George W. Bush’s place in American history
c.2004, 2005 Kathryn Judson
Have you heard about George W. Bush being run out of Oregon because he ran afoul of a pie-in-the-sky social engineering law? Undaunted, he and his faithful companions went to Washington instead.
Or, to be more precise, they went to what would become the state of Washington. This little story happened back in pioneer days.
It’s a true story, or at least it’s based on a true story. This particular George W. Bush really existed, and was one of the founding fathers of Washington state. His legend, on the other hand, has morphed into parallel stories, and that’s where it really gets fun.
This is a longer-than-usual post, by the way, adapted from a background report I wrote a while back for a book series I’m working on. You might want to get yourself a nice cup of tea before you settle down to read or else set this article aside for when you have more time.
In the fall of 1844 a small group of pioneers under the direction of Col. M.T. (Michael) Simmons arrived at Fort Vancouver, a British fort on the Columbia River near the end of the Oregon Trail. There they were told that Americans in the Willamette Valley had set up a provisional government. That was fine as far as it went, but this same provisional government had decided to prohibit free Negroes from living in the territory. And – here was the problem – one of Simmons’s party was a man by the name of George W. Bush, and Bush was a free mulatto with a white wife.
Well! Oregon in 1844 was having none of that!
Well, tough! Simmons and the others weren’t going to have any government tell them who they could have as a neighbor or as a friend. They decided that Bush was worth standing beside. So, what to do? It turned out that the provisional government’s authority extended only as far as the Columbia River. So, for starters, the group set up winter camp on the north side of the river, just out of reach of the government edict.
(No one seems to have recorded whether the little group thumbed their noses to the south from time to time. I would have, I think. But then again, I’m hardly heroic.)
In 1845, Simmons and his fellow Americans forged north to the British-dominated Puget Sound area.
The most popular versions of the story have the whole party going northward in the spring, with Mrs. Simmons giving birth to Christopher Columbus Simmons en route. The more likely version is that Col. Simmons went up alone, scouted out a good place, then went back for the others.
Whenever it was that they went, there was only a foot trail. They hacked down trees and otherwise did whatever it took to get wagons through.
They staked their claims and set up a new community originally named Newmarket or New Market, but later (and currently) called Tumwater. It is said that some of them went north long enough to make a point, and then went to the Willamette Valley anyway. But they stuck together when it mattered, at any rate.
The Treaty of 1846 moved the line between American and British territories to the 49th parallel, and the refugees were under American authority again. This time they prevailed. The government even passed a resolution confirming Bush’s land claim.
That not seeming sufficient, in 1855 Congress passed a special act to secure his title, at the request of the Washington Territorial Legislature. By 1855, you see, there were lots of people who were on board the Bush-deserves-our-support bandwagon, including several people of influence.
Historian Charles H. Carey, in his General History of Oregon (Third Edition, 1971, Binfords & Mort), describes Col. Simmons as “a Kentuckian of strong personality,” which perhaps translates at least in part to ‘not a guy who takes no for an answer’. Certainly he and others openly championed George Bush, and stuck to their guns.
But George Bush appears to be largely responsible for his own success. He and his wife Isabella (or Isabelle – accounts vary) set up a farm, and did well, and established a reputation for helping struggling newcomers.
I can just imagine the culture shock. A person drags himself clear across a continent, likely in large part to get away from the slavery and race issues causing bitterness and bloodshed back east, and is greeted by a mulatto who is prosperous, welcoming, and generous. Just when you think you’ve got your stereotypes lined up properly in a row…
Bully for the Bushes, by the way. Leading by example isn’t easy, but they seem to have been shining examples of both Christian charity and courage, not to mention love.
(Hark! Was that the sound of skittish leftists, clicking away at the mention of religious belief in a historical tale? Pity. The Bushes were reckoned as believers in their own day, and it would be a disservice to geld their views or their reputations now, I think, just to make the tale more manageable for persons who have no experience dealing with such things. I was raised in an agnostic household. Yet I can deal with Christians as human beings. Why can’t you? Some of them are very nice people. But I digress.)
