The Last Voyage of Arthur Phinney: A Fleet of Steamers Bids Farewell to a Pioneer

From The Intelligencer.

Yesterday saw a sight at Port Ludlow, unprecedented in the history of the Pacific Coast. We refer to the funeral of one late Arthur Phinney, of Port Ludlow, a gentleman of whom it might be truthfully said that "large was his bounty and his soul sincere." It was well that his own bark, the Forest Queen, was selected to bear this gentleman to his last resting place, though we should have preferred to have seen a monument erected over him at Port Ludlow—the scene of his struggles and triumphs. It was also good judgment that selected Sunday as the day of his funeral, so that working men who rest from toil on that day could pay a deserved tribute of respect to the memory of one who had proved himself on all occasions the workingman's true friend.

The steamer Annie Stewart, having been chartered by Eureka Lodge No. 20, F. and A.M., left here at 9 A.M., with 235 passengers on board, and scarcely had she got outside Sandy Point ere the Tacoma, Donald, Butler and Polkot'sky were seen in hot pursuit. As they neared Port Ludlow, the Phantom, Cyrus Walker, Yakima and Colfax also came along, till an uneven "manna" arrived at Ludlow wharf, within half an hour. The little town was draped in mourning, and festoons of black and white hung from the balconies of the cozy mansion where the Master of Ludlow was wont to entertain his visitors.

At two o'clock the bells began to toll, and the funeral cortege was seen marching from the Lodge room to the vacant home. Here, on the lawn before the door, lay the remains; the coffin being beautifully decorated with wreaths made by Mrs. T. A. Wright and Mrs. W. H. Taylor, of this city. On the head of the coffin was his photograph, appropriately choked with garlands, as his body was encased in spirits, and the great, noble heart was hidden for ever.

Even if death the good man was amid the flowers, and the birds in the trees above him were chanting his requiem. The half-finished vessel on the stocks, the hewn timbers for the incomplete mill, the ponderous machinery all and silent, told of the premature end of a great and useful life. Scores of sad-faced workingmen stood about the hotel and store, all listening in vain for the genial voice, and looking vainly for the tall form that was now but a clad in the valley.

A long procession of Masons, now increased to nearly one hundred and fifty, entered the gates. The Rev. J. F. Damon ascended the balcony of the house and offered a brief prayer, after which the Port Gamble Blue Club rang "Nearer My God to Thee." Then came his sermon, in which he dwelt on glowing tribute to the brave and genial gentleman whose life had been so prematurely terminated.

The body was lowered into a hollow wafer in the lake front (Chetco), where the Masonic rites were performed with becoming solemnity. The bark had cast off her lines and the friends and Masons were bidding her adieu. To one of the noblest of Pacific coast pioneers. The Tacoma had the bark in tow and ten other steamers were grouped as an escort about her, five on a side.

The steamers all accompanied the bark in the above order, as far as Ludlow Rocks, where each steamer passed under the bark's stern, dipped her colors and received the salute of the vessel in return. Then they returned to their several homes, after having given the greatest funeral ever seen outside of the Bulston and Broderick funerals in San Francisco. About 1,200 people were in attendance.

The following tribute of esteem to the departed gentleman was adopted by his brother Masons:

"The altars of Masonry are clothed in mourning for the death of one whom we dearly loved. God has called him more than friend, our brother Arthur Phinney across the river; while we bow to the decree, we sincerely mourn. Known to us for many years, not only in business relations and in the intimacy of the social circle; but as a brother of light, we feel that his death has left a void that can never be filled. Masonry has lost one of"