CUTLER'S GUN AND A PARK IN THE PLANNING

 

L-R: James Crook, Senator Henry M. Jackson,
with Lyman Cutler's gun, 
and Rhoda Anderson, sister to James,
standing next to the historic blockhouse 
at Garrison Bay, San Juan Island, WA.
Jackson was the chairperson of the Senate Interior 
and Insular Affairs Committee.
Click image to enlarge. 
Low-res scan of an original gelatin-silver photograph from the 
archives of the Saltwater People Historical Society© 

News Notes from the Washington State Historical Society
Vol. 5. No. 1, December 1964

"The world is full of battle monuments. It needs a few monuments to battles that never happened.
      Heed, then, the call of Senator Henry Jackson and others for national attention to be focused on a remote corner of Washington State, where an international boundary dispute almost erupted into battle, and finally, after a decade, was settled by a peaceful method ––arbitration.
      That corner is San Juan Island, the largest island in the group known collectively as the San Juans. On it are two historic sites––English Camp and American Camp. These and the area around them should be purchased by the federal government and turned over to the National Park Service who would then establish the San Juan Historical National Park.
      Some say it ought to be "Pig War" National Park. But that doesn't sound nice. Furthermore, it is inaccurate. There was a pig. But there was no war. And that's what needs to be commemorated.
      We spent last Saturday going to and from San Juan Island on a Coast Guard cutter, along with some 60 others assembled by the Washington State Historical Society, meeting with the local people at Friday Harbor and wandering about the site of English Camp, where the English blockhouse built before the Civil War still stands on the edge of a sheltered cove. Some history has to be related to understand the significance of the site: Euro-American settlers moved onto San Juan Island in the 1850s. Some were American homesteaders. Some were Hudson's Bay Co. sheep raisers. A treaty had been signed in 1946 finally settling the dispute of long-standing over the boundary between Oregon and Canada. It wasn't at 54 degrees, 20 minutes of latitude, as many had advocated, but instead was the 49th parallel and was to extend along "the middle of the channel which separates the continent from Vancouver Island and thence southerly through the middle of the said channel, and of Fuca's straits to the Pacific Ocean."
      This sounded all right in London and Washington, D.C. but it failed to specify which side of the San Juan Islands was to be considered the channel. Americans said it was on the west side. The British said it was on the other.
      Tax collectors, not surprisingly started the big row that ensued. The Hudson's Bay sheepherders wouldn't pay taxes to American tax collectors. So, 30 British sheep were seized and sold for payment of delinquent taxes. This produced an angry letter of protest from James Douglas, the British governor on Vancouver Island, to Gov. Isaac Stevens of newly organized Washington territory. But nothing was done. Then in 1859 an American settler on the island, Lyman A. Cutler, became enraged when one of the Englishmen's pigs kept invading his potato patch. In an unguarded moment, he gave vent to his rage by shooting the pig.
      He regretted his hasty action immediately and went to the Hudson's Bay agent with an offer to pay for the pig. But the Briton was angry, too, and said he would send to Victoria, for a gunboat to come and get Cutler and take him away to be tried and be punished. Cutler reloaded his gun and was prepared to defend himself, but was persuaded by his neighbors to hide so that he couldn't be found when the English came to arrest him. Then the settlers petitioned for help from the army, and a company of federal troops was dispatched from Fort Bellingham. They had no sooner arrived on San Juan, when three British warships anchored offshore and unsheathed their guns, ready for battle.
      The American commander on the island, Capt. George Pickett, showed more restraint than he displayed in later years at the battle of Gettysburg, and refused to fire the first shot. British Admiral Baynes, overruling the hotheaded Gov. Douglas, ordered the British ships not to fire unless they were fired upon.
      Gen. Winfield Scott was rushed to the scene, and he worked out a compromise agreement that called for joint military occupancy of San Juan until the diplomats resolved the question of who owned it. So for the next 12 years, while the diplomats dillied and dallied, the two nations maintained military camps on the island, a few miles apart.
      They didn't menace each other. They got along fine and visited back and forth. Finally, in 1872, the island boundary dispute was submitted to arbitration. The arbiter was the German emperor, Wilhelm I, grandfather of the Kaiser in WW I. He investigated the matter thoroughly and ruled that the channel actually was west of the islands, as the Americans had contended all along.
      Thereupon, the English broke camp, marched down to the shore, and sailed away never to return. They left several of their numbers, however, victims of drownings and accidents, buried in a little graveyard on a hill.
      Within two years a man named Crook moved onto the English campsite to homestead. His son, James Crook, lives there to this day [1964.] Senator Jackson assured him last week that he could have his wish to spend the rest of his days on the site. A man who has lived in one place for 90 years ought not to be moved.
      The federal government, if Jackson's bill goes through, would have no trouble with title insurance. No one but Crook and the State of Washington has owned the property––not since the day the German emperor resolved a dispute that began with the killing of a pig, and provided one of the few examples the world has ever seen of two nations resorting to international arbitration, rather than force, to settle an argument over territorial rights."
John M. McClelland Jr. Reprinted by permission from the Longview Daily News.