Early versions of the legend tend to have Col. Simmons leading the party, Bush winning support by virtue of his virtues and his obvious humanity (ancestry be hanged), and everything turning out so well largely because this small, ragtag group of people made it happen. They were archetypal Americans. They took on the unknown, they fought government oppression, they outwitted their enemies, they kept at what they were doing until they won. They also went out of their way to help others, even strangers. They were just that kind of people. Like I said, model Americans.
These days, on the City of Tumwater’s website and in various articles, Bush has been promoted to co-leader of the wagon train and has become, instead of a mulatto, a person “of Black descent”. The Bushes, in some references, have become the “First Family of Washington”.
This new take on things cures some problems but runs the risk of becoming patronizing. It’s one thing to follow your leaders, another to make a sacrifice for some ordinary underdog who’s getting a bum deal. It’s one thing to be “of Black descent” in light of modern sensibilities, and another to be of mixed race in 1844.
However you look at it – as I found after several months nosing around in my spare time – the story is more complicated than partisans on either side could want.
For one thing, the 1844 law that excluded the Bush family from Oregon was never seriously enforced.
(In his book Eden Seekers, historian Malcolm Clark, Jr., said that he could only document two cases of exclusion. And one of those was clearly more a case of getting a bad character out of town than of race relations. Of course, Mr. Clark might have missed something, but still...)
Putting the law on the books appears, in large degree, to have been a wild bid to try to avoid the slavery dispute by sidestepping it – not to mention a calculated attempt to speed the process of being named a United States Territory.
Then there is something else that probably ought to be considered. If you want to take Clark’s view of it, the settlers were escapists at heart. Trying to leave behind problems that didn’t seem to have solutions was simply part of the dream. Of course they wanted the slavery issue to go away. Who didn’t? Let’s put the shoes on our own feet. How many moderns have moved to a new place just to get away from local arguments that never seem to stop? It happens.
And, to be fair to the early Oregonians, they didn’t invent this law. The provisional government lifted laws wholesale from existing legal codes, including this one. Amateur lawmakers transferring laws from whatever law books are on hand are bound to transfer some boners. This is not to excuse the exclusionary law, but to say that it was in the air at the time, and not just in Oregon.
For another thing, and for a new complication for people who want their legends to be easily cataloged, this hero is rather unique.
A little more digging shows that at the time of his westward trek Mr. George Washington Bush was a middle-aged, wealthy Quaker who probably knew what he was about.
His generosity was legendary. His prosperity was held almost in awe. There are stories about special floors built into his wagons to carry all his money west. He was said to be charming, handsome, a good singer (baritone, they say), and the sort of man who was good at keeping people’s spirits up. Bush Prairie, where he settled, was said to be a haven of civilization, even graciousness. There’s no pushing this man into a pigeonhole, much less making him stay there.
He reportedly inherited much of his wealth from his father, Matthew Bush, who hailed from India. It seems Matthew inherited most of his wealth from the British shipping merchant who brought him to America just before the American Revolution, and thereafter considered him part of the family.
On the other hand, chronicles indicate that not all of George W.’s wealth was handed down. The man knew how to work, and it sounds like he had brains, not to mention a feel for farming.
Matthew Bush married an Irish maid in the shipping merchant’s household, and she left her stamp on her son. Take most of the George W. Bush stories without reference to his skin color, and you have no trouble thinking of him as Irish. That’s when he’s not being an archetypal American, of course.
Some people, apparently beside themselves to have found a hero “of Black descent,” practically raise Bush to demigod status. On the other hand, it is said that he was human enough to bury his money on his farm and not tell anyone where, not even his wife. (Or so the story goes.) When he died suddenly in 1863, this caused a few problems. (Or so the story further goes.) Oh well, no one’s perfect, right?
He’s the classic American hero – bigger than life, but properly flawed and faced with troubles, the quietly defiant little guy getting the last laugh. The stories have outgrown the probabilities, but that’s all right. Folklore sometimes teaches what history misses.
There are stories of George W. Bush advising generals (General Jackson probably couldn’t have defeated the British at New Orleans without him, for instance). There are more stories about him generally saving people from east to west – with a few dramatic detours, such as getting wounded in the Black Hawk War and doing fur trapping along the Pacific before going home to be married.
Oh, yes, and we mustn’t forget that when an Indian war broke out around Tumwater, the Indians said that no one would be harmed on Bush’s farm. So, of course, he built a fort big enough to house his neighbors, and they rode the troubles out together.
