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"Every part of this country is sacred to my people"


We have always been here, we are still here, we will always be here.

--Vi Hilbert, Skagit Elder

It has been a few years since my last visit to Blake Island State Park, but my fond memories of the place were enhanced by recently devouring an excellent biography --- Chief Seattle and the Town That Took His Name: The Change of Worlds for the Native People and Settlers on Puget Sound by David M. Buerge. A hauntingly evocative passage in the book describes the Chief's traditional arrival on a carved cedar canoe powered by the rhythmic splash of paddles --- out of the mist his thunderous voice carries over the water---"It is I, Si'al!"

The usual narrative of Washington history gives a passing reference to the lives of Native Americans and might even acknowledge that tribal people have lived here for at least 10,000 years. Typically, it progresses with an assumption that tribal life was completely overwhelmed by the arrival of European-American immigrants in the 1850's, and exists now as a footnote to the accomplishments and developments of those arrivals.

I beg to differ.

A deeper reading of Washington's story finds Native lives deeply woven into the warp and weft of this place. An easy place to delve deeper is the peaceful refuge of Blake Island State Park.

The occasion of our trip to Blake Island was a visit to Tillicum Village, a touristy concession that occupies a corner of the island's 475 acres. A staple destination for Seattle visitors and generations of fourth-graders on field trips, Tillicum Village offers an introduction to the nations and culture of the Salish Sea with a blend of authenticity and kitsch. The intricately carved story poles on the grounds are the work of Lummi carver Joe Hillaire, steeped in tradition. His daughter Pauline detailed the stories of his work in A Totem Pole History: The Work of Lummi Carver Joe Hillaire.

Chief Seattle's life spanned the place in time that brought wrenching change to this land and its people. He stands out amongst everyone present during that time by his prescient vision of the pitfalls and possibilities that changes would bring and his diplomatic engagement with all of the players involved in the changes.

Born on Blake Island in the 1780's, Seattle, as a young boy, witnessed the passage of the Vancouver Expedition in 1792, slowly cruising the maze of Puget Sound's waterways to meticulously map and catalogue the area's resources. As a young man growing into a leadership role, Seattle distinguished himself leading raids amongst neighboring peoples, protecting his tribe's rights to access resources without infringement. Sometimes the raids involved abductions for slavery or marriage. In middle age, he maneuvered into a trade relationship with the Hudson's Bay Company as that global company established a monopoly in the fur trade, becoming a permanent local presence in 1833 with the establishment of Fort Nisqually. As an established Si'ab, or person of standing, he influenced the incoming settlement that followed the Oregon Treaty of 1846 that established the border between the United States and British territories at 49 degrees N latitude and the passage of the Donation Land Claims Act in 1850 which provided a means for settlers to claim lands in the US territory.

Four and a half miles across the water from Blake Island, blinking every 5 seconds, is Alki Point Lighthouse. Completed in 1913, it was the last west coast light to be automated, in 1984. It stands on ground that played an integral role in the colonization of Washington. In the midst of the November rains in 1851, the Arthur Denny party of settlers arrived and began developments that led eventually to the founding of the city of Seattle, now the 15th most populous metropolitan area in the United States.

Researching the journals of the Denny party, I am haunted by details of their initial interactions with the local Duwamish people. As Arthur Denny said:

"...soon after we landed and began clearing ground for our buildings they commenced to congregate, and continued coming until we had over a thousand in our midst, and most of them remained all winter. Some of them built their houses very near to ours, even on the ground we had cleared, and although they seemed very friendly toward us we did not feel safe in objecting to their building thus near to us for fear of offending them."

It is now understood that the native people were occupying the place as a protective move, concerned about the newcomers disturbing nearby burial sites. Tensions within the Denny group and a dawning realization that the Alki Point site was constrained by tidal currents and a lack of freshwater sources eventually formed a rift in the group. Chief Seattle actively promoted development in the area across the bay from Alki, lobbying David "Doc" Maynard, a storekeeper in Olympia, along with the disaffected members of the Denny party, to move there in March 1852, and formed a partnership to catch, preserve and export salmon to San Francisco.