❖ ROCHE HARBOR: COMPANY TOWN ❖

   

Early photo of the Roche Harbor Lime Kilns
postmarked 1909
San Juan Island, WA.
Click to enlarge.
Photo by J. A. McCormick.

"History has not recorded the name of the canny Briton at English Camp who first discovered that the hills and cliffs which surrounded the idyllic spot were almost solid limestone. That rock is very valuable mineral. It can be reduced to a compound called “lime,” which is crucial to the steel industry, the paper industry, agriculture, and concrete technology. 

      All that is needed is some strong backs to transport it to a plant and an oven that can reach nearly 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit. At that temperature the rock becomes ‘calcined,’ it changes to a water-soluble residue. High-grade lime has been in demand for centuries in every industrial nation. So those hills around Garrison Bay were even more valuable than if they had been solid coal.

      During the eleven years that the British Marines were quartered at English Camp on the northeast corner of San Juan Island, the chief occupation of the soldiers was not patrolling the area to resist invasions by the Yankees, or even to fight off occasional raids by the Haida tribesmen. Lt. Roche kept most of them busy quarrying the precious stone and stoking the fires under two primitive line kilns that they had installed nearby.

      Hogsheads of the chemical were shipped by the Hudson's Bay Company to British possessions around the world.

      When the English lost domain over the island in the decision handed down by the Emperor of Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm, the Crown lost access to a precious resource. Limestone in commercially worthwhile amounts is found only on San Juan Island in San Juan County. 

      The production of lime and its marketing, even though it was only a trickle from some quarries and kilns on Orcas and the San Juan Islands, attracted considerable interest from mining interests in the lower Sound communities. One of the most keenly-interested Yankees was a young attorney by the name of John Stafford McMillin who had been raised in a lime quarrying county in Illinois. He came to the Pacific Northwest in 1884, to practice law in Tacoma. When he discovered that there was a source of lime in the lands to the north, he bought into the fledgling Tacoma Lime Co and began to deal with buying and selling the commodity.

ROCHE HARBOR,
Inscribed "Largest Lime quarries
west of the Mississippi River."

      When the British Marines packed up and left San Juan Island two kilns were shut down.

      Two Englishmen who had been prospecting for gold in California heard about the limestone quarry at the bay now named for the Commandant of the camp, Roche Harbor. In 1881 they bought the rights to the quarry and the two kilns and began to turn out lime.

      McMillin, who had been able to find only a small amount of limestone near Orting for his new company got wind of the operation on San Juan Island. He began bargaining with the Scurr Brothers, Robert, and Richard, in 1884. By 1886, he had managed to buy the business from the Englishmen. He continued to operate the two army-installed kilns and created a new company, The Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co.

      Mining engineers calculated that the lode of limestone was three-quarters of a mile long and a quarter-mile wide. Not only was there enough rock for many decades of mining, but it was estimated at 98.32% pure carbonate of lime. What McMillin found was the most valuable supply of high-grade lime in the world.

The Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co.,
The Company Town,
San Juan Island, WA.
Click image to enlarge.
Undated photo.

      In a short time, McMillin added three more kilns to the two original ones, which was called Battery #1. Then he built another, much larger plant comprising 8 kilns––Battery #2. These thirteen retorts consumed a prodigious amount of firewood––128 cords per day. The land attached to the Lime Works offered 4,000 acres of timber for the furnaces.

