BANCROFT
LIBRARY
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
FRANK C. PRESCOTT,
u
HISTORY
OF THE
DONNER PARTY;
A TRAGEDY OF THE SIERRA,
BY C, F. MCGLASHAN,
SAN FRANCISCO:
A. L. BANCROFT & COMPANY, PRINTERS.
1880.
Copyrighted 1879 and 1880, by C. F. McGLASHAN.
TO
MRS. ELIZABETH A. KEISER,
ONE OF THE
PIONEER MOTHERS OF CALIFORNIA,
THIS BOOK
is
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR,
PREFACE.
'HE delirium preceding death by starvation, is full of
strange phantasies. Visions of plenty, of comfort, of
elegance, flit ever before the fast-dimming eyes. The final
twilight of death is a brief semi-consciousness in which the
dying one frequently repeats his weird dreams. Half rising
from his snowy couch, pointing upward, one of the death-
stricken at Donner Lake may have said, with tremulous
voice: "Look! there, just above us, is a beautiful house. It
is of costliest walnut, inlaid with laurel and ebony, and is
resplendent with burnished silver. Magnificent in all its
apartments, it is furnished like a palace. It is rich with
costly cushions, elegant tapestries, dazzling mirrors; its floor
is covered with Oriental carpets, its ceiling with artistic
frescoings; downy cushions invite the weary to repose. It
is filled with people who are chatting, laughing, and singing,
joyous and care-free. There is an abundance of warmth,
and rare viands, and sparkling wines. Suspended among the
storm-clouds, it is flying along the face of the precipice at a
marvelous speed. Flying? no! it has wheels and is gliding
along on a smooth, steel pathway. It is sheltered from the
wind and snow by large beams and huge posts, which are
bolted to the cliffs with heavy, iron rods. The avalanches,
with their burden of earth and rocks and crushed pines,
sweep harmlessly above this beautiful house and its happy
inmates. It is drawn by neither oxen nor horses, but by a
fiery, hot-breathed monster, with iron limbs and thews of
steel. The mountain trembles beneath his tread, and the
rocks for miles re-echo his roar."
6 PREFACE.
If such a vision was related, it but indicates, prophetically,
the progress of a few years. California's history is replete
with tragic, startling events. These events are the landmarks
by which its advancement is traced. One of the most mourn-
ful of these is recorded in this work — a work intended as a
contribution, not to the literature, but to the history of the
State. More thrilling than romance, more terrible than fic-
tion, the sufferings of the Donner Party form a bold contrast
to the joys of pleasure-seekers who to-day look down upon
the lake from the windows of silver palace cars.
The scenes of horror and despair which transpired in the
snowy Sierra in the winter of 1846-7, need no exaggeration,
no embellishment. From all the works heretofore published,
from over one thousand letters received from the survivors,
from ample manuscript, and from personal interviews with
the most important actors in the tragedy, the facts have been
carefully compiled. Neither time, pains, nor expense have
been spared in ferreting out the truth. New and fragmentary
versions of the sad story have appeared almost every year
since the unfortunate occurrence. To forever supplant these
distorted and fabulous reports — which have usually been sen-
sational newspaper articles — the survivors have deemed it wise
to contribute the truth. The truth is sufficiently terrible.
Where conflicting accounts of particular scenes or occur-
rences have been contributed, every effort has been made to
render them harmonious and reconcilable. With justice,
with impartiality, and with strict adherence to what appeared
truthful and reliable, the book has been written. It is an
honest effort toward the truth, and as such is given to the
world.
C. F. McGLASHAN.
TRUCKEE, CAL., June 30, 1879.
OF THE .
XTNIVERSITY J
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
Donner Lake — A Famous Tourist Resort — Building the Central Pacific —
California's Skating Park — The Pioneers — The Organization of the
Donner Party — Ho! for California! — A Mammoth Train — The Dangers
by the Way — False Accounts of the Sufferings Endured — Complete
Roll of the Company — Impostors Claiming to Belong to the Party —
Killed by the Pawnees — An Alarmed Camp — Resin Indians — A
Mother's Death. 15
CHAPTER II.
Mrs. Donner's Letters — Life on the Plains — An Interesting Sketch — The
Outfit Required— The Platte River— Botanizing— Five Hundred and
Eighteen Wagons for California— Burning "Buffalo Chips"— The
Fourth of July at Fort Laramie — Indian Discipline — Sioux Attempt to
Purchase Mary Graves — George Donner Elected Captain — Letter of
Stanton — Dissension — One Company Split up into Five — The Fatal
Hastings Cut-off — Lowering Wagons over a Precipice — The First
View of Great Salt Lake 24
CHAPTER III.
A Grave of Salt — Members of the Mystic Tie — Twenty Wells — A Desolate
Alkaline Waste — Abandoned on the Desert — A Night of Horror — A
Steer Maddened by Thirst — The Mirage — Yoking an Ox and a Cow —
"Cacheing" Goods — The Emigrants' Silent Logic — A Cry for Relief
— Two Heroic Volunteers — A Perilous Journey — Letters to Captain
Sutler 34
8 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV.
Gravelly Ford— The Character of James F. Reed— Causes which Led to the
Reed-Snyder Tragedy— John Snyder's Popularity— The Fatal Alterca-
tion—Conflicting Statements of Survivors— Snyder's Death— A Brave
Girl— A Primitive Trial— A Court of Final Resort— Verdict of Banish-
ment— A Sad Separation — George and Jacob Donner Ahead at the
Time — Finding Letters in Split Sticks— Danger of Starvation 41
CHAPTER V.
Great Hardships— The Sink of the Humboldt— Indians Stealing Cattle—
An Entire Company Compelled to Walk— Abandoned to Die—
Wolfinger Murdered — Rhinehart's Confession — Arrival of C. T. Stan-
ton— A Temporary Relief— A Fatal Accident— The Sierra Nevada
Mountains — Imprisoned in Snow — Struggles for Freedom — A Hopeless
Situation — Digging for Cattle in Snow — How the Breen Cabin Hap-
pened to be Built— A Thrilling Sketch of a Solitary Winter— Putting
up Shelters— The Donners Have Nothing but Tents— Fishing for Trout. 5 1
CHAPTER VI.
Endeavors to Cross the Mountains — Discouraging Failures — Eddy Kills a
Bear — Making Snow-Shoes — Who composed the " Forlorn Hope" —
Mary A. Graves — An Irishman — A Generous Act — Six Days' Rations
—Mary Graves' Account— Snow-Blind—C. T. Stanton's Death— " I
Am Coming Soon" — Sketch of Stanton's Early Life — His Charity and
Self-sacrifice — The Diamond Breast-pin — Stanton's Last Poem 64
CHAPTER VII.
A Wife's Devotion— The Smoky Gorge— Caught in a Storm— Casting Lots
to See Who should Die — A Hidden River — The Delirium of Starvation
—Franklin Ward Graves— His Dying Advice— A Frontiersman's Plan—
The Camp of Death — A Dread Resort — A Sister's Agony — The Indians
Refuse to Eat— Lewis and Salvador Flee for Their Lives— Killing a
Deer— Tracks Marked by Blood— Nine Days without Food 78
CONTENTS. 9
CHAPTER VIII.
Starvation at Donner Lake — Preparing Rawhide for Food — Eating the Fire-
rug — Shoveling Snow off the Beds — Playing they were Tea-cups of
Custard — A Starving Baby — Pleading with Silent Eloquence — Patrick
Breen's Diary — Jacob Donner's Death — A Child's Vow — A Christmas
Dinner — Lost on the Summits — A Stump Twenty-two Feet High —
Seven Nursing Babes at Donner Lake — A Devout Father — A Dying
Boy — Sorrow and Suffering at the Cabins 89
CHAPTER IX.
The Last Resort — Two Reports of a Gun— Only Temporary Relief— Weary
Traveling — The Snow Bridges — Human Tracks! — An Indian Rancherie
— Acorn Bread — Starving Five Times! — Carried Six Miles — Bravery of
John Rhodes — A Thirty-two Days' Journey — Organizing the First Relief
Party — Alcalde Sinclair's Address — Capt. R. P. Tucker's Companions. 105
CHAPTER X.
A Lost Age in California History — The Change Wrought by the Discovery
of Gold — The Start from Johnson's Ranch — A Bucking Horse — A
Night Ride — Lost in the Mountains — A Terrible Night — A Flooded
Camp — Crossing a Mountain Torrent — Mule Springs — A Crazy Com-
panion— Howlings of Gray Wolves — A Deer Rendezvous — A Midnight
Thief— Frightening Indians — The Diary of the First Relief Party 113
CHAPTER XI.
Hardships of Reed and Herron — Generosity of Captain Sutter — Attempts
to Cross the Mountains with Provisions — Curtis' Dog — Compelled to
Turn Back — Hostilities with Mexico — Memorial to Gov. Stockton —
Yerba Buena's Generosity — Johnson's Liberality — Pitiful Scenes at
Donner Lake — Noble Mothers — Dying rather than Eat Human Flesh
— A Mother's Prayer — Tears of Joy — Eating the Shoestrings 121
CHAPTER XII.
A Wife's Devotion — Tamsen Donner's Early Life — The Early Settlers of
Sangamon County — An Incident in School — Teaching and Knitting
IO CONTENTS.
— School Discipline— Capt. George Donner's Appearance— Parting
Scenes at Alder Creek — Starting over the Mountains — A Baby's Death
— A Mason's Vow — Crossing the Snow Barrier — More Precious than
Gold or Diamonds — Elitha Donner's Kindness 137
CHAPTER XIII.
Death of Ada Keseberg — Denton Discovering Gold — A Poem Composed
while Dying — The Caches of Provisions Robbed by Fishers — The
Sequel to the Reed-Snyder Tragedy — Death from Overeating — The
Agony of Frozen Feet — An Interrupted Prayer — Stanton, after Death,
Guides the Relief Party! — The Second Relief Party Arrives — A Soli-
tary Indian — Patty Reed and Her Father — Starving Children Lying in
Bed — Mrs. Graves' Money still Buried at Donner Lake 148
CHAPTER XIV.
Leaving Three Men in the Mountains — The Emigrants Quite Helpless —
Bear Tracks in the Snow — The Clumps of Tamarack — Wounding a
Bear — Blood Stains upon the Snow — A Weary Chase — A Momentous
Day — Stone and Cady Leave the Sufferers — A Mother Offering Five
Hundred Dollars — Mrs. Donner Parting from her Children — "God
will Take Care of You" — Buried in Snow without Food or Fire —
Pines Uprooted by the Storm— A Grave Cut in the Snow — The Cub's
Cave — Firing at Random — A Desperate Undertaking — Preparing for a
Hand-to-hand Battle — Precipitated into the Cave — Seizing the Bear —
Mrs. Elizabeth Donner's Death — Clarke and Baptiste Attempt to
Escape —A Death, more Cruel than Starvation 163
CHAPTER XV.
A Mountain Storm — Provisions Exhausted — Battling the Storm Fiends —
Black Despair— Icy Coldness — A Picture of Desolation — The Sleep of
Death— A Piteous Farewell — Falling into the Fire-well — Isaac Donner's
Death — Living upon Snow Water — Excruciating Pain — A Vision of
Angels— "Patty is Dying!"— The Thumb of a Mitten— A Child's
Treasures— The "Dolly" of the Donner Party 170
CONTENTS. 1 1
CHAPTER XVI.
A Mother at Starved Camp — Repeating the Litany — Hoping in Despair —
Wasting Away — The Precious Lump of Sugar — "James is Dying" — •
Restoring a Life— Relentless Hunger— The Silent Night Vigils— The
Sight of Earth — Descending the Snow Pit — The Flesh of the Dead —
Refusing to Eat — The Morning Star — The Mercy of God — The Muti-
lated Forms — The Dizziness of Delirium — Faith Rewarded — "There is
Mrs. Breen." 183
CHAPTER XVII.
The Rescue — California Aroused — A Yerba Buena Newspaper — Tidings of
Woe — A Cry of Distress — Noble Generosity — Subscriptions for the
Donner Party — The First and Second Reliefs — Organization of the
Third— The Dilemma— Voting to Abandon a Family— The Fatal
Ayes— John Stark's Bravery — Carrying the Starved Children — A Plea
for the Relief Party 191
CHAPTER XVIII. -
Arrival of the Third Relief — The Living and the Dead — Captain George
Donner Dying — Mrs. Murphy's Words — Foster and Eddy at the Lake
— Tamsen Donner and Her Children — A Fearful Struggle — The Hus-
band's Wishes — Walking Fourteen Miles — Wifely Devotion — Choosing
Death — The Night Journey — An Unparalleled Ordeal — An Honored
Name— Three Little Waifs— "And Our Parents are Dead." 199
CHAPTER XIX.
False Ideas about the Donner Party — Accused of Six Murders — Interviews
with Lewis Keseberg — His Statement — An Educated German — A Pre-
destined Fate — Keseberg's Lameness — Slanderous Reports — Covered
with Snow — "Loathsome, Insipid, and Disgusting" — Longings toward
Suicide — Tamsen Donner's Death — Going to Get the Treasure — Sus-
pended over a Hidden Stream — "Where is Donner's Money?" — Ex-
torting a Confession 205
12 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XX.
Dates of the Rescues— Arrival of the Fourth Relief— A Scene Beggaring
' Description— The Wealth of the Donners — An Appeal to the Highest
Court — A Dreadful Shock — Saved from a Grizzly Bear — A Trial for
Slander — Keseberg Vindicated— Two Kettles of Human Blood — The
Enmity of the Relief Party— "Born under an Evil Star"— "Stone
Him! Stone Him!"— Fire and Flood— Keseberg's Reputation for Hon-
esty— A Prisoner in His Own House — The Most Miserable of Men 216
CHAPTER XXI.
Sketch of Gen. John A. Sutter— The Donner Party's Benefactor— The
Least and Most that Earth can Bestow — The Survivors' Request — His
Birth and Parentage — Efforts to Reach California — New Helvetia —
A Puny Army — Uninviting Isolation — Ross and Bodega — Unbounded
Generosity— Sutler's Wealth— Effect of the Gold Fever— Wholesale
Robbery — The Sobrante Decision — A "Genuine and Meritorious"
Grant— Utter Ruin— Hock Farm— Gen. Sutter's Death— Mrs. E. P.
Houghton's Tribute 225
CHAPTER XXII.
The Death List— The Forty-two Who Perished— Names of Those Saved—
Forty-eight Survivors — Traversing Snow-belt Five Times — Burying the
Dead — An Appalling Spectacle — Tamsen Donner's Last Act of Devo-
tion— A Remarkable Proposal — Twenty-six Present Survivors — Mc-
Cutchen — Keseberg — The Graves Family — The Murphys — Naming
Marysville— The Reeds— The Breens 236
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Orphan Children of George and Tamsen Donner — Sutter, the Philan-
thropist—"If Mother Would Only Come "—Christian and Mary Brun-
ner— An Enchanting Home— "Can't You Keep Both of Us?"— Eliza
Donner Crossing the Torrent— Earning a Silver Dollar— The Gold
Excitement— Getting an Education— Elitha C. Donner— Leanna C.
Donner— Frances E. Donner— Georgia A. Donner— Eliza P. Donner. . 247
CONTENTS. 13
CHAPTER XXIV.
Yerba Buena's Gift to George and Mary Donner— An Alcalde's Negligence
— Mary Donner's Land Regranted — Squatters Jump George Donner's
Land — A Characteristic Land Law-suit — Vexatious Litigation — Twice
Appealed to Supreme Court, and once to United States Supreme Court
— A Well-taken Law Point — Mutilating Records — A Palpable Erasure
— Relics of the Donner Party — Five Hundred Articles Buried Thirty-
two Years — Knives, Forks, Spoons — Pretty Porcelain — Identifying
Chinaware — Beads and Arrow-heads — A Quaint Bridle-bit — Remark-
able Action of Rust— A Flint-Lock Pistol— A Baby's Shoe— The Rest-
ing Place of the Dead — Vanishing Land-marks 253
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page
DONNER LAKE . ..... Frontispiece.
ELIZA P. DONNER 16
GEORGIA A. DONNER 20
THE BREEN FAMILY 44
VIRGINIA E. REED 66
MATTIE J. (PATTY) REED 78
MARY A. GRAVES 100
C. T. STANTON 122
JAMES F. REED 146
MRS. MARGARET W. REED 160
NICHOLAS CLARK 184
W. C. GRAVES 202
LEWIS KESEBERG 220
WILLIAM MCCUTCHEN 244
CHAPTER I.
UNIVERSITY
Donner Lake — A Famous Tourist Resort — Building the Central Pacific — Cali-
fornia's Skating Park — The Pioneers — The Organization of the Donner
Party — Ho! for California! — A Mammoth Train — The Dangers by the
Way — False Accounts of the Sufferings Endured — Complete Roll of the
Company — Impostors Claiming to Belong to the Party — Killed by the
Pawnees — An Alarmed Camp — Resin Indians — A Mother's Death.
miles from Truckee, Nevada County, Cali-
fornia, lies one of the fairest and most picturesque
lakes in all the Sierra. Above, and on either side,
are lofty mountains, with castellated granite crests,
while below, at the mouth of the lake, a grassy,
meadowy valley widens out and extends almost to Truckee.
The body of water is three miles long, one and a half miles
wide, and four hundred and eighty-three feet in depth.
Tourists and picnic parties annually flock to its shores, and
Bierstadt has made it the subject of one of his finest, grand-
est paintings. In summer, its willowy thickets, its groves of
tamarack and forests of pine, are the favorite haunts and nest-
ing places of the quail and grouse. Beautiful, speckled mount-
ain trout plentifully abound in its crystalline waters. A rippling
breeze usually wimples and dimples its laughing surface, but
in calmer moods it reflects, as in a polished mirror, the lofty,
1 6 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
overhanging mountains, with every stately pine, bounding
rivulet, blossoming shrub, waving fern, and — high above all,
on the right — the clinging, thread-like line of the snow-sheds
of the Central Pacific. When the railroad was being con-
structed, three thousand people dwelt on its shores; the sur-
rounding forests resounded with the music of axes and saws,
and the terrific blasts exploded in the lofty, o'ershadowing
cliffs, filled the canyons with reverberating thunders, and
hurled huge bowlders high in the air over the lake's quiver-
ing bosom.
In winter it is almost as popular a pleasure resort as dur-
ing the summer. The jingling of sleighbells, and the shouts
and laughter of skating parties, can be heard almost con-
stantly. The lake forms the grandest skating park on the
Pacific Coast.
Yet this same Donner Lake was the scene of one of the
most thrilling, heart-rending tragedies ever recorded in Cali-
fornia history. Interwoven with the very name of the lake
are memories of a tale of destitution, loneliness, and despair,
which borders on the incredible. It is a tale that has been
repeated in many a miner's cabin, by many a hunter's camp-
fire, and in many a frontiersman's home, and everywhere it
has been listened to with bated breath.
The pioneers of a new country are deserving of a niche in
the country's history. The pioneers who became martyrs to
the cause of the development of an almost unknown land,
deserve to have a place in the hearts of its inhabitants. The
far-famed Donner Party were, in a peculiar sense, pioneer
martyrs of California. Before the discovery of gold, before
the highway across the continent was fairly marked out,
while untold dangers lurked by the wayside, and unnumbered
foes awaited the emigrants, the Donner Party started for Cali-
fornia. None but the brave and venturesome, none but the
ELIZA P. DONNER.
(Mrs. S. O. Houghton.)
ORGANIZATION OF THE PARTY. I/
energetic and courageous, could undertake such a journey.
In 1846, comparatively few had dared attempt to cross the
almost unexplored plains which lay between the Mississippi
and the fair young land called California. Hence it is that
a certain grandeur, a certain heroism seems to cling about
the men and women composing this party, even from the day
they began their perilous journey across the plains. Cali-
fornia, with her golden harvests, her beautiful homes, her
dazzling wealth, and her marvelous commercial facilities, may
well enshrine the memory of these noble-hearted pioneers,
pathfinders, martyrs.
The States along the Mississippi were but sparsely settled in
1846, yet the fame of the fruitfulness, the healthfulness, and
the almost tropical beauty of the land bordering the Pacific,
tempted the members of the Donner Party to leave their
homes. These homes were situated in Illinois, Iowa, Ten-
nessee, Missouri, and Ohio. Families from each of these
States joined the train and participated in its terrible fate; yet
the party proper was organized in Sangamon County, Illinois,
by George and Jacob Donner and James F. Reed. Early in
April, 1846, the party set out from Springfield, Illinois, and
by the first week in May reached Independence, Missouri.
Here the party was increased by additional members, and the
train comprised about one hundred persons.
Independence was on the frontier in those days, and every
care was taken to have ample provisions laid in and all neces-
sary preparations made for the long journey. Ay, it was a
long journey for many in the party! Great as was the
enthusiasm and eagerness with which these noble-hearted
pioneers caught up the cry of the times, "Ho! for Califor-
nia!" it is doubtful if presentiments of the fate to be en-
countered were not occasionally entertained. The road was
difficult, and in places almost unbroken; warlike Indians
l8 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
guarded the way, and death, in a thousand forms, hovered
about their march through the great wilderness.
In the party were aged fathers with their trusting families
about them, mothers whose very lives were wrapped up in
their children, men in the prime and vigor of manhood,
maidens in all the sweetness and freshness of budding woman-
hood, children full of glee and mirthfulness, and babes nest-
ling on maternal breasts. Lovers there were, to whom the
journey was tinged with rainbow hues of joy and happiness,
and strong, manly hearts whose constant support and en-
couragement was the memory of dear ones left behind in
home-land. The cloud of gloom which finally settled down
in a death-pall over their heads was not yet perceptible,
though, as we shall soon see, its mists began to collect al-
most at the outset, in the delays which marked the journey.
The wonderment which all experience in viewing the
scenery along the line of the old emigrant road was pecul-
iarly vivid to these people. Few descriptions had been given
of the route, and all was novel and unexpected. In later
years the road was broadly and deeply marked, and good
camping grounds were distinctly indicated. The bleaching
bones of cattle that had perished, or the broken fragments of
wagons or cast-away articles, were thickly strewn on either
side of the highway. But in 1846 the way was through al-
most trackless valleys waving with grass, along rivers where
few paths were visible, save those made by the feet of buf-
faloes and antelope, and over mountains and plains where
little more than the westward course of the sun guided the
travelers. Trading-posts were stationed at only a few widely
distant points, and rarely did the party meet with any human
beings, save wandering bands of Indians. Yet these first days
are spoken of by all of the survivors as being crowned with
peaceful enjoyment and pleasant anticipations. There were
n?
A MAMMOTH TRAIN. 19
beautiful flowers by the roadside, an abundance of game in
the meadows and mountains, and at night there were singing,
dancing, and innocent plays. Several musical instruments,
and many excellent voices, were in the party, and the kind-
liest feeling and good-fellowship prevailed among the mem-
bers.
The formation of the company known as the Donner Party
was purely accidental. The union of so many emigrants
into one train was not occasioned by any preconcerted ar-
rangement. Many composing the Donner Party were not
aware, at the outset, that such a tide of emigration was
sweeping to California. In many instances small parties
would hear of the mammoth train just ahead of them or just
behind them, and by hastening their pace, or halting for a
few days, joined themselves to the party. Many were with
the train during a portion of the journey, but from some
cause or other became parted from the Donner company
before reaching Donner Lake. Soon after the train left In-
dependence it contained between two and three hundred
wagons, and when in motion was two miles in length.
With much bitterness and severity it is alleged by some of
the survivors of the dreadful tragedy that certain impostors
and falsifiers claim to have been members of the Donner
Party, and as such have written untruthful and exaggerated
accounts of the sufferings of the party. While this is un-
questionably true, it is barely possible that some who assert
membership found their claim upon the fact that during a
portion of the journey they were really in the Donner Party.
Bearing this in mind, there is less difficulty in reconciling the
conflicting statements of different narrators.
The members of the party proper numbered ninety, and
were as follows :
George Donner, Tamsen Donner (his wife), Elitha C. Don-
20 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ner, Leanna C. Donner, Frances E. Donmer, Georgia A. Don-
ner and Eliza P. Donner. The last three were children of
George and Tamsen Donner; Elitha and Leanna were chil-
dren of George Donner by a former wife.
Jacob Donner, Elizabeth Donner (his wife), Solomon Hook,
William Hook, George Donner, Jr., Mary M. Donner, Isaac
Donner, Lewis Donner and Samuel Donner. Jacob Donner
was a brother of George ; Solomon and William Hook were
sons of Elizabeth Donner by a former husband.
James Frazier Reed, Margaret W. Reed (his wife), Vir-
ginia E. Reed, Martha F. (Patty) Reed, James F. Reed, Jr.,
Thomas K. Reed, and Mrs. Sarah Keyes, the mother of Mrs.
Reed.
The two Donner families and the Reeds were from Spring-
field, Illinois. From the same place were Baylis Williams
and his half-sister Eliza Williams, John Denton, Milton El-
liott, James Smith, Walter Herron and Noah James.
From Marshall County, Illinois, came Franklin Ward
Graves, Elizabeth Graves (his wife), Mary A. Graves, William
C. Graves, Eleanor Graves, Lovina Graves, Nancy Graves,
Jonathan B. Graves, F. W. Graves, Jr., Elizabeth Graves, Jr.,
Jay Fosdick and Mrs. Sarah Fosdick (n/e Graves). With
this family came John Snyder.
From Keokuk, Lee County, Iowa, came Patrick Breen,
Mrs. Margaret Breen, John Breen, Edward J. Breen, Patrick
Breen, Jr., Simon P. Breen, James F. Breen, Peter Breen, and
Isabella M. Breen. Patrick Dolan also came from Keokuk.
William H. Eddy, Mrs. Eleanor Eddy, James P. Eddy, and
Margaret Eddy came from Belleville, Illinois.
From Tennessee came Mrs. Lavina Murphy, a widow, and
her family, John Landrum Murphy, Mary M. Murphy, Lem-
uel B. Murphy, William G. Murphy, Simon P. Murphy,
William M. Pike, Mrs. Harriet F. Pike (n& Murphy), Naomi
GEORGIA A. DONNER.
(Mrs. W. A. Babcock.)
I879.
KILLED BY THE PAWNEES. 21
L. Pike, and Catherine Pike. Another son-in-law of Mrs.
Murphy, William M. Foster, with his wife, Mrs. Sarah A. C.
Foster, and infant boy George Foster, came from St. Louis,
Missouri.
William McCutchen, Mrs. W. McCutchen, and Harriet Mc-
Cutchen were from Jackson County, Missouri.
Lewis Keseberg, Mrs. Phillipine Keseberg, Ada Keseberg,
and L. Keseberg, Jr., Mr. and Mrs. W'olfinger, Joseph Rhine-
hart, Augustus Spitzer, and Charles Burger, came from Ger-
many.
Samuel Shoemaker came from Springfield, Ohio, Charles
T. Stanton from Chicago, Illinois, Luke Halloran from St. Jo-
seph, Missouri, Mr. Hardcoop from Antwerp, in Belgium,
Antoine from New Mexico. John Baptiste was a Spaniard,
who joined the train near the Santa Fe trail, and Lewis and
Salvador were two Indians, who were sent out from Cali-
fornia by Captain Sutter.
The Breens joined the company at Independence, Missouri,
and the Graves family overtook the train one hundred miles
west of Fort Bridger. Each family, prior to its consolidation
with the train, had its individual incidents. William Trimble,
who was traveling with the Graves family, wras slain by the
Pawnee Indians about fifty miles east of Scott's Bluff. Trim-
ble left a wife and two or three children. The wife and some
of her relatives were so disheartened by this sad bereavement,
and by the fact that many of their cattle were stolen by the
Indians, that they gave up the journey to California, and
turned back to the homes whence they had started.
An amusing incident is related in the Healdsburg (Cal.)
Flag, by Mr. W. C. Graves, of Calistoga, which occurred
soon after his party left St. Joseph, Missouri. It was on the
fourth night out, and Mr. Graves and four or five others were
detailed to stand guard. The constant terror of the emi-
22 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
grants in those days was Indians. Both the Pawnees, the
Sioux, and the Snakes were warlike and powerful, and were
jealous, revengeful, and merciless toward the whites. That
night a fire somehow started in the prairie grass about half a
mile from camp. The west wind, blowing fierce and strong,
carried the flames in great surging gusts through the tall
prairie grass. A resin weed grows in bunches in this part of
the country, generally attaining the height of four or five feet.
The night being very dark, these weeds could be seen stand-
ing between the fire and the guards. As the flames swayed
past the weeds, the impression was very naturally produced
upon the mind of a timid beholder that the weeds were mov-
ing in the opposite direction. This optical illusion caused
some of the guards to believe that the Indians had set fire to
the grass, and were moving in immense numbers between
them and the fire with intent to surround them, stampede the
cattle, and massacre the entire party. The watcher next to
Mr. Graves discovered the enemy, and rushed breathlessly to
his comrade to impart the intelligence. Scarcely had Mr.
Graves quieted him before it was evident that a general alarm
had been spread in the camp. Two other guards had seen
the Indians, and the aroused camp, armed to the teeth,
marched out to give battle to the imaginary foe. It was a
rich joke, and it was some time before those who were scared
heard the last of the resin Indians.
Only once, before reaching Salt Lake, did death invade the
joyous Donner company. It was near the present site of
Manhattan, Kansas, and Mrs. Sarah Keyes was the victim.
This estimable lady was the mother of Mrs. J. F. Reed, and
had reached her four score and ten years. Her aged frame
and feebfe health were not equal to the fatigues and exposure
of the trip, and on the thirtieth of May they laid her tenderly
to rest. She was buried in a coffin carefully fashioned from
A MOTHER'S DEATH. 23
the trunk of a cottonwood tree, and on the brow of a beauti-
ful knoll overlooking the valley. A grand old oak, still
standing, guards the lonely grave of the dear old mother who
was spared the sight of the misery in store for her loved ones.
Could those who performed the last sad rites have caught a
vision of the horrors awaiting the party, they would have
known how good was the God who in mercy took her to
Himself.
CHAPTER II.
Mrs. Donner's Letters — Life on the Plains — An Interesting Sketch — The Outfit
Required — The Platte River — Botanizing — Five Hundred and Eighteen
Wagons for California — Burning /'Buffalo Chips" — The Fourth of July at
Fort Laramie — Indian Discipline — Sioux Attempt to Purchase Mary
Graves — George Donner Elected Captain — Letter of Stanton — Dissension —
One Company Split up into Five — The Fatal Hastings Cut-off— Lowering
Wagons over the Precipice — The First View of Great Salt Lake.
^RESENTING, as they do, an interesting glimpse of
the first portion of the journey, the following letters
are here introduced. They were written by Mrs.
Tamsen Donner, and were published in the Spring-
field (Illinois) Journal. Thanks for copies of these
letters are due to Mrs. Eliza P. Houghton of San Jose, Mrs.
Donner's youngest daughter. Allusions are made in these
letters to botanical researches. Mrs. Donner, C. T. Stanton,
and perhaps one or two others who were prominent actors
in the later history, were particularly fond of botany. Mrs.
Donner made valuable collections of rare flowers and plants.
Her journal, and a full description of the contents of her
botanical portfolios, were to have been published upon her
arrival in California.
Though bearing the same date, the letters here presented
were written at different times. The following appeared in
the Springfield Journal, July 23, 1846:
MRS. DONNER'S LETTERS. 25
NEAR THE JUNCTION OF THE NORTH )
AND SOUTH PLATTE, June 16, 1846. )
MY OLD FRIEND: We are now on the Platte, two hundred
miles from Fort Laramie. Our journey so far has been pleas-
ant, the roads have been good, and food plentiful. The water
for part of the way has been indifferent, but at no time have
our cattle suffered for it. Wood is now very scarce, but
"buffalo chips" are excellent; they kindle quickly and retain
heat surprisingly. We had this morning buffalo steaks
broiled upon them that had the same flavor they would have
had upon hickory coals.
We feel no fear of Indians, our. cattle graze quietly around
our encampment unmolested.
Two or three men will go hunting twenty miles from camp;
and last night two of our men lay out in the wilderness
rather than ride their horses after a hard chase.
Indeed, if I do not experience something far worse than I
have yet done, I shall say the trouble is all in getting started.
Our wagons have not needed much repair, and I can not yet
tell in what respects they could be improved. Certain it is,
they can not be too strong. Our preparations for the jour-
ney might have been in some respects bettered.
Bread has been the principal article of food in our camp.
We laid in 150 pounds of flour and 75 pounds of meat for
each individual, and I fear bread will be scarce. Meat is
abundant. Rice and beans are good articles on the road;
cornmeal, too, is acceptable. Linsey dresses are the most
suitable for children. Indeed, if I had one, it would be ac-
ceptable. There is so cool a breeze at all times on the plains
that the sun does not feel so hot as one would suppose.
We are now four hundred and fifty miles from Independ-
ence. Our route at first was rough, and through a timbered
country, which appeared to be fertile. After striking the
26 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
prairie, we found a first-rate road, and the only difficulty we
have had, has been in crossing the creeks. In that, however,
there has been no danger.
I never could have believed we could have traveled so far
with so little difficulty. The prairie between the Blue and
the Platte rivers is beautiful beyond description. Never have
I seen so varied a country, so suitable for cultivation. Every-
thing was new and pleasing; the Indians frequently come to
see us, and the chiefs of a tribe breakfasted at our tent this
morning. All are so friendly that I can not help feeling sym-
pathy and friendship for them. But on one sheet what can
I say?
Since we have been on the Platte, we have had the river on
one side and the ever varying mounds on the other, and have
traveled through the bottom lands from one to two miles
wide, with little or no timber. The soil is sandy, and last
year, on account of the dry season, the emigrants found grass
here scarce. Our cattle are in good order, and when proper
care has been taken, none have been lost. Our milch cows
have been of great service, indeed. They have been of
more advantage than our meat. We have plenty of butter
and milk.
We are commanded by Captain Russell, an amiable man.
George Donner is himself yet. He crows in the morning
and shouts out, " Chain up, boys — chain up," with as much
authority as though he was "something in particular." John
Denton is still with us. We find him useful in the camp.
Hiram Miller and Noah James are in good health and doing
well. We have of the best people in our company, and some,
too, that are not so good.
Buffaloes show themselves frequently.
We have found the wild tulip, the primrose, the lupine, the
eardrop, the larkspur, and creeping hollyhock, and a beauti-
FOURTH OF JULY AT FORT LARAMIE. 2/
ful flower resembling the bloom of the beech tree, but in
bunches as large as a small sugar-loaf, and of every variety
of shade, to red and green.
I botanize, and read some, but cook "heaps" more. There
are four hundred and twenty wagons, as far as we have
heard, on the road between here and Oregon and California.
Give our love to all inquiring friends. God bless them.
Yours, truly,
MRS. GEORGE DONNER.
VG, >-
1846. )
The following letter was published in the Journal of July
30, 1846:
SOUTH FORK OF THE NEBRASKA,
TEN MILES FROM THE CROSSING
TUESDAY, June 16,
DEAR FRIEND : To-day, at nooning, there passed, going to
the States, seven men from Oregon, who went out last year.
One of them was well acquainted with Messrs. Ide and Cad-
den Keyes, the latter of whom, he says, went to California.
They met the advance Oregon caravan about 150 miles west
of Fort Laramie, and counted in all, for Oregon and Califor-
nia (excepting ours), 478 wagons. There are in our company
over 40 wagons, making 518 in all, and there are said to be
yet 20 behind. To-morrow we cross the river, and, by reck-
oning, will be over 200 miles from Fort Laramie, where we
intend to stop and repair our wagon wheels. They are nearly
all loose, and I am afraid we will have to stop sooner, if there
can be found wood suitable to heat the tires. There is no
wood here, and our women and children are out now gather-
ing "buffalo chips" to burn, in order to do the cooking.
These chips burn well.
MRS. GEORGE DONNER.
At Fort Laramie a portion of the Donner Party celebrated
the Fourth of July, 1846. Arriving there on the evening of
28 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
the third, they pitched camp somewhat earlier than usual,
and prepared a grand dinner for the Fourth. At the Fort
were a large party of Sioux who were on the war-path
against the Snakes or Pawnees. The Sioux were, perhaps,
the most warlike Indian nation on the great prairies, and
when dressed in their war paint and mounted on their fleet
ponies, presented a truly imposing appearance. The utmost
friendliness prevailed, and there was a mutual interchange of
gifts and genial courtesies. When the Donner Party pur-
sued their march, and had journeyed half a day from the
Fort, they were overtaken and convoyed quite a distance by
about three hundred young warriors. The escort rode in
pairs alongside the train in true military fashion. Finally
halting, they opened ranks, and as the wagons passed, each
warrior held in his mouth a green twig or leaf, which was
said to be emblematic of peacefulness and good feeling.
The train was never seriously molested by the Sioux. On
one occasion, about fifty warriors on horseback surrounded
a portion of the train, in which was the Graves family.
While generally friendly, a few of the baser sort persisted in
attempting to steal, or take by force, trivial articles which
struck their fancy. The main body of Indians were en-
camped about half a mile away, and when the annoyances
became too exasperating, W. C. Graves mounted a horse,
rode to the encampment, and notified the Chief of the action
of his followers. Seizing an old-fashioned single-barreled
shotgun, the Chief sprang upon his horse and fairly flew over
the plain toward the emigrant wagons. When within about
a hundred yards of the train he attracted attention by giving
an Indian whoop, which was so full of rage and imprecation
that the startled warriors forthwith desisted from their petty
persecutions and scattered in every direction like frightened
quail. One of the would-be marauders was a little tardy in
GEORGE DONNER ELECTED CAPTAIN. 2Q
mounting his pony, and as soon as the Chief got within
range, the shotgun was leveled and discharged full at the
unruly subject. Three of the buckshot entered the pony's
side and one grazed the warrior's leg. As if satisfied that
his orders to treat the emigrants in a friendly manner would
not be again disregarded, the Chief wheeled his horse about,
and in the most grave and stately manner rode back to his
encampment.
On another occasion, Mary Graves, who was a very beau-
tiful young lady, was riding on horseback accompanied by
her brother. They were a little in the rear of the train, and
a band of Sioux Indians, becoming enamored with the
maiden, offered to purchase her. They made very hand-
some offers, but the brother not being disposed to accept,
one of the Indians seized the bridle of the girl's horse and
attempted to carry her away captive. Perhaps the attempt
was made in half jest. At all events the bridle was promptly
dropped when the brother leveled his rifle at the savage.
On the twentieth of July, 1846, George Donner was elected
Captain of the train at the Little Sandy River. From that
time forward it was known as the Donner Party.
One incident, not at all unusual to a trip across the plains,
is pointedly described in a letter written by C. T. Stanton to
his brother, Sidney Stanton, now of Cazenovia, New York.
The incident alluded to is the unfriendliness and want of
harmony so liable to exist between different companies, and
between members of the same company. From one of Mr.
Stanton's letters the following extract is made :
"At noon we passed Boggs' company on the Sweetwater;
a mile further up the river, Dunlavy's ; a mile further, West's ;
and about two miles beyond that, was Dunbar's. We en-
camped about half way between the two latter. Thus,
within five miles were encamped five companies. At Indian
3O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Creek, twenty miles from Independence, these five companies
all constituted one, but owing to dissensions and quarreling
they became broken into fragments. Now, by accident, we
all again once more meet and grasp the cordial hand ; old
enmities are forgot, and nothing but good feeling prevails.
***** -pkg nexj- morning we got rather a late start,
owing to a difference of opinion arising in our company as
to whether we should lie by or go ahead. Those wishing
to lie by were principally young men who wished to have a
day's hunting among the buffaloes, and there were also a few
families out of meat who wished to lay in a supply before
they left the buffalo country. A further reason was urged
that the cattle were nearly fagged out by hard travel, and
that they would not stand the journey unless we stopped
and gave them rest. On the other side it was contended
that if we stopped here the other companies would all get
ahead, the grass would all be eaten off by their thousand
head of cattle, and that consequently, when we came along,
our cattle would starve. The go-ahead party finally ruled
and we rolled out."
As will presently be seen, the dissension existing in the
company, and the petty differences of opinion and interest,
were the fundamental causes of the calamities which befell
the Donner Party.
When the company was near Fort Bridger, Edward Breen's
leg was broken by a fall from a horse. His mother refused
to permit amputation, or rather left the question to Edward's
decision, and of course, boy-like, he refused to have the
operation performed. Contrary to expectation, the bone
knitted, and in a month he walked without a crutch.
At Fort Bridger, which was at this time a mere camp or
trading post, the party heard much commendation bestowed
upon a new route via Salt Lake. This route passed along
THE FATAL HASTINGS CUT-OFF. 31
the southern shore of the Lake, and rejoined the old Fort-
Hall emigrant road on the Humboldt. It was said to shorten
the distance three hundred miles. The new route was known
as the Hastings Cut-off, and was named after the famous
Lansford W. Hastings, who was even then piloting a small
company over the cut-off. The large trains delayed for three
or four days at Fort Bridger, debating as to the best course
to pursue. It is claimed that but for the earnest advice and
solicitation of Bridger and Vasquez, who had charge of the
fort, the entire party would have continued by the accus-
tomed route. These men had a direct interest in the Hast-
ings Cut-off, as they furnished the emigrants with supplies,
and had employed Hastings to pilot the first company over
the road to Salt Lake.
After mature deliberation, the party divided, the greater
portion going by Fort Hall and reaching California in safety.
With the large train, which journeyed the old road, this nar-
rative is no longer interested. Eighty-seven persons, how-
ever, took the Hastings Cut-off. Their names are included
in the ninety mentioned in the preceding chapter, it being
remembered that Mrs. Sarah Keyes had died, and that Lewis
and Salvador were not yet members of the party. For sev-
eral days the party traveled without much difficulty. They
reached Weber River near the head of the well-known Weber
Canyon. At the first crossing of this river, on the third of
August, they found a letter from Hastings stuck in the split
of a stick, informing them that the road down the Weber
Canyon was in a terrible condition, and that it was doubtful if
the sixty-six wagons which L. W. Hastings was then piloting
through the canyon would ever succeed in reaching the plain.
In the letter, Hastings advised all emigrants to avoid the
canyon road, and pursue over the mountains a course which
he faintly outlined. In order to obtain further information,
32 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and, if possible, to induce Hastings to return and act as
guide, Messrs. Reed, Stanton, and Pike were sent forward to
overtake the advance company. This was accomplished after
a fatiguing trip, which so exhausted the horses of Stanton
and Pike that these gentlemen were unable to return to the
Donner Party. Hastings was overtaken at a point near the
southern end of Great Salt Lake, and came back with Reed
to the foot of the bluffs overlooking the present city of Salt
Lake. Here he declared that he must return to the company
he was piloting, and despite the urgent entreaties of Reed,
decided that it was his duty to start back the next morning.
He finally consented, however, to ascend to the summit of
the Wahsatch Mountains, from which he endeavored, as best
he could, to point out the direction in which the wagons
must travel from the head of Weber Canyon. Reed pro-
ceeded alone on the route indicated, taking notes of the
country and occasionally blazing trees to assist him in re-
tracing the course.
Wm. G. Murphy (now of Marysville, Cal.) says that the wag-
ons remained in the meadows at the head of Weber Canyon
until Reed's return. They then learned that the train which
preceded them had been compelled to travel very slowly down
the Weber River, filling in many irregular places with brush
and dirt; that at last they had reached a place where vast
perpendicular pillars of rock approached so closely on either
side that the river had barely space to flow between, and just
here the water plunged over a precipice. To lower the wag-
ons down this precipice had been a dreadful task.
The Donner Party unanimously decided to travel across
the mountains in a more direct line toward Salt Lake. They
soon found rolling highlands and small summit valleys on
the divide between Weber River and Salt Lake. Following
down one of the small streams, they found a varying, irregu-
FIRST VIEW OF GREAT SALT LAKE. 33
r canyon, down which they passed, filling its small stream
ith brush and rocks, crossing and recrossing it, making
>ads, breaking and mending wagons, until three weeks' time
id expired. The entire country was heavily covered with
mber and underbrush. When the party arrived at the out-
t of this stream into Salt Lake Valley, they found it utterly
^passable. It was exceedingly narrow, and was filled with
ugc rocks from the cliffs on cither side. Almost all the
sen in the train were necessary in drawing each wagon out
F the canyon and up the steep overhanging mountain,
/hile in this canyon, Stanton and Pike came up to the com-
iny. These gentlemen encountered great hardships after
icir horses gave out, and were almost starved to death when
icy reached the train.
Instead of reaching Salt Lake in a week, as had been
remised, the party were over thirty days in making the trip,
'o words can describe what they endured on this Hastings
ut-off. The terrible delay was rendering imminent the dan-
srs which awaited them on the Sierra Nevada. At last,
pon ascending the steep rugged mountain before mentioned,
le vision of Great Salt Lake, and the extensive plains sur-
)unding it, burst upon their enraptured gaze. All were wild
ith joy and gratitude for their deliverance from the terrible
ruggle through which they had just passed, and all hoped
>r a prosperous, peaceful journey over pleasant roads through-
lit the remainder of the trip to California. Alas! there were
ials in the way compared with which their recent struggles
•ere insignificant. But for the fatal delay caused by the
tastings Cut-off, all would have been well, but now the sum-
icr was passed, their teams and themselves were well-nigh
xhausted, and their slender stock of provisions nearly con-
jmed.
CHAPTER III
A Grave of Salt— Members of the Mystic Tie— Twenty Wells— A Desolate
Alkaline Waste — Abandoned on the Desert — A Night of Horror — A Steer
Maddened by Thirst — The Mirage — Yoking an Ox and a Cow — "Cacheing"
Goods— The Emigrant's Silent Logic— A Cry for Relief— Two Heroic Vol-
unteers — A Perilous Journey — Letters to Capt. Sutter.
the southern shore of great Salt Lake the Don-
ner Party encamped on the third or fourth of Sep-
tember, 1 846. The summer had vanished, and autumn
had commenced tinting, with crimson and gold, the
foliage on the Wahsatch Mountains. While en-
camped here, the party buried the second victim claimed by
death. This time it was a poor consumptive named Luke Hal-
loran. Without friend or kinsman, Halloran had joined the
train, and was traveling to California in hopes that a change
of climate might effect a cure. Alas! for the poor Irishman,
when the leaves began to fall from the trees his spirit winged
its flight to the better land. He died in the wagon of Cap-
tain George Donner, his head resting in Mrs. Tamsen Don-
ner's lap. It was at sundown. The wagons had just halted
for the night. The train had driven up slowly, out of respect
to the dying emigrant. Looking up into Mrs. Donner's face,
he said: "I die happy." Almost while speaking, he died.
In return for the many kindnesses he had received during the
TWENTY WELLS. 35
journey, he left Mr. Donner such property as he possessed,
including about fifteen hundred dollars in coin. Hon. Jas. F.
