Blazing the Way; Or, True Stories, Songs and Sketches of Puget Sound

“In 1871 Mr. Denny built another homestead of the D. T. Denny family at this place. It was, after its completion, one of the most commodious and important houses in the city. This house was built overlooking Lake Union, instead of the bay. The site selected was on what is now Dexter Avenue and Republican Street. This house still stands, a twelve or fourteen-room house, surrounded by orchard and grounds.”

BUILT A NEW HOME

“Mr. Denny lived at the Lake Union home until just after the big fire here in 1889, when he began the erection and completed a fine mansion on Queen Anne Avenue, with fine grounds, but he did not long have the pleasure of residing here. The unfortunate business enterprises in which he soon found himself engulfed, swept away his vast wealth, and ‘Honest Dave,’ as he had become familiarly to be known, was left without a place wherein to rest his head.”

These tributes also recite something of the story of his life:

“He was one of the original locators of donation claims on Elliott Bay, within the present limits of Seattle. The two Dennys, David and his brother, Arthur, now deceased; Dr. Maynard, Carson D. Boren and W. N. Bell, were the first locators of the land upon which the main portion of Seattle now rests. All of them, save Boren, have passed away, and Boren has not lived in Seattle for many years; so it may be said that David Denny was the last of the Seattle pioneers. Of his seventy-one years of life, fifty-two were passed on Puget Sound and fifty-one in the City of Seattle, in the upbuilding of which he bore a prominent part.

“With his original donation claim and lands subsequently acquired, Mr. Denny was for many years the heaviest property owner in actual acreage in Seattle. Most of his holdings had passed into the hands of others before his death. In his efforts to build up the city he engaged in the promotion of many large enterprises, and was carrying large liabilities, although well within the limit of his financial ability, when the panic of ten years ago rendered it impossible to realize upon any property of any value, and left equities in real property covered even by light mortgages, absolutely valueless. In that disastrous period he, among all Seattle’s citizens, was stricken the hardest blow, but he never lost the hope or the energy of the born pioneer, nor faith in the destinies of the city which he had helped to found. His name remains permanently affixed to many of the monuments of Seattle, and he will pass into history as one of the men who laid the foundations of one of the great cities of the world, and who did much in erecting the superstructure.

“In the enthusiasms of early life the ambitious men and women of America turn their faces toward ‘the setting sun’ and bravely assume the task of building homes in uninhabited places and transforming the wilderness into prosperous communities. Those who undertake such work are to be listed among God’s noblemen – for without such men little progress would be made in the development of any country.

“For more than a hundred years one of the interesting features of life in the United States is that connected with pioneering. The men and women of energy are usually possessed with an adventurous spirit which chafes under the fixed customs and inflexible conservatism of the older communities, and longs to take a hand in crowding the frontier toward the Pacific.

“The poet has said that only the brave start out West and only the strong success in getting there. Thus it is that those, who, more than a half century ago, elected to cross the American continent were from the bravest of the eastern or middle portion of the United States. Many who started turned back; others died by the wayside. Only the ‘strong’ reached their destination.

“Of this class was the small party which landed at Alki Point in the late summer of 1851 and began the task of building up a civilization where grew the gigantic forests and where roamed the dusky savage. Of that number was David T. Denny, the last survivor but one, C. D. Boren, of the seven men who composed the first white man’s party to camp on the shores of Elliott Bay.

“It requires some stretch of the imagination to view the surroundings that enveloped that band of hardy pioneers and to comprehend the magnitude of the task that towered before them. It was no place for the weak or faint-hearted. There was work to do – and no one shirked.

“Since then more than fifty years have come and gone, and from the humble beginnings made by David T. Denny and the others has grown a community that is the metropolis of the Pacific Northwest and which, a few years hence, will be the metropolis of the entire Pacific Coast. That this has been the product of these initial efforts is due in a large measure to the energy, the example, the business integrity and public spirit of him whose demise is now mourned as that of the last but one of the male survivors of that little party of pioneers of 1851.

