Four Little Known Facts about Wallin Landing

As I prepare to say goodbye to Wallin Landing, the setting for my Frontier Bachelors series, I thought you might like to know a few secrets as about the town. Here then are little known facts about the setting:

1. It wasn’t originally intended to be. When I first started the Frontier Bachelors series, I had envisioned telling the stories of several of the Mercer Belles, those ladies from the East Coast who traveled west with Asa Mercer to civilize pioneer Seattle following the Civil War. But in the second book, Would-Be Wilderness Wife, I fell in love with the Wallin family and the little town they were trying to build on the shores of Lake Union. And so, what was originally planned to be a three-book series grew into an eight-book saga as each of the Wallin siblings met their match.

2. The stories about it span nearly a decade. So that I could plausibly write about the last three siblings, two of whom were in their teens in Would-Be Wilderness Wife, I had to expand the timeline as well. The books now span from January 1866 to April 1875. Seattle grew by leaps and bounds during that time. So did Wallin Landing.

3. The town grew with the books. If you’ve read the series, you’ve probably already noticed this one. With the advent of Frontier Matchmaker Bride, the little town has a post office (run by James Wallin), school (with Rina Wallin, his wife, teacher and Dottie Wallin, John’s wife, assistant), church (with Levi Wallin the minister), dispensary (run by Catherine Wallin, Drew’s wife), and general store (James again). Individuals serve the function of blacksmith (John Wallin), seamstress (Nora Wallin, Simon’s wife), music teacher (Callie Wallin, Levi’s wife), and medical professional (Catherine) besides farmer (Simon Wallin) and logger (Drew Wallin). Simon Wallin might even be called an architect of sorts. 

4. Wallin Landing isn’t Wallingford. There is a neighborhood in Seattle called Wallingford. It is actually the location Pa Wallin wanted to build his town originally. I picture the town of Wallin Landing in the Westlake/East Queen Anne area of the Seattle area instead, across the lake and to the west of Wallingford.

Finally, I’m getting lots of mail from readers asking whether I will return to Wallin Landing one day. I hope so. A certain family friend needs to find his happily-ever-after, and there’s Gillian Howard, Ciara and Aiden O’Rourke, Frisco and Sutter Murphy, and the Wallin children who will need spouses in a few years. However, my current publisher is ending its historical romance line, and other publishers are notoriously leery of taking on a series started elsewhere.

This industry has taught me to beware of saying “never.” Things changes, rights are reverted, readers clamor for more. Wallin Landing will be sitting on the shores of Lake Union, waiting.

And so will I.

Keeping a Promise

When you start writing a series for a traditional publisher, there’s no guarantee that you’ll be able to finish it. Tastes changes, priorities shift, lines fade away. Knowing that, I’m pleased that I will be able to finish my Frontier Bachelor series for Love Inspired, telling the stories of siblings John, Levi, and Beth Wallin in 1870s Seattle, beginning with Mail-Order Marriage Promise, releasing today.

Stunned that his sister ordered him a mail-order bride, John Wallin insists he’s not the husband Dottie Tyrrell needs. The scholarly logger knows Dottie will make the perfect wife—for some other man. Yet he’s compelled to invite the lovely widow and her infant son to stay with his family…but only until she can find her own way. 

Dreams of true love are for other women. Betrayed by her baby’s father, Dottie just wants a safe home for her precious child. But who could resist a man with John’s quiet strength? When her secret past brings danger to their door, they may yet find this mail-order mix-up to be the perfect mistake…

Here’s a little taste:

“I can’t deny that the wilderness holds dangers,” John told Dottie, pouring the milk into the steel can. “But my family has worked hard for nearly twenty years to tame the wilderness. If you look closer, you may find things to love about the area.” He set the pail on the floor. “Here, let me show you.”

He held out his hand. She looked at it as if the gesture was foreign to her. Then a shudder went through her. He refused to back down. He couldn’t see her going to sleep this worried.