Breen, of South San Juan, writes : " Halloran's body was
buried in a bed of almost pure salt, beside the grave of one
who had perished in the preceding train. It was said at the
time that bodies thus deposited would not decompose, on ac-
count of the preservative properties of the salt. Soon after
his burial, his trunk was opened, and Masonic papers and
regalia bore witness to the fact that Mr. Halloran was a mem-
ber of the Masonic Order. James F. Reed, Milton Elliott,
and perhaps one or two others in the train, also belonged to
the mystic tie."
On the sixth day of September they reached a meadow in
a valley called " Twenty Wells," as there were that number of
wells of various sizes, from six inches to several feet in diam-
eter. The water in these wells rose even, with the surface
of the ground, and when it was drawn out the wells soon re-
filled. The water was cold and pure, and peculiarly welcome
after the saline plains and alkaline pools they had just passed.
Wells similar to these were found during the entire journey
of the following day, and the country through which they
were passing abounded in luxuriant grass. Reaching the
confines of the Salt Lake Desert, which lies southwest of the
lake, they laid in, as they supposed, an ample supply of water
and grass. This desert had been represented by Bridger and
Vasquez as being only about fifty miles wide. Instead, for a
distance of seventy-five miles there was neither water nor
grass, but everywhere a dreary, desolate, alkaline waste.
Verily, it was
"A region of drought, where no river glides,
Nor rippling brook with osiered sides;
Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount,
Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty mount
36 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Appears to refresh the aching eye,
But the barren earth and the burning sky,
And the blank horizon round and round
Spread, void of living sight or sound. "
When the company had been on the desert two nights and
one day, Mr. Reed volunteered to go forward, and, if possible,
to discover water. His hired teamsters were attending to his
teams and wagons during his absence. At a distance of per-
haps twenty miles he found the desired water, and hastened
to return to the train. Meantime there was intense suffering
in the party. Cattle were giving out and lying down help-
lessly on the burning sand, or frenzied with thirst were
straying away into the desert. Having made preparations for
only fifty miles of desert, several persons came near perish-
ing of thirst, and cattle were utterly powerless to draw the
heavy wagons. Reed was gone some twenty hours. Dur-
ing this time his teamsters had done the wisest thing possi-
ble, unhitched the oxen and started to drive them ahead until
water was reached. It was their intention, of course, to re-
turn and get the three wagons and the family, which they had
necessarily abandoned on the desert. Reed passed his team-
sters during the night, and hastened to the relief of his
deserted family. One of his teamster's horses gave out be-
fore morning and lay down, and while the man's companions
were attempting to raise him, the oxen, rendered unmanage-
able by their great thirst, disappeared in the desert. There
were eighteen of these oxen. It is probable they scented
water, and with the instincts of their nature started out to
search for it. They never were found, and Reed and his fam-
ily, consisting of nine persons, were left destitute in the midst
of the desert, eight hundred miles from California. Near
morning, entirely ignorant of the calamity which had be-
fallen him in the loss of his cattle, he reached his family.
A NIGHT OF HORROR. 37
All day long they looked and waited in vain for the return-
ing teamsters. All the rest of the company had driven
ahead, and the majority had reached water. Toward night
the situation grew desperate. The scanty supply of water
left with the family was almost gone, and another day on the
desert would mean death to all he held dear. Their only way
left was to set out on foot. He took his youngest child in
his arms, and the family started to walk the twenty miles.
During this dreadful night some of the younger children be-
came so exhausted that, regardless of scoldings or encourage-
ments, they lay down on the bleak sands. Even rest, how-
ever, seemed denied the little sufferers, for a chilling wind be-
gan sweeping over the desert, and despite their weariness and
anguish, they were forced to move forward. At one time
during the night the horror of the situation was changed to
intense fright. Through the darkness came a swift-rushing
animal, which Reed soon recognized as one of his young
steers. It was crazed and frenzied with thirst, and for some
moments seemed bent upon dashing into the frightened
group. Finally, however, it plunged madly away into the
night, and was seen no more. Reed suspected the calamity
which had prevented the return of the teamsters, but at the
moment, the imminent peril surrounding his wife and chil-
dren banished all thought of worrying about anything but
their present situation. God knows what would have be-
come of them had they not, soon after daylight, discovered
the wagon of Jacob Donner. They were received kindly by
his family, and conveyed to where the other members of the
party were camped. For six or eight days the entire com-
pany remained at this spot. Every effort was made to find
Reed's lost cattle. Almost every man in the train was out in
the desert, searching in all directions. This task was at-
tended with both difficulty and danger; for when the sun
38 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
shone, the atmosphere appeared to distort and magnify ob-
jects so that at the distance of a mile every stone or bush
would appear the size of an ox. Several of the men came
near dying for want of water during this search. The desert
mirage disclosed against the horizon, clear, distinct, and per-
fectly outlined rocks, mountain peaks, and tempting lakelets.
Each jagged cliff, or pointed rock, or sharply-curved hill-top,
hung suspended in air as perfect and complete as if photo-
graphed on the sky. Deceived, deluded by these mirages,
in spite of their better judgment, several members of the
company were led far out into the pathless depths of the
desert.
The outlook for Reed was gloomy enough. One cow and
one ox were the only stock he had remaining. The com-
pany were getting exceedingly impatient over the long delay,
yet be it said to their honor, they encamped on the western
verge of the desert until every hope of finding Reed's cattle
was abandoned. Finally, F. W. Graves and Patrick Breen
each lent an ox to Mr. Reed, and by yoking up his remain-
ing cow and ox, he had two yoke of cattle. " Cacheing," or
concealing such of his property on the desert, as could not
be placed in one wagon, he hitched the two yoke of cattle to
this wagon and proceeded on the journey. The word cache
occurs so frequently in this history that a brief definition of
the interesting process of cacheing might not be amiss. The
cache of goods or valuables was generally made in a wagon
bed, if one, as in the present instance, was to be abandoned.
A square hole, say six feet in depth, was dug in the earth,
and in the bottom of this the box or wagon bed containing
the articles was placed. Sand, soil, or clay of the proper
stratum was filled in upon this, so as to just cover the box
from sight. The ground was then tightly packed or tram-
pled, to make it resemble, as much as possible, the earth in its
TWO HEROIC VOLUNTEERS. 39
natural state. Into the remaining hole would be placed such
useless articles as could be spared, such as old tins, cast-ofT
clothing, broken furniture, etc., and upon these the earth was
thrown until the surface of the ground was again level.
These precautions were taken to prevent the Indians from
discovering and appropriating the articles cached. It was
argued that the Indians, when digging down, would come to
the useless articles, and not thinking there was treasure fur-
ther down would abandon the task. " But," says Hon. James
F. Breen, in speaking on this subject, "I have been told by
parties who have crossed the plains, that in no case has the
Indian been deceived by the emigrant's silent logic." The
Indians would leave nothing underground, not even the dead
bodies buried from time to time. One of the trains in ad-
vance of the Donner Party buried two men in one grave, and
succeeding parties found each of the bodies unearthed, and
were compelled to repeat the last sad rites of burial.
Before the Donner Party started from the Desert camp, an
inventory of the provisions on hand was accurately taken,
and an estimate was made of the quantity required for each
family, and it was found that there was not enough to carry
the emigrants through to California. As if to render more
emphatic the terrible situation of the party, a storm came
during their last night at the camp, and in the morning the
hill-tops were white with snow. It was a dreadful reminder
of the lateness of the season, and the bravest hearts quailed
before the horrors they knew must await them. A solemn
council was held. It was decided that some one must leave
the train, press eagerly forward to California, and obtaining
a supply of provisions, return and meet the party as far back
on the route as possible. It was a difficult undertaking, and
perilous in the extreme. A call was made for volunteers, and
after a little reflection two men offered their services. One
4O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
was Wm. McCutchen, who had joined the train from Mis-
souri, and the other was C. T. Stanton, of Chicago, a man
who afterwards proved himself possessed of the sublimest
heroism. Taking each a horse, they received the tearful,
prayerful farewells of the doomed company, and set out
upon their solitary journey.
Would they return ? If they reached the peaceful, golden
valleys of California, would they turn back to meet danger,
and storms, and death, in order to bring succor to those on
the dreary desert? McCutchen might come, because he left
dear ones with the train, but would Stanton return ? Stanton
was young and unmarried. There were no ties or obliga-
tions to prompt his return, save his plighted word and the
dictates of honor and humanity.
They bore letters from the Donner Party to Captain Sut-
ter, who was in charge at Sutter's Fort. These letters were
prayers for relief, and it was believed would secure assistance
from the generous old Captain. Every eye followed Stanton
and McCutchen until they disappeared in the west. Soon
aftenvard the train resumed its toilsome march.
CHAPTER IV.
Gravelly Ford — The Character of James F. Reed — Causes Which Led to the
Reed-Snyder Tragedy — John Snyder's Popularity — The Fatal Altercation —
Conflicting Statements of Survivors — Snyder's Death — A Brave Girl — A
Primitive Trial — A Court of Final Resort — Verdict of Banishment — A Sad
Separation — George and Jacob Donner Ahead at the Time — Finding Letters
in Split Sticks — Danger of Starvation.
^RAVELLY FORD, on the Humboldt River, wit-
nessed a tragedy which greatly agitated the com-
pany. Its results, as will be seen, materially affected
the lives not only of the participants, but of several
members of the party during the days of horror on
the mountains, by bringing relief which would otherwise
have been lacking. The parties to the tragedy were James
F. Reed and John Snyder. Reed was a man who was
tender, generous, heroic, and whose qualities of true nobility
shone brilliantly throughout a long life of useful-ness. His
name is intimately interwoven with the history of the Don-
ner Party, from first to last. Indeed, in the Illinois papers of
1846-7 the company was always termed the "Reed and
Donner Party." This title was justly conferred at the time,
because he was one of the leading spirits in the organization
of the enterprise. In order to understand the tragedy which
produced the death of John Snyder, and the circumstances
42 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
resulting therefrom, the reader must become better acquainted
with the character of Mr. Reed.
The following brief extract is from " Powers' Early Settlers
of Sangamon County:" "James Frazier Reed was born
November 14, 1800, in County Armagh, Ireland. His an-
cestors were of noble Polish birth, who chose exile rather
than submission to the Russian power, and settled in the
north of Ireland. The family name was originally Reed-
noski, but in process of time the Polish termination of the
name was dropped, and the family was called Reed. James
F. Reed's mother's name was Frazier, whose ancestofs be-
longed to Clan Frazier, of Scottish history. Mrs. Reed and
her son, James F., came to America when he was a youth,
and settled in Virginia. He remained there until he was
twenty, when he left for the lead mines of Illinois, and was
engaged in mining until 1831, when he came to Springfield,
Sangamon County, Illinois."
Among the papers of Mr. Reed is a copy of the muster
roll of a company which enlisted in the Blackhawk war, and
in this roll are the names of Abraham Lincoln, Stephen A.
Douglas, and James F. Reed. At the termination of this
war, Mr. Reed returned to Springfield, engaged in the manu-
facture of cabinet furniture, and amassed a considerable
fortune. He was married in 1835 to Mrs. Margaret Back-
enstoe, whose maiden name was Keyes. The death of his
wife's mother, Mrs. Sarah Keyes, has already been men-
tioned as occurring on the Big Blue River, near Manhattan,
Kansas.
During the progress of the train, Mr. Reed was always
a prominent, active member. Full of life and enthusiasm,
fearless of danger, he was ready at all times to risk his life
for the company's welfare. On the desert, we have seen that
THE CHARACTER OF JAMES F. REED. 43
his lonely expedition in search of water cost him his valuable
oxen, and left him and his family almost destitute.
The deplorable affair about to be narrated was only the
natural outgrowth of the trying circumstances in which the
company were placed. The reader must bear in mind that
many petty causes combined to produce discord and dis-
sension among the members of the Donner Party. Coming
from so many different States, being of different nationalities
and modes of thought, delayed on the road much longer
than was expected, rendered irritable by the difficulties en-
countered on the journey, annoyed by losses of stock, fearful
of unknown disasters on the Sierra, and already placed on
short allowances of provisions, the emigrants were decidedly
inharmonious.
The action of the company, moreover, was doubtless in-
fluenced in a greater or less degree by Snyder's popularity.
A young man, not over twenty-three years old, he was tall,
straight, and of erect, manly carriage, and his habits of life
as a frontiersman had developed him into a muscular, athletic
being. He excelled and led in all the out-door sports most
in favor with Western men, such as jumping, running, and
wrestling. His manner was gentle, retired, and timid to a
degree verging on bashfulness, until roused by the influence
of passion. The lion in the man was dormant until evoked
by the fiercer emotions. His complexion was dark, but as
you studied his face you could not repress the suspicion that
Nature had marked him for a blonde, and that constant ex-
posure to the wind and sun and rain of the great plains of
the West had wrought the color change, and the conviction
was strong that the change was an improvement on Nature.
His features were cast in a mold of great beauty — such
beauty as we seldom look for in a man. He was never
moody, despondent, or cast down, and at all times, and
44 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
under all circumstances, possessed the faculty of amusing
himself and entertaining others. In the evening camp, when
other amusements failed, or when anticipated troubles de-
pressed the spirits of the travelers, it was his custom to
remove the "hindgate" of his wagon, lay it on the ground,
and thereon perform the " clog dance," " Irish jigs," the
" pigeon wing," and other fantastic steps. Many an evening
the Donner Party were prevented from brooding over their
troubles by the boyish antics of the light-hearted youth.
As stated above, the train had reached Gravelly Ford.
Already the members of the company were beginning to
scan eagerly the western plain in hopes of discovering the
relief which it was believed Stanton and McCutchen would
bring from Sutler's Fort. Of course there w^ere the usual
accidents and incidents peculiar to a journey across the
plains. Occasionally a wagon would need repairing. Occa-
sionally there would be a brief halt to rest and recruit the
jaded cattle. The Indians had stolen two of Mr. Graves'
oxen, and a couple of days later had stolen one of the
horses.
In traveling, the Donner Party observed this rule : If a
wagon drove in the lead one day, it should pass back to the
rear on the succeeding day. This system of alternating
allowed each his turn in leading the train. On this fifth of
October, 1846, F. W. Graves was ahead, Jay Fosdick second,
John Snyder third, and the team of J. F. Reed fourth.
Milton Elliott was driving Reed's team. Arriving at the
foot of a steep, sandy hill, the party was obliged to " double
teams," that is, to hitch five or six yoke of oxen to one
wagon. Elliott and Snyder interchanged hot words over
some difficulty about the oxen. Fosdick had attached his
team to Graves' and had drawn Graves' wagon up the hill.
Snyder, being nettled at something Elliott had said, declared
THE BREEN FAMILY.
PATRICK, SR. 2. MARGARET. 3. JOHN. 4. EDWARD P. 5. PATRICK, JR.
. HMON. 7. JAMES F. 8. PETER. q. BELLA M. 10. WILLIAM M.
THE FATAL ALTERCATION. 45
that his team could pull up alone. During the excitement
Snyder made use of very bad language, and was beating his
cattle over the head with his whip-stock. One account says
that Reed's team and Snyder's became tangled. At all
events, Snyder was very much enraged. Reed had been off
hunting on horseback, and arriving at this moment, remon-
strated with Snyder for beating the cattle, and at the same
time offered him the assistance of his team. Snyder refused
the proffered aid, and used abusive language toward both
Reed and Elliott. Reed attempted to calm the enraged man.
Both men were of fiery, passionate dispositions, and words
began to multiply rapidly. When Reed saw that trouble
was likely to occur, he said something about waiting until
they got up the hill and settling this matter afterwards.
Snyder evidently construed this to be a threat, and with an
oath replied, "We will settle it now." As Snyder uttered
these words, he struck Reed a blow on the head with the
butt-end of his heavy whip-stock. This blow was followed
in rapid succession by a second, and a third. As the third
stroke descended, Mrs. Reed ran between her husband and
the furious man, hoping to prevent the blow. Each time the
whip-stock descended on Reed's head it cut deep gashes.
He was blinded with the blood which streamed from his
wounds, and dazed and stunned by the terrific force of the
blows. He saw the cruel whip-stock uplifted, and knew
that his wife was in danger, but had only time to cry " John !
John !" when down came the stroke full upon Mrs. Reed's
head and shoulders. The next instant John Snyder was
staggering, speechless and death-stricken. Reed's hunting-
knife had pierced his left breast, severing the first and second
ribs and entering the left lung.
No other portion of the History of the Donner Party, as
contributed by the survivors, has been so variously stated
46 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
as this Reed-Snyder affair. Five members of the party, now
living, claim to have been eye-witnesses. The version of
two of these, Mrs. J. M. Murphy and Mrs. Frank Lewis, is
the one here published. In the theory of self-defense they
are corroborated by all the early published accounts. This
theory was first advanced in Judge J. Quinn Thornton's
work in 1849, and has never been disputed publicly until
within the last two or three years. Due deference to the
valuable assistance rendered by Wm. G. Murphy, of Marys-
ville, and W. C. Graves, of Calistoga, demands mention of
the fact that their accounts differ in important respects from
the one given above. This is not surprising in view of the
thirty-three years which have elapsed since the occurrence.
The history of criminal jurisprudence justifies the assertion
that eye-witnesses of any fatal difficulty differ materially in
regard to important particulars, even when their testimony is
taken immediately after the difficulty. It is not strange,
therefore, that after the lapse of an ordinary life-time a dozen
different versions should have been contributed by the sur-
vivors concerning this unfortunate tragedy. James F. Reed,
after nearly a quarter of a century of active public life in
California, died honored and respected. During his life-time
this incident appeared several times in print, and was always
substantially as given in this chapter. With the single ex-
ception of a series of articles contributed to the Healdsburg
Flag by W. C. Graves, two or three years ago, no different
account has ever been published. This explanatory digres-
sion from the narrative is deemed necessary out of respect to
the two gentlemen who conscientiously disagree with Mrs.
Murphy and Mrs. Lewis. On all other important subjects
the survivors are harmonious or reconcilable.
W. C. Graves, now of Calistoga, caught the dying man in
his arms, and in a few minutes he was carried a little way up
SNYDERS DEATH. 47
the hill and laid upon the ground. Reed immediately re-
gretted the act and threw the knife from him. His wife and
daughters gathered about him and began to stanch the
blood that flowed from the gashes on his head. He gently
pushed them aside and went to the assistance of the dying
man. He and Snyder had always been firm friends, and
Snyder had been most active in securing a team for Reed
after the latter had lost his cattle in the desert. Snyder
expired in about fifteen minutes, and Reed remained by his
side until the last. Patrick Breen came up, and Snyder said,
" Uncle Patrick, I am dead." It is not certain that he spoke
again, though Reed's friends claim that he said to Reed, " I
am to blame."
Snyder's death fell like a thunderbolt upon the Donner
Party. Camp was immediately pitched, the Reed family
being a little removed down the hill from the main body
of emigrants. Reed felt that he had only acted in defense
of his own life and in defense of the wife he adored. Never-
theless, it was evident that trouble was brewing in the main
camp where Snyder's body was lying.
The Reed family were in a sad situation. They commenced
the journey with a more costly and complete outfit than the
other emigrants, and thereby had incurred the envy of some
of their less fortunate companions. They had a fine race
horse and good stock, and Virginia had a beautiful pony of
her own, and was fond of accompanying her father on his
horseback excursions. From these and other circumstances
the Reeds had acquired the name of being "aristocratic."
Ordinarily, this is a term which would excite a smile, but
on this dreadful day it had its weight in inflaming the minds
of the excited emigrants. On the desert Reed had cached
many valuable articles, but all his provisions had been dis-
tributed among his companions. This, however, was forgot-
48 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ten in the turbulent camp, and the destitute, desolate family
could plainly catch the sound of voices clamoring for Reed's
death.
Meantime, Virginia Reed was dressing the wounds on her
father's head. Mrs. Reed was overwhelmed with grief and
apprehension, and the father came to Virginia for assistance.
This brave little woman was only twelve years old, yet in this
and all other acts of which there is a record she displayed a
nerve and skillfulness which would have done credit to a
mature woman. The cuts in Reed's scalp were wide and
deep. Indeed, the scars remained to his dying day. In San
Jose, long years afterwards, as James F. Reed lay dead, the
gentle breeze from an open window softly lifted and caressed
his gray hair, disclosing plainly the scars left by these ugly
wounds.
Reed entertained none but the friendliest sentiments toward
Snyder. Anxious to do what he could for the dead, he of-
fered the boards of his wagon-bed from which to make a
coffin for Snyder. This offer, made with the kindliest, most
delicate feeling, was rejected by the emigrants. At the
funeral, Reed stood sorrowfully by the grave until the last
clod was placed above the man who had been one of his best
friends. A council was held by the members of the company.
A council to decide upon Reed's fate. It was in the nature
of a court, all-powerful, from whose decision there was no
appeal. Breathlessly the fond wife and affectionate children
awaited the verdict. The father was idolized by the mother
and the little ones, and was their only stay and support.
The friendship of the Donner Party for John Snyder, the
conflicting and distorted accounts of the tragedy, and the
personal enmity of certain members of the company toward
Reed, resulted in a decree that he should be banished from
the train. The feeling ran so high that at one time the end
VERDICT OF BANISHMENT. 49
of a wagon-tongue was propped up with an ox-yoke by
some of the emigrants with the intention of hanging Reed
thereon, but calmer counsel prevailed.
When the announcement was communicated to Reed that
he was to be banished, he refused to comply with the de-
cree. Conscious that he had only obeyed the sacred law of
self-defense, he refused to accede to an unjust punishment.
Then came the wife's pleadings! Long and earnestly Mrs.
Reed reasoned and begged and prayed with her husband.
All was of no avail until she urged him to remember the
want and destitution in which they and the entire company
were already participants. If he remained and escaped vio-
lence at the hands of his enemies, he might nevertheless see
his children starve before his eyes, and be helpless to aid
them. But if he would go forward, if he would reach Cal-
ifornia, he could return with provisions, and meet them on
the mountains at that point on the route where they would
be in greatest need. It was a fearful struggle, but finally the
mother's counsels prevailed. Prior to setting out upon his
gloomy journey, Mr. Reed made the company promise to
care for his family.
At the time of the Snyder tragedy, George and Jacob Don-
ner, with their wagons and families, were two days in ad-
vance of the main train. Walter Herron was with them,
and, when Reed came up, Herron concluded to accompany
him to California.
It was contemplated that Reed should go out into the
wilderness alone, and with neither food nor ammunition.
Happily this part of the programme was thwarted. The
faithful Virginia, in company with Milton Elliott, fol-
lowed Mr. Reed after he had started, anjd carried him his
gun and ammunition. The affectionate girl also managed
4
5O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
to carry some crackers to him, although she and all the com-
pany were even then on short allowance.
The sad parting between Reed and his family, and the
second parting with the devoted Virginia, we pass over in
silence. James F. Reed, Jr., only five years old, declared
that he would go with his father, and assist him in obtain-
ing food during the long journey. Even the baby, only
two and a half years old, would fret and worry every time
the family sat down to their meals, lest father should find
nothing to eat on his difficult way. Every day the mother
and daughters would eagerly search for the letter Mr. Reed
was sure to leave in the top of some bush, or in a split stick
by the wayside. When he succeeded in killing geese or
ducks, as he frequently did along the Humboldt and
Truckee, he would scatter the feathers about his camping-
ground, that his family might see that he was supplied with
food. It is hardly necessary to mention that Mrs. Reed and
the children regarded the father's camping-places as hal-
lowed ground, and as often as possible kindled their evening
fires in the same spot where his had been kindled.
But a day came when they found no more letters, no fur-
ther traces of the father. Was he dead ? Had the Indians
killed him? Had he starved by the way? No one could
answer, and the mother's cheek grew paler and her dear eyes
grew sadder and more hopeless, until Virginia and Patty
both feared that she, too, was going to leave them.
Anxious, grief-stricken, filled with the belief that her hus-
band was dead, poor Mrs. Reed was fast dying of a broken
heart. But suddenly all her life, and energy, and determina-
tion were again aroused into being by a danger that would
have crushed a nature less noble. A danger that is the
most terrible, horrible, that ever tortured human breast; a
danger — that her children, her babes, must starve to death!
CHAPTER V.
it Hardships — The Sink of the Humboldt — Indians Stealing Cattle — An En-
tire Company Compelled to Walk — Abandoned to Die — Wolfinger Murdered
— Rhinehart's Confession — Arrival of C. T. Stanton — A Temporary Relief—
A Fatal Accident — The Sierra Nevada Mountains — Imprisoned in Snow-
Struggles for Freedom — A Hopeless Situation — Digging for Cattle in Snow
— How the Breen Cabin Happened to be Built — A Thrilling Sketch of a
Solitary Winter — Putting up Shelters — The Donners have Nothing but
Tents— Fishing for Trout.
STARVATION now stared the emigrants in the
face. The shortest allowance capable of supporting
life was all that was portioned to any member of the
company. At times, some were forced to do without
food for a day or more, until game was procured.
The poor cattle were also in a pitiable condition. Owing
to the lateness of the season, the grass was exceedingly
scanty and of a poor quality. Frequently the water was
bad, and filled with alkali and other poisonous deposits.
George Donner, Jacob Donner, Wolfinger, and others, lost
cattle at various points along the Humboldt. Mr. Breen lost
a fine mare. The Indians were constantly hovering around
the doomed train, ready to steal cattle, but too cowardly to
make any open hostile attack. Arrows were shot into sev-
eral of the oxen by Indians who slipped up near them during
the night-time. At midnight, on the twelfth of October, the
52 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
party reached the sink of the Humboldt. The cattle, closely
guarded, were turned out to graze and recruit their wasted
strength. About dawn on the morning of the thirteenth the
guard came into camp to breakfast. During the night noth-
ing had occurred to .cause the least apprehension, and no
indications of Indians had been observed. Imagine the con-
sternation in camp when it was discovered that during the
temporary absence of the guard twenty-one head of cattle
had been stolen by the redskins. This left the company in
terribly destitute circumstances. All had to walk who were
able. Men, women, and children were forced to travel on
foot all day'long, and in many cases were compelled to carry
heavy burdens in grder to lessen the loads drawn by the
weary cattle. Wm. G. Murphy remembers distinctly seeing
his brother carrying a copper camp-kettle upon his head.
The Graves family, the Breens, the Donners, the Murphys,
the Reeds, all walked beside the wagons until overpowered
with fatigue. The men became exhausted much sooner, as
a rule, than the women. Only the sick, the little children,
and the utterly exhausted, were ever allowed to ride. Eddy
and his wife had lost all their cattle, and each carried one of
their children and such personal effects as they were able.
Many in the train were without shoes, and had to travel
barefooted over the weary sands, and flinty, sharp-edged
stones.
On the ninth of October a death had resulted from this
necessity of having to walk. It was a case of desertion,
which, under other circumstances, would have been unpar-
donably heartless. An old man named Hardcoop was travel-
ing with Keseberg. He was a cutler by trade, and had a son
and daughter in the city of Antwerp, in Belgium. It is said
he owned a farm near Cincinnati, Ohio, and intended, after
visiting California, to dispose of this farm, and with the pro-
A THRILLING SKETCH. 53
ceeds return to Antwerp, for the purpose of spending his
declining years with his children. He was a man of nearly
three-score years, and the hardships of the journey had
weakened his trembling limbs and broken down his health.
Sick, feeble, helpless as he was, this old man was compelled
to walk with the others. At last, when his strength gave
way, he was forced to lie down by the roadside to perish of
cold and hunger. Who can picture the agony, the horror,
the dreary desolation of such a death ? The poor old man
walked until his feet actually burst ! — walked until he sank
utterly exhausted by the roadside ! It was a terrible death !
To see the train disappear in the distance ; to know he was
abandoned to die of exposure and starvation ; to think that
the wolves would devour his flesh and gnaw his bones; to
lie down on the great desert, hungry, famished, and com-
pletely prostrated by fatigue — to meet death thus is too
dreadful to contemplate.
No one made any attempt to return and find the poor old
fellow. This, however, is partially excused by the over-
whelming dangers which now threatened the entire com-
pany. Each hour's delay rendered death in the Sierra Nevada
Mountains more imminent.
About the fourteenth of October, beyond the present site
of Wadsworth, another tragedy occurred. Wolfinger, who
was supposed to be quite wealthy, was in the rear of the
train, traveling with Keseberg. At nightfall, neither of the
Germans made his appearance. It happened that both
their wives had walked ahead, and were with the emigrants.
Considering it suspicious that the men did not arrive, and
fearing some evil had befallen them, a party returned to as-
certain the cause of the delay. Before proceeding far, how-
ever, Keseberg was met traveling leisurely along. He as-
sured them that Wolfinger was only a little way behind, and
54 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
would be along in a few moments. Reassured by this in-
formation, the party returned with Keseberg to camp and
awaited the arrival of Wolfinger. The night passed, and the
missing man had not appeared. Mrs. Wolfinger was nearly
frantic. She was a tall, queenly-looking lady, of good birth
and much refinement. She was recently from Germany, and
understood but little English, yet she was evidently a well-
bred lady. Nearly all the survivors remember the elegant
dresses and costly jewelry she wore during the first part of
the journey. Her grief at her husband's disappearance was
so heart-rending that three young men at last consented to
start back in the morning and endeavor to find Wolfinger.
W. C. Graves, from whom this information is obtained, was
one of the three who returned. Five miles back the wagon
was found standing in the road. The oxen had been un-
hitched, but were still chained together, and were quietly
grazing at a little distance. There were no signs of Indians,
but Wolfinger was not to be found. At the time it was
strongly conjectured that Keseberg had murdered Wolfinger
for his money, and had concealed the body. This was doubt-
less unjust, for when Joseph Rhinehart was dying, some weeks
later, in George Donner's tent, he confessed that he (Rhine-
hart) had something to do with the murder of Wolfinger.
The men hitched the oxen to the wagon, and drove on until
they overtook the emigrants, who, owing to the dangers by
which they were encompassed, felt compelled to pursue their
onward journey. The team was given to Mrs. Wolfinger,
and she employed a German by the name of Charles Burger
to drive it thereafter. Little was said about the affair at the
time. Mrs. Wolfinger supposed the Indians had killed her
husband.
On the nineteenth of October, C. T. Stanton was met re-
turning with provisions. The company was near the present
TEMPORARY RELIEF. 55
town of Wadsworth, Nevada. A great rejoicing was held
over the brave man's return. McCutchen had been severely
ill, and was unable to return with Stanton. But the latter,
true to his word, recrossed the Sierra, and met the emi-
grants at a time when they were on the verge of starva-
tion. He had brought seven mules, five of which were
loaded with flour and dried beef. Captain Sutter had fur-
nished these mules and the provisions, together with two
Indian vaqueros, without the slightest compensation or secur-
ity. The Indians, Lewis and Salvador, would assist in caring
for the pack-animals, and would also be efficient guides.
Without Stanton's aid the entire party would have been lost;
not a single soul would have escaped. The provisions,
though scant, were sufficient to entirely alter the situation
of affairs. Had the party pressed immediately forward,
they could have passed the summits before the storms be-
gan. For some cause, however, it was concluded to rest the
cattle for a few days near the present site of Reno, prepara-
tory to attempting to ascend the difficult Sierra. Three or
four days' time was lost. This loss was fatal. The storms
on the mountains generally set in about Thanksgiving, or
during the latter days of November. The emigrants trusted
that the storm season of 1846 would not begin earlier than
usual. Alas! the terrible consequences of this mistaken
trust!
After the arrival of Stanton, it was still deemed necessary
to take further steps for the relief of the train. The gen-
erosity of Captain Sutter, as shown to Stanton, warranted
them in believing that he would send still further supplies to
the needy emigrants. Accordingly, two brothers-in-law, Wil-
liam Foster and William Pike, both brave and daring spirits,
volunteered to go on ahead, cross the summits, and return
with provisions as Stanton had done. Both men had fam-
56 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ilies, and both were highly esteemed in the company. At the
encampment near Reno, Nevada, while they were busily pre-
paring to start, the two men were cleaning or loading a pistol.
It was an old-fashioned " pepper-box." It happened, while
they were examining it, that wood was called for to replenish
the fire. One of the men offered to procure it, and in order
to do so, handed the pistol to the other. Everybody knows
that the "pepper-box" is a very uncertain weapon. Some-
how, in the transfer, the pistol was discharged. William Pike
was fatally wounded, and died in about twenty minutes. Mrs.
Pike was left a widow, with two small children. The young-
est, Catherine, was a babe of only a few months old, and
Naomi was only three years of age. The sadness and dis-
tress occasioned by this mournful accident, cast a gloom over
the entire company, and seemed an omen of the terribJe fate
which overshadowed the Donner Party.
Generally, the ascent of the Sierra brought joy and glad-
ness to weary overland emigrants. To the Donner Party it
brought terror and dismay. The company had hardly ob-
tained a glimpse of the mountains, ere the winter storm
clouds began to assemble their hosts around the loftier crests.
Every day the weather appeared more ominous and threaten-
ing. The delay at the Truckee Meadows had been brief, but
every day ultimately cost a dozen lives. On the twenty-third
of October, they became thoroughly alarmed at the angry
heralds of the gathering storm, and with all haste resumed
the journey. It was too late! At Prosser Creek, three miles
below Truckee, they found themselves encompassed with six
inches of snow. On the summits, the snow was from two to
five feet in depth. This was October 28, 1846. Almost a
month earlier than usual, the Sierra had donned its mantle of
ice and snow. The party were prisoners. All was con-
sternation. The wildest confusion prevailed. In their eager-
STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM. 57
ness, many went far in advance of the main train. There
was little concert of action or harmony of plan. All did not
arrive at Donner Lake the same day. Some wagons and
families did not reach the lake until the thirty-first day of
October, some never went further than Prosser Creek, while
others, on the evening of the twenty-ninth, struggled through
the snow, and reached the foot of the precipitous cliffs be-
tween the summit and the upper end of the lake. Here,
baffled, wearied, disheartened, they turned back to the foot
of the lake.
Several times during the days which succeeded, parties at-
tempted to cross the mountain barrier. W. C. Graves says
the old emigrant road followed up Cold Stream, and so
crossed the dividing ridge. Some wagons were drawn up
this old road, almost to the top of the pass, others were taken
along the north side of Donner Lake, and far up toward the
summit. Some of these wagons never were returned to the
lake, but were left imbedded in the snow. These efforts to
cross the Sierra were quite desultory and irregular, and there
was great lack of harmony and system. Each family or
each little group of emigrants acted independently.
At last, one day> a determined and systematic attempt was
made to cross the summit. Nearly the entire train was en-
gaged in the work. The road, of course, was entirely oblit-
erated by the snow. Guided only by the general contour of
the country, all hands pressed resolutely forward. Here,
large bowlders and irregular jutting cliffs would intercept the
way; there, dizzy precipices, yawning chasms, and deep, ir-
regular canyons would interpose, and anon a bold, impassable
mountain of rock would rear its menacing front directly
across their path. All day long the men and animals floun-
dered through the snow, and attempted to break and trample
a road. Just before nightfall they reached the abrupt preci-
58 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
pice where the present wagon-road intercepts the snow-sheds
of the Central Pacific. Here the poor mules and oxen had
been utterly unable to find a foothold on the slippery, snow-
covered rocks. All that day it had been raining slightly — a
dismal, drizzling, discouraging rain. Most of the wagons
had been left at the lake, and the mules and oxen had been
packed with provisions and necessary articles. Even at this
day some of the survivors are unable to repress a ripple of
merriment as they recall the manner in which the oxen
bucked and bellowed when the unaccustomed packs were
strapped upon their backs. Stanton had stoutly insisted
upon taking the mules over the mountains. Perhaps he did
not wish to return to Capt. Sutter without the property which
he had borrowed. Many in the train dissented from this
proposition, and endeavored to induce the Indians, Lewis and
Salvador, to leave Stanton, and guide them over the summits.
The Indians realized the imminent danger of each hour's
delay, and would probably have yielded to the solicitations
of these disaffected parties, had not Stanton made them be-
lieve that Capt. Sutter would hang them if they returned to
the Fort without the mules. This incident is mentioned to
illustrate the great differences of opinion and interest which
prevailed. Never, from the moment the party encountered
the first difficulties on the Hastings Cut-off until this fatal
night in November, did the members of the company ever
agree upon any important proposition. This night all de-
cided upon a plan for the morrow. The great and over-
whelming danger made them forget their petty animosities,
and united them in one harmonious resolve. On the mor-
row the mules and cattle were all to be slain, and the meat
was to be stored away for future emergency. The wagons,
with their contents, were to be left at the lake, and the entire
party were to cross the summits on foot. Stanton had be-
A HOPELESS SITUATION. 59
come perfectly satisfied that the mules could not reach the
mountain-top, and readily consented to the proposed plan.
Returning to the lake they sought their weary couches,
comforted with the thought that to-morrow should see all
the Donner Party safely over the summit. That night a
heavy snow fell at the lake. It was a night of untold terror !
The emigrants suffered a thousand deaths. The pitiless
snow came down in large, steady masses. All understood
that the storm meant death. One of the Indians silently
wrapped his blanket about him and in deepest dejection
seated himself beside a tall pine. In this position he passed
the entire night, only moving occasionally to keep from
being covered with snow. Mrs. Reed spread down a shawl,
placed her four children, Virginia, Patty, James, and Thomas,
thereon, and putting another shawl over them, sat by the
side of her babies during all the long hours of darkness.
Every little while she was compelled to lift the upper shawl
and shake off the rapidly accumulating snow.
With slight interruptions, the storm continued several days.
The mules and oxen that had always hovered about camp
were blinded and bewildered by the storm, and straying
away were literally buried alive in the drifts. What pen can
describe the horror of the position in which the emigrants
found themselves ! It was impossible to move through the
deep, soft snow without the greatest effort. The mules were
gone, and were never found. Most of the cattle had per-
ished, and were wholly hidden from sight. The few oxen
which were found were slaughtered for beef. All were not
killed during any one day, but the emigrants gave this busi-
ness their immediate attention, because aside from the beef
and a few slight provisions, the entire party were completely
destitute. Mrs. Breen was compelled to attend personally to
the slaughtering of their cattle, because her husband was an
6O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
invalid. This family had by far the largest stock of meat.
Too great praise can not be ascribed to Mrs. Breen for the
care and forethought with which she stored up this food for
her children. The meat was simply laid away in piles, like
cordwood, and by the action of the frost was kept fresh until
consumed. Mrs. Reed had no cattle to kill. She succeeded,
however, in purchasing two beeves from Mr. Graves, and two
from Mr. Breen, pledging herself to pay when the journey
was ended. Mr. Eddy also purchased one ox of Mr. Graves.
The flesh of many of the cattle which strayed away, and
were buried several feet under the snow, was nevertheless re-
covered by their owners. It was soon ascertained that the
cattle had endeavored to seek shelter from the fury of the
storm by getting under the branches of the bushiest trees.
Going to these trees, the emigrants would thrust down long
poles with sharpened nails in the ends of them. By thus
probing about in the snow, the whereabouts of a number of
cattle was discovered, and the bodies were speedily dug out
of the drifts.
Realizing that the winter must be passed in the mountains,
the emigrants made such preparations as they could for
shelter. One cabin was already constructed. It was located
about a quarter of a mile below the foot of the lake. It had
been built in November, 1844, by Moses Schallenberger,
Joseph Foster, and Allen Montgomery. Moses Schallen-
berger now resides three and a half miles from San Jose, and
when recently interviewed by Mrs. S. O. Houghton, nc(e Eliza
P. Donner, gave a very complete and interesting account of
the building of this cabin, and the sufferings endured by his
party. This cabin, known as the Breen cabin, is so intimately
connected and interwoven with future chapters in the History
of the Donner Party, that the following items, taken from Mr.
Schallenberger's narration, can not prove uninteresting :
PUTTING UP SHELTERS. 6 1
" Mr. Schallenberger's party reached Donner Lake about
the middle of November, 1844, having with them a large
quantity of goods for California. Their cattle being very
poor, and much fatigued by the journey, the party decided
to remain here long enough to build a cabin in which to
store their goods until spring. They also decided to leave
some one to look after their stores, while the main portion
of the party would push on to the settlement. Foster,
Montgomery, and Schallenberger built the cabin. Two days
were spent in its construction. It was built of pine saplings,
and roofed with pine brush and rawhides. It was twelve by
fourteen feet, and seven or eight feet high, with a chimney
in one end, built "western style." One opening, through
which light, air, and the occupants passed, served as a window
and door. A heavy fall of snow began the day after the
cabin was completed and continued for a number of days.
Schallenberger, who was only seventeen years old, volun-
teered to remain with Foster and Montgomery. The party
passed on, leaving very little provisions for the encamped.
The flesh of one miserably poor cow was their main depend-
ence, yet the young men were not discouraged. They were
accustomed to frontier life, and felt sure they could provide
for themselves. Bear and deer seemed abundant in the sur-
rounding mountains. Time passed; the snow continued
falling, until it was from ten to fifteen feet deep. The cow
was more than half consumed, and the game had been driven
out of the mountains by the storms.
"The sojourners in that lonely camp became alarmed at
the prospect of the terrible fate which seemed to threaten
them, and they determined to find their way across the moun-
tains. They started and reached the summit the first night
after leaving their camp. Here, young Schallenberger was
taken ill with severe cramps. The following day he was un-
62 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
able to proceed more than a few feet without falling to the
ground. It was evident to his companions that he could go
no farther. They did not like to leave him, nor did they
wish to remain where death seemed to await them. Finally
Schallenberger told them if they would take him back to the
cabin he would remain there and they could. go on. This
they did, and after making him as comfortable as possible,
they bade him good-by, and he was left alone in that moun-
tain wild. A strong will and an unflinching determination to
live through all the threatening dangers, soon raised him
from his bed and nerved him to action. He found some steel
traps among the goods stored, and with them caught foxes,
which constituted his chief or only article of food, until res-
cued by the returning party, March i, 1845."
The Breen family moved into the Schallenberger cabin.
Against the west side of this cabin, Keseberg built a sort of
half shed, into which he and his family entered. The Mur-
phys erected a cabin nearer the lake. The site of this cabin
is plainly marked by a large stone about ten or twelve feet
high, one side of which rises almost perpendicularly from the
ground. Against this perpendicular side the Murphys erected
the building which was to shelter them during the winter.
It was about three hundred yards from the shore of Donner
Lake, and near the wide marshy outlet. The Breen and
Murphy cabins were distant from each other about one hun-
dred and fifty yards. The Graves family built a house close
by Donner Creek, and half or three quarters of a mile further
down the stream. Adjoining this, forming a double cabin,
the Reeds built. The Donner brothers, Jacob and George,
together with their families, camped in Alder Creek Valley,
six or seven miles from Donner Lake. They were, if possi-
ble, in a worse condition than the others, for they had only
brush sheds and their tents to shield them from the wintry
FISHING FOR TROUT. 63
weather. Mrs. John App (Leanna C. Donner), of James-
town, Tuolumne County, writes: "We had no time to build
a cabin. The snow came on so suddenly that we had barely
time to pitch our tent, and put up a brush shed, as it were,
one side of which was open. This brush shed was covered
with pine boughs, and then covered with rubber coats, quilts,
etc. My uncle, Jacob Donner, and family, also had a tent,
and camped near us."
Crowded in their ill-prepared dwellings, the emigrants
could not feel otherwise than gloomy and despondent. The
small quantity of provisions became so nearly exhausted that
it is correct to say they were compelled to live on meat alone,
without so much as salt to give it a relish. There was an
abundance of beautiful trout in the lake, but no one could
catch them. W. C. Graves tells how he went fishing two or
three different times, but without success. The lake was not
frozen over at first, and fish were frequently seen ; but they
were too coy and wary to approach such bait as was offered.
Soon thick ice covered the water, and after that no one at-
tempted to fish. In fact, the entire party seemed dazed by the
terrible calamity which had overtaken them.
CHAPTER VI.
Endeavors to Cross the Mountains — Discouraging Failures — Eddy Kills a Bear
— Making Snow-Shoes — Who Composed the "Forlorn Hope" — Mary A.
Graves — An Irishman — A Generous Act — Six Days' Rations — Mary Graves'
Account — Snow-Blind — C. T. Stanton's Death — "I am Coming Soon" —
Sketch of Stanton's Early Life— His Charity and Self- Sacrifice— The Dia-
mond Breastpin — Stanton's Last Poem.
L knew that death speedily awaited the entire
company unless some could cross over the mountain
barrier and hasten back relief parties. Out of the list
of ninety persons mentioned in the first chapter, only
Mrs. Sarah Keyes, Halloran, Snyder, Hardcoop,
Wolfinger, and Pike had perished, and only three, Messrs.
Reed, Herron, and McCutchen, had reached California. This
left eighty-one persons at the mountain camps. It was resolved
that at the earliest possible moment the strongest and ablest of
the party should endeavor to cross the summits and reach the
settlements. Accordingly, on the twelfth of November, a
party of twelve or fifteen persons set out from the cabins.
It was found impossible, however, to make any considerable
headway in the soft, deep snow, and at midnight they re-
turned to the cabins. They had not succeeded in getting
more than a mile above the head of the lake. In this party
were Mr. F. W. Graves and his two daughters, Mary A.
DISCOURAGING FAILURES. 65
Graves, and Mrs. Sarah Fosdick. The rest, with the excep-
tion of Jay Fosdick and Wm. H. Eddy, were young, un-
married men, as, for instance, Stanton, Smith, Spitzer, Elliott,
Antoine, John Baptiste, and the two Indians. It was com-
paratively a trifling effort, but it seemed to have the effect of
utterly depressing the hopes of several of these men. With
no one in the camps dependent upon them, without any ties
of relationship, or bonds of affection, these young men were
the first to attempt to escape from their prison walls of snow.
Failing in this, many of them never again rallied or made a
struggle for existence. Not so, however, with those who
were heads of families. A gun was owned by William
Foster, and with it, on the fourteenth of November, three
miles north of Truckee, near the present Alder Creek Mill,
Mr. Eddy succeeded in killing a bear. This event inspired
many hearts with courage; but, alas ! it was short-lived. No
other game could be found except two or three wild ducks.
What were these among eighty-one people ! Mr. F. W.
Graves was a native of Vermont, and his boyhood days had
been spent in sight of the Green Mountains. Somewhat
accustomed to snow, and to pioneer customs, Mr. Graves was
the only member of the party who understood how to con-
struct snow-shoes. The unsuccessful attempt made by the
first party proved that no human being could walk upon the
loose snow without some artificial assistance. By carefully
sawing the ox-bows into strips, so as to preserve their curved
form, Mr. Graves, by means of rawhide thongs, prepared
very serviceable snow-shoes. Fourteen pair of shoes were
made in this manner. It was certain death for all to remain
in camp, and yet the first attempt had shown that it was
almost equally certain death to attempt to reach the settle-
ments. There was not food for all, and yet the ones who
undertook to cross the mountains were undoubtedly sacri-
66 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ficing their lives for those who remained in camp. If some
should go, those who were left behind might be able to pre-
serve life until spring, or until relief came. The stoutest
hearts quailed before the thought of battling with the deep
drifts, the storms, and the unknown dangers which lurked on
the summits. The bravest shuddered at the idea of leaving
the cabins and venturing out into the drear and dismal
wilderness of snow. Yet they could count upon their ringers
the days that would elapse before the provisions would be
exhausted, and starvation would ensue, if none left the
camps.
