| See the large observatory on the roof? Up there was a very large and
expensive telescope. On a clear day one could see the snow weighted slopes
of the Cascades with it. An accidental fire burned it down, and today the
whole butte is a state park to be enjoyed by all the people for ever and
ever. One man worked a large part of his life to acquire the land and then
he gave it to the state and helped to develop it until his death at 93
years. His name was Virgil T. McCroskey. Of Virgil's inspiration, Bert
Gamble wrote:
After cremation scatter me
Over McCroskey's grass;
Where bold March chinooks come
bold and free,
Where rain and wild geese pass.
High upon Steptoe Butte I'll dream
Where sunflowers nod and sway
So near to God and stars that gleam
While eons roll away.
Born in 1815 in Hastings, England, Davis had crossed the
Atlantic in 1840 because he believed in the American concept of freedom
and self-reliance. He married Mary Ann Shoemaker of Columbus, Ohio in 1844
and the couple raised eleven children, all who survived infancy, before
decided to cross the Plains. The Davis's joined thousands of other in
moving West by covered wagon in 1871 where they settled near McMinnville,
Oregon. The following year Davis scouted out eastern Washington for a more
favorable home site and selected property near present day Thornton, but
when he returned with his family he found the spot was already occupied.
With vast tracts throughout the Palouse still unclaimed, Davis selected
another location to the south on the present site of St. John in 1872. The
family built a two-room sod house in a side hill and raised livestock,
wheat, and oats for two years before erecting a substantial ten-room
house. In a letter to the couple's son William, who had remained in the
Midwest. Davis described his new surroundings:
"We are all well and in good spirits, now you wanted
to know something about this country. In the first place this is a vast
rolling prairie. In some places it is hilly with beautiful springs and
streams of water. The country is one vast pasturage of grass. Its
fattening qualities are unsurpassed by any in the world."
In 1875 the Davis family relocated to Cottonwood Springs
in the shadow of Steptoe Butte near present day town of Cashup. Here Davis
purchased 1600 acres of prime land from the Northern Pacific Railroad for
$2.60 an acre to begin a successful farming and business operation. His
home site located on a popular frontier trail between Colfax and Spokane,
Davis decided to open a general store on the main floor of the family's
new home and a dance hall and rooms were added on the second story. The
Davis ranch soon developed into a popular way-station for stagecoach
drivers and their passengers and teams. The pleasant aroma of Mary Ann's
baking was known to colorful drivers like Felix Warren and others who
frequently passed along the route. Passengers as well as old friends would
often spend the night entertained by the music of the Davis family and
James' tales of life in Europe and the East. The sudden outbreak of the
Nez Perce Indian War of 1877 stirred a panic in the Palouse that nearly
drove the Davis's and others from the region. Although the fighting broke
out in the Clearwater River district far to the southeast, rumors that
Indians were fanning out across the Palouse to raid isolated farms caused
many pioneers to cluster in hastily built forts in Colfax, Palouse, and
Spangle. Davis refused to leave his home but sent his wife and some of
their children to safety in Walla Walla. A poignant letter from Mary Ann
Davis headlined "Tucannon, July22, 1877" reveals the challenges
of life on the Palouse frontier during this period:
"Dear children, I once more take my pencil for I've
no pen. We are fleeing from the Indians. They have broke out and are
killing settlers, about forty miles from our house and people are fleeing
for their lives. The roads are full of people leaving their homes and
everything behind. It's an awful thing. We are on our way to Walla
Walla.... Your father and Clarence stayed home to watch the place. Our
horses, hogs, and cattle are behind. We got 32 head of horses and colts,
and 100 head of cattle, and 100 head of hogs. We expect to hear of our
house being burned and everything destroyed we have.... My health is poor,
my heart troubles me. I sure hope I get better soon. Dear children, shall
we ever meet here again."
To Mary Ann's relief, the warring Nez Perce under Chief
Joseph headed east across the Rocky Mountains and she was soon able to be
reunited with her husband back in the Palouse. James Davis's gregarious
personality won him many friends throughout the region and over the years
"Steptoe Station" developed into the most popular inn in the
Palouse. The Davis ranch became s social center for the farming families
of the area who often gathered for holiday celebrations and community
dances. Davis's pioneer enterprises prospered and he became known as
someone who had cash money whenever he needed to complete a business
transaction. Since many settlers often relied on credit for much of the
year, Davis's trademark saying of "cash-up" earned himself the
nickname "Cashup". Inthe spring of 1879 the Davis home was
visited by a reporter from Colfax's Palouse Gazette who reported that: the
family had some 200 acres under cultivation and 4,000 bushels of wheat,
oats, and barley in the granary. "He has an abundant supply of garden
products, and during the past year his dairy has produced some 3,000
pounds of butter, worth an average of 30 cents per pound. The in-door
work, no small part of the whole for his hospitable home is a sort of
hotel, is done by his wife and two daughters. I mention this to show what
industry will do in a country where nature has done so much. The following
account of an 1880 New Year's party with some thirty "pleasure
seekers" at the Davis ranch reveals that Palouse Country pioneering
was not all hard labor and Indian scares. "Soon after 7 o'clock we
reached the hospitable domicile of Mr. Davis, and were heartily received
by that gentleman and his family although we were not expected and the
family was on the eve of retiring for the night. After we had removed our
wraps...we were escorted by our host to the hall and imagine our surprise
at finding here the best and most comfortable dancing hall in the Palouse.
