From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

This item on page 1 of the Jan. 17, 1907 issue of the Seattle Daily News caught my eye due to the use of the words “eccentric,” “peculiar,” and the mention of a $100,000 monument for a man and his dog:

CLAIMS TO BE CHOIR’S WIDOW

Latest Claimants for Estate of Dead Man Declare His Name Was Joseph Calentine

“That Melody Choir, alias Joseph Melchoir was really Joseph Calentine, and that he left a widow and a son residing in Wenatchee, Washington, who are his legal heirs, is the substance of a claim to the estate of the eccentric and wealthy Seattle man who died two weeks ago.”

“Through local attorneys George C. Calentine has petitioned the probate court to appoint a special administrator to the estate of Melody Choir, whose real name was Joseph Calentine. He further alleges that Mrs. Lucy Calentine of Wenatchee, is the widow of Melody Choir, having married him in the East, come West with him and then separated from him. She is said to possess a marriage certificate and other proofs of her claim.”

“The petition for a special administrator to take charge of the estate went on for hearing before Judge Albertson this afternoon. Rev. W.G. Jones, a friend of the dead man, who yesterday applied for the appointment, is satisfactory to the new claimants, Mrs. Calentine and her son.”

“If the special administrator is appointed it will be possible to search the personal effects of Melody Choir for proof of his relationship to the claimants for his money. The special administrator will have no right to carry out the will of the dead man, which provided that his $100,000 estate will be used to build a monument for himself and his dog.”

“The Melchoir family, which is represented in this city by an alleged brother of the deceased, has not yet entered a claim to the estate, but is expected to do so shortly.”

“The petition filed by Calentine does not take cognizance of the peculiar will left by Choir.”

The gentleman known as Melody Choir is yet another one of those great characters in Washington history who has yet to be fully discovered. According to information provided in the 1900 Census, he was born in Kentucky in March, 1850. Several sources indicate his previous name was Joseph H. Melchoir. It would appear he was among the youngest of his siblings. He surfaces in Seattle around the mid-1870s under the name of Melody Choir. His birth family probably lived in Canton, Ohio at this time.

Melchoir was one of the earliest compilers of a Seattle area city directory. His Choir’s Pioneer Directory of the City of
Seattle and King County, History, Business Directory, and Immigrant’s Guide to and Throughout Washington Territory and Vicinity was published in 1878 and contained a statement it was meant to be an annual publication, but apparently only this issue made it to print. The Washington State Library has a copy on microfilm. It is a fun read, which is not something you can normally say about city directories.

In addition to providing colorful local descriptions, Choir included a photograph of himself with the handwritten caption: “His Royal Impudence, M. Choir, as he daily appears out on the war-path of Professional Business.”

Also he gives the reader a full page advertisement of his services and wares, marketing everything from wooden shoes, marble work for cemeteries, real estate, sewing machines, etc.

And as frosting, we are treated to a long poem he created honoring Seattle. His name might’ve been Melody Choir, but there was nothing melodious about his poetry. An example:

In plenitude thy people live,
Regaled by health that’s wealth: so can attain
Blended this gift with their endowments
Ruling power in Mortal’s highest plane:
Here churches and clans, schools and the press, All tutors of the public mind, that governs
Thy people’s hopes and fears, rights and wrongs
Though one and all are clothed as sovereigns.

I vaguely remember adding a local note to the bibliographic record for his directory a few years ago (when I was WSL’s Head of Cataloging) and encountering this poem and the author’s unusual name. At the time my reaction was, “That’s not something you see every day.” Little did I know.

In city directories his occupation is listed as “book agent” in the 1880s, and “real estate” or “capitalist” in the 1890s. For a brief time at the end of the 19th century he amazingly held public office as a Seattle Park Commissioner.

How did Choir acquire his wealth? In volume 90 of the Central Law Journal (Jan.-June 1920) an attorney named Fred H. Peterson contributed an article entitled “Odd Wills and Peculiar Testators.” It turns out Mr. Peterson represented Choir in the 1890s on the losing end of a deed case that went to the State Supreme Court. Peterson didn’t have a lot of positive things to say about his client:

“For many years an eccentric character lived in Seattle, who called himself Melody Choir, his real name being Joseph H. Melchoir. Like many people, not insane, however, he tried to get something for nothing, which he sought to accomplish by acquiring tax titles to Seattle property. Some of the lots he purchased for less than $5 each, through the rapid growth of the city, in the course of thirty years, had increased to $5,000. At the time of his death than $120,000 … For years he lived in a dug-out, his only friend being a dog, as queer as his master.”

Melody Choir’s will apparently is something of a manifesto, as Peterson describes:

“Of course, he left a will. ‘For the benefit of posterity’ he listed mankind according to a scale of merits; some were designated as trustworthy, others as suspicious, and the remainder as ‘unhung scoundrels;’ his counsel and the appellate court attained to the ‘bad eminence’ of the last class.”

“Choir’s will is closely written in a bound book of 148 pages, ten inches by 18 inches. At the top and bottom of each page he wrote in red ink, ‘Witness my hand and seal–Melody Choir,’ followed by an elaborate seal, and dated October 20, 1900. The will was admitted to probate March 1, 1907. He writes of himself thus: ‘The incontrovertible facts in my case are these– there never was a better, all round individual ever set foot upon the regions of this broad State, than myself!’ He declares that in 1875 he read Blackstone, but detested attorneys, for he says: ‘I never liked lawyers as a class, and to keep away from them and steer clear of their inveigling schemes and grasping machinations– ever an active ingredient in their diabolical profession– has been my constant, lifelong effort.’”

