Stewart Holbrook was the first Oregon historian to capture and retain a national reputation. And he gained his attention in a unique way. Earlier travelers and visitors such as Lewis and Clark gave readers descriptions of scenes and varied peoples in the Pacific Northwest. Later in the 19th century, Oregon historians Frances Fuller Victor and William H. Gray provided historical accounts of Oregon with a scholarly bent.

But Holbrook veered in an unusual direction. His writings, he told readers, were “lowbrow” or “non-stuffed shirt history.” Throughout his books, Holbrook aimed at being most of all a consummate storyteller. He emphasized lively characters, dramatic events, and stirring narratives. That approach immediately opened the doors of popularity and sales that blessed Holbrook throughout his successful career.

BOOKS OF THE WEST

Holbrook came to Oregon when he was 30 years old. Born in Newport, Vt., in 1893, Holbrook lived in New England through his 20s. He arrived in Portland in 1923, without a job. He soon began working as a log scaler and river logger. In addition, he began writing for newspapers and logging publications. Over the years, Holbrook became a prolific writer, turning out more than 30 books and hundreds of essays. He wrote about a multitude of topics, including Wild West characters, many lesser known American historical figures, and several volumes on logging and forestry.

Holbrook’s initial book, Holy Old Mackinaw: A Natural History of the American Lumberjack, successfully launched the author’s book-writing career. The volume was published in 1938 and remained on bestseller lists for several months.  It also introduced readers to Holbrook’s unusual, almost-backwoods writing style.

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Holy Old Mackinaw follows a literary path similar to that of Holbrook’s own life. He opens his story with the feisty foresters of Bangor, Maine, and moves on to other parts of New England, New York, and Pennsylvania. Then, on to the Great Lakes area, before finally heading to the West Coast, where new methods of logging captured the hard-working loggers. In each section, the author provides several intriguing pen portraits of loggers from these separate regions.

Holbrook is fascinated with the lusty lifestyles of his foresters. He often portrays them as boozers, bawdy, and endlessly boisterous. In the early years in New England and the Great Lakes, the loggers were men of the forests, rivers, and lakes. Over time, especially in the Pacific Northwest and California, the loggers became increasingly linked to new methods of harvesting logs. These changes included erecting skid roads to drag logs from forests to boats, trains, or carts. Plus, technology invaded the logger domain, providing quicker ways to harvest and transport thousands more logs.

The second half of Holbrook’s lively account focuses especially on Oregon and Washington. In discussing Portland, he mentions the sinful Paris House, Erickson’s Saloon, and other similar establishments in Portland’s North End that drew loggers — and Holbrook’s comments. The Weyerhausers, Pope and Talbot, A.B. Hammond, Henry L. Yesler, and several other timber barons gain attention. In addition, he describes lumber towns such as Port Ludlow, Westport, Portland, Seattle, and several other lumber camps.

Holbrook also stuffs his pages with interest-whetting individuals, events, and ideas. There are the trouble-making members of the Industrial Workers of the World (Wobblies) who early in the 20th century disrupted lumbering in the West. Also, lumber thieves who robbed unaware owners and sleepy lumberjacks of thousands of board feet. Two Wobbly upheavals likewise attract the author: the so-called “Everett Massacre” (1916) and the deadly shootout between Wobblies and veterans in Centralia (1919).

Holbrook’s descriptions of loggers are especially memorable. In his words, they are, for example, muscular men, fallers and buckers, bullwhackers, and calked-boot gyppo loggers. Later they are called steam donkey wizards, forester-loggers, and long loggers. To Holbrook, logger life consisted of “booze, bawds, battle, and plenty of timber.” On another occasion, the logger path is pictured as “hard work, and rum, women, and what they called song.” Holbrook is never at a loss for new and catchy words and descriptions.

So, Stewart Holbrook, an academic historian, he was not. He was leagues away from the scholarly works of Joseph Schafer and Earl Pomeroy that appeared in the 20th century up through the 1950s. Still, as an ambitious researcher, Holbrook checked out a full run of books and essays dealing with loggers. He also dug thoroughly into newspapers and interviewed loggers, workers, and owners. Professors and other research scholars might differ from Holbrook in their stylistic approach to logging history but the two groups — academics and the popular historian Holbrook — were both energetic researchers.

Even a cursory reading of Holbrook’s inviting first book will provide an understanding of why that work — and later books — enticed so many readers. Holbrook, who died in 1964, was a superb storyteller, as this book proves. It is obviously a notable contribution to Oregon’s literary history.

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