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Neighbors, particularly children, still discuss the
story of Danford Balch. Familiar with family strife and tragedies
with no obvious villains, we are still transfixed by the hints of
poor Danford caught up in something truly terrible happening almost
150 years ago. Whispers of parental violence and destroyed love
float around the elementary school yard – someone was shot.
The dank park under the bridge by Balch creek seems a likely place
for such gruesome undertakings, but everyone plays there anyway.
A hopeful Danford Balch arrived in Portland in 1847,
only three years after the first cabin was built at the townsite.
Danford and his wife of five years, Mary Jane Curtis, came overland
with their young children and probably found lodging in a rough
plank building or log cabin somewhere in the town proper. The streets
had been platted along the west side of the Willamette between Washington
and Jefferson Street, but Portlanders logged only some of the streets
and even those still had the stumps remaining as obstacles for travelers.
The forest came down to Second Street and sheltered the cabins on
Third Street. Families and individuals living scattered about the
surrounding area, now considered central Portland neighborhoods,
and the towns of Milwaukie and Oregon City to the south supplemented
the hundred odd people living in Portland.
Danford had been born in Massachusetts, and spent
his early childhood in Onondaga County, New York, where he attended
an occasional month of grammar school. He then moved with his parents
to Ohio, where they probably farmed, and lived with them until he
was thirty years old. When he moved on to Iowa in the early 1840s,
he met Mary Jane Curtis and they married on June 12, 1841. This
migratory life of continually pushing west was not that uncommon
– and required considerable self-reliance by the Balches.
In 1850, Danford made his Donation Land Claim, the
mechanism by which early settlers could obtain land from the US
government. His claim was smaller than the possible 640 acres but
located close to the Portland townsite. There are no records of
what Danford and Mary Jane did prior to their land claim –
tumultuous years for early Portland. The California gold rush drained
so many men from Oregon that that local newspapers lost their printers
and had to suspend business. Danford may have left for California,
leaving Mary Jane behind with at least three young children. More
likely, the family explored Portland and the different, competing
small towns along the Willamette. Certainly, Danford chose his land
claim well for further development of the city, even if the Balches
themselves gained little from its prime location.
The Balches 1850 land claim included roughly everything between
present-day NW Lovejoy and Thurman streets, and from NW 23rd avenue
up through Lower MacCleay Park. Prime real estate in today’s
Portland, Danford’s new home was forested land somewhat distant
from Portland itself. The family settled into their new life, probably
logging their land as well as farming and working on small crafts.
In later years, the general area was known for home alcohol stills,
and Danford may well have helped start this tradition.
Other than census and tax records, the Balch family,
now consisting of nine children, escaped official notice until 1858.
Danford posted a message in the local papers in May of 1858 that
a cow had been found wandering on his property, a very neighborly
thing to do.
That fall, however, more serious trouble enveloped
the Balch family. The eldest child, Anna, was now fifteen years
old, and apparently somewhat beguiling. The family was doing well
enough to have hired on some help in the form of Mortimer Stump,
a young man who lived and ate with them. Mortimer was the eldest
child of Cuthbert and Perlina Stump who had a Donation Land Claim
across the Willamette River, along the Columbia Slough just northeast
of what is now St. Johns.
Although some newspaper accounts reference a Shakespearean-style
feud between the Balches and Stumps, there are no records of standing
animosity between the two families. Indeed, it seems more likely
that there was some fond regard since Mortimer was living and working
with the Balch family.
In this intimate environment, Mortimer and Anna fell
in love. Mortimer spoke to Danford Balch about marrying his eldest
daughter, and Danford rebuffed Mortimer and relieved him of his
position with the family. Danford Balch, still not fully part of
the burgeoning Portland society, probably viewed the Stumps, with
their even more distantly located land, as beneath his family. Suitable
as hired hands, unacceptable as relatives.
Anna, either feeling the pull of her paramour or the
push of an authoritative father, met up with Mortimer on the west
side of the Willamette or traveled by herself to the Stump land
claim across the river. She chose the Stumps over the Balches, and
her decision would reshape the future of both families.
