pacific. We expect to visit the coast before long, and this means quite a trip, as we have the Coast Range mountains to climb. We have passed most of the time in Grants Pass.
    Now, about Oregon. I have seen considerable of it the past two months. Southern Oregon has the finest climate, the finest fruit and the finest scenery I ever saw. Jackson County has one fine valley about fifteen miles long by about three to eight miles wide; the rest is mountainous. Counties out here are not like yours in size, some of them being 100 miles long or more. Josephine County is not so good for farming as Jackson County but has more timber, while their mining interests are about equal. Considerable gold is mined yearly, and was it not for the fruit and gold you would hear nothing of all Southern Oregon. From my travels I would estimate that not one acre in a thousand was fit for farming; yet much of the mountain land will raise good fruit and vineyards. Fruit needs no irrigation, but all the vegetables must be irrigated. About a month since I thought if there was any good land in the state I would see it. I have traveled through the Umpqua Valley and am now in the middle of the Willamette. The Umpqua Valley is very broken. It was once a great stock country but the feed is now gone. They had cattle but soon had to get sheep, and now only goats can be raised, for they can live mostly on browse. No grass, but very little grain and lots of fruit. Farms are cut up too much like the old country to suit Iowa farmers. They range from 500 to 2,000 acres each, and though they want to sell they won't sell an acre unless they sell it all. The price is very high. In some localities a person can travel all day and not find a school house, owing entirely to this system of large farms. The lack of school houses is a very noticeable feature to Iowa travelers. The Willamette Valley is the place where they raise their grain, and if they could raise corn they would be all right; as it is Iowa beats them. The land here is very foul. Plows must be kept going all summer to have the land ready for the next year's crop. Consequently twice as much land has to be cultivated if we count the labor. It stands, "climate and fruit vs. grain and blizzards." I would advise eastern people to think well and go slow about selling and be careful not. to sacrifice too much for climate and fruit. One more thought: Farm implements cost a third more here than there.
Spirit Lake Beacon, Spirit Lake, Iowa, May 18, 1888, page 1

    Ed., Capital Journal:--Here are a few hasty notes of travel. The state central committee having arranged for a tour through Jackson County, (a Democratic stronghold), to wind up with a nominating convention for a county ticket at Medford, I started on the 25th inst., at 6:30 p.m. on the California express, for Gold Hill. The Democrats not having furnished any money for election purposes (no, I mean the Republicans, because now we shall be called "a Republican aid society,'' since our converts are from the Democratic party), I could not afford a sleeper, but took a nap by spells, cramped up on my seat. Passed Oakland and Roseburg by night, and will do so on return, so cannot see that part of the country.
    Morning revealed Grants Pass, much grown and improved during the last few years. The busy sugar pine mill has been removed, the timber having been worked out in this neighborhood. For early breakfast arrived at Gold Hill; this is a railroad and mining town, rather dull because the best producing quartz mine, that was paying well, has been temporarily shut down, a game of freeze out, as I understand, between the co-owners. The farming land around here is limited in space but good in quality. A large farm with considerable improvements is under negotiation for $40,000, for a number of New Yorkers to settle on.
    Fruit does well here. A large ditch, sixteen feet at the base, is being surveyed to bring water to town for mining and manufacturing purposes. A cannery is also seriously talked of by Lusk, of San Francisco. The spirit of enterprise in this little place, as in all Southern Oregon, is commendable. It should be imitated by Salem, which has so many more advantages, and is surrounded by so large an area of tillable and fertile soil.
    I spoke in the school in daytime and to adults at night. Rev. J. R. Roberts, a Southern M. E. preacher, took me on to Sams Valley, a very attractive little strip of country. A Californian has recently bought a farm here of a few hundred acres, for $10,000, and he is raising large fields of alfalfa for his fine stock of cows and horses. Stopped at the school and gave the children half an hour's talk on education and prohibition. (Our party is after the coming voters.) Also gave a political address at night.
    Drove next day through a gravelly and chaparral country, with very little grass this dry season. Many settlers have taken up land, who have built rather poor shanties; but occasionally good patches of land are seen, which, under cultivation, look well. Peach trees look thrifty, no curl leaf, and as yet uninjured by frost, except the very early kind of that fruit. But the growers never feel quite safe here till the middle of May. The apples are said to be blooming quite shyly.