Day after day, with aching hearts and throbbing brows,
the poor imprisoned wretches gazed into each other's faces
in blank despair. Who should be sacrificed? Who would
go out and seek a grave 'neath the crashing avalanche, the
treacherous drifts, or in the dreary famished wilderness, that
those left behind might live? Who would be the forlorn
hope of the perishing emigrants ?
Once, Messrs. Patrick Breen, Patrick Dolan, Lewis Kese-
berg, and W. H. Eddy, are said to have attempted to reach
the summit. On another occasion these same parties, with
Mrs. Reed and family, Mr. Stanton and the two Indians,
made an unsuccessful attempt. Still another time, a large
party, among whom were Mrs. Murphy and the older mem-
bers of her family, made the effort, and even succeeded in
crossing the topmost ridge and reaching Summit Valley, one
and a half miles west of the summit. But all these parties
were forced to return to the cabins, and each failure confirmed
the belief that no living being could cross the mountains. In
this manner time dragged wearily along until the tenth, or,
as some say, the sixteenth of December. The mere matter
of the date is of trifling importance. At all events a forlorn
hope was organized. Seventeen names were enrolled as vol-
VIRGINIA E. REED.
(Mrs. J. M. Murphy.
I880.
MAKING SNOW-SHOES. 6/
unteers. Of these, Charles Burger went only a short dis-
tance, turning back weary and exhausted. Wm. G. Murphy,
who is described as a most brave and resolute boy of eleven
years of age, accompanied the party as far as the head of
Donner Lake. He and his brother Lemuel were without
snow-shoes. It was expected they would step in the beaten
tracks of those who had shoes, but this was soon proven to
be utterly impracticable. The party made snow-shoes for
Lemuel on the first night, out of the aparajos which had
been brought by Stanton from Sutter's Fort. Wm. G. Mur-
phy saved his life by returning to the cabins. No human
being could have endured the trip without snow-shoes. Fif-
teen remained in the party, and these pressed forward without
so much as daring to look back to the dear ones whose lives
depended upon this terrible venture. Without forgetting
William G. Murphy and Charles Burger, who started with
this little band, the first party who crossed the Sierra will in
future be termed the fifteen. Who composed this party?
Mothers, whose babes would starve unless the mothers went ;
fathers, whose wives and children would perish if the fathers
did not go; children, whose aged parents could not survive
unless the children, by leaving, increased the parents' share
of food. Each were included in the forlorn hope.
It was time for some one to leave the cabins. During the
days that had elapsed, no word had been received from the
Donner brothers at Alder Creek, nor from the emigrants who
camped with them. Alder Creek is a branch of Prosser
Creek, and the Donners encamped on the former stream
about a mile and a half above the junction.
On the ninth of December, Milton Elliott and Noah
James started back to learn some tidings of these people.
Soon after they left the camps at the lake, a terrific storm
came down from the mountains, and as nothing had
68 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
been heard from them, it was considered certain they had
perished.
About this time, starvation and exposure had so preyed
upon one of the company, Augustus Spitzer, that one day he
came reeling and staggering into the Breen cabin and fell
prostrate and helpless upon the floor. Poor fellow, he never
rallied, although by careful nursing and kindest attentions he
lingered along for some weeks. The emigrants were no longer
on short allowance, they were actually starving! Oh! the
horror! the dread alarm which prevailed among the com-
pany! C. T. Stanton, ever brave, courageous, lion-hearted,
said, " I will bring help to these famishing people or lay down!
my life." F. W. Graves, who was one of the noblest men
who ever breathed the breath of life, was next to volunteer.
Mr. and Mrs. Graves had nine children, the youngest being
only nine months old. Generously had they parted with the
cattle which they brought to the lake, dividing equally with
those families who had no food. Mary A. Graves and her
elder sister, Mrs. Sarah Fosdick, determined to accompany
their father, and as will presently be seen, their hearts failed
not during trials which crushed strong men. Mary Graves
was about nineteen years old. She was a very beautiful girl,
of tall and slender build, and exceptionally graceful carriage.
Her features, in their regularity, were of classic Grecian
mold. Her eyes were dark, bright, and expressive. A fine
mouth and perfect set of teeth, added to a luxuriant growth
of dark, rebelliously wavy hair, completed an almost perfect
picture of lovely girlhood. Jay Fosdick resolved to share
with his wife the perils of the way. Mrs. Murphy offered to
take care of the infant children of her married daughters, Mrs.
Foster and Mrs. Pike, if they would join the party. The
dear, good mother argued that what the daughters would eat
would keep her and the little ones from starving. It was
A GENEROUS ACT. 69
nobly said, yet who can doubt but that, with clearer vision,
the mother saw that only by urging them to go, could she
save her daughters' lives. With what anguish did Mrs. Har-
riet F. Pike enroll her name among those of the "Forlorn
Hope," and bid good-by to her little two-year-old Naomi and
her nursing babe, Catherine! What bitter tears were shed
by Mr. and Mrs. Foster when they kissed their beautiful baby
boy farewell! Alas! though they knew it not, it was a long,
long farewell. Mrs. Eddy was too feeble to attempt the jour-
ney, and the family were so poorly provided with food that
Mr. Eddy was compelled to leave her and the two little chil-
dren in the cabins, and go with the party. Mrs. McCutchen
also had an infant babe, and Mrs. Graves employed the same
reasoning with her that Mrs. Murphy had so effectively used
with Mrs. Pike and Mrs. Foster. That these three young
mothers left their infant children, their nursing babes, with
others, and started to find relief, is proof stronger than words,
of the desperate condition of the starving emigrants. The
Mexican Antoine, the two Indians Lewis and Salvador, and
an Irishman named Patrick Dolan, completed the fifteen.
This Patrick Dolan deserves more than a passing word. He
had owned a farm in Keokuk, Iowa, and selling it, had taken
as the price, a wagon, four oxen, and two cows. With these
he joined the Donner Party, and on reaching the lake had
killed his cattle and stored them away with those killed by
the Breens. Dolan was a bachelor, and about forty years of
age. He was possessed of two or three hundred dollars in
coin, but instead of being miserly or selfish, was characterized
by generous open-heartedness. "When it became apparent
that there was to be suffering and starvation " (this quotation
is from the manuscript of Hon. James F. Breen), " Dolan de-
termined to lighten the burden at the camps, and leave with
the party that was to attempt the passage of the summit, so
70 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
that there should be less to consume the scant supply of pro-
visions. Previous to his departure, he asked my father (Pat-
rick Breen) to attend to the wants of Reed's family, and to
give of his (Dolan's) meat to Reed's family as long as possi-
ble." Accordingly, Mrs. Reed and her children were taken
into Breen's cabin, where, as mentioned above, Dolan's meat
was stored. Was ever a more generous act recorded? Pat-
rick Dolan had no relative in the Donner Party, and no
friends, save those whose friendship had been formed upon
the plains. With the cattle which belonged to him he could
have selfishly subsisted until relief came, but, whole-souled
Irishman that he was, he gave food to the mothers and the
children and went out into the waste of snow to perish of
starvation! How many who live to-day owe their existence
to Patrick Dolan's self-sacrifice! This blue-eyed, brown-
haired Irishman is described as being of a jovial disposition,
and inclined to look upon the bright side of things. Remem-
bering how he gave his life for strangers, how readily can we
appreciate Mr. Breen's tender tribute: "He was a favorite
with children, and would romp and play with a child." As
a token of appreciation for his kindness, Mrs. Reed gave Pat-
rick Dolan a gold watch and a Masonic, emblem belonging
to her husband, bidding him to keep them until he was re-
warded for his generosity. The good mother's word had a
significance she wot not of. When Mrs. Reed reached Sut-
ter's Fort she found these valuables awaiting her. They had
been brought in by Indians. Patrick Dolan had kept them
until his death — until the angels came and bore him away to
his reward.
This party of fifteen had taken provisions to last only six
days. At the end of this time they hoped to reach Bear
Valley, so they said, but it is more than probable they dared
not take more food from their dear ones at the cabins. Six
MARY A. GRAVES' ACCOUNT. 71
days' rations ! This means enough of the poor, shriveled beef
to allow each person, three times a day, a piece the size of
one's two fingers. With a little coffee and a little loaf sugar,
this was all. They had matches, Foster's gun, a hatchet, and
each a thin blanket. With this outfit they started to cross
the Sierra. No person, unaccustomed to snow-shoes, can
form an idea of the difficulty which is experienced during
one's first attempt to walk with them. Their shoes would
sink deep into the loose, light snow, and it was with great
effort they made any progress. They had been at Donner
Lake from forty-two to forty-six days, and on this first night
of their journey had left it four miles behind them. After a
dreadful day's work they encamped, in full sight of the lake
and of the cabins. This was harder for the aching hearts of
the mothers than even the terrible parting from their little
ones. To see the smoke of the cabins, to awake from their
troubled dreams, thinking they heard the cry of their starving
babes, to stifle the maternal yearnings which prompted them
to turn back and perish with their darlings clasped to their
breasts, were trials almost unbearable. The next day they
traveled six miles. They crossed the summit, and the camps
were no longer visible. They were in the solemn fastnesses
of the snow-mantled Sierra. Lonely, desolate, forsaken ap-
parently by God and man, their situation was painfully, dis-
tressingly terrible. The snow was wrapped about cliff and
forest and gorge. It varied in depth from twelve to sixty
feet.
Mrs. M. A. Clarke (Mary Graves), now of White River,
Tulare County, speaking of this second day, says: " We had
a very slavish day's travel, climbing the divide. Nothing of
interest occurred until reaching the summit. The scenery
was too grand for me to pass without notice, the changes
being so great; walking now on loose snow, and now step-
72 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ping on a hard, slick rock a number of hundred yards in
length. Being a little in the rear of the party, I had a chance
to observe the company ahead, trudging along with packs on
their backs. It reminded me of some Norwegian fur com-
pany among the icebergs. My shoes were ox-bows, split in
two, and rawhide strings woven in, something in form of the
old-fashioned, split-bottomed chairs. Our clothes were of
the bloomer costume, and generally were made of flannel.
Well do I remember a remark one of the company made
here, that we were about as near heaven as we could get.
We camped a little on the west side of the summit the second
night."
Here they gathered a few boughs, kindled a fire upon the
surface of the snow, boiled their coffee, and ate their pitiful
allowance of beef; then wrapping their toil-worn bodies in
their blankets, lay down upon the snow. As W. C. Graves
remarks, it was a bed that was soft, and white, and beautiful,
and yet it was a terrible bed — a bed of death. The third
day they walked five miles. Starting almost at dawn, they
struggled wearily through the deep drifts, and when the night
shadows crept over crag and pine and mountain vale, they
were but five miles on their journey. They did not speak
during the day, except when speech was absolutely neces-
sary. All traveled silently, and with downcast eyes. The
task was beginning to tell upon the frames of even the
strongest and most resolute. The hunger that continually
gnawed at their vitals, the excessive labor of moving the
heavy, clumsy snow-shoes through the soft, yielding snow,
was too much for human endurance. They could no longer
keep together and aid each other with words of hope. They
struggled along, sometimes at great distances apart. The
fatigue and dazzling sunlight rendered some of them snow-
blind. One of these was the noble-hearted Stanton. On
73
this third day he was too blind and weak to keep up with
the rest, and staggered into the camp long after the others had
finished their pitiful supper. Poor, brave, generous Stanton!
He said little, but in his inner heart he knew that the end of
his journey was almost at hand.
Who was this heroic being who left the beautiful valleys of
the Sacramento to die for strangers ? See him wearily toil-
ing onward during the long hours of the fourth day. The
agony and blindness of his eyes wring no cry from his lips,
no murmur, no word of complaint. With patient courage
and heroic fortitude he strives to keep pace with his com-
panions, but finds it impossible. Early in the morning he
drops to the rear, and is soon lost to sight. At night he
drags his weary limbs into camp long after his comrades are
sleeping 'neath the silent stars. It must be remembered that
they had been accustomed to short allowance of food for
months, while he had been used to having an abundance.
Their bodies had been schooled to endure famine, privations,
and long, weary walks. For many days before reaching the
mountains, they had been used to walking every day, in
order to lighten the burdens of the perishing oxen. Fatigues
which exhausted them crushed Stanton. The weather was
clear and pleasant, but the glare of the sun during the day
had been like molten fire to their aching eyes.
On the morning of the fifth day Stanton was sitting smok-
ing by the smoldering fire when the company resumed its
journey. Mary Graves, who had a tender heart for the suf-
fering of others, went kindly up to him, and asked him if he
were coming. "Yes," he replied, " I am coming soon." Was
he answering her, or the unseen spirits that even then were
beckoning him to the unknown world? "Yes, I am coming
soon!" These were his last words. His companions were
too near death's door to return when they found he came not,
74 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and so he perished. He had begged them piteously to lead
him, during the first days of his blindness, but seeming to
realize that they were unable to render assistance, he ceased
to importune, and heroically met his fate. He did not blame
his comrades. They were weak, exhausted, and ready to die
of starvation. With food nearly gone, strength failing, hope
lost, and nothing left but the last, blind, clinging instinct of
life, it was impossible that the perishing company should
have aided the perishing Stanton. He was a hero of the
highest, noblest, grandest stamp. No words can ever ex-
press a fitting tribute to his memory. He gave his life for
strangers who had not the slightest claim to the sacrifice.
He left the valleys where friends, happiness, and abundance
prevailed, to perish amidst chilling snow-drifts — famished and
abandoned. The act of returning to save the starving emi-
grants is as full of heroic grandeur as his death is replete with
mournful desolation.
In May, 1847, W. C. Graves, in company with a relief party,
found the remains of C. T. Stanton near the spot where he
had been left by his companions. The wild animals had par-
tially devoured his body, but the remains were easily identi-
fied by means of his clothing and pistols.
The following sketch of this hero is kindly furnished by
his brother, Sidney Stanton, of Cazenovia, New York :
" Charles Tyler Stanton was born at Pompey, Onondaga
County, New York, March n, 1811. He was five feet five
inches in height. He had brown eyes and brown hair. He
possessed a robust constitution, and although rather slender
during his youth, at the age of fifteen he became strong and
hearty, and could endure as great hardships as any of his
brothers. He had five brothers and four sisters, and was the
seventh child. His grandparents, on his father's side, were
well off at the close of the revolutionary war, but sold their
STANTONS CHARITY AND SELF-SACRIFICE. 75
Jarge farms, and took Continental money in payment. Soon
afterward this money became worthless, and they lost all.
They were at the time living in Berkshire, Massachusetts,
but soon after removed west to the county where C. T. Stan-
ton was born. There were in his father's family fourteen
children — seven sons and seven daughters."
In his younger days Stanton was engaged as a clerk in a
store. He was honest, industrious, and greatly beloved by
those with whom he came in contact. His early education
was limited, but during his employment as clerk he used
every possible endeavor to improve his mind. During his
journey across the plains, he was regarded as somewhat .of a
savant, on account of his knowledge of botany, geology, and
other branches of natural science. His disposition was gen-
erous to a fault. He never was happier than when bestowing
assistance upon needy friends. His widowed mother, for
whom he entertained the most devoted affection, was kindly
cared for by him until her death in 1835. After this sad
event he removed to Chicago. At Chicago he made money
rapidly for a time, and his hand was ever ready to give aid to
those about him. Charity and heroic self-sacrifice appear to
have been his predominant characteristics. They stand out
in bold relief, not only in his early history, but during his
connection with the Donner Party. While in the mountains
he had no money to give, but instead he gave his strength,
his energy, his love, his all, his very life, for his companions.
That he had a premonition of the gloomy fate which over-
took him in the Sierra, or at least that he fully realized the
perils to which he was exposing his life, is indicated by the
following incident : When he set out from Sutter's Fort to
return to the Donner train with provisions, he left a vest with
Captain Sutter. In one of the pockets of this vest was subse-
quently found a package directed to the Captain with the fol-
76 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
lowing memorandum : " Captain Sutter will send the within,
in the event of my death, to Sidney Stanton, Syracuse, New
York." The package contained a diamond breastpin. Mr.
Sidney Stanton writes as follows concerning this keepsake :
"I will give you a short history or account of the pin which
was left for me at Sutter's Fort, which Mr. McKinstry for-
warded to me. This was an event so peculiar at the time.
He visited me here at Syracuse, while he was prospering in
Chicago. He was on his way to New York, and wanted a
sum of money, which I advanced. Before leaving he fastened
this pin on the dress of my wife, remarking that she must
consider it as a present from him. Nothing more was thought
of this event until he again wanted money. Misfortune had
overtaken him, and this event gave him much pain, not so
much on his own account as because he could not relieve the
distress of dear friends when asked for aid. I sent him a little
more money; I had not much to spare, and in talking the
matter over with my wife, she asked, ' Why not send him the
pin? It is valuable, and in time of need he might dispose of
it for his comfort.' In saying this she took the ground that
it was left with her as a pledge, not as a gift. I therefore
handed it to my sister to send to him for this purpose. But
it appears by his keeping it and sending it back in the way
he did, that he did consider it a gift, and hence he would not
and did not dispose of it for necessary things for his own
comfort. This pin was the only thing of value which he had
at the time of his death."
Stanton was an excellent writer. His descriptions of his
travels from Chicago to the South would make a good-sized
and a very interesting book. His last composition is given
below. It is an appropriate ending to this brief outline of
the history of one who should be regarded as one of the
noblest of California's pioneer heroes:
77
"TO MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN.
"Oh, how that word my soul inspires
With holy, fond, and pure desires!
Maternal love, how bright the flame!
For wealth of worlds I'd not profane
Nor idly breathe thy sacred name,
My mother.
"Thy sainted spirit dwells on high.
How oft I weep, how oft I sigh
Whene'er I think of bygone time,
Thy smile of love, which once was mine,
That look so heavenly and divine,
My mother.
"Thy warning voice in prayers of love,
Ascending to the throne above
With tones of eloquence so rife,
Hath turned my thoughts from wordly strife,
And cheered me through my wayward life,
My mother.
"When death shall close my sad career,
And I before my God appear —
There to receive His last decree—
My only prayer there will be
Forever to remain with thee,
My mother."
CASTING LOTS TO SEE WHO SHOULD DIE. 79
In the account given by Mary Graves, is mentioned the
following incident in the fourth day's travel: "Observing by
the way a deep gorge at the right, having the appearance of
being full of smoke, I wanted very much to go to it, but the
Indians said no, that was not the way. I prevailed on the
men to fire the gun, but there was no answer. Every time
we neared the gorge I would halloo at the top of my voice,
but we received no answer."
On this day the horror of the situation was increased by
the commencement of a snow-storm. As the flakes fell thick
and fast, the party sat down in the snow utterly discouraged
and heartsick.
Mary Graves says: "What to do we did not know. We
held a consultation, whether to go ahead without provisions,
or go back to the cabins, where we must undoubtedly starve.
Some of those who had children and families wished to go
back, but the two Indians said they would go on to Captain
Sutter's. I told them I would go too, for to go bark and
hear the cries of hunger from my little brothers and sisters
was more than I could stand. I would go as far as I could,
let the consequences be what they might."
There, in the deep, pitiless storm, surrounded on all sides
by desolate wastes of snow, the idea was first advanced that
life might be sustained if some one were to perish. Since
leaving the cabins, they had at no time allowed themselves
more than one ounce of meat per meal, and for two entire
days they had not tasted food. The terrible pangs of hunger
must be speedily allayed or death was inevitable. Some one
proposed that lots be cast to see who should die. The terri-
ble proposition met with opposition from Foster and others,
but slips of paper were actually prepared by some of the men,
and he who drew the longest — the fatal slip — was Patrick
Dolan. Who should take Dolan's life? Who was to be the
8O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
executioner of the man who had so generously given up the
food which might have sustained his life, and joined the for-
lorn hope that others might live? With one accord they
rose to their feet and staggered forward. As if to banish
from their minds the horrid thought of taking Dolan's life,
they attempted to pursue their journey.
With the greatest exertion and suffering they managed to
crawl, and stagger, and flounder along until they attained a
distance of two or three miles. Here they camped, and
passed a most wretched, desolate night. The morning dawned;
it was dreary, rainy, and discouraging. The little party set
out as usual, but were too weak and lifeless to travel. The
soft snow clung to their feet in heavy lumps like snow-balls.
Instead of making a fire in a new place, Mary Graves says
they crawled back to the camp-fire of the night previous. Here
they remained until night came on — a night full of horrors.
The wind howled through the shrieking forests like troops of
demons. The rain had continued all day, but finally changed
to snow and sleet, wrhich cut their pinched faces, and made
them shiver with cold. All the forces of nature seemed to
combine for their destruction. At one time during the night,
in attempting to kindle a fire, the ax or hatchet which they
had carried was lost in the loose snow.
A huge fire was kindled at last, with the greatest difficulty,
and in order to obtain more warmth, all assisted in piling fuel
upon the flames. Along in the night, Mr. Foster thinks it
was near midnight, the heat of the flames and the dropping
coals and embers thawed the snow underneath the fire until
a deep, well-like cavity was formed about the fire. Suddenly,
as if to intensify the dreadful horrors of the situation, the
bottom of this well gave way, and the fire disappeared!
The camp and the fire had been built over a stream of water,
and the fire had melted, through the overlying snow until it
FRANKLIN WARD GRAVES* DYING ADVICE. 8 1
had fallen into the stream! Those who peered over the
brink of the dark opening about which they were gathered,
could hear, far down in the gloom, during the lull of the
storm, the sound of running waters.
If there is anything lacking in this picture of despair, it is
furnished in the groans and cries of the shivering, dying out-
casts, and the demoniacal shrieks and ravings of Patrick Dolan,
who was in the delirium which precedes death. It was not
necessary that life should be taken by the members of the
company. Death was busily at work, and before the wild
winter night was ended, his ghastly victims were deaf to
wind or storm.
When the fire disappeared, it became apparent that the
entire forlorn hope would perish before morning if exposed
to the cold and storm. W. H. Eddy says the wind increased
until it was a perfect tornado. About midnight, Antoine,
overcome by starvation, fatigue, and the bitter cold, ceased
to breathe. Mr. F. W. Graves was dying. There was a
point beyond which an iron nerve and a powerful constitu-
tion were unable to sustain a man. This point had been
reached, and Mr. Graves was fast passing away. He was
conscious, and calling his weeping, grief-stricken daughters
to his side, exhorted them to use every means in their power
to prolong their lives. He reminded them of their mother,
of their little brothers and sisters in the cabin at the lake.
He reminded Mrs. Pike of her poor babies. Unless these
daughters succeeded in reaching Sutter's Fort, and were able
to send back relief, all at the lake must certainly die. In-
stances had been cited in history, where, under less provoca-
tion, human flesh had been eaten, yet Mr. Graves well knew
that his daughters had said they would never touch the loath-
some food.
Was there not something noble and grand in the dying
6
82 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
advice of this father? Was he not heroic when he counseled
that all false delicacy be laid aside and that his body be sac-
rificed to support those that were to relieve his wife and
children ?
Earnestly pleading that these afflicted children rise supe-
rior to their prejudices and natural instincts — Franklin Ward
Graves died. A sublimer death seldom is witnessed. In the
solemn darkness, in the tempestuous storm, on the deep,
frozen snow-drifts, overcome by pain and exposure, with the
pangs of famine gnawing away his life, this unselfish father,
with his latest breath urged that his flesh be used to prolong
the lives of his companions. Truly, a soul that could prompt
such utterances had no need, after death, for its mortal tene-
ment— it had a better dwelling-place on high.
With two of their little number in the icy embraces of
death, some plan to obtain warmth for the living was im-
mediately necessary. W. H. Eddy proposed a frontiersman's
method. It was for all to huddle closely together in a circle,
lie down on a blanket with their heads outward, and be cov-
ered with a second blanket. Mr. Eddy arranged his com-
panions, spread the blanket over them, and creeping under
the coverlid, completed the circle. The wind swept the drift-
ing snow in dense clouds over their heads. The chilling air,
already white with falling snowflakes, became dense with the
drifting masses. In a little while the devoted band were
completely hidden from wind, or storm, or piercing cold, by
a deep covering of snow. The warmth of their bodies, con-
fined between the blankets, under the depth of snow, soon
rendered them comfortably warm. Their only precaution
now was to keep from being buried alive. Occasionally
some member of the party would shake the rapidly accumu-
lating snow from off their coverlid.
They no longer were in danger of freezing. But while the
THE CAMP OF DEATH. 83
elements were vainly waging fierce war above their heads,
hunger was rapidly sapping the fountains of life, and claim-
ing them for its victims. When, for a moment, sleep would
steal away their reason, in famished dreams they would seize
with their teeth the hand or arm of a companion. The de-
lirium of death had attacked one or two, and the pitiful wails
and cries of these death-stricken maniacs were heart-rending.
The dead, the dying, the situation, were enough to drive one
crazy.
The next day was ushered in by one of the most furious
storms ever witnessed on the Sierra. All the day long, drifts
and the fast-falling snow circled above them under the force
of the fierce gale. The air was a frozen fog of swift-darting
ice-lances. The fine particles of snow and sleet, hurled by
maddened storm-fiends, would cut and sting so that one's
eyes could not be opened in the storm, and the rushing gale
would hurl one prostrate on the snow. Once or twice the
demented Dolan escaped from his companions and disap-
peared in the blinding storm. Each time' he returned or was
caught and dragged 'neath the covering, but the fatal ex-
posure chilled the little life remaining in his pulses. During
the afternoon he ceased to shriek, or struggle, or moan.
Patrick Dolan, the warm-hearted Irishman, was starved to
death.
Mr. Eddy states, in Thornton's work, that they entered
this Camp of Death, Friday, December 25, Christmas. Ac-
cording to his version they started from the cabins on the
sixteenth day of December, with scanty rations for six days.
On the twenty-second they consumed the last morsel of their
provisions. Not until Sunday noon, December 27, did the
storm break away. They had been over four days without
food, and two days and a half without fire. They were
almost dead.
84 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Is there a mind so narrow, so uncharitable, that it can
censure these poor dying people for the acts of this terrible
day? With their loved ones perishing at Donner Lake, with
the horror of a lingering death staring them in the face,
can the most unfeeling heart condemn them ?
Emerging from the dreary prison-house, they attempted to
kindle a fire. Their matches were wet and useless. Their
flint-lock gun would give forth a spark, but without some
dry material that would readily ignite, it was of no avail.
On this morning of the twenty-seventh Eddy says that he
blew up a powder-horn in an effort to strike fire under the
blankets. His face and hands were much burned. Mrs.
McCutchen and Mrs. Foster were also burned, but not seri-
ously. For some time all efforts to obtain a fire proved
fruitless. Their garments were drenched by the storm.
Mrs. Pike had a mantle that was lined with cotton. The
lining of this was cut open, and the driest portion of the
cotton was exposed to the sun's rays, in the hope that it
could be made to catch the spark from the flint. At last
they were successful. A fire was kindled in a dead tree, and
the flames soon leaped up to the loftiest branches. The
famished, shivering wretches gathered round the burning
tree. So weak and lifeless were they that when the great
pine limbs burned off and fell crashing about them, neither
man nor woman moved or attempted to escape the threaten-
ing danger. All felt that sudden death would be welcome.
They were stunned and horrified by the dreadful alternative
which it was evident they must accept.
The men finally mustered up courage to approach the
dead. With averted eyes and trembling hand, pieces of flesh
were severed from the inanimate forms and laid upon the
coals. It was the very refinement of torture to taste such
food, yet those who tasted lived. One could not eat.
A SISTER'S AGONY. 85
Lemuel Murphy was past relief. A boy about thirteen years
old, Lemuel was dearly loved by his sisters, and, full of
courage, had endeavored to accompany them on the fearful
journey. He was feeble when he started from the cabins,
and the overwhelming sufferings of the fatal trip had de-
stroyed his remaining strength. Starvation is agony during
the first three days, apathy and inanition during the fourth
and perhaps the fifth, and delirium from that time until the
struggle ceases. When the delirium commences, hope ends.
Lemuel was delirious Sunday morning, and when food was
placed to his lips he either could not eat or was too near
death to revive. All day Mrs. Foster held her brother's head
in her lap, and by every means in her power sought to
soothe his death agonies. The sunlight faded from the
surrounding summits. Darkness slowly emerged from the
canyons and enfolded forest and hill-slope in her silent em-
brace. The glittering stars appeared in the heavens, and the
bright, full moon rose over the eastern mountain crests.
The silence, the profound solitude, the ever-present wastes
of snow, the weird moonlight, and above all the hollow
moans of the dying boy in her lap, rendered this night the
most impressive in the life of Mrs. Foster. She says she
never beholds a bright moonlight without recurring with a
shudder to this night on the Sierra. At two o'clock in the
morning Lemuel Murphy ceased to breathe. The warm
tears and kisses of the afflicted sisters were showered upon
lips that would never more quiver with pain.
Until the twenty-ninth of December they remained at the
" Camp of Death." Would you know more of the shuddering
details ? Does the truth require the narration of the sickening
minutiae of the terrible transactions of these days? Human
beings were never called upon to undergo more trying ordeals.
Dividing into groups, the members of each family were spared
86 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
the pain of touching their own kindred. Days and perhaps
weeks of starvation were awaiting them in the future, and they
dare not neglect to provide as best they might. Each of the
four bodies was divested of its flesh, and the flesh was dried.
Although no person partook of kindred flesh, sights were often
witnessed that were blood-curdling. Mrs. Foster, as we have
seen, fairly worshiped her brother Lemuel. Has human pen
power to express the shock of horror this sister received
when she saw her brother's heart thrust through with a stick,
and broiling upon the coals? No man can record or read
such an occurrence without a cry of agony! What, then, did
she endure wh'o saw this cruel sight?
These are facts. They are given just as they came from
the lips of Mrs. Foster, a noble woman, who would have died
of horror and a broken heart but for her starving babe, her
mother, and her little brothers and sisters who were at Don-
ner Lake. Mary Graves corroborates Mrs. Foster, and W. H.
Eddy gave a similar version to Judge Thornton.
The Indian guides, Lewis and Salvador, would not eat this
revolting food. They built a fire away from the company,
and with true Indian stoicism endured the agonies of starva-
tion without so much as beholding the occurrences at the
other camp-fire.
Starved bodies possess little flesh, and starving people could
carry but light burdens through such snow-drifts. On these
accounts, the provision which the Almighty seemed to have
provided to save their lives, lasted only until the thirty-first.
On New Year's morning they ate their moccasins and the
strings of their snow-shoes. On the night before, Lewis and
Salvador caught the sound of ominous words, or perceived
glances that were filled with dreadful import, and during the
darkness they fled.
For several days past the party had been lost. The In-
KILLING A DEER. 8/
diuns could not recognize the country when it was hidden
from thirty to fifty feet in snow. Blindly struggling forward,
they gradually separated into three parties. On the fourth,
W. H. Eddy and Mary Graves were in advance with the gun.
A starved deer crossed their path and providentially was
slain. Drinking its warm blood and feasting upon its flesh,
this couple waited for the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Foster, Mrs.
McCutchen, and Mrs. Pike, who were some distance behind.
Night came and passed and they did not arrive. Indeed,
Foster was dying for lack of nourishment. Behind this party
were Mr. and Mrs. Jay Fosdick. During the night, Mr. Fos-
dick perished, and the faithful wife, after remaining with him
until morning, struggled forward and met Mrs. Foster and a
companion. Mrs. Fosdick related the death of her husband,
and upon being informed of Foster's condition, consented that
her husband's body be converted into food. It was done.
This was the first time that women's hands had used the
knife, but by the act a life was saved. Mrs. Fosdick, al-
though dying, would not touch the food, and but for the
venison would not have lived to see the setting of the sun.
But what was one small deer among so many famished peo-
ple? Hide, head, feet, entrails, all were eaten. On the sixth,
the last morsel was consumed. They were now without
hope. Their journey was apparently interminable. Wearied,
foot-sore, freezing at night and tortured by hunger during the
day, life could not last many hours. Some one must die ;
else none could live and reach the long-talked-of relief.
Would it be Eddy, whose wife and two children were be-
hind? Would it be Mrs. Pike, who left two babes? Mrs.
McCutchen, who left one? Mr. or Mrs. Foster, whose baby
boy was at the cabin ? Or would it be Mary Graves or Mrs.
Fosdick, who had left mother and family? On the night of
the seventh, they lay down upon the snow without having
88 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
tasted a mouthful of food during the day. Continued famine
and exhaustion had so weakened their frames that they could
not survive another day. Yet, on the morning of the seventh,
they arose and staggered onward. Soon they halted and
gathered about some freshly made tracks. Tracks marked
by blood! Tracks that they knew had been made by Lewis
and Salvador, whose bare feet were sore and bleeding from
cuts and bruises inflicted by the cruel, jagged rocks, the frozen
snow, and flinty ice. These Indians had eaten nothing for
nine days, and had been without fire or blankets for four
days. They could not be far ahead.
CHAPTER VIII.
Starvation at Donner Lake — Preparing Rawhide for Food — Eating the Fire-
rug — Shoveling Snow off the Beds — Playing they were Tea-cups of
Custard — A Starving Baby — Pleading with Silent Eloquence — Patrick
Breen's Diary — Jacob Donner's Death — A Child's Vow — A Christmas
Dinner — Lost on the Summits — A Stump Twenty-two Feet High —
Seven Nursing Babes at Donner Lake — A Devout Father — A Dying
Boy — Sorrow and Suffering at the Cabins.
)W fared it with those left at Donner Lake ? About
the time the fifteen began their terrible journey,
Baylis Williams starved to death. Such food as
the rest had was freely given to him, but it did not
satisfy the demands of his nature. Quietly, uncom-
plainingly, he had borne the pangs of famine, and when the
company first realized his dreadful condition, he was in the
delirium which preceded death. What words can portray the
emotions of the starving emigrants, when they saw one of
their number actually perish of hunger before their eyes!
Williams died in the Graves cabin, and was buried near the
house by W. C. Graves and John Denton.
All the Donner Party were starving. When the cattle were
killed the hides had been spread over the cabins in lieu of
shingles. These were now taken down and eaten. All the
survivors describe the method of preparing this miserable
QO HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
substitute for food. The narration by Mrs. J. M. Murphy
(Virginia E. Reed), of San Jose, is among the most vivid.
She says the green rawhides were cut into strips and laid
upon the coals, or held in the flames until the hair was com-
pletely singed off. Either side of the piece of hide was then
scraped with a knife until comparatively clean, and was
placed in a kettle and boiled until soft and pulpy. There was
no salt, and only a little pepper, and yet this substance was
all that was between them and starvation. When cold, the
boiled hides and the water in which they were cooked, be-
came jellied and exactly resembled glue. The tender
stomachs of many of the little children revolted at this
disagreeable diet, and the loathing they acquired for the
sight of this substance still exists in the minds of some of
the survivors. To this day, Thomas K. Reed, of San Jose,
who was then a tiny three-year-old, can not endure the sight
of calf's-foot jelly, or of similar dishes, because of its re-
semblance to the loathed food which was all his mother
could give him in the cabins at Donner Lake.
William G. Murphy describes how they gathered up the
old, castaway bones of the cattle — bones from which all the
flesh had been previously picked — and boiled, and boiled,
and boiled them until they actually would crumble between
the teeth, and were eaten. The little children, playing upon
the fire-rug in his mother's cabin, used to cut off little pieces
of the rug, toast them crisp upon the coals, and then eat
them. In this manner, before any one was fairly aware of
the fact, the fire-rug was entirely consumed.
The Donner families, at Prosser Creek, were, if possible,
in even a sadder condition. In order to give a glimpse of
the suffering endured in these two tents, the following is
quoted from a letter written by Mrs. W. A. Babcock (Georgia
A. Donner), now residing at Mountain View, Santa Clara
THE STARVING BABY. 91
County: "The families shared with one another as long as
they had anything to share. Each one's portion was very
small. The hides were boiled, and the bones were burned
brown and eaten. We tried to eat a decayed buffalo robe,
but it was too tough, and there was no nourishment in it.
Some of the few mice that came into camp were caught and
eaten. Some days we could not keep a fire, and many times,
during both days and nights, snow was shoveled from off our
tent, and from around it, that we might not be buried alive.
Mother remarked one day that it had been two weeks that
our beds and the clothing upon our bodies had been wet.
Two of my sisters and myself spent some days at Keseberg's
cabin. The first morning we were there they shoveled the
snow from our bed before we could get up. Very few can
believe it possible for human beings to live and suffer the ex-
posure and hardships endured there."
Oh! how long and dreary the days were to the hungry
children! Even their very plays and pastimes were pathetic,
because of their piteous silent allusion to the pangs of starva-
tion. Mrs. Frank Lewis (Patty Reed), of San Jose, relates
that the poor, little, famishing girls used to fill the pretty
porcelain tea-cups with freshly fallen snow, daintily dip it out
with teaspoons and eat it, playing it was custard.
Dear Mrs. Murphy had the most sacred and pitiful charge.
It was the wee nursing babe, Catherine Pike, whose mother
had gone with the "Forlorn Hope," to try, if possible, to pro-
cure relief. All there was to give the tiny sufferer, was a little
gruel made from snow water, containing a slight sprinkling
of coarse flour. This flour was simply ground wheat, un-
bolted. Day after day the sweet little darling would lie help-
lessly upon its grandmother's lap, and seem with its large,
sad eyes to be pleading for nourishment. Mrs. Murphy care-
fully kept the little handful of flour concealed — there was
92 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
only a handful at the very beginning — lest some of the starv-
ing children might get possession of the treasure. Each day
she gave Catherine a few teaspoonfuls of the gruel. Strangely
enough, this poor little martyr did not often cry with hunger,
but with tremulous, quivering mouth, and a low, subdued sob
or moan, would appear to be begging for something to eat.
The poor, dumb lips, if gifted with speech, could not have
uttered a prayer half so eloquent, so touching. Could the
mother, Mrs. Pike, have been present, it would have broken
her heart to see her patient babe dying slowly, little by little.
Starvation had dried the maternal breasts long before Mrs.
Pike went away, so that no one can censure her for leaving
her baby. She could only have done as Mrs. Murphy did,
give it the plain, coarse gruel, and watch it die, day by day,
upon her lap.
Up to this time, but little has been said of Patrick Breen.
He was an invalid during the winter of 1846 and '47. A man
of more than ordinary intelligence, a devout Catholic, a faith-
ful and devoted father, his life furnishes a rare type of the
pioneer Californian. To Mr. Breen we are indebted for the
most faithful and authentic record of the days spent at the
cabins. This record is in the form of a diary, in which the
events of the day were briefly noted in the order of their oc-
currence. Lewis Keseberg kept a similar diary, but it was
subsequently accidentally destroyed. Mrs. Tamsen Donner
kept a journal, but this, with her paintings and botanical col-
lections, disappeared at the fatal tent on Alder Creek. Mr.
Breen's diary alone was preserved. He gave it into Col.
McKinstry's possession in the spring of 1847, and on the
fourth of September of that year it was published in the
Nashville (Tenn.) Whig. A copy of the Whig of that date
is furnished by Wm. G. Murphy, of Marysville. Other papers
have published garbled extracts from this diary, but none
PATRICK BREEN S DIARY. 93
have been reliable. The future history of the events which
transpired at the cabins will be narrated in connection with
this diary.
It must be remembered that the lake had always been
known as "Truckee Lake," it having been named after an
old Indian guide who had rendered much assistance to the
Schallenberger party in 1 844. The record appears without
the slightest alteration. Even the orthography of the name
of the lake is printed as it was written, " Truckey."
The diary commences as follows:
"TRUCKEY'S LAKE, November 20, 1846.
" Came to this place on the thirty-first of last month ; went
into the pass ; the snow so deep we were unable to find the
road, and when within three miles from the summit, turned
back to this shanty on Truckey 's Lake; Stanton came up
one day after we arrived here; we again took our teams and
wagons, and made another unsuccessful attempt to cross in
company with Stanton; we returned to this shanty; it con-
tinued to snow all the time. We now have killed most part
of our cattle, having to remain here until next spring, and live
on lean beef, without bread or salt. It snowed during the
space of eight days, with little intermission, after our arrival,
though now clear and pleasant, freezing at night; the snow
nearly gone from the valleys.
"November 2 1. Fine morning; wind northwest; twenty-
two of our company about starting to cross the mountains
this day, including Stanton and his Indians.
" Nov. 22. Froze last night ; fine and clear to-day ; no ac-
count from those on the mountains.
"Nov. 23. Same weather; wind west; the expedition
across the mountains returned after an unsuccessful attempt.
"Nov. 25. Cloudy; looks like the eve of a snow-storm;
94 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
our mountaineers are to make another trial to-morrow, if fair;
froze hard last night.
"Nov. 26. Began to snow last evening; now rains or
sleets ; the party do not start to-day.
"Nov. 27. Still snowing; now about three feet deep;
wind west; killed my last oxen to-day; gave another yoke
to Foster; wood hard to be got.
"Nov. 30. Snowing fast; looks as likely to continue as
when it commenced ; no living thing without wings can get
about.
"Dec. i. Still snowing; wind west ; snow about six or
seven and a half feet deep ; very difficult to get wood, and we
are completely housed up ; our cattle all killed but two or
three, and these, with the horses and Stanton's mules, all
supposed to be lost in the snow ; no hopes of finding them
alive.
"Dec. 3. Ceases snowing; cloudy all day; warm enough
to thaw.
"Dec. 5. Beautiful sunshine,* thawing a little; looks de-
lightful after the long storm ; snow seven or eight feet deep.
" Dec. 6. The morning fine and clear; Stanton and Graves
manufacturing snow-shoes for another mountain scrabble ; no
account of mules.
"Dec. 8. Fine weather; froze hard last night; wind
south-west; hard work to find wood sufficient to keep us
warm or cook our beef.
" Dec. 9. Commenced snowing about eleven o'clock ;
wind northwest ; took in Spitzer yesterday, so weak that he
can not rise without help; caused by starvation. Some have
a scanty supply of beef; Stanton trying to get some for him-
self and Indians; not likely to get much.
"Dec. 10. Snowed fast all night, with heavy squalls of
wind ; continues to snow ; now about seven feet in depth.
JACOB DONNER S DEATH. 95
"Dec. 14. Snows faster than any previous day; Stanton
and Graves, with several others, making preparations to cross
the mountains on snow-shoes; snow eight feet on a level.
"Dec. 16. Fair and pleasant; froze hard last night; the
company started on snow-shoes to cross the mountains;
wind southeast.
"Dec. 17. Pleasant; William Murphy returned from the
mountain party last evening; Baylis Williams died night be-
fore last ; Milton and Noah started for Donner's eight days
ago ; not returned yet ; think they are lost in the snow.
"Dec. 19. Snowed last night; thawing to-day; wind
northwest; a little singular for a thaw.
"Dec. 20. Clear and pleasant; Mrs. Reed here; no ac-
count from Milton yet. Charles Burger started for Don-
ner's; turned back; unable to proceed; tough times, but not
discouraged. Our hope is in God. Amen.
"Dec. 21. Milton got back last night from Donner's
camp. Sad news; Jacob Donner, Samuel Shoemaker,
Rhinehart, and Smith are dead ; the rest of them in a low
situation; snowed all night, with a strong southwest wind."
Jacob Donner was the first to die at Prosser' Creek. He
expired while sitting at the table in his tent, with his head
bowed upon his hands, as if in deep meditation. The fol-'
lowing terse account is from the gifted pen of Mrs. S. O.
Houghton (Eliza P. Donner), of San Jose: "Jacob Donner
was a slight man, of delicate constitution, and was in poor
health when we left Springfield, Illinois. The trials of the
journey reduced his strength and exhausted his energy.
When we reached the place of encampment in the mountains
he was discouraged and gave up in despair. Not even the
needs of his family could rouse him to action. He was
utterly dejected and made no effort, but tranquilly awaited
death."
96 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
"Dec. 23. Clear to-day; Milton took some of his meat
away ; all well at their camp. Began this day to read the
'Thirty Days' Prayers;' Almighty God, grant the requests
of unworthy sinners !
"Dec. 24. Rained all night, and still continues; poor
prospect for any kind of comfort, spiritual or temporal."
As will be seen by various references throughout this
diary, Mr. Breen was a devout Catholic. During the darkest
hour of trial the prayers were regularly read. That this
might be done during the long weary evenings, as well as by
day, pieces of pitch pine were split and laid carefully in one
corner of the cabin, which would be lighted at the fire, and
would serve as a substitute for candles. Those of the sur-
vivors who are living often speak of the times when they
held these sticks while Mr. Breen read the prayers. So im-
pressive were these religious observances that one girl, a
bright, beautiful child, Virginia E. Reed, made a solemn
vow that if God would hear these prayers, and deliver her
family from the dangers surrounding them, she would be-
come a Catholic. God did save her family, and she kept
her vow. She is to-day a fervent Catholic.
"Dec. 25. Began to snow yesterday, snowed all night,
and snows yet rapidly; extremely difficult to find wood;
uttered our prayers to God this Christmas morning; the
prospect is appalling, but we trust in Him."
What a desolate Christmas morning that was for the
snow-bound victims! All were starving. Something to eat,
something to satisfy the terrible cravings of appetite, was the
constant wish of all. Sometimes the wishes were expressed
aloud, but more frequently a gloomy silence prevailed.
When anything was audibly wished for, it was invariably
something whose size was proportional to their hunger.
A CHRISTMAS DINNER. 97
They never wished for a meal, or a mouthful, but for a barrel
full, a wagon load, a house full, or a storehouse full.
On Christmas eve the children spoke in low, subdued
tones, of the visits Santa Claus used to make them in their
beautiful homes, before they started across the plains. Now
they knew that no Santa Claus could find them in the path-
less depths of snow.
One family, the Reeds, were in a peculiarly distressing sit-
uation. They knew not whether the father was living or
dead. No tidings had reached them since his letters ceased
to be found by the wayside. The meat they had obtained
from the Breen and Graves families was now gone, and on
Christmas morning their breakfast was a "pot of glue," as
the boiled rawhide was termed. But Mrs. Reed, the dear,
tender-hearted mother, had a surprise in store for her chil-
dren this day. When the last ox had been purchased, Mrs.
Reed had placed the frozen meat in one corner of the cabin,
so that pieces could be chipped off with a knife or hatchet.
The tripe, however, she cleaned carefully and hung on the
outside of the cabin, on the end of a log, close to the ground.
She knew that the snow would soon conceal this from view.