Building on a foundation of friendship with Maynard, Chief Seattle played an integral role in the early days of the settlement. He shared tribal knowledge of advantageous locations and resources that were necessary to survive and thrive and in turn he was eager to utilize and benefit from the technology, wealth and ambition of the immigrants. Chief Seattle, recognizing that his culture would not maintain their status quo, desired to mold a hybrid culture pulling the best elements from each.

Chief Seattle was renowned as an orator. His voice was strong and melodious. Much of Chief Seattle's fame rests on a reporter's recollection of a speech he delivered in January 1854 at a meeting between Territorial Governor Isaac Stevens and people gathered near Maynard's office on First and Main in today's Pioneer Square district. Stevens explained the proposed treaty between the United States government and the nations of the Salish Sea. Then, as Henry Smith, the reporter, described it, "Chief Seattle arose with all the dignity of a senator, who carries the responsibilities of a great nation on his shoulders. Placing one hand on the governor's head, and slowly pointing heavenward with the index finger of the other, he commenced his memorable address in solemn and impressive tones."

While it is clear that the speech was not recorded verbatim, there is a consensus that the themes, phrasing and concepts accurately mirror Seattle's observations of his people's deep attachment to their native lands.

One year later, the Treaty of Point Elliot was signed at a three-day gathering at the site of today's Mukilteo Lighthouse. Tribes ceded property rights to the territories they and their ancestors had occupied for ten millenia, in exchange for promises of education, health care, money, small reservations, and in Article 5, The right of taking fish at usual and accustomed grounds and stations is further secured to said Indians in common with all citizens of the Territory. Chief Seattle's mark is the first one identified on the document below that of Governor Stevens. The treaty marked a turning point in the loss of autonomy of the Salish peoples. In 1850 Native Americans made up nearly all of the population of the territory that was to become Washington State. By 1870, tribal members still made up more than half of the population. By 1900, the proportion had diminished to about 2% as colonization by Americans had become firmly established. Today, 2.7% of Washingtonians identify as American Indian or Alaska Native alone or in combination with one or more other races.

Seattle and his people faced enormous adjustments in the wake of the treaty. Many, but not all, moved their residences to the Port Madison Reservation on the Kitsap Peninsula. Non-native newcomers to the growing city named in his honor by "Doc" Maynard did not rely on native people for their survival the way that the first settlers had, and brought their prejudiced perspective. A sadly illuminating story involves an incident in which a 10 year old girl shoved Seattle off a sidewalk saying "everyone knows Indians are supposed to get out of the way of white people."

The Point Elliot treaty was not ratified by the US Government for nearly four years; many native people were disturbed by the delay of the promised benefits, and as Chief Seattle's speech foretold, a growing realization of the extent of the coming cultural dislocation. Attacks, injustices and misunderstandings led many to take up arms in defense of their families, property and culture. Military engagements between native fighters and US Army troops in eastern Washington (I will examine these in detail in a future blog post about Spokane Plains Battlefield State Park) were echoed in skirmishes around Puget Sound. Fearing a widening of the conflict from the east, American settlers in the southern Puget Sound area formed militias. One, known as Eaton's Rangers, unsuccessfully attempted to apprehend Nisqually Chief Leschi at his farm. In turn, Leschi and his warriors warned local settlers that they were protesting the treaties and the extra-legal militias. Militia members and their families near White River were targeted, and in late October 1855, nine people were killed in a raid by the Nisqually

warriors. In response, American forces displaced nearly 2,000 native people to internment sites on Squaxin and Fox Islands, incarcerating them for almost two years, as detailed in Cecelia Svinth Carpenter's book Tears of Internment: The Indian History of Fox Island and the Puget Sound Indian War. On Governor Stevens' orders, native people found outside the camps were considered hostile. Leschi's capable tactics prompted Isaac Sterret, commander of the USS Decatur, anchored at Seattle, to write to US Secretary of War Jefferson Davis in December 1855 that "the valor and prowess of the Indians has been greatly underrated…The whole military resources of the Territory are totally inadequate to conduct war with success, even to afford protection to the settlers." Stevens, speaking before the territorial legislature in Olympia declared that "the war shall be prosecuted until the last hostile Indian is exterminated." Stevens authorized six new militias, against the wishes of the US Army, to carry out his threat. A few days later, Leschi's forces attacked the town of Seattle, in a raid termed the Battle of Seattle. Though casualties were few on both sides, the boldness of the strike, made in the face of the heavy firepower of the USS Decatur, terrified the settlers. Chief Seattle opposed the conflict, believing it to be unwinnable, and he and his followers ​​withdrew to the Port Madison Reservation.