    Talked thirty minutes to a large and interesting school called Antioch, out in the chaparral. Also addressed a large audience in the evening, who were so slow in getting together that we did not begin till 9 o'clock. My  audience so encouraged me by their close attention, that I continued my address till nearly 11. Drove ten miles and reached bed by 2 a.m. Here my excellent friend Mr. Roberts left us, affirming his allegiance to the prohibition party, and severing his lifelong connection with the Democrats. Rev. E. G. Jones, Baptist, a southerner and Democrat, and Rev. N. C. Howlett, ditto, also joined their ranks. They will be delegates to the county convention. Elders Martin, Peterson and Fleming, also old Democrats, took this step some time ago.
    I was introduced to a one-day-old Democratic convert to the prohi party, and was congratulating my self that my "burning eloquence" had won him over, when, lo! it turned out that instead of attending my meeting he had been to the Democratic primary, where the sight of so much drinking and inebriety had caused a political divorce right then and there. Of course, he could not reconcile himself to going into the Republican fold, and so he enlisted under the temperance banner. He was nominated by the prohis for county commissioner.
    On Saturday evening spoke at Eagle Point to a crowded house, and obtained a number of names for the club. Spent Sunday at Mound school house with Elder Peterson, preaching thrice. Here I visited some newcomers from California who have bought a home. They report very dry weather in Central California, and predict short crops. They say that along the railroad line towards Oregon, beyond Redding and Shasta, land is being taken up rapidly and settled where irrigation is possible. Marion County ought to advertise down there our marvelous cheap lands, considering its excellent quality, never-failing crops, and its many other advantages. An old neighbor of mine, in Santa Barbara, an extensive merchant, has just bought a home here, ten miles from a railroad, on the ragged edge of "the desert," for his wife's health.
    Dined at Medford with one of my church members, whom I knew in California, Mr. Fowler, who has come up with his family and expects to stay. For a specimen of a red-hot, ex-Democratic prohi, commend me to him. And if you want to wave a red rag in his face and make him indignant, just intimate that not many Democrats turn prohibitionists, or express a doubt of their sincerity when they do. Whew! A full ticket was nominated today, and an active canvass is to be made.
    It is very dry here, and a north wind is blowing. Grass and grain will suffer soon if rain does not come. The signs are not promising. Mr. Walker was lately visiting his brother in Salem, and expressed surprise at the low price of land there. He believes the boom will reach Willamette Valley, and land will advance to $100 an acre.
Capital Journal, Salem, May 2, 1888, page 1


    EDITORS HERALD:--By your permission, I will add another letter in regard to this part of the far-famed Pacific Coast. Since my last letter, written at Albany, June 4, I have traveled several hundred miles, and seen a good deal of Oregon. I have preached every Lord's day twice, and put in as many nights as was practicable under the circumstances. For almost a month I have been in what is known as "Rogue River Valley," a district which in size and importance is second only to the Willamette Valley. To get from one to the other by the O.&C.R.R. it is necessary to cross a range of mountains called the "Umpqua" range. They are penetrated by ten tunnels, and the intervening canyons are bridged with fearful-looking trestle work. In roughness the country equals anything I had before seen, and the land is entirely worthless for all practical purposes whatever.
    The land in this valley is as level as a Kansas prairie, and some of the soil is very productive. The black land is unpleasant to cultivate owing to its extreme stickiness when wet. But a large percent of it is coarse gravel land, entirely unproductive unless thoroughly irrigated. It grows a few worthless bushes, and is called "chaparral land." A more common, and more significant, name however, is "desert"!
    Rogue River Valley is said to contain about 400 square miles and is watered by a most beautiful mountain river which gives its name. It is said to afford an abundance of fish; but, owing to a general lack of enterprise the most of them pass along in the sparkling waters unmolested! I have only had the pleasure of sampling a single specimen of the finny tribe since I came here; a well-cooked portion of a fine salmon. The river makes a N.W. course from its source near Klamath Lake in the Cascades to the Pacific Ocean.
    The country here is noted as a perfect fruit-growing country in the recent accounts of this coast, and this state in particular. Yet a stranger is greatly surprised to find how few persons are engaged in the business, and how many old settlers are living entirely without fruit of any kind! In my travels I seldom find fruit in any shape upon the bill of fare. The climate here is no doubt favorable for fruit growing, but in some localities the frosts are damaging, and much of the soil has to be artificially watered in order to ensure satisfactory results. But the great drawback is the distance this valley is from a good market. The packed fruit has to be carried several hundred miles either north or south before it can start direct for an eastern market. That difficulty will, however, be obviated to some extent, if O.P.R.R. is extended to Boise City.
