The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17, No. 101, March, 1866

The Doctor reads such letters in a maze. Can it indeed be a son of his own loins who thus bandies language about the solemn truths of Christianity?

"How shall I give thee up, Ephraim! How shall I set thee as Zeboim!"

LII

In the early spring of 1842,—we are not quite sure of the date, but it was at any rate shortly after the establishment of the Reverend Theophilus Catesby at Ashfield,—the Doctor was in the receipt of a new letter from his friend Maverick, which set all his old calculations adrift. It was not Madame Arles, after all, who was the mother of Adèle; and the poor gentleman found that he had wasted a great deal of needless sympathy in that direction. But we shall give the details of the news more succinctly and straightforwardly by laying before our readers some portions of Maverick's letter.

"I find, my dear Johns," he writes, "that my suspicions in regard to a matter of which I wrote you very fully in my last were wholly untrue. How I could have been so deceived, I cannot even now fairly explain; but nothing is more certain, than that the person calling herself Madame Arles (since dead, as I learn from Adèle) was not the mother of my child. My mistake in this will the more surprise you, when I state that I had a glimpse of this personage (unknown to you) upon my visit to America; and though it was but a passing glimpse, it seemed to me—though many years had gone by since my last sight of her—that I could have sworn to her identity. And coupling this resemblance, as I very naturally did, with her devotion to my poor Adèle, I could form but one conclusion.

"The mother of my child, however, still lives. I have seen her. You will commiserate me in advance with the thought that I have found her among the vile ones of what you count this vile land. But you are wrong, my dear Johns. So far as appearance and present conduct go, no more reputable lady ever crossed your own threshold. The meeting was accidental, but the recognition on both sides absolute, and, on the part of the lady, so emotional as to draw the attention of the habitués of the café where I chanced to be dining. Her manner and bearing, indeed, were such as to provoke me to a renewal of our old acquaintance, with honorable intentions,—even independent of those suggestions of duty to herself and to Adèle which you have urged.

"But I have to give you, my dear Johns, a new surprise. All overtures of my own toward a renewal of acquaintance have been decisively repulsed. I learn that she has been living for the past fifteen years or more with her brother, now a wealthy merchant of Smyrna, and that she has a reputation there as a dévote, and is widely known for the charities which her brother's means place within her reach. It would thus seem that even this French woman, contrary to your old theory, is atoning for an early sin by a life of penance.

"And now, my dear Johns, I have to confess to you another deceit of mine. This woman—Julie Chalet when I knew her of old, and still wearing the name—has no knowledge that she has a child now living. To divert all inquiry, and to insure entire alienation of my little girl from all French ties, I caused a false mention of the death of Adèle to be inserted in the Gazette of Marseilles. I know you will be very much shocked at this, my dear Johns, and perhaps count it as large a sin as the grosser one; that I committed it for the child's sake will be no excuse in your eye, I know. You may count me as bad as you choose,—only give me credit for the fatherly affection which would still make the path as easy and as thornless as I can for my poor daughter.

"If Julie, the mother of Adèle, knew to-day of her existence,—if I should carry that information to her,—I am sure that all her rigidities would be consumed like flax in a flame. That method, at least, is left for winning her to any action upon which I may determine. Shall I use it? I ask you as one who, I am sure, has learned to love Adèle, and who, I hope, has not wholly given over a friendly feeling toward me. Consider well, however, that the mother is now one of the most rigid of Catholics; I learn that she is even thinking of conventual life. I know her spirit and temper well enough to be sure that, if she were to meet the child again which she believes lost, it would be with an impetuosity of feeling and a devotion that would absorb every aim of her life. This disclosure is the only one by which I could hope to win her to any consideration of marriage; and with a mother's rights and a mother's love, would she not sweep away all that Protestant faith which you, for so many years, have been laboring to build up in the mind of my child? Whatever you may think, I do not conceive this to be impossible; and if possible, is it to be avoided at all hazards? Whatever I might have owed to the mother I feel in a measure absolved from by her rejection of all present advances. And inasmuch as I am making you my father confessor, I may as well tell you, my dear Johns, that no particular self-denial would be involved in a marriage with Mademoiselle Chalet. For myself, I am past the age of sentiment; my fortune is now established; neither myself nor my child can want for any luxury. The mother, by her present associations and by the propriety of her life, is above all suspicion; and her air and bearing are such as would be a passport to friendly association with refined people here or elsewhere. You may count this a failure of Providence to fix its punishment upon transgressors: I count it only one of those accidents of life which are all the while surprising us.