Governor Stevens encouraged the militia groups to harass peaceful natives that had not been incarcerated, resulting in the April 1856 murder of 30 old men, women and children fishing at the site of today's Nisqually State Park as militia members fired indiscriminately into a wooded area where they were hiding. In Pierce County, a hotbed of Whig Party membership, opponents of Stevens' war policy (many of whom were former employees of the Hudson's Bay Company who had married into Native American families) were detained, and when Territorial Chief Justice Chenoweth ordered Stevens (a Democrat whose views mirrored the racist policies of President Andrew Jackson) to release them, the governor declared martial law in the county. Referring to his opponents as "evil disposed persons....giving aid and comfort to the enemy," Stevens ordered his militia to arrest the Chief Justice. Later released, the Justice ordered the US Marshall to arrest Stevens, precipitating a fistfight between the opposing officers. Ultimately, the showdown ended with all charges dropped. Not so for Leschi, who was eventually captured, tried, and executed in February 1858. In 2004, the Washington legislature passed Senate Resolution 8727, directing the Washington Supreme Court to vacate Leschi's conviction, based on the fact that a criminal conviction for actions taken in war was unconstitutional.

These events that swirled around Blake Island happened over 160 years ago. And yet......there are aspects of the narrative that are still part of the fabric of our times. Central to both times is the intersection of cultures and the response to change. In Radical Hope: Ethics in the Face of Cultural Devastation (2008) philosopher Jonathan Lear explores what he calls the “blind spot” of any culture: the inability to conceive of its own destruction and possible extinction. He examined forms of hope that involve neither denial or blind optimism. “What makes this hope radical, is that it is directed toward a future goodness that transcends the current ability to understand what it is.” Some Native American leaders displayed “imaginative excellence” by trying to imagine what ethical values would be needed as newcomers flooded their homelands. Lear suggests that besides the standard alternatives of freedom or death in the defense of one's culture there is another way, less grand yet demanding just as much courage: the way of “creative adaptation.”

The record seems to support the idea that Chief Seattle wished to follow the way of creative adaptation, as did the Whigs of Pierce County, living their lives working towards a merger of disparate cultures. On the other hand, Leschi and Stevens, fearing a future out of their control and experience, chose to fight. For a moment in the 1850's, perhaps it could have gone either way.......

As I was writing this blog, I heard an NPR interview with musician Yo-Yo Ma. Discussing his project to perform the Bach Cello Suites at 36 diverse venues around the world to interface with different cultures, he summed up his intention with: "...fear makes us smaller and culture makes us larger."

I have digressed, in this blog post, from a travelogue of the attractions of Blake Island State Park. Our State Parks are more than scenic collections of rocks and trees, great places to camp and hike and paddle watched over by friendly park rangers and beach naturalists. I think that Chief Seattle's statement that "Every part of this country is sacred to my people. Every hill-side, every valley, every plain and grove has been hallowed by some fond memory or some sad experience of my tribe" rings especially true here, centered as it is with views over the intricate salmon highways of the Salish Sea to the cedar-scented forests at waters edge and up over the rising skyscrapers of the city of Seattle to the snow crowned summits of the Cascade Mountains.

I hope that a better understanding of the colonization of the Salish Sea nations, the atrocities and missed opportunities to be enlarged by culture that happened then can inform us now. As voices of intolerance are enabled by America's current political regime I am reminded of the saying attributed to Mark Twain, that "history doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme."

As Chief Seattle told us -- The Dead are not altogether powerless......

--David

Portrait of Chief Seattle courtesy University of Washington Libraries Special Collections

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