    If the bread and butter question could be adjusted by looking at beautiful scenery, I would advise all my friends to come here to live. The landscapes are picturesque and beautiful in every direction one can look. There is a fringe of mountains reaching entirely around the valley; and the foothills rise in every conceivable size and shape. In the background stand in their majesty the mountain peaks covered with perpetual snow. Some of the mountain slopes afford considerable pasture, and stock is raised on them at little cost to the owners. Others are entirely barren of vegetation, and covered with the most unsightly rock.
    I spent two days and nights among the miners at "Gold Hill," and preached to them both nights. They gave a most respectful hearing, and treated me with marked kindness. I felt very sorry for some of them, young in years, inexperienced, and far away from mothers and sisters, and all others who feel a real interest in their welfare. In conversing with the prospectors I was forcibly reminded of Dr. Young's poetical truism: "Man never is, but always to be blessed!" My advice to your readers is to shun the mining regions from almost every consideration. Where one man gains a fortune a thousand miss it; and a large percent are hopelessly ruined in every way. The great enemy of the mining camp is the saloon! It has no mercy on its victims
    There is both timber land and prairie here, but the former predominates. The most of it is evergreen, and embraces most of the varieties of the pine family. One of the most valuable varieties is called the sugar pine and it grows very large. The lumber made from it is almost entirely free from knots. Farther back in the mountains cedar is abundant; the most valued variety of which is the yew tree. It is said that posts remain in the ground a quarter of a century perfectly sound. There are vast quantities of beautiful evergreens all over the country on hillside and in the valley; but they have no value whatever in this country because of their abundance and the impossibility of transferring them to other lands.
    Finally, my judgment is that Oregon is a poor state to emigrate to. I have not seen a Kansan here who does not ardently desire to get back. They are all trying to sell out, but it is a hard thing to do. People who are footloose had better go slow in reference to buying homes in this country.
Clyde Herald, Clyde, Kansas, July 25, 1888, page 1


    Jacksonville has an old and decayed appearance, for there is no new building going on to make an era of progress and development. The railroad gave it the "go by," to all intents and purposes. The mines that created the place and made it once a center of extravagant life and unusual prosperity have become exhausted. The creek that brought down gold in rich placers is worked out, and all its golden wealth is exhausted. It was possible, it is said, to have induced the railroad builders to have located their route near enough to Jacksonville to keep its health and prominence undisturbed, but they failed to appreciate the necessity, and nothing now can give animation and vitality to the place beyond the fact that some good country is tributary to it and must bring trade there.
Excerpt, "Fruit Growers of Southern Oregon Meet at Ish's Grove, Near Jacksonville," Oregonian, Portland, October 2, 1888, page 6


    Jackson County, from Andrew Jackson, president, was created January 12, 1852, out of the territory lying south of Douglas, comprising the Rogue River Valley and the territory west of it to the Pacific Ocean. Its boundaries have been several times changed, by adding to it a portion of Wasco and taking from it the county of Josephine, with other recent modifications. Its present area is 4,689 square miles, one-third of which is good agricultural land, about 91,000 acres of which is improved. Corn and grapes are successfully cultivated in Jackson County in addition to the other cereals and fruits. The valuation of its farms and buildings is over $1,600,000, of livestock half a million, and of farm products over half a million annually. The valuation of taxable property is nearly two millions. The population is between eight and nine thousand. Mining is the most important industry, the placers still yielding well to a process of hydraulic mining. Jacksonville, founded in 1852, was established as the county seat January 8, 1853, and incorporated in 1864. It owed its location, on Jackson Creek, a tributary of Rogue River, to the existence of rich placers in the immediate vicinity, yet unlike most mining towns, it occupies a beautiful site in the center of a fertile valley, where it must continue to grow and prosper. It is now, as it always has been, an active business place. The population has not increased in twenty years, but has remained stationary at between eight and nine hundred. This is owing to the isolation of the Rogue River Valley, the ownership of the mines by companies, and the competition of the neighboring town of Ashland. Bowles' New West, 449; Hines' Or., 78-9; Bancroft (A. L.), Journey to Or., 1862, MS., 44. The town of Ashland, founded in 1852 by J. and E. Emery, David Hurley, and J. A. Cardwell, and named after the home of Henry Clay, has a population about equal to Jacksonville. It is the prettiest of the many pretty towns in southern Oregon, being situated on Stuart Creek, where it tumbles down from the foothills of the Cascade Range with a velocity that makes it a valuable power in operating machinery, and overlooking one of the most beautiful reaches of cultivatable country on the Pacific coast. It has the oldest mills in the county, a woolen factory, marble factory, and other manufactories, and is the seat of the state normal school. Cardwell's Emigrant Company, MS., 14; Ashland Tidings, May 3, 1878. The minor towns in this county are Barron, Phoenix, Central Point, Willow Springs, Rock Point, Eagle Point, Big Butte, Brownsboro, Pioneer, Sams Valley, Sterlingville, Thomas' Mill, Uniontown, Woodville, and Wright.