He almost shouted a hallelujah when she slipped her fingers into his grip.

He led her through the house, pausing in the bedroom doorway to check on Peter, who had indeed fallen asleep, then out onto the porch. The velvet black of the night wrapped around them. He pointed up at the semicircle of stars. “See there?”

He could barely make her out in the darkness, but he saw her shadow move as she must have looked up. “The stars?” she asked.

“Exactly.” He leaned closer, caught that sweet apricot scent. “See that long dip down and across? That’s Ursa Major, the great bear.”

He heard the smile in her voice. “Peter would like that.”

“You might like this one better. See that M shape? That’s Cassiopeia, the queen.”

She must have turned her head to look at him, for he felt her breath brush his ear. “Where did you learn that?”

“I read about it in a book.” He felt a little self-conscious admitting it. Men were supposed to go out and discover things, not sit at home and read about them. “Catherine’s friend Allegra Banks Howard loaned it to me. It had the latest scientific theories about stars and galaxies. Do you know Earth is only one planet among a group of planets, and that group is only one of perhaps millions out there in space?”

“My word.” She sounded as awed as he’d felt when he’d read the book.

“Those stars look like tiny pricks of light to us, but they’re as big, or bigger, than the sun. We’re the ones who are tiny, in the scheme of things.”

“I feel that way sometimes,” she murmured, and he thought she was looking up again.

“But they’re so far away,” John told her. “There’s nothing there to harm us. Now, listen.”

She stilled beside him.

“Do you hear that shush-shush sound? That’s the waves on Lake Union.”

She nodded, and a curl caressed his cheek. “I didn’t know a lake could have waves.”

“I understand larger ones do. Lake Union isn’t that large, but the breeze from the Sound encourages the water to move. Now, take a deep breath.”

She inhaled.

“What do you smell?” he asked.

“Something dry and flowery, and just a touch of brine.”

“The pungent flowery scent is the cedar not far from the house. It’s a massive thing, probably been growing more than a hundred years. I didn’t have the heart to cut it down. I’ll show it to you and Peter. And the touch of brine is Puget Sound, beyond the hill behind us. To me, this is the smell of home.”

She drew in another breath as if she wanted to sense it, too.

He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her to look down toward the main clearing. “Now, see those lights? That’s Drew and Catherine, James and Rina, Beth, Harry, Tom and Dickie. You shout loud enough, and every one of them will come running to help you.” He turned her back to face him. “And so will I.”

“Will you?” Her voice begged him for the truth.

“Always,” John promised. “You’re safe here at Wallin Landing, Dottie.”

He felt her trembling in his grip. He only wanted to assure her that nothing could hurt her, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her. It seemed only right to lower his head and kiss her.

As he’d expected, her lips were soft and sweet, and something rose inside him, demanding that he protect her, cherish her, take the risk that she could be the one for him.

He’d meant to comfort her, lessen her fears. Why was he the one who was suddenly afraid?

You can find Mail-Order Marriage Promise at fine online retailers and bookstores near you:

Harlequin   

Amazon  

Barnes and Noble 

Kobo  

iBooks 

An independent bookstore near you 

The Book Depository, free shipping worldwide 

Little Big(elow) House

I've said it before: my side of the country has less Anglo history than Marissa's. So I'm always tickled when I get to step back in time earlier than 1900. A few months ago, I had the privilege of visiting Bigelow House in our state’s capitol of Olympia. Built in the 1850s, Bigelow House is oldest house in that city, and one of the earliest still in existence in the Puget Sound area. It was the original home of lawyer and legislator Daniel R. Bigelow and his wife Ann Elizabeth White. The Bigelows were dedicated packrats. Nothing that didn’t have to be thrown out was. And that leaves us with a veritable treasure-trove of items dating to the earliest days of the territory.