“His egotism stood out ad nauseam; his egregious vanity caused him to provide that all his property should be spent for a mausoleum for himself and dog ‘Hoboe,’ [SW note: all other sources spell the dog's name as "Hobo"] plans and specifications for which are completely shown in the will– it even shows a diagram of his teeth; his great virtues were to be engraven on the monument in ten languages. That no one might contest because of any marital relations, he declares: ‘I never was married or even engaged to be married. Nor ever gave to any female, old or young, married or single, maid or widow, white or any color, directly or indirectly, verbal or written, open or implied, any pledge, vow or promise of marriage whatsoever.’”

Choir died in Seattle on the last day of 1906.   Choir’s dog, Hobo, a black and white Newfoundland, was killed by a streetcar on May 26, 1906.

It took almost a full year to settle Choir’s estate. The Superior Court jury decided in favor of granting the now $200,000 estate to Choir’s mother, 89 year old Elizabeth Melchoir of Canton, Ohio, apparently rejecting the Calentine claim. There was a real Joseph Calentine, he was last recorded living with his family in Kansas in 1875, but according to Census records he was a carpenter who was Ohio born and at least six years older than Melody Choir.

Choir was buried in Seattle’s Lake View Cemetery, under considerably more modest circumstances than he dictated, and Hobo was not allowed to be buried with him.    Where and how Hobo’s body was preserved is a question yet to be answered.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

The very first issue of The Democratic Press (August 31, 1877) covered a visit to Port Townsend by Treasury Agent William Gouverneur Morris. It is safe to say the reporter was not impressed.

  A GILT-EDGED FARCE

 “Port Townsend has been the recipient, recently, of a visit from Major Morris, Special Agent of the Treasury Department. This individual was sent here ostensibly for the purpose of inspecting affairs pertaining to the Custom House, Marine Hospital, etc., which errand was sufficient to insure him a hospitable reception by Custom House officials.”

“Doubtless the gallant Major will long remember his biennial visits to Port Townsend. Certainly no where that his arduous duties, as a Government Inspector may call him, will he receive more downright gushing homage than was lavished upon him here by those whose affairs with the Government he was sent here to inspect. Quartered, with his family, at the residence of the contractor for the Government hospital, no pains or expense were spared to render his stay a perpetual ovation. The gallant Inspector spent the time while here in fishing and hunting, wining and dining, always under guard by some of the official brotherhood. Supplied with a pack of deer hounds and ample escort, he was carried in state about among neighboring islands in a steamboat, rioting amid the finest hunting grounds and trout-streams in the Territory, slaughtering the timid deer by dozens, in pure wantoness, to cast the carcasses to the dogs and crows.”

“But all good times must have an ending. An order from the Department called our festive Nimrod back to San Francisco, to attend the investigation of Custom House affairs in that city. We would like to read his official report of this visit to Port Townsend. No doubt he remunerates our obsequious officials by an abundance of fulsome flattery in return for their zeal in fawning over him while here.”

“He has gone from among us– vamoosed– and the Custom House folk breathe easier. But the ruby glow of a blooming nose is missed, which was wont to illuminate the sample rooms of our wholesale liquor houses a few short weeks ago, and the bummers who polish the counters and the heads of beer barrels in those institutions, while waiting for free drinks, listen in vain for a familiar voice, which in maudlin accents rehearsed pointless jokes and retailed obscene stories. Gone like the shadow of a beautiful vision! Vanished like the memory of some pleasant dream!”

Major Morris actually had quite a record. The book Who’s Who in Alaskan Politics gives the vital statistics on his career: MORRIS, William Gouverneur, collector of customs, lawyer. B. in Morrisania, N.Y., Dec. 25, 1832; father was Army officer; collector of customs, Key West, Fla., 1849; B.A., Georgetown Coll.; LL.B., Harvard U.; clerk, Calif. Supreme Ct., 1857-; fought in Civil War; U.S. Marshal, Calif., 1865-74; special agent, U.S. Treas. Dept., 1875-; made 2 trips to Alaska; collector of customs for Alaska, Sitka, 1881-84; died in Sitka, Jan. 31, 1884; buried in Nat. Cemetery, Sitka. Mem., Masons, Loyal Leg., GAR. Republican.

Another brief, but colorful description of Morris comes from pioneer James G. Swan, who described the Treasury Agent in 1880: “The major was short of stature, with duck legs and a ponderous belly …” (found in Thomas Warner Camfield’s Port Townsend : vol. 1. An Illustrated History of Shanghaiing, Shipwrecks, Soiled Doves and Sundry Souls)

The Democratic Press appears to have ceased publication in early 1881. It is available on microfilm from the Washington State Library.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

First there was Fort Colvile, the Hudson’s Bay Fort in present day Stevens County. Later, at another location a few miles away, there was Fort Colville, the U.S. military fort. As you can see by the spelling, the original Fort Colvile had the “L” kicked out of it. This randomly found article in the July 15, 1910 Chewelah Independent described how Fort Colvile was lost to history:

 HISTORIC OLD FORT GOES UP IN SMOKE

 Blockhouse Near Kettle Falls Burns. — Was One of the Oldest in the State

 “The old Hudson Bay fort and group of buildings one-half mile from the Kettle Falls was destroyed by fire last week. The buildings were commenced in 1824 and finished the following year. The long frame building used for office and living purposes was burned and rebuilt in 1861. The old fort or blockhouse is said by some to be one of the oldest buildings in the state.”

 “When Governor Mead and Senator Ankeny were here five years ago they became interested in these buildings and were anxious that the state would become the owner of the property, for its historical values.”

 “The late general McClellan was a guest of this place over night. It was here that Mrs. Custer, widow of General Custer, met the late Randall McDonald. In her letters afterwards published in Harper’s Weekly she referred to him and called him the prince of paupers, which caused him much sorrow. The property belongs to Donald McDonald, who is now in Montana.”