"There was a time when I would have had ambition to do otherwise; but now, with my love for Adèle established by my intercourse with her and by her letters, I have no other aim, if I know my own heart, than her welfare. It should be kept in mind, I think, that the marriage spoken of, if it ever take place, will probably involve, sooner or later, a full exposure to Adèle of all the circumstances of her birth and history. I say this will be involved, because I am sure that the warm affections of Mademoiselle Chalet will never allow of the concealment of her maternal relations, and that her present religious perversity (if you will excuse the word) will not admit of further deceits. I tremble to think of the possible consequences to Adèle, and query very much in my own mind, if her present blissful ignorance be not better than reunion with a mother through whom she must learn of the ignominy of her birth. Of Adèle's fortitude to bear such a shock, and to maintain any elasticity of spirits under it, you can judge better than I.

"I propose to delay action, my dear Johns, and of course my sailing for America, until I shall hear from you."

Our readers can surely anticipate the tone of the Doctor's reply. He writes:—

"Duty, Maverick, is always duty. The issues we must leave in the hands of Providence. One sin makes a crowd of entanglements; it is never weary of disguises and deceits. We must come out from them all, if we would aim at purity. From my heart's core I shall feel whatever shock may come to poor, innocent Adèle by reason of the light that may be thrown upon her history; but if it be a light that flows from the performance of Christian duty, I shall never fear its revelations. If we had been always true, such dark corners would never have existed to fright us with their goblins of terror. It is never too late, Maverick, to begin to be true.

"I find a strange comfort, too, in what you tell me of that religious perversity of Mademoiselle Chalet which so chafes you. I have never ceased to believe that most of the Romish traditions are of the Devil; but with waning years I have learned that the Divine mysteries are beyond our comprehension, and that we cannot map out His purposes by any human chart. The pure faith of your child, joined to her buoyant elasticity,—I freely confess it,—has smoothed away the harshness of many opinions I once held.

"Maverick, do your duty. Leave the rest to Heaven."

COMMUNICATION WITH THE PACIFIC

It is remarkable that, while we have been fighting for national existence, there has been a constant growth of the Republic. This is not wholly due to the power of democratic ideas, but owing in part to the native wealth of the country,—its virgin soil, its mineral riches. So rapid has been the development that the maps of 1864 are obsolete in 1866. Civilization at a stride has moved a thousand miles, and taken possession of the home of the buffalo. Miners with pick and spade are tramping over the Rocky Mountains, exploring every ravine, digging canals, building mills, and rearing their log cabins. The merchant, the farmer, and the mechanic follow them. The long solitude of the centuries is broken by mill-wheels, the buzzing of saws, the stroke of the axe, the blow of the hammer and trowel. The stageman cracks his whip in the passes of the mountains. The click of the telegraph and the rumbling of the printing-press are heard at the head-waters of the Missouri, and borne on the breezes there is the laughter of children and the sweet music of Sabbath hymns, sung by the pioneers of civilization.

Communities do not grow by chance, but by the operation of physical laws. Position, climate, latitude, mountains, lakes, rivers, coal, iron, silver, and gold are forces which decree occupation, character, and the measure of power and influence which a people shall have among the nations. Rivers are natural highways of trade, while mountains are the natural barriers. The Atlantic coast is open everywhere to commerce; but on the Pacific shore, from British Columbia to Central America, the rugged wall of the coast mountains, cloud-capped and white with snow, rises sharp and precipitous from the sea, with but one river flowing outward from the heart of the continent. The statesman and the political economist who would truly cast the horoscope of our future must take into consideration the Columbia River, its latitude, its connection with the Missouri, the Mississippi, the Lakes, and the St. Lawrence.

How wonderful the development of the Pacific and Rocky Mountain sections of the public domain! In 1860 the population of California, Oregon, and the territories lying west of Kansas, was six hundred and twenty-three thousand; while the present population is estimated at one million, wanting only facility of communication with the States to increase in a far greater ratio.

In 1853 a series of surveys were made by government to ascertain the practicability of a railroad to the Pacific. The country, however, at that time, was not prepared to engage in such an enterprise; but now the people are calling for greater facility of communication with a section of the country abounding in mineral wealth.

Of the several routes surveyed, we shall have space in this article to notice only the line running from Lake Superior to the head-waters of the Missouri, the Columbia, and Puget Sound, known as the Northern Pacific Railroad.

The public domain north of latitude 42°, through which it lies, comprises about seven hundred thousand square miles,—a territory larger than England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Holland, all the German States, Switzerland, Denmark, and Sweden.

The route surveyed by Governor Stevens runs north of the Missouri River, and crosses the mountains through Clark's Pass. Governor Stevens intended to survey another line up the valley of the Yellow Stone; and Lieutenant Mullan commenced a reconnoissance of the route when orders were received from Jeff Davis, then Secretary of War, to disband the engineering force.