Our charming docent Kristin shared a number of stories as she led us through the collection. One of my favorites involved Ann Elizabeth. She came to the Northwest with her family via wagon train on the Oregon Trail. Along the way, they spotted many graves of cholera victims. Finally, they came across a woman who’d been abandoned by her party to die of the disease. Ann Elizabeth’s family felt it wasn’t right to leave her alone to die. They left Ann Elizabeth instead, with a horse and a rifle. Ann Elizabeth was a teen at the time. She stayed with the woman until she passed away, buried her, then rode to catch up with her family, crossing miles of territory. Now, that’s a nineteenth century heroine!

Given that kind of gumption, it didn’t surprise me that Ann Elizabeth became a schoolteacher when she was seventeen, walking miles to teach her handful of students each day before returning home to her family. Docent Kristin is holding her school bell. She married Daniel when she was eighteen. He was already an influential member of territory at the time. He joined her in becoming an ardent supporter of women’s rights, hosting Susan B. Anthony for dinner when she came through on crusade (the chair at the top is where she allegedly while at the Bigelows’).  He went so far as to introduce legislation that would have given Washington women the vote decades before the rest of the nation. Sadly, it didn’t pass.

It was at Bigelow House that I saw something unexpected. Marissa and I have talked about mourning jewelry used in the nineteenth century. Often times a piece of the deceased’s hair was woven into a broach or put inside a locket. This is something different. This watch chain is woven entirely of human hair, a gift from Ann Elizabeth to Daniel, while she was still living. Waste not, want not!

Many pictures of Bigelow House are copyrighted, but you can see the exterior and some of the interior in this video:

It’s a little house with a lot of history behind it! And I appreciate that!

Pioneer Legends: Charles Terry

In Instant Frontier Family, heroine Maddie O’Rourke has reason to doubt the character of the rival bakery owner in Seattle, Charles Terry. But Maddie may have judged too harshly. In fact, according to early historian Clarence Bagley, “Charles C. Terry was recognized as one of the most honorable men and trusted citizens that Seattle has ever known.”

If one word sums up Terry, it would be entrepreneur. He left his home town of Waterville, New York, at age 19 for the California Gold Rush. But the gold must not have been enough for this enterprising young man, for he headed north when he was 21 and met up with the second half of the Denny party, among the first settlers to the Seattle area. Journeying to Washington Territory, he joined his brother Lee, who was already hard at work building the first cabins. Some sources credit Terry with naming their little establishment New York. But someone must have wanted to temper the enthusiasm, but the native word “Alki” to the name, meaning “by and by,” was appended to the name.

According to some chroniclers, Terry had already figured out from the Gold Rush that the path to fortune wasn’t in mining, but in outfitting miners. Accordingly, he set up a store in the new town, conveniently positioned to attract passing ships. He also opened his own sawmill for a time. When gold was discovered in the Fraser River, however, he was among those who rushed farther north for a time, although it is possible he was there to sell equipment, not pan for gold. Regardless, he did so well for himself, that he eventually sold his Alki property for land across the bay, in Seattle proper, as well as a farm on the Duwamish River.

In 1856, at age 26, he married one of the few unwed ladies in the area, Mary Jane Russell. They had five children together. He built her the finest residence in Washington Territory, a white house with brick-a-brack hanging from every eave. It once stood at the corner of Third and James and made Maddie O’Rourke dream of finding similar success. He opened the first bakery, built the first cracker mill. He was one of the first town trustees. And he generously offered land to make up the 10-acre tract required to attract the first Territorial University to Seattle, a school that would become the University of Washington.

Sadly, Terry died young, at only 37, approximately three months after the story ends in Instant Frontier Family. Very likely he had consumption (tuberculosis). He died one of the wealthiest men in the area, and clearly one of the most respected.

I’m sure Maddie would have been his friend long before then. 