A Fort Vancouver Justice of the Peace married Mortimer
and Anna, who then returned to the Stump land claim. On Thursday,
November 18, only a few days after Anna had fled her family, the
Stumps, including the newlyweds, came into Portland. They crossed
the Willamette River on the Stark Street Ferry with a wagon to purchase
supplies in Portland to set Mortimer and Anna up on the Stump family
land.
At Benjamin Starr’s tin shop on Front Street,
the Stumps had the misfortune to run into Danford Balch. Since Anna
had left home a few days earlier, Danford had not been doing well.
Not eating or sleeping much, and drinking at least some, Danford
wanted his daughter back. Perhaps Danford truly did love his daughter
and missed her terribly, or maybe feelings of pride and honor compelled
him to demand her back.
At Starr’s shop, Danford and several of the Stumps exchanged
words. The Stump family patriarch, Cuthbert, wanted to know what
Danford had against the Stumps, and, according to Danford, used
increasingly harsh language. Danford reported that midway through
their exchange, Cuthbert said, “You are making a great fuss
about your child; she is an ordinary little bitch and I do not know
what the hell you want of her.” The conversation did not improve.
After this exchange, Danford rode back to his home,
a journey of over 45 minutes, and retrieved his loaded shotgun.
He headed towards the Stark Street Ferry, hoping to intercept the
Stumps. As he approached, he saw Anna for the first time since she
had left home. Danford went onto the ferry after her hoping to talk
with her or even bring her home. When Mortimer appeared from behind
a wagon, Danford shot his son-in-law in the face and neck with buckshot.
The horrified audience included the Stumps, Anna, and a dozen or
so other passengers.
A bystander grabbed Danford by the neck while the
ferryman protested Danford’s actions. Danford insisted it
was an accident. The sheriff arrived and despite Danford’s
continued protestations of innocence, he took Danford off to the
county jail. The reactions of Anna, Cuthbert, or the other Stumps
are not described, nor is Anna’s fate given much coverage
in the official accounts. She had left her family home and lived
only briefly with her in-laws before her own father shot their eldest
son. Neither household could have felt very welcoming. If she had
married for love, she had lost it. If she had married to escape
her family, her new family was not an improvement. Clearly, Cuthbert
Stump was a strong spirit, and on some level the Stumps probably
held her responsible for Mortimer’s death. For that matter,
she might have held herself responsible.
Danford spent the winter in the Portland jail awaiting
trial in a jurisdiction that was more interested in development,
trade, and liquor than in crime. The jail was rickety, and the public
was not convinced that Danford acted outside his rights as an employer
and father. That spring, Danford escaped. The local papers did not
record this incident with much excitement. Although ships regularly
came into Portland bound for Hawaii, San Francisco, and South America,
Danford did not flee the city or country. Instead, he returned to
his land claim, still heavily forested and including some hilly
portions. Sheriff Starr did not pursue him with any immediate seriousness
and he began eating some of his meals at the family house. Anna
presumably remained with Stumps and had not returned to her family
home.
In July of 1859, the sheriff finally arrested Danford
while eating breakfast at his home. His escape and the failure of
law enforcement to recapture Danford obviously galled some community
members, and reportedly someone tipped the sheriff off about Danford’s
location. The law returned Danford to jail and deputies guarded
him fairly heavily, as the jail remained inadequate and public sentiment
was still mixed.
On August 17, he came to trial, offering little in his defense and
several witnesses testified to his threats against Mortimer Stump
prior to their fatal meeting on November 18. The trial lasted four
days, and the jury returned a guilty verdict within a few minutes.
Judge Wait asked Danford if he had anything to say about his conviction
and sentencing. Danford replied, “Nothing.” Judge Wait
sentenced him to death by hanging on October 17.
Danford composed in jail, with the significant assistance
of the Methodist Reverend Thomas H. Pearne, a lengthy account of
his life, the accidental shooting of Mortimer Stump, and his hopes
for his nine children. The Weekly Oregonian, well aware of the value
of his words, published his words the weekend following his death.
The Methodist minister reinforced the role of alcohol in Danford’s
crime, which the papers reiterated.