“The history of any community can be told in the biographies of a few of the leading men connected with its affairs. The history of Seattle can be told by writing a complete biography of David T. Denny. He was among the first to recognize that here was an eligible site for a great city. He located a piece of land with this object in view and steadfastly he clung to his purpose. When a public enterprise was to be planned that would redound to the growth and prestige of Seattle he was at the front, pledging his credit and contributing of his means.

“Then came a time in the growth of cities on the Pacific Coast when the spirit of speculation appeared to drive men mad. Great schemes were laid and great enterprises planned. Some of them were substantial; some of them were not. With a disposition to do anything honorable that would contribute to the glory of Seattle, David T. Denny threw himself into the maelstrom with all of his earthly possessions and took chances of increasing his already handsome fortune. Then came the panic of 1893 and Mr. Denny was among many other Seattle men who emerged from the cataclysm without a dollar.

“Subsequent years made successful the enterprise that proved the financial ruin of so many of Seattle’s wealthy, but it was too late for those who had borne the brunt of the battle. Others came in to reap where the pioneers had sown and the latter were too far along in years to again take up the struggle of accumulating a competence. His declining years were passed in the circle of loving friends who never failed to speak of him as the personification of honesty and integrity and one whose noble traits of character in this respect were worthy of all emulation.”

The following is an epitaph written for his tomb:

“David Thomas Denny, Born March 17th, 1832, Died Nov. 25th, 1903. The first of the name to reach Puget Sound, landing at Duwampsh Head, Sept. 25th, 1851. A great pioneer from whose active and worthy life succeeding generations will reap countless benefits.”

“He giveth his beloved sleep.”

The early days of the State, or rather, Territory, of Washington produced a distinct type of great men, one of whom was David Thomas Denny.

Had Washington a poet to tell of the achievements of her heroic founders and builders a considerable epic would be devoted to the remarkable career and character of this noble man.

At the risk of repetition I append this slight recapitulation:

The first of the name to set foot on Puget Sound, Oregon Territory, September 25th, 1851, he then evinced the characteristics more fully developed in after years.

He had crossed the plains and then from Portland proceeded to Puget Sound by the old Hudson Bay trail. He landed at Duwampsh Head where now is West Seattle, and there met and shook hands with Chief Sealth, or old Seattle as the whites called him. He helped to build the first cabin home at Alki Point. He alone was the Committee of Reception when the notable party landed from the “Exact.” He ran the race of the bravest of the brave pioneers.

Beginning at the very bottom of the ladder, he worked with his hands, as did the others, at every sort of work to be found in a country entirely unimproved.

A ready axman, a very Nimrod, a natural linguist, he began the attack on the mighty forest, he slew wild animals and birds for food, he made friends with the native tribes.

He builded, planted, harvested, helped to found schools, churches, government and civilized society. Always and everywhere he embodied and upheld scriptural morality and temperance.

Many now living could testify to his untiring service to the stranded newcomers. Employment, money, credit, hospitality, time, advice, he gave freely to help and encourage the settlers following the pioneers.

He was Probate Judge, County Treasurer, City Councilman, Regent of the University, School Director for twelve years, etc., etc. He administered a number of estates with extreme care and faithfulness.

David T. Denny early realized that Seattle was a strategic site for a great city and by thrifty investments in wild land prepared for settlements sure to come.

After long years of patient toil, upright dealing and wise management, he began to accumulate until his property was worth a fortune.

With increasing wealth his generosity increased and he gave liberally to carry on all the institutions of a civilized community.

David T. Denny gave “Denny Park” to the City of Seattle.

Denny school was named for him, as is perfectly well known to many persons.

As prosperity increased he became more active in building the city and lavished energy, toil, property and money, installing public enterprises and utilities, such as water supply, electric lights, a large sawmill, banks, street railways, laying off additions to the city, grading and improvements, etc., etc.

Then came 1893, the black year of trade. Thousands lost all they possessed. David T. Denny suffered a martyrdom of disappointment, humiliation, calumny, extreme and undeserved reproach from those who crammed themselves with securities, following the great money panic in which his immense holdings passed into the hands of others.