Frontier Learning: Rules for the Teacher

My mother was a teacher. I dabbled with the idea of becoming one, until I realized the incredible dedication and discipline involved. I have nothing but respect for the men and women who instruct and guide the next generations. But when I was researching for my August book, Frontier Engagement, I was surprised to find that expectations for teachers have changed dramatically since the late 1800s. Then as now, schoolboards wanted the best for the community’s children. But what they considered “best” was rather interesting.

Teachers were expected to fill the lamps, make the fire in time for the children to be warm when they arrived, bring in water, scrub the floors, clean the blackboard, and wash the windows. After finishing their grueling days (as long as 10 hours), the teacher might return to quarters that could amount to no more than a single room. Rules generally frowned upon going out in the evenings, particularly to pool halls and ice cream parlors. Teachers could not smoke, dress in bright colors, or dye their hair.

Rules for men and women teachers also varied. While the Fort Worth pioneer school rules dating from the 1880s allow a man to take one evening a week for courting (two evenings if he attends church regularly), rules posted at the Pioneer Farm Museum’s school state that a female teacher is not allowed to spend time with men. Period. And if you married during the school term, you were summarily dismissed. On the other hand, Fort Worth warned a male teacher against getting shaved in a barber shop or he would “give good reason to suspect his worth, intention, integrity, and honesty.” They also advised that every teacher should save up from the miserly salary paid so that the teacher would not become a burden on society when retired.

Rather unconducive to a pleasant learning experience.

And speaking of learning, I can hardly wait to learn new things myself in the next couple weeks. Marissa and I will be heading to New York for the annual Romance Writers of America® conference. We’ll talk with editors and agents, catch up with old friends and meet new ones, and generally celebrate this crazy career we call writing. Look for posts from us when we can sneak away from all the fun er I mean business. And I’ll be sure to catch you up on July 31, when I return from spending a few days with Marissa and her family post-conference.

If you happen to be in New York City on July 22, stop by the Marriott Marquis in Times Square, where nearly 500 romance writers will be signing books. The event is open to the public, and all proceeds go to support literacy. Marissa and I will both be signing—come and say hi!

You might learn something.

Just Another Day at the Fort

First, congratulations to Emily W.  She was the only one brave enough to hazard a guess as to the physical models for my hero James and heroine Rina in the upcoming Frontier Engagement.  Yes, indeed, I had Ryan Gosling in mind for James.  I had to look long and hard to find the face of the woman in my head for Rina.  Britain’s Harrie Hayes fit the bill.  Emily W. e-mail me at reginascott@owt.com, and I’ll let you choose from my author stash. 

This past weekend I had the privilege of visiting Fort Nisqually, a living history museum located in Point Defiance Park in Tacoma, Washington.  While some of the buildings actually date from the mid-1800s, the fort is a recreation of one that was built near the Nisqually delta by the Hudson’s Bay Company before Washington was a territory.  Last weekend the Fort hosted a special event that focused on sowing (planting, harvesting, cooking) and sewing (needlework, clothing, textiles).  There were dozens of reenactors going about their day-to-day duties in period clothing dating from the 1850s.  Many had specialties, in cooking, in clothing, in bonnets, in gardening.  And they were all willing to answer endless questions from an absolutely fascinated romance writer.

So, what did I learn from my visit?

Pioneers in Washington Territory had no need for horse shoes.  This is one of those palm-to-forehead moments.  Of course the horses didn’t need shoes!  As the blacksmith so eloquently put it, the closest paved road was in San Francisco (and I’m not too sure there were many there!).

Camas plants with blue flowers are edible; camas plants with white flowers are poisonous.  I had read about camas, a plant prized by Native Americans for its pulpy potato-like bulb.  It has more protein per ounce than a steelhead.  I had never seen one until this trip, and then I discovered them growing in the nature preserve near my home!

Wild sweet William (soapwort or saponaria) can be used to create a much nicer soap than boiling fat and adding lye. It smells good, and it’s a lot easier on the skin.

The British settlers still imported much of what they needed from England, including panes of glass for windows.  The glass would come in barrels packed in molasses. A favored clerk was appointed to unpack the glass; he got to keep the molasses!