 “Many old relics were destroyed among them being an old flintlock musket. The old fort was substantially built of hewn logs, and was in a good state of preservation. The bullet holes in it could be counted by thousands. The cause of the fire is unknown.”

 “The old fort was built in 1826 by Donald McDonald, Sr., who was at one time in command of the Hudson Bay company, which established trading posts at different points over the northwest, and was bequeathed by him to his son, Donald McDonald, who still owns the property. Books more than 100 years old formed  a large portion of the library, besides there were contained in the confines of its walls curios of almost inestimable value.”

 “The little old cannon used in the defense of the fort in the early days, saw service in the battle of Waterloo when the combined armies of Europe defeated the legions of France.”

 The Fort Colvile library must have been one of the very earliest in Pacific Northwest history, making the place a cultural as well as economic center for the Inland Empire. Washington would not have a library supported by public funds until the creation of the Washington Territorial Library (now Washington State Library) in 1853.  About 800 volumes from that initial WTL/WSL collection still exist.

 In Book 1 of the Colville Collection, author David H. Chance traces the rise and fall of the fort in detail. After the land was abandoned by the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1871 it fell into various disputes of ownership. When the 20th century rolled around, the government was starting to recognize the historical value of the site and began to express an interest in preserving it. But that came to a fiery end in 1910. By coincidence, nearby St. Paul’s Mission burned down on the same day as the fort, leading some to speculate the buildings were torched by certain developers. But as Chance concludes, “There is no evidence to warrant anything more than suspicion.”

 But if fire had not destroyed what remained of Fort Colvile, water probably would’ve finished the job 30 years later when the Grand Coulee Dam was built, creating Franklin D. Roosevelt Lake and submerging Fort Colvile’s site. During occasion drawdowns the area is visited by archaeologists, but the site is really counted as a piece of history you’ll need scuba gear to visit.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

From 1909 to 1921, give or take a few years, there was a woman who created a local news stir wherever she went, but somehow evaded the radar of national media. She criss-crossed the United States on foot and went under the name “Hiking” or “Hikin’” Nell. Nearly all the information sources I can find on Nell come from newspapers around the U.S. The following article is the earliest mention of Nell I have located, from The Pasco Express, March 4, 1909:

 WOMAN TRAMP IN COURT

 “Hiking Nell” Faces the August Majesty of the Law

 VARIED AND VIVID EXPERIENCES

 While Youth Has Played Havoc With “Nell” Her Pedestrian Qualities Remain Unimpaired.

 “After walking 1300 [i.e. 3100] miles on a wager of $5,000 and then to be arrested and forced to spend 60 days in the King county jail just a few miles from her coveted goal. This and even more is the grievance of Nellie Hale, alias ‘Hikin” Nell, who was arrested by officers Dent and Torrents Tuesday afternoon.”

“According to a statement made by Officer Dent in justice court ‘Nell’ was found in a small tie house constructed of old ties. In company with three tramps, she was busily engaged in preparing a mulligan stew. Without protest she accompanied the two officers to the city jail, and the following day was given a hearing before Justice McCarthy.”

“‘I don’t want no comment cast my way,’ said Nell, ‘for I am nothing but a tramp. I was just walkin’ my way on a bet from Pascolia, Florida, to the coast. What have you’s got against me? I never harmed nobody nohow.’”

“The woman says she is 35 years of age and has traveled extensively, but always walks. When she appeared in court she carried a large bundle of clothing consisting of shoes, skirts and waists. She answered the chief’s questions rapidly and seemed to take the whole matter as a joke until W.J. Davis appeared upon the scene with his camera and attempted to take a picture of the woman. As Mr. Davis was acting under instructions, Nell immediately protested and it was not until a collection was taken and promise given that the ‘whole bunch would be shot’ that she reluctantly consented to have her picture taken. The newspaper fraternity, together with the distinguished court and officers of the law lined up as per agreement and the heroine of many ‘hikes’ was for the first time, the victim of the camera.”

“‘Yes, judge, if you will let me go, I will hike mighty quick,’ said Nell. ‘It does seem a funny thing that I should start from Pascolia and wind up in Pasco. Ain’t that terrible luck?’”

It would be wonderful if someone could produce the photograph taken by Mr. Davis that day. Unfortunately it was not included in the news piece.

Nell’s story seemed to change from town to town. She gave different accounts of her past, but piecing together all the tales a rough portrait emerges. She was from St. Louis, Missouri, born around 1878, and called herself Nellie Hale, sometimes she said Nellie Hall. But as she told the Fort Worth Star Telegram in 1910, “I will never tell my right name because I don’t want to disgrace my folks, and because I do not want them to know where I am.”

Nell said she received a music education in Atchison, Kansas, then married. Her husband, who she said was very rich, became abusive and Nell decided to hit the road. For some reason she thought he decided she was dead, another explanation for her use of a fake name.

In the early years of her growing fame, Nell told the press she was walking across the country on a $5000 wager from Richard K. Fox of the Police Gazette, but she lost it due to missing the six month deadline by being detained so many times by law enforcement officers. She also claimed to know Della Fox, a prominent actress of the day (also from St. Louis), and Tammany Boss “Big Tim” Sullivan.

Nell frequently found shelter when she was placed in jails or a mental health facility. She also approached private homes. In the only non-newspaper account I found regarding Nell, Ida K. Maloy’s 1955 essay reprinted in The Cochise Quarterly (v. 11, no. 1 spring 1983) recalled a 1911 visit from the legendary traveler Nell near Manzora, Arizona.