      McMillin created his own little feudal domain. His company town offered the workers trim little houses, the store sold them supplies––both were paid for by scrip which was issued instead of money in pay envelopes. The workforce was made up of Orientals and single and married Caucasians. The single men were housed in a barracks. The Orientals were segregated into a cluster of houses over near the kilns referred to as 'Jap Town.' At its peak, there were 800 people who directly or indirectly were controlled by the Lime Baron.

      While the injustices of the 'Company Town' system were prevalent in Roche Harbor, the Island community did have some needed facilities. There was a Company doctor, Victor Capron. There was a school for the children of the workers. The was also a Methodist Church.

      Although the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co community was a virtual fiefdom to itself, its influence was felt throughout the rest of the Island. When a regular newspaper came to the Island, it fell immediately under the influence of the magnate from Roche Harbor. McMillin became enormously wealthy and he was catered to by the Republican State administration and the business community.

      The barrel factory had a phenomenal history of success in manufacturing. For centuries, barrels had been made by fashioning staves which were cut and beveled and bent into arcs to be put together with steel bands. It was a time-consuming and expensive operation. In 1897, McMillin invented a machine for carving hollowed-out barrel halves. A log the proper size for a  barrel would be split in half and carved by a blade into a half-section of a barrel. When the two halves were finished, they were joined and sealed to make a 

'staveless barrel. The shop was set up on the grounds and called the "Staveless Barrel Co.' With only 50 employees, the machines could turn out 4,000 barrels per day. This was more than enough to meet the demands of the lime works which boasted that they produced '1,500 barrels per day.' The surplus barrels were sold to shippers of other bulk products.

      Whether old 'John S.' himself actually invented the wondrous barrel carving machine is not known. But the boss of the Lime Works had plenty of ingenuity when it came to financing. His fancy didos in the field of stock transfer and manipulation of funds almost earned him a jail sentence in 1906. The barrel company was involved.

      

The company town of the
Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co.
The quarry, the kilns, the McMillin home, a store,
Hotel de Haro, a home for the Doctor, and the
docks for shipping of the lime barrels.
Undated photo, click to enlarge.
These four photos from the archives of the
Saltwater People Historical Society©

Back in the days when the containers were made by artisans, Mr. McMillin created the plant as a separate entity. It was incorporated by the sale of two shares of stock: one purchased by him and the other a Tacoma investor named J.M. Keen, price––price $100 each.

      John S. now had two hats: lime baron and barrel magnate. Wearing the manufacturer's hat, he asked for a contract to provide all the barrels for the lime works. With the quick change of headgear and he accepted the kind offer on behalf of the lime company (which had other stockholders, incidentally.)

      In 1897, Mr. McMillin the inventor sold the new milling machine he had created to Mr. McMillin the Manufacturer––the price was $2,300. While he was in a dickering mode with the coopering McMillin, he sold the right to use the machine to fulfill the contract to supply the barrels to the lime miner. The price was $249,800 which was the exact amount of the stock issue on the Barrel Co. The stock was all owned, except for the one share to Keen, by Mr. McMillin. He bought the shares by signing a note for them.

      Now we have a quarter-million-dollar factory, almost wholly owned by one man, with $200 in its treasury. John S. considered that somewhat untidy––money just lying around unused. So he billed the company $200 for his services in preparing the articles of incorporation. The company, with no demurral, paid the bill.

      The minority stockholders in the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co watched this juggling act with consternation. First of all, he became the majority holder by voting himself a raise in pay, even though the company was losing money. With the paychecks, he bought up most of the stock from frightened stockholders.

      John S. now firmly held all of the controls over the mining, packaging, and distribution of the lime––except one––the transportation of it.

      This called for the acquisition of another hat. It was not difficult for him to get since he was a wheel-horse in the Republican Party in Washington. The governor rewarded his contributions to the party coffers by giving him the job of State Railroad Commissioner.

      The principal duty of this office was to ensure that all shippers were subject to the same rates. Mr. McMillin undertook the job and administered it firmly––with one minor exception ––he permitted the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co to be granted a rate 2 1/2 cents per barrel lower than that of a competitor.

      Eventually, the competitor, E.V. Cowell and several of the manhandled ex-stockholders forced the many-faceted panjandrum into a court of law. In front of a Federal Judge in Seattle, words like 'filcher, 'defrauder,' highbinder,' and 'venal bureaucrat' were bandied about.

