On the eve of the American Civil War, the United States and Great Britain nearly came to blows over a Berkshire pig. Known locally in Washington Territory as the Pig War, it actually is a story of how two countries, one powerful and the other just beginning to rise, came to settle their differences in a mutually agreed joint military occupation of a contested island in a contested international water boundary dispute. This is the backdrop to my historical novel, Mist-chi-mas: A Novel of Captivity.
From 1818 to 1846, the United States and Britain jointly occupied what was called Oregon Country, but British presence was the most prominent with the establishment of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s Fort Vancouver on the Columbia River in 1824, Fort Langley in present day Canada (1827) and Fort Victoria on Vancouver Island (1843).The HBC trading forts reflected England’s sphere of influence in the Pacific NW and abroad. 60% of HBC’s workforce were Hawaiians (Kanakas).
Then came the Oregon Trail in 1843 and the influx of Americans seeking new land. In 1846, the two countries signed the Oregon Treaty which defined the international boundary at the 49th parallel. While British interests were to be protected in what would become Washington Territory, it was assumed anything north of the 49th would be all British. The only problem was the water boundary between Vancouver Island and Washington was not defined. With both countries claiming the largest island, San Juan Island, there was no official law and order. When the Berkshire pig wandered off from HBC’s Bellevue Farm on the island into an American’s vegetable patch and was killed, passions rose between the few American settlers on the island and the locals over in Victoria. The Royal Navy and U.S. Army nearly came to blows, but pulled back into a standoff.
I’ll just skip all the excitement which went on for several weeks. President Buchanan and Queen Victoria were not amused. Eventually, the two countries made an agreement of joint military occupation of San Juan Island until a international arbitration council decided where the international water boundary would go. The Americans, under Captain George E. Pickett of Gettysburg fame, remained at their position at the southern end of the island. The British Royal Marines, after surveying several locations for encampment, chose a spot on Garrison Bay on the north. Both military camps with a complement of up to one hundred men fell into a twelve year, peaceful occupation.
And what a friendly occupation it was with horse races and Fourth of July celebrations at American Camp and parties at English Camp on Queen Victoria’s birthday. Issues of stealing, fights, smuggling and prostitution were handled cooperatively. The military presence was the only law and order there. In addition to Pickett, another famous officer was Corps of Engineers 2nd Lt.Henry Martyn Robert who got started on his Rules of Order after attending a meeting of American pioneers—so the local legend goes.
The occupation ended in November 25, 1872 when the international boundary was settled and the San Juan Island awarded to the United States. The Royal Marines left immediately.
Mist-chi-mas starts in the spring of 1860 when Englishwoman Jeannie Naughton arrives at newly formed English Camp. During her stay she nurses some smallpox victims in Kanaka Town where HBC Hawaiian families live. When the disease is past, she is invited to a dinner at Captain Pickett’s quarters at American Camp. It was great fun writing about him.
EXCERPT:
At six o’clock the color sergeant came over to escort the women to Captains George Pickett’s quarter’s next door where he personally greeted Jeannie and the Jenkins at the door. For the second time that day she mused that they were of the same height. With dark shoulder length hair, mustache and a long unruly goatee, he was only a little over five and half feet tall. What he lacked in height, however, she had already learned he made up in audacity, charm and a strong scent of Jamaican rum cologne. He offered her his arm and led her into the candlelit dining room.
Gathered around the table was a collection of men and women from the area. Pickett gave immediate introductions. There was a merchant from Port Townsend and his wife, Pickett’s second lieutenant, James W. Forsyth,two British naval officers from the Satellite,and Andrew Pierce from the little settlement of Seattle.
The men all rose as she was escorted to her seat. Their attention to her surprised her. The Jenkins ladies were treated with courtesy, but from Lucy’s pout not enough. Jeannie thanked Pickett and adjusted her crinoline and skirt. Against the royal naval officer next to her, her black bombazine outfit, dull as it was, she realized was striking. Maybe that was it.
“Now, Mrs. Naughton,” Captain Pickett said as he sat down. “Do tell us all about your time in Kanaka Town. It has concerned us all, considerin’ someone has left his earthly bounds.” He put his napkin in his lap and sipped water from the crystal glass at his place.
Jeannie glanced around. The table was set just a fine as the officer’s table at the English camp with a linen cloth and two silver candelabra. He gave her wink, but she pretended she did not notice.
“An act of bravery, I might add,” he went on. “Do tell.”
Jeannie wasn’t sure what account to give or whether it was proper subject for the dinner table, but they seemed anxious to know, so she told them of her days there. She was glad when Pickett helped to keep the inquiry way from the salacious and directed the dinner guests to a discussion of health in general. He sat at his place at the head of the candlelit table, his long hair curling at his jacket’s collar, like a country gentleman hosting his guests at his estate. Jeannie could understand why Mr. Brand said he was popular with both military camps and civilians.
But it soon became apparent that the women were not taken with her account, not only Mrs. Jenkins whose lips seemed to get acutely puckered as she went on, but the wife of the merchant from Port Townsend as well. Suddenly, Mrs. Marshall burst out that the whole affair was unseemly.
“Don’t you think, Mrs. Jenkins that a woman should be more particular in what she chooses to undertake?” Her rag curls banged against her neck.
“I do indeed. Don’t you Mr. Pierce?”
Andrew Pierce was mid-bite on an appetizer of oysters. He looked startled, then blushed at Jeannie sitting next to him. “You caught me off-guard, ma’dam. I’ll have to think on it.”
“I don’t’ believe that there is anything to think on,” said the captain of the Satellite. “Women served valiantly in our hospitals in the late Crimean War. Miss Nightingale for one. An extraordinary woman. Saved many a soldier’s life.”
Mrs. Jenkins and the other ladies shrank back when every military man agreed. The matter of Jeannie’s incautious adventure was settled and to her relief, it was in her favor. All the men agreed that containing the smallpox was imperative. It touched her deeply when they gave tender acknowledgement to her loss and the irony she could not help her son.
Dinner was served in full in the French style with all the dishes on the table and the serving plates assisted around. Pickett continued playing host, leading the conversation and letting them flow from local politics to news of the social season. Occasionally, he’d interject,
“Sir, ah believe that is the most interesting thing ah heard” or something to that effect. Jeannie found his accent hard to understand.
Sometime into the second hour, the conversation turned to more national topics, though Jeannie notice that by some unspoken agreement, they did not speak of the growing discord and talk of session back in the States she had heard from conversations in Victoria. Instead, the conversation settled on Pickett’s exploits in the late Mexican war. The British officers were interested in the tactics of General Winfield Scott. Pickett obliged them with an arrangement of salt cellars and candlesticks on the table.
—Mist-chi-mas: A Novel of Captivity
J. L. Oakley, June 4, 2018