He was a soldier of the Indian war and was on guard near the door of Fort Decatur when the memorable attack took place on January 26th, 1856. The fort was built of timbers hewn by D. T. Denny and two others, taken from his donation claim. These timbers were brought to Seattle, then a little settlement of about three hundred people. There he helped to build the fort.

Many persons have expressed a desire to see a fitting memorial erected to the memory of Seattle’s “Fairy Prince,” Founder and Defender, David Thomas Denny.

I feel the inadequacy of these fragmentary glimpses of the busy life of this well known pioneer. I have not made a set arrangement of the material as I wished to preserve the testimony of others, hence there appear some repetitions; an accurate and intimate biography may come in the future.

Logically, his long, active, useful life in the Northwest, might be divided into epochs on this wise:

1st. The log cabin and “claim” era, in which, within my own memory, he was seen toiling early and late, felling the forest giants, cultivating the soil, superintending Indian workers and bringing in game, killed with his rifle.

2nd. The farm-home era, when he built a substantial house on his part of the donation claim, near the south end of Lake Union, obtained cattle (famous Jersey stock of California), horses, etc. The home then achieved by himself and his equally busy wife, was one to be desired, surrounded as it was by beautiful flowers, orchards, wide meadows and pastures, and outside these, the far-spreading primeval forest.

3rd. Town-building. The west end of the claim, belonging to Louisa Denny, was first platted; other plats followed, as may be seen by reference to Seattle records. Commercial opportunities loomed large and he entered upon many promising enterprises. All these flourished for a time.

4th. 1893. The failure of Baring Bros., as he told me repeatedly, began it – theirs being the result of having taken bonds of the Argentine Republic, and a revolution happening along, $100,000,000.00 went by the board; a sizable failure.

Partly on account of this and partly on account of the vast advantage of the lender over the borrower, and partly through the vast anxiety of those who held his securities, they were able to distribute among themselves his hard-earned fortune.

“A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment and wounded him and departed leaving him half dead.”

The Deficiency Judgment also loomed large and frequent and his last days were disturbed by those who still pressed their greedy claims, even following after his death, with a false, unjust and monstrous sale of the cemetery in which he lies buried!

But he is with the just men made perfect.

Law, custom and business methods have permitted, from time immemorial, gross injustice to debtors; formerly they were imprisoned; a man might speedily pay his debts, if in prison!

The Deficiency Judgment and renewal of the same gives opportunity for greedy and unprincipled creditors to rob the debtor. There should be a law compelling the return of the surplus. When one class of people make many times their money out of the misfortunes of others, there is manifestly great inequality.

The principles of some are to grab all they can, “skin” all they can, and follow up all they can even to the graveyard.

“THESE THINGS OUGHT NOT SO TO BE.”

5th. In the end he laid down all earthly things, and in spite of grief and suffering, showed a clear perception and grasp of justice, mercy and truth.

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST WEDDING ON ELLIOTT BAY

Concerning this notable occurrence many interesting incidents were recorded by an interviewer who obtained the same from the lips of David Thomas Denny.

“On January 23rd, 1895, Mr. and Mrs. David T. Denny celebrated their forty-second wedding anniversary – and the anniversary of the first wedding in Seattle – in their home at ‘Decatur Terrace’ (512 Temperance Street), Seattle, with a gathering of children, grandchildren, relatives and friends that represented four distinctive generations.

“One of the notable features of the evening was the large gathering of pioneers who collectively represented more years of residence in Seattle than ever were found together before.

“What added interest to the occasion was the historical fact that Mr. and Mrs. Denny were the first couple married in Seattle, and the transition from the small, uncouth log cabin, built forty-three years ago by the sturdy young pioneer for his bride, to the present beautiful residence with all its modern convenience in which the respected couple are enjoying the fruits of a well spent life, was the subject of many congratulations from the friends of the honored host and hostess who remembered their early trials and tribulations. All present were more or less connected with the history of Seattle, all knew one another’s history, and with their children and grandchildren the gathering, unconventional in every respect, with the two-year-old baby romping in the arms of the octogenarian, presented a colossal, happy family reunion.