THE ROUTE

Recent explorations indicate that the best route to the Pacific will be found up the valley of this magnificent river. The distances are as follows:—From the Mississippi above St. Paul to the western boundary of Minnesota, thence to Missouri River, two hundred and eighty miles, over the table-land known as the Plateau du Coteau du Missouri, where a road may be constructed with as much facility and as little expense as in the State of Illinois. Crossing the Missouri, the line strikes directly west to the Little Missouri,—the Wah-Pa-Chan-Shoka,—the heavy-timbered river of the Indians, one hundred and thirty miles. This river runs north, and enters the Missouri near its northern bend. Seventy miles farther carries us to the Yellow Stone. Following now the valley of this stream two hundred and eighty miles, the town of Gallatin is reached, at the junction of the Missouri Forks and at the head of navigation on that stream. The valley of the Yellow Stone is very fertile, abounding in pine, cedar, cotton-wood, and elm. The river has a deeper channel than the Missouri, and is navigable through the summer months. At the junction of the Big Horn, its largest tributary, two hundred and twenty miles from the mouth of the Yellow Stone, in midsummer there are ten feet of water. The Big Horn is reported navigable for one hundred and fifty miles. From Gallatin, following up the Jefferson Fork and Wisdom River, one hundred and forty miles, we reach the Big Hole Pass of the Rocky Mountains, where the line enters the valley of the St. Mary's, or Bitter Root Fork, which flows into the Columbia. The distance from Big Hole Pass to Puget Sound will be about five hundred and twenty miles, making the entire distance from St. Paul to Puget Sound about sixteen hundred miles, or one hundred and forty-three miles shorter than that surveyed by Governor Stevens. The distance from the navigable waters of the Missouri to the navigable waters of the Columbia is less than three hundred miles.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LINE

"Rivers are the natural highways of nations," says Humboldt. This route, then, is one of Nature's highways. The line is very direct. The country is mostly a rolling prairie, where a road may be constructed as easily as through the State of Iowa. It may be built with great rapidity. Parties working west from St. Paul and east from the Missouri would meet on the plains of Dacotah. Other parties working west from the Missouri and east from the Yellow Stone would meet on the "heavy-timbered river." Iron, locomotives, material of all kinds, provisions for laborers, can be delivered at any point along the Yellow Stone to within a hundred miles of the town of Gallatin, and they can be taken up the Missouri to that point by portage around the Great Falls. Thus the entire line east of the Rocky Mountains may be under construction at once, with iron and locomotives delivered by water transportation, with timber near at hand.

The character of the country is sufficient to maintain a dense population. It has always been the home of the buffalo, the favorite hunting-ground of the Indians. The grasses of the Yellow Stone Valley are tender and succulent. The climate is milder than that of Illinois. Warm springs gush up on the head-waters of the Yellow Stone. Lewis and Clark, on their return from the Columbia, boiled their meat in water heated by subterraneous fires. There are numerous beds of coal, and also petroleum springs.

"Large quantities of coal seen in the cliffs to-day,"[4 - Lewis and Clark's Expedition to the Columbia, Vol. II. p. 392.] is a note in the diary of Captain Clark, as he sailed down the Yellow Stone, who also has this note regarding the country: "High waving plains, rich, fertile land, bordered by stony hills, partially supplied by pine."[5 - Ibid., p. 397.]

Of the country of the Big Horn he says: "It is a rich, open country, supplied with a great quantity of timber."

Coal abounds on the Missouri, where the proposed line crosses that stream.[6 - See Pacific Railroad Report, Vol. I. p. 239.]

The gold mines of Montana, on the head-waters of the Missouri, are hardly surpassed for richness by any in the world. They were discovered in 1862. The product for the year 1865 is estimated at $16,000,000. The Salmon River Mines, west of the mountains, in Idaho, do not yield so fine a quality of gold, but are exceedingly rich.

Many towns have sprung into existence on both sides of the mountains. In Eastern Montana we have Gallatin, Beaver Head, Virginia, Nevada, Centreville, Bannock, Silver City, Montana, Jefferson, and other mining centres. In Western Montana, Labarge, Deer Lodge City, Owen, Higginson, Jordan, Frenchtown, Harrytown, and Hot Spring. Idaho has Boisee, Bannock City, Centreville, Warren, Richmond, Washington, Placerville, Lemhi, Millersburg, Florence, Lewiston, Craigs, Clearwater, Elk City, Pierce, and Lake City,—all mining towns.

A gentleman who has resided in the territory gives us the following information:—

"The southern portion of Montana Territory is mild; and from the testimony of explorers and settlers, as well as from my own experience and observation, the extreme northern portion is favored by a climate healthful to a high degree, and quite as mild as that of many of the Northern and Western States. This is particularly the case west of the mountains, in accordance with the well-known fact, that the isothermal line, or the line of heat, is farther north as you go westward from the Eastern States toward the Pacific.

