Chapter 6: Wet Spring in Oregon

 

Jenny half-expected Mac to write. If he sent her a letter while he was still in the West, she might receive news from him soon. She went into Oregon City twice a week to check for mail, but nothing arrived.

Jenny and the Tanners made do in the weeks after Mac left. When she needed provisions, she bought on credit, like most of the emigrants did their first year in Oregon. She hadn’t used any of Mac’s gold coins yet. She hoped to scrape by on credit until harvest in the fall.

Dreary skies dumped rain almost daily during the latter half of March. Some days it even snowed. “Can’t git the blamed crops planted till the weather gits better,” Clarence Tanner complained.

Tanner had helped Mac clear the first fields for crops through the winter. They’d used Tanner’s mules and a plow Mac bought in Oregon City. Now it was time to plant spring wheat. With Mac gone, Tanner had only his young son Otis for help. Hatty Tanner worked with Jenny in the house and yard and helped their other neighbors as well.

“It’s time to git the wheat in the ground,” Tanner said. “But it’s too wet. And too early for vegetables. Leastways, it would be in the States. I ain’t got a clue what to do in this infernal rain.”

“We’ll plant when we can,” Jenny said. She had no idea what else to say.

Jenny wrote in her journal:

 

Saturday, April 1st—I feel so lost. I thought Mac would tell me how to farm before he returned to Boston. Even with Tanner’s help, I don’t know what to do. I suppose Mac was no farmer either, and I did watch Papa manage our land in Missouri. I will have to do the best I can.

Rain continued almost daily until mid-April. On Tuesday, April 11, the skies finally brightened and the air turned warm. With clear skies, Jenny’s mood lifted. Her survival—and William’s—was up to her. She’d vowed the autumn before, on the steep slopes of the Cascades with her newborn baby in her arms, to stay alive for her son.

On this fine spring morning, she believed she could not only survive but thrive in Oregon. With the help of friends, she would somehow manage. She’d keep the claim going—after all, it was Mac’s land, and she would maintain the farm in good condition to give back to him, if he ever returned.

In the meantime, it would be her home and William’s.

Taking advantage of the fine weather, Jenny bundled the baby into a sling, saddled Poulette, and rode to Esther’s cabin.

“There’s a Ladies Meeting in town tomorrow afternoon,” Esther said as they sat with their mending. William and Jonah crawled on the floor beside the women. “Won’t you go with me?”

“How did you hear about it?” Jenny asked.

“Mother Abercrombie,” Esther said, referring to her mother-in-law. “She’s become bosom friends with several of the prominent wives in town. Ever since Mr.—Captain—Abercrombie returned from leading the militia. He insists I call him ‘Captain’ now. Or ‘Father Abercrombie.’”

Samuel Abercrombie had vied to lead the wagon train to Oregon, but the other emigrants chose Mac instead. When a militia was formed to seek out the Cayuse Indians who killed the Whitmans, Abercrombie insisted on leading a unit. Jenny was surprised Mac volunteered to serve under Captain Abercrombie’s command—the two men had not had a liking for each other along the trail.

“Won’t you be uncomfortable riding in a wagon, then sitting in a meeting?” Jenny asked Esther. “Your time is so near.”

Her friend laughed. “You endured worse on the trail. I have to keep Mother Abercrombie happy. Her other daughter-in-law Louisa can do no wrong, or so it seems. Won’t you come? It’ll be so tedious without you.”

“If Hatty can mind William, I will. What will you do with Jonah?”

Esther shrugged. “Ask Hatty to keep him, too, please.”

Hatty was willing to care for the babies, so on Wednesday, Jenny and Esther left in Jenny’s wagon, picked up Esther’s mother- and sister-in-law, and drove to Oregon City.

Before the Ladies Meeting turned to business, the women gossiped about families. “Mac went back East this year,” Jenny said. “Did anyone hear of him passing through town?”

“You’ve had no word of him?” one lady asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“No, ma’am.”

“It must be hard to have your husband away. He’ll be gone most of two years, won’t he?”

Jenny nodded. The absence of any news probably meant Mac left Oregon immediately, but she had no way of knowing for sure. He should have sent word, she fumed. Regardless how they parted, it wasn’t right for him to tell her nothing.

The purpose of the meeting was to gather clothes for the militia fighting the Cayuse. “Five hundred of our brave men are after the savages,” Mrs. Abercrombie announced. “Now that Captain Abercrombie’s company is home, we must support the new troops.”

“How will we find provisions for so many?” another woman asked, and the discussion droned on.

The battles were far up the Columbia River around Fort Walla Walla. Still, Jenny listened in trepidation, afraid the fighting would approach Oregon City and her cabin. She worried, even with the Tanners on the claim. Rampaging men were worse than panthers. She had felt safer when Mac was with her.

After she returned home and put William to bed, Jenny wrote:

 

Wednesday, April 12th—No one at the Ladies Meeting had news of Mac. I am grateful to have a home for William and myself. But only men can file land claims, so the farm is in Mac’s name. I wish he would write.

 

As she wrote, it occurred to Jenny she might not have a legal right to stay on the claim. Doc and Mrs. Tuller were the only ones who knew her plight. She would have to talk to Doc about the land.

Despite Jenny’s worry, the press of the planting season kept her from visiting Doc Tuller. The weather stayed warm, and Tanner planted all the cleared land. She and Hatty helped him as much as they could. He plowed, while the women and young Otis sowed behind him.

Jenny fried or boiled meat and baked bread in the mornings. She put William in a sling and carried food out to the fields at noon. While Hatty spelled her husband at the plow, Tanner ate. They kept the mules working from dawn until dusk.

