On a Journey to Seattle 1905

A Trip to Seattle

Having been booked by Local Seattle, to speak at two public meetings in that city on Sunday, Sept. 24th, I boarded the C. P. R. steamer Princess Victoria, Saturday, September 23, at 1 o’clock, p.m., for the purpose of keeping the engagement. Both gulf and sound were as placid as a mill-pond, and the weather being pleasant, the trip proved a delightful one. While passing the mouth of the Fraser River, the scene was enlivened by the jumping of innumerable salmon, and the lazy but graceful antics of a school of whales as they would come to the surface to “blow,” before again sinking to the depths below.

The steamer stopped at Victoria one hour and forty-five minutes, which was taken advantage of by a hasty visit to Comrades Mr. and Mrs. Stott, late of Winnipeg, Man., but who have recently pitched their tent in the Capital City. Leaving Victoria at 6:15 p.m., the lights of Seattle were sighted shortly before 11 o’clock, and soon after, the steamer was fast to her dock. The brilliant illumination of leading hotels, and other prominent buildings of Seattle affords a pleasing sight when viewed from an approaching vessel.

Upon landing, I was fortunate securing a pilot in the person of Comrade J. N. Boult, recently of Vancouver, who succeeded in piloting me through as noisy a band of bedlamites as it ever was my bad fortune to encounter, who with lust lung extended to the wayfarer the freedom of the city and vociferously besought him to partake of her bounties as offered for his delectation by the various hostelries for which they respectively raised their infernal din. Successfully escaping their good-will offerings, however, I at last cast anchor in a humble First Avenue joint, where for the paltry sum of one dollar I secured a fair sized and reasonably furnished room for the night. The proprietor kindly allowed me the privilege of fighting mosquitoes until breakfast time the next morning without extra charge. During my occupancy of these quarters, I truly led the “strenuous life.” When daylight flooded my boudoir, it showed the premises well littered with the mortal remains of defunct “skeeters,” and the bed linen looked as though it might have served as bandages at the Battle of Mukden.1 The exposed parts of my anatomy especially the top of my head where I wear my hair short, was as covered with red blotches as though I was suffering from hog cholera.

Seattle is a good town to strike on Sunday and other dry times. The way-farer with parched and rusty throat will find no Lord’s Day Alliance barring his approach to the soothing flood for which his gullet hankereth. If he desires to fumigate his person, and circumjacent space, with the fumes of the fragrant weed, he can provide himself with the necessary equipment without being compelled to purchase a meal. All of which is quite a relief to one who has lived for any length of time among the God-fearing and hypocritical humbugs that rule Vancouver.

I found the Seattle Comrades comfortably quartered in a commodious headquarters and reading room at 406 Pine Street. The reading room is on the ground floor of the building and therefore easy to locate. It appeared to be well patronized by an earnest and well-balanced lot of workingmen.

The propaganda meetings are held in a commodious, well-lighted and well-ventilated hall in the second storey of the same building. The afternoon meeting was attended by about 200 people and the evening meeting by fully 450. Close attention was given to the arguments offered, and the general tone and trend of the questions put to the speaker showed the audience to have been composed largely of persons familiar with the phenomena of capitalism, and by no means unacquainted with the revolutionary impulse that is impelling the workers to break the chains of wage-bondage. While an occasional feedable wail is heard from some poor unfortunate grievously infected with the “industrial microbe,” the movement in Seattle in the main appears to be forging ahead upon sound and clean-cut lines. It seems to be in the hands of the proletarian element, the “intellectual would-be’s” and their baneful influences relegated to the back-ground. The program made during the last few years, towards clearing away confusion, and establishing the movement along sound lines, is particularly noticeable in Seattle. The comrades are to be congratulated upon the good work done. It will be unnecessary to urge them to continue, as in the make-up of the Socialist no provision has been made for stopping his machinery. It is bound to keep on going.

Carrying with me the fraternal greetings of the Seattle comrades to those of British Columbia, I boarded the steamer at midnight for the return trip, and once more cast anchor for the daily grind in the Clarion office at 11 a.m. on Monday the 25th, fully conscious, not only of having had an enjoyable trip, but that the movement of the proletariat along the pathway leading to labor’s emancipation is forging ahead in other lands as well as British Columbia.

E. T. Kingsley