She also laid away secretly, one teacupful of white beans,
about half that quantity of rice, the same measure of dried
apples, and a piece of bacon two inches square. She knew
that if Christmas found them alive, they would be in a ter-
ribly destitute condition. She therefore resolved to lay these
articles away, and give them to her starving children for a
Christmas dinner. This was done. The joy and gladness of
these poor little children knew no bounds when they saw the
treasures unearthed and cooking on the fire. They were, just
this one meal, to have all they could eat! They laughed,
and danced, and cried by turns. They eagerly watched the
dinner as it boiled. The pork and tripe had been cut in dice-
7
98 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
like pieces. Occasionally one of these pieces would boil up
to the surface of the water for an instant, then a bean would
take a peep at them from the boiling kettle, then a piece of
apple, or a grain of rice. The appearance of each tiny bit
was hailed by the children with shouts of glee. The mother,
whose eyes were brimming with tears, watched her famished
darlings with emotions that can be imagined. It seemed too
sad that innocent children should be brought to such destitu-
tion that the very sight of food should so affect them! When
the dinner was prepared, the mother's constant injunction
was, " Children, eat slowly, there is plenty for all." When
they thought of the starvation of to-morrow, they could not
repress a shade of sadness, and when the name of papa was
mentioned all burst into tears. Dear, brave papa! Was he
struggling to relieve his starving family, or lying stark and
dead 'neath the snows of the Sierra? This question was
constantly uppermost in the mother's mind.
"Dec. 27. Cleared off yesterday, and continues clear;
snow nine feet deep; wood growing scarce; a tree, when
felled, sinks into the snow, and is hard to be got at.
"Dec. 30. Fine clear morning; froze hard last night.
Charles Burger died last evening about 10 o'clock.
"Dec. 31. Last of the year. May we, with the help of
God, spend the coming year better than we have the past,
which we propose to do if it is the will of the Almighty to
deliver us from our present dreadful situation. Amen. Morn-
ing fair, but cloudy; wind east by south; looks like another
snow-storm. Snow-storms are dreadful to us. The snow at
present is very deep.
"Jan. i, 1847. We pray the God of mercy to deliver us
from our present calamity, if it be His holy will. Commenced
snowing last night, and snows a little yet. Provisions getting
LOST ON THE SUMMITS. 99
very scanty; dug up a hide from under the snow yesterday;
have not commenced on it yet.
"Jan. 3. Fair during the day, freezing at night. Mrs.
Reed talks of crossing the mountains with her children.
" Jan. 4. Fine morning; looks like spring. Mrs. Reed and
Virginia, Milton Elliott, and Eliza Williams started a short
time ago with the hope of crossing the mountains ; left the
children here. It was difficult for Mrs. Reed to part with
them."
This expedition was only one of many that the emigrants
attempted. The suffering that was endured at these times was
indescribable. The broken, volcanic nature of the summits
rendered it extremely difficult to keep from getting lost. The
white, snowy cliffs were everywhere the same. This party
became bewildered and lost near the beautiful Lake An-
geline, which is close to the present "Summit Station" of the
Central Pacific. Had they attempted to proceed, all would
undoubtedly have perished.
Within half a mile of the wagon road which now extends
from Donner Lake to the Summit are places where rocks and
cliffs are mingled in wildest confusion. Even in summer time
it is difficult to find one's way among the broken, distorted
mountain tops. In the mighty upheaval which produced the
Sierra Nevada, these vast mounds or mountains of frowning
granite were grouped into weird, fantastic labyrinths. Time
has wrought little effect upon their bold precipitous sides,
and made slight impress upon their lofty and almost inac-
cessible crests. Between these fragmentary mountains, in
shapely, symmetrical bowls which have been delved by the
fingers of the water nymphs and Undines, lie beautiful lake-
lets. Angeline is but one of a dozen which sparkle like a
chain of gems between Donner Lake and the snowy, over-
hanging peaks of Mount Stanford. The clefts and fissures of
IOO HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
the towering granite cliffs are filled, in summer, with dainty
ferns, clinging mosses, and the loveliest of mountain wild
flowers, and the rims of the lakelets are bordered with grasses,
shrubbery, and a wealth of wild blossoms. But in winter this
region exhibits the very grandeur of desolation. No verdure
is visible save the dwarfed and shattered pines whose crushed
branches mark the path of the rushing avalanche. The furi-
ous winds in their wild sport toss and tumble the snow-drifts
here and there, baring the sterile peaks, and heaping the
white masses a hundred feet deep into chasm and gorge.
The pure, clear lakes, as if in very fear, hide their faces from
the turbulent elements in mantles of ice. The sun is dark-
ened by dense clouds, and the icy, shivering, shrieking storm-
fiends hold undisturbed their ghastly revels. On every side
are lofty battlements of rock, whose trembling burden of
snow seems ever ready to slide from its glassy foundations of
ice, and entomb the bewildered traveler.
Into this interminable maze of rocks and cliffs and frozen
lakelets, the little party wandered. Elliott had a compass,
but it soon proved worthless, and only added to their per-
plexed and uncertain state of mind. They were out five days.
Virginia's feet became so badly frozen that she could not
walk. This occurrence saved the party. Reluctantly they
turned back toward the cabins, convinced that it was mad-
ness to attempt to go forward. They reached shelter just as
one of the most terrible storms of all that dreadful winter
broke over their heads. Had they delayed their return a few
hours, the path they made in ascending the mountains, and
by means of which they retraced their steps, would have been
concealed, and death would have been certain.
"Jan. 6. Eliza came back yesterday evening from the
mountains, unable to proceed; the others kept ahead.
"Jan. 8. Mrs. Reed and the others came back; could not
MARY A. GRAVES
(Mrs. J. T. Clark.)
1879.
A STUMP TWENTY-TWO FEET HIGH. IOI
find their way on the other side of the mountains. They
have nothing but hides to live on.
"Jan. 10. Began to snow last night; still continues; wind
west-north-west.
"Jan. 13. Snowing fast; snow higher than the shanty; it
must be thirteen feet deep. Can not get wood this morning;
it is a dreadful sight for us to look upon."
One of the stumps near the Graves-Reed cabin, cut while
the snow was at its deepest, was found, by actual measure-
ment, to be twenty-two feet in height. Part of this stump is
standing to-day.
"Jan. 14. Cleared off yesterday. The sun, shining bril-
liantly, renovates our spirits. Praise be to the God of heaven.
"Jan. 15. Clear to-day again. Mrs. Murphy blind; Lan-
drum not able to get wood; has but one ax between him and
Keseberg. It looks like another storm; expecting some ac-
count from Slitter's soon.
"Jan. 17. Eliza Williams came here this morning; Lan-
drum crazy last night; provisions scarce; hides our main sub-
sistence. May the Almighty send us help.
"Jan. 21. Fine morning; John Baptiste and Mr. Denton
came this morning with Eliza; she will not eat hides. Mrs.
sent her back to live or die on them."
The blanks which occasionally occur were in the original
diary. The delicacy which prompted Patrick Breen to omit
these names can not fail to be appreciated. What if there
was sometimes a shade of selfishness, or an act of harshness?
What if some families had more than their destitute neighbors ?
The best provided had little. All were in reality strangely
generous. All divided with their afflicted companions. The
Reeds had almost nothing to eat when they arrived at the
cabins, yet this family is the only one which reached the
IO2 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
settlements without some one member having to partake of
human flesh.
"Jan. 22. Began to snow after sunrise; likely to continue;
wind north.
"Jan. 23. Blew hard and snowed all night; the most
severe storm we have experienced this winter; wind west.
"Jan. 26. Cleared up yesterday; to-day fine and pleasant;
wind south; in hopes we are done with snow-storms. Those
who went to Sutter's not yet returned; provisions getting
scant; people growing weak, living on a small allowance of
hides.
"Jan. 27. Commenced snowing yesterday; still continues
to-day. Lewis Keseberg, Jr., died three days ago; food grow-
ing scarce; don't have fire enough to cook our hides.
"Jan. 30. Fair and pleasant; wind west; thawing in the
sun. John and Edward Breen went to Graves' this morning.
Mrs. seized on Mrs. 's goods until they would be
paid; they also took the hides which herself and family sub-
sisted upon. She regained two pieces only, the balance they
have taken. You may judge from this what our fare is in
camp. There is nothing to be had by hunting, yet perhaps
there soon will be.
"Jan. 31. The sun does not shine out brilliant this morn-
ing; froze hard last night; wind north-west. Landrum Mur-
phy died last night about ten o'clock; Mrs. Reed went to
Graves' this morning to look after goods."
Landrum Murphy was a large and somewhat overgrown
young man. The hides and burnt bones did not contain
sufficient nourishment to keep him alive. For some hours
before he died, he lay in a semi-delirious state, breathing
heavily and seemingly in little or no pain. Mrs. Murphy
went to the Breen camp, and asked Mrs. Breen for a piece of
SEVEN NURSING BABES AT DONNER LAKE. IO3
meat to save her starving boy. Mrs. Breen gave her the meat,
but it was too late, Landrum could not eat. Finally he sank
into a gentle slumber. His breathing grew less and less dis-
tinct, and ere they were fairly aware of it life was extinct.
"Feb. 4. Snowed hard until twelve o'clock last night;
many uneasy for fear we shall all perish with hunger; we have
but little meat left, and only three hides; Mrs. Reed has
nothing but one hide, and that is on Graves' house; Milton
lives there, and likely will keep that. Eddy's child died last
night.
" Feb. 5. It snowed faster last night and to-day than it has
done this winter before; still continues without intermission;
wind south-west. Murphy's folks and Keseberg say they can
not eat hides. I wish we had enough of them. Mrs. Eddy
is very weak.
" Feb. 7. Ceased to snow at last; to-day it is quite pleas-
ant. McCutchen's child died on the second of this month."
This child died and was buried in the Graves cabin. Mr.
W. C. Graves helped dig the grave near one side of the cabin,
and laid the little one to rest. One of the most heart-rend-
ing features of this Donner tragedy is the number of in-
fants that suffered. Mrs. Breen, Pike, Foster, McCutchen,
Eddy, Keseberg, and Graves each had nursing babes when
the fatal camp was pitched at Donner Lake.
"Feb. 8. Fine, clear morning. Spitzer died last night, and
we will bury him in the snow; Mrs. Eddy died on the night
of the seventh.
" Feb. 9. Mrs. Pike's child all but dead; Milton is at Mur-
phy's, not able to get out of bed; Mrs. Eddy and child were
buried to-day; wind south-east.
"Feb. 10. Beautiful morning; thawing in the sun; Milton
IO4 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Elliott died last night at Murphy's cabin, and Mrs. Reed went
there this morning to see about his effects. John Denton try-
ing to borrow meat for Graves; had none to give; they had
nothing but hides; all are entirely out of meat, but a little we
have; our hides are nearly all eat up, but with God's help
spring will soon smile upon us.
"Feb. 12. Warm, thawy morning.
"Feb. 14. Fine morning, but cold. Buried Milton in the
snow; John Denton not well.
"Feb. 15. Morning cloudy until nine o'clock, then cleared
off warm. Mrs. refused to give Mrs. any hides.
Put Sutter's pack hides on her shanty, and would not let her
have them.
"Feb. 1 6. Commenced to rain last evening, and turned to
snow during the night, and continued until morning; weather
changeable, sunshine and then light showers of hail, and wind
at times. We all feel unwell. The snow is not getting much
less at present."
CHAPTER IX.
The Last Resort — Two Reports of a Gun — Only Temporary Relief— Weary
Traveling — The Snow Bridges — Human Tracks ! — An Indian Rancherie
— Acorn Bread — Starving Five Times! — Carried Six Miles — Bravery of
John Rhodes — A Thirty-two Days Journey — Organizing the First Relief
Party — Alcalde Sinclair's Address — Captain R. P. Tucker's Companions.
is recorded of Lewis and Salvador that they came
willingly to the relief of the emigrants. Two of
Sutter's best trained vaqueros, faithful, honest, reliable,
; they seemed rather proud when chosen to assist Stan-
\ 9 i
4> ton in driving the mules laden with provisions for the
starving train. Now they were dying ! Horrified at the sight
of human beings eating the flesh of their comrades, they
withdrew from the whites at the "Camp of Death." After
that they always camped apart, but continued to act as
guides until they became certain that their own lives were in
danger. Then they fled. Starving, exhausted, with frozen
and bleeding feet, the poor wretches dragged their weary
bodies onward until they reached a little streamlet, and here
they lay down to die. Nine days, with no other food than
they could find in the snow, was too much even for their
hardy natures. They were unable to move when the fam-
ished " Seven " passed. Yes, PASSED ! for the starving emi-
IO6 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
grants went on by the poor fellows, unable to deprive them
of the little spark of life left in their wasted bodies. Travel-
ing was now slow work for the dying whites. They only
went about two hundred yards. In a few more hours, per-
haps that very night, they would die of starvation. Already
the terrible phantasies of delirium were beginning to dance
before their sunken eyes. Ere the Indians would cease
breathing some of the Seven would be past relief. There
were two men and five women. William Foster could see
that his wife — the woman who was all the world to him —
was fast yielding to the deadly grasp of the fiends of starva-
tion. For the sake of his life she had stifled the most sacred
instincts of her womanly nature, and procured him food
from Fosdick's body. Should he see her die the most ter-
rible of deaths without attempting to rescue her? Reader,
put yourself in this man's place. Brave, generous, heroic,
full of lion-like nobility, William Foster could not stoop to a
base action. Contemplate his position ! Lying there pros-
trate upon the snow was Mrs. Pike, the woman whom, acci-
dentally, he had rendered a widow. Her babes were dying
in the cabins. His own boy was at the cabins. His com-
rades, his wife, were in the last stages of starvation. He,
also, was dying. Eddy had not nerve enough, the women
could not, and William Foster must — what ! Was it murder?
No ! Every law book, every precept of that higher law, self-
preservation, every dictate of right, reason or humanity, de-
manded the deed. The Indians were past all hope of aid.
They could not lift their heads from their pillow of snow.
It was not simply justifiable — it was duty; it was a necessity.
He told them, when he got back, that he was compelled
to take their lives. They did not moan or struggle, or
appear to regret that their lingering pain was to cease. The
five women and Eddy heard two reports of a gun.
WEARY TRAVELING. JO/
The "Forlorn Hope" might yet save those who were
dying at Donner Lake.
Even this relief was but temporary. Taking the wasted
flesh from the bones, drying it, and staggering forward, the
little band speedily realized that they were not yet saved. It
was food for only a few days. Then they again felt their
strength failing. Once more they endured the excruciating
torments which precede starvation.
In the very complete account of this trip, which is kindly
furnished by Mary Graves, are many interesting particulars
concerning the suffering of these days. " Our only chance
for camp-fire for the night," she says, "was to hunt a dead
tree of some description, and set fire to it. The hemlock
being the best and generally much the largest timber, it
was our custom to select the driest we could find without
leaving our course. When the fire would reach the top of
the tree, the falling limbs would fall all around us and bury
themselves in the snow, but we heeded them not. Some-
times the falling, blazing limbs would brush our clothes, but
they never hit us; that would have been too lucky a hit.
We would sit or lie on the snow, and rest our weary frames.
We would sleep, only to dream of something nice to eat,
and awake again to disappointment. Such was our sad
fate ! Even the reindeer's wretched lot was not worse ! ' His
dinner and his bed were snow, and supper he had not.' Our
fare was the same ! We would strike fire by means of the
flint-lock gun which we had with us. This had to be carried
by turns, as it was considered the only hope left in case we
might find game which we could kill. We traveled over a
ridge of mountains, and then descended a deep canyon,
where one could scarcely see the bottom. Down, down we
would go, or rather slide, for it is very slavish work going
down hill, and in many cases we were compelled to slide on
IO8 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
our shoes as sleds. On reaching the bottom we would plunge
into the snow, so that it was difficult getting out, with the
shoes tied to our feet, our packs lashed to our backs, and
ourselves head and ears under the snow. But we managed
to get out some way, and one by one reached the bottom of
the canyon. When this was accomplished we had to ascend
a hill as steep as the one we had descended. We would
drive the toes of our shoes into the loose snow, to make a
sort of step, and one by one, as if ascending stair-steps, we
climbed up. It took us an entire day to reach the top of
the mountain. Each time we attained the summit of a
mountain, we hoped we should be able to see something like
a valley, but each time came disappointment, for far ahead
was always another and higher mountain. We found some
springs, or, as we called them, wells, from five to twenty feet
under ground, as you might say, for they were under the
snow on which we walked. The water was so warm that it
melted the snow, and from some of these springs were large
streams of running water. We crossed numbers of these
streams on bridges of snow, which would sometimes form
upon a blade of grass hanging over the water; and from so
small a foundation would grow a bridge from ten to twenty-
five feet high, and from a foot and a half to three feet across
the top. It would make you dizzy to look down at the
water, and it was with much difficulty we could place our
clumsy ox-bow snow-shoes one ahead of the other without
falling. Our feet had been frozen and thawed so many times
that they were bleeding and sore. When we stopped at
night we would take off our shoes, which by this time were
so badly rotted by constant wetting in snow, that there was
very little left of them. In the morning we would push our
shoes on, bruising and numbing the feet so badly that they
would ache and ache with walking and the cold, until night
ACORN BREAD.
would come again. Oh ! the pain ! It seemed to make the
pangs of hunger more excruciating."
Thus the party traveled on day after day, until absolute
starvation again stared them in the face. The snow had
gradually grown less deep, until finally it disappeared or lay
only in patches. Their strength was well-nigh exhausted,
when one day Mary Graves says: "Some one called out,
'Here are tracks!' Some one asked, 'What kind of tracks — •
human?' 'Yes, human!' Can any one imagine the joy
these footprints gave us? We ran as fast as our strength
would carry us."
Turning a chaparral point, they came in full view of an
Indian rancherie. The uncivilized savages were amazed.
Never had they seen such forlorn, wretched, pitiable human
beings, as the tattered, disheveled, skeleton creatures who
stood stretching out their arms for assistance. At first, they
all ran and hid, but soon they returned to the aid of these
dying wretches. It is said that the Indian women and chil-
dren cried, and wailed with grief at the affecting .spectacle of
starved men and women. Such food as they had was speedily
offered. It was bread made of acorns. This was eagerly
eaten. It was at least a substitute for food. Every person
in the rancherie, from the toddling papooses to the aged chief,
endeavored to aid them.
After what had recently happened, could anything be more
touching than these acts of kindness of the Indians?
After briefly resting, they pressed forward. The Indians
accompanied and even led them, and constantly supplied
them with food. With food? No, it was not such food as
their weakened, debilitated systems craved. The acorn bread
was not sufficient to sustain lives already so attenuated by
repeated starvations. All that the starved experience in the
way of pain and torture before they die, had been experi-
HO HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
enced by these people at least four different times. To their
horror, they now discovered that despite the acorn bread,
they must die of hunger and exhaustion a fifth and last time.
So sick and weak did they become, that they were compelled
to lie down and rest every hundred yards. Finally, after be-
ing with the Indians seven days, they lay down, and felt that
they never should have strength to take another step. Be-
fore them, in all its beauty and loveliness, spread the broad
valley of the Sacramento. Behind them were the ever-plead-
ing faces of their starving dear ones. Yet neither hope nor
affection could give them further strength. They were dying
in full view of the long-desired haven of rest.
One of the number was hardly so near death's door as his
companions. It was W. H. Eddy. As a last resort, their
faithful allies, the Indians, took him upon either side, and
fairly carried him along. His feet moved, but they were
frozen, and blistered, and cracked, and bleeding. Left alone,
he would have fallen helplessly to the earth. It was as terri-
ble a journey as ever mortal man performed. How far he
traveled, he knew not. During the last six miles his path
was marked by blood-stains from his swollen feet.
By making abridgments from valuable manuscript contrib-
uted by George W. Tucker, of Calistoga, this narrative may
be appropriately continued. Mr. Tucker's father and rela-
tives had reached Johnson's Ranch on the twenty-fifth of
October, 1846. They had been with the Donner Party until
Fort Bridger was reached, and then took the Fort Hall road.
Their journey had been full of dangers and difficulties, and
reaching Johnson's Ranch, the first settlement on the west
side of the Sierra, they determined to remain during the
winter.
One evening, about the last of January, Mr. Tucker says a
man was seen coming down Bear River, accompanied by an
ORGANIZING THE FIRST RELIEF PARTY. Ill
Indian. His haggard, forlorn look showed he was in great
distress. When he reached us, he said he was of the Donner
Party. He told briefly how the train had been caught in the
snow east of the mountains, and was unable to get back or
forward. He told how the fifteen had started, and that six
beside himself were still alive. That the six were back in the
mountains, almost starved. R. P. Tucker and three other
men started at once with provisions, the Indian acting as
guide. They reached them, fifteen miles back, some time
during the night, and brought them in the next day. The
names of the seven were W. H. Eddy, William Foster, Mrs.
S. A. C. Foster, Mrs. H. F. Pike, Mrs. William McCutchen,
Mrs. Sarah Fosdick, and Mary Graves. It had been thirty-
two days since they left Donner Lake!
At Johnson's Ranch there were only three or four families
of poor emigrants. Nothing could be done toward relieving
those at Donner Lake until help could arrive from Sutter's
Fort. A rainy winter had flooded Bear River, and rendered
the Sacramento plains a vast quagmire. Yet one man volun-
teered to go to Sacramento with the tale of horror, and get
men and provisions. This man was John Rhodes. Lashing
two pine logs together with rawhides, and forming a raft,
John Rhodes was ferried over Bear River. Taking his shoes
in his hands, and rolling his pants up above his knees, he
started on foot through water that frequently was from one
to three feet deep. Some time during the night he reached
the Fort.
A train in the mountains! Men, women, and children
starving! It was enough to make one's blood curdle to think
of it! Captain Sutter, generous old soul, and Alcalde Sin-
clair, who lived at Norris' Ranch two and a half miles from
the Fort, offered provisions, and five or six men volunteered
to carry them over the mountains. In about a week, six
112 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
men, fully provided with supplies, reached Johnson's Ranch.
Meantime the Tuckers and their neighbors had slaughtered
five or six fat cattle, and had dried or "jerked" the meat.
The country was scoured for horses and mules, and for sad-
dles and pack-saddles, but at last, in ten or twelve days, they
were ready to start. Alcalde Sinclair had come up from the
Fort, and when all were ready to begin their march, he made
them a thrilling little address. They were, he said, starting
out upon a hazardous journey. Nothing could justify them
in attempting so perilous an undertaking except the obliga-
tions due to their suffering fellow-men. He urged them to do
all in their power, without sacrificing their lives, to save the
perishing emigrants from starvation and death. He then ap-
pointed Reasin P. Tucker, the father of our informant, captain
of the company. With a pencil he carefully wrote down the
name of each man in the relief party. The names were John
Rhodes, Daniel Rhodes, Aquilla Glover, R. S. Mootrey, Jo-
seph Foster, Edward Coffeemire, M. D. Ritchie, James Cur-
tis, William H. Eddy, William Coon, R. P. Tucker, George
W. Tucker, and Adolph Brueheim. Thus the first relief party
started.
CHAPTER X.
A Lost Age in California History — The Change Wrought by the Discovery of
Gold — The Start from Johnson's Ranch — A Bucking Horse — A Night Ride
— Lost in the Mountains — A Terrible Night — A Flooded Camp — Crossing
a Mountain Torrent — Mule Springs — A Crazy Companion — Howlings of
Gray Wolves — A Deer Rendezvous — A Midnight Thief — Frightening In-
dians—The Diary of the First Relief Party.
j^ALIFORNIA, at this time, was sparsely settled, and it
jw£ was a fearful undertaking to cross the snowy mount-
|" ains to the relief of the storm-bound emigrants. A
jffllhb better idea of the difficulties to be encountered by the
A 9 4
4> various relief parties can not be presented than by
quoting from the manuscript of George W. Tucker. This
gentleman was sixteen years old at the time of the occur-
rences narrated, and his account is vouched for as perfectly
truthful and reliable. This sketch, like the remainder of this
book, treats of an epoch in California history which has
been almost forgotten. The scene of his adventures is laid
in a region familiar to thousands of miners and early Call-
fornians. Along the route over which he passed with so
much difficulty, scores of mining camps sprung up soon after
the discovery of gold, and every flat, ravine, and hill-slope
echoed to pick, and shovel, and pan, and to voices of legions
1 14 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
of men. Truly, his narration relates to a lost, an almost un-
remembered era in the history of the famous mining coun-
ties, Placer and Nevada. In speaking of the first relief party,
he says:
"We mounted our horses and started. The ground was
very soft among the foothills, but we got along very well for
two or three miles after leaving Johnson's ranch. Finally,
one of our pack-horses broke through the crust, and down
he went to his sides in the mud. He floundered and plunged
until the pack turned underneath his body. He then came
out of the mud, bucking and kicking; and he bucked and
kicked, and kicked and bucked, till he cleared himself of the-
pack, pack-saddle and all, and away he went back to the
ranch. We gathered up the pack, put it upon the horse
Eddy was riding, and the party travele.d on. Eddy and my-
self were to go back to the ranch, catch the horse, and return-
ing, overtake them. We failed to find the horse that day, but
the next morning an Indian got on my horse, and, about nine
o'clock, succeeded in finding the missing animal. My horse,
however, was pretty well run down when he got back. Eddy
and myself started about ten o'clock. We had to travel in
one day what the company had traveled in two days. About
the time we started it commenced clouding up, and we saw
we were going to have a storm. We went on until about one
o'clock, when my horse gave out. It commenced raining and
was very cold. Eddy said he would ride on and overtake the
company, if possible, and have them stop. He did not over-
take them until about dark, after they had camped.
"My horse could only go in a slow walk, so I walked and
led him to keep from freezing. The rain continued to in-
crease in volume, and by dark it was coming down in torrents.
It was very cold. The little stream began to rise, but I waded
through, though sometimes it came up to my armpits. It
A TERRIBLE NIGHT. 1 15
was very dark, but I kept going on in hopes I would come in
sight of the camp-fire. But the darkness increased, and it
was very difficult to find the road. I would get down on my
knees and feel for the road with my hands. Finally, about
nine o'clock, it became so dark that I could not see a tree
until I would run against it, and I was almost exhausted
dragging my horse after me. I had lost the road several
times, but found it by feeling for the wagon-ruts. At last I
came to where the road made a short turn around the point
of a hill, and I went straight ahead until I got forty or fifty
yards from the road. I crawled around for some time on my
knees, but could not find it. I knew if the storm was raging
in the morning. as it was then, if I got very far from the road,
I could not tell which was east, west, north, or south, I might
get lost and perish before the storm ceased, so I concluded to
stay right there until morning. I had no blanket, and, nothing
on me but a very light coat and pair of pants. I tied my
horse to a little pine tree, and sitting down, leaned against
the tree. The rain came down in sheets. The wind blew,
and the old pine trees clashed their limbs together. It seemed
to me that a second deluge had come. I would get so cold
that I would get up and walk around for a while. It seemed
to me I should surely freeze. Toward morning I began to
get numb, and felt more comfortable, but that was the longest
and hardest night I ever experienced.
"In the morning, when it became light enough so that I
could see two or three rods, I got up, but my legs were so
numb that I could not walk. I rolled around until I got up
a circulation, and could stand on my feet. Leaving my horse
tied to the tree, I found the road, went about a hundred yards
around the point of a hill, and saw the camp-fire up in a little
flat about a quarter of a mile from where I had spent the
tight. Going up to camp, 1 found the men all standing
Jl6 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
around a fire they had made, where two large pines had
fallen across each other. They had laid down pine bark and
pieces of wood to keep them out of the water. They had
stood up all night. The water was running two or three
inches deep all through the camp. When I got to the fire,
and began to get warm, my legs and arms began to swell so
that I could hardly move or get my hands to my face.
" It never ceased raining all that day nor the next night,
and we were obliged to stand around the fire. Everything
we had was wet. They had stacked up our dried beef and
flour in a pile, and put the saddles and pack saddles over it
as well as they could, but still it got more or less wet. The
third morning it stopped raining about daylight, and the sun
came out clear and warm. We made scaffolds and spread
our meat all out, hung up our blankets and clothing on lines,
and by keeping up fires and with the help of the sun, we
managed to get everything dry by night. The next morning
we packed up and started on until we came to a little valley,
where we found some grass for our horses. We stayed there
that night. The next day we got to Steep Hollow Creek,
one of the branches of Bear River. This stream was not
more than a hundred feet wide, but it was about twenty feet
deep, and the current was very swift. We felled a large pine
tree across it, but the center swayed down so that the water
ran over it about a foot deep. We tied ropes together and
stretched them across to make a kind of hand railing, and
succeeded in carrying over all our things. We undertook to
make our horses swim the creek, and finally forced two of
them into the stream, but as soon as they struck the current
they were carried down faster than we could run. One of
them at last reached the bank and got ashore, but the other
went down under the tree we had cut, and the first we saw of
him he came up about twenty yards below, heels upward.
A CRAZY COMPANION. 1 1/
He finally struck a drift about a hundred yards below, and
we succeeded in getting him out almost drowned. We then
tied ropes together, part of the men went over, and tying a
rope to each horse, -those on one side would force him into
the water, and the others would draw him across. We lost
a half day at this place. That night we climbed a high
mountain, and came to snow. Camped that night without
any feed for our horses. The next day, about noon, we
reached Mule Springs. The snow was from three to four
feet deep, and it was impossible to go any farther with the
horses. Unpacking the animals, Joe Varro and Wm. Eddy
started back with them to Johnson's Ranch. The rest of us
went to work and built a brush tent in which to keep our
provisions. We set forks into the ground, laid poles across,
and covered them with cedar boughs. We finished them
that evening, and the next morning ten of the men fixed up
their packs, consisting of dried beef and flour, and started on
foot, each one carrying about seventy-five pounds. They left
Billy Coon and myself to watch the provisions until they re-
turned. I have never been in that country since, but I think
Mule Springs is on the opposite side of Bear River from
Dutch Flat.
"After the men had all gone, I amused myself the first day
by getting wood and cutting cedar limbs to finish our camp
with. My companion, Billy Coon, was partially insane, and
was no company at all. He would get up in the morning,
eat his food, and then lie down and sleep for two or three
hours. He would only talk when he was spoken to; and all
he knew was to sleep and eat. I got very lonesome, and
would sit for hours thinking of our situation. Sixty miles
from any human habitation! Surrounded with wild Indians
and wild beasts! Then, when I would look away at the
snow-capped peaks of the Sierra, and think that my father
Il8 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and the rest of the men where there, toiling under the heavy
loads which they carried, I became still more gloomy. When
night would come, the big gray wolves that had collected on
the mountains facing to the south, where the snow had
melted off, would set up their howlings. This, with the dis-
mal sound of the wind roaring through the tall pine trees,
was almost unendurable. To this day, when I am in pine
timber, and hear the wind sighing through the tree-tops, I
always think of the Donner Party and of those lonely days
in the mountains.
" The third day after the men left I became so lonesome
that I took the gun and went down in the direction in which
I had heard the wolves howling. When I got down out of
the snow, I found the deer had collected there by the hun-
dreds. I killed two deer; went up and got Billy Coon, and
we carried them up to camp. We hung one on each corner
of our brush tent, not more than six feet from our bed, and
not more than four feet from the fire. Next morning one of
the deer was gone! I supposed the Indians had found us out
and stolen it; but when I looked for tracks I found the thief
had been a California lion. I tracked him two or three hun-
dred yards, but he had walked off with the deer so easily, I
thought he might keep it. That afternoon I went down to
kill another deer, but when I reached a point from which I
could see down to the river, I saw the smoke of an Indian
camp. I was afraid to shoot for fear the Indians would hear
the gun, and finding out we were there, would come up and
give us trouble. I started back, and when in sight of camp
I sat down on a log to rest. While sitting there I saw three
Indians coming up the hill. I sat still to see what they would
do. They came up to within sight of the camp, and all
crawled up behind a large sugar-pine tree, and sat there
watching the camp. I did not like their movements, so
THE DIARY OF THE FIRST RELIEF PARTY. 119
thought I would give them a scare. I leveled the old gun at
the tree, about six feet above their heads, and fired away.
They got away from there faster than they came, and I never
saw them afterwards.
" On the fifth day after the men left, three of them came
back to the camp. They informed me they had been three
days in traveling from Mule Springs to Bear Valley, a dis-
tance of twelve miles. These three had found it impossible
to stand the journey, but the other seven had started on
from Bear Valley. It was thought they could never get
over to Truckee Lake, for the snow was so soft it was im-
possible to carry their heavy loads through from ten to thirty
feet of it."
M. D. Ritchie and R. P. Tucker kept a diary of the jour-
ney of the first relief party, which, thanks to Patty Reed,
now Mrs. Frank Lewis, is before us. It is brief, concise,
pointed, and completes the narration of Mr. George W.
Tucker. Mr. Ritchie's diary reads:
"Feb. 5, 1847. First day traveled ten miles. Bad roads;
often miring down horses and mules. On the sixth and sev-
enth traveled fifteen miles. Road continued bad; commenced
raining before we got to camp, and continued to rain all that
day and night very severe. Lay by here on the eighth to
dry our provisions and clothing.
" Feb. 9. Traveled fifteen miles. Swam the animals over
one creek, and carried the provisions over on a log.
" Feb. 10. Traveled four miles; came to the snow; contin-
ued about four miles further. Animals floundering in snow,
and camped at the Mule Springs.
"Feb. ii. Mr. Eddy started back with the animals; left
William Coon and George Tucker to guard what provisions
were left in camp; the other ten men, each taking about fifty
pounds, except Mr. Curtis, who took about twenty-five
I2O % HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
pounds. Traveled on through the snow, having a very severe
day's travel over mountains, making about six miles. Camped
on Bear River, near a cluster of large pines.
"Feb. 12. Moved camp about two miles, and stopped to
make snow-shoes ; tried them on and found them of no ben-
efit ; cast them away.
"Feb. 13. Made Bear Valley. Upon digging for Curtis'
wagon, found the snow ten feet deep, and the provisions de-
stroyed by the bears. Rain and snow fell on us all night."
By Curtis' wagon is meant a cache made by Reed and Mc-
Cutchen, which will be described in the next chapter.
"Feb. 14. Fine weather."
From this time forward, the journal was kept by Reasin P.
Tucker.
"Feb. 15. Fine day. Three of our men decline going
any further — W. D. Ritchie, A. Brueheim, and James Curtis.
Only seven men being left, the party was somewhat discour-
aged. We consulted together, and under existing circum-
stances I took it upon myself to insure every man who
persevered to the end, five dollars per day from the time they
entered the snow. We determined to go ahead, and camped
to-night on Yuba River, after traveling fifteen miles.
"Feb. 1 6. Traveling very bad, and snowing. Made but
five miles, and camped in snow fifteen feet deep.
"Feb. 17. Traveled five miles.
"Feb. 1 8. Traveled eight miles, and camped on the head
of the Yuba ; on the pass we suppose the snow to be thirty
feet deep."
The "pass" was the Summit. Relief was close at hand.
Would it find the emigrants ?
CHAPTER XL
Hardships of Reed and Herron — Generosity of Captain Sutter — Attempts to
Cross the Mountains with Provisions — Curtis' Dog — Compelled to Turn
Back — Hostilities with Mexico — Memorial to Gov. Stockton — Yerba Buena's
Generosity — Johnson's Liberality — Pitiful Scenes at Donner Lake — Noble
Mothers — Dying rather than Eat Human Flesh — A Mother's Prayer —
Tears of Joy — Eating the Shoestrings.
F. REED encountered the most disheartening
trials after leaving the Donner Party. He and Walter
Herron were reduced to the utmost verge of starvation
while on the Sierra Nevada. At one time they dis-
covered five beans in the road, one after the other;
and at another time they ate of the rancid tallow which was
found in a tar bucket under an old wagon.
Mr. Reed has told the rest in an article contributed by
him to the Rural Press. It explains so well the difficulties
of getting relief to the emigrants, that it is copied :
"When I arrived at Captain Sutter's, making known my
situation to him, asking if he would furnish me horses and
saddles to bring the women and children out of the moun-
tains (I expected to meet them at the head of Bear Valley
by the time I could return there), he at once complied with
the request, also saying that he would do everything possible
122 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
for me and the company. On the evening of my arrival at
the Captain's, I found Messrs. Bryant, Lippencott, Grayson,
and Jacobs, some of the early voyagers in the Russel Com-
pany, they having left that company at Fort Laramie, most
of them coming on horseback.
" During the evening a meeting was held, in which I par-
ticipated, adopting a memorial to the commander of Sutter's
Fort, to raise one or more companies of volunteers, to pro-
ceed to Los Angeles, we being at war with Mexico at this
time. The companies were to be officered by the petitioners.
Being requested to take command of one of the companies,
I declined, stating that it would be necessary for the captain
to stay with the company; also that I had to return to the
mountains for the emigrants, but that I would take a lieu-
tenancy. This was agreed to, and I was on my return to
the emigrants to enlist all the men I could between there and
Bear Valley. On my way up I enlisted twelve or thirteen.
"The second night after my arrival at Captain Sutter's, we
had a light rain; next morning we could see snow on the
mountains. The Captain stated that it was low down and
heavy for the first fall of the season. The next day I started
on my return with what horses and saddles Captain Sutter
had to spare. He furnished us all the flour needed, and a
hind quarter of beef, giving us an order for more horses and
saddles at Mr. Cordway's, near where Marysville is located.
In the mean time, Mr. McCutchen joined us, he being pre-
vented from returning with Mr. Stanton on account of sick-
ness. After leaving Mr. Johnson's ranch we had thirty horses,
one mule, and two Indians to help drive.
" Nothing happened until the evening before reaching the
head of Bear Valley, when there commenced a heavy rain
and sleet, continuing all night. We drove on until a late
hour before halting. We secured the flour and horses, the
C. T. STANTON
(Photographed from an Oil Painting.)
1844.
COMPELLED TO TURN BACK. 123
rain preventing us from kindling a fire. Next morning, pro-
ceeding up the valley to where we were to take the mountain,
we found a tent containing a Mr. Curtis and wife. They
hailed us as angels sent for their delivery, stating that they
would have perished had it not been for our arrival. Mrs.
Curtis stated that they had killed their dog, and at the time
of our arrival had the last piece in the Dutch oven baking.
We told them not to be alarmed about anything to eat, for
we had plenty, both of flour and beef, and that they were
welcome to all they needed. Our appetites were rather keen,
not having eaten anything from the morning previous. Mr.
Curtis remarked that in the oven was a piece of the dog and
we could have it. Raising the lid of the oven, we found the
dog well baked, and having a fine savory smell. I cut out a rib,
smelling and tasting, found it to be good, and handed it over
to McCutchen, who, after smelling it some time, tasted it and
pronounced it very good dog. We partook of Curtis' dog.
Mrs. Curtis immediately commenced making bread, and in a
short time had supper for all.
"At the lower end of the valley, where we entered, the
snow was eighteen inches in depth, and when we arrived at
the tent, it was two feet. Curtis stated that his oxen had
taken the back track, and that he had followed them by the
trail through the snow. In the morning, before leaving, Mrs.
Curtis got us to promise to take them into the settlement
when on our return with the women and children. Before
leaving, we gave them flour and beef sufficient to keep them
until our return, expecting to do so in a few days.
"We started, following the trail made by the oxen, and
camped a number of miles up the mountain. In the night,
hearing some of the horses going down the trail, we went to
where the Indians had lain down, and found them gone.
McCutchen mounted his horse and rode down to Curtis'
124 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
camp, and found that the Indians had been there, stopped
and warmed themselves, and then started down the valley.
He returned to camp about the middle of the night.
" Next morning we started, still on the trail of the oxen,
but unfortunately, the trail turned off to the left from our
direction. We proceeded on, the snow deepening rapidly,
our horses struggling to get through; we pushed them on
until they would rear upon their hind feet to breast the snow,
and when they would alight they would sink in it until
nothing was seen of them but the nose and a portion of the
head. Here we found that it was utterly impossible to pro-
ceed further with the horses. Leaving them, we proceeded
further on foot, thinking that we could get in to the people,
but found that impossible, the snow being soft and deep.
" I may here state that neither of us knew anything about
snow-shoes, having always lived in a country where they
never were used.
"With sorrowful hearts, we arrived that night at the camp
of Mr. Curtis, telling them to make their arrangements for
leaving with us in the morning. Securing our flour in the
wagon of Mr. Curtis, so that we could get it on our return,
we packed one horse with articles belonging to Mr. and Mrs.
Curtis, and started down the valley to where the snow was
light, and where there was considerable underbrush, so that
our famished animals could browse, they not having eaten
anything for several days.
"After packing Mr. Curtis' horse for him the next morn-
ing, we started; in a short time, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis pro-
ceeded ahead, leaving the pack-horse behind for us to drive,
instead of his leading him; we having our hands full in driv-
ing the loose ones, they scattering in all directions. The
pack turned on the horse. Mr. Curtis was requested to re-
turn and help repack and lead his horse, but he paid no at-
HOSTILITIES WITH MEXICO. 125
tention to us. We stood this for some time; finally,
McCutchen became angry, started after him, determined to
bring him back; when he got with him he paid no attention
to McCutchen's request to return; Mac becoming more
exasperated, hit him several times over the shoulders with
his riatta. This brought him to his senses. He said that if
Mac would not kill, him, he would come back and take care
of the pack animal, and he did.
"As soon as we arrived at Captain Sutter's, I made a state-
ment of all the circumstances attending our attempt to get
into the mountains. He was no way surprised at our defeat.
I also gave the Captain the number of head of cattle the
company had when I left them. He made an estimate, and
stated that if the emigrants would kill the cattle, and place
the meat in the snow for preservation, there was no fear of
starvation until relief could reach them. He further stated
that there were no able-bodied men in that vicinity, all hav-
ing gone down the country with and after Fremont to fight
the Mexicans. He advised me to proceed to Yerba Buena,
now San Francisco, and make my case known to the naval
officer in command.
" I left Captain Sutter's, by the way of San Jose, for San
Francisco, being unable to come by water. When I arrived
at San Jose, I found the San Francisco side of the bay was
occupied by the Mexicans. Here I remained, and was at-
tached to a company of volunteers, commanded by Captain
Webber, until after the fight at Santa Clara.
" The road now being clear, I proceeded to San Francisco
with a petition from some of the prominent citizens of San
Jose, asking the commander of the navy to grant aid to en-
able me to return to the mountains."
It is proper, perhaps, to interrupt the narrative in the Rural
Press for the purpose of introducing the memorial referred to
126 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
by Mr. Reed. The copy of the original document was re-
cently found among his papers by his daughter, Patty Reed:
"To his Excellency, R. F. Stockton, Governor and Com-
mander-in-Chief, by sea and land, of the United States Terri-
tory of California: We, the undersigned citizens and residents
of the Territory of California, beg leave respectfully to pre-
sent to your Excellency the following memorial, viz.: That,
whereas, the last detachment of emigrants from the United
States to California have been unable, from unavoidable
causes, to reach the frontier settlements, and are now in the
California mountains, seventy-five or one hundred miles east
from the Sacramento Valley, surrounded by snow, most
probably twenty feet deep, and being about eighty souls in
number, a large proportion of whom are women and chil-
dren, who must shortly be in a famishing condition from
scarcity of provisions, therefore, the undersigned most earn-
estly beseech your Excellency to take into consideration the
propriety of fitting out an expedition to proceed on snow-
shoes immediately to the relief of the sufferers. Your memo-
rialists beg leave to subscribe themselves, very respectfully,
yours, etc.
"January, 1847."
The article in the Rural Press continues: "Arriving at San
Francisco, I presented my petition to Commodore Hull, also
making a statement of the condition of the people in the
mountains as far as I knew, the number of them, and what
would be needed in provisions and help to get them out. He
made an estimate of the expense, and said that he would do
anything within reason to further the object, but was afraid
that the department at Washington would not sustain him if
he made the general outfit. His sympathy was that of a man
and a gentleman.
JOHNSON'S LIBERALITY. 127
"I also conferred with several of the citizens of Yerba
Buena ; their advice was not to trouble the Commodore fur-
ther; that they would call a meeting of the citizens and see
what could be done. At the meeting, the situation of the
people was made known, and committees were appointed to
collect money. Over a thousand dollars was raised in the
town, and the sailors of the fleet gave over three hundred dol-
lars. At the meeting, Midshipman Woodworth volunteered
to go into the mountains. Commodore Hull gave me au-
thority to raise as many men, with horses, as would be re-
quired. The citizens purchased all the supplies necessary for
the outfit, and placed them on board the schooner , for
Hardy's Ranch, mouth of Feather River. Midshipman Wood-
worth took charge of the schooner, and was the financial
agent of the government.
" I left in a boat for Napa by way of Sonoma, to procure
men and horses, and when I arrived at Mr. Gordon's, on
Cache Creek, I had all the men and horses needed. From
here I proceeded to the mouth of Feather River for the pur-
pose of meeting Mr. Woodworth with the provisions. When
we reached the river the boat had not arrived. The water
was very high in the river, the tule lands being overflowed.
From here I sent a man to a point on the Sacramento River
opposite Sutter's Fort, to obtain information of the boat with
our provisions ; he returned and reported the arrival of the
boat at the Fort.
" Before leaving Yerba Buena, news came of a party of fif-
teen persons having started from the emigrant encampment,
and only seven getting to Johnson's. I was here placed in a
quandary — no boat to take us across the river, and no pro-
visions for our party to take into the mountains. We camped
a short distance back from the river, where we killed a num-
ber of elk for the purpose of using the skins in covering a
128 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
skeleton boat. Early next morning we started for the river,
and to our delight saw a small schooner, belonging to Perry
McCan, which had arrived during the night. We immedi-
ately crossed, McCutchen and myself, to the opposite bank
of the river. I directed the men to cross and follow us to
Johnson's Ranch. We arrived there early that day. Making
known our situation, he drove his cattle up to the house, say-
ing, 'There are the cattle, take as many as you need.' We
shot down five head, staid up all night, and with the help of
Mr. Johnson and his Indians, by the time the men arrived the
next morning, we had the meat fire-dried and ready to be
placed in bags. Mr. Johnson had a party of Indians making
flour by hand mills, they making, during the night, nearly
two hundred pounds.
" We packed up immediately and started. After reaching
the snow, the meat and flour was divided into suitable packs
for us to carry, we leaving the horses here. At Johnson's I
learned that a relief party had passed in a few days previous,
being sent by Captain Sutter and Mr. Sinclair."
This was the party commanded by Captain Reasin P.
Tucker, whose journey over the mountains as far as the sum-
mit was described in the last chapter. Reed was faithful and
energetic in endeavoring to recross the mountains. Mr. Mc-
Cutchen, also, did all in his power to reach the wife and baby
he left behind. The snow belt is about four times as wide
on the west side of the summit as it is on the east side. It
was almost impossible for relief parties to cross the moun-
tains. Captain Tucker's party was composed of men of great
nerve and hardihood, yet, as will be seen, the trip was almost
as much as their lives were worth.
On the morning of the nineteenth of February, 1847, the
relief party of Captain R. P. Tucker began the descent of the
gorge leading to Donner Lake.
NOBLE MOTHERS.