As you can probably tell, I highly recommend a visit to the Fort if you are in the area.  On May 16 the members will be celebrating Queen Victoria’s birthday.  August 8 and 9, there will be a live camp-in to recreate the historic visit of fur traders to the fort in 1855. You can learn more here. 

Hearing from a Hero: Drew Wallin from Would-Be Wilderness Wife

Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something about a broad-shouldered man, ready to take on the world and protect those he loves.  That’s Drew Wallin from my March release, Would-Be Wilderness Wife.  Drew has a lot on his hands, logging the massive trees around Seattle, managing his family’s wilderness farm, and improving his own claim along the shores of Lake Union.  But Drew’s driving goal is to see all of his younger brothers and sisters safely grown. He’s definitely the strong, silent type, and it takes a lot to get a rise out of him.  That’s why I enlisted his second brother, the dapper, witty James Wallin, to interview him for us.

James Wallin:  Well, you’ve finally done it this time, brother.  Gone and kidnapped yourself a bride.

Drew Wallin:  I didn’t kidnap her.  I went to Seattle trying to find medical help for Ma, and Doc Maynard couldn’t leave town. I didn’t plan on taking his nurse.  I knew what the rest of you would think.

James:  Of course!  We took one look at Catherine’s pretty face and heard wedding bells.  Better you than the rest of us.  I just bless Levi for having the brains to grab her when you wouldn’t.

Drew:  I wouldn’t call that brains.  More like stupidity.  Just be glad Catherine agreed to stay until Ma was well.

James:  Oh, I am. Even if she is the bossy sort.

Drew:  You call it bossy, I call it organization.  She herded us all into line.  We needed it.

James:  Speak for yourself. 

Drew, groaning:  Not again.

James:  Ha!  Just like when Simon tricked you into reading that poem with Catherine in front of us all.  You were playing John Alden, and she was playing Priscilla Mullins, and she asked you to speak for yourself in courting her.

Drew, smile playing about his mouth:  She turned so red when she’d realized what she’d said. 

James: And you wore that loopy grin for hours.  Scared the daylights out of the oxen.  What I don’t understand is why you don’t take her up on the offer.  She’s smart, organized, and pretty.  What more do you want, man?

Drew, smile fading:  I have enough to do trying to raise you all to take on a wife, particularly one who doesn’t know her way around the wilderness.

James:  In case you hadn’t noticed, Simon, John, and I are grown.  We don’t exactly need your tender care.

Drew:  And Levi?  Beth?  Should I just run off and leave them to fend for themselves?

James:  You won’t be far.  I can spit and hit your cabin from the main house.  You know what I think?  (Lowers his voice)  I think you’re scared.

Drew:  Terrified.  So, leave be, brother.  Besides, I don’t need to marry to carry on Pa’s name.  There are four more of you to do that.

James, raising his hands:  Don’t look at me!  I don’t intend to marry, ever.  Life’s too short to spend it worrying about the people you love.

Hm, sounds like both Wallin men need to find the right bride to help them see the beauty of love.  What do you think?

Warming Up the Wilderness

Would-Be Wilderness Wife, the second in my Frontier Bachelors series set around pioneer Seattle, was just released, and I couldn't be happier with the reception.

RT Book Reviews gave it 4.5 stars and a Top Pick for March. “Plenty of drama and a mystery that will keep readers turning pages.”

But I was truly humbled by the 5 star reviews from the delightful Britt Reads Fiction and the amazing Huntress Reviews.  Said the latter:  "The character of Catherine is a strong one. No simpering miss here! She is intelligent, brave, and knows what she wants. She is also wise enough to know when to bow to another's expertise; such as when a large cougar appears and she does not know how to shoot. Drew's character is a perfect match for Catherine. Family is very important to him. This gentleman is brave, skilled, and has much honor. I cannot express how great this story is, nor can I recommend it highly enough. Absolutely wonderful!"  

