I have long been enamored with maps so I thought I’d begin 2025 by exploring one of my favorite’s. In 1891, Augustus Koch produced his Bird’s Eye View of Seattle, a glorious illustration of the city. As he noted on the map, it came out just 18 months after Seattle’s Great Fire. Koch was illustrating the city’s rise from the ashes.
Like many his age, 49 years old, Augustus Koch had fought in the Civil War, where he had been draughtsman making maps. For the past two decades he had traveled the country producing fantastic aerial views of cities from Jacksonville, Florida to Los Angeles. He had come to Seattle in the summer of 1890 to do the same.
With exquisite detail, Koch drew Seattle from a perspective over what is now Pigeon Point in West Seattle. His bird’s eye view showed the city, its surroundings, and its infrastructure. Measuring 32 by 50 inches and published as a limited edition lithograph in January 1891, the panorama map took six months to complete. It provides a remarkable snapshot of a city on the cusp of change from its pioneer roots to its status as the most important city in the state.
Plying the waters of Elliott Bay are more than a dozen schooners, tugs, and paddlewheelers. Two were specific ships, the steamers Willamette and Walla Walla. Both were passenger ships running between San Francisco and Puget Sound. Also named was the U.S. Man of War Charleston. Koch’s smaller vessels look to be part of Puget Sound’s legendary Mosquito Fleet. Typically pointy-ended, flat bottomed, propeller driven, steam powered, and made of wood, the boats were a combination of public transportation, UPS truck, post office, and general store. (Note that a southerly wind was blowing, as smoke from factories and stationary ships blew to the north.) The Mosquito Fleet was essential to knitting together Puget Sound’s far flung settlements into a thriving community.
But what stands out most to me is the phenomenal presence of rail. Fifteen trains, the longest of which pulls 16 cars, travel on tracks to, through, and from Seattle. The train tracks so dominate the waterfront that you cannot reach any part of Elliott Bay from Beacon Hill to Smith Cove without crossing at least one and up to five tracks. In addition, thirteen trolleys carry passengers across the city, going up to Capitol Hill, along the spine of West Seattle, over Madison to Lake Washington, and south toward Rainier Valley.
Tracks also cross the tideflats of the Duwamish River and frame in the lowland’s east and north sides. Extending south into the tideland are wharves that give the city an appearance of trying to become a new Venice, floating atop the water. These were working wharves with a ship building facility, several lumber mills, immense coal bunkers, railroad depots, and boiler works. One result of the growth of the train system and associated infrastructure was the complete reshaping of the waterfront, which would ultimately add about 2,200 acres of made land to Seattle.
Known for his remarkable accuracy, Koch did what a photographer couldn’t; he created a composite image. For instance, all of those ships couldn’t have been in the harbor on the same day; they would have needed too much space to turn around. I would guess the same is true with all of the trains traveling through his drawing, but Koch’s portrait accurately reflects what a typical Seattleite could have witnessed in the growing city.
In the 18 months since the downtown had burned to the ground, everyone had rushed to rebuild, usually bigger and certainly more substantial with brick and stone instead of wood. The sounds of hammers, saws, chisels, sledges, and pile-drivers resounded with the Seattle Spirit. Ships arrived daily bringing in goods and supplies and taking out raw materials. And although, Seattleites would have to wait two more years for direct transcontinental rail service, trains also arrived and departed daily from points south and east.
It must have been an exciting time to live here. The city had survived its devastating fire and was now thriving and changing at an unprecedented pace. But, part of what make this image so interesting is that I know it is fleeting. Within thirty years, Seattle regrades (note the Hotel Denny atop Denny Hill) would reshape the topography, the tideflats would be filled, and forests that Koch shows would be logged. But what else is new; reimagining and reinventing itself has long been the story of Seattle. Just look around at what has happened here in the past few decades.
You have one more day (to January 3) to take advantage of the UW Press’s Winter Holiday offer of 40% discount of books ordered directly from them.
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