    A pioneer of Jackson County is Thomas Fletcher Beall, who was born in Montgomery Co., Md, in 1793, his mother, whose maiden name was Doras Ann Bedow, being born in the same state when it was a colony, and dying in it. In 1836 his father, Thomas Beall, removed to Illinois, and his son accompanied him, remaining there until 1852, when he emigrated to Oregon, settling in Rogue River Valley. In 1859 he married Ann Hall of Champaign Co., Ohio, then living in Douglas Co., Or. They have 12 children--8 boys and 4 girls. Beall was elected to the legislature, and served at the regular session of 1864, and at the called session of 1865 for the purpose of ratifying the 15th amendment of the U. S. Constitution. He was again elected in 1884. He has served as school director in his district for 25 years, less one term.
    John Lafayette Rowe was born in Jackson Co., Or., in 1859, his parents being pioneers. He married Martha Ann Smith, Jan. 1, 1883.
    Mrs John A. Cardwell, widow first of William Steadman, was born in Ireland in 1832, removed to Australia in 1849, married Steadman in 1850, removed to San Francisco in 1851, and was left a widow in 1855. She married Cardwell, an Englishman, the following year, and they removed to Sams Valley in Jackson Co., Or., where Cardwell died in May 1882. Mrs. Cardwell has had 5 sons and 6 daughters, one of whom died in 1868. Cardwell wrote the Emigrant Company, MS., from which I have quoted.
    Andrew S. Moore, born in Susquehanna Co., Ohio, in 1830, emigrated to Oregon in 1859, settling in Sams Valley, Jackson Co., where he has since resided, engaged in farming. In 1864 he married Melissa Jane Cox, of Linn Co., Iowa. They have 7 sons and 4 daughters.
    Arad Comstock Stanley, born in Missouri in 1835, was bred a physician, and emigrated to California in 1864, settling near Woodland. He removed to Jackson Co., Or., in 1875, settling in Sams Valley where he has a farm, but practices his profession. He married Susan Martin in 1862. Their only child is Mrs. Sedotha L. Hannah, of Jackson Co.
    John B. Wrisley, born in Middlebury, Vt., in 1819, removed to New York, Michigan, and Wisconsin, where he married Eliza Jane Jacobs of Iowa Co., in 1843. He came to California in 1849, and to Rogue River Valley in 1852. His daughter Alice was the first white girl born in the valley. She married C. Goddard of Medford, Jackson Co. Wrisley voted for the state constitutions of Wisconsin, California, and Oregon; has been active in politics, but always rejected office.
    Joshua Patterson was born in Michigan in 1857, immigrated to Oregon in 1862, and settled in Rogue River Valley. He married, in 1880, Ella Jane Fewel, and resides at Ashland. Has 2 children.
    Thomas Curry, born near Louisville, Ky., in 1833, removed with his parents to Ill., and came to Or. in 1853, settling in the Rogue River Valley, where he has since resided. In 1863 he married Mary E. Sutton, who came with her parents to Or. in 1854. Of 5 children born to them, 2 are now living.
    Jacob Wagner, an immigrant of 1851, was born in Ohio in 1820, and removed with his parents first to Ind. and afterwards to Iowa. Settling in Ashland, he has been engaged in farming and milling during a generation. He married Ellen Hendricks of Iowa, in 1860, by whom he has had 7 children, 2 of whom are dead.
    Franklin Wertz, born in Pa. in 1836, married Martha E. V. Beirly of his state, and the couple settled at Medford, where 5 children have been born to them.
The Works of Hubert Howe Bancroft: History of Oregon, 1848-88, vol. 30, 1888, page 712


    EDS. JOURNAL:--My last letter left me at Montague, where I took the stage for Etna Mills via Yreka and Fort Jones. Ground has already been broken for the branch line from Montague to Yreka, and before snow flies they hope to have the iron horse in the genial town of Yreka. On the way to Fort Jones we come to the Forest House, a beautiful resort for travelers.
    We leave the once-famous Greenhorn Gulch and Deadwood town to the right and climb a spur of the Siskiyou; then a rapid ride down the mountain into picturesque Scott Valley. We pass the "King of the Portuguese's" house, a few miles from this side of Fort Jones--a house that is generally painted a brilliant yellow. He has an extensive ranch, great herds of stock--nearly all made from his credulous countrymen. Very soon we cross Scott River, a beautiful trout stream, and shortly afterwards Fort Jones comes into sight.
