The seven-story building is the quarters of the Merchants National Bank of Seattle, which went under in 1895.

             The draft for my book, “The Panic of 1893,” was based on several thousand notes from historical sources, most of them newspaper stories. When I was done, I had a number of notes I liked and didn’t want to leave out — puzzle pieces that hadn’t fit in. I put them in the book’s introduction by making it an impressionistic essay about the 1890s. 

             My esteemed editor told me the book’s introduction ought to be about the book — to prepare the reader for what I was going to do in the book, and what conclusions I was going to draw. I reluctantly agreed that she was right, and replaced most of my impressionistic introduction with copy more prosaic, but more useful to the reader.

         Here is the original. I still like it. 

         In 1893 there were 44 states in the Union. Washington, which had become a state in 1889, had a population one-twentieth of today’s. Civilization was thinner and the land wilder. In Seattle, men could go duck hunting on Lake Union. It was a time of horse-drawn wagons and dirt roads. To go from Seattle to Tacoma, people took the train or one of the Puget Sound steamers.

         Children grew up sooner. In the King County schools, half the pupils in the sixth grade dropped out by the end of the seventh, and only one in four made it to graduation. Youth went to work earlier, married earlier, and started families — big families — earlier. A modern reader, reading of a bank president, might imagine him 50 or 60 years old; in the 1890s, he was as likely to be 30.

         Religion was big in civic life. Newspapers paid attention to what mainstream Protestant pastors said, and sometimes printed their sermons in the Monday paper.

         Males made up 62 percent of the state population and conducted virtually all business and public affairs. Women worked as stenographers, bookkeepers, cooks, waitresses, seamstresses, laundresses, nurses and schoolteachers. Married women worked at home, stoking coal stoves, baking bread, canning fruit, hand-washing laundry, stitching dresses, darning socks, mopping the floor and caring for children. If a housewife was well-off, she might have a Swedish girl as a servant. But times were changing: in 1894 a mill at Cosmopolis made the news by employing women to pack shingles. 

         Women would not win the vote in Washington general elections until 1910, but in 1890 a law gave them the vote in school elections. In 1894 the voters of Clallam County elected a woman, Ella Guptill, superintendent of schools. The man who lost sued, arguing that the job was not open to women, and the judge in the Clallam County Superior Court — a man, of course — gave the job to him. In 1896 the Washington Supreme Court — all men, again — gave the job back to her.

         Women had a few advantages. In the 1890s an unmarried woman could receive county welfare when a man could not. But in 1894, the Seattle P-I reported that Bertha Siegel, whose beau had married her in a shotgun wedding and deserted her, was turned down for welfare in Pierce County because she was married to an able-bodied man. 

         In the 1890s, Prostitution was tolerated but rarely named; the newspapers called it “the social evil.” The word “abortion” was rarely used. In July 1893 a physician in Spokane was charged with having performed “a criminal operation” on 14-year-old Georgie Bishop. There were other taboos. In April 1895, the Spokane Chronicle had four page-one stories, datelined London, of the accusations against Oscar Wilde of “various relations with boys and men” that amounted to “gross indecency,” without saying what the acts were. 

         There was no taboo against calmly expressed racism. Noting that 24 percent of people in Washington were foreign-born, the Spokane Chronicle reassured its readers that most of them were from Northern Europe. “Even including the 4,000 Chinamen,” it said, less than 3 percent of the people came from countries “experts have branded ‘undesirable’.” The Seattle Press-Times, the ancestor of today’s Seattle Times, called the Chinese “an alien and non-assimilative portion of our population, against whom a justifiable prejudice is entertained by our workmen.” At least Seattle had Chinese; since expelling them in 1885, Tacoma had fewer than could be counted on one hand.

         Nationally, lynching peaked in the early 1890s. During the 1880s and 1890s, Washington averaged about one lynching a year. No blacks were lynched in Washington in those years, though in 1895, 50 masked men at Walla Walla came in the night for a young white man who had been living openly with a colored woman, a brothel keeper, and had just married her. The mob tarred and feathered them.

         Life was less sanitary then. Downtown Seattle’s streets were planked.  The planks broke under the wagon wheels and sank into the mud and horse excrement. The Tacoma Ledger, describing the pedestrian “sloshing over rickety sidewalks and floating planks in the streets” asked its readers to imagine themselves “smirched with Seattle’s slime.” Most toilets were outhouses. Seattle’s Board of Health reported many cases of “unconnected sewers,” “overflowing cesspools” and “filthy privies.”

         In 1895 Seattle had 264 cases of scarlet fever, and the Board of Health closed the schools. In 1894 “consumption” — tuberculosis — killed 62 residents, and typhoid fever — a disease spread by sewage — killed another 19. Eighteen children under 5 died of diarrheal diseases. For that year the city reported 18 suicides, most commonly by gunshot or by drinking tincture of opium, which was available at the drugstore. 