Let us glance ahead at the picture soon to be unfolded to
their gaze. The mid-winter snows had almost concealed the
cabins. The inmates lived subterranean lives. Steps cut in
the icy snow led up from the doorways to the surface. Deep
despair had settled upon all hearts. The dead were lying all
around, some even unburied, and nearly all with only a cov-
ering of snow. So weak and powerless had the emigrants
become, that it was hardly possible for them to lift the dead
bodies up the steps out of the cabins. All were reduced to
mere skeletons. They had lived on pieces of rawhide, or on
old, castaway bones, which were boiled or burned until capa-
ble of being eaten. They were so reduced that it seemed as
if only a dry, shriveled skin covered their emaciated frames.
The eyes were sunken deep in their sockets, and had a fierce,
ghastly, demoniacal look. The faces were haggard, woe-
begone, and sepulchral. One seldom heard the sound of a
voice, and when heard, it was weak, tremulous, pitiful.
Sometimes a child would moan and sob for a mouthful of
food, and the poor, helpless mothers, with breaking hearts,
would have to soothe them, as best they could, with kind
words and tender caresses. Food, there was none. Oh!
what words can fitly frame a tribute for those noble mothers!
When strong men gave up, and passively awaited the delirium
of death, the mothers were actively administering to the wants
of the dying, and striving to cheer and comfort the living.
Marble monuments never bore more heroic names than those
of Margaret W. Reed, Lavina Murphy, Elizabeth Graves,
Margaret Breen, Tamsen Donner, and Elizabeth Donner.
I Their charity, fortitude, and self-sacrifice failed not in the
I darkest hour. Death came so often now, that little notice
I was taken of his approach, save by these mothers. A dread-
ful want of consciousness precedes starvation. The actual
I death is not so terrible- The delirious would rave of feasts,
9
I3O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and rich viands, and bountiful stores of food. As the shad-
ows of death more closely enveloped the poor creatures, the
mutterings grew unintelligible, and were interrupted, now and
then, by startled cries of frenzy, which gradually grew
fainter, until the victims finally slumbered. From this
slumber there was no awakening. The breathing became
feebler and more irregular, and finally ceased. It was not so
terrible to the unconscious dying, as to the weeping mother
who watched by the sufferer's side.
It was always dark and gloomy enough in the snow-
covered cabins, but during the fierce, wild storms, the desola-
tion became almost unendurable. The rushing gale, the i
furious storm, the lashing of storm-rent pine boughs, or the !
crash of giant trees overthrown by the hurricane, filled the
souls of the imprisoned emigrants with nameless dread, j
Sometimes the silent darkness of the night would shudder
with the howl of the great gray wolves which in those days
infested the mountains. Too well did they know that these
gaunt beasts were howling for the bodies of the living as well
as of the dead.
Wood grew plentifully at short distances from the cabins,
but for these weak, starving creatures to obtain it was a
herculean task. To go out when the storms were raging,
would be almost impossible for a well, strong man. To
struggle through the deep, loose drifts, reaching frequently
to the waist, required, at any time, fearful exertion. The
numb, fleshless fingers could hardly guide, or even wield
the ax. Near the site of the Breen cabin, to-day, stands a
silent witness of the almost superhuman exertions that were
made to procure fuel. On the side of a pine tree are old
seams and gashes, which, by their irregular position, were
evidently made by hands too weak to cut down a tree. Hun-
dreds of blows, however, were struck, and the marks of
RATHER THAN EAT HUMAN FLESH. 131
the ax-blade extend up and down the side of the tree for a
foot and a half. Bark seared with age has partly covered
portions of the cuts, but in one place the incision is some
inches deep. At the foot of this pine was found a short, de-
cayed ax-handle, and a broad-bladed, old-fashioned ax-head.
The mute story of these witnesses is unmistakable. The poor
starved being who undertook the task, never succeeded.
Trees felled, frequently buried themselves out of sight in
the loose snow, or at best, only the uppermost branches
could be obtained. Without fire, without food, without
proper shelter from the dampness occasioned by the melting
snows, in the bitter, biting wintry weather, the men, women,
and children were huddled together, the living and the dead.
When Milton Elliott died, there were no men to assist in re-
moving the body from the deep pit. Mrs. Reed and her
daughter, Virginia, bravely undertook the task. Tugging,
pushing, lifting as best they could, the corpse was raised up
the icy steps. He died in the Murphy cabin by the rock. A
few days before he died, he crawled over to the Breen cabin,
where were Mrs. Reed and her children. For years he had
been one of the members of this family. He worked for
Mr. Reed in the mill and furniture establishment owned by
the latter in Jamestown, Illinois. He drove the same yoke
of oxen, "Bully" and "George," who were the wheel-oxen
of Reed's family team on the plains. When Mr. Reed pro-
posed crossing the plains, his wife and children refused to go,
unless Milt, could be induced to drive. He was a kind, care-
ful man, and after Mr. Reed had been driven away from the
company, Elliott always provided for them as best he was
able. Now that he was going to die, he wanted to see " Ma "
and the children once more. " Ma " was the term he always
used in addressing Mrs. Reed. None realized better than he
the sorrowful position in which she was placed by having no
132 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
husband upon whom to lean in this time of great need. Poor
Elliott! he knew that he was starving! starving! "Ma, I am
not going to starve to death, I am going to eat of the bodies
of the dead." This is what he told Mrs. Reed, yet when he
attempted to do so, his heart revolted at the thought. Mrs.
Reed accompanied him a portion of the way back to the
Murphy cabin, and before leaving him, knelt on the snow
and prayed as only a mother can, that the Good Father
would help them in this hour of distress. It was a starving
Christian mother praying that relief might come to her starv-
ing children, and especially to this, her starving boy. From
the granite rocks, the solemn forests, and the snow-mantled
mountains of Donner Lake, a more fervent prayer never
ascended heavenward. Could Elliott have heard, in his
dying moments, that this prayer was soon to be answered,
so far as Mrs. Reed and her little ones were concerned, he
would have welcomed death joyfully.
As time wore wearily on, another and more severe trial
awaited Mrs. Reed. Her daughter Virginia was dying. The
innutritious rawhide was not sufficient to sustain life in the
poor, famished body of the delicate child. Indeed, toward
the last, her system became so debilitated that she found it
impossible to eat the loathsome, glue-like preparation which
formed their only food. Silently she had endured her suffer-
ings, until she was at the very portals of death. This beauti-
ful girl was a great favorite of Mrs. Breen's. Oftentimes
during the days of horror and despair, this good Irish mother
had managed, unobserved, to slip an extra piece of meat or
morsel of food to Virginia. Mrs. Breen was the first to dis-
cover that the mark of death was visible upon the girl's brow.
In order to break the news to Mrs. Reed, without giving those
in the cabin a shock which might prove fatal, Mrs. Breen
asked the mother up out of the cabin on the crisp, white snow.
TEARS OF JOY. 133
It was the evening of the nineteenth of February, 1847.
The sun was setting, and his rays, in long, lance-like lines,
sifted through the darkening forests. Far to the eastward,
the summits of the Washoe mountains lay bathed in golden
sunlight, while the deep gorges at their 'feet were purpling
into night. The gentle breeze which crept over the bosom
of the ice-bound lake, softly wafted from the tree-tops a muf-
fled dirge for the dying girl. Ere another day dawned over
the expanse of snow, her spirit would pass to a haven of
peace where the demons of famine could never enter.
In the desolate cabin, all was silence. Living under the
snow, passing an underground life, as it were, seldom visiting
each other, or leaving the cabins, these poor prisoners learned
to listen rather than look for relief. During the first days
they watched hour after hour the upper end of the lake where
the "fifteen" had disappeared. With aching eyes and weary
hearts, they always turned back to their subterranean abodes
disappointed. Hope finally deserted the strongest hearts.
The brave mothers had constantly encouraged the despond-
ent by speaking of the promised relief, yet this was prompted
more by the necessities of the situation than from any belief
that help would arrive. It was human nature, however, to
glance toward the towering summits whenever they ascended
to the surface of the snow, and to listen at all times for an
unfamiliar sound or footstep. So delicate became their sense
of hearing, that every noise of the wind, every visitor's tread,
every sound that ordinarily occurred above their heads, was
known and instantly detected.
On this evening, as the two women were sobbing despair-
ingly upon the snow, the silence of the twilight was broken
by a shout from near Donner Lake! In an instant every
person forgot weakness and infirmity, and clambered.up the
stairway! It was a strange voice, and in the distance they
134 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
discovered strange forms approaching. The Reed and the
Breen children thought, at first, that it was a band of Indians,
but Patrick Breen, the good old father, soon declared that
the strangers were white men. Captain Tucker and his men
had found the wide expanse of snow covering forest and
lake, and had shouted to attract attention, if any of the emi-
grants yet survived. Oh! what joy! There were tears in
other eyes than those of the little children. The strong men
of the relief party sat down on the snow and wept with the
rest. It is related of one or two mothers, and can readily be
believed, that their first act was to fall upon their knees, and
with faces turned to God, to pour out their gratitude to Him
for having brought assistance to their dying children. Vir-
ginia Reed did not die.
Captain Reasin P. Tucker, who had been acquainted with
the Graves family on the plains before the Donner Party
took the Hastings Cut-off, was anxious to meet them. They
lived in the lower cabin, half a mile further down Donner
Creek. When he came close enough to observe the smok<
issuing from the hole in the snow which marked their abod<
he shouted, as he had done at the upper cabins. The effe<
was as electrical as in the former instance. All came up to
the surface, and the same unrestrained gladness was mani-
fested by the famished prisoners. Famished they were. Mi
Graves is especially praised by the survivors for her unstint(
chanty. Instead of selfishly hoarding her stores and feeding
only her own children, she was generous to a fault, and no
person ever asked at her door for food who did not receive
as good as she and her little ones had to eat.
Dear Mrs. Graves ! How earnestly she asked about her
husband and daughters! Did all reach the valley? Captain
Tucker felt his heart rise in his throat. How could he tell
this weak, starved woman of the terrible fate which had be-
EATING THE SHOESTRINGS. 135
fallen her husband and her son-in-law ! He could not ! He
answered with assumed cheerfulness in the affirmative. So, .
too, they deceived Mrs. Murphy regarding her dear boy
Lemuel. It was best. Had the dreadful truth been told,
not one of all this company would ever have had courage to
attempt the dangerous journey.
Little sleep was there in the Donner cabins that night.
The relief party were to start back in a couple of days, and
such as were strong enough were to accompany them. Mrs.
Graves had four little children, and told her son William C.
Graves that he must remain with her to cut wood to keep
the little ones from freezing. But William was anxious to
go and help send back provisions to his mother. So earnestly
did he work during the next two days, that he had two cords
of wood piled up near the cabin. This was to last until he
could return. His task was less difficult because this cabin
was built in a dense grove of tamarack.
Food had been given in small quantities to the sufferers.
Many of the snow-bound prisoners were so near death's door
that a hearty meal would have proven fatal. The remnant
of provisions brought by the relief party was carefully
guarded lest some of the famished wretches should obtain
more than was allotted them. This was rendered easier from
the fact that the members of the relief party were unable to
endure the scenes of misery and destitution in the cabins, and
so camped outside upon the snow. So hungry were the
poor people that some of them ate the strings of the snow-
shoes which part of the relief company had brought along.
On the twentieth of February, John Rhodes, R. S. Mootry,
and R. P. Tucker visited the Donner tents on Alder Creek,
seven miles from the cabins. Only one ox-hide remained to
these destitute beings. Here, as well as at the cabins, the
all-important question was, who should go with the relief
136 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
party and who remain. In each family there were little
Children who could not go unless carried. Few of the Don-
ner Party had more than enough strength to travel unen-
cumbered across the deep snows. Should a storm occur on
the mountains, it was doubtful if even the members of the
relief party could escape death. It was hopefully urged that
other relief parties would soon arrive from California, and
that these would bring over those who remained. In de-
termining who should go and who stay, examples of heroism
and devotion were furnished which were never surpassed in
the history of man. Could their vision have penetrated the
veil which interposed between them and the sad occurrences
about to ensue, they would have known that almost every
family, whose members separated, was bidding good-by to
some member forever.
CHAPTER XII.
A Wife's Devotion — Tamsen Donner's Early Life — The Early Settlers of San-
gamon County — An Incident in School — Teaching and Knitting — School
Discipline — Captain George Donner's Appearance — Parting Scenes at
Alder Creek — Starting over the Mountains — A Baby's Death — A Mason's
Vow — Crossing the Snow Barrier — More Precious than Gold or Diamonds
— Elitha Donner's Kindness.
LS. TAMSEN DONNER was well and compara-
tively strong, and could easily have crossed the
mountains in safety with this party. Her husband,
however, was suffering from a serious swelling on
one of his hands. Some time before reaching the
mountains he had accidentally hurt this hand while handling
a wagon. After encamping at Alder Creek he was anxious
to assist in the arrangements and preparations for winter, and
while thus working the old wound reopened. Taking cold in
the hand, it became greatly swollen and inflamed, and he
was rendered entirely helpless. Mrs. Donner was urged to
go with the relief party, but resolutely determined to heed
the promptings of wifely devotion and remain by her
husband.
No one will ever read the history of the Donner Party
without greatly loving and reverencing the character of this
138 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
faithful wife. The saddest, most tear-stained page of the
tragedy, relates to her life and death in the mountains. A
better acquaintance with the Donner family, and especially
with Mrs. Tamsen Donner, can not fail to be desirable in
view of succeeding chapters. Thanks to Mr. Allen Francis,
the present United States Consul at Victoria, British Co-
lumbia, very complete, authentic, and interesting information
upon this subject has been furnished. Mr. Francis was pub-
lisher of the Springfield (Illinois) Journal in 1846, and a
warm personal friend of the family.
The Donners were among the first settlers of Sangamon
County, 111. They were North Carolinians, immigrants to
Kentucky in 1818, subsequently to the State of Indiana, and
from thence to what was known as the Sangamon Country,
in the year 1828.
George Donner, at the time of leaving Springfield, 111.,
was a large, fine-looking man, fully six feet in height, with
merry black eyes, and the blackest of hair, lined with an oc-
casional silver thread. He possessed a cheerful disposition,
an easy temperament, industrious habits, sound judgment,
and much general information. By his associates and neigh-
bors he was called " Uncle George." To him they went for
instructions relating to the management of their farms, and
usually they returned feeling they had been properly advised.
Twice had death bequeathed him a group of motherless chil-
dren, and Tamsen was his third wife.
Her parents, William and Tamsen Eustis, were respected
and well to do residents of Newburyport, Mass., where -she
was born in November, 1801. Her love of books made her
a student at an early age; almost as soon as the baby-dimples
left her cheeks, she sought the school-room, which afforded
her reat enjoyment. Her mother's death occurred before
she attained her seventh year, and for a time her childish
TAMSEN DONNER'S EARLY LIFE. 139
hopes and desires were overshadowed with sadness by this,
her first real sorrow. But the sympathy of friends soothed
her grief, and her thirst for knowledge led her back to the
school-room, where she pursued her studies with greater
eagerness than before.
Her father married again, and little Tamsen's life was ren-
dered happier by this event; for in her step-mother she found
a friend who tenderly directed her thoughts and encouraged
her work. At fifteen years of age she finished the course of
study, and her proficiency in mathematics, geometry, philos-
ophy, etc., called forth the highest praise of her teachers and
learned friends. She, like many daughters of New England,
felt that talents are intrusted to be used, and that each life
is created for some definite purpose. She therefore resolved
to devote herself to the instruction of the young, and after
teaching at Newburyport for a short time, she accepted a call
to fill a vacancy in the academy at Elizabeth City, N. C.,
where she continued an earnest and appreciated teacher for a
number of years. She became a fluent French scholar while
at that institution, and her leisure hours were devoted to the
fine arts. Her paintings and drawings were much admired
for their correctness in outline, subdued coloring, and delicacy
in shading.
In Elizabeth City she met Mr. Dozier, a young man of
education and good family, and they were married. He was
not a man of means, but her forethought enabled them to
live comfortably. For a few brief years she enjoyed all the
happiness which wedded bliss and maternal love could con-
fer, then death came, and in a few short weeks her husband
and two babes were snatched from her arms. In her desola-
tion and bereavement she thought of her old Rome, and
longed for the sympathy of her childhood's friends. She
returned to Newburyport, where she spent three years in re-
I4O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
tirement and rest. In 1836, she received a letter from her
brother in Illinois, urging her to come to his afflicted house-
hold, and teach his motherless children. She remained with
them one winter, but her field of action had been too wide to
permit her to settle quietly on a farm. Besides, she had
heard much of the manner in which country schools were
conducted, and became desirous of testing her ability in con-
trolling and teaching such a school. She obtained one in
Auburn, and soon became the friend of her pupils. All
agreed that Mrs. Dozier was a faithful teacher until the fol-
lowing little incident occurred. The worthy Board of School
Trustees heard that Mrs. Dozier was in the habit of knitting
during school hours. " Surely, she could not knit and in-
struct her pupils properly; therefore, she must either give up
her knitting or her school." When Mrs. Dozier heard their
resolution, she smiled, and said: " Before those gentlemen
deny my ability to impart knowledge and work with my
fingers at the same time, I would like them to visit my
school, and judge me by the result of their observation."
A knock at the school-room door, a week later, startled
the children, and a committee of trustees entered. Mrs.
Dozier received them in the most ladylike manner, and after
they were seated, she called each class at its appointed time.
The recitations were heard, and lessons explained, yet no one
seemed disturbed by the faint, but regular, click of knitting
needles. For hours those gentlemen sat in silence, deeply in-
terested in all that transpired. When the time for closing
school arrived, the teacher invited the trustees to address her
pupils, after which she dismissed school, thanked her visitors
for their kind attention, and went home without learning
their opinion.
The next morning she was informed that the Board of
Trustees had met the previous evening, and after hearing the
AN INCIDENT IN SCHOOL. 141
report of the visiting committee, had unanimously agreed
that Mrs. Dozier might continue her school and her knitting
also. This little triumph was much enjoyed by her friends.
The following year she was urged to take the school on
Sugar Creek, where the children were older and further ad-
vanced than those at Auburn. Her connection with this
school marked a new era for many of its attendants. Mr. J.
Miller used to relate an incident which occurred a few days
after she took charge of those unruly boys who had been in
the habit of managing the teacher and school to suit them-
selves. " I will never forget," said Mr. Miller, " how Mrs.
Dozier took her place at the table that morning, tapped for
order, and in a kind, but firm, tone said: 'Young gentlemen
and young ladies, as a teacher only, I can not criticise the
propriety of your writing notes to each other when out of
school; but as your teacher, with full authority in school, I
desire and request you neither to write nor send notes to any
one during school hours. I was surprised at your conduct
yesterday, and should my wish be disregarded in the future,
I will be obliged to chastise the offender.' She called the
first class, and school began in earnest. I looked at her quiet
face and diminutive form, and thought how easy it would be
for me to pick up two or three such little bodies as she, and
set them outside of the door! I wrote a note and threw it to
the pupil in front of me, just to try Mrs. Dozier. When the
recitation was finished, she stepped to the side of her table,
and looked at me with such a grieved expression on her face,
then said : ' Mr. Miller, I regret that my eldest scholar should
be the first to violate my rule. Please step forward.' I quailed
beneath her eye. I marched up to where she stood. The
stillness of that room was oppressive. I held out my hand
at the demand of that little woman, and took the punishment
I deserved, and returned to my seat deeply humiliated, but
142 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
fully determined to behave myself in the future, and make
the other boys do likewise. Well, she had no more trouble
while she was our teacher. Her pluck had won our admira-
tion, and her quiet dignity held our respect, and we soon
ceased wondering at the ease with which she overturned our
plans and made us eager to adopt hers; for no teacher ever
taught on Sugar Creek who won the affections or ruled
pupils more easily or happily than she. We were expected
to come right up to the mark; but if we got into trouble, she
was always ready to help us out, and could do it in the
quietest way imaginable."
She taught several young men the art of surveying, and had
a wonderful faculty of interesting her pupils in the study of
botany. She sought by creek and over plain for specimens
with which to illustrate their lessons. It was while engaged
in this place that Mrs. Dozier met George Donner,- who at
that time resided about two and a half miles from Spring-
field. Their acquaintance resulted in marriage. Her pupils
always called her their "little teacher," for she was but five
feet in height, and her usual weight ninety-six pounds. She
had grayish-blue eyes, brown hair, and a face full of char-
acter and intelligence. She was gifted with fine conversa-
tional powers, and was an excellent reader. Her voice would
hold in perfect silence, for hours, the circle of neighbors and
friends who would assemble during the long winter evenings
to hear her read. Even those who did not fail to criticise her
ignorance of farm and dairy work, were often charmed by
her voice and absence of display; for while her dress was
always of rich material, it was remarkable for its Quaker •
simplicity.
Mr. Francis says : " Mrs. George Donner was a perfect
type of an eastern lady, kind, sociable, and exemplary, ever
ready to assist neighbors, and even the stranger in distress.
PARTING SCENES AT ALDER CREEK. 143
Whenever she could spare time, she wielded a ready pen on
various topics. She frequently contributed gems in prose
and poetry to the columns of the Journal, that awakened an
interest among its readers to know their author. Herself
and husband were faithful members of the German Prairie
Christian Church, situated a little north of their residence.
Here they lived happily, and highly respected by all who
knew them, until the spring of 1846, when they started for
California."
Having said this much of the Donners, and especially of
the noble woman who refused to leave her suffering husband,
let us glance at the parting scenes at Alder Creek. It had
been determined that the two eldest daughters of George
Donner should accompany Captain Tucker's party. George
Donner, Jr., and William Hook, two of Jacob Donner's sons,
Mrs. Wolfinger, and Noah James were also to join the com-
pany. This made six from the Donner tents. Mrs. Eliza-
beth Donner was quite able to have crossed the mountains,
but preferred to remain with her two little children, Lewis
and Samuel, until another and larger relief party should
arrive. These two boys were not large enough to walk, Mrs.
Donner was not strong enough to carry them, and the mem-
bers of Captain Tucker's party had already agreed to take as
many little ones as they could carry.
Leanna C. Donner, now Mrs. John App, of Jamestown,
Tuolumne County, Cal., gives a vivid description of the trip
from George Donner's tent to the cabins at Donner Lake.
Miss Rebecca E. App, acting as her mother's amanuensis,
writes :
"Mother says: Never shall I forget the day when my
sister Elitha and myself left our tent. Elitha was strong and
in good health, while I was so poor and emaciated that I
could scarcely walk. All we took with us were the clothes
J44 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
on our backs and one thin blanket, fastened with a string
around our necks, answering the purpose of a shawl in the
day-time, and which was all we had to cover us at night.
We started early in the morning, and many a good cry I had
before we reached the cabins, a distance of about eight miles.
Many a time I sat down in the snow to die, and would have
perished there if my sister had not urged me on, saying,
' The cabins are just over the hill.' Passing over the hill,
and not seeing the cabins, I would give up, again sit down
and have another cry, but my sister continued to help and
encourage me until I saw the smoke rising from the cabins ;
then I took courage, and moved along as fast as I could.
When we reached the Graves cabin it was all I could do to
step down the snow-steps into the cabin. Such pain and
misery as I endured that day is beyond description."
In Patrick Breen's diary are found the following entries,
which allude to Captain Tucker's relief party :
"Feb. 19. Froze hard last night. Seven men arrived
from California yesterday with provisions, but left the greater
part on the way. To-day it is clear and warm for this region ;
some of the men have gone to Donner's camp; they will
start back on Monday.
" Feb. 22. The Californians started this morning, twenty-
three in number, some in a very weak state. Mrs. Keseberg
started with them, and left Keseberg here, unable to go.
Buried Pike's child this morning in the snow ; died two days
ago."
Poor little Catherine Pike lingered until this time ! It will
be remembered that this little nursing babe had nothing to
eat except a little coarse flour mixed in snow water. Its
mother crossed the mountains with the "Forlorn Hope,"
and from the sixteenth of December to the twentieth of Feb-
ruary it lived upon the miserable gruel made from unbolted
flour. How it makes the heart ache to think of this little
sufferer, wasting away, moaning with hunger, and sobbing
for something to eat. The teaspoonful of snow water would
contain only a few particles of the flour, yet how eagerly the
dying child would reach for the pitiful food. The tiny hands
grew thinner, the sad, pleading eyes sank deeper in their
fleshless sockets, the face became hollow, and the wee voice
became fainter, yet, day after day, little Catherine Pike con-
tinued to breathe, up to the very arrival of the relief party.
Patrick Breen says twenty- three started across the mount-
Jains. Their names were: Mrs. Margaret W. Reed and her
children — Virginia E. Reed, Patty Reed, Thomas Reed, and
James F. Reed, Jr.; Elitha C. Donner, Leanna C. Donner,
Wm. Hook, and George Donner, Jr.; Wm. G. Murphy,
Mary M. Murphy, and Naomi L. Pike; Wm. C. Graves,
Eleanor Graves, and Lovina Graves; Mrs. Phillipine Kese-
berg, and Ada Keseberg; Edward J. and Simon P. Breen,
Eliza Williams, John Denton, Noah James, and Mrs. Wolf-
linger.
tin starting from the camps at Donner Lake, Mrs. Kese-
erg's child and Naomi L. Pike were carried by the relief
jarty. In a beautiful letter received from Naomi L. Pike
(now Mrs. Schenck, of the Dalles, Oregon), she says : " I
owe my life to the kind heart of John Rhodes, whose sym-
pathies were aroused for my mother. He felt that she was
deserving of some relic of all she had left behind when she
Istarted with the first party in search of relief, and he carried
ime to her in a blanket." We have before spoken of this
noble man's bravery in bearing the news of the condition of
the "Forlorn Hope" and of the Donner Party to Sutter's
Fort. Here we find him again exhibiting the nobility of his
nature by saving this little girl from starvation by carrying
' her on his back over forty miles of wintry snow.
146 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Before the party had proceeded two miles, a most sad oc-
currence took place. It became evident that Patty and
Thomas Reed were unable to stand the fatigue of the jour-
ney. Already they exhibited signs of great weakness and
weariness, and it was not safe to allow them to proceed. Mr.
. Aquila Glover informed Mrs. Reed that it was necessary that
these two children go back. Who can portray the emotions
of this fond mother? What power of language can indicate
the struggle which took place in the minds of this stricken
family? Mr. Glover promised to return as soon as he arrived
at Bear Valley, and himself bring Patty and Thomas over
the mountains. This promise, however, was but a slight con-
solation for the agonized mother or weeping children, until
finally a hopeful thought occurred to Mrs. Reed. She turned
suddenly to Mr. Glover, and asked, "Are you a Mason?"
He replied, "I am." "Do you promise me," she said, "upon
the word of a Mason, that when you arrive at Bear Valley,
you will come back and get my children?" Mr. Glover
made the promise, and the children were by him taken back
to the cabins. The mother had remembered, in this gloomiest
moment of life, that the father of her little ones was a Mason,
and that he deeply reverenced the order. If her children
must be left behind in the terrible snows, she would trust the
promise of this Mason to return and save them. It was a
beautiful trust in a secret order by a Mason's wife in deep
distress.
Rebecca E. App, writing for her mother, gives a vivid de-
scription of this journey across the summits, from which is
taken the following brief extract:
" It was a bright Sunday morning when we left the cabins.
Some were in good health, while others were so poor and
emaciated that they could scarcely walk. I was one of the
weakest in the party, and not one in the train thought I
JAMES F. REED.
ELITHA DONNER S KINDNESS. 147
would get to the top of the first hill. We were a sad spec-
tacle to look upon as we left the cabins. We marched along
in single file, the leader wearing snow-shoes, and the others
following after, all stepping in the leader's tracks. I think
my sister and myself were about the rear of the train, as the
strongest were put in front. My sister Elitha and I were
alone with strangers, as it were, having neither father, mother,
nor brothers, to give us a helping hand or a word of courage
to cheer us onward. We were placed on short allowance of
food from the start, and each day this allowance was cut
shorter and shorter, until we received each for our evening
and morning meal two small pieces of jerked beef, about the
size of the index finger of the hand. Finally, the last ration
was issued in the evening. This was intended for that evening
and the next morning, but I was so famished I could not re-
sist the temptation to eat all I had — the two meals at one
time. Next morning, of course, I had nothing for breakfast.
Now occurred an incident which I shall never forget. While
I sat looking at the others eating their morsels of meat,
which were more precious than gold or diamonds, my sister
saw my distress, and divided her piece with me. How long
we went without food after that, I do not know. I think we
were near the first station."
CHAPTER XIII.
Death of Ada Keseberg — Denton Discovering Gold — A Poem Composed While
Dying — The Caches of Provisions Robbed by Fishers — The Sequel to the
Reed-Snyder Tragedy — Death from Over-eating — The Agony of Frozen
Feet — An Interrupted Prayer — Stanton, after Death, Guides the Relief
Party — The Second Relief Party Arrives — A Solitary Indian — Patty Reed
and her Father — Starving Children Lying in Bed — Mrs. Graves' Money
Still Buried at Donner Lake.
$EASIN P. TUCKER'S relief party had twenty-one
emigrants with them after Patty and Thomas Reed
returned to the desolate cabins. On the evening of
the first day, one of the twenty-one died. It was the
baby child of Lewis Keseberg. The mother had
fairly worshiped her girl. They buried the little one in the
snow. It was all they could do for the pallid form of the
starved little girl. Mrs. Keseberg was heart-broken over her
baby's death. At the very outset she had offered everything
she possessed — twenty-five dollars and a gold watch — to any
one who would carry her child over the mountains. After
the starved band resumed their weary march next morning,
it is doubtful if many thought of the niche hollowed out of
the white snow, or of the pulseless heart laid therein. Death
had become fearfully common, and his victims were little
heeded by the perishing company. The young German
DENTON DISCOVERING GOLD. 149
mother, however, was inconsolable. Her only boy had
starved to death at the cabins, and now she was childless.
The next day the company reached Summit Valley. An
incident of this day's travel illustrates the exhausted condi-
tion of the members of the Donner Party. John Denton,
an Englishman, was missed when camp was pitched, and
John Rhodes returned and found him fast asleep upon the
snow. He had become so weary that he yielded to a slum-
ber that would soon have proven fatal. With much labor
and exertion he was aroused and brought to camp. Denton
appreciated the kindness, but at the same time declared that
it would be impossible for him to travel another day. Sure
enough, after journeying a little way on the following morn-
ing, his strength utterly gave way. His companions built a
fire for him, gave him such food as they were able, and at
his earnest request continued their sorrowful march. If an-
other relief came soon, he would, perhaps, be rescued.
Denton was well educated and of good family, was a gun-
smith by trade, and was skilled in metals. It is related, that
while in the Reed cabin, he discovered in the earth, ashes, and
burnt stones in the fireplace, some small pieces of yellowish
metal, which he declared to be gold. These he made into a
small lump, which he carefully preserved until he left the
lake, and it was doubtless lost on the mountains at his death.
This was in the spring of 1847, before the discovery of gold
in California. The strange little metallic lump was exhib-
ited to several who are yet living, and who think there is rea-
son for believing it was really gold. A few years before the
construction of the Central Pacific, Knoxville, about ten
miles south of Donner Lake, and Elizabethtown, some six
miles from Truckee, were famous mining camps. Gold
never has been found on the very shore of Donner Lake,
but should the discovery be made, and especially should gold
150 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
be found in the rocks or earth near the Reed cabin, there
would be reason to believe that this poor unfortunate man
was in reality the first discoverer of the precious metal in
California. Left alone in the snow-mantled forests of the
Sierra, what were this man's emotions? In the California
Star of 1847, a bound volume of which is in the State Li-
brary in Sacramento, appears the following poem. The sec-
ond relief party found it written on the leaf of a memorandum
book by the side of Denton's lifeless body. The pencil with
which it was written lay also by the side of the unfortunate
man. Ere the lethargy of death stole away his senses, John
Denton's thoughts had been of his boyhood's beautiful home
in merry England. These thoughts were woven into verse.
Are they not strangely pathetic and beautiful ? Judge Thorn-
ton, in 1849, published them with the following prefatory
words: " When the circumstances are considered in connec-
tion with the calamities in which the unhappy Denton was
involved, the whole compass of American and English poetry
may be challenged to furnish a more exquisitely beautiful, a
more touching and pathetic piece. Simple and inornate to
the last degree, yet coming from the heart, it goes to the
heart. Its lines are the last plaintive notes which wintry
winds have wakened from an ^Eolian harp, the strings of
which rude hands have sundered. Bring before your mind
the picture of an amiable young man who has wandered far
from the paternal roof, is stricken by famine, and left by his
almost equally unhappy companions to perish among the
terrible snows of the great Sierra Nevada. He knows that
his last, most solemn hour is near. Reason still maintains
her empire, and memory, faithful to the last, performs her
functions. On every side extends a boundless waste of track-
less snow. He reclines against a bank of it, to rise no more,
and busy memory brings before him a thousand images of
A POEM COMPOSED WHILE DYING. 151
past beauty and pleasure, and of scenes he will never revisit.
A mother's image presents itself to his mind, tender recol-
lections crowd upon his heart, and the scenes of his boyhood
and youth pass in review before him with an unwonted viv-
idness. The hymns of praise and thanksgiving that in har-
mony swelled from the domestic circle around the family
altar are remembered, and soothe the sorrows of the dying
man, and finally, just before he expires, he writes : "
"Oh! after many roving years,
How sweet it is to come
Back to the dwelling-place of youth,
Our first and dearest home;
To turn away our wearied eyes
From proud ambition's towers,
And wander in those summer fields,
The scenes of boyhood's hours.
"But I am changed since last I gazed
Upon that tranquil scene,
And sat beneath the old witch elm
That shades the village green;
And watched my boat upon the brook —
It was a regal galley —
And sighed not for a joy on earth,
Beyond the happy valley.
"I wish I could once more recall
That bright and blissful joy,
And summon to my weary heart
The feelings of a boy.
But now on scenes of past delight
I look, and feel no pleasure,
As misers on the bed of death
Gaze coldly on their treasure."
When Captain Tucker's relief party were going to Donner
Lake, they left a portion of their provisions in Summit Val-
ley, tied up in a tree. They had found these provisions diffi-
152 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
cult to carry, and besides, it was best to have something
provided for their return, in case the famished emigrants ate
all they carried over the summit. It was indeed true that all
was eaten which they carried over. All the scanty allowances
were, one after another, consumed. When the relief party,
and those they were rescuing, reached the place where the
provisions had been cached, they were in great need of the
reserve store which they expected to find. To their horror
and dismay, they found that wild animals had gnawed the
ropes by which the cache had been suspended, and had de-
stroyed every vestige of these provisions! Death stared
them in the face, and the strongest men trembled at the pros-
pect.
Here comes the sequel to the Reed-Snyder tragedy. Had
it not been for Reed's banishment, there is every reason to
believe that these people would have died for want of food.
It will be remembered, however, that the relief party organ-
ized by Reed was only a few days behind Captain Tucker's.
On the twenty-seventh of February, just as the horror and
despair of their dreadful situation began to be realized,
Tucker, and those with him. were relieved by the second re-
lief party.
In order to better understand these events, let us return
and follow the motions of Reed and the members of the sec-
ond relief party. In the article quoted in a former chapter
from the Rural Press, Reed traced their progress as far as
Johnson's ranch. Patty Reed (Mrs. Frank Lewis) has in her
possession the original diary kept by her father during this
journey. This diary shows that on the very morning Capt.
Tucker, and the company with him, left Donner Lake to return
to the valleys, Reed and the second relief party started from
Johnson's ranch to go to Donner Lake. All that subsequently
occurred, is briefly and pointedly narrated in the diary.
REEDS DIARY. 153
"February 22, 1847. All last night I kept fire under the
beef which I had drying on the scaffolds, and Johnson's
Indians were grinding flour in a small hand-mill. By sun-
rise this morning I had about two hundred pounds of beef
dried and placed in bags. We packed our horses and started
with our 'supplies. Including the meat Greenwood had
dried, we had seven hundred pounds of flour, and five beeves.
Mr. Greenwood had three men, including himself. Traveled
this day about ten miles.
"Feb. 23. Left camp early this morning, and pushed
ahead, but camped early on account of grass. To-morrow
we will reach the snow.
" Feb. 24. Encamped at Mule Springs this evening. Made
arrangements to take to the snow in the morning, having left
in camp our saddles, bridles, etc.
"Feb. 25. Started with eleven horses and mules lightly
packed, each having about eighty pounds. Traveled two
miles, and left one mule and his pack. Made to-day, with
hard labor for the horses, in the snow, about six miles. Our
start was late.
" Feb. 26. Left our encampment, Cady thinking the snow
would bear the horses. Proceeded two hundred yards with
difficulty, when we were compelled to unpack the horses and
take the provisions on our backs. Usually the men had kept
in the best of spirits, but here, for a few moments, there was
silence. When the packs were ready to be strung upon their
backs, however, the hilarity and good feeling again com-
menced. Made the head of Bear Valley, a distance of fifteen
miles. We met in the valley, about three miles below the
camp, Messrs. Glover and Rhodes, belonging to the party
that went to the lake. They informed me they had started
with twenty-one persons, two of whom had died, John Den-
ton, of Springfield, 111., and a child of Mr. and Mrs. Kese-
154 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
berg. Mr. Glover sent two men back to the party with fresh
provisions. They are in a starving condition, and all have
nearly given out. I have lightened our packs with a sufficient
quantity of provisions to do the people when they shall ar-
rive at this place.
" Feb. 27. I sent back two men to our camp of night before
last, to bring forward provisions. They will return to-morrow.
I also left one man to prepare for the people who were ex-
pected to-day. Left camp on a fine, hard snow, and pro-
ceeded about four miles, when we met the poor, unfortunate,
starved people. As I met them scattered along the snow-
trail, I distributed some bread that I had baked last night. I
gave in small quantities to each. Here I met my wife and
two of my little children. Two of my children are still in
the mountains. I can not describe the death-like look all
these people had. ' Bread ! ' ' Bread ! ' ' Bread ! ' ' Bread ! ' was
the begging cry of every child and grown person. I gave all
I dared to them, and set out for the scene of desolation at
the lake. I am now camped within twenty-five miles of the
place, which I hope to reach by traveling to-night and to-
morrow. We had to camp early this evening, on account of
the softness of the snow, the men sinking in to their waists,
The party who passed us to-day were overjoyed when we
told them there was plenty of provision at camp. I made a
cache, to-day, after we had traveled about twelve miles, and
encamped three miles further eastward, on the Yuba. Snow
about fifteen feet deep."
The meeting between Reed and his family can better be
imagined than described. For months they had been sepa-
rated. While the father was battling with fate in endeavoring
to reach California and return with assistance, the mother had
been using every exertion to obtain food for her starving
children. Now they met in the mountains, in the deep
DEATH FROM OVEREATING. 155
snows, amid pathless forests, at a time when the mother and
children, and all with them, were out of provisions and ready
to perish.
Meantime, the first relief, with their little company, now re-
duced to nineteen, passed forward toward the settlements. At
Bear Valley, another cache of provisions had been made, and
this was found unmolested. Camping at this place, the utmost
precaution was taken to prevent the poor starved people from
overeating. After a sufficient quantity of food had been
distributed, the remainder of the provisions was hung up in
a tree. Of course, the small portion distributed to each did
not satisfy the cravings of hunger. Some time during the
night, Wm. Hook quietly crept to the tree, climbed up to the
food, and ate until his hunger was appeased. Poor boy, it
was a fatal act. Toward morning it was discovered that he
was dying. All that the company could do to relieve his
sufferings was done, but it was of no avail. Finding that the
poor boy was past relief, most of the emigrants moved on
toward the settlements. Wm. G. Murphy's feet had been
badly frozen, and he was suffering such excruciating agony
that he could not travel and keep up with the others. At his
request, his sister Mary had cut his shoes open, in order to
get them off, and his feet thereupon swelled up as if they had
been scalded. Because he could not walk, the company left
him with William Hook. A camp-keeper also remained.
This boy's death is thus described by Mr. Murphy, who
writes:
"William Hook went out on the snow and rested on his
knees and elbows. The camp-keeper called to him to come
in. He then told me to make him come into camp. I went
and put my hand on him, speaking his name, and he fell
over, being already dead. He did not die in great agony, as
is usually alleged. No groan, nor signs of dying, were mani-
156 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Tested to us. The camp-keeper and myself took the biscuits
and jerked beef from his pockets, and buried him just barely
under the ground, near a tree which had been fired, and from
around which the snow had melted." Those who were in
the company thought Wm. G. Murphy could not possibly
walk, but when all had gone, and Hook was dead, and no
alternative remained but to walk or die, he did walk. It took
him two days to go barefooted over the snow to Mule
Springs, a journey which the others had made in one day.
The agony which he endured during that trip can better be
imagined than described. Nothing but an indomitable will
could have sustained him during those two days.
All the members of this relief party suffered greatly, and
several came near perishing. Little James F. Reed, Jr., was
too small to step in the tracks made by the older members of
the party. In order to travel with the rest he had to partly
use his knees in walking. When one foot was in a track he
would place the other knee on the untrodden snow, and was
thus enabled to put his foot in the next track. John Denton
was left with a good fire, and when last seen was reclining
smoking, on a bed of freshly gathered pine boughs. He
looked so comfortable that the little timid boy James begged
hard to be allowed to remain with him. Mrs. Reed had hard
work to coax him to come. Among other things, she prom-
ised that when he reached California he should have a horse
"all for himself," and that he should never have to walk any
more. This promise was literally fulfilled. James F. Reed, Jr.,
since reaching California, has always had a horse of his own.
No matter what vicissitudes of fortune have overtaken him,
he has always kept a saddle horse.
Sad scenes were occurring at the cabin at Donner Lake
and the tents at Alder Creek. Starvation was fast claiming
its victims. The poor sufferers tried to be brave and trust
STANTON, AFTER DEATH, GUIDES THE RELIEF PARTY. 157
God, but sometimes hope well-nigh disappeared. The even-
ing prayers were always read in Patrick Breen's cabin, and
all the inmates knelt and joined in the responses. Once
when they were thus praying, they heard the cries of wild
geese flying over the cabin. With one accord all raised their
heads and listened for a moment to the soul-inspiring sound.
"Thank God, the spring is coming," was all Patrick Breen
said, and again bowing their heads, the prayer was resumed.
Charles L. Cady, writing from Calistoga, says that Com-
modore Stockton employed Greenwood and Turner to guide
the second relief party over the mountains to Donner Lake.
Cady, Stone, and Clark, being young, vigorous men, left their
companions, or were sent forward by Reed, and reached the
cabins some hours in advance of the party. At one time, near
the present station of Summit Valley, Cady and Stone became
bewildered, thought they were lost, and wanted to return.
Mr. Clark, however, prevailed upon them to press forward,
agreeing that if they did not catch some glimpse of Donner
Lake when they reached a certain mountain top in the dis-
tance, he would give up and return with them. Had they
reached the mountain top they could not have seen the lake,
and so would have turned back, but while they were ascend-
ing, they came to the lifeless body of C. T. Stanton sitting
upright against a tree. There was no longer room for doubt-
ing that they were going in the right direction to reach Don-
ner Lake. Poor Stanton! even in death he pointed out to
the relief party the way to the starving emigrants, to save
whom he had sacrificed his life.
Reed's diary continues :
"Feb. 28. Left camp about twelve o'clock at night, but
was compelled to camp about two o'clock, the snow still
being soft. Left again about four o'clock, all hands, and
made this day fourteen miles. Encamped early; snow very
158 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
soft. The snow here is thirty feet deep. Three of my men,
Cady, Clark, and Stone, kept on during the night to within
two miles of the cabins, where they halted, and remained
without fire during the night, on account of having seen ten
Indians. The boys did not have any arms, and supposed
these Indians had taken the cabins and destroyed the people.
In the morning they started, and reached the cabins. All
were alive in the houses. They gave provisions to Keseberg,
Breen, Graves, and Mrs. Murphy, and the two then left for
Donner's, a distance of seven miles, which they made by the
middle of the day.
" March i. I came up with the remainder of my party,
and told the people that all who were able should start day
after to-morrow. Made soup for the infirm, washed and
clothed afresh Eddy's and Foster's children, and rendered
every assistance in my power. I left Mr. Stone with Kese-
berg's people to cook, and to watch the eating of Mrs. Mur-
phy, Keseberg, and three children."
In Patrick Breen's diary is found the following :
"Feb. 23. Froze hard last night. To-day pleasant and
thawy ; has the appearance of spring, all but the deep snow.
Wind south-south-east. Shot a dog to-day and dressed his
flesh.
"Feb. 25. To-day Mrs. Murphy says the wolves are about
to dig up the dead bodies around her shanty, and the nights
are too cold to watch them, but we hear them howl.
" Feb. 26. Hungry times in camp ; plenty of hides, but
the folks will not eat them ; we eat them with tolerably good
appetite, thanks to the Almighty God. Mrs. Murphy said
here yesterday that she thought she would commence on
Milton and eat him. I do not think she has done so yet ; it
is distressing. The Donners told the California folks four
days ago that they would commence on the dead people if
159
they did not succeed that day. or the next in finding their
cattle, then ten or twelve feet under the snow, and they .did
not know the spot or near it ; they have done it ere this.
"Feb. 28. One solitary Indian passed by yesterday ; came
from the lake ; had a heavy pack on his back ; gave me five
or six roots resembling onions in shape; tasted some like a
sweet potato ; full of tough little fibers.
"March i. Ten men arrived this morning from Bear Val-
ley, with provisions. We are to start in two or three days,
and cache our goods here. They say the snow will remain
until June."
This closes Patrick Breen's diary. Its record has always
been considered reliable. None of the statements made in
this diary have ever been controverted.
The Indian spoken of refused to be interviewed. To quote
the language of Mr. John Breen, "he did not seem to be at
all curious as to how or why there was a white man alone
(as it must have seemed to him) in the wilderness of snow."
The Indian was trudging along with a heavy pack on his
back. As soon as he saw Mr. Breen, he halted and warned
him with a gesture not to approach. Taking from the pack
a few of the fibrous roots, he laid them on the snow, still
cautioning with his hand not to approach until he was well
out of reach. As soon as the Indian was gone, Mr. Breen
went out and got the roots, which were very palatable. It is
probable that this was one of the band of Indians seen by
Clark, Cady, and Stone.
When Patty and Thomas Reed had been returned to the
cabins by Aquila Glover, they had been received by the
Breen family, where they remained all the time until their
father came. The Breen cabin was the first one at which
Mr. Reed arrived. His meeting with his daughter is thus
described by Mr. Eddy, in Thornton's work: "At this camp
160 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Mr. Reed saw his daughter Patty sitting on the top of the
snow with which the cabin was covered. Patty saw her
father at some distance, and immediately started to run and
meet him, but such was her weakness that she fell. Her
father took her up, and the affectionate girl, bathed in tears,
embraced and kissed him, exclaiming: ' Oh, papa! I never
expected to see you again when the cruel people drove you
out of camp. But I knew that God was good, and would do
what was best. Is dear mamma living? Is Mr. Glover liv-
ing? Did you know that he was a Mason? Oh, my dear
papa, I am so happy to see you. Masons must be good
men. Is Mr. Glover the same sort of Mason we had in
Springfield? He promised mamma upon the word of a Ma-
son that he would bring me and Tommy out of the mount-
ains.' Mr. Reed told Patty that Masons were everywhere
the same, and that he had met her mother and Mr. Glover,
and had relieved him from his pledge, and that he himself had
come to her and little Tommy to redeem that pledge and to
take out all that were able to travel."