    It is a pretty town, ornamented by shade trees, and is in the center of one of the best agricultural countries in Northern California. It supports a bank, a bright newspaper, the Scott Valley News, numerous stores, saloons and hotels. While here I met Siskiyou County's musical genius, Miss Eugenia Kelly, who, while on a visit to Alameda, nearly a year ago, met with a very sad accident in being thrown from a car, making her a cripple for life. She is a most remarkable musician, being able to play almost any instrument, guitar, violin and cornet; she is a divine performer on the piano. Just beyond Fort Jones can be seen the remains of the old fort, where hardly over a score and ten years ago were stationed U.S. troops to keep the savages subdued. Now all that remains is a few crumbling logs--a memento of days long ago.
    Passing on to Etna Mills numerous substantial farm houses are seen, showing comfort and contentment. Amid winding lanes, running brooks, and surrounded by waving grain, and the scent of new-mown hay--nearly every turn bringing out new beauties to the panoramic valley--after a 12-mile ride, the old town of Etna Mills is reached.
    From Etna I determined to go to Sawyer's Bar, one of the oldest northern mining towns. There is no wagon road into the Bar, only a rough and precipitous trail, 26 miles from Etna. In the crowd going over was a minister and his fair daughter, another young lady, a rough-and-tumble miner, a drummer and a fresh arrival from Portugal, who could speak only two words of English, and they were "Sawyer's Bar." We finally got started, and away we went on our noble steeds--i.e., on the hurricane deck of well trained pack mules. It proved to be a hot and dusty ride, and, when the summit of the Salmon Mountains was reached (being nearly 8000 feet above sea level), a grand view of the surrounding mountains could be seen and, looking back, just a patch of the valley is in view. The descent is slowly made, as in a great many places it is much safer to walk than to ride. Carefully picking our way down the mountainside we finally reach the bottom and follow Salmon River on to Sawyer's Bar. Numerous miners can be seen mining on the river, some of them doing very well. About 7 miles on from Sawyer's Bar is ex-Gov. Daggett's home, the Black Bear mine. He has a 15-stamp mill running, and has only 3 white men in his employ, all the rest being Chinese. Not very creditable to the ex-Governor. They say he has a sign up, at or near his mine, "No white men need apply for work."
    Sawyer's Bar was found to be a quaint, crowded-up little town of about 150 inhabitants, the narrow street being just wide enough in one place for a wagon to turn around. There has never been a four-wheeled conveyance in the town; they have a couple of two-wheeled carts, though. Further in the country, there are some people who have never even seen a wagon of any kind. The Bar was first worked by three men, Sawyer, Davis, and the other one's name I did not learn. The first winter they passed there was a rough experience. They existed on 1 mule, a barrel of whiskey and a barrel of sugar the entire winter. Davis is now living at Etna Mills, while Sawyer and the other man are dead.
    My first evening in town was enlivened with a lawsuit, preaching in the church and a dance. It is rather a "go-as-you-please" kind of a place, the main ambition of about three-fourths of the male inhabitants being to get drunk once a week regularly. I heard several make their brags that there was more whiskey drunk in the town than in any other of its size in the United States. I did not differ with them at all.
    In due time I returned to Etna, thence to Yreka, the county seat of Siskiyou County. Yreka greatly bemoans the fact of the railroad's leaving them 6 miles off the line. The Yrekans showed their lack of enterprise, though, in not long ago building the branch road to Montague or Julien's. They have delayed building it so long that Montague has got quite a start.
    Continuing my journey from Yreka and Montague, Ager is reached, where you take the stage for the (fast coming to be) famous Shovel Creek Mud Springs. They are about 18 or 20 miles from Ager, have delightful surroundings, and the proprietors are just completing a $30,000 hotel. In a short while after leaving Ager we cross the Klamath River, then the ascent of Bailey Hill is commenced. It is made by an average of 116 feet rise to the mile. We soon come to Henley, or Cottonwood as it was formerly called, and in a short time we strike the Siskiyou Mountains. It is simply wonderful--almost a perfect miracle of engineering--the manner in which this portion of road is built. Higher and higher we get, with ever-changing scenery. Where to gain ½ a mile up the mountain the railroad makes a detour of 5 miles. Away off to the north Pilot Rock can be seen--a huge pillar of rock rising high up above its contemporaries. After winding about the immense grade of 175 feet to the mile, making curves of startling crookedness, Colestin is reached, where a fine drink of natural soda water can be had. Just imagine, almost to the summit of the Siskiyous, such a fine spring of soda and sulfur water bubbling forth. It is becoming quite a summer resort for Southern Oregonians.