Maloy wrote: “As I looked at her, I thought I had never seen such a sight. She had on a light tan coat made of about eighteen or twenty gores, as was the style in those days, a long black voile skirt with a train, a blouse, and men’s shoes. Her dutch bob of black hair fell in strings about her thin face. She wore a black scarf. As I waited for some sort of introduction, the traveler introduced herself, saying, ‘I’m Hiking Nell. Haven’t you ever heard of me?’”

The last record I can locate for Nell is an article in the Casa Grande Valley Dispatch (Arizona), June 24, 1921, which concludes with: “According to the tramper this is her last journey and she is Los Angeles bound where she will end her travels and contemplates writing the unusual story of her life.”

The Pasco Express is an ancestor of the present-day Tri-City Herald.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

This week’s random article comes from the Jan. 5, 1901 issue of The Ballard News, published at a time when Ballard was an independent incorporated city. But the news itself is actually about Seattle, and the almost total destruction of the Seattle Public Library by fire on the evening where 1900 turned into 1901.

According to John Douglas Marshall’s book, Place of Learning, Place of Dreams (2004), SPL had struggled in the early years to find funding and a permanent home. On Jan. 12, 1899 the Library opened in the posh quarters of the Yesler mansion, and patron usage soared. But City Librarian Charles Wesley Smith expressed concern the enormous Victorian wooden structure was a fire hazard. The memories of Seattle’s great 1889 inferno were still fresh.

Smith’s fears were well founded. Practically the whole collection went up in smoke on the cusp of 1900/1901. Andrew Carnegie came to the rescue and in short order a fine new library was constructed. The cause of the fire was never fully explained. There was some feeling it was sparked by someone who wanted to force the issue of finding a secure home for SPL. One prominent Seattle educator even declared, “All glory to the man who applied the torch.”

This article was apparently originally published in the Seattle Mail and Herald. It is interesting how many of the points made in promoting the local library in 1901 remain valid over a century later:

 $35,000 WORTH OF BOOKS

 That Was Seattle’s Loss in Tuesday Night’s Fire

 “Ever since Seattle’s great fire the city has been learning to turn apparent evil into good and to make the most of her calamities. The same spirit which prompted her to rise up in the ashes of 1889 and build on new foundations the basis of a greater city than could ever have sprung from the old, will not desert her now, as she stands and looks in the ashes of what was, a few days since, the pride of every man, woman and child on Puget Sound,– the Seattle Public Library.”

“All are by this time acquainted with the fact that on New Year’s night the library, consisting of $35,000 worth of books and  paraphernalia, was destroyed by fire.”

“Until this calamity few people had known in just what an exalted position they held this institution; but the calamity has appealed more directly to the people than would the destruction of any other institution, public or private, in the city, with the possible exception of the University.”

“A public library such as this, is of incalculable value to any city in which it is located. A public library operated in such a satisfactory way as was this one is, we believe, of as much value to the city as the churches combined.”

“The Seattle Library had 8,200 patrons, and it may be safely calculated on the basis of five readers for every card– more than 40,000 readers.”

“It had an average of 2,500 visitors daily. The number going in and out of the library building on last Thanksgiving day, aggregated 3,000.”

“There is another fact– and it is important– that hundreds and even thousands of men and girls, who had not decent rooms or apartments, spent all their leisure time in the library. Now that the establishment is destroyed and temporarily inaccessible, they are seen walking listlessly about the streets or lounging in clubs or saloons– for they are out of a home. These, and the further fact that education and high ideals are the acknowledged solution to the problem of crime, are some of the reasons urged why the Seattle Public Library was of such vital importance to the city. Outside of all other argument there is the fact that no other city of Seattle’s size could afford to be without a well equipped complete library.”

“We desire to commend the Library committee of the city council upon their prompt and decisive action. It seems that they have no other thought in mind than that the city must at once proceed, not only to place the library back in even a better state than before, but more important than all else, to purchase a site, forthwith, and construct a fireproof library building that will answer for all time.”

“This is as it should be. Seattle is not a city of ephemeral hopes and iridescent booms. She is building for all time. Mr. Smith, the man who has conducted to such perfect satisfaction, the affairs of the City Library for so many years, has been working for two years past to this one end– a permanent library building for Seattle. The city can afford to take up the matter at once,– rather, it can not afford not to, and we are glad to be able to inform our readers that the committee will report to this effect to the city council.”

“The locations being considered as most desirable are, we are informed, the present site and the old University grounds. It is not known that either of these is available at reasonable figures, but they, together with others, are under contemplation of the committee.”

Amor de Cosmos

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

Now here’s a sentence I bet no one has constructed before: This is a tale of a crazed Canadian politician juggling and insulting a steak while in the process angering a future Washington Secretary of State to the point of near fisticuffs.

The following article was found at random in the Dec. 16, 1895 issue of The Spokesman-Review. It recalls a visit to Kalama in 1873 by British Columbia’s 2nd Premier, a gentleman by the unusual name of Amor de Cosmos.

Amor de Cosmos has been described as “flamboyant,” “eccentric,” “a racist drunk,” “egotistical,” “disorderly,” “a bad smell in a high wind,” and “fearfully tedious.” He was a major figure in BC journalism and politics from the late 1850s to early 1880s. Born William Alexander Smith in Nova Scotia in 1825, he appears to have been something of an outrageous character for most of his life. In 1895 he was officially declared “of unsound mind,” and died on July 4, 1897 while under the care of his brother. Amor Lake on Vancouver Island is named after him.

  CHANGED HIS NAME

 —–

 An Eccentric Character Now Lying at Death’s Door in Victoria.

 —–

 SMITH TO DE COSMOS

 —–

 His Remarkable Performance With a Tough Beefsteak at a Kalama Hotel — Member Parliament.