      It will come as no surprise to students of the age of rampant laissez-faire in business, a period called by President McKinley 'the Great Barbecue,' that all of the personages represented by John S. McMillin emerged as Simon-pure. With one exception. He did resign his job as Railroad Commissioner."

Jo Bailey-Cummings and Al Cummings. The Settler's Own Stories: San Juan: The Powder-Keg Island. Friday Harbor, WA. The Beach Combers, Inc. 1987. 

Authors of Gunkholing in the San Juans.    

❖ ENGLISH CAMP ❖ ❖ 1946

Mary Crook Davis, 1946
English Camp, San Juan Island, WA.
Original photo from the archives of the S. P. H. S.©

"This day's story is a guided tour with Mrs. Davis, whose Englishman-father William Crook, homesteaded this land while it was still warm from the tread of soldiers marching up and down 12 years from 1860 to 1872. Mrs. Davis was a very small girl then, but she has lived here all her life; she knows the story by heart.
      First, you come down a long private road, through woods and pasture, into the yard where the house is. You knock on the door, pay your 10 cents that Mrs. Davis reluctantly accepts, and then this strong, well-preserved pioneer woman takes you into her front room to see pictures and a few relics she keeps there. You ask about Jim Crook, the brother you have heard so much about––how he makes his own clothes from the sheep's back to his own.

Jim Crook,
San Juan Island, WA.
Original photo from the archives of the S.P.H.S.©

      "Oh, you won't see Jim today, he's out with the wheat. He's busy––yes, he did spin some wool once, and weave himself a suit of clothes. The old loom is still here and the clothes, too, if you want to see them; he's had a lot of notions. His latest is a sawmill and an electric plant run by a windmill..." Mrs. Davis says.
      Now, you go out into the grounds along a road made by the soldiers in the 60s. The trees are planted along the sides in even rows as the English always do things, native firs transplanted in two long rows.
      Ivy grows thick up the trees and all around, Mrs. Davis says. It was brought from England by Mrs. Delacombe, the second officer's wife, who was very homesick here.
      The winding switch-back trail down the hill from here soon arrives at the old blockhouse on the  beach. This building is in better repair than it was when I saw it 15 years ago. Mr. Crook has shingled and mended and whitewashed it afresh. The old frayed shingles from the days of the occupation are neatly piled in heap for souvenir hunters.
      There is a sturdy new stair-ladder up to the second story where the gun holes ring the low wall. If you peep through one of the holes you see Garrison Bay, Henry Island, Vancouver Island across Haro Strait and nearby green points hemmed in blue.
      The blockhouse sits right down on the beach. High tide laps it. Low tide leaves it at the edge of a wide mud flat––the same mud that prevented our coming here by water today and that prevents our going on to Mitchell Bay and Yacht Haven. If anyone but the Crooks owned this place, the blockhouse might itself be part of this mud by now.
      From the blockhouse, you cross the parade ground that is now an orchard. The old barracks building still stands over at the edge where orchard meets woods.
      When you are ready to go, your guide comes with you part of the way back up the hill to the public road again, explaining as you walk together between the Queen Anne's lace, how to get to the little English cemetery where 10 boys are buried. You cross the road and go over a stile and up a hill, or you go through the cows' underpass below the road. Beyond, you follow an indefinite almost-road for a quarter of a mile up the hill to a grove of trees on a knoll of its own overlooking Canada's waters around Vancouver Island.
      The 10 graves are enclosed with a green picket fence. You climb another stile over it to read the inscriptions. Some of them were apparently composed and ordered by the boys themselves, the spelling all their own.
      "In memory of JOs Ellis and THOs Kiddy, Private R.M.LI. who whare accidently Drowned JANy 4th 1863. This Tabblet is Erected by their Comrads...In the midst of life, we are in death..."
      Back at Roche Harbor, tired and dusty from six miles of walking that morning, we said goodbye to the pretty village and rowed away. The flood was running now. It would take us as far as Limestone Point on Orcas. We'd put up our oars, ride that tide, and have a cold lunch in the boat as we slid along.
See you tomorrow. June."
Day 73 of 100 Days in the San Juans, Burn, June. First published by the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. 1946.
The June Burn book in reference library of the Saltwater People Historical Society, SJC.