    In a few minutes the long tunnel is reached, taking about five minutes to go through. It is something like 3 miles through, and on coming out on the Oregon side a scene of beauty greets the eye--for, far away, below us lies the magnificent Rogue River Valley, famous for its fine fruits and grain land. From the mouth of the tunnel to Ashland by the stage road it is only 14 miles, but the railroad goes 27 before reaching the town. One can imagine the roundabout way the road takes in reaching the valley. While on one side of the mountain you look across the other side, apparently about 10 miles across, and are told in a few minutes we will be over there. "Impossible!" you exclaim. Then you look down the mountainside and see numberless tracks, dug out of the side of the mountain, and wonder how the train will ever get there. In a few minutes, though, we come to tunnel 14, making a wonderful downgrade and curve during its passage, coming out, comparatively, in a new country, then, turning around a sharp spur of the mountain, you look up, and there, about a mile and a half above us, can be seen the track, thus partly explaining the manner in which we "get there." And so on till Ashland is reached, passing Major Barron's place just at the foot of the mountain.
    Of course Rogue River Valley is the Paradise of Oregon. It is the "land of plenty," and "home of the weary." Ashland is a pretty town, nestling up close to the mountains, with a fine stream of water running through the town, whereby the Ashland Woolen Mills and Lander's immense flour mill obtain their motive power. The woolen mills are becoming well-known and employ about 50 girls and nearly 100 men and boys. Ashland is surrounded with orchards, some of the peach orchards having recently been sold at $500 an acre. Large quantities of fruit are shipped daily by express to Portland and intermediate points. A stock company of citizens is building a large 3-story hotel, to cost $25,000. Several other brick buildings have gone up during the past year and the town looks bright and new. About ½ mile from town are to be found Helman's natural sulfur baths, a fine place for bathing. The water is in a fine, large tank, suitable to swim in, temperature of water the year around being 85. Ashland feels proud of its 2500 population and two bright and spicy weekly newspapers. Leaving Ashland, Phoenix is reached, then the enterprising new town of Medford, jumping-off place for Jacksonville, the latter town being the county seat of Jackson County. It is about 6 miles to the west of Medford and is a sad illustration of what a town comes to if left off the railroad. It was once a thriving town, but now all it has is the county seat and some good land around it. Medford sprang up on the arrival of the railroad and between it and Ashland, Jacksonville is badly left.
    The railroad follows Rogue River up and on through the canyon by that name till it reaches Grants Pass, Josephine County, being in the midst of an immense timber belt. A large sawmill and sash and door factory, running night and day, help support Grants Pass, while it is also the end of the freight division of the O.&C.R.R., and the railroad has repair shops here also. They raise immense watermelons throughout the county, several carloads being shipped every week. Of course the county has considerable farming land too.
    After leaving Grants Pass, with exceptions of patches here and there, the road goes through a wild and rough country till Roseburg, in Umpqua Valley, is reached. It is the county seat of Douglas County and is prettily situated on the Umpqua River. Roseburg is supported by a fine farming country back of it, and its massive two- and three-story brick business buildings speak of its prosperity. From here one can take stage for Coos Bay, a country rich with coal mines and timber. My next will include my journey to Portland, thence to Eastern Oregon, etc. C U later,
Trinity Journal, Weaverville, California, September 15, 1888, page 1


    EDITOR JOURNAL:--I have been "jumped on" by the "Syracuse gang" as long as I am going to stand it, and all because I have not written a letter to you descriptive of this country. But,Mr.  JOURNAL, my reason for not doing so is good. One of my oldest and best friends was at the depot when I left Syracuse last June, and to him I mentioned the fact that I would describe, through your columns, the beauties of all countries visited. He said no, don't do it, and gave good reasons for saying no, and I have so far complied with his no, but every letter from Syracuse brings fresh abuse, and I will step over "no" and tell you what I have found in this state.