The greatest precaution was taken to keep the suffering
emigrants from overeating. Cady, Stone, and Clark had dis-
tributed a small portion of food to each of the famished be-
ings. Patty Reed was intrusted with the task of giving to
each person a single biscuit. Taking the biscuits in her
apron she went in turn to each member of the company.
Who shall describe the rejoicings that were held over those
biscuits ? Several of the survivors, in speaking of the sub-
ject, say that to their hungry eyes these small pieces of bread
assumed gigantic proportions. Never did the largest loaves
of bread look half so large. Patty Reed says that some of
the little girls cut their portions into thin slices, so as to cat
them slowly and enjoy them more completely.
The names of the members of this second relief party were
MRS. MARGARET W. REED.
James F. Reed, Charles Cady, Charles Stone, Nicholas Clark,
Joseph Jondro, Mathevv Dofar, John Turner, Hiram Miller,
Wm. McCutchen, and Brit. Greenwood. A portion of the
party went to the Donner tents, and the remainder assisted
the emigrants in preparing to start over the mountains. The
distress and suffering at each camp was extreme. Even after
the children had received as much food as was prudent, it is
said they would stretch out their little arms and with cries
and tears beg for something to eat. Mrs. Murphy informed
Mr. Reed that some of the children had been confined to
their beds for fourteen days. It was clearly to be seen that
very few of the sufferers could cross the Sierra without being
almost carried. They were too weak and helpless to walk.
The threatening appearance of the weather and the short
supply of provisions urged the party to hasten their depart-
ure, and it was quickly decided who should go, and who
remain. Those who started from Donner Lake on the third
of March with Mr. Reed and his party were Patrick Breen,
Mrs. Margaret Breen, John Breen, Patrick Breen, Jr., James F.
Breen, Peter Breen, and Isabella M. Breen, Patty Reed and
Thomas Reed, Isaac Donner and Mary M. Donner, Solomon
Hook, Mrs. Elizabeth Graves, Nancy Graves, Jonathan Graves,
Franklin Graves, and Elizabeth Graves, Jr. Many of the
younger members of this party had to be carried. All were
very much weakened and emaciated, and it was evident that
the journey over the mountains would be slow and painful.
In case a storm should occur on the summits, it was fearfully
apparent that the trip would be exceedingly perilous.
Reed's party encamped the first night near the upper end
of Donner Lake. They had scarcely traveled three miles.
Upon starting from the Graves cabin, Mrs. Graves had taken
with her a considerable sum of money. This money, Mr.
McCutchen says, had been ingeniously concealed in auger-
ii
1 62 HISTORY OF THE DONNfcK PARTY.
holes bored in cleats nailed to the bed of the wagon. These
cleats, as W. C. Graves informs us, were ostensibly placed in
the wagon-bed to support a table carried in the back part of
the wagon. On the under side of these cleats, however, were
the auger-holes, carefully filled with coin. The sum is
variously stated at from three to five hundred dollars. At
the camping-ground, near the upper end of Donner Lake,
one of the relief party jokingly proposed to another to play
a game of euchre to see who should have Mrs. Graves'
money. The next morning, Mrs. Graves remained behind
when the party started, and concealed her money. All that
is known is, that she buried it behind a large rock on the
north side of Donner Lake. So far as is known, this money
has never been recovered, but still lies hidden where it was
placed by Mrs. Graves.
CHAPTER XIV.
Leaving Three Men in the Mountains — The Emigrants Quite Helpless — Bear
Tracks in the Snow — The Clumps of Tamarack — Wounding a Bear— Blood-
stains upon the Snow — A Weary Chase — A Momentous Day — Stone and
Cady Leave the Sufferers — A Mother Offering Five Hundred Dollars —
Mrs. Donner Parting from her Children — "God will Take Care of You"
— Buried in the Snow, without Food or Fire — Pines Uprooted by the Storm
— A Grave Cut in the Snow — The Cub's Cave — Firing at Random — A
*• Desperate Undertaking — Preparing for a Hand- to-Hand Battle — Precipi-
tated into the Cave — Seizing the Bear — Mrs. Elizabeth Donner's Death —
Clark and Baptiste Attempt to Escape — A Death more Cruel than Starva-
tion.
^FORE Reed's party started to return, a consultation
was held, and it was decided that Clark, Cady, and
Stone should remain at the mountain camps. It was
intended that these men should attend to procuring
wood, and perform such other acts as would assist
the almost helpless sufferers. It was thought that a third re-
lief party could be sent out in a few days to get all the emi-
grants who remained.
Nicholas Clark, who now resides in Honey Lake Valley,
Lassen County, California, says that as he and Cady were
going to the Donner tents, they saw the fresh tracks of a
bear and cub crossing the road. In those days, there were
164 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
several little clumps of tamarack along Alder Creek, just be-
low the Donner tents, and as the tracks led towards these,
Mr. Clark procured a gun and started for an evening's hunt
among the tamaracks. He found the bear and her cub
within sight of the tents, and succeeded in severely wounding
the old bear. She was a black bear, of medium size. For a
long distance, over the snow and through the forests, Clark
followed the wounded animal and her cub. The approach
of darkness at last warned him to desist, and returning to the
tents, he passed the night. Early next morning, Clark again
set out in pursuit of the bear, following her readily by the
blood-stains upon the snow. It was another windy, cloudy,
threatening day, and there was every indication that a severe
storm was approaching. Eagerly intent upon securing his
game, Mr. Clark gave little heed to weather, or time, or dis-
tance. The endurance of the wounded animal was too great,
however, and late in the afternoon he realized that it was
necessary for him to give up the weary chase, and retrace
his steps. He arrived at the tents hungry, tired, and foot-
sore, long after dark.
That day, however, had been a momentous one at the
Donner tents. Stone had come over early in the morning,
and he and Cady concluded that it was sheer madness for
them to remain in the mountains. That a terrible storm was
fast coming on, could not be doubted. The provisions were
almost exhausted, and if they remained, it would only be to
perish with the poor emigrants. They therefore concluded
to attempt to follow and overtake Reed and his companions.
Mrs. Tamsen Donner was able to have crossed the mount-
ains with her children with either Tucker's or Reed's party.
On account of her husband's illness, however, she had firmly
refused all entreaties, and had resolutely determined to re-
main by his bedside. She was extremely anxious, however,
i65
that her children should reach California; and Hiram Miller
relates that she offered five hundred dollars to any one in the
second relief party, who would take them in safety across the
mountains. When Cady and Stone decided to go, Mrs.
Donner induced them to attempt the rescue of these chil-
dren, Frances, Georgia, and Eliza. They took the children
as far as the cabins at the lake, and left them. Probably
they became aware of the impossibility of escaping the
storm, and knew that it would be sure death, for both them-
selves and the children, should they take them any farther.
In view of the terrible calamity which befell Reed's party on
account of this storm, and the fact that Cady and Stone had
a terrible struggle for life, every one must justify these men
in leaving the children at the cabins. The parting between
the devoted mother and her little ones is thus briefly de-
scribed by Georgia Donner, now Mrs. Babcock: " The men
came. I listened to their talking as they made their agree-
ment. Then they took us, three little girls, up the stone
steps, and stood us on the bank. Mother came, put on our
hoods and cloaks, saying, as if she was talking more to her-
self than to us: 'I may never see you again, but God will
take care of you.' After traveling a few miles, they left us
on the snow, went ahead a short distance, talked one to an-
other, then came back, took us as far as Keseberg's cabin,
and left us."
Mr. Cady recalls the incident of leaving the children on
the snow, but says the party saw a coyote, and were attempt-
ing to get a shot at the animal.
When Nicholas Clark awoke on the morning of the third
day, the tent was literally buried in freshly fallen snow. He
was in what is known as Jacob Donner's tent. Its only oc-
cupants besides himself were Mrs. Elizabeth Donner, her son
Lewis, and the Spanish boy, John Baptiste. George Donner
1 66 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and wife were in their own tent, and with them was Mrs.
Elizabeth Donner's youngest child, Samuel. Mr. Clark says
he can not remember how long the storm lasted, but it seems
as if it must have been at least a week. The snow was so
deep that it was impossible to procure wood, and during all
those terrible days and nights there was no fire in either of
the tents. The food gave out the first day, and the dreadful
cold was rendered more intense by the pangs of hunger.
Sometimes the wind would blow like a hurricane, and they
could plainly hear the great pines crashing on the mountain
side above them, as the wind uprooted them and hurled them
to the ground. Sometimes the weather would seem to mod-
erate, and the snow would melt and trickle in under the sides
of the tent, wetting their clothes and bedding, and increasing
the misery of their situation.
When the storm cleared away, Clark found himself starv-
ing like the rest. He had really become one of the Donner
Party, and was as certain to perish as were the unfortunates
about him. It would necessarily be several days before relief
could possibly arrive, and utter despair seemed to surround
them. Just as the storm was closing, Lewis Donner died,
and the poor mother was well-nigh frantic with grief. As
soon as she could make her way to the other tent, she car-
ried her dead babe over and laid it in Mrs. George Donner's
lap. With Clark's assistance, they finally laid the child away
in a grave cut out of the solid snow.
In going to a tamarack grove to get some wood, Mr. Clark
was surprised to find the fresh track of the bear cub, which
had recrossed Alder Creek and ascended the mountain be-
hind the tents. It was doubtless the same one whose mother
he had wounded. The mother had probably died, and after
the storm the cub had returned. Mr. Clark at once followed
it, tracking it far up the mountain side to a cliff of rocks, and
FIRING AT RANDOM. 1 67
losing the trail at the mouth of a small, dark cave. He says
that all hope deserted him when he found that the cub had
gone into the cave. He sat down upon the snow in utter
despair. It was useless to return to the tents without food;
he might as well perish upon the mountain side. After re-
flecting for some time upon the gloomy situation, he con-
cluded to fire his gun into the cave, and see if the report
might not frighten out the cub. He placed the muzzle of
the gun as far down into the cave as he could, and fired.
When the hollow reverberation died away among the cliffs,
no sound disturbed the brooding silence. The experiment
had failed. He seriously meditated whether he could not
watch the cave day and night until the cub should be driven
out by starvation. But suddenly a new idea occurred
to him. Judging from the track, and from the size of the
cub he had seen, Mr. Clark concluded that it was possible he
might be able to enter the cave and kill the cub in a hand-
to-hand fight. It was a desperate undertaking, but it was
preferable to death from starvation. He approached the nar-
row opening, and tried again to peer into the cave and ascer-
tain its depth. As he was thus engaged the snow suddenly
gave way, and he was precipitated bodily into the cave. He
partly fell, partly slid to the very bottom of the hole in the
rocks. In endeavoring to regain an erect posture, his hand
struck against some furry animal. Instinctively recoiling, he
waited for a moment to see what it would do. Coming from
the dazzling sunlight into the darkness, he could see nothing
whatever. Presently he put out his foot and again touched
the animal. Finding that it did not move, he seized hold of it
and found that it was the cub — dead! His random shot had
pierced its brain, and it had died without a struggle. The
cave or opening in the rocks was not very deep, and after a
long time he succeeded in dragging his prize to the surface.
1 68 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
There was food in the Donner tents from this time forward.
It came too late, however, to save Mrs. Elizabeth Donner or
her son Samuel. This mother was quite able to have crossed
the mountains with either of the two relief parties ; but, as
Mrs. E. P. Houghton writes: "Her little boys were too
young to walk through the deep snows, she was not able
to carry them, and the relief parties were too small to meet
such emergencies. She stayed with them, hoping some way
would be provided for their rescue. Grief, hunger, and dis-
appointed hopes crushed her spirit, and so debilitated her
that death came before the required help reached her or her
children. For some days before her death she was so weak
that Mrs. George Donner and the others had to feed her as if
she had been a child. At last, one evening, as the sun went
down, she closed her eyes and awoke no more. Her life
had been sacrificed for her children. Could words be framed
to express a more fitting tribute to her memory ! Does not
the simple story of this mother's love wreathe a chaplet of
glory about her brow far holier than could be fashioned by
human hands !
Samuel Donner lingered but a few days longer. Despite
the tenderest care and attention, he grew weaker day by day,
until he slept by the side of his mother and brother in their
snowy grave.
All this time Mrs. Tamsen Donner was tortured with fear
and dread, lest her children had perished in the dreadful
storm on the summits. At last Clark yielded to her im-
portunities, and decided to visit the cabins at Donner Lake,
and see if there was any news from beyond the Sierra.
Clark found the children at Keseberg's cabin, and witnessed
such scenes of horror and suffering that he determined at
once to attempt to reach California. Returning to Alder
Creek, he told Mrs. Donner of the situation of her children,
A DEATH MORE CRUEL THAN STARVATION. 169
and says he informed her that he believed their lives were in
danger of a death more violent than starvation. He in-
formed her of his resolution to leave the mountains, and
taking a portion of the little meat that was left, he at once
started upon his journey. John Baptiste accompanied him.
The cub would have weighed about seventy pounds when
killed ; and now that its flesh was nearly gone, there was
really very little hope for any one unless relief came speedily.
In attempting to make their way across the mountains,
Clark and Baptiste did the wisest thing possible, yet they
well knew that they would perish by the way unless they
met relief.
Mrs. Tamsen Donner did not dare to leave her husband
alone during the night, but told Clark and Baptiste that she
should endeavor to make the journey to the cabins on the
following day. It was a long, weary walk over the pitiless
snow, but she had before her yearning eyes not only the
picture of her starving children, but the fear that they were
in danger of a more cruel death than starvation.
CHAPTER XV.
A Mountain Storm — Provisions Exhausted — Battling the Storm-Fiends — Black
» Despair — Icy Coldness — A Picture of Desolation — The Sleep of Death —
A Piteous Farewell — Falling into the Fire-well — Isaac Donner's Death —
Living upon Snow-water — Excruciating Pain — A Vision of Angels — "Patty
is Dying"— The Thumb of a Mitten— A Child's Treasures— The "Dolly"
of the Donner Party.
the evening of the second day after leaving Donner
Lake, Reed's party and the little band of famished
emigrants found themselves in a cold, bleak, uncom-
fortable hollow, somewhere near the lower end of
Summit Valley. Here the storm broke in all its
fury upon the doomed company. In addition to the cold,
sleet-like snow, a fierce, penetrating wind seemed to freeze
the very marrow in their bones. The relief party had urged
the tired, hungry, enfeebled emigrants forward at the great-
est possible speed all day, in order to get as near the settle-
ments as they could before the storm should burst upon them.
Besides, their provisions were exhausted, and they were
anxious to reach certain caches of supplies which they had
made while going to the cabins. Fearing that the storm
would prevent the party from reaching these caches, Mr.
Reed sent Joseph Jondro, Matthew Dofar, and Hiram Tur-
ner forward to the first cache, with instructions to get the
BLACK DESPAIR. I/ 1
provisions and return to the suffering emigrants. That very
night the storm came, and the three men had not been heard
from.
The camp was in a most inhospitable spot. Exposed to
the fury of the wind and storm, shelterless, supperless, over-
whelmed with discouragements, the entire party sank down
exhausted upon the snow. The entire party? No! There
was one man who never ceased to work. When a fire had
been kindled, and nearly every one had given up, this one
man, unaided, continued to strive to erect some sort of shel-
ter to protect the defenseless women and children. Planting
large pine boughs in the snow, he banked up the snow on
either side of. them so as to form a wall. Hour after hour,
in the darkness and raging storm, he toiled on alone, build-
ing the sheltering breastwork which was to ward off death
from the party who by this time had crept shiveringly under
its protection. But for this shelter, all would have perished
before morning. At midnight the man was still at work.
The darting snow particles seemed to cut his eye-balls, and
the glare of the fire and the great physical exhaustion under
which he was laboring, gradually rendered him blind. Like
his companions, he had borne a child in his arms all day
over the soft, yielding snow. Like them, he was drenched to
the skin, and his clothing was frozen stiff and hard with ice.
Yet he kept up the fire, built a great sheltering wall about
the sufferers, and went here and there amongst the wailing
and dying. With unabated violence the storm continued its
relentless fury. The survivors say it was the coldest night
they ever experienced. There is a limit to human endurance.
The man was getting stone-blind. Had he attempted to
speak, his tongue would have cloven to the roof of his mouth.
His senses were chilled, blunted, dead. Sleep had stilled the
plaintive cries of those about him. All was silent save the
1/2 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
storm. Without knowing it, this heroic man was yielding to
a sleep more powerful than that which had overcome his
companions. While trying to save those who were weaker
than himself, he had been literally freezing. Sightless, be-
numbed, moving half unconsciously about his work, he
staggered, staggered, staggered, and finally sank in the snow.
All slept! As he put no more fuel upon the fire, the flames
died down. The logs upon which the fire had rested gave
way, and most of the coals fell upon the snow. They were
in almost total darkness.
Presently some one awoke. It was Mrs. Breen, whose
motherly watchfulness prevented more than a few consecu-
tive moments' sleep. The camp was quickly aroused. All
were nearly frozen. Hiram Miller's hands were so cold and
frosted that the skin on the fingers cracked open when he
tried to split some kindlings. At last the fire was somehow
renewed. Meantime they had discovered their leader — he
who had been working throughout the night — lying cold,
speechless, and apparently dead upon the snow. Hiram Mil-
ler and Wm. McCutchen carried the man to the fire, chafed
his hands and limbs, rubbed his body vigorously, and worked
with him as hard as they could for two hours before he
showed signs of returning consciousness. Redoubling their
exertions, they kept at work until the cold, gray morning
dawned, ere the man was fully restored. Would you know
the name of this man, this hero ? It was James Frazier
Reed.
From this time forward, all the toil, all the responsibility
devolved upon Wm. McCutchen and Hiram Miller. Jondro,
Dofar, and Turner were caught in the drifts ahead. The
fishers or other wild animals had almost completely de-
voured the first cache of provisions, and while these men
were trying to reach the second cache, the storm imprisoned
A PICTURE OF DESOLATION. 1/3
them. They could neither go forward nor return. Cady and
Stone were between Donner Lake and Starved Camp, and
were in a like helpless condition. McCutchen and Miller
were the only ones able to do anything toward saving the
poor creatures who were huddled together at the miserable
camp. All the other men were completely disheartened by
the fearful calamity which had overtaken them. But for the
untiring exertions of these two men, death to all would have
been certain. McCutchen had on four shirts, and yet he be-
came so chilled while trying to kindle the fire, that in getting
warm he burned the back out of his shirts. He only discov-
ered the mishap by the scorching and burning of his flesh.
What a picture of desolation was presented to the inmates
of Starved Camp during the next three days! It stormed
incessantly. One who has not witnessed a storm on the
Sierra can not imagine the situation. A quotation from Bret
Harte's " Gabriel Conroy " will afford the best idea of the situ-
ation :
"Snow. Everywhere. As far as the eye could reach —
fifty miles, looking southward from the highest white peak.
Filling ravines and gulches, and dropping from the walls of
canyons in white shroud-like drifts, fashioning the dividing
ridge into the likeness of a monstrous grave, hiding the bases
of giant pines, and completely covering young trees and
larches, rimming with porcelain the bowl-like edges of still,
cold lakes, and undulating in motionless white billows to the
edge of the distant horizon. Snow lying everywhere on the
California Sierra, and still falling. It had been snowing in
finely granulated powder, in -damp, spongy flakes, in thin,
feathery plumes; snowing from a leaden sky steadily, snow-
ing fiercely, shaken out of purple-black clouds in white
flocculent masses, or dropping in long level lines like white
lances from the tumbled and broken heavens. But always
HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
silently ! The woods were so choked with it, it had so cush-
ioned and muffled the ringing rocks and echoing hills, that
all sound was deadened. The strongest gust, the fiercest
blast, awoke no sigh or complaint from the snow-packed,
rigid files of forest. There was no cracking of bough nor
crackle of underbrush; the overladen branches of pine and
fir yielded and gave away without a sound. The silence was
vast, measureless, complete !"
In alluding to these terrible days, in his diary, Mr. Reed
says, under date of March 6 :
"With the snow there is a perfect hurricane. In the night
there is a great crying among the children, and even with the
parents there is praying, crying, and lamentation on account
of the cold and the dread of death from hunger and the
howling storm. The men up nearly all night making fires.
Some of the men began praying. Several of them became
blind. I could not see the light of the fire blazing before me,
nor tell when it was burning. The light of heaven is, as it
were, shut out from us. The snow blows so thick and fast
that we can not see twenty feet looking against the wind. I
dread the coming night. Three of my men only, able to get
wood. The rest have given out for the present. It is still
snowing, and very cold. So cold that the few men employed
in cutting the dry trees down, have to come and warm about
every ten minutes. 'Hungry!' 'Hungry!' is the cry with
the children, and nothing to give them. 'Freezing!' is the
cry of the mothers who have nothing for their little, starving,
freezing children. Night closing fast, and with it the hurri-
cane increases.
"Mar. 7. Thank God day has once more appeared, al-
though darkened by the storm. Snowing as fast as ever,
and the hurricane has never ceased for ten minutes at a time
during one of the most dismal nights I have ever witnessed.
THE SLEEP OF DEATH. 1 75
I hope I shall never witness another such in a similar situa-
tion. Of all the praying and crying I ever heard, nothing
ever equaled it. Several times I expected to see the people
perish of the extreme cold. At one time our fire was nearly
gone, and had it not been for McCutchen's exertions it would
have entirely disappeared. If the fire had been lost, two
thirds of the camp would have been out of their misery be-
fore morning; but, as God would have it, we soon had it
blazing comfortably, and the sufferings of the people became
less for a time. Hope began to animate the bosoms of
many, young and old, when the cheering blaze rose through
the dry pine logs we had piled together. One would say,
' Thank God for the fire ! ' Another, ' How good it is ! ' The
poor, little, half-starved, half-frozen children would say, ' I'm
glad, I'm glad we have got some fire! Oh, how good it feels!
It is good our fire didn't go out!' At times the storm would
burst forth with such fury that I felt alarmed for the safety
of the people on account of the tall timber that surrounded
us."
Death entered the camp on the first night. He came to
claim one who was a true, faithful mother. One who merits
greater praise than language can convey. Though compara-
tively little has been told concerning her life by the survivors,
doubt not that Mrs. Elizabeth Graves was one of the noblest
of the mothers of the Donner Party. Her charity is kindly
remembered by all who have spoken her name. To her
companions in misfortune she always gave such food as she
possessed; for her children she now gave her life. The
last morsels of food, the last grain of flour, she had placed
in the mouths of her babes, though she was dying of starva-
tion.
Mrs. Farnham, who talked personally with Mrs. Breen,
gives the following description of that terrible night :
1/ HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
" Mrs. Breen told me that she had her husband and five
children together, lying with their feet to the fire, and their
heads under shelter of the snow breast-work. She sat by
them, with only moccasins on her feet, and a blanket drawn
over her shoulders and head, within which, and a shawl she
constantly wore, she nursed her poor baby on her knees.
Her milk had been gone several days, and the child was so
emaciated and lifeless that she scarcely expected at any time
on opening the covering to find it alive. Mrs. Graves lay
with her babe and three or four older children at the other
side of the fire. The storm was very violent all night, and
she watched through it, dozing occasionally for a few
minutes, and then rousing herself to brush the snow and
flying sparks from the covering of the sleepers. Toward
morning she heard one of the young girls opposite call to
her mother to cover her. The call was repeated several
times impatiently, when she spoke to the child, reminding
her of the exhaustion and fatigue her mother suffered in
nursing and carrying the baby, and bidding her cover herself,
and let her mother rest. Presently she heard the mother
speak, in a quiet, unnatural tone, and she called to one of
the men near her to go and speak to her. He arose after a
few minutes and found the poor sufferer almost past speak-
ing. He took her infant, and after shaking the snow from
her blanket, covered her as well as might be. Shortly after,
Mrs. Breen observed her to turn herself slightly, and throw
one arm feebly up, as if to go to sleep. She waited a little
while, and seeing her remain quite still, she walked around
to her. She was already cold in death. Her poor starving
child wailed and moaned piteously in the arms of its young
sister, but the mother's heart could no more warm or
nourish it."
The members of the second relief party realized that they
A PITEOUS FAREWELL. 1 77
were themselves in imminent danger of death. They were
powerless to carry the starving children over the deep, soft,
treacherous snow, and it was doubtful if they would be able
to reach the settlements unincumbered. Isaac Donner, one
of the sons of Jacob and Elizabeth Donner, perished during
one of the stormy nights. He was lying on the bed of pine
boughs between his sister Mary and Patty Reed, and died so
quietly that neither of the sleeping girls awoke.
The relief party determined to set out over the snow,
hasten to the settlements, and send back relief. Solomon
Hook, Jacob Donner's oldest boy, insisted that he was able
to walk, and therefore joined the party. Hiram Miller, an
old friend of the Reed family, took little Thomas Reed in
his arms, and set out with the others. Patty Reed, full of
hope and courage, refused to be carried by her father, and
started on foot.
With what emotions did the poor sufferers in Starved
Camp watch the party as it disappeared among the pines!
There was no food in camp, and death had already selected
two of their number. What a pitiable group it was! Could
a situation more desolate or deplorable be imagined? Mr.
Breen, as has been heretofore mentioned, was feeble, sickly,
and almost as helpless as the children. Upon Mrs. Breen de-
volved the care, not only of her husband, but of all who re--
mained in the fatal camp, for all others were children. John
Breen, their eldest son, was the strongest and most vigorous
in the family, yet the following incident shows how near he
was to death's door. It must have occurred the morning the
relief party left. The heat of the fire had melted a deep,
round hole in the snow. At the bottom of the pit was the
fire. The men were able to descend the sides of this cavity,
and frequently did so to attend to the fire. At one time,
while William McCutchen was down by the fire, John Breen
178 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
was sitting on the end of one of the logs on which the fire
had originally been kindled. Several logs had been laid side
by side, and the fire had been built in the middle of the floor
thus constructed. While the central logs had burned out
and let the fire descend, the outer logs remained with their
ends on the firm snow. On one of these logs John Breen
was sitting. Suddenly overcome by fatigue and hunger, he
fainted and dropped headlong into the fire-pit. Fortunately,
Mr. McCutchen caught the falling boy, and thus saved him
from a horrible death. It was some time before the boy was
fully restored to consciousness. Mrs. Breen had a small
quantity of sugar, and a little was placed between his
clenched teeth. This seemed to revive him, and he not only
survived, but is living to-day, the head of a large family, in
San Benito County.
Mrs. Breen's younger children, Patrick, James, Peter, and
the nursing babe, Isabella, were completely helpless and de-
pendent. Not less helpless were the orphan children of Mr.
and Mrs. Graves. Nancy was only about nine years old,
and upon her devolved the task of caring for the babe,
Elizabeth. Nancy Graves is now the wife of the earnest and
eloquent divine, Rev. R. W. Williamson, of Los Gatos, Santa
Clara County. To her lasting honor be it said, that although
she was dying of hunger in Starved Camp, yet she faithfully
tended, cared for, and saved her baby sister. Aside from
occasional bits of sugar, this baby and Mrs. Breen's had
nothing for an entire week, save snow-water. Besides Nancy
and Elizabeth, there were of the Graves children, Jonathan,
aged seven, and Franklin, aged five years. Franklin soon
perished. Starvation and exposure had so reduced his tiny
frame, that he could not endure these days of continual
fasting.
Mary M. Donner, whom all mention as one of the most
A VISION OF ANGELS.
lovely girls in the Donner Party, met with a cruel accident
the night before the relief party left Starved Camp. Her
feet had become frozen and insensible to pain. Happening
to lie too near the fire, one of her feet became dreadfully
burned. She suffered excruciating agony, yet evinced re-
markable fortitude. She ultimately lost four toes from her
left foot, on account of this sad occurrence.
Seven of the Breens, Mary Donner, and the three children
of Mr. and Mrs. Graves, made the eleven now waiting for
relief at Starved Camp. Mrs. Graves, her child Franklin,
and the boy, Isaac Donner, who lay stark in death upon the
snow, completed the fourteen who were left by the relief
party.
Meantime, how fared it with those who were pressing for-
ward toward the settlements ? At each step they sank two
or three feet into the snow. Of course those who were ahead
broke the path, and the others, as far as possible, stepped in
their tracks. This, Patty Reed could not do, because she
was too small. So determined was she, however, that de-
spite the extra exertion she was compelled to undergo, she
would not admit being either cold or fatigued. Patty Reed
has been mentioned as only eight years old. Many of the
survivors speak of her, however, in much the same terms as
John Breen, who says: "I was under the impression that she
was older. She had a wonderful mind for one of her age.
She had, I have often thought, as much sense as a grown
person." Over Patty's large, dark eyes, on this morning,
gradually crept a film. Previous starvation had greatly atten-
uated her system, and she was far too weak to endure the
hardship she had undertaken. Gradually the snow-mantled
forests, the forbidding mountains, the deep, dark canyon of
Bear River, and even the forms of her companions, faded
from view. In their stead came a picture of such glory and
l8O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
brightness as seldom comes to human eyes. It was a vision
of angels and of brilliant stars. She commenced calling her
father, and those with him, and began talking about the ra-
diant forms that hovered over her. Her wan, pale face was
illumined with smiles, and with an ecstasy of joy she talked
of the angels and stars, and of the happiness she experienced.
" Why, Reed," exclaimed McCutchen, " Patty is dying! " And
it was too true.
For a few moments the party forgot their own sufferings
and trials, and ministered to the wants of the spirituelle child,
whose entrance into the dark valley had been heralded by
troops of white-winged angels. At Starved Camp, Reed had
taken the hard, frozen sacks in which the provisions had
been carried, and by holding them to the fire had thawed out
the seams, and scraped therefrom about a teaspoonful of
crumbs. These he had placed in the thumb of his woolen
mitten to be used in case of emergency. Little did he sup-
pose that the emergency would come so soon. Warming
and moistening these crumbs between his own lips, the father
placed them in his child's mouth. Meantime they had
wrapped a blanket around her chilled form, and were busily
chafing her hands and feet. Her first return to conscious-
ness was signaled by the regrets she expressed at having
been awakened from her beautiful dream. To this day she
cherishes the memory of that vision as the dearest, most en-
chanting of all her life. After this, some of the kind-hearted
Frenchmen in the party took turns with Reed in carrying
Patty upon their backs.
Past-midshipman S. E. Woodworth is a name that in most ,
published accounts figures conspicuously among the relief ;
parties organized to rescue the Donner Party. At the time
Reed and his companions were suffering untold horrors on
the mountains, and those left at Starved Camp were perishing
A CHILD'S TREASURES. 18 1
of starvation, Woodworth, with an abundance of supplies,
was lying idle in camp at Bear Valley. This was the part
that Selim E. Woodworth took in the relief of the sufferers.
The three men who had been sent forward to the caches,
left the remnant of the provisions which had not been de-
stroyed, where it could easily be seen by Reed and his
companions. Hurrying forward, they reached Woodworth's
camp, and two men, John Stark and Howard Oakley, re-
turned and met Reed's party. It was quite time. With
frozen feet and exhausted bodies, the members of the second
relief were in a sad plight. They left the settlements strong,
hearty men. They returned in a half-dead condition. Sev-
eral lost some of their toes on account of having them frozen,
and one or two were crippled for life. They had been three
days on the way from Starved Camp to Woodworth's. Cady
and Stone overtook Reed and his companions on the second
day after leaving Starved Camp. On the night of the third
day, they arrived at Woodworth's.
When Patty Reed reached Woodworth's and had been
provided with suitable food, an incident occurred which fully
illustrates the tenderness and womanliness of her nature.
Knowing that her mother and dear ones were safe, knowing
that relief would speedily return to those on the mountains,
realizing that for her there was to be no more hunger, or
snow, and that she would no longer be separated from her
father, her feelings may well be imagined. In her quiet joy
she was not wholly alone. Hidden away in her bosom,
during all the suffering and agony of the journey over the
mountains, were a number of childish treasures. First, there
was a lock of silvery gray hair which her own hand had cut
from the head of her Grandmother Keyes way back on the
Big Blue River. Patty had always been a favorite with her
grandma, and when the latter died, Patty secured this lock of
1 82 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
hair. She tied it up in a little piece of old-fashioned lawn,
dotted with wee bjue flowers, and always carried it in her
bosom. But this was not all. She had a dainty little glass
salt-cellar, scarcely larger than the inside of a humming-bird's
nest, and, what was more precious than this, a tiny, wooden
doll. This doll had been her constant companion. It had
black eyes and hair, and was indeed very pretty. At Wood-
worth's camp, Patty told " Dolly" all her joy and gladness,
and who can not pardon the little girl for thinking her dolly
looked happy as she listened ?
Patty Reed is now Mrs. Frank Lewis, of San Jose, Cal.
She has a pleasant home and a beautiful family of children.
Yet oftentimes the mother, the grown-up daughters, and the
younger members of the family, gather with tear-dimmed
eyes about a little sacred box. In this box is the lock of
hair in the piece of lawn, the tiny salt-cellar, the much loved
" Dolly," and an old woolen mitten, in the thumb of which
are yet the traces of fine crumbs.
CHAPTER XVI.
A Mother at Starved Camp — Repeating the Litany — Hoping in Despair — Wast-
ing Away — The Precious Lump of Sugar — "James is Dying" — Restoring a
Life— Relentless Hunger— The Silent Night- Vigils— The Sight of Earth-
Descending the Snow-Pit — The Flesh of the Dead — Refusing to Eat — The
Morning Star— The Mercy of God— The Mutilated Forms— The Dizziness
of Delirium — Faith Rewarded — "There is Mrs. Breen !"
jERY noble was the part which Mrs. Margaret Breen
performed in this Donner tragedy, and very beauti-
fully has that part been recorded by a woman's hand.
It is written so tenderly, so delicately, and with so
much reverence for the maternal love which alone
sustained Mrs. Breen, that it can hardly be improved. This
account was published by its author, Mrs. Farnham, in 1849,
and is made the basis of the following sketch. With altera-
tions here and there, made for the sake of brevity, the article
is as it was written:
There was no food in Starved Camp. There was nothing
to eat save a few seeds, tied in bits of cloth, that had been
brought along by some one, and the precious lump of sugar.
There were also a few teaspoonfuls of tea. They sat and lay
by the fire most of the day, with what heavy hearts, who
shall know! They were upon about thirty feet of snow.
The dead lay before them, a ghastlier sight in the sunshine
184 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
that succeeded the storm, than when the dark clouds over-
hung them. They had no words of cheer to speak to each
other, no courage or hope to share, but those which pointed
to a life where hunger and cold could never come, and their
benumbed faculties were scarcely able to seize upon a con-
solation so remote from the thoughts and wants that ab-
sorbed their whole being.
A situation like this will not awaken in common natures
religious trust. Under such protracted suffering, the animal
outgrows the spiritual in frightful disproportion. Yet the
mother's sublime faith, which had brought her thus far
through her agonies, with a heart still warm toward those
who shared them, did not fail her now. She spoke gently to
one and another; asked her husband to repeat the litany,
and the children to join her in the responses; and endeavored
to fix their minds upon the time when the relief would prob-
ably come. Nature, as unerringly as philosophy could have
done, taught her that the only hope of sustaining those
about her, was to set before them a termination to their
sufferings.
What days and nights were those that went by while they
waited! Life waning visibly in those about her; not a morsel
of food to offer them; her own infant — and the little one
that had been cherished and saved through all by the mother
now dead — wasting hourly into the more perfect image of
death; her husband worn to a skeleton; it needed the fullest
measure of exalted faith, of womanly tenderness and self-
sacrifice, to sustain her through such a season. She watched
by night as well as by day. She gathered wood to keep
them warm. She boiled the handful of tea and dispensed it
to them, and when she found one sunken and speechless, she
broke with her teeth a morsel of the precious sugar, and put
it in his lips. She fed her babe freely on snow-water, and
NICHOLAS CLARK.
1879.
RESTORING A LIFE. 185
scanty as was the wardrobe she had, she managed to get fresh
clothing next to its skin two or three times a week. Where,
one asks in wonder and reverence, did she get the strength
and courage for all this? She sat all night by her family, her
elbows on her knees, brooding over the meek little victim
that lay there, watching those who slept, and occasionally
dozing with a fearful consciousness of their terrible condition
always upon her. The sense of peril never slumbered. Many
times during the night she went to the sleepers to ascertain if
they all still breathed. She put her hand under their blankets,
and held it before the mouth. In this way she assured her-
self that they were yet alive. But once her blood curdled to
find, on approaching her hand to the lips of one of her own
children, there was no warm breath upon it. She tried to
open his mouth, and found the jaws set. She roused her hus-
band, "Oh! Patrick, man! arise and help me! James is dy-
ing!" " Let him die!" said the miserable father, "he will be
better off than any of us." She was terribly shocked by this
reply. In her own expressive language, her heart stood still
when she heard it. She was bewildered, and knew not where
to set her weary hands to work, but she recovered in a few
moments and began to chafe the breast and hands of the
perishing boy. She broke a bit of sugar, and with consid-
erable effort forced it between his teeth with a few drops of
snow-water. She saw him swallow, then a slight convulsive
motion stirred his features, he stretched his limbs feebly, and
in a moment more opened his eyes and looked upon her.
How fervent were her thanks to the Great Father, whom she
forgot not day or night.
Thus she went on. The tea leaves were eaten, the seeds
chewed, the sugar all dispensed. The days were bright, and
compared with the nights, comfortable. Occasionally, when
the sun shone, their voices were heard, though generally they
1 86 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
sat or lay in a kind of stupor from which she often found it
alarmingly difficult to arouse them. When the gray evening
twilight drew its deepening curtain over the cold glittering
heavens and the icy waste, and when the famishing bodies
had been covered from the frost that pinched them with but
little less keenness than the unrelenting hunger, the solitude
seemed to rend her very brain. Her own powers faltered.
But she said her prayers over many times in the darkness
as well as the light, and always with renewed trust in Him
who had not yet forsaken her, and thus she sat out her
weary watch. After the turning of the night she always sat
watching for the morning star, which seemed every time she
saw it rise clear in the cold eastern sky, to renew the promise,
"As thy day is, so shall thy strength be."
Their fire had melted the snow to a considerable depth,
and they were lying on the bank above. Thus they had less
of its heat than they needed, and found some difficulty in
getting the fuel she gathered placed so it would burn. One
morning after she had hailed her messenger of promise, and
the light had increased so as to render objects visible in the
distance, she looked as usual over the white expanse that lay
to the south-west, to see if any dark moving specks were
visible upon its surface. Only the tree-tops, which she had
scanned so often as to be quite familiar with their appear-
ance, were to be seen. With a heavy heart she brought
herself back from that distant hope to consider what was
immediately about her. The fire had sunk so far away that
they had felt but little of its warmth the last two nights, and
casting her eyes down into the snow-pit, whence it sent forth
only a dull glow, she thought she saw the welcome face of
beloved mother Earth. It was such a renewing sight after
their long, freezing separation from it ! She immediately
aroused her eldest son, John, and with a great deal of diffi-
REFUSING TO EAT. l8/
culty, and repeating words of cheer and encouragement,
brought him to understand that she wished him to descend
by one of the tree-tops which had fallen in so as to make a
sort of ladder, and see if they could reach the naked earth,
and if it were possible for them all to go down. She
trembled with fear at the vacant silence in which he at first
gazed at her, but at length, after she had told him a great
many times, he said "Yes, mother," and went.
He reached the bottom safely, and presently spoke to her.
There was naked, dry earth under his feet ; it was warm, and
he wished her to come down. She laid her baby beside
some of the sleepers, and descended. Immediately she de-
termined upon taking them all down. How good, she
thought, as she descended the boughs, was the God whom
she trusted. By perseverence, by entreaty, by encourage-
ment, and with her own aid, she got them into this snug
shelter.
Relief came not, and as starvation crept closer and closer
to himself and those about him, Patrick Breen determined
that it was his duty to employ the means of sustaining life
which God seemed to have placed before them. The lives
of all might be saved by resorting to such food as others, in
like circumstances, had subsisted upon. Mrs. Breen, how-
ever, declared that she would die, and see her children die,
before her life or theirs should be preserved by such means.
If ever the father gave to the dying children, it was without
her consent or knowledge. She never tasted, nor knew of
her children partaking. Mrs. Farnham says that when Pat-
rick Breen ascended to obtain the dreadful repast, his wife,
frozen with horror, hid her face in her hands, and could not
look up. She was conscious of his return, and of something
going on about the fire, but she could not bring herself to
uncover her eyes till all had subsided again into silence.
1 88 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Her husband remarked that perhaps they were wrong in
rejecting a means of sustaining life of which others had
availed themselves, but she put away the suggestion so fear-
fully that it was never renewed, nor acted upon by any
of her family. She and her children were now, indeed,
reaching the utmost verge of life. A little more battle with
the grim enemies that had pursued them so relentlessly,
twenty-four, or at most forty-eight hours of such warfare,
and all would be ended. The infants still breathed, but were
so wasted they could only be moved by raising them bodily
with the hands. It seemed as if even their light weight
would have dragged the limbs from their bodies, Occasion-
ally, through the day, she ascended the tree to look out. It
was an incident now, and seemed to kindle more life than
when it only required a turn of the head or a glance of the
eye to tell that there was no living thing near them. She
could no longer walk on the snow, but she had still strength
enough to crawl from tree to tree to gather a few boughs,
which she threw along before her to the pit, and piled them
in to renew the fire. The eighth day was passed. On the
ninth morning she ascended to watch for her star of mercy.
Clear and bright it stood over against her beseeching gaze,
set in the light liquid blue that overflows the pathway of the
opening day. She prayed earnestly as she gazed, for she
knew that there were but few hours of life in those dearest
to her. If human aid came not that day, some eyes, that
would soon look imploringly into hers, would be closed in
death before that star would rise again. Would she herself,
with all her endurance and resisting love, live to see it?
Were they at length to perish? Great God! should it be
permitted that they, who had been preserved through so
much, should die at last so miserably?
Her eyes were dim, and her sight wavering. She could not
FAITH REWARDED. 189
distinguish trees from men on the snow, but had they been
near, she could have heard them, for her ear had grown so
sensitive that the slightest unaccustomed noise arrested her
attention. She went below with a heavier heart than ever
before. She had not a word of hope to answer the languid,
inquiring countenances that were turned to her face, and she
was conscious that it told the story of her despair. Yet she
strove with some half-insane words to suggest that somebody
would surely come to them that day. Another would be too
late, and the pity of men's hearts and the mercy of God
would surely bring them. The pallor of death seemed al-
ready to be stealing over the sunken countenances that
surrounded her, and, weak as she was, she could remain
below but a few minutes together. She felt she could have
died had she let go her resolution at any time within the last
forty-eight hours. They repeated the Litany. The responses
came so feebly that they were scarcely audible, and the pro-
tracted utterances seemed wearisome. At last it was over,
and they rested in silence.
The sun mounted high and higher in the heavens, and
when the day was three or four hours old she placed her
trembling feet again upon the ladder to look out once more.
The corpses of the dead lay always before her as she reached
the top — the mother and her son, and the little boy, whose
remains she could not even glance at since they had been
mutilated. The blanket that covered them could not shut
out the horror of the sight.
The rays of the sun fell on her with a friendly warmth, but
she could not look into the light that flooded the white ex-
panse. Her eyes lacked strength and steadiness, and she
rested herself against a tree and endeavored to gather her
wandering faculties in vain. The enfeebled will could no
longer hold rule over them. She had broken perceptions,
HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
fragments of visions, contradictory and mixed — former min-
gled with latter times. Recollections of plenty and rural
peace came up from her clear, tranquil childhood, which
seemed to have been another state of existence; flashes of
her latter life — its comfort and abundance — gleams of ma-
ternal pride in her children who had been growing up about
her to ease and independence.
She lived through all the phases which her simple life had
ever worn, in the few moments of repose after the dizzy effort
of ascending; as the thin blood left her whirling brain and
returned to its shrunken channels, she grew more clearly
conscious of the terrible present, and remembered the weary
quest upon which she came. It was not the memory of
thought, it was that of love, the old tugging at the heart that
had never relaxed long enough to say, "Now I am done; I
can bear no more!" The miserable ones down there — for
them her wavering life came back ; at thought of them she
turned her face listlessly the way it had so often gazed. But
this time something caused it to flush as if the blood, thin
and cold as it was, would burst its vessels! What was it?
Nothing that she saw, for her eyes were quite dimmed by
the sudden access of excitement! It was the sound of voices!
By a superhuman effort she kept herself from falling! Was
it reality or delusion? She must at least live to know the
truth. It came again and again. She grew calmer as she
became more assured, and the first distinct words she heard
uttered were, " There is Mrs. Breen alive yet, anyhow ! " Three
men were advancing toward her. She knew that now there
would be no more starving. Death was repelled for this time
from the precious little flock he had so long threatened, and
she might offer up thanksgiving unchecked by the dreads
and fears that had so long frozen her.
CHAPTER XVII.
The Rescue — California Aroused — A Yerba Buena Newspaper — Tidings of Woe
— A Cry of Distress — Noble Generosity — Subscriptions for the Donner
Party — The First and Second Reliefs — Organization of the Third — The
Dilemma — Voting to Abandon a Family — The Fatal Ayes — John Stark's
Bravery — Carrying the Starved Children — A Plea for the Relief Party.
||j|OSTER and Eddy, it will be remembered, were of the
fifteen who composed the " Forlorn Hope." Foster
was a man of strong, generous impulses, and great
determination. His boy was at Donner Lake, and
his wife's mother and brother. He hardly took time
to rest and recruit his wasted strength before he began or-
ganizing a party to go to their rescue. His efforts were
ably seconded by W. H. Eddy, whose wife and daughter had
perished, but whose boy was still alive at the cabins.
California was thoroughly aroused over tidings which had
come from the mountains. It was difficult to get volunteers
to undertake the journey over the Sierra, but horses, mules,
provisions, and good wages were allowed all who would ven-
ture the perilous trip. The trouble with Mexico had caused
many of the able-bodied citizens of California to enlist in the
service. Hence it was that it was so difficult to organize re-
lief parties.
I Q2 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
The following extracts are mao!e from the California Stai
a newspaper published at " Yerba Buena," as San Francisc<
was then called. They do justice to the sentiment of th<
people of California, and indicate something of the willing-
ness of the pioneers to aid the Donner Party. From ttu
Star of January 16, 1847, is taken the following article, whicl
appeared as an editorial:
"EMIGRANTS ON THE MOUNTAINS.