“The old pioneer days were not forgotten, and one corner of the reception room was made to represent the interior of a cabin, lined with newspapers, decorated with gun, bullet pouch and powder horn and measure, a calico sunbonnet, straw hat and hunting shirt.

“A table was set to represent one in the early fifties, namely, two boards across two boxes, for a table, a smoked salmon, a tin plate full of boiled potatoes, some sea biscuits and a few large clams. Such a meal, when it was had, was supposed to be a feast.

“Many other relics were in sight; a thirty-two pound solid shot, fired by the sloop-of-war Decatur among the Indians during the uprising; a ten-pound shot belonging to Dr. Maynard’s cannon; a pair of enormous elk’s horns belonging to a six hundred and thirty-pound elk killed by Mr. D. T. Denny, September 7th, 1869, in the woods north west of Green Lake; the first Bible of the family from which the eldest daughter, Miss Emily Inez, learned her letters; an old-fashioned Indian halibut hook, an ingenious contrivance; an old family Bible, once the property of the father of David T. Denny, bearing the following inscription on the inside cover:

“The property of J. Denny,

Purchased of J. Strange,

August the 15th, 1829,

Price 62-1/2 cents.

Putnam County, Indiana.”

“Also a number of daguerreotypes of Mr. and Mrs. D. T. Denny in the early years of their married life, taken in the fifties, and one of W. G. Latimer and his sister.

“All these and many more afforded food for conversation and reminiscences on the part of the old pioneers present.

“An informal programme introduced the social intercourse of the evening. Harold Denny, a grandson of the hosts and son of Mr. John B. Denny, made an address to his grandparents, giving them the greeting of the assembly in these words:

“‘O fortunate, O happy day,’The people sing, the people say,The bride and bridegroom, pioneers,Crowned now with good and gracious yearsSerenely smile upon the scene.The growing state they helped to foundUnto their praise shall yet redound.O may they see a green old age,With every leaf a written pageOf joy and peace from day to day.In good, new times not far awayMay people sing and people say,‘Heaven bless their coming years;Honor the noble Pioneers.’

“The chief diversion was afforded by the sudden entrance of a band of sixteen young men and women gorgeously dressed as Indians, preceded by a runner who announced their approach. They were headed by Capt. D. T. Davies who acted as chief. The band marched in true Indian file, formed a circle and sat down on the floor with their ‘tamanuse’ boards upon which they beat the old time music and sang their Indian songs. After an impressive hush, the chief addressed their white chief, Denny, in the Chinook language, wishing Mr. and Mrs. Denny many returns of the auspicious occasion.

“Mr. Denny, who is an adept in the Indian languages, replied in the same tongue, thanking his dark brethren for their good intentions and speaking of the happy relations that always existed between the whites and the Indians until bad white men and whisky turned the minds and brains of the Indians. The council then broke up and took their departure.

“The marriage certificate of Mr. and Mrs. Denny is written on heavy blue paper and has been so carefully preserved that, beyond the slight fading of the ink, it is as perfect as when first given in the dense forests on the shores of Elliott Bay. It reads as follows:

“‘This may certify that David Denny and Louisa Boren were joined in marriage at the residence of Arthur A. Denny in the County of King and Territory of Oregon, by me in the presence of A. A. Denny and wife and others, on this 23rd day of January, 1853. D. S. Maynard, J. P.’

“Another historical event, apropos right here, was the death and burial of D. S. Maynard early in 1873.

“The funeral services were conducted March 15, 1873, by Rev. John F. Damon in Yesler’s pavilion, then located at what is now Cherry and Front Streets. The funeral was under the auspices of St. John’s lodge, of which Dr. Maynard was a member. The remains were escorted to what is now Denny Park – the gift to the city, of Mr. David T. Denny – and the casket was deposited and kept in the tool house of that place until the trail could be cut to the new Masonic – now Lake View – cemetery. Maynard’s body was the first interred there.

“Miss Louisa Boren, who married Mr. David T. Denny, was the younger sister of A. A. Denny’s wife and came across the plains with the Denny’s in 1851.