Normal household chores did not stop while they sowed the last wheat and began on the corn. On the Monday after the Ladies Meeting, Jenny hung laundry outside in the sunshine to dry. She dragged the buffalo robe Mac had bought for her at Fort Laramie into the yard, then put William on it to play while she worked. The seven-month-old kept crawling off the robe, and she stopped to nudge him out of the dirt.

As Jenny paused to stretch her back, Esther’s eleven-year-old twin brothers ran into the yard. “Miz Jenny,” one boy cried. “Esther’s having her baby. She’s at our place. She was helping Pa with laundry. We need Miz Hatty.”

“Where’s Doc Tuller?” Jenny asked.

“Rachel went to get him.”

“Hatty,” Jenny called toward the barn. “It’s Esther’s time. She’s at Captain Pershing’s.”

Hatty rushed out of the barn, wiping her hands on her apron. “You be all right if I leave to help her?”

Jenny nodded. “I’ll fix dinner for Tanner and Otis, then bring William over after noon. You go now.”

“I’ll git Esther to her home, if there’s time,” Hatty said. “You stop at her place first, afore you head to her pa’s.”

When the wash had dried and the dinner dishes were put away, Jenny saddled her mare Poulette, bundled William into a sling across her chest, and set out on the mile ride to Esther and Daniel Abercrombie’s cabin. Their land shared a boundary with Jenny’s. Esther and Daniel had married at Independence Rock the summer before. And now Esther was having a baby.

Jenny urged Poulette into a trot. William had grown almost too big for the sling, but she couldn’t handle the mare with the baby loose on the saddle. So she wedged the sling between her belly and the saddle horn and clasped him tight.

She shouted when she arrived at Esther’s cabin. Daniel came out and helped Jenny and William down.

“I’ll put your mare in the barn,” he said.

“How’s Esther?” Jenny asked.

“Long time ahead yet, according to Mrs. Tuller.” A worried expression replaced Daniel’s usual smile.

“Where’s Doc?”

“Accident. Couple of men crushed by a falling tree.” Daniel shook his head. “Don’t know if he’ll get here.”

Jenny patted Daniel’s arm. “With Hatty and Mrs. Tuller here, Esther will be fine.” She tried to sound reassuring, but anything could happen during childbirth.

She entered the cabin, built just like her own—a single large room, with a loft over the back half. Esther lay on the bed in the corner, moaning as a contraction gripped her. Hatty bustled from fireplace to bed, carrying a pan of water and towels. Mrs. Tuller sat on a stool beside the bed, wiping Esther’s brow.

“How’s she doing?” Jenny whispered, fearful for her friend. Jenny’s labor with William had been hard. She would have died without Mac there to encourage her.

“Fine, fine,” the doctor’s wife said. “First babies take a long time. Like William.”

“Have you eaten?” Jenny asked Mrs. Tuller. She put William down in a corner with a toy. “Where’s Jonah?”

“I sent him home with the twins,” Mrs. Tuller said. “Rachel’s old enough to mind him for the night.” Rachel was Esther’s thirteen-year-old sister, and the oldest Pershing girl at home, now that Esther had married. Their mother had died along the trail to Oregon after giving birth to Jonah.

Mrs. Pershing had seemed strict and unfriendly toward Jenny at the time, but Jenny later realized Esther’s mother had mothered her, too. In fact, Mrs. Pershing had been a better mother than Jenny’s own had been. Jenny missed Mrs. Pershing almost as much as the Pershing family did.

Esther groaned with another contraction.

Jenny winced in sympathy. “I’ll make supper,” she said. She found flour and made flapjacks. She fed everyone and tried to keep William quiet, while Hatty and Mrs. Tuller attended Esther.

By twilight Esther’s moans had risen to wails. William fussed and rubbed his eyes. “You go on home, dear,” Mrs. Tuller told Jenny. “She’ll be at it for hours yet.”

“I’ll stay, Miz Jenny,” Hatty said. “If I ain’t home by morning, you come on back after breakfast.”

Jenny rode through the forest, tall evergreens blanketing the path in shadow despite the full moon. She startled at every snap of a tree branch and rustle of leaves, worried about being alone in the dark. A wild cat screamed in the night, and she feared it was the one that had prowled around her barn. The ride to her cabin seemed to take twice as long as during daylight. When she reached home she sighed in relief.

Tanner took the mare from her. “I built a fire for you,” he said. “All ready to light.”

Jenny smiled her thanks. “See you in the morning,” she said as she carried William inside.

 

Monday, April 17th—Esther’s child is coming. May she be as happy as I have been with William.

I still need to talk to Doc about the claim.

In the morning Jenny heard Tanner chopping wood and went outside. “Is Hatty back?” she asked.

“No, Miz Jenny.”

“Would you please saddle Poulette? I’ll ride to Esther’s after breakfast.”

She nursed William and fed him thin porridge, then fried bacon quickly and added a slice of bread and honey to plates for Tanner, Otis, and herself. After she washed dishes, she and William rode back to Esther’s claim.

As she slid off Poulette clutching William, she heard a newborn cry. She tethered Poulette to a post and hurried inside.

“It’s a girl,” Daniel said, grinning down at the bundle he cradled in his arms. “Born at dawn.”

“Did Doc make it here?” Jenny asked, hoping she could talk to him.

“Yes, but he and his wife left right after the baby came. Only Hatty’s here now,” Daniel said.

Jenny shifted William to her hip and peeked in the bundle Daniel held. “Look, William,” she said to her fussing son. The wide-eyed newborn sucked her fist. “What will you call her?” she asked Daniel.

“Cordelia,” Esther said from the bed. “After Ma.”

“How wonderful,” Jenny said. “Your mother would have loved her granddaughter.”

Esther’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m so happy,” she whispered when Jenny hugged her. “But I miss Ma so much.”