(This adventure, at least, has some reliable eyewitnesses and some documentation.)
I tell you, this guy was remarkable. Think about it. Indians promise to not hurt anyone he takes under his wing? A newly formed Legislature, which could have been excused for placing priorities elsewhere, asks the U.S. Congress to pass a special act just for him? This is not just a case of wanting special legislation, it is a case of demanding it for a person not everyone back in Washington D.C. would likely see as a full person, deserving of respect.
I wish I could have met the man. What kind of man inspires that sort of respect? What is it that made others stick out their own necks for him? At first glance, it’s hard to imagine anyone merits that kind of fierce loyalty.
And yet, think some more. He’s got the sense to build a fort after thanking the Indians for the honor of excluding him from the hostilities. This is no one’s fool.
Nor would he take advantage of anyone else. Bush famously would not gouge anyone, nor sell to anyone he thought might gouge anyone. Even second-hand dishonesty was not to be considered. That counts for something.
There should be movies about this man, done the old way, with panache and sophistication, with a first-rate orchestra providing the background. The George and Isabella Bush story has it all – romance, tragedy and triumph, little guys vs. governments that need to be told what’s what, pioneers, wilderness, grace, honesty versus greediness, valor, loyalty, adventure, bravery, humor, spunk, smarts, territorial disputes, defiance, good luck, bad luck, immigrants making good, faith rewarded – the works. But who these days, besides Mel Gibson perhaps, would dare to treat the man as a remarkable man and not some sort of minority poster child? George W. Bush deserves better than that.
Here’s to his legacy – what can pieced together of it. Doing a search for George W. Bush gets you a lot of stuff on another fellow, currently living. And narrowing the search by adding the word “Washington” just doesn’t seem to help much, as it happens.
Oh, if I may add a slightly funny side note: when I started doing research on this man, he was usually referred to as George W. Bush, with occasional mention of his middle name (at a guess because the name George Washington has significance). On my most recent rounds, I found that some of the Internet references, at least, had magically started calling him George Washington Bush exclusively (at a guess because these days George W. Bush has significance). Not that it matters, really.
I stumbled across Tumwater’s Mr. Bush while researching a time travel adventure book for kids (Trouble Pug, coming out later this year, release date to be announced). I couldn’t fit him into the first book, but the story is too good to pass up. I’d like to use it in a sequel. How fun it would be to have the heroes say they’d like to meet George W. Bush but not asking specifically for the President – and wind up instead in territorial Washington in a fledgling community where one family has kids named George Washington, David Crockett, Frances Marion, MacDonald, and Christopher Columbus, and another family has children named George, America, Martha, and John.
You have to love a place like that. And a people like that. Not that I’d like to be named for a historical figure myself, perish the thought. But I like the spirit of it, anyhow.
And even if my time travelers miss Tumwater, I’ve had fun toying with the story and its people.
For fun, sometimes I like to think of that George W. Bush and his better-known namesake somehow getting together. It makes for some interesting musing.
The pioneer visits the White House? Or maybe better yet, Crawford? If I’m reading correctly between the lines, our hero would be at home either place, I think – or at least would have the poise and dignity to come off as being at home, if that’s the approach he decided to take.
As satisfying as it would be to bring the late George W. Bush forward to see how far things have come, I especially like to imagine taking President Bush back in time to meet his namesake. I can see them out there on Bush Prairie, farmer and rancher, leaning on the fence during a rare work break, swapping suggestions on how to weather difficulties both manmade and natural.
Call me crazy, but I’m beginning to think they’d find they had a lot in common. At any rate, they both seem to have been fated to see both the worst and the best that mankind can throw at a person as an individual.
But then, history for me is a way of comparing what changes and what stays the same, what matters and what doesn’t.
The man who died in 1863 can’t learn from us, but we can learn from him and hold him up as a role model. He could have settled for being merely well off, and might have looked out only for his own.
Instead, he took chances and got ahead, and along the way taught people to look at the content of a man’s character and not the color of his skin. Whatever got in his way, he simply dealt with it. When other people needed help, he dealt with that, too. He was gutsy, but civilized.
At the end of the day, he left his country better off than he found it.
Not a bad legacy. Not bad at all. Here’s to your memory, Mr. Bush.