“The house of A. A. Denny, in which the marriage took place, was located near the foot of what is now Bell Street, and was the first cabin built by A. A. Denny when he moved over from Alki Point. Seattle was then a dense forest down to the water’s edge, and had at that time, in the spring of 1852, only three cabins, namely: C. D. Boren’s, the bride’s brother; W. N. Bell’s and A. A. Denny’s. Boren’s stood where now stands the Merchant’s National Bank, and Bell’s was near the foot of Battery Street.

“At first the forests were so dense that the only means of communication was along the beach at low tide; after three or four months, a trail was beaten between the three cabins. David lived with his brother, but he built himself a cabin previous to his marriage, near the foot of Denny Way, near and north of Bell’s house. To this lonely cabin in the woods, he took his bride and they lived there until August, 1853, eking out an existence like the other pioneers, chopping wood, cutting piles for shipment, living on anyhow, but always managing to have enough to eat, such as it was, with plenty of pure spring water.

“In August, of 1853, he built a cabin on the spot where now the Frye Block stands and they passed the winter of 1853 there.

“In the spring of 1854 he built another cabin further east on the donation claim, east of what is now Box Street, between Mercer and Republican, and they moved into it, remaining there until near the time of the Indian outbreak.

“Mr. Denny had acquired a knowledge of the various Indian dialects, and through this learned much of the threatened outbreak, and moved his family in time back to the house on the Frye Block site, which was also near the stockade or fort that stood at the foot of Cherry Street. During the greater part of the winter of 1855 the women in the settlement lived in the fort, and Mrs. Denny passed much of the time there.

“After the Indian trouble was over the Denny’s moved out again to their outside cabin. The Indians making the trouble were the Swunumpsh and the Klickitats, from east of the mountains; the Sound Indians, the Duwampsh and the Suquampsh, were friendly and helped the whites a great deal. Sealth or Seattle belonged to the Suquampsh tribe and his men gave the first warning of the approach of the hostile Indians.

“Mr. and Mrs. David T. Denny have had eight children, four daughters and four sons. One son died shortly after birth, and all the others grew to maturity, after which the father and mother were called to mourn the loss of two daughters. Two daughters and three sons survive, namely: Miss Emily Inez, Mrs. Abbie D. Lindsley, Mr. John B. Denny, Mr. D. Thomas Denny and Mr. Victor W. S. Denny.

“The sons are all married and nine out of ten grandchildren were present last evening to gladden the hearts of Grandpa and Grandma Denny. The absent members of the family group were Mrs. John B. Denny and daughter, in New York on a visit.

“‘People in these days of modern improvements and plenty know nothing of the hardships the pioneer of forty years ago had to undergo right here,’ said Mr. Denny.

“‘Nearly forty years of life in a dense forest surrounded by savages and wild beasts, with the hardest kind of work necessary in order to eke out an existence, was the lot of every man and woman here. It was a life of privation, inconveniences, anxieties, fears and dangers innumerable, and required physical and mental strength to live it out. Of course, we all had good health, for in twenty-four years’ time we only had a doctor four times. Our colony grew little by little, good men and bad men came in and by the time the Indians wanted to massacre us we had about three hundred white men, women and children. We got our provisions from ships that took our piles and then the Indians also furnished us with venison, potatoes, fish, clams and wild fowl. Flour, sugar and coffee we got from San Francisco. When we could get no flour, we made a shift to live on potatoes.’

“In speaking of cold weather, Mr. Denny recalled the year of 1852, when it was an open winter until March 3, but that night fourteen inches of snow fell and made it the coldest winter, all in that one month. The next severe winter was that of 1861-2, which was about the coldest on record. During those cold spells the pioneers kept warm cutting wood.

“The unique invitations sent out for this anniversary, consisted of a fringed piece of buck-skin stretched over the card and painted ’1851, Ankuti. 1895, Okoke Sun.’ They were well responded to, and every room in the large house was filled with interested guests, from the baby in arms to the white haired friend of the old people. Pioneers were plenty, and it is doubtful if there ever was a gathering in the City of Seattle that could aggregate so many years of residence in the Queen City of the West on the shores of Elliott Bay.