The Jailbreak at the Lava-Beds
A woman held in a Seattle lockup executes a daring escape, shedding her clothes and fleeing toward the wilderness after outsmarting her captor.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A Chinook klootchman, who was causing considerable disturbance in the third ward last evening, was taken charge of by the watchman, Costello. The officer ventured to take her to the lockup. Thinking to avoid being taken through town, she endeavored to strip off all her clothes, and it was not until she had nearly reduced herself to a state of nature that the officer succeeded in stopping her little game and conveying her to the calaboose. This morning, when the meals were being taken to the prisoners, she secreted herself behind the door, and, when the officer’s back was turned, slipped out and broke for the lava-beds like a scared wolf.
“She secreted herself behind the door, and, when the officer’s back was turned, slipped out and broke for the lava-beds like a scared wolf.”
This story from 1876 highlights the often-violent reality of early Seattle policing and the agency of those subjected to it. 'Lava-beds' likely refers to the rugged, volcanic terrain then present in the region, serving as a reminder of the raw, unpaved geography that defined the city long before it was entirely built over.
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