The Brutalization of Young David Morrison
A desperate plea for intervention as a young ward is subjected to unrelenting abuse by his guardian in King County.
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.
W. H. Barnes, a farmer residing on Porter's Prairie, King county, shot a neighbor named Eugene Forset Sunday evening under the following circumstances, as related by Mr. Forset: 'Last summer Mr. Barnes took a little orphan boy to raise named David Morrison, aged 12 years. At first he treated the child very well, but afterwards, when his wife's sister came, she would lay all her mischief on the boy, and Barnes would beat the child most unmercifully. I live a good ways off from Barnes, but I have often heard the boy's screams, and so have my neighbors, while Barnes was beating him. The neighbors talked to me about it, saying they were afraid Barnes would kill the child. I went and saw the Justice of the Peace, to see if the law could not afford the child protection, but he said nothing could be done. Sunday morning the boy came to my house and said that Barnes beat him all the time, and wanted to stop with me. I told him I had more children than I could well support of my own, but that if he and Barnes could not get along I thought a neighbor named Forset would keep him till he could get a place. He left my house and went over to Mr. Forset's. After a time Barnes came along and inquired for the boy. I told him what the child had said, and about hearing his screams. Barnes rallied: 'I have only tickled him so far, but when I get him home I'll lick him half to death.' Barnes then went over to Mr. Forset's, about a mile from my house. He was very angry, and my wife urged me to go over, as she feared he would kill the boy. I went. On his arrival there the boy refused to return with him, saying: 'You call me all sorts of bad names and beat me, and I won't go with you.' Mr. Barnes grew very angry and demanded of the boy to come, at the same time putting his hand on his revolver in his coat pocket and pointing it close to the boy's head. Barnes grew worse and worse, and fearing he would shoot the boy, I started toward an unloaded rifle hanging on the wall, when he shot me in the face, the ball entering my upper lip and coming out of my cheek. He then backed out, holding his drawn revolver on me. I came to town to have my wounds dressed, and I learned that he had come in ahead of me and given himself up, and that Judge Lyon had released him on $300 bail.'
“I have only tickled him so far, but when I get him home I'll lick him half to death.”
This 1886 report highlights the long, tragic history of failed child protective systems in the Pacific Northwest. Today, while reporting standards and state intervention have evolved, the struggle to identify and protect vulnerable children in rural areas remains a haunting parallel to Barnes's treatment of the young orphan in his care.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.