    Of course it is no news to your readers to be told that Oregon has had good, hardy American pioneers on her soil since 1842 [sic]. Since that time they have been constantly coming in, until now they can show a very respectable number of people. I did not like Eastern Oregon; only here and there a small valley that looks inviting. Baker City and Pendleton are very respectable little cities, very much on the order of our western Kansas towns. Either place will remind you of Garden City. Houses new, and while not large, they are neat and clean. They are both in pleasant valleys, and the valley land is good. Umatilla County, where I stopped first, did not suit me. It is one of the greatest wheat countries I ever saw. Vast fields of wheat that would probably yield from 50 to 80 bushels to the acre meet the eye on every hand, but in my opinion that covers all the ground. The soil, while deep, is light and resembles ashes. It is windy a great portion of the year, and the sandstorms from the Columbia River are very disagreeable. Not much fruit grows there, for the sudden changes in the weather has about killed it off. The scenery along the Columbia River from "The Dalles" to Portland is simply grand, and it is a good route to travel over. From Portland south, and west of the Cascade Mountains, is a magnificent country, and is commonly known as the Willamette Valley. But to live there in fall and winter, you have to wear rubber boots until you grow webs on your feet to paddle with. The depth of rain annually in that valley is 47 inches. I came over it on the 7th of July, when it was blooming and beautiful, and looked a veritable garden of small fruit, grain and vegetables. From that valley we crossed the lower end of the Cascade Range, and dropped into the famous "Italy of America," the Rogue River Valley. To say it is nice does not express it. It is simply near perfection in every respect.
Syracuse Journal, Syracuse, Kansas, September 21, 1888, page 2


    I got here during harvest, and saw some first-class grain harvested. Wheat this year will yield from 30 to 50 bushels, and all other kinds of small grain in proportion. Hay is a staple; clover, timothy, wild oats, and especially alfalfa are a big crop. Hanley Bros. have cut three crops of alfalfa so far, and will soon cut the fourth, and have received an enormous yield. Corn is first class; the mild climate is especially adapted to its culture. Vegetables grow rank and fine in every variety. Potatoes the finest I have ever seen. A box was placed on exhibition last week containing about a bushel that would average five pounds each; also onions and beets that would weigh equally as well. However, wheat and wool is in greatest shipping quantity. This valley does not "cultivate" sheep to any great extent, but in the mountains surrounding, the "woods are full of 'em." The wool shipment will annually amount to fifty thousand dollars from this point. One of the wheat buyers just told me that he would alone handle 150,000 bushels at a cost of 60 cents per bushel.
    But when the wool is all gone and the farmers are busy in the harvest and hay fields and with the thresher, the good wife and children are looking after the orchards--a feature of the valley that eclipses all countries in variety and quantity, beside being a never-failing crop of the very finest quality. It starts in early in the season with strawberries and all kindred berries, except raspberries, blackberries and huckleberries, which come later on. Then come cherries of the finest quality grown on the continent. After cherries comes early peaches, apples and blackberries in vast quantities. Then raspberries, early pears, huckleberries, Bartlett pears, fall peaches, and so on down the line. I neglected to mention as a July fruit apricots, greengage and damson plums and prunes of each and every variety. Almonds flourish here, as well as walnuts, English walnuts, butternuts, "chestnuts" &c. So you can see it is like the Fourth of July--"one continuous round of pleasure." One thing is certain though, if a Kansas "jayhawker" comes out here, he had better have his stomach zinc lined, for besides being dazzled with its fruitish splendor, he is very liable to do as I did, hunt the soft side of the bed rail and be well supplied with wash bowls and the like. However, a person has a remarkable climate to back him up and make bedroom life endurable while he is becoming acclimated.
    The record of this valley for temperature is good. The hottest day ever registered was when the shady side of the house showed the mercury to have climbed to 100, and last winter was the first the little globule ever got as low as zero, and then it went three below. Ice is shipped in here from the mountains. The rainfall in this valley is 25 inches, and equally divided during the year. No failure of crops ever known, and only two light crops since the first settlement of the country. The land does not impress a stranger as being very productive, but his astonishment is great when he sees the results of labor and soil placed on the market. The mountains surrounding the valley are thickly studded with pine, spruce, hemlock and oak. I went through 15 miles of Rogue River forest, some 45 miles up the river, and beheld some of the grandest timber sights on earth. Trees from 100 to 250 feet high, and measuring from 10 to 17 feet in diameter, stand as thickly as they possibly can do so. Millions and millions of feet of lumber stand unmolested in its virgin state, and thousands of acres of such trees are still on government land subject to entry. You say, why is this? Simply because until four years ago there was no inlet or outlet to this valley, except by team and pack over the mountains, and only a home market for the produce. Then no man with energy wanted to sit down here and raise what would supply his family and have to waste his surplus. The lumber interests could not be developed, because there was no way for the lumber to be taken out.
    Four years ago the Oregon & California company ran a [rail]road from Portland to Ashland (12 miles south of Medford), then the Yankee and Middle States men began to pour in, but last December they finished the road to San Francisco, so that a market has been opened, and Western Oregon will soon become famous as well as rich. It is 120 miles from here to the coast, with a mountain range between.