 “The Hon. Amor de Cosmos, one of the first members British Columbia sent to the Dominion parliament, is very ill at his home in Victoria. The forty-niners of California will best recall him under the name of John Smith, an American, who was something of a globe-trotter, and who was the hero of many adventures. He grew to be ‘well fixed’ while sojourning at the Golden gate, and to wear an expensive white shirt front about which a heavy gold chain meandered in connection with a flowing beard and locks that would put those of the Poet-Scout Crawford to the blush.”

“Comparative wealth spoiled him, and he sickened of the ancient family name of John Smith, so he sent a bill to the California legislature, praying permission to change it to the more modern one of Amor de Cosmos. Such bills generally pass without any attention whatever, but in this case a member who was something of a wag, moved as an amendment that the name be changed to Patrick McFarlan McGinnin McGinty O’Rourke, and this amendment came within one vote of being carried.”

“Mr. de Cosmos carried his new name over the border to British Columbia, and there naturalized it. He left a record in the Dominion house of commons of having, on a filibustering occasion, addressed the house for 72 hours, one of the longest speeches on record there. One of the resolutions he introduced that created some laughter at the time, was that no man should be employed on the Canadian Pacific railroad, then a government undertaking, whose hair measured more than seven inches. This was aimed at Chinese labor. Mr. de Cosmos’ hair was then 17 inches probably, and the late Sir John A. Macdonald facetiously observed: ‘That settles the cosmogony of the road for all time.’”

“‘Yes,’ said ex-Senator Fairweather yesterday, ‘I knew De Cosmos very well. The forty-niners are getting scarce. De Cosmos is a character. He resembled in appearance the late Carter Harrison, Chicago’s famous mayor. His hair and whiskers were a trifle darker and his complexion, strange to say, more of a Burgundy tint than the illustrious democrat.’”

“‘He made a great speech to save some rights of settlers in British Columbia in the early ’70s, and was completely exhausted at the hour of final adjournment. This successful effort endeared him to the people and he was sent to the Dominion parliament from the province. His last name was chosen by himself, and was certainly an improvement on Smith, Smyth or Smithe.’”

“‘After his election to Ottawa he started for the seat of government in the winter of 1873 via Tacoma, Kalama, Portland and San Francisco. No steamships were running between Victoria and sound ports to San Francisco, no transcontinental railroads existed, but the Central and Union Pacific.’”

J. H. Price

“‘When he arrived in Kalama, to his disgust the Columbia river was frozen between that point and Portland, and he had to remain there until it was opened.’”

“‘He was a guest at the Fulton house, kept then by A.M. Patterson, now the big hop grower of Cowlitz county. Secretary of State J.H. Price, myself and others made that hotel our home. The morning succeeding De Cosmos’ arrival we were late at breakfast. The dining room had been closed, but as old patrons we were admitted and Mrs. Patterson herself was waiting on Jim Price and Bob McGregor and myself when De Cosmos woke up and was admitted to the table. His hair and whiskers were as long as described in the article you have shown me.’”

“‘We were eating our sour grass steak, as all lower Columbia beef was called at that time, with contentment. When De Cosmos was served with his, the first thing he did was to gaze at it suspiciously. It was to him neither beef nor bullion. He hit the steak with his knife viciously and made no impression on it. He turned it over and performed the same operation with the same result. He then gazed at us, at the walls and ceiling and proceeded to toy with that piece of meat in a manner that astonished us. We did not know him, but concluded at once that he was a juggler.’”

“‘He turned the fork in his left hand, jabbed it into the steak, raised it to the elevation of his nose, undercut it with his knife in his right, and tossing it to the ceiling, caught it on its return with his fork and took another whack at it. After repeating this two or three times he remarked that it was not fit for a dog to eat.’”

“‘At this Price jumped up and said he had been eating that kind of steak for six months and was no dog either, and demanded an apology.’”

“‘The lover of the world got into deep water and was taken out of the dining room by Mrs. Patterson and politely requested to go elsewhere. As he left the room, however, he looked at Price enviously, and remarked that a man who could exist on that kind of beef must have a stomach like a bullion retort?’”

John Wilson Sprague

“‘He reported to General Sprague that he had been assaulted by a lot of ruffians at the hotel and asked his protection. The general entertained him at his home, and Price, who was revenue inspector at Kalama then, did not annoy him on his departure by inspecting his baggage.’”

“‘I met him 10 years later at Victoria and he treated me nicely. He was a bright man and did much for the land of his adoption.’”

It is interesting the above article assumed Amor de Cosmos was originally an American.

The teller of the tale was Handford Wentworth Fairweather (1852-1919) who was a member of the 1889 Constitutional Convention and served in the 1st Washington State Legislature as a Senator from Lincoln County.

J.H. Price was James H. Price (1847-1919), Washington’s 2nd Secretary of State, serving from 1893-1897.

General Sprague was John Wilson Sprague (1817-1894), Civil War military figure and co-founder of Tacoma. Sprague, Washington, originally called Hoodooville,  (and where Sen. Fairweather later lived) was named in his honor.

The newspapers of Amor de Cosmos, The British Colonist and the Daily British Colonist, which he edited until 1863, are in the WSL newspapers on microfilm collection.

More information about Amor de Cosmos and other British Columbia premiers can be found in: British Columbia’s Premiers in Profile : the Good, the Bad, and the Transient by William Rayner.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

The random reel for this week contained the following article from the Dec. 17, 1920 issue of the South Bend Journal:

 “COFFEE-O”, ONCE A RESIDENT, RETURNS AGAIN TO SOUTH BEND

 Had Troubled Career — Is Sure He Can Make Gold — Fears Government Will Stop Him — Has Improved His Coffee Substitute.