"At Fort Benton [one hundred and thirty miles directly north from Gallatin], in about 48° of north latitude, a trading post of the American Fur Company, their horses and cattle, of which they have large numbers, are never housed or fed in winter, but get their own living without difficulty....

"Northeastern Montana is traversed by the Yellow Stone, whose source is high up in the mountains, from thence winding its way eastward across the Territory and flowing into the Missouri at Fort Union; thus crossing seven degrees of longitude, with many tributaries flowing into it from the south, in whose valleys, in connection with that of the Yellow Stone, there are hundreds of thousands of acres of tillable land, to say nothing of the tributaries of the Missouri, among which are the Jefferson, Madison, and Gallatin forks, along which settlements are springing up, and agriculture is becoming a lucrative business. These valleys are inviting to the settler. They are surrounded with hills and mountains, clad with pine, while a growth of cotton-wood skirts the meandering streams that everywhere flow through them, affording abundance of water-power.

"The first attempt at farming was made in the summer of 1863, which was a success, and indicates the productiveness of these valleys. Messrs. Wilson and Company broke thirty acres last spring, planting twelve acres of potatoes,—also corn, turnips, and a variety of garden sauce, all of which did well. The potatoes, they informed me, yielded two hundred bushels per acre, and sold in Virginia City, fifty miles distant, at twenty-five cents per pound, turnips at twenty cents, onions at forty cents, cabbage at sixty cents, peas and beans at fifty cents per pound in the pod, and corn at two dollars a dozen ears. Vines of all kinds seem to flourish; and we see no reason why fruit may not be grown here, as the climate is much more mild than in many of the States where it is a staple.

"The valley at the Three Forks, as also the valley along the streams, as they recede from the junction, are spacious, and yield a spontaneous growth of herbage, upon which cattle fatten during the winter....

"The Yellow Stone is navigable for several hundred miles from its mouth, penetrating the heart of the agricultural and mineral regions of Eastern Montana.... The section is undulating, with ranges of mountains, clad with evergreens, between which are beautiful valleys and winding streams, where towns and cities will spring up to adorn these mountain retreats, and give room for expanding civilization....

"On the east side of the mountains the mines are rich beyond calculation, the yield thus far having equalled the most productive locality of California of equal extent. The Bannock or Grasshopper mines were discovered in July, 1862, and are situated on Grasshopper Creek, which is a tributary of the Jefferson fork of the Missouri. The mining district here extends five miles down the creek, from Bannock City, which is situated at the head of the gulch, while upon either side of the creek the mountains are intersected with gold-bearing quartz lodes, many of which have been found to be very rich....

"While gold has been found in paying quantities all along the Rocky chain, its deposits are not confined to this locality, but sweep across the country eastward some hundreds of miles, to the Big Horn Mountains. The gold discoveries there cover a large area of country."[7 - Idaho: Six Months among the New Gold Diggings, by J. L. Campbell, pp. 15-28.]

Governor Stevens says: "Voyagers travel all winter from Lake Superior to the Missouri, with horses and sleds, having to make their own roads, and are not deterred by snows."

Alexander Culbertson, the great voyager and trader of the Upper Missouri, who, for the last twenty years, has made frequent trips from St. Louis to Fort Benton, has never found the snow drifted enough to interfere with travelling. The average depth is twelve inches, and frequently it does not exceed six.[8 - Pacific Railroad Report, Vol. I. p. 130.]

Through such a country, east of the mountains, lies the shortest line of railway between the Atlantic and Pacific,—a country rich in mineral wealth, of fertile soil, mild climate, verdant valleys, timbered hills, arable lands yielding grains and grass, with mountain streams for the turning of mill-wheels, rich coal beds, and springs of petroleum!

THE MOUNTAINS

There are several passes at the head-waters of the Missouri which may be used;—the Hell-Gate Pass; the Deer Lodge; and the Wisdom River, or Big Hole, as it is sometimes called, which leads into the valley of the Bitter Root, or St. Mary's. The Big Hole is thus described by Lieutenant Mullan:—

"The descent towards the Missouri side is very gradual; so much so, that, were it not for the direction taken by the waters, it might be considered an almost level prairie country."[9 - Ibid., Vol. XII. p. 169.]

Governor Stevens thus speaks of the valley of the Bitter Root:—

"The faint attempts made by the Indians at cultivating the soil have been attended with good success; and fair returns might be expected of all such crops as are adapted to the Northern States of our country. The pasturage grounds are unsurpassed. The extensive bands of horses, owned by the Flathead Indians occupying St. Mary's village, on the Bitter Root River, thrive well winter and summer. One hundred horses, belonging to the exploration, are wintered in the valley; and up to the 9th of March the grass was fair, but little snow had fallen, and the weather was mild. The oxen and cows, owned here by the half-breeds and Indians, obtain good feed, and are in good condition."[10 - Governor Stevens's Report of the Pacific Railroad Survey.]