There are hints in Danford’s account, as well
as in the newspaper articles from the time, that there were greater
conspiracies afoot. Danford felt the need to insist that he had
nothing to do with the dead man found in the gulch three years earlier,
and allude to “injuries” he had received that would
clear his name if he could have articulated them to the jury. Danford’s
bewilderment at his conviction permeates his account – he
was a father protecting his rights and love towards his daughter
and, furthermore, it was an accident. The legal machine had caught
him up and undermined his own natural rights and disregarded his
need to protect himself against Mortimer Stump.
This time, Danford did not break out of jail. His
hanging would be the first legal hanging in Portland, and the spectacle
excited the public. The sheriff constructed a gallows near the jail,
and similar to Rose Festival parades, citizens began saving their
seats early for the big event. One enterprising citizen even blocked
off a section with seats to rent, but someone tossed the chairs
into the river before the execution took place.
Five or six hundred people came out to watch Danford
Balch hang on October 17. Several accounts, although somewhat questionable,
indicate that Anna Balch Stump and her mother, Mary Jane Balch,
watched the hanging together. The Stumps also numbered among the
audience. The Weekly Oregonian reported that most of the audience
was not from the town proper (which would have included only the
most eastern parts of Portland’s current downtown), but from
outlying areas, the “interior.” The editor had scathing
words for Anna’s decision to watch the execution for a crime
for which he deemed her partly responsible.
Danford’s family lost his land, located in such
a prime direction for expansion of the city, as easily as he forfeited
his life. Although he wished for the claim to be split between his
wife and children, John Confer, Mary Jane’s new husband, gobbled
up her half even before they married in 1862 or 1863. Subsequently,
John H. Mitchell, a local attorney who later became a US Senator,
arranged to benefit from the land instead of fulfilling his role
as guardian of the family’s interests. Between John Confer
and John Mitchell, the nine Balch children gained barely anything
from their father’s estate.
Today little is left of the Balch family. The creek
retains the name, and a sign underneath the bridge over Balch creek
mentions the family and their tragedy. A local realtor helped rescue
from demolition a house built in the 1870s and apparently occupied
by Mary Jane Balch. And children continue to murmur about the man
from the neighborhood who was hanged by his neck until dead.
Sources:
“Conviction of Danford Balch for the Murder
of his Son-in-law, Mortimer Stump.” The Weekly Oregonian 27
August 1859.
“Couches to Oregon: Genealogical Material
in the Oregon Donation of Land Claims.” http://www.couchgenweb.com/couch/orcouch.htm
Accessed 24 November 2003.
DeMarco, Gordon. A Short History of Portland. Lexikos:
San Francisco, 1990.
“Execution of Balch” and “Dying
Statements of Danford Balch.” The Weekly Oregonian 22 October
1859.
Lansing, Jewel. People, Politics, and Power, 1851-2001.
Oregon State University Press: Corvallis, 2003.
MacColl, E. Kimbark. Merchants, Money, and Power:
the Portland Establishment 1843-1913. Georgian Press: Portland,
1988.
Madill, Jan; Chet Orloff; Carol Weigler; and the Willamette
Heights Historical Archive Committee. Willamette Heights Chronicles.
Available at the Oregon Historical Society Library.
Miller, Edward M. “That Was an Eventful Day
in Portland.” Oregonian 8 February 1928, p. 11.
“Mitchell and the Balch Villany.” The
Daily Oregonian 28 August 1882.
“Murder Most Foul.” The Weekly Oregonian
20 November 1858.
“Recaptured.” The Weekly Oregonian 30
July 1859.
Snyder, Eugene. Early Portland: Stumptown Triumphant.
Binford & Mort: Portland, 1970.
Snyder, Eugene. We Claimed this Land: Portland’s
Pioneer Settlers. Binford & Mort: Portland, 1989.
Swing, William. “Willamette Heights Pioneer
Was Hanged As Murderer.” Oregonian 15 October 1961, p. 45.
“To Be Hung.” The Weekly Oregonian 15
October 1859.
“A Very Plain Statement of Facts.” The
Daily Oregonian 25 August 1882.
Washington County Census, 1850. Available at the Oregon
Historical Society Library, #3450.
Washington County Tax Roll, 1854. Available at the
Oregon Historical Society Library, #8021.
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