 “After over two years absence Albert Cornell, better known as ‘Coffee-O’ after a coffee substitute he invented, arrived in the city looking prosperous and more confident than ever that he had discovered the method of making gold by the combination of certain gases. It may be remembered that he came here first and opened a dyeing establishment and then left town and in about a year returned with a preparation in which peanuts and grains had a large part which made a very good substitute for coffee. It became locally popular and the local merchants pushed it. It bade fair to be a success but Cornell was more interested in making gold directly than in making it indirectly through profits on ‘Coffee-O.’ Then also the prices of the materials rose as the war progressed and the manufacture of the substitute was not so profitable. He carried on his experiments for making gold mostly at night and produced so much foul smelling smoke and so got on the nerves of his neighbors with his frequent explosions that the city authorities twice made him move and he finally made his last stand just outside the city limits in Alta Vista with the Hummel family.”

“As Cornell is an Austrian by birth and was not naturalized the impression became widespread that he was making bombs, or trying to, and then mysterious bundles were taken to his place by night and a German friend of his was caught coming from there with a gunny sack containing bottles and then there was a new theory that he was making moonshine when Cornell declares that all he was doing was giving his friend some medicine of his own concoction. Cornell was watched by the county and city authorities and he decided to leave town and go to Seattle, where he consulted the then District Attorney, Clay Allen, who advised him to go to Washington City. He went there not knowing that, as a citizen of an enemy country, like Austria, his presence in the District of Columbia was forbidden. Fortunately for him he reported at the Washington police station, showing that he was acting in good faith. He was promptly arrested and jailed but through the efforts of Congressman Johnson and Senator Chamberlain he was released and he returned to Puget Sound and located in Tacoma where he experimented with his ‘Coffee-O’ and later resumed his explosive attempts to make gold and he declares that he was never molested by his neighbors in Tacoma as their nerves were evidently not so easily jarred by violent eruptions and vile smelling smoke.”

 Afraid of Government

 “Cornell is just as positive as ever that he can make gold and declares that he is now awaiting an assayer’s report on some of his last batch of artificial ‘ore’ and that he has on hand a large quantity of the ore, or material which he has made from which he can easily extract gold. His only anxiety is that the government won’t let him make gold after he has demonstrated that he can make it cheaply, presumably because it will revolutionize the monetary system of the world because it is based on gold. He declares that other investors and discoverers have been discredited and hooted at before they made good on their discoveries and he says that he is in that class.”

Coffee-O Extract Good

 “Leaving his gold experiments aside he has really greatly improved his coffee substitute and has a good thing in that. He has interested Tacoma capital and it is being given a thorough trial. He now makes a liquid extract from the original ‘Coffee-O’ so that all that has to be done is to put a teaspoon of the extract into a cup of hot water and you have a very good coffee substitute. He says that he has changed his formula too somewhat and now makes four by products which will sell for enough to more than make the extract pure velvet. After making the extract he says that he can make from the residue ‘mapleine’ which is used to make an excellent imitation of maple sugar and syrup, a breakfast cereal and a salad oil, all of superior quality. He is apparently amply supplied with funds. He is here visiting the Hummel family.”

With the help of Robert Bailey’s North Pacific County Newspaper Index, 1889-1981 I was able to track down a bit more information on “Coffee-O” Cornell.

He was born Albert Kornelius, July 1, 1887 in the Bukovina region of the Austrian Empire to German parents. He arrived in the United States on Dec. 15, 1905 and within a short time unofficially changed his name to Albert Cornell. By 1910 he was living in Aberdeen, but then made his way to South Bend, where he set up a laboratory.

His “Coffee-O” product was patented in 1915 and apparently enjoyed some initial economic and critical success, buying him time to experiment with creating artificial gold.

But his activities frightened the neighbors. They complained about the toxic fumes, the noises, the explosions. Finally, in 1917, he was arrested and his operations shut down as a public nuisance. When he appeared before the City Council to argue his case, the debate became so heated one councilman invited Cornell to step outside where they could settle the matter with fists, but Coffee-O didn’t take the bait.

He lived in Tacoma throughout the 1920s. In Feb. 1928 he landed in the hospital as the result of a powerful explosion, a blast that destroyed his home and disfigured his person to some degree. He refused to divulge the purpose of his experiment.

Coffee-O Cornell appears in the Tacoma City Directory up to 1930 and then vanishes only to resurface in the 1940 census as a patient in Western State Hospital. He was an intriguing character who left us with a long trail of little mysteries.

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

The town of Sidney, Washington once had a newspaper with the unusual title of People’s Broadax. The first issue, dated Oct. 27, 1889,  was published just before statehood, and the final issue appears to be June 6, 1891. The Washington State Library has a complete run on microfilm.

It was in the very last issue I found this interesting bit of news we can add to Washington State cat lore. It took place in Chico, which is north of Bremerton. Those of you who live with and love felines might say the term “strange freak” is redundant when used with “cat,” but this story does stand out a bit from most other kitty tales.

Strange Freak of a Cat

“G.C. Sutherland of Chico was in Sidney last Thursday and gave the Broadax a call. While here he related a strange freak of his black cat, which for novelty eclipses anything of the kind we have heard for a long time. He stated that she had kittens in a duck’s nest, and about the time the kittens were born three young ducks appeared. Soon afterward the old cat, to avoid the annoyance of the children, removed the kittens and ducks to a spare chamber up stairs. She regards the ducks with the same paternal care and solicitude that she does her own offspring, licking them all over at times and carrying them around the same as she does her kittens, and even stealing food for them. Mr. Sutherland says if you don’t believe it, call at his house and be convinced.”