I hope you’ll agree.  Here’s a little taste:

He carried himself as proudly as a knight from the tales of King Arthur her father had read to her as a child. His rough-cut light brown hair brushed the top of the door jamb, his shoulders in the wrinkled blue cotton shirt reached either side. He took a step into the room, and she was certain she felt the floor tremble.

Finding her voice, she raised her chin. “I can help you.”

He walked down the narrow room toward her, the thud of his worn leather boots like the sound of a hammer on the planks of the floor. The blue apothecary bottles lined up on the shelves behind the counter chimed against one another as he passed. He was like a warrior approaching his leader, a soldier his commanding officer. Mrs. Witherspoon, waiting on a chair for the doctor to reset her shoulder, clutched her arm close, wide eyed. Others stared at him or quickly looked away.

He stopped beside Catherine and lay his fingers on the curved back of the chair where the elderly Mr. Jenkins snoozed while he waited for his monthly dose of medicine. Scars crossed the skin of the massive hand, white against the bronze.

Up close, Catherine could see that his face was more heart-shaped than oval, his unkempt hair drawing down in a peak over his forehead. His liberally lashed eyes were a mixture of clear green and blue, like the waves that lapped the Puget Sound shores. The gold of his skin said he worked outdoors; the wear on this clothes said he made little income from it.

He was easily the most healthy male she’d ever seen, so why did he need medical assistance?

“Are you a doctor?” he asked. Everything from the way he cocked his head to the slow cadence of the question spoke of his doubt.

Her spine stiffened, lifting her blue skirts off the floor and bringing her head level with his breastbone. She was used to the surprise, the doubts about her vocation here in Seattle. Even where she’d been raised, a few had questioned that the prominent physician George Stanway had trained his daughter to be a nurse. More had wondered why their beloved doctor and his promising son had felt it necessary to get themselves killed serving in the Union Army. At times, Catherine wondered the same thing.

“I’m a nurse,” she told their visitor, keeping her voice calm, professional. “I was trained by my father, a practicing physician, and served for a year at the New England Hospital for Women and Children. I came West with the Mercer expedition. Doctor Maynard was sufficiently pleased with my credentials to hire me to assist him and his wife.”

“So you’re a Mercer belle.” He straightened, towering over her. “I didn't come looking for a bride. I need a doctor.”

A Mercer belle. That, she knew from the newspapers back East, was synonymous with husband hunter. Obviously her credentials as a medical practitioner meant nothing to him.

Well, he might not have come to the hospital seeking a bride, but she hadn't come to Seattle after a husband either. She’d already refused three offers of marriage since arriving two weeks ago. Her friend, Madeleine O’Rourke, had turned away six. Even her friend Allegra had had to argue with two would-be suitors before she’d wed her childhood sweetheart, Clay Howard, a successful local businessman, only two days after landing.

None of them had left the East Coast expecting such attentions. When Seattle’s self-proclaimed emigration agent, Asa Mercer, had recruited her and nearly seventy other women to settle in Washington Territory, he’d talked of the jobs that needed filling, the culture they could bring to the fledgling community. Already some of her traveling companions were teaching schools in far-flung settlements. Others had taken jobs they had never dreamed of back home, including tending a lighthouse. They were innovative and industrious, just as Catherine had hoped she’d be when she’d journeyed west.