" It is probably not generally known to the people that
there is now in the California mountains, in a most di<
tressing situation, a party of emigrants from the Unite*
States, who were prevented from crossing the mountains b]
an early, heavy fall of snow. The party consists of about
sixty persons — men, women, and children. They were al
most entirely out of provisions when they reached the fo<
of the mountains, and but for the timely succor afforde
them by Capt. J. A. Sutter, one of the most humane am
liberal men in California, they must have all perished in
few days. Capt. Sutter, as soon as he ascertained their sit-
uation, sent five mules loaded with provisions to them,
second party was dispatched with provisions for them, but
they found the mountains impassable in consequence of th<
snow. We hope that our citizens will do something for th<
relief of these unfortunate people."
From the same source, under date of February 6, 1847, it
taken the following:
"PUBLIC MEETING.
" It will be recollected that in a previous number of oui
paper, we called the attention of our citizens to the situatioi
of a company of unfortunate emigrants now in the California
mountains. For the purpose of making their situation mor
fully known to the people, and of adopting measures fc
SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE DONNER PARTY. 1 93
their relief, a public meeting was called by the Honorable
Washington A. Bartlett, alcalde of the town, on Wednesday
evening last. The citizens generally attended, and in a very
short time the sum of $Soo was subscribed to purchase pro-
visions, clothing, horses, and mules to bring the emigrants
in. Committees were appointed to call on those who could
not attend the meeting, and there is no doubt but that $500
or $600 more will be raised. This speaks well for Yerba
Buena."
One other extract is quoted from the Star of February 13,
1847:
"COMPANY LEFT.
"A company of twenty men left here on Sunday last for
the California mountains, with provisions, clothing, etc., for
the suffering emigrants now there. The citizens of this place
subscribed about $1,500 for their relief, which was expended
for such articles as the emigrants would be most likely to
need. Mr. Greenwood, an old mountaineer, went with the
company as pilot. If it is possible to cross the mountains,
they will get to the emigrants in time to save them."
These three articles may aid the reader in better under-
standing what has heretofore been said about the organiza-
tion of the relief parties. It will be remembered that James
F. Reed and William McCutchen first procured animals and
provisions from Capt. Sutter, attempted to cross the mount-
ains, found the snow impassable, cached their provisions, and
returned to the valleys. Reed, as described in his letter to
the Rural Press, went to San Jose, Cal., and thence to Yerba
Buena. McCutchen went to Nap'a and Sonoma, and awak-
ened such an interest that a subscription of over $500 was
subscribed for the emigrants, besides a number of horses and
mules. Lieut. W. L. Maury and M. G. Vallejo headed this
IQ4 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
subscription, and $500 was promised to Greenwood if he suc-
ceeded in raising a company, and in piloting them over the
mountains. In order to get men, Greenwood and McCutchea
went to Yerba Buena, arriving there almost at the same time
with Reed. The above notices chronicle the events which
succeeded the announcement of their mission. The funds
and supplies contributed were placed in charge of Lieut.
Woodworth. This party set out immediately, and their
journey has been described. They form the second relief
party, because immediately upon the arrival of the seven
who survived of the " Forlorn Hope," Capt. Tucker's party
had been organized at Johnson's and Sutter's, and had
reached Donner Lake first.
When Foster and Eddy attempted to form a relief party,
they found the same difficulty in securing volunteers which
others had encountered. It was such a terrible undertaking,
that no man cared to risk his life in the expedition.
Captain J. B. Hull, of the United States navy, and Com-
mander of the Northern District of California, furnished
Foster and Eddy with horses and provisions. Setting out
from Johnson's ranch, they arrived at Woodworth's camp in
the afternoon. During that very night two of Reed's men
came to the camp, and brought news that Reed and a por-
tion of his party were a short distance back in the mount-
ains. When Reed and his companions were brought into
camp, and it was ascertained that fourteen people had been
left in the snow, without food, the third relief party was at
once organized. The great danger and suffering endured by
those who had composed the first and second relief parties,
prevented men from volunteering. On this account greater
honor is due those who determined to peril their lives to save
the emigrants. Hiram Miller, although weak and exhausted
with the fatigues and starvation he had just undergone in the
VOTING TO ABANDON A FAMILY. 195
second relief party, joined Messrs. Foster and Eddy. These
three, with Wm. Thompson, John Stark, Howard Oakley,
and Charles Stone, set out from Woodworth's camp the next
morning after Reed's arrival. It was agreed that Stark, Oak-
ley, and Stone were to remain with the sufferers at Starved
Camp, supply them with food, and conduct them to Wood-
worth's camp. Foster, Eddy, Thompson, and Miller were to
press forward to the relief of those at Donner Lake. The
three men, therefore, whose voices reached Mrs. Breen, were
Stark, Oakley, and Stone.
When these members of the third relief party reached the
deep, well-like cavity in which were the seven Breens, the
three Graves children, and Mary Donner, a serious question
arose. None of the eleven, except Mrs. Breen and John
Breen, were able to walk. A storm appeared to be gather-
ing upon the mountains, and the supply of provisions was
very limited. The lonely situation, the weird, desolate sur-
roundings, the appalling scenes at the camp, and above all,
the danger of being overtaken by a snow-storm, filled the
minds of Oakley and Stone with terror. When it was found
that nine out of the eleven people must be carried over the
snow, it is hardly to be wondered at that a proposition was
made to leave a portion of the sufferers. It was proposed to
take the three Graves children and Mary Donner. These
four children would be quite a sufficient burden for the three
men, considering the snow over which they must travel. The
Breens, or at least such of them as could not walk, were to
be abandoned. This was equivalent to leaving the father,
mother, and five children, because the mother would not
abandon any member of her family, and John, who alone
could travel, was in a semi-lifeless condition. The members
of the third relief party are said to have taken a vote upon
the question. This scene is described in the manuscript of
196 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Hon. James F. Breen: "Those who were in favor of return-
ing to the settlements, and leaving the Breens for a future re-
lief party (which, under the circumstances, was equivalent to
the death penalty), were to answer 'aye.' The question was
put to each man by name, and as the names were called, the
dreadful 'aye' responded. John Stark's name was the last
one called, because he had, during the discussion of the ques-
tion, strongly opposed the proposition for abandonment, and
it was naturally supposed that when he found himself in so
hopeless a minority he would surrender. When his name
was called, he made no answer until some one said to him :
'Stark, won't you vote? ' Stark, during all this proceeding of
calling the roll, had stood apart from his companions with
bowed head and folded arms. When he was thus directly
appealed to, he answered quickly and decidedly: " No, gentle-
men, I will not abandon these people. I am here on a mis-
sion of mercy, and I will not half do the work. You can all
go if you want to, but I shall stay by these people while they
and I live.'"
It was nobly said. If the Breens had been left at Starved
Camp, even until the return of Foster, Eddy, Miller, and
Thompson from the lake, none would have ever reached the
settlements. In continuation of the above narration, the fol-
lowing is taken from the manuscript of John Breen: " Stark
was finally left alone. To his great bodily strength, and un-
excelled courage, myself and others owe our lives. There
was probably no other man in California at that time, who
had the intelligence, determination, and what was absolutely
necessary in that emergency, the immense physical powers
of John Stark. He was as strong as two ordinary men. On
his broad shoulders, he carried the provisions, most of the
blankets, and most of the time some of the weaker children.
In regard to this, he would laughingly say that he could
CARRYING THE STARVED CHILDREN. 1 97
carry them all, if there was room on his back, because they
were so light from starvation."
By every means in his power, Stark would cheer and en-
courage the poor sufferers. Frequently he would carry one
or two ahead a little way, put them down, and return for the
others. James F. Breen says: "I distinctly remember that
myself and Jonathan Graves were both carried by Stark, on
his back, the greater part of the journey." Others speak
similarly.
Regarding this brave man, Dr. J. C. Leonard lias con-
tributed much valuable information, from which is selected
the following:
"John Stark was born in 1817, in Wayne County, Indiana.
His father, William Stark, came from Virginia, and was one
of the "first settlers of Kentucky, arriving there about the
same time as Daniel Boone. He married a cousin of Daniel
Boone, and they had a family of eight children. T. J. Stark,
the oldest son, now lives at French Corral, Nevada County,
California. John Stark, the younger brother, started from
Monmouth County, Illinois, in the spring of 1846, but taking
the Fort Hall road, reached California in safety. He was a
powerfully built man, weighing two hundred and twenty
pounds. He was sheriff of Napa County for six years, and
in 1852 represented that county in the State Legislature. He
died near Calistoga, in 1875, °f heart disease. His death
was instantaneous, and occurred while pitching hay from a
wagon. He was the father of eleven children, six of whom,
with his wife, are now living."
Each one of the persons who were taken from Starved Camp
by this man and his two companions, reached Sutter's Fort
in safety. James F. Breen had his feet badly frozen, and
afterwards burned while at the camp. No one had any hope
that they could be saved, and when the party reached the fort,
198
HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
a doctor was sought to amputate them. None could be foun<
and kind nature effected a cure which a physician would havi
pronounced impossible.
In concluding this chapter, it is quite appropriate to quot
the following, written by J. F. Breen : "No one can attacl
blame to those who voted to leave part of the emigrants. Il
was a desperate case. Their idea was to save as many
possible, and they honestly believed that by attempting t<
save all, all would be lost. But this consideration — and tl
further one that Stark was an entire stranger to every one ii
the camps, not bound to them by any tie of blood or kii
dred, nor having any hope of reward, except the grand coi
sciousness of doing a noble act — makes his conduct shii
more lustrously in the eyes of every person who admii
nature's true and only nobility."
CHAPTER XVIII.
Arrival of the Third Relief— The Living and the Dead — Captain George Don-
ner Dying — Mrs. Murphy's Words— Foster and Eddy at the Lake — Tamsen
Donner and her Children — A Fearful Struggle — The Husband's Wishes— ^
Walking Fourteen Miles — Wifely Devotion — Choosing Death — The Night
Journey — An Unparalleled Ordeal — An Honored Name — Three Little
Waifs— "And Our Parents are Dead."
, Foster, Thompson, and Miller passed Nicholas
Clark and John Baptiste near the head of Donner
Lake. These starving fugitives had journeyed thus
far in their desperate effort to cross the mountains.
Of all those encamped at Alder Creek the sole sur-
vivors now were George Donner, the captain of the Donner
Party, and his faithful wife, Tamsen Donner. Under the
snow-drifts which covered the valley, lay Jacob Donner,
Elizabeth Donner, Lewis Donner, Samuel Donner, Samuel
Shoemaker, Joseph Rhinehart, and James Smith. One more
was soon to be added to the number. It was the man whose
name had been given to the company; the only one who
died of a lingering, painful disease. The injury of George
Donner's hand had grown into a feverish, virulent ulceration,
which must have partaken of the nature of erysipelas. At
all events, mortification had set in, and when the third relief
2OO HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
party arrived it had reached his shoulder. In a few hours at
most he must die.
Foster's party found that much suffering had occurred at
Donner Lake during the tearful days which elapsed between
Reed's departure and their own arrival. Mrs. Lavina Mur-
phy had charge of her son, Simon Murphy, her grandchild,
George Foster, of the child James Eddy, and of the three
little Donner girls, Frances, Georgia, and Eliza. All dwelt
in the same cabin, and with them was Lewis Keseberg. Fos-
ter and Eddy found all there, save their own children. They
were both dead. Keseberg has generally been accused of the
murder of little George Foster. Except Mrs. Murphy, the
oldest of those who were with Keseberg was only nine years
of age. All that the children know is that Keseberg took
the child to bed with him one night, and that it was dead
next morning. One of the little ones who survived — one
whose memory has proven exceedingly truthful upon all
points wherein her evidence could be possibly substantiated
— and who is now Mrs. Georgia A. Babcock — gives the mild-
est version of this sad affair which has ever appeared in
print. She denies the story, so often reiterated, that Kese-
berg took the child to bed with him and ate it up before
morning; but writes the following: " In the morning the
child was dead. Mrs. Murphy took it, sat down near the
bed where my sister and myself were lying, laid the little one
on her lap, and made remarks to other persons, accusing
Keseberg of killing it. After a while he came, took it from
her, and hung it up in sight, inside the cabin, on the wall."
Foster, Eddy, Thompson, and Miller remained but a little
while at the mountain camp. During this time Mr. Foster
had no opportunity to talk with Mrs. Murphy save in Kese-
berg's presence. Afterwards, when the children told him of
the suspicions expressed in their presence by Mrs. Murphy,
THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. 2OI
Foster deeply regretted that he had not sought a private in-
terview with her, for the purpose of learning the reasons for
her belief.
In the morning the relief party was to start back to the
settlements. Eddy was to carry Georgia Donner; Thomp-
son, Frances Donner; Miller, Eliza Donner; and Foster was
to carry Simon Murphy. John Baptiste and Nicholas Clark
remained at the head of Donner Lake, and were to accom-
pany the party. This left Mr. and Mrs. Donner at Alder
Creek, and Keseberg and Mrs. Murphy at the cabins. Mrs.
Murphy had cared for her children and her grandchildren,
and ministered to the wants of those around her, until she
was sick, exhausted, and utterly helpless. She could not
walk. She could scarcely rise from her bed. With all the
tenderness of a son, Mr. Foster gave her such provisions as
he could leave, procured her wood, and did whatever he was
able to do to render her comfortable. He also promised to
return speedily, and with such assistance that he could carry
her over the summits to her children.
The very afternoon that the third relief party reached the
cabins, Simon Murphy discovered a woman wandering about
in the snow as if lost. It proved to be Mrs. Tamsen Donner.
She had wearily traveled over the deep snows from Alder
Creek, as narrated in a previous chapter, to see her children,
and, if necessary, to protect their lives. Oh! the joy and
the pain of the meeting of those little ones and their mother.
As they wound their arms about her neck, kissed her lips,
laughed in her eyes, and twined their fingers in her hair,
what a struggle must have been taking place in her soul. As
the pleading, upturned faces of her babies begged her not to
leave them, her very heart-strings must have been rent with
agony. Well may the voice quiver or the hand tremble that
attempts to portray the anguish of this mother during that
202 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
farewell interview. From the very first moment, her resolu-
tion to return to her husband remained unshaken. The
members of the relief party entreated her to go with her
children and save her own life. They urged that there could
only be a few hours of life left in George Donner. This was
so true that she once ventured the request that they remain
until she could return to Alder Creek, and see if he were yet
alive. The gathering storm-clouds, which had hovered over
the summit for days, compelled them to refuse this request.
An hour's delay might be fatal to all.
George Donner knew that he was dying, and had fre-
quently urged his wife to leave him, cross the mountains,
and take care of her children. As she held her darlings in
her arms, it required no prophetic vision to disclose pictures
of sadness, of lonely childhood, of longing girlhood, of pil-
lows wet with tears, if these three little waifs were left to
wander friendless in California. She never expressed a belief
that she would see that land of promise beyond the Sierra.
Often had her calm, earnest voice told them of the future
which awaited them, and so far as possible had she prepared
them to meet thatf uture without the counsel or sympathy of
father or mother.
The night-shadows, creeping through the shivering pines,
warned her of the long, dreary way over which her tired feet
must pass ere she reached her dying husband's side. She is
said to have appeared strangely composed. The struggle
was silent. The poor, bleeding heart brought not a single
moan to the lips. It was a choice between life, hope, and
her clinging babes, or a lonely vigil by a dying husband, and
an unknown, shroudless death in the wintry mountains. Her
husband was sixty-three; he was well stricken in years, and
his life was fast ebbing away. If she returned through the
frosty night-winds, over the crisp, freezing snow, she would
W. C. GRAVES.
1879.
AN HONORED NAME. 203
travel fourteen miles that day. The strong, healthy men
composing the relief parties frequently could travel but five
or six miles in a day. If she made the journey, and found
her husband was dead, she could have no hope of returning
on the morrow. She had suffered too long from hunger and
privation to hope to be able to return and overtake the relief
party. It was certain life or certain death. On the side of
the former was maternal love; on the side of the latter, wifely
devotion. The whole wide range of history can not produce
a parallel example of adherence to duty, and to the dictates
of conjugal fidelity. With quick, convulsive pressure of her
little ones to her heart; with a hasty, soul-throbbing kiss
upon the lips of each; with a prayer that was stifled with a
sob of agony, Tamsen Donner hurried away to her husband.
Through the gathering darkness, past the shadowy sentinels
of the forest, they watched with tearful eyes her retreating
form. As if she dared not trust another sight of the little
faces — as if to escape the pitiful wail of her darlings — she ran
straight forward until out of sight and hearing. She never
once looked back.
There are mental struggles which so absorb the being and
soul that physical terrors or tortures are unnoticed. Tamsen
Donner's mind was passing through such an ordeal. The
fires of Moloch, the dreadful suttee, were sacrifices which long
religious education sanctioned, and in which the devotees
perished amidst the plaudits of admiring multitudes. This
woman had chosen a death of solitude, of hunger, of bitter
cold, of pain-racked exhaustion, and was actuated by only
the pure principles of wifely love. Already the death-damp
was gathering on George Donner's brow. At the utmost,
she could hope to do no more than smooth the pillow of the
dying, tenderly clasp the fast-chilling hand, press farewell
kisses upon the whitening lips, and finally close the dear,
2O4 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
tired eyes. For this, only this, she was yielding life, the
world, and her darling babes. Fitted by culture and refine-
ment to be an ornament to society, qualified by education to
rear her daughters to lives of honor and usefulness, how it
must have wrung her heart to allow her little ones to go un-
protected into a wilderness of strangers. But she could not
leave her husband to die alone. Rather solitude, better death,
than desert the father of her children. O, Land of the Sun-
set! let the memory of this wife's devotion be ever enshrined
in the hearts of your faithful daughters! In tablets thus pure,
engrave the name of Tamsen Donner.
When the June sunshine gladdened the Sacramento Val-
ley, three little barefooted girls walked here and there among
the houses and tents of Sutter's Fort. They were scantily
clothed, and one carried a thin blanket. At night they said
their prayers, lay down in whatever tent they happened to
be, and, folding the blanket about them, fell asleep in each
other's arms. When they were hungry, they asked food of
whomsoever they met. If any one inquired who they were,
they answered as their mother had taught them: "We are
the children of Mr. and Mrs. George Donner." But they
added something they had learned since. It was, "And our
parents are dead."
CHAPTER XIX.
False Ideas about the Donner Party — Accused of Six Murders — Interviews
with Lewis Keseberg — His Statement — An Educated German — A Predes-
tined Fate — Keseberg's Lameness — Slanderous 'Reports — Covered with
Snow — "Loathsome, Insipid, and Disgusting" — Longings toward Suicide
— Tamsen Donner's Death — Going to Get the Treasure — Suspended over a
Hidden Stream — "Where is Donner's Money?" — Extorting a Confession.
)SEBERG is one of the leading characters in the
Donner Party. Usually, his part in the tragedy has
been considered the entire story. Comparatively
few people have understood that any except this
one man ate human flesh, or was a witness of any
scene of horror. He has been loathed, execrated, abhorred
as a cannibal, a murderer, and a heartless fiend. In the
various published sketches which have from time to time
been given to the world, Lewis Keseberg has been charged
with no less than six murders. His cannibalism has been
denounced as arising from choice, as growing out of a de-
praved and perverted appetite, instead of being the result of
necessity. On the fourth of April, 1879, tms strange man
granted an interview to the author, and in this and succeed-
ing interviews he reluctantly made a statement which was
reduced to writing. " What is the use," he would urge, " of
206 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
my making a statement? People incline to believe the most
horrible reports concerning a man, and they will not credit
what I say in my own defense. My conscience is clear. I
am an old man, and am calmly awaiting my death. God is
my judge, and it long ago ceased to trouble me that people
shunned and slandered me."
Keseberg is six feet in height, is well proportioned, and
weighs from one hundred and seventy-five to one hundred
and eighty pounds. He is active, vigorous, and of an erect,
manly carriage, despite his years and his many afflictions.
He has clear blue eyes, regular features, light hair and beard,
a distinct, rapid mode of enunciation, a loud voice, and a
somewhat excited manner of speech. In conversing he
looks one squarely and steadily in the eye, and appears like
an honest, intelligent German. He speaks and writes Ger-
man, French, Spanish, and English, and his selection of
words proves him a scholar. His face generally wears a
determined, almost fierce expression, but one is impressed
with the thought that this appearance is caused by his habit-
ually standing on the defensive as against his fellow-men.
Since he has never before had an opportunity of speaking in
his own defense, it is perhaps fitting that his statement
should be given in his own language :
"My name is Lewis Keseberg. I was born in the city
of Berleburg, Province of Westphalia, in the Kingdom of
Prussia, on the twenty-second of May, 1814. I am there-
fore almost sixty-three years of age. I was married June 22,
1842, came to the United States May 22, 1844, and emigrated
to California in 1846 with the Donner Party. I never have
made a statement concerning my connection with that Party
to any one connected with the press. It is with the utmost
horror that I revert to the scenes of suffering and unutterable
misery endured during that journey. I have always en-
LEWIS KESEBERG'S STATEMENT. 207
deavored to put away from me all thoughts or recollections
of those terrible events. Time is the best physician, and
would, I trusted, heal the wounds produced by those days of
torture; yet my mind to-day recoils with undiminished
horror as I endeavor to speak of this dreadful subject.
Heretofore I have never attempted to refute the villainous
slanders which have been circulated and published about me.
I feel it my duty to make this statement, however, because I
am convinced of your willingness to do justice to all who
were concerned in that dreadful affair, and heretofore I have
been treated with gross injustice.
" If I believe in God Almighty having anything to do
with the affairs of men, I believe that the misfortune which
overtook the Donner Party, and the terrible part I was com-
pelled to take in the great tragedy, were predestined. On
the Hastings Cut-off we were twenty-eight days in going
twenty-one miles. Difficulty and disaster hovered about us
from the time we entered upon this cut-off.
"One day, while we were traveling on Goose Creek, we
saw so many wild geese that I took my shotgun and went
hunting. Ordinarily I am not superstitious, but on this morn-
ing I felt an overwhelming sense of impending calamity. I
mentioned my premonitions to Mrs. Murphy before starting
on the hunt. Becoming excited with the sport, and eagerly
watching the game, I stepped down a steep bank. Some
willows had been burned off, and the short, sharp stubs were
sticking up just where I stepped. I had on buckskin moc-
casins, and one of these stubs ran into the ball of my foot,
between the bones and the toes. From this time, until we ar-
rived at Donner Lake, I was unable to walk, or even to put
my foot to the ground. The foot became greatly swollen
and inflamed, and was exceedingly painful. One day, at
Donner Lake, one of my companions, at my earnest request,
2O8 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
lanced my foot on the top. It discharged freely, and some
days afterwards, in washing it, I found a hard substance pro-
truding from the wound, and obtaining a pair of forceps, suc-
ceeded in extracting a piece of the willow stub, one and a half
inches in length. It had literally worked up through my
foot. I mention this particularly, because I have been fre-
quently accused of remaining at the Donner cabins from
selfish or sinister motives, when in fact I was utterly unable
to join the relief parties."
It is proper to mention, in corroboration of Keseberg's
statement regarding his lameness, that several of the sur-
vivors remembered, and had related the circumstance prior
to the interview. It is a well- authenticated fact that he was
very lame, and could not walk, yet, as a specimen of the
abuse which has been heaped upon the man, a quotation is
introduced from Thornton's "Oregon and California." In
speaking of the departure of Foster and Eddy, Thornton
says: "There were in camp Mrs. Murphy, Mr. and Mrs.
George Donner, and Keseberg — the latter, it was believed,
having far more strength to travel than others who had ar-
rived in the settlements. But he would not travel, for the
reason, as was suspected, that he wished to remain behind
for the purpose of obtaining the property and money of the
dead." Keseberg's statement continues:
"When we reached the lake, we lost our road, and owing
to the depth of the snow on the mountains, were compelled
to abandon our wagons, and pack our goods upon oxen.
The cattle, unused to such burdens, caused great delay by
' bucking' and wallowing in the snow. There was also much
confusion as to what articles should be taken and what
abandoned. One wanted a box of tobacco carried along;
another, a bale of calico, and some one thing and some an-
other. But for this delay we would have passed the summit
COVERED WITH SNOW. 209
and pressed forward to California. Owing to my lameness,
I was placed on horseback, and my foot was tied up to the
saddle in a sort of sling. Near evening we were close to the
top of the dividing ridge. It was cold and chilly, and every-
body was tired with the severe exertions of the day. Some
of the emigrants sat down to rest, and declared they could
go no further. I begged them for God's sake to get over the
ridge before halting. Some one, however, set fire to a pitchy
pine tree, and the flames soon ascended to its topmost
branches. The women and children gathered about this fire
to warm themselves. Meantime the oxen were rubbing off
their packs against the trees. The weather looked very
threatening, and I exhorted them to go on until the summit
was reached. I foresaw the danger plainly and unmistakably.
Only the strongest men, however, could go ahead and break
the road, and it would have taken a determined man to in-
duce the party to leave the fire. Had I been well, and been
able to push ahead over the ridge, some, if not all, would
have followed. As it was, all lay down on the snow, and
from exhaustion were soon asleep. In the night, I felt some-
thing impeding my breath. A heavy weight seemed to be
resting upon me. Springing up to a sitting posture, I found
myself covered with freshly-fallen snow. The camp, the
cattle, my companions, had all disappeared. All I could see
was snow everywhere. I shouted at the top of my voice.
Suddenly, here and there, all about me, heads popped up
through the snow. The scene was not unlike what one
might imagine at the resurrection, when people rise up out
of the earth. The terror amounted to a panic. The mules
were lost, the cattle strayed away, and our further progress
rendered impossible. The rest you probably know. We re-
turned to the lake, and prepared, as best we could, for the
winter. I was unable to build a cabin, because of my lame-
14
210 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ness, and so erected a sort of brush shed against one side of
Breen's cabin.
" When Reed's relief party left the cabins, Mr. Reed left me
a half teacupful of flour, and about half a pound of jerked
beef. It was all he could give. Mrs. Murphy, who was left
with me, because too weak and emaciated to walk, had no
larger portion. Reed had no animosity toward me. He
found me too weak to move. He washed me, combed my
hair, and treated me kindly. Indeed, he had no cause to do
otherwise. Some of my portion of the flour brought by Stan-
ton from Sutter's Fort I gave to Reed's children, and thus
saved their lives. When he left me, he promised to return in
two weeks and carry me over the mountains. When this
party left, I was not able to stand, much less to walk.
"A heavy storm came on in a few days after the last relief
party left. Mrs. George Donner had remained with her sick
husband in their camp, six or seven miles away. Mrs. Mur-
phy lived about a week after we were left alone. When my
provisions gave out, I remained four days before I could taste
human flesh. There was no other resort — it was that or
death. My wife and child had gone on with the first relief
party. I knew not whether they were living or dead. They
were penniless and friendless in a strange land. For their
sakes I must live, if not for my own. Mrs. Murphy was too
weak to revive. The flesh of starved beings contains little
nutriment. It is like feeding straw to horses. I can not de-
scribe the unutterable repugnance with which I tasted the first
mouthful of flesh. There is an instinct in our nature that re-
volts at the thought of touching, much less eating, a corpse.
It makes my blood curdle to think of it! It has been told
that I boasted of my shame — said that I enjoyed this horrid
food, and that I remarked that human flesh was more pal-
atable than California beef. This is a falsehood. It is a
LONGINGS TOWARD SUICIDE. 211
horrible, revolting falsehood. This food was never otherwise
than loathsome, insipid, and disgusting. For nearly two
months I was alone in that dismal cabin. No one knows
what occurred but myself — no living being ever before was
told of the occurrences. Life was a burden. The horrors of
one day succeeded those of the preceding. Five of my com-
panions had died in my cabin, and their stark and ghastly
bodies lay there day and night, seemingly gazing at me with
their glazed and staring eyes. I was too weak to move them
had I tried. The relief parties had not removed them. These
parties had been too hurried, too horror-stricken at the sight,
too fearful lest an hour's delay might cause them to share
the same fate. I endured a thousand deaths. To have one's
suffering prolonged inch by inch, to be deserted, forsaken,
hopeless ; to see that loathsome food ever before my eyes,
was almost too much for human endurance. I am conversant
with four different languages. I speak and write them with
equal fluency ; yet in all four I do not find words enough to
express the horror I experienced during those two months,
or what I still feel when memory reverts to the scene. Sui-
cide would have been a relief, a happiness, a godsend! Many
a time I had the muzzle of my pistol in my mouth and my
finger on the trigger, but the faces of my helpless, dependent
wife and child would rise up before me, and my hand would
fall powerless. I was not the cause of my misfortunes, and
God Almighty had provided only this one horrible way for
me to subsist."
Did you boil the flesh ?
"Yes! But to go into details — to relate the minutiae — is
too agonizing! 1 can not do it! Imagination can supply
these. The necessary mutilation of the bodies of those who
had been my friends, rendered the ghastliness of my situation
more frightful. When I could crawl about and my lame foot
212 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
was partially recovered, I was chopping some wood one day
and the ax glanced and cut off my heel. The piece of flesh
grew back in time, but not in its former position, and my
foot is maimed to this day.
"A man, before he judges me, should be placed in a similar
situation ; but if he were, it is a thousand to one he would
perish. A constitution of steel alone could endure the depri-
vation and misery. At this time I was living in the log-cabin
with the fireplace. One night I was awakened by a scratch-
ing sound over my head. I started up in terror, and listened
intently for the noise to be repeated. It came again. It
was the wolves trying to get into the cabin to eat me and
the dead bodies.
"At midnight, one cold, bitter night, Mrs. George Donner
came to my door. It was about two weeks after Reed had
gone, and my loneliness was beginning to be unendurable.
I was most happy to hear the sound of a human voice. Her
coming was like that of an angel from heaven. But she
had not come to bear me company. Her husband had died
in her arms. She had remained by his side until death
came, and then had laid him out and hurried away. He
died at nightfall, and she had traveled over the snow alone
to my cabin. She was going, alone, across the mountains.
She was going to start without food or guide. She kept
saying, * My children ! I must see my children !' She feared
she would not survive, and told me she had. some money in
her tent. It was too heavy for her to carry. She said, ( Mr.
Keseberg, I confide this to your care.' She made me
promise sacredly that I would get the money and take it to
her children in case she perished and I survived. She de-
clared she would start over the mountains in the morning.
She said, 'I am bound to go to my children.' She seemed
very cold, and her clothes were like ice. I think she had
GOING TO GET THE TREASURE.
got in the creek in coming. She said she was very hungry,
but refused the only food I could offer. She had never eaten
the loathsome flesh. She finally lay down, and I spread
a feather-bed and some blankets over her. In the morning
she was dead. I think the hunger, the mental suffering, and
the icy chill of the preceding night, caused her death. I
have often been accused of taking her life. Before my God,
I swear this is untrue ! Do you think a man would be such
a miscreant, such a damnable fiend, such a caricature on
humanity, as to kill this lone woman? There were plenty
of corpses lying around. He would only add one more
corpse to the many !
" Oh ! the days and weeks of horror which I passed in
that camp ! I had no hope of help or of being rescued,
until I saw the green grass coming up by the spring on the
hillside, and the wild geese coming to nibble it. The birds
were coming" back to their breeding grounds, and I felt that
I could kill them for food. I had plenty of guns and am-
munition in camp. I also had plenty of tobacco and a good
meerschaum pipe, and almost the only solace I enjoyed was
smoking. In my weak condition it took me two or three
hours every day to get sufficient wood to keep my fire going.
"Some time after Mrs. Donner's death, I thought I had
gained sufficient strength to redeem the pledge I had made
her before her death. I started to go to the camps at Alder
Creek to get the money. I had a very difficult journey.
The wagons of the Donners were loaded with tobacco,
powder, caps, shoes, school-books, and dry-goods. This
stock was very valuable, and had it reached California,
would have been a fortune to the Donners. I searched care-
fully among the bales and bundles of goods, and found five
hundred and thirty-one dollars. Part of this sum was silver,
part gold. The silver I buried at the foot of a pine tree, a
214 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
little way from the camp. One of the lower branches of
another tree reached down close to the ground, and appeared
to point to the spot. I put the gold in my pocket, and
started to return to my cabin. I had spent one night at the
Donner tents.' On my return I became lost. When it was
nearly dark, in crossing a little flat, the snow suddenly gave
way under my feet, and I sank down almost to my armpits.
By means of the crust on top of the snow, I kept myself
suspended by throwing out my arms. A stream of water
flowed underneath the place over which I had been walking,
and the snow had melted on the underside until it was not
strong enough to support my weight. I could not touch
bottom with my feet, and so could form no idea of the depth
of the stream. By long and careful exertion I managed to
draw myself backward and up on the snow. I then went
around on the hillside, and continued my journey. At last,
just at dark, completely exhausted and almost dead, I came
in sight of the Graves cabin. I shall never forget my joy at
sight of that log-cabin. I felt that I was no longer lost, and
would at least have shelter. Some time after dark I reached
my own cabin. My clothes were wet by getting in the
creek, and the night was so cold that my garments were
frozen into sheets of ice. I was so weary, and chilled, and
numbed, that I did not build up a fire, or attempt to get any-
thing to eat, but rolled myself up in the bed-clothes and
tried to get warm. Nearly all night I lay there shivering
with cold ; and when L finally slept, I slept very soundly. I
did not wake up until quite late the next morning. To my
utter astonishment my camp was in the most inexplicable
confusion. My trunks were broken open, and their contents
were scattered everywhere. Everything about the cabin was
torn up and thrown about the floor. My wife's jewelry, my
cloak, my pistol and ammunition were missing. I supposed
EXTORTING A CONFESSION. 21$
Indians had robbed my camp during my absence. Suddenly
I was startled by the sound of human voices. I hurried up
to the surface of the snow, and saw white men coming
toward the cabin. I was overwhelmed with joy and grati-
tude at the prospect of my deliverance. I had suffered so
much, and for so long a time, that I could scarcely believe
my senses. Imagine my astonishment upon their arrival to
be greeted, not with a 'good morning' or a kind word, but
with the gruff, insolent demand, 'Where is Donner's money?'
" I told them they ought to give me something to eat, and
that I would talk with them afterwards, but no, they insisted
that I should tell them about Donner's money. I asked
them who they were, and where they came from, but they
replied by threatening to kill me if I did not give up the
money. They threatened to hang or shoot me, and at last I
told them I had promised Mrs. Donner that I would carry
her money to her children, and I proposed to do so, unless
shown some authority by which they had a better claim.
This so exasperated them, that they acted as though they
were going to kill me. I offered to let them bind me as a
prisoner, and take me before the alcalde at Sutter's Fort, and
I promised that I would then tell all I knew about the money.
They would listen to nothing, however, and finally I told
them where they would find the silver buried, and gave them
the gold. After I had done this, they showed me a document
from Alcalde Sinclair, by which they were to receive a certain
proportion of all moneys and property which they rescued."
The men spoken of by Keseberg, were the fourth relief
party. Their names were, Captain Fallen, William M. Fos-
ter, John Rhodes, J. Foster, R. P. Tucker, E. Coffeemire, and
— Keyser. William M. Foster had recrossecl the mount-
ains the second time, hoping to rescue his wife's mother,
Mrs. Murphy. Alas! he found only her mutilated remains.
CHAPTER XX.
Dates of the Rescues — Arrival of the Fourth Relief — A Scene Beggaring De-
scription— The Wealth of the Donners — An Appeal to the Highest Court
— A Dreadful Shock — Saved from a Grizzly Bear — A Trial for Slander —
Keseberg Vindicated — Two Kettles of Human Blood — The Enmity of the
Relief Party— "Born under an Evil Star"— "Stone Him! Stone Him!"—
Fire and Flood — Keseberg's Reputation for Honesty — A Prisoner in his
own House — The Most Miserable of Men.
DECEMBER 16, 1846, the fifteen composing the "For-
lorn Hope," left Donner Lake. January 17, 1847,
they reached Johnson's ranch; and February 5th
Capt. Tucker's party started to the assistance of the
emigrants. This first relief arrived February iQth at
the cabins; the second relief, or Reed's party, arrived March
ist; the third, or Foster's, about the middle of March; and
the fourth, or Fallen's, on the seventeenth of April. Upon
the arrival of Capt. Fallon's company, the sight presented at
the cabins beggars all description. Capt. R. P. Tucker, now
of Goleta, Santa Barbara County, Cal., endeavors, in his cor-
respondence, to give a slight idea of the scene. Human
bodies, terribly mutilated, legs, arms, skulls, and portions of
remains, were scattered in every direction and strewn about
the camp. Mr. Foster found Mrs. Murphy's body with one
THE WEALTH OF THE DONNERS.
of her limbs sawed off, the saw still lying by her remains.
It was such scenes as these which gave this party their first
abhorrence for Keseberg. The man was nowhere to be seen,
but a fresh track was discovered in the snow leading away
from the cabins toward the Donner tents. The party pressed
forward to Alder Creek. Captain Tucker writes : " The dead
bodies lay moldering around, being all that was left to tell
the tale of sorrow. On my first trip we had cut down a large
pine tree, and laid the goods of the Donners on this tree to
dry in the sun. These goods lay there yet, with the excep-
tion of those which Reed's party had taken away."
George Donner was wealthy. His wealth consisted not
merely of goods, as many claim, but of a large amount of
coin. Hiram Miller, of the relief parties, is authority for
the statement that Mr. Donner owned a quarter section of
land within the present city limits of Chicago. This land
was sold for ten thousand dollars, shortly before Mr. Don-
ner started for California. Mr. Allen Francis, who has been
mentioned as the very best authority concerning this family,
camped with them on the evening of their first night's jour-
ney out of Springfield, Illinois, saw Mr. Donner's money,
and thinks there was ten thousand dollars. Mrs. F. E. Bond,
of Elk Grove, Sacramento County, California, does not re-
member the exact amount, but knows that Mr. Donner
started with a great deal of gold, because she helped make
the belts in which it was to be carried in crossing the plains.
The relief parties always understood there was at Donner's
camp a large sum of money, estimated at from six to four-
teen thousand dollars. It is not disputed that Halloran left
about fifteen hundred dollars to this family. Yet Capt. Fal-
lon's party could find no money. It was clear to their minds
that some one had robbed the Donner tents.
Remaining over night, thoroughly searching in every place
2l8 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
where the supposed money could be concealed, this party re-
turned to Donner Lake. On their way they found the same
mysterious track, also returning to the cabins. They prob-
ably discovered Keseberg in about the manner described. It
is plain to be seen that they regarded him as the murderer
of Mrs. Donner. In forcing him to tell what he had done
with the money, they, too, claim to have choked him, to
have put a rope around his neck, and to have threatened to
hang him. On the other hand, if Keseberg's statement be
accepted as truth, it is easy to understand why he refused to
surrender the money to men who treated him from the outset
as a murderer and a robber.
Let the God to whom Lewis Keseberg appeals be his judge.
It is not the part of this book to condemn or acquit him.
Most of the fourth relief party have already gone before the
bar at which Keseberg asks to be tried. Capt. Tucker is
about the only available witness, and his testimony is far
more lenient than the rumors and falsehoods usually pub-
lished.
If Keseberg be guilty of any or of all crimes, it will pres-
ently be seen that the most revengeful being on earth could
not ask that another drop be added to his cup of bitterness.
His statement continues :
"These men treated me with the greatest unkindness. Mr.
Tucker was the only one who took my part or befriended
me. When they started over the mountains, each man car-
ried two bales of goods. They had silks, calicoes, and de-
laines from the Donners, and other articles of great value.
Each man would carry one bundle a little way, lay it down,
and come back and get the other bundle. In this way they
passed over the snow three times. I could not keep up with
them because I was so weak, but managed to come up to
their camp every night. One day I was dragging myself
A TRIAL FOR SLANDER."
slowly along behind the party, when I came to a place which
had evidently been used as a camping-ground by some of
the previous parties. Feeling very tired, I thought it would
be a good place to make some coffee. Kindling a fire, I filled
my coffee-pot with fresh snow and sat waiting for it to melt
and get hot. Happening to cast my eyes carelessly around,
I discovered a little piece of calico protruding from the snow.
Half thoughtlessly, half out of idle curiosity, I caught hold
of the cloth, and finding it did not come readily, I gave it a
strong pull. I had in my hands the body of my dead child
Ada! She had been buried in the snow, which, melting
down, had disclosed a portion of her clothing. I thought I
should go frantic! It was the first intimation I had of her
death, and it came with such a shock!
"Just as we were getting out of the snow, I happened to
be sitting in camp alone one afternoon. The men were hunt-
ing, or attending to their goods. I was congratulating my-
self upon my escape from the mountains, when I was startled
by a snuffling, growling noise, and looking up, I saw a large
grizzly bear only a few feet away. I knew I was too weak to
attempt to escape, and so remained where I sat, expecting
every moment he would devour me. Suddenly there was the
report of a gun, and the bear fell dead. Mr. Foster had dis-
covered the animal, and slipping up close to camp, had
killed it."
When the party arrived at Sutter's Fort, they took no pains
to conceal their feelings toward Keseberg. Some of the men
openly accused him of Mrs. Donner's murder. Keseberg, at
the suggestion of Captain Sutter, brought action against Cap-
tain Fallen, Ned Coffeemire, and the others, for slander. The
case was tried before Alcalde Sinclair, and the. jury gave
Keseberg a verdict of one dollar damages. The old alcalde
records are not in existence, but some of the survivors
22O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
remember the circumstance, and Mrs. Samuel Kyburz, now
of Clarksville, El Dorado County, was a witness at the trial.
If Keseberg was able to vindicate himself in an action for
slander against the evidence of all the party, it is clear that
such evidence was not adduced as has frequently appeared in
books. For instance, in Captain Fallen's report of this trip,
he alleges that "in the cabin with Keseberg were found two
kettles of human blood, in all supposed to be over one gal-
lon." Had this been proven, no jury would have found for
Keseberg. Fresh blood could not have been obtained from
starved bodies, and had the blood been found, Keseberg
would have been adjudged a murderer.
Speaking upon this point, Keseberg denies the assertion
that any blood was discovered, calls attention to the length
of time Mrs. Donner had been dead, to the readiness with
which blood coagulates, and adds that not a witness testified
to such a circumstance at the trial. Why should Keseberg
murder Mrs. Donner ? If he wanted her money, it was only
necessary to allow her to go out into the mountains alone,
without provisions, without any one to point out the way,
and perish in the trackless snows. She could not carry any
considerable portion of her money with her, and he had only
to go back to Alder Creek and secure the treasure. He bears
witness that she never tasted human flesh; that she would
not partake of the food he offered; how reasonable, then, the
story of her death. The fourth relief party expected to find
a vast sum of money. One half was to be given them for
their trouble. They regarded the man Keseberg as the mur-
derer of George Foster, because of the reports given by the
little children brought out by the third relief. The father of
this child was with both the third and fourth reliefs. Arriv-
ing at the cabins, they were amazed and horrified at the
dreadful sights. Hastening to the tents, they found no
LEWIS KESEBERG.
1879.
"STONE HIM! STONE HIM!" 221
money. Their idea that Keseberg was a thief was confirmed
by his disgorging the money when threatened with death.
There was much reason for their hatred of the man who
crossed the mountains with them, and this was intensified by
their being brought before Alcalde Sinclair and proven slan-
derers. Out of this hatred has grown reports which time
has magnified into the hideous falsehoods which greet the
ear from all directions. Keseberg may be responsible for the
death of Hardcoop, but urges in his defense that all were
walking, even to the women and the children. He says
Hardcoop was not missed until evening, and that it was sup-
posed the old man would catch up with the train during the
night. The terrible dangers surrounding the company, the
extreme lateness of the season, the weakness of the oxen,
and the constant fear of lurking, hostile Indians, prevented
him or any one else from going back. Keseberg may be re-
sponsible for the death of Wolfinger, of George Foster, of
James Eddy, of Mrs. Murphy, and of Mrs. Tamsen Donner,
but the most careful searcher for evidence can not find the
slightest trace of proofs. In his own mournful language, he
comes near the truth when he says :
"I have been born under an evil star! Fate, misfortune,
bad luck, compelled me to remain at Donner Lake. If God
would decree that I should again pass through such an or-
deal, I could not do otherwise than I did. My conscience is
free from reproach. Yet that camp has been the one burden
of my life. Wherever I have gone, people have cried, ' Stone
him! stone him!' Even the little children in the streets have
mocked me and thrown stones at me as I passed. Only a
man conscious of his innocence, and clear in the sight of
God, would not have succumbed to the terrible things which
have been said of me — would not have committed suicide!
Mortification, disgrace, disaster, and unheard-of misfortune
222 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
have followed and overwhelmed me. I often think that the
Almighty has singled me out, among all the men on the face
of the earth, in order to see how much hardship, suffering,
and misery a human being can bear!
" Soon after my arrival at the Fort, I took charge of the
schooner Sacramento, and conveyed wheat from Sacramento
to San Francisco, in payment of Capt. Sutter's purchase of
the Russian possessions. I worked seven months for Sutter;
but, although he was kind to me, I did not get my money.
I then went to Sonoma, and worked about the same length
of time for Gen. Vallejo. I had a good position and good
prospects, but left for the gold mines. Soon afterward I was
taken sick, and for eight months was an invalid. I then
went to Sutter's Fort and started a boarding-house. I made
money rapidly. After a time I built a house south of the
Fort, which cost ten thousand dollars. In 1851 I purchased
the Lady Adams hotel, in Sacramento. It was a valuable
property, and I finally sold it at auction for a large sum of
money. This money was to be paid the next day. The
deeds had already passed. That night the terrible fire of
1852 occurred, and not only swept away the hotel, but ruined
the purchaser, so that I could not collect one cent. I went
back to Sutter's Fort and started the Phoenix Brewery. I
succeeded, and acquired considerable property. I finally sold
out for fifty thousand dollars. I had concluded to take this
money, go back to Germany, and live quietly the rest of my
days. The purchaser went to San Francisco to draw the
money. The sale was effected eight days before the great
flood of 1 861-2. The flood came, and I lost everything."
Thus, throughout his entire career, have business reverses
followed Lewis Keseberg. Several times he has been wealthy
and honorably situated. At one time he was a partner of
Sam. Brannan, in a mammoth distillery at Calistoga; and
THE MOST MISERABLE OF MEN. 223
Mr. Brannan is one among .many who speak in highest
terms of his honesty, integrity, and business capacity. On
the thirtieth of January, 1877, Phillipine Keseberg, his faithful
wife, died. This was the severest loss of all, as will pres-
ently be seen-
Eleven children were born to them, and four are now living.
One of these, Lillie, now lives in Sacramento with her hus-
band. Another, Paulina, a widow, resides in San Rafael.
Bertha and Augusta live with the father at Brighton, Sacra-
mento County. Both these children are hopelessly idiotic.