Now if you are scrambling to try and find Sidney on a modern map, don’t bother. Today the town is called Port Orchard. According to James W. Phillips in Washington State Place Names, “The town was platted as Sidney by developer Sidney Stephens, but in 1903, at the request of residents, the state legislature renamed it and shortly afterward made it the county seat.”

A map of Sidney was published in the same issue of People’s Broadax as the cat story.

As for Mr. Sutherland, who apparently built the first hotel in Chico, the book Kitsap County History (1981) gives a brief biography: “Captain George C. and Christina Sutherland arrived from Port Arthur, Canada, in 1889 with their children Horatio, Elizabeth (Donovan), John and Jessie (Green). He operated a salmon saltery on the beach and was the area’s first photographer, calling his firm Sutherland Brothers or Olympic View Company.” I wonder if he ever took a picture of that cat with the ducks?

The Toledo *

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

This week I grabbed a reel of microfilm at random and found myself drawn to an article on the very first frame. I was reading the June 3, 1887 issue of Cowlitz’s Advocate, a newspaper from Kalama.

The newspaper was less than a year old when the presumed writer of the article below, William D. Close (1845-1914), purchased the paper in May 1887. A Union vet from the Civil War who had been wounded in action, Mr. Close had moved to Washington Territory in 1880. He had a varied career and at different  times had been employed as a farmer, fisherman, postmaster, county treasurer, deputy sheriff, mercantile operator, hotel manager, and from May 1887 to October 1888, newspaperman. A more detailed biography of Close can be found in the 1893 edition of An Illustrated History of the State of Washington.

  ACCIDENTS TO THE TOLEDO

 The Steamer Collide with a Ferry — Steampipe Bursts — Frightened Passengers

 “Last Saturday, as the steamer Toledo was rounding too to make a landing at Castle Rock, and just above Whittle’s ferry, Mr. Chas. F. Atkins, who manages the ferry boat, thinking the steamer would pick up and get out of his way, but, the current being very swift, the boat did not pick up but dropped down stream. Seeing a collision was unavoidable the captain of the Toledo stopped the wheel, when the ferry-boat struck the steamer about three feet forward of the wheel– the steamer being slightly quartering in the current, drifted against the ferry, and the ferry which is propelled by the current upon a wire cable, raised high enough to allow the steamer to pass under it, being set so that the current pressed the ferry against the steamer so strong that they could not be separated– the pressure of the current against the steamer, and the pressure of both against the ferry, something had to give away. First the pins which holds the roller by which the cable down upon the pilot house and became connected with the cord attached to the whistle, causing a mournful sound to issue therefrom, as though the steamer was in terrible distress. Captain Orrin Kellogg quickly detached the cable from the cord and stifled the sound, when the pressure becoming so great it was evident something must give away, when to the great relief of all the ropes running from the cable to the ferry parted, and the steamer drifted down stream free with but slight damage to her pilot house and the bending of the whistle-pipe. The ferry was quickly tied to the steamer which towed it back to the landing, where it was tied up with but slight damage. The steamer then landed on the Castle Rock side and took on some passengers.”

1887 Map of the Castle Rock Area **

 ANOTHER ACCIDENT

“The reporter reluctantly went aboard, thinking it a day of accidents, and the steamer proceeded on her way. When about one mile down the river all at once a hissing sound of escaping steam came from the lower deck, soon enveloping the steamer in steam, which caused a terrible commotion among the passengers. Women screamed and fainted; men threw down their cards and rushed out on deck, vowing, if saved, they would do better in the future. An old lady would have jumped overboard had she not been catched and held by Mr. Willard Johnson. Mr. and Mrs. Zeller, of Portland, came rushing out of the cabin, and in the excitement Mr. Zeller’s hat was knocked off and overboard, when the writer quietly but firmly got a hold them and endeavored to quiet them.”

“At this moment Captain Orrin Kellogg appeared and assured the passengers they were in no danger, as the escaping steam was from a small pipe which had been injured by the cable. The steamer was landed and tied up, and the steam allowed to escape, when it took but a few minutes to repair the damage, and we were soon again [on] our way. A lady fainted the second time before quiet was restored. A man, with a cut foot, sat quiet and as cool as a cucumber, waiting for some one to bring his crutches. It is reported, with what degree of truth we cannot say, that the ‘devil’ of the Advocate office, who was on board, quietly, but very swiftly, made his way to a stateroom and tucked himself under the bed. We know he was not to be found for some time. He says he does not know how many points he had in a game of whist, but he knows he made it to a point to get away from there as soon as possible.”

The Toledo was a sternwheeler and was such a major part of Cowlitz River life the settlement at the northernmost point of the ship’s circuit was named after the craft. Toledo, Washington is still there today. The ship was built in 1878, rebuilt in 1885, and was sold to another company in 1891. The Toledo was wrecked in 1896 on the Yamhill River.

The advent of the automobile and subsequent improved roads brought the age of steamboats on the Cowlitz to an end in 1918.

Some materials containing information on the Toledo in WSL’s collection include:

The Toledo Community Story 1800-2008

A Century of Paddlewheelers in the Pacific Northwest, the Yukon and Alaska

Cowlitz River Navigation with Respect to the Development of the Town of Toledo, Washington

*  Photo of sternwheeler Toledo taken from Cowlitz Corridor (1953)

** Map of Castle Rock and Cowlitz River from Anderson’s Map of Cowlitz County, Washington (1897) which is also available in digital form online

Alfred M. Hubbard

From the desk of Steve Willis, Central Library Services Program Manager of the Washington State Library:

The Hubbard Coil sounded too good to be true. As it turned out there was a little secret component the inventor neglected to share with the press.

