The Chief's Daughter in the Shadow of the City Named for Her Father

Laura B. Starr, of Seattle, has the following story in last Sunday’s San Francisco Chronicle:

Thirty-six years ago Chief Seattle, for whom the city of Seattle is named, lived across the inlet, so history tells us, on Bainbridge Isle, at Point Madison, at the great lodge known as the “Old Man House.” This peculiar nomenclature is explained by the fact that the Indians give to all inanimate objects sex. In the Chinook jargon there is no way of expressing the difference between male and female except by using the prefix “old man” or “old woman.” This house being large and strong was thought to resemble a great chief, so it was given a name which embodied that idea.

Princess Angeline, daughter of Chief Seattle, is still living and may be seen any fine day hobbling along the street or sitting flat upon the pavement in front of the market, after the fashion of the Indian women in this country. She carries about her none of the outward signs of nobility; no pomp, no pride; the beholder sees but a bent and wrinkled old woman, with a great mass of tangled hair wound about with a bright-colored bandana. She says she thinks she is about 60 years of age, and Dr. Maynard can remember when she was a young and handsome widow. Were it not for her piercing black eyes, which snap with as much fire as if she were but 16, one might easily imagine from her bent frame and parchment-like face that she had been born with the century. She is short of stature, broad-shouldered and walks half-doubled over; her face is square set in a frame of frowsy black hair, with few threads of gray in it. The Indians so seldom grow gray, and attain so great an age before they do, that there is a saying current among some of the tribes that “the white man is dead before the Indian is gray.”

This American princess wears a red and yellow dress, as short of skirt as those worn by the Boston women on rainy days. This, with a woolen shawl wound closely around her, constitutes her entire costume. She goes about from market to grocery, getting all the supplies she needs with never a “sou marquee” to pay, for no one will take old Angeline’s money.

Her husband, who died many years ago, was a half Skagit, half Cowichin Indian, chief of his tribe. His name was “Doknb bud.” Angeline’s name was “Kick-i-som-i-lo,” but ever since Dr. Maynard’s wife called her Angeline her Indian name has been lost sight of and she is known only by her Christian appellation.

A flight of rickety stairs leads down from the street to the door of the old “shack” which the daughter of Chief Seattle calls home. It is a rough cabin, eight by ten feet, with a roof of split cedar shakes. Over the lintel is nailed a horseshoe, and round about the place lie piles of driftwood, old buckets, tin cans, broken crockery, a mass of debris which is the accumulation of years. Similar “shacks” are huddled about so closely that there is scarcely passage room between. Dirt and clutter abounded, and the smell of fish was strong.

The door is ajar and we enter to find ourselves in one of the darkest, gloomiest, most comfortless places imaginable. Two bunks covered with faded blankets, a few pieces of broken crockery and smoky tinware were all the household utensils visible. Bags and confusion are everywhere. There is no window in the hut, light and air being gained by means of the door.

Here in this rude cabin, scarcely twice the size of the grave in which she will rest, lives Princess Angeline, with her grandson, Joe Foster, son of her daughter Betsy, who committed suicide. Her wants are few, and these supplied mainly by the old residents, who remember her services to the whites in the early days, when she rode through the wild forest one night to warn the little settlement against an impending attack of the Indians.

She understands English quite well and can speak it a little if she chooses, but she likes best to talk with those who speak Chinook. She looked pleased and laughed when she recognized a photograph of herself, and said, “That’s me.” There have been several attempts to inveigle old Angeline away from her home, but to no purpose. She refused to go around the world with George Francis Train as a counter advertisement for Seattle, when he was booming Tacoma, saying her father would turn over in his grave if she ran off with a crazy man. Evidently turning over in their graves is the worst thing that can happen to Indians after death.

Proprietors of dime museums have offered her considerable sums to travel with them, but she invariably refuses to leave her home, saying she wishes to live and die in Seattle and be buried among her “tillicums” (friends) whom she has known all her life. She enjoys visitors and being shown off as one of the lions of the city. With any one who can speak her language, she will talk for hours, repeating thrilling stories of early days and various incidents of her own life, with dramatic force and fervor.

That the citizens of the city of Seattle hold her and her father in sentimental regard is shown in many ways. Their souvenir spoons have a bust of the old chief on the end of the ladle. Within the bowl, which is a clam shell, is engraved the face of his daughter. Over the main entrance of one of the largest and handsomest business blocks in the city are two pedestals, upon which will be placed when the building is completed the graven images of Chief Seattle and the Princess Angeline.

Chief Seattle was at the head of a tribe which numbered from 500 to 700. His position was owing to the fact that his father was a prominent brave of the Suguamish tribe, while his mother belonged to the Duwamish. This gave him great influence in both tribes and made him a prominent factor among the early settlers. He was very kindly disposed toward the men who had braved the dangers of an unknown land and sea to find homes on the shores of Puget Sound, and his influence was invariably used in their favor when there was any trouble between them and the Indians. He shielded and protected them in many a danger, and for this he and his daughter, Princess Angeline, who is still living in Seattle, have been held always in great esteem by the old settlers.

He traveled up and down the Sound a great deal, making his headquarters at the “Old Man House,” but staying often at Olympia. It was here that he met Dr. Maynard, one of the first settlers, and made him a present of his granddaughter, Betsy. A few years later she married a dissolute white man, who ill-treated her and finally deserted her and her child. Not long after the settlement of Seattle she committed suicide by hanging.

Seattle had two sons, handsome, fine-looking fellows, both of whom died of consumption in early life, long before the old chief bade adieu to this world. A superstition prevails among the Indians that when one of their number dies his name is not to be spoken aloud for five years; should he be a chief and of some importance silence is preserved for ten years. Then the embargo is removed and his name given to his son. Every time this law is violated and the name of a dead chief spoken the Indians believe he turns in his grave.

When it was decided to call the new town Seattle the old chief was in great distress, for he did not much fancy the prospect of being a perpetual motion machine when he should have departed this life. He took his whole family and went to Olympia to visit Governor Stevens and make a vigorous protest. The governor had considerable trouble in convincing him that his last sleep would be undisturbed, but he succeeded finally, and the old chief returned home proud of the honor bestowed upon him.

In person Seattle was short and heavy, weighing about 180 pounds. He was round-shouldered, and by some it was fancied that he resembled in features Senator Benton of Missouri. His face was refined and benevolent, but not particularly strong. He died in 1866 at about the age of 80. He professed to remember Vancouver, which might have been the case as he must have been a boy of from 6 to 10 years of age when the great navigator visited Puget Sound.

He was neat in dress, wearing a shirt, pantaloons, coat and often a blanket, with a high peaked hat of native manufacture. He became a Catholic in faith, and his grave is marked by a shaft inscribed with his name, the symbols of his faith, and a brief word indicating his services to the whites. This was raised but a few years since by the citizens of Seattle. His name, as pronounced by the Indians, was “Seaith.”