moments of relaxation and kindness, but neglect never wears a smile."
The particular injuries of which mention was made as arising from the condition of affairs were aside from the discomfort of uncertainty, of suspension of enterprise, and the inability of the colonial government to treat with the surrounding natives, who were every day becoming more aggressive, owing to the non-fulfilment of promises of payment for their lands. They could not tell when war would be upon them, and the coming of their friends to Oregon cut off. Their position with regard to criminals was equally embarrassing. They had no prison[1] and no money, nor means of punishing offences without returning to the branding-iron, cropping-knife, and whipping-post.
The conclusion of the whole matter was the usual reference to the donation of land which the settlers expected from congress, and which they insisted they had justly earned in the aid they had given the government in settling the vexed question of title. "We think we merit the respectful consideration of our government. It is with our country, whether she will hear us or not." With this parting note of warning the address concluded. It was the threat so often covertly, and sometimes openly, made, that loyal as were the settlers of Oregon, they were independent enough to disregard a government which had no care for them.
By common consent the subject of a delegate seems to have been avoided, for it was well known that no choice could be made wholly satisfactory to all parties; and since as yet they had no right to one, for any clique to insist on sending a man of their choice to represent the colony would only lead to protests and confusion. The memorial, after being circulated for
- ↑ The jail erected at Oregon City with funds from the estate of Ewing Young in 1844 was burned by an incendiary in August 1846. Or. Spectator, Sept. 3, 1846.