This week’s random article about the seemingly magical energy-producing device demonstrated by Alfred M. Hubbard was found in The Monroe Monitor, Sept. 17, 1920:

 MYSTERIOUS COIL PROVES SUCCESS

RUNS AUTOMOBILE ON EVERETT STREETS AND BOAT IN SEATTLE LAKE.

May Reach the Farm to Run Labor-Saving Machinery and Solve Ever-Present Labor Problem.

 “In consideration of the telephone, wireless, airplanes and other inventions the man who said ‘there ain’t no such animal,’ when he saw a giraffe should have passed on, but in the face of the claims of a new invention by Alfred M. Hubbard, a Seattle boy, engineers and scientists are reviving the ancient phrase and people generally are waiting to be convinced although willing, so willing, to have the invention develop into a fact.”

“What Hubbard claims to have is a coil that takes its power from the air and turns out an electric current that will run lights, motors, automobiles, stoves, anything where power is needed without money and without price once the coil is installed.”

“An ‘atmospheric power generator’ he calls it for want of a better name.”

No Light Bills

 “A coil it is, or a series of coils, a central coil surrounded by smaller coils and all wound to form a big coil. No moving parts, no noise, no battery, a little affair about eight or ten inches long. Hubbard connected it up to an ordinary electric light which immediately began to glow and continued to glow and would continue to glow indefinitely– Hubbard claimed.”

“The light demonstration was given last December in the office of one of the Seattle newspapers. Later Hubbard went to Washington, D.C., to arrange for getting a patent. Then he came back and retired into his laboratory to work out a larger coil and the problems of connecting it up to an automobile or a boat.”

“With no particular training for his work except that which every boy who has an inherent curiosity for mechanical things possesses, Hubbard has taken to the study of electricity and the hours that most boys spend in the swimming pool or at other kinds of pool he puts in working with batteries, motors, wireless and his coil. He says he felt that there was a great deal of electric power free in the atmosphere and set out to harness it. He does not think that he has discovered perpetual motion, he makes no such claim, but thinks he has succeeded in transforming the earth’s lines of magnetic force into electrical energy available for use.”
“One thing is certain, he has stumped all of the electrical engineers and scientists, none of whom have been able to offer any possible explanation for what he has done.”

Drives a Launch

 “A short time ago Hubbard invited some Seattle people out to the yacht club and took them for a ride in a launch. There was no engine in the launch, only a small motor. With him Hubbard took a coil, larger than the one he used for the light, but not so large that he couldn’t carry it with him. The coil was connected to the motor and the boat started out from the dock. Around the lake it went and then back to the club house. The people with him lifted the coil and looked at it. Then they started on a still hunt around the boat for storage batteries. Then they sat down and stared at each other.”

“Then Hubbard connected the coil to the motor again and the boat made another trip around the lake. The motor was evidently too small for the coil for the wires connecting the two got hot and to be disconnected occasionally and allowed to cool off.”

Hubbard with Coil

“After this Hubbard went up to Everett and put one of his coils in an automobile. The auto was a standard car with the engine left out and a motor, ordinary electric motor, in its place. The coil was small enough to go under the hood of the engine. The auto started off up a steep grade on a dirt road. It ran around the Everett streets. People stared and wondered. They are still wondering.”

“These things have been seen and done. What of the future? Will there be no more transmission lines running up and down the streets and country roads? Will all this legislation about power plant sites be for naught? Will each house have its own coil turning out its heat and light, running the sewing machine and vacuum cleaner and coffee percolator and churn and so on? Will large manufacturing establishments have large coils and no bills for coal or oil fuel and no pall of smoke coming in from their chimneys to burden the atmosphere?”

“Those are questions that are bothering the brains of those who have seen the coil work. What will be the price of copper if every one is trying to buy a coil at once? What about gasoline? Will John D. have a world organization on his hands for which he has no use? Will the coil bring cheap power to the farmer with running water pumped from the well to the barn and the house and for irrigation? Will it be cheaper to pump the rivers here and there than to build long irrigation ditches?”

Years later Hubbard confessed the true source of the energy for his coil. When another inventor produced a similar coil, the young scientist stepped forward and talked to The Seattle Post-Intelligencer. This is quoted from the Feb. 26, 1928 issue:

“In 1919 Hubbard represented the apparatus as being capable of extracting electrical energy directly from the air, but he admitted yesterday that this had been merely a subterfuge to protect his patent rights, and that, as a matter of fact, it had been a device for extracting electrical energy from radium, by means of a series of transformers which stepped up the rays. “

“He declined to go into detail in regard to the exact manner in which he managed to extract power from radium …”

Basically, he produced a sort of nuclear power battery. To this day the exact material he used is not known.

Hubbard’s subsequent career was one wild ride through the shadows. He sold most of the patent rights of his coil to the Radium Chemical Company. In 1929 he took out a patent for radioactive spark plugs, which were actually available on the market from Firestone in the early 1940s.

Hubbard’s path led to running booze in Seattle, which landed him an 18-month prison term. His scientific skills caught the eye of the Office of Strategic Services, and he became a government agent. He somehow became involved with gun-running which attracted the attention of Congress. In order to escape prosecution, he cooled off in Vancouver, B.C. for a few years.

In Canada he created a charter boat service and was a director for a uranium corporation. He became a millionaire but grew bored. In 1951 he discovered LSD and then dubbed himself “The Johnny Appleseed of Acid.” As would be expected, Hubbard’s exact role with any U.S. or Canadian government project is difficult to verify after 1951. When the crazy spiral stopped he was broke and living in a trailer park in Casa Grande, Arizona, definitely not a situation for him that was too good to be true. He died there Aug. 31, 1982.