The building is 60x30 feet and two stories high. The upper story is
exclusively set apart for a hall and is provided with comfortable seats,
and music stand, and is well lighted and heated." "Immediately
on entering the hall, the Privett string bank which accompanied us, struck
up a waltz and the jolly company indulged in a delightful whirl which was
followed in quick succession by various other dances for a period of two
hours when supper was announced and we all repaired to the dining room and
eagerly devoured the bountiful repast that was spread before us. Supper
over, we returned to the hall and resumed dancing which was kept up until
the small hours of the morning." Cashup himself was known to play the
sailor's hornpipe and dance the Virginia Reel at these fun-filled affairs.
One observer described the Englishman as "short in stature, thin of
face, with a close-cut stubby beard and hair as white as snow and fond of
his high silk hat. The advent of railroads across the Northwest meant an
end to the stagecoach era and the big barns used for the stagecoach teams
grew silent as business declined at Steptoe Station. Cashup Davis's
friendly nature sought a new venture that would once again bring crowds to
his household and in the 1880s he launched the project that would become
both his cause and curse--a hotel on top of Steptoe Butte. In the spring
of 1888 Davis undertook the Herculean task of building a road to the top
of the butte and hauling thousands of board feet of lumber and
construction equipment. He purchased property at the top of the butte that
year from the O.W.R.&N. Railway. Some accounts record that he invested
$10,000 into the venture, a fortune at the time, to build a majestic
two-story structure sixty by sixty-four feet. The lower floor featured a
sixty foot long hall and stage with kitchen and private quarters for the
Davis's. Mrs. Davis, however, chose to spend most of her time in the
family home at the foot of the butte. Guest rooms and a large dining hall
that could accommodate up to fifty persons were located on the second
story. Crowning the building was an intricately carved balcony railing
surrounding a glass-walled cupola fourteen feet wide that was used for a
reading room and observatory. Cashup purchased a powerful brass telescope
to view the surrounding countryside and the immense structure itself was
visible atop the butte for miles around. Visitors marveled that the
snow-laden peaks of the Cascade range were visible through the instrument
on clear days. Graders and carpenters worked feverishly into the summer of
1888 on the vast undertaking to meet Davis's goal of a grand opening on
the Fourth of July. Davis adorned his office and showroom with clustered
sheaves of wheat, barley and other Palouse Country produce along with
colorful flags and wallpaper. A beautifully crafted double-door entry with
beveled glass provided a distinguished entry to his mountaintop pavilion.
Cashup invited guests to visit his hotel for rest and to gain the same
inspiration that he derived from the commanding heights. But his colossal
shrine the the land he had so come to love proved to be an unwise
investment. After the novelty of a trip to the top of the butte, few area
residents risked the expense and ordeal of travel up the primitive road
where there was little entertainment once the crowds failed to
materialize. After several years of operation, Davis became a solitary
figure in his Palouse Country castle, the forlorn image of a man devoted
to a place that was impractical to share with others. Area resident George
McCroskey recalled that Davis's hotel did serve as a popular destination
for the first few years. The young farm boy would often travel to the top
of the butte with his brother, Virgil, to visit the old proprietor.
Although the country was sparsely settled and roads and travel
accommodations poor, hundreds visited the resort each season, but not
enough to make the venture pay. But Cashup stayed on, at first with
someone to help him, but in later years he alone occupied the big house, a
lonely and dejected figure, patiently waiting for the crowds which seldom
came. When occasional parties ascended the mountain, he would brighten up
and was glad, but when they began to leave, tears would come to his old
eyes. Mary Ann died in 1894 and the old hostler continued to live in
lonely splendor atop the butte until he passed away there at the age of 81
on the morning of June 22, 1896. An accidental fire started by two young
boys on the night of March 15, 1908 reduced the grand structure to flames
in a spectacle visible throughout the county and removed forever one of
the region's most fascinating landmarks.
FROM: Sacred Slopes: A History of Steptoe Butte,
by John Sheuerman and the Class of 2003, St. John Public Schools.
(Emily Peone interviews, 1982)
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