         In the 1890s people were maimed or killed regularly in accidents involving horses and wagons, railroads, streetcars, electric wires, boats, swimming, logs, farm equipment, guns and wood-burning kitchen stoves. On June 14, 1893, the Seattle Telegraph reported four industrial injuries: a shingle worker with his thumb torn off, a lumber worker with the tip of a finger cut off, another with his thumb and finger cut off and a miner with his leg crushed between two ore cars. On Aug. 19, 1893, the Spokane Chronicle carried the story of the death of George Maxwell, 29, a worker at the Chattaroy lumber mill who was called to splice a loose belt. “His cotton blouse was unbuttoned and blew open as he ran across the basement and stooped down to pass under an iron shaft that whirls about 225 times a minute,” the paper reported. “The loose corner of the blouse caught on a coupling.” Co-workers heard a cry of terror and “a terrible noise of pounding on the floor.” The man’s neck was broken, his right arm was torn off and both his feet hung from his legs by half-severed tendons. In September 1895 a similar accident at an Everett shingle mill took off the left arm of a 13-year-old boy.

         In 1893 the Pacific Northwest still had a frontier economy, with wages, prices and interest rates higher than in the East. Most merchants did not bother with pennies, and the nickel was a new thing. A few years earlier, small purchases had been conducted in “bits” — “two bits, four bits, six bits, a dollar” — in which the change for a quarter on a one-bit purchase was a silver dime. Still, the “high” frontier prices of the 1890s seem impossibly low today. A shingle weaver earning $4 a day — a ten-hour day, six days a week — was making good money. In 1893 a pair of new shoes could be had for $3 and a pound of beef for a dime. In Tacoma, the Grand Central Hotel on Pacific Avenue ran an ad for rooms: $1, $1.25, $1.50 and $2, meals included. A separate dinner was 25 cents. For a rough equivalent in purchasing power to 2018 dollars, multiply the 1890s dollars by 25.

         For all these differences, the people of the 1890s thought of themselves as moderns no less than we do. Newspapers speculated about life on Mars. They ran stories about the new “living pictures” — movies — and about X-rays. On May 24, 1894, the editor of the Yakima Herald imagined “air ships” that might “travel at the rate of from one to two hundred miles an hour.”

         The Wright Brothers would fly their first airplane nine and a half years later.[i]

 

© 2016 Bruce Ramsey


[i]“Death in Cold Water,” Telegraph, Dec. 3, 1893, p. 8; “Schools of King County,” Telegraph,Aug. 26, 1894, p. 2; Compendium of the Eleventh Census, 1890, Part I, p. xxxviii; “Mill Run,” Puget Sound Lumberman, Feb. 1894, pp. 10-11; “Women Can Vote,” Ledger, Jan. 14, 1896, p. 4; “A Woman Can’t Hold Office,” Seattle P-I, Jan. 5, 1895, p. 1; “Women Are Eligible,”Seattle P-I,Jan. 4, 1896, p. 5; “Deserted by Her Husband and Father,” Seattle P-I, Jan. 20, 1894, p. 2; “A Spokane Physician Arrested,” Telegraph, July 7, 1893, p. 1; “Oscar’s Trial,” Chronicle, April 3, 1895, p. 1; “Crowded Court,” Chronicle, April 4, 1895, p. 1; “Tables Turned,” Chronicle, April 5, 1895, p. 1; “Back to Jail,” Chronicle, April 6, 1895, p. 1; “Lucky Washington,” Chronicle, Dec. 12, 1894, p. 2; “The Geary Act,” Seattle Press-Times, May 18, 1893, p. 4; “Tar and Feathers,” Seattle P-I, June 10, 1895, p. 2; Michael James Pfeifer, “Midnight Justice: Lynching and Law in the Pacific Northwest,”Pacific Northwest Quarterly, Spring 2003, pp. 83-87; “Paving in Seattle,” Ledger, March 12, 1894, p. 6; Seattle Board of Health, Annual Reportsfor 1894 and 1895; Telegraph,“Three Millmen Hurt,” June 14, 1893, p. 2; “Torn to Pieces,” Chronicle,Aug. 19, 1893, p. 1; “A Shocking Accident,” Everett Times,Sept. 25, 1895, p. 1; “A Cordial Welcome,” Chronicle, April 25, 1895, p. 2; “Miracles in Mars,” Seattle P-I,April 28, 1894, p. 4; “The Men of Mars,” Ledger, April 21, 1895, p. 11; “Miracles in Mars,” Seattle P-I,May 7, 1895, p. 4; “Wizard’s Latest,” Ledger, March 11, 1894, p. 5; “Radiant Heat Light,” Bellingham Bay Reveille,Jan. 31, 1896, p. 2; “Reveries of a Smoker,” Yakima Herald, May 24, 1894, p. 2.