    Gold mining is still carried on to a considerable extent. Millions of dollars worth of gold has been mined and sold from this immediate vicinity, and some dust comes in every week. A new pocket was struck only a few days ago, and its owner realized $700 from a few hours' work. Such strikes are common, and little attention is paid to it here. But the entire country is yet undeveloped. Miners, farmers, merchants and mechanics will yet find abiding place here, and grow rich from their efforts. Laborers in this country seem to be doing well, with plenty of work. Farm hands get an average of $20 per month; day laborers get $1.25 to $2.00; mechanics get from $2.50 to $4.00 per day. None are idle that will work.
    The valley is filling up very rapidly now, and every train brings new people from the East. These native Oregonians are a queer people. They are wholly independent, and don't seem to care whether "school keeps or not." They have lived here so long with no use for energy that they have forgotten how to apply it now; and as a result the eastern rustler is coming in and taking the "rag from the bush."
    There are four good towns in the valley, of which this (Medford) is the center. Nearly every branch of the trade is represented here. The town is just the age of Syracuse, being platted in April, 1885. It has outstripped its Kansas sister, however, having more people and more good, substantial houses. I must say, however, that Syracuse has one of the best school houses I have seen anywhere since I left home, with the exceptions of some of the larger cities. There is one solid two-story brick block, besides four two-story and one three-story brick business houses here--the Odd Fellows owning the third story of the last-named house, which is 80x110 feet. We have 5 general stores, well stocked; 3 grocery and queensware; 3 hardware; 2 drug; 2 implement; 2 millinery; 3 good hotels; 2 furniture; 3 confectionery; 1 jewelry; 1 bakery; 1 livery stable, and a splendid opening for another, and so on down the line. They all seem to be doing a thriving business.
    I know that those who wish for far western life can find it here in abundance and be satisfied, for it is a country to satisfy anyone. I would like very much to see some familiar faces from western Kansas, and believe some of you could better your conditions, while others could not. So far as I am individually concerned, I am content to try it for a time. I won't worry you any longer this time, but maybe sometime later I will fill you up again. I think that Charlie Gay will come here next spring, for this is a good place for him.
    This, Jackson County, gives a Democratic majority of 450, and you all know that suits me. Oregon will go for Harrison and Morton this fall about 5,000. California will be very close. Free trade does not have the effect here that you Kansas people imagine it does, for every sheep man who has heretofore voted the Democratic ticket will do so again. Neither does the Chinese question affect the other side as much as generally supposed. That, however, holds good only in Oregon, while in California it makes a big difference.
    In reading over what has been written, I find I have said less than I intended to about the climate. The elevation in the valley is 1,500. Rogue River runs through the mountains to the Pacific Ocean, and there is a constant breeze coming up the river that gives us a cool atmosphere always. The days are extremely pleasant. No wind to send the dust into your flour barrel and under the bed covers. A cyclone, hurricane, or even a hard wind is unknown. Thunder storms and lightning are a rarity. The rains come steadily, and is not blown under the doors to spoil the carpet. Nights always cool, and no beds, in this country of woolen factories, go without a nice pair of warm blankets the year around. Frost falls first about the middle of October, and snow and ice is unknown in anything like quantity. Usually 10 to 12 days of cold weather, and from December 15 to March 1 constitutes the winter. The balance of the time is bright and warm. People rarely ever provide for winter, and usually pack their vegetables away in a shed with no covering whatever. Of course I agree with all of you that that is poor policy, for they often lose their supply, besides showing a lack of thrift and industry; but as I said, extreme cold or even cold is unknown. It seems to be a very healthy place. The catarrh that worried me so in Kansas has taken a rest since I came here, and I am satisfied that I will in the future be free from it. There is now several cases of typhoid fever in the mountains, but no evidences of it here on the lower lands. No malaria or ague, except in low wet ground near the mountain bases, where springs and snow keep the water constantly on the surface, to stagnate where it stops in the marshy spots. I will be in Syracuse in March and tell you all about it. Until then, goodbye.
Syracuse Journal, Syracuse, Kansas, September 28, 1888, page 2


    Jacksonville has an old and decayed appearance, for there is no new building going on to make an era of progress and development. The railroad gave it the "go by," to all intents and purposes. The mines that created the place and made it once a center of extravagant life and unusual prosperity have become exhausted. The creek that brought down gold in rich placers is worked out, and all its golden wealth is exhausted. It was possible, it is said, to have induced the railroad builders to have located their route near enough to Jacksonville to keep its health and prominence undisturbed, but they failed to appreciate the necessity, and nothing now can give animation and vitality to the place beyond the fact that some good country is tributary to it and must bring trade there.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, October 2, 1888, page 6

Last revised October 5, 2024