“I’m not interested in marriage either, sir,” she told him. “And I assure you, I am perfectly suited to deal with medical emergencies. Now, what’s the trouble?”

~~~

Would-Be Wilderness Wife is available from fine retailers such as

Love Inspired Historical at Harlequin  

Amazon  

Barnes and Noble  

Kobo  

iBooks

An independent bookstore near you   

The Book Depository (free shipping worldwide)  

City Girl, Country Girl, 1866 Style

As you can probably guess by the pictures we post, Marissa and I are rather fascinated with the clothing our heroes and heroines might have worn in the nineteenth century. So as I began plotting my Frontier Bachelor series, I eagerly perused fashion pages from magazines dating from 1865 and 1866.  Those wide skirts, so different from the styles of the early 1800s, left lots of room for embellishment.  Take these beauties, for example:

But as I turned to writing the scenes, I quickly realized that the full-skirted gowns so prevalent in the magazines were simply impossible in the situations my heroines faced.  For example, try wearing any of these when traversing the narrow byways of a sailing ship. 

And where in a frontier cabin would you fit any of these little ensembles?  I think you’d struggle to even get one through the door! 

Then there’s the sleeping arrangements.  Some cabins had nothing more than an iron ladder reaching up to the sleeping loft.  You’d knock over half the furnishings and give your companions quite a view.

So what did ladies wear on the frontier?  Things that were far more practical.  Like this.

And this.

As you can see, my fashion expectations had to change when my East Coast heroines ventured West.  But for those of you back East today, particularly if you’ll be in New York City on Monday, March 2, stop by Lady Jane's Salon, New York's only monthly romance fiction reading series, where Marissa will be reading from By Jove. The Salon meets 7-9 pm at the wonderfully atmospheric Madame X, 94 W Houston Street.  Click here for more info. 

Go West, Young . . . Woman? Part I

I’m about to take a major departure, crossing continents and time periods.  Instead of my beloved Regency England, the setting for my November book, The Bride Ship, will ultimately be frontier Seattle, just after the Civil War.  I guess you could say I heeded the call to “Go West, young woman.”

Newspaper editor Horace Greeley has been credited with at least popularizing the phrase, “Go West, young man,” a mantra that led a generation of gentlemen to cross the mountains to the other side of the country. But it was an enterprising young man from Seattle who first conceived of the idea of bringing young women west in large numbers to marry bachelors and help settle the frontier.

Asa Shinn Mercer was a young college graduate Illinois.  He had traveled west to join his brother, Thomas, in the fledgling Seattle.  He helped build the territorial university (now the University of Washington), then stayed on at its first president and only instructor.  It would have been a fine, respectable position for a young man, but for two things:  he had only one student old enough to actually graduate any time soon, and too few prospects for more.

You see, following the Civil War, men outnumbered women in Washington Territory by nearly nine to one.  There are stories about men paying young fathers for the rights to marry a baby daughter, once she reached marriageable age.  And the concept of marriageable age was questionable in some people’s minds.  One story goes that a young couple appeared before the Reverend Daniel Bagley, one of Seattle’s first ministers, begging to be wed.  Suspecting the young lady to be too young, he demanded to know her age. 

“I’m over 18,” she proudly proclaimed. 

Unwilling to call her a liar, he married them.  A short while later, her parents came pounding at his door, looking for their runaway daughter.  It seems the couple had stopped first at the home of the irrepressible Doc Maynard, one of Seattle’s most colorful founding fathers.  Maynard had advised the girl to write the number 18 on two pieces of paper, then stick them inside her shoes.  The thirteen-year-old was indeed standing “over 18” when she was married.

With women at such a premium, Mercer could see his vision of a prosperous future dimming.  So, he conceived of another vision.  The Civil War had left widows and orphans back East, young ladies with good educations, superior morals, and plenty of backbone.  All they needed was the knowledge of the need to come West.  He could provide that knowledge.  He could serve as Seattle’s Emigration Agent and bring home the brides.

Now, I will tell you, there are two schools of thought on Asa Mercer.  There is no doubt the citizens of Seattle applauded his initiative.  And after his first foray netted him about a dozen women, he was voted into the Washington State senate.  But other contemporary sources are less kind, particularly when Mercer decided to take his adventure to a grand scale.  He vowed to return to the East Coast and request a troop carrier from none other than President Lincoln, planning to bringing as many as 700 women to Seattle’s shores.  And what happened then, is beyond legend.

Next week:  Everything that can go wrong, does go wrong.