Bertha is twenty-six years of age, and has never uttered an
intelligible word. Augusta is fifteen years old, weighs two
hundred and five pounds, and possesses only slight traces of
intelligence. Teething spasms, occurring when they were
about two years old, is the cause of their idiocy. Both are
subject to frequent and violent spasms or epileptic fits. They
need constant care and attention. Should Bertha's hand fall
into the fire, she has not sufficient intelligence to withdraw it
from the flames. Both are helpless as children. The State
provides for insane, but not for idiots. Keseberg says a bill
setting aside a ward in the State Asylum for his two children,
passed the Legislature, but received a pocket veto by the
Governor. Sacramento County gives them eighteen dollars
a month. Their helplessness and violence render it impos-
sible to keep any nurse in charge of them longer than a few
days. Keseberg is very poor. He has employment for per-
haps three months during the year. While his wife lived,
she took care of these children; but now he has personally to
watch over them and provide for their necessities. While at
work, he is compelled to keep them locked in a room in the
same building. They scream so loudly while going into the
spasms that he can not dwell near other people. He there-
fore lives isolated, in a plain little house back of his
224
HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
brewery. Here he lives, the saddest, loneliest, most pitiable
creature on the face of the earth. He traces all his misfor-
tunes to that cabin on Donner Lake, and it is little wonder
that he says: " I beg of you, insert in your book a fervent
prayer to Almighty God that He will forever prevent the re-
currence of a similar scene of horror."
CHAPTER XXI.
Sketch of Gen. John A. Sutter — The Donner Party's Benefactor — The Least
and Most that Earth can Bestow — The Survivors' Request — His Birth and
Parentage — Efforts to Reach California — New Helvetia — A Puny Army —
Uninviting Isolation — Ross and Bodega — Unbounded Generosity — Suiter's
Wealth— Effect of the Gold Fever— Wholesale Robbery— The Sobrante
Decision — A "Genuine and Meritorious" Grant — Utter Ruin — Hock Farm
—Gen. Sutler's Death— Mrs. E. P. Houghton's Tribute.
JEALOUS in sending supplies and relief to the suffer-
ing Donner Party, earnest in providing shelter,
clothing, and food to all who were rescued, Captain
John A. Sutter merits more than a passing mention
in this history. From the arrival of Stanton at
Sutter's Fort with the tidings that a destitute emigrant train
was en route for California until the return of the fourth relief
party with Lewis Keseberg, Captain Sutter's time, wealth, and
influence were enlisted in behalf of the party. Actuated only
by motives of benevolence and humanity, he gave Stanton
and the various relief parties full and free access to whatever
he possessed, whether of money, provisions, clothing, mules,
cattle, or guides. With all due deference to the generosity
of Yerba Buena's citizens, and to the heroic endeavors of
the noble men who risked their lives in rescuing the starving
emigrants, it is but just and right that this warm-hearted
15
226 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
philanthropist should be accorded the honor of being first
among the benefactors of the Donner Party. His kindness
did not cease with the arrival of the half-starved survivors at
Sutter's Fort, but continued until all had found places of
employment, and means of subsistance. Pitiful and un-
worthy is the reward which history can bestow upon such
a noble character, yet since he never received any remunera-
tion for his efforts and sacrifices, the reward of a noble name
is the least and the most that earth can now bestow. In
view of his good deeds, the survivors of the Donner Party
have almost unanimously requested that a brief biographical
sketch of the man be inserted in these pages.
At midnight on the twenty-eighth of February (or first of
March), 1803, John A. Sutter was born in the city of Baden.
He was of Swiss parentage, and his father and mother were
of the Canton Berne. Educated in Baden, we find him at
the age of thirty a captain in the French army. Filled with
enthusiasm, energy, and love of adventure, his eyes turned
toward America as his "land of promise," and in July, 1834,
he arrived in New York. Again breaking away from the
restraints of civilized life, he soon made his way to the then
almost unknown regions west of 'the Mississippi. For some
years he lived near St. Charles, in Missouri. At one time he
entertained the idea of establishing a Swiss colony at this
point, and was only prevented by the sinking of his vessel
of supplies in the Mississippi River. During this time he
accompanied an exploring party into the sultry, sand-covered
wastes of New Mexico. Here he met hunters and trappers
from California, and listened to tales of its beauty, fertility,
and grandeur which awoke irresistible longings in his breast.
In March, 1838, with Captain Tripp, of the American Fur
Company, he traveled westward as far as the Rocky Mount-
ains, and thence journeying with a small party of trappers,
THE DONNER PARTY'S BENEFACTOR. 22/
finally reached Fort Vancouver. Finding no land route to
California, he embarked in a vessel belonging to the Hudson
Bay Company, which was ready for a voyage to the Sand-
wich Islands. From Honolulu he thought there would be
little difficulty in finding passage in a trading vessel for the
Coast of California. Disappointed in this, he remained at
the Islands some months, and finally shipped as supercargo
of a ship bound for Sitka. In returning, the vessel entered
the Bay of San Francisco, but was not allowed to land, and
Monterey was reached before Sutter was permitted to set
foot upon California soil. From Governor Alvarado he ob-
tained the right of settling in the Sacramento Valley. After
exploring the Sacramento, Feather, and American Rivers,
finally, on the sixteenth of August, 1839, he landed near the
present site of Sacramento City, and determined to perma-
nently locate. Soon afterward he began the construction
of the famous Sutter's Fort. He took possession of the
surrounding country, naming it New Helvetia. One of the
first difficulties to be overcome was the hostility of the Indian
tribes who inhabited the Sacramento and San Joaquin
valleys. Kindness and humane treatment were generally
sufficient to cause these Indians to become his allies, yet in
more than one instance he was obliged to resort to arms.
Considering the size of his army, there is a sort of grim
heroism in the fact that he successfully waged at times a
defensive and at times an aggressive warfare. His entire
army was composed of six white men, who had been col-
lected from different parts of the world, and eight Kanakas.
Dunbar, in describing Sutter's situation, says: "This por-
tion of upper California, though fair to look upon, was pecul-
iarly solitary and uninviting in its isolation and remoteness
from civilization. There was not even one of those cattle
ranches, which dotted the coast at long intervals, nearer to Sut-
228 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ter's locality than Suisun and Martinez, below the mouth of the
Sacramento. The Indians of the Sacramento were known as
' Diggers.' The efforts of the Jesuit Fathers, so extensive on
this continent, and so beneficial to the wild Indians wherever
missions were established among them, never reached the
wretched aborigines of the Sacramento country. The valley
of the Sacramento had not yet become the pathway of emi-
grants from the East, and no civilized human being lived in
this primitive and solitary region, or roamed over it, if we
except a few trappers of the Hudson Bay Company."
Out of this solitude and isolation, Sutter, as if with a ma-
gician's wand, brought forth wealth and evolved for himself a
veritable little kingdom. Near the close of the year 1839,
eight white men joined his colony, and in 1840 his numbers
were increased by five others. About this time the Mokel-
umne Indians became troublesome, and were conquered.
Other tribes were forced into submission, and Sutter was
practically monarch of the Sacramento and San Joaquin.
The old pioneers speak with pride of the wonderful power he
exerted over these Indians, teaching them the arts of civiliza-
tion, forming them into military companies, drilling them in
the use of fire-arms, teaching them to till the soil, and making
them familiar with the rudiments of husbandry. The vast
herds of cattle which in process of time he acquired, were
tended and herded principally by these Indians, and the can-
non which ultimately came into his possession were mounted
upon the Fort, and in many instances were manned by these
aborigines. Hides were sent to Yerba Buena, a trade in furs
and supplies was established with the Hudson Bay Company,
and considerable attention was given to mechanical and agri- \
cultural pursuits.
In 1841, Sutter obtained grants from Governor Alvarado of
the eleven leagues of land comprised in his New Helvetia,
EFFORTS TO REACH CALIFORNIA. 229
and soon afterwards negotiated a purchase of the Russian
possessions known as "Ross and Bodega." By this pur-
chase, Sutter acquired vast real and personal property, the
latter including two thousand cattle, one thousand horses,
fifty mules, and two thousand five hundred sheep. In 1845
Sutter acquired from Gov. Manuel Micheltorena the grant of
the famous Sobrante, which comprised the surplus lands over
the first eleven leagues included within the survey accompa-
nying the Alvarado grant.
As early as 1844 a great tide of emigration began flow-
ing from the Eastern States toward California, a tide which,
after the discovery of gold, became a deluge. Sutter's Fort
became the great terminal point of emigration, and was
far-famed for the generosity and open-heartedness of its
owner. Relief and assistance were rendered so frequently
and so abundantly to distressed emigrants, and aid and
succor were so often sent over the Sierra to feeble or dis-
abled trains, that Sutter's charity and generosity became
proverbial. In the sunny hillslopes and smiling valleys,
amidst the graceful groves and pleasant vineyards of this
Golden State, it would be difficult to find localities where
pioneers have not taught their children to love and bless
the memory of the great benefactor of the pioneer days,
John A. Sutter. With his commanding presence, his smil-
ing face, his wealth, his power, and his liberality, he came
to be regarded in those days as a very king among men.
What he did for the Donner Party is but an instance of
his unvarying kindness toward the needy and distressed.
During this time he rendered important services to the United
States, and notably in 1841, to the exploring expedition of
Admiral Wilkes. The Peacock, a vessel belonging to the ex-
pedition, was lost on the Columbia bar, and a part of the
expedition forces, sent overland in consequence, reached Sut-
23O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
ter's Fort in a condition of extreme distress, and were relieved
with princely hospitality. Later on he gave equally needed and
equally generous relief to Colonel Fremont and his exploring
party. When the war with Mexico came on, his aid and sym-
pathy enabled Fremont to form a battalion from among those
in Sutter's employ, and General Sherman's testimony is, "that
to him (Sutter) more than any single person are we indebted
for the conquest of California with all its treasures."
In .1848, when gold was discovered at Sutter's Mill, near
Coloma, quoting again from Dunbar: "We find that Captain
Sutter was the undisputed possessor of almost boundless
tracts of land, including the former Russian possessions of
Ross and Bodega, and the site of the present city of Sacra-
mento. He had performed all the conditions of his land
grants, built his fort, and completed many costly improve-
ments. At an expense of twenty-five thousand dollars he
had cut a mill-race three miles long, and nearly finished a
new flouring mill. He had expended ten thousand dollars in
the erection of a saw-mill near Coloma ; one thousand acres
of virgin soil were laid down to wheat, promising a yield of
forty thousand bushels, and extensive preparations had been
made for other crops. He owned eight thousand cattle, two
thousand horses and mules, two thousand sheep, and one
thousand swine. He was the . military commander of the
district, Indian agent of the territory, and Alcalde by ap-
pointment of Commodore Stockton. Respected and honored
by all, he was the great man of the country."
Subsequently he was a member of the Constitutional Con-
vention at Monterey, and was appointed Major General of
militia. Would that the sketch of his life might end here;
but, alas! there is a sad, sad closing to the chapter. This
can not be told more briefly and eloquently than in the lan-
guage of the writer already mentioned:
WHOLESALE ROBBERY. 231
"As soon as the discovery of gold was known, he was
immediately deserted by all his mechanics and laborers,
white, Kanaka, and Indian. The mills were abandoned,
and became a dead loss. Labor could not be hired to
plant, to mature the crops, or reap and gather the grain that
ripened.
" At an early period subsequent to the discovery, an im-
mense emigration from overland poured into the Sacramento
Valley, making Sutter's domains their camping-ground, with-
out the least regard for the rights of property. They occu-
pied his cultivated fields, and squatted all over his available
lands, saying these were the unappropriated domain of the
United States, to which they had as good a right as any one.
They stole and drove off his horses and mules, and ex-
changed or sold them in other parts of the country; they
butchered his cattle, sheep, and hogs, and sold the meat.
One party of five men, during the flood of 1849-50, when
the cattle were surrounded by water, near the Sacramento
river, killed and sold $60,000 worth of these — as it was esti-
mated— and left for the States. By the first of January,
1852, the so-called settlers, under pretense of pre-emption
claims, had appropriated all Sutter's lands capable of settle-
ment or appropriation, and had stolen all of his horses,
mules, cattle, sheep, and hogs, except a small portion used
and sold by himself.
" There was no law to prevent this stupendous robbery;
but when law was established, then came lawyers with it
to advocate the squatters' pretensions, although there were
none from any part of Christendom who had not heard of
Sutter's grants, the peaceful and just possession of which he
had enjoyed for ten years, and his improvements were visible
to all.
"Sutter's efforts to maintain his rights, and save even
232 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
enough of his property to give him an economical, comfort-
able living, constitute a sad history, one that would of itself
filll a volume of painful interest. In these efforts he became
involved in continuous and expensive litigation, which was not
terminated till the final decision of the Supreme Court in
1858-59, a period of ten years. When the United States
Court of Land Commissioners was organized in California,
Sutter's grants came up in due course for confirmation.
These were the grant of eleven leagues, known as New Hel-
vetia, and the grant of twenty-two leagues, known as the
Sobrante. The land commissioners found these grants per-
fect. Not a flaw or defect could be discovered in either of
them, and they were confirmed by the board, under the pro-
visions of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.
" The squatter interest then appealed to the United States
District Court for the Northern District of California. This
court confirmed the decision of the land commissioners.
Extraordinary as it may appear, the squatter interest then
appealed both cases to the Supreme Court of the United
States at Washington, and still more extraordinary to relate,
that court, though it confirmed the eleven-league grant, de-
cided that of the Sobrante — twenty-two leagues — in favor of
the squatters. The court acknowledged that the grant was a
" genuine and meritorious " one, and then decided in favor of
the squatter interest on purely technical grounds.
" Sutter's ruin was complete, and its method may be thus
stated: He had been subjected to a very great outlay of
money in the maintenance of his title, the occupancy and the
improvement of the grant of New Helvetia. From a mass
of interesting documents which I have been permitted to
examine, I obtained the following statement relative to the
expenses incurred on that grant :
HOCK FARM. 233
Expenses in money, and services which formed the original considera-
tion of the grant $50,000
Surveys and taxes on the same 50,000
Cost of litigation extending through ten years, including fees to eminent
counsel, witness fees, traveling expenses, etc 125,000
Amount paid out to make good the covenants of deeds upon the grant,
over and above what was received from sales 100,000
$325,000
" In addition, General Sutter had given titles to much of
the Sobrante grant, under deeds of general warranty, which,
after the decision of the supreme court of the United States
in favor of the squatter interest, Sutter was obliged to make
good, at an immense sacrifice, out of the New Helvetia grant ;
so that the confirmation of his title to this grant was com-
paratively of little advantage to him. Thus Sutter lost all his
landed estate.
" But amid the wreck and ruin that came upon him in
cumulative degree, from year to year, Sutter managed to save,
for a period, what is known as Hock farm, a very extensive
and valuable estate on the Feather River. This estate he
proposed to secure as a resting-place in his old age, and for
the separate benefit of his wife and children, whom he had
brought from Switzerland in 1852, having been separated
from them eighteen years. Sutter's titles being generally
discredited, his vast flocks and herds having dwindled to a
few head, and his resources being all gone, he was no longer
able to hire labor to work the farm ; and as a final catastro-
phe, the farm mansion was totally destroyed by fire in 1865,
and with it all General Sutter's valuable records of his pioneer
life." As difficulties augmented, Hock farm became incum-
bered with mortgages, and ultimately it was swallowed up in
the general ruin.
For some years he received a small allowance from the
State of California; but after a time this appropriation expired,
234 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
and was never thereafter renewed. The later years of the
pioneer's life were passed at Litiz, Lancaster County, Penn-
sylvania, and his time was devoted to endeavoring to obtain
from Congress an appropriation of $50,000, as compensation
for the expenditures he made for the relief of the early set-
tlers of California. His death occurred at Washington, D.
C., on the eighteenth day of June, 1880, and his remains were
laid at rest in Litiz, Pennsylvania. The termination of this
grand, heroic life, under circumstances of abject poverty and
destitution, forms as strange and mournful a story as can be
found in the annals of the present age.
In concluding this chapter, it may not be inappropriate to
quote from a private letter written by Mrs. S. O. Houghton,
nte Eliza P. Donner, immediately after the General's death.
It aptly illustrates the feeling entertained toward him by the
members of the Donner Party. Writing from San Jose, she
says:
" I have been sad, oh ! so sad, since tidings flashed across
the continent telling the friends of General Sutter to mourn
his loss. In tender and loving thought I have followed the
remains to his home, have stood by his bier, touched his icy
brow, and brushed back his snowy locks, and still it is hard
for me to realize that he.is dead ; that he who in my childhood
became my ideal of all that is generous, noble, and good ; he
who has ever awakened the warmest gratitude of my nature,
is to be laid away in a distant land ! But I must not yield to
this mood longer. God has only harvested the ripe and
golden grain. Nor has He left us comfortless, for recollec- N
tion, memory's faithful messenger, will bring from her treas-
ury records of deeds so noble, that the name of General
Sutter will be stamped in the hearts of all people, so long as
California has a history. Yes, his name will be written in
letters of sunlight on Sierra's snowy mountain sides, will be
MRS. E. P. HOUGHTON S TRIBUTE.
235
traced on the clasps of gold which rivet the rocks of our
State, and will be arched in transparent characters over the
gate which guards our western tide. All who see this land
of the sunset will read, and know, and love the name of John
A. Sutter, who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and com-
forted the sorrowing children of California's pioneer days."
CHAPTER XXII.
The Death List— The Forty-two Who Perished— Names of Those Saved—
Forty-eight Survivors — Traversing Snow-Belt Five Times — Burying the
Dead — An Appalling Spectacle — Tamsen Donner's Last Act of Devotion —
A Remarkable Proposal — Twenty-six Present Survivors — McCutchen —
Keseberg— The Graves Family— The Murphys— Naming Marysville— The
Reeds— The Breens.
&ITH the arrival of the emigrants at places of safety,
this history properly closes. The members of the
Donner Party were actively and intimately associ-
ated with all the early pioneer history of the State.
The life of almost every one would furnish founda-
tion for a most interesting biographical sketch. Ninety
names were mentioned in the first chapter. Of these, forty-
two perished. Mrs. Sarah Keyes, Halloran, John Snyder,
Hardcoop, Wolfinger and William M. Pike did not live to
reach the mountain camps. The first victim of starvation,
Baylis Williams, died in the Reed cabin. About this time
Jacob Donner, Samuel Shoemaker, Joseph Rhinehart and
James Smith perished at Alder Creek. The five deaths last
mentioned occurred within one week, about the middle of
December. During the journey of the "Forlorn Hope,"
the fifteen were reduced to seven by the deaths of C. T.
FORTY-EIGHT SURVIVORS. 237
Stanton, F. W. Graves, Antoine, Patrick Dolan, Lemuel
Murphy, Jay Fosdick, Lewis, and Salvador. Meantime, en-
rolled on the death-list at Donner Lake, were the names of
Charles Burger, Lewis Keseberg, Jr., John Landrum Murphy,
Margaret Eddy, Harriet McCutchen, Augustus Spitzer, Mrs.
Eleanor Eddy, Milton Elliott, and Catherine Pike.
During the journey of the first relief party, Ada Keseberg,
John Denton, and William Hook perished, and with the
second relief party died Mrs. Elizabeth Graves, Isaac Donner,
and F. W. Graves, Jr. About this time, at the tents, died
Lewis Donner, Mrs. Elizabeth Donner, and Samuel Donner,
George Foster and James Eddy. No deaths occurred in the
party of the third relief, and no names are to be added to
the fatal list save Mrs. Lavina Murphy, George Donner, and
Mrs. Tamsen Donner.
Out of the Donner Party, forty-eight survived. Walter
Herron reached California with James F. Reed, and did not
return. Of the "Forlorn Hope," Mary A. Graves, Mrs.
Sarah Fosdick, Mrs. Amanda M. McCutchen, Mrs. Harriet
F. Pike, Mrs. S. A. C. Foster, William M. Foster, and W. H.
Eddy lived. The two last mentioned returned and again
braved the dangers which encompassed the emigrants. The
first relief party rescued Mrs. Margaret W. Reed, Virginia E.
Reed and James F. Reed, Jr., Elitha C. Donner, Leanna C.
Donner, George Donner, Jr., Wm. G. Murphy, Mary M.
Murphy, Naomi L. Pike, W. C. Graves, Eleanor Graves,
Lovina Graves, Mrs. Phillipine Keseberg, Edward J. Breen,
Simon P. Breen, Eliza Williams, Noah James, and Mrs.
Wolfinger.
The second relief succeeded in reaching the settlements
with only Solomon Hook, Patty Reed, and Thomas K. Reed.
With this party were its Captain, James F.Reed, and William
McCutchen. Those who were brought to Starved Camp by
238 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
the second relief, and saved by a portion of the third relief,
were Patrick Breen, Mrs. Margaret Breen, John Breen, Pat-
rick Breen, Jr., James F. Breen, Peter Breen, Isabella M.
Breen, Nancy Graves, Jonathan Graves, Elizabeth Graves,
and Mary M. Donner. The remainder of the third relief
j-escued Simon P. Murphy, Frances E. Donner, Georgia A.
Donner, Eliza P. Donner, and John Baptiste. W. H. Eddy
remained in the valleys after making this journey. Wm. M.
Foster traversed the snow-belt no less than five times — once
with the " Forlorn Hope," twice with the third relief, and
twice with the fourth. The fourth relief rescued Lewis
Keseberg.
General Kearney visited the cabins at Donner Lake on the
twenty-second of June, 1847. Edwin Bryant, the author of
" What I Saw in California," was with General Kearney, and
says: " A halt was ordered for the purpose of collecting and
interring the remains. Near the principal cabins I saw two
bodies entire, with the exception that the abdomens had been
cut open and the entrails extracted. Their flesh had been
either wasted by famine or evaporated by exposure to the dry
atmosphere, and they presented the appearance of mummies.
Strewn around the cabins were dislocated and broken skulls
(in some instances sawed asunder with care, for the purpose
of extracting the brains), human skeletons, in short, in every
variety of mutilation. A more revolting and appalling spec-
tacle I never witnessed. The remains were, by an order of
General Kearney, collected and buried under the superin-
tendence of Major Swords. They were interred in a pit
which had been dug in the center of one of the cabins for a
cache. These melancholy duties to the dead being per-
formed, the cabins, by order of Major Swords, were fired,
and with everything surrounding them connected with this
horrid and melancholy tragedy were consumed. The body
THE GRAVES FAMILY. 239
of George Donner was found at his camp, about eight or ten
miles distant, wrapped in a sheet. He was buried by a party
of men detailed for that purpose."
To carefully lay out her husband's body, and tenderly en-
fold it in a winding-sheet, was the last act of devotion to her
husband which was performed by Tamsen Donner.
With varying incidents and episodes, the immigrants all
reached Sutter's Fort. One very attractive young lady re-
ceived a proposal of marriage while doing her best to man-
age the rebellious mule on which she was riding. The
would-be lover pleaded his case well, considering the adverse
circumstances, but the young lady gave not her consent.
Twenty-six, and possibly twenty-eight, out of the forty-
eight survivors, are living to-day. Noah James is believed
to be alive, and John Baptiste was living only a short time
since, at Ukiah, Mendocino County, California. Besides
these two, there are twenty-six whose residences are known.
William McCutchen, who came from Jackson County, Mis-
souri, is hale and strong, and is a highly-respected resident
of San Jose, California. Mr. McCutchen is a native of Nash-
ville, Tennessee, was about thirty years old at the time of the
disaster, and has a clear, correct recollection of all that trans-
pired. Lewis Keseberg's history has been pretty fully out-
lined in his statement. He resides in Brighton, Sacramento
County, California.
In May, 1847, Mary A. Graves married Edward Pile. He
was murdered by a Spaniard in 1848, and this Spaniard was
the first person hanged in California under the laws of the
United States. In 1851 or 1852 Mrs. Pile married J, T.
Clarke. Their children are: Robert F., born in 1852, who is
married and living at White River, Tulare County Cal.; Mat-
tie, born in 1854, and now the wife of P. Bequette, Jr., of
Visalia; James Thomas, born in 1857; an infant, who died
24O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
soon after birth; Belle, born in 1860, and died in 1871; Alex-
ander R., born in 1865, and Daniel M., born in 1872. Mrs.
M. A. Clarke's address is White River, Tulare County, Cali-
fornia.
Eleanor Graves married William McDonnell about the first
of September, 1849. Their children are: Ann, born Septem-
ber, 1850; Charles, born in 1852; Mary, born in 1855, mar-
ried to Lester Green, January 2, 1878, and now living on the
Sacramento River, about seventeen miles below the city;
Lillie, born April 14, 1857, died in February, 1873; Frank-
lin, born in 1860, died in March, 1873; Henry, born July,
1864; Eleanor, born July, 1868; Leslie, born October, 1872,
died March, 1873; Louisa, born in 1878. Mrs. Eleanor Mc-
Donnell and family reside in Knights Valley, Sonoma
County. Their address is Calistoga, California.
Lovina Graves married John Cyrus June 5, 1356. Their
children are: Henry E., born April 12, 1859; James W.,
born February 16, 1861; Mary A., born April 26, 1863;
Sarah Grace, born December u, 1866; and Rachel E.,
born January 27, 1873. Their address is Calistoga.
Nancy Graves married Rev. R. W. Williamson in 1855.
Their eldest, George, is an artist in Virginia City; Emily is
teaching school in Knights Valley; Kate, Frederick, and
Lydia Pearl are residing with their parents at Los Gatos,
Santa Clara County, Cal.
W'illiam C. Graves is a blacksmith, living at Calistoga. He
visited Truckee this spring, examined the sites of the differ-
ent cabins, and has rendered most valuable assistance in the
preparation of this history.
The Murphys have always been well and favorably known
in the best society of California. Mrs. Harriet F. Pike was
married at Sutter's Fort, in 1847, by Alcalde Sinclair, to M. C.
Nye. Prior to the discovery of gold, they lived about three
THE MURPHYS. 241
miles above Marysville, which, at this time, bore the name of
Nye's Ranch. Mrs. Nye died in 1872, at Dalles, Oregon,
and her remains were brought to Marysville and laid in the
city cemetery. Naomi L. Pike was married, in 1865, to Dr.
Mitchell, of Marysville, moved to Oregon, became a widow,
and is now the wife of John L. Schenck. Her address is,
The Dalles, Wasco County, Oregon.
Mary M. Murphy was married, in 1848, to C. Covillaud,
then of Nye's Ranch, Cal. In 1850 the city of Marysville
was laid out, and was named in honor of Mrs. Mary Covil-
laud. After lives of distinguished honor, Mr. and Mrs. Covil-
laud died, but there are now living five of their children.
Mary Ellen is married to a prominent stock dealer, of Dalles,
Oregon ; Charles J., a very bright and promising young man,
is in the law office of his uncle, William G. Murphy; Wil-
liam P., Frank M., and Naomi S., are all living at Dalles,
Oregon. William G. Murphy resided at Marysville until
1849, when he went east to receive an education. He grad-
uated with high honors at the State University of Missouri.
He was married in Tennessee, returned to the Pacific Coast
in 1858, and in 1863 was duly admitted a member of the bar
of the Supreme Court of Nevada. He resided and practiced
his profession at Virginia City until in the fall of 1866, when
he returned to Marysville, Cal. He now holds the position
of City Attorney, and has an excellent and remunerative
practice. He has a beautiful and charming home, and his
family consists of himself, his wife, and seven children. His
eldest, Lulie T., was born in the Territory of Nevada, and
his second child, Kate Nye, was born in Nevada subse-
quent to its admission as a State. William G., Jr., Charles
Mitchell, Ernest, Harriet F., and Leander B. were born in
Marysville.
Simon P. Murphy went back to Tennessee, and married at
16
242 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
his old home. He served in the Union army. He died in
1873, leaving a wife and five children.
William M. Foster gave his name to Foster's Bar, on the
Yuba River. He died in 1874, of cancer. Of the children of
Mr. and Mrs. Foster, there are now living, Alice, born in
1848; Georgia, born in 1850; Will, born in 1852; Minnie,
born in 1855 ; and Hattie, born in 1858. Mrs. S. A. C. Fos-
ter has been residing in San Francisco, but her present ad-
dress is, care of her brother, Wm. G. Murphy, Marysville.
Mr. and Mrs. Reed settled with their family in San Jose,
California. Mrs. Margaret Reed died on the twenty-fifth of
November, 1861, and her husband, James F. Reed, on the
twenty-fourth of July, 1874. They are buried side by side,
their coffins touching. Mrs. Reed died with her entire fam-
ily gathered about her bedside, and few death-bed scenes
ever recorded were more peaceful. As she entered the dark
waters, all about her seemed suddenly bright. She spoke of
the light, and asked that the windows be darkened. The
curtains were arranged by those about her, but a moment
afterward she said, "Never mind; I see you can not shut out
the bright light which I see." Looking up at the faces of
her husband and children, she said very slowly, "I expect,
when I die, I will die this way, just as if I was going to
sleep. Wouldn't it be a blessing if I did?" The last words
were uttered just as the soul took its flight. Thomas K.
Reed and James F. Reed, Jr., reside in San Jose, Cal. The
latter was married March 16, 1879, to Sarah Adams. Vir-
ginia E. Reed was married on the twenty-sixth of January,
1850, to J. M. Murphy. Their children's names are, Mary M.,
Lloyd M., Mattie H., John M., Virginia B., J. Ada, Dan
James, Annie Mabel, and T. Stanley. Lloyd, Mattie, and
Mabel are sleeping in Oak Hill Cemetery, at San Jose, Cal.
Mary was married to P. McAran, June 28, 1869. Mr. Me-
THE BREENS. 243
Aran is one of the directors of the Hibernia Bank, and resides
in San Francisco. John M. Murphy, Jr., was married April
i, 1880, to Miss Hattie E. Watkins. Martha J. (Patty) Reed
was married at Santa Cruz, Cal., December 25, 1856, to Mr.
Frank Lewis. They had eight children : Kate, born Octo-
ber 6, 1857; Margaret B., born June 6, 1860; Frank, born
March 22, 1862; Mattie J., born April 6, 1864; James Fra-
zier, born August 31, 1866; a babe, born May 30, 1868, who
died in infancy; Carrie E., born September 15, 1870; and
Susan A., born December 31, 1873. Mr. Lewis died June 18,
1876. Mrs. Lewis and her children reside at San Jose.
Wm. H. Eddy married Mrs. F. Alfred, at Gilroy, California,
in July, 1848. They had three children: Eleanor P., James
P., and Alonzo H. Eleanor married S. B. Anderson, in 1871,
and resides in San Jose. James married in 1875, and with
his wife and two children resides in San Jose. Alonzo is a
physician in Monument, Colorado. In 1854, Mr. and Mrs.
Eddy separated, and in 1856 he married Miss A. M. Pardee,
of St. Louis. Mr. Eddy died December 24, 1859, at Peta-
luma, California.
Patrick Breen removed with his family from Sutter's Fort
early in 1848, and permanently settled at the Mission of San
Juan Bautista, in San Benito County, California. Mr. Breen
lived to see all his children grow to maturity and become
happily established in life. On the twenty-first of December,
1868, he peacefully closed his eyes to this world, surrounded
by every member of his family, all of whom he preceded to
the tomb.
All the surviving members of the Breen family are still
residing at or near San Juan. John Breen married in 1852.
His family, consisting of his wife and ten children, are all
living. His children's names are: Lillie M., Edward P.,
John J., Thomas F., Adelaide A., Kate, Isabella, Gertrude,
244 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
Charlotte, and Ellen A. Breen. Edward J. Breen married in
1858. His wife died in 1862, leaving the following children:
Eugene T., Edward J., and John Roger. Patrick Breen, Jr.,
married in 1 865 ; his wife is living, and their children are Mary,
William, Peter, Eugene. Simon P. Breen married in 1867 ; his
wife is living; their children are Geneva and Mary. James F.
Breen, the present Superior Judge of San Benito County,
married in 1870 ; his wife is living; their only surviving chil-
dren are Margaret and Grace. Peter Breen died, unmarried, on
July 3, 1870, by accidental death. Isabella M. Breen was mar-
ried in 1869, to Thomas McMahon, and with her husband
resides at Hollister, San Benito County. William M. Breen,
whose portrait appears in the group of the Breen family, was
born in San Juan in 1848, and was hot of the Donner Party.
He married in 1874, leaving a widow, and one child, Mary.
Margaret Breen, the heroic woman, devoted wife, and
faithful mother, had the satisfaction of living to see her
infant family, for whose preservation she had struggled so
hard and wrought so ceaselessly, grow to manhood and
womanhood. In prosperity, as in adversity, she was ever
good, kind, courageous, and "affable to the congregation of
the Lord." She was always self-reliant, and equal to the
most trying emergencies ; and yet, at all times, she had a
deep and abiding faith in God, and firmly relied on the mercy
and goodness of Him to whom she prayed so ardently and
confidently in the heavy hours of her tribulation. The hope
of her later years was that she might not be required to
witness the death of any of her children ; but it was willed
differently, as two of them preceded her to the grave. April
13, 1874, ripe in years, loved by the poor, honored and re-
spected by all for her virtues and her well-spent life, she
quietly and peacefully passed from the midst of her sorrow-
ing family to the other and better shore.
WILLIAM MCCUTCHEN.
IN MEMORIAM. 245
The following lines from the pen of Miss Marcella A. Fitz-
gerald, the gifted poetess of Notre Dame Convent, San Jose,
were published in the San Francisco Monitor, at the time of
Mrs. Breen's death :
IN MEMORIAM.
MRS. MARGARET BREEN.
The spring's soft light, its tender, dreamy beauty
Veils all the land around us, and the dome
Of the blue skies is ringing with the music
Of birds that come to seek their summer home.
But one whose heart this beauty often gladdened
No more shall see the fragrant flowers expand;
For her no more of earth — but fairer portion
Is hers, the beauty of the Better Land;
The beauty of that land to which with yearning
Her true heart turned in faith and trust each day;
The land whose hope a glorious bow of promise
Illumed her path across life's desert way.
A loving wife; a fond, devoted mother; ^"r^
A friend who reckoned friendship not a nam« Xf 1ST I ^
A woman who with gentle influence brightened
The hearts of all who to her presence came.
A halo of good deeds her life surrounded;
Her crown of years was bright with deeds of love;
Hers was a gift of charity whose merits
A golden treasure waiteth her above.
Out of the wealth the Master gave unto her
She clothed the needy and the hungry fed;
The poor will mourn a true friend taken from them—
Above her will the orphan's tear be shed.
The orphan's prayer, a prayer of power unbounded,
In grateful accents shall for her ascend,
And strength and consolation for her children
Down from the Savior's pitying heart descend;
246 HISTORY OF THE BONN ER " PARTY.
For over death the Christian's faith doth triumph-
The crown of victory shines above the Cross;
Hers is the fadeless joy and ours the sorrow —
Hers is the gain and ours the bitter loss.
And while the hearts of kindred ache in sadness,
And gloom rests on her once fair home to-day,
As a true friend who mourns a loved one taken,
This simple wreath upon her grave I lay.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Orphan Children of George and Tamsen Donner — Sutler, the Philanthro-
pist— "If Mother would Only Come!" — Christian and Mary Brunner — An
Enchanting Home — "Can't You Keep Both of Us?" — Eliza Donner Cross-
ing the Torrent — Earning a Silver Dollar — The Gold Excitement — Getting
an Education — Elitha C. Donner, Leanna C. Donner, Frances E. Donner,
Georgia A. Donner, Eliza P. Donner.
=NUSUAL interest attaches to the three little orphan
children mentioned in a preceding chapter. Frances,
Georgia, and Eliza Donner reached Sutter's Fort in
April, 1847. Here they met their two elder sisters,
who, in charge of the first relief party, had arrived
at the Fort a few weeks earlier. The three little girls were
pitiable-looking objects as they gathered around the blazing
fire, answering and asking questions respecting what had
taken place since they parted with their sisters at their
mountain cabins.
Among the first to stretch forth a helping hand to clothe
the needy children was that noble philanthropist, Capt. John
A. Sutter. Other newly-found friends gave food from their
scanty supplies, and the children would have been comfort-
able for a time, had not some pilfering hand taken all that
had been given them. They were again obliged to ask for
248 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
food of those whom they thought would give. As the
weather became warmer it had a cheering influence over
them. They forgot their wish for heavier clothing; but
oftener repeated the more heartfelt one — " If mother would
only come!"
Those who have suffered bereavement under similar cir-
cumstances can understand how fully these little girls realized
their situation when they were told that their mother was
dead.
Not long after it became known that their parents were
dead, Georgia and Eliza enlisted the sympathies of a kind-
hearted Swiss couple, Christian and Mary Brunner, who
lived a short distance from the Fort. Mrs. Brunner brought
them bread, butter, eggs, and cheese, with the kind remark
to those in whose hands she placed the articles: " These are
for the little girls who called me grandma; but don't give
them too much at a time." A few days later, upon inquiring
of them how they liked what she brought, grandma was told
they had not had anything, and was so surprised that she de-
cided to take Georgia home with her for a week. Georgia
was more delicate than her younger sister. Eliza was prom-
ised that she should be treated as kindly upon Georgia's
return. The week passed, and Georgia returned, looking
stronger. She told such wonderful stories about the many
cows! lots of chickens! two sheep that would not let her
pass unless she carried a big stick in sight! about the kind-
ness grandma, grandpaHand Jacob, his brother, had shown
to her, that it seemed to Eliza the time would never come
when she and grandma were to start to that enchanting
home! Such a week of pleasure! Who but that little girl
could describe it! Grandma's bread and milk gave strength
to her limbs and color to her cheeks. She chased the chick-
ens, and drove the cows; she brought chips for grandma,
ELIZA DONNER CROSSING THE TORRENT. 249
rode the horse for Jacob, and sat upon grandpa's knee so
cheerfully, that they began to feel as if she belonged to them.
But her week had come to an end! Grandma, all dressed
for a walk to the Fort, sought the little girl, who was busy at
play, and said: " Come, Eliza, I hear that Georgia is sick,
and I am going to take you back, and bring her in your
place." The sweet little girl looked very grave for a moment,
then glancing up with her large black eyes into that dear old
face, she took courage, and asked, with the earnestness of an
anxious child: " Grandma, can't you keep both of us?"
This simple question provided a home for both until after
Hiram Miller was appointed their guardian. He was intrusted
with their money, obtained from Keseberg and from other
sources. The little sisters were then again separated. Fran-
ces had found a home in Mrs. Reed's family. Georgia was
to go with grandpa, who was about to remove to Sonoma.
Eliza went to her eldest sister, who was now married and liv-
ing on the Cosumnes River. Here she remained until win-
ter. Then, hearing that Mr. Brunner's family and Georgia
desired her return, she became so homesick that her sister
consented to her going to them. Fortunately, they heard of
two families who were to move to Sonoma in a very short
time, and Eliza was placed in their charge. This journey
was marked with many incidents which seemed marvelous to
her child-mind. The one which impressed itself most forci-
bly occurred upon their arrival at the bank of the Sonoma
River. She was told that Jacob would meet her here and
take her to grandma's, and was delighted that her journey
was so nearly over. Imagine her disappointment at finding
the recent rains had raised the river until a torrent flowed
between her and her anxious friends. For days Jacob sought
the slowly-decreasing flood and called across the rushing
stream to cheer the eager child. Finally, an Indian, who
25O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
understood Jacob's wish, offered to carry her safely over for
a silver dollar. Never did silver look brighter than that
which Jacob held between his fingers, above his head, that
sunny morning, to satisfy the Indian that his price would be
paid when he and his charge reached the other bank.
What a picture this scene presents to the mind ! There is
the Indian leading his gray pony to the river's side ! He ex-
amines him carefully, and puts the blanket on more securely !
He waits for the approaching child. How small she is — not
five years old ! Ho\v she trembles with dread as the swift
current meets her eye ! Yet she is anxious to go. One
pleading look in the Indian's face, and she is ready. He
mounts; she is placed behind him; her little arms are
stretched tightly around his dusky form ! He presses his el-
bows to his sides to made her more secure, and, by signs,
warns her against loosening her grasp, or she, like the pass-
ing branches, will be the water's prey ! They enter the stream.
Oh ! how cold the water is ! They reach the middle ; her
grasp is tighter, and she holds her breath with fear, for they
are drifting with the current past where Jacob stands ! But
joy comes at last. They have crossed the river. There
stands the pony shaking the water from his sides. The In-
dian takes his dollar with a grunt of satisfaction, and Jacob
catches up the little girl, mounts his horse, and hurries off to
grandpa's, where grandma, Leanna, and Georgia are waiting
to give her a warm welcome.
Months passed pleasantly, but gradually changes occurred.
The war with Mexico ended, and gold was discovered. All
the men who were able to go, hurried off to the mines to
make a fortune. The little girls gave up their plays, for
grandma was not able to do all the work, and grandpa and
Jacob were away. They spent seven years with Mr. and Mrs.
Brunner. They were kindly treated, but their education
THE DONNER ORPHAN CHILDREN. 251
was neglected. In 1854, their eldest sister, Elitha, and her
husband, came to Sonoma, and offered them a home and an
opportunity of attending school. This kind offer was accepted.
For six years Eliza remained in Sacramento, in the family of
her sister, Elitha. To her she was indebted for the opportun-
ity she enjoyed of attending, for one year, with her sister
Frances and afterwards Georgia, St. Catherine's Academy, at
Benicia, and the public schools of Sacramento.
Elitha C. Donner married Perry McCoon, who was subse-
quently killed by a runaway horse. On the eighth of
December, 1853, Mrs. McCoon was married to Benj. W.
Wilder. They reside on the Cosumnes River, a few miles
from Elk Grove, Sacramento County, Cal., and have six
children. Leanna C. Donner was married September 26,
1852, to John App. They now reside in Jamestown, Tuol-
umne County, Cal., and their family consists of Rebecca E.,
born February 9, 1854; John Q., born January 19, 1864; and
Lucy E., born August 12, 1868, who reside with their parents.
Frances E, Donner was married November 24, 1858, to
William R. Wilder, and now resides at Point of Timber, Con-
tra Costa County, Cal. Their children are: Harriet, born
August 24, 1859; James William, born May 30, 1863; Fran-
ces Lillian, born July 17, 1867; Asaph, born May 7, 1870;
and Susan Tamsen, born September 3, 1878. Georgia A.
Donner was married November 4, 1863, to W. A. Babcock.
Their family consists of Henry A., born August 23, 1864;
Frank B., born June 29, 1866; and Edith M., born August
24, 1868. Their address is Mountain View, Santa Clara
County, Cal.
Eliza P. Donner, on the tenth of October, 1861, was mar-
ried to Sherman O. Houghton. Mr. Houghton was born in
New York City, April 10, 1828, served in the Mexican war,
was Mayor of San Jose in 1855 and 1856, represented Cali-
252 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
fornia in the Forty-second and Forty-third Congress, and is
at present a prominent member of the San Jose bar. Mr. and
Mrs. Houghton have six children. The youngest living was
born in Washington, D. C., at which city his family resided
during the four years he served as member of Congress.
Their children are: Eliza P., Sherman O., Clara H., Charles
D., Francis J., and Stanley W. Their youngest born, Her-
bert S., died March 18, 1878, aged twenty months. f Mary M.
Donner, daughter of Jacob Donner, was adopted into the
family of Mr. James F. Reed, in 1848. She continued a
member of this family until her marriage with Hon. S. O.
Houghton, of San Jose, August 23, 1859. June 21, 1860,
Mrs. Mary M. Houghton died, leaving an infant daughter,
Mary M., who is now a young lady, and a member of the
family of Mr. and Mrs. Houghton.
George Donner, Jr., son of Jacob Donner, married Miss
Margaret J. Watson, June 8, 1862. Their children now living
are: Mary E., Cora J., George W., John C., Betty L., and
Frank M. Albert, their eldest, died in 1869, and an infant
son died in 1875. George Donner, Jr., died at Sebastopol,
February 17, 1874. Mrs. Donner now lives with her children
on their farm near Sebastopol, Sonoma County, California.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Yerba Buena's Gift to George and Mary Donner — An Alcalde's Negligence —
Mary Donner's Land Regranted — Squatters Jump George Donner's Land —
A Characteristic Land Law Suit — Vexatious Litigation — Twice Appealed
to Supreme Court, and Once to United States Supreme Court — A Well-
taken Law Point — Mutilating Records — A Palpable Erasure — Relics of the
Donner Party — Five Hundred Articles — Buried Thirty-two Years — Knives,
Forks, Spoons — Pretty Porcelain — Identifying Chinaware — Beads and Ar-
row-heads—A Quaint Bridle Bit — Remarkable Action of Rust — A Flint-
lock Pistol— A Baby's Shoe— The Resting Place of the Dead— Vanishing
Landmarks.
iERBA BUENA'S citizens, shortly after the arrival
of George and Mary Donner, contributed a fund
for the purpose of purchasing for each of them a
town lot. It happened that these lots were being
then distributed among the residents of the town.
Upon the petition of James F. Reed, a grant was made to
George Donner of one hundred vara lot number thirty-nine,
and the adjoining lot, number thirty-eight, was granted to
Mary. The price of each lot was thirty-two dollars, and both
were paid for out of the fund. The grants were both entered
of record by the Alcalde, George Hyde. The grant made to
George was signed by the Alcalde, but that made to Mary
was, through inadvertence, not signed. A successor of Hyde,
254 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
as Alcalde, regranted the lot of Mary Donner to one Ward,
who discovered the omission of the Alcalde's name to her
grant. This omission caused her to lose the lot. In 1851, a
number of persons squatted on the lot of George Donner,
and in 1854 brought suit against him in the United States
Circuit Court to quiet their title. This suit was subsequently
abandoned under the belief that George Donner was dead.
In 1856, a suit was instituted by George Donner, through his
guardian, to recover possession of the lot. Down to the
spring of 1860, but little progress had been made toward re-
covering the possession of the lot from the squatters. The
attorneys who had thus far conducted the litigation on be-
half of George Donner, were greatly embarrassed because of
their inability to fully prove the delivery of the grant to him,
or to some one for him, the courts of the State having,
from the first litigation concerning similar grants, laid down
and adhered to the rule that such grants did not take effect
unless the original grant was delivered to the grantee. Such
proof was therefore deemed indispensable.
After such proofs upon this point as were accessible had
been made, the proceedings had ceased, and for several
months there had been no prospect of any further progress
being made. During this time, one Yontz, who had under-
taken to recover possession of the lot at his own expense for
a share of it, had the management of the case, and had em-
ployed an attorney to conduct the litigation. Yontz became
unable, pecuniarily, to proceed further with the case, and in-
formed Donner of the fact, whereupon the latter induced his
brother-in-law, S. O. Houghton, to attempt to prosecute his
claim to some final result. Mr. Houghton applied to the
court to be substituted as attorney in the case, but resistance
was made by the attorney of Yontz, and the application was
denied. Houghton then applied to the Supreme Court for a
A CHARACTERISTIC LAND LAW SUIT. 255
writ of mandate to compel the judge of the court before
which the suit was pending, to order his substitution as at-
torney of record for Donner. This writ was granted by the
Supreme Court, and in January, 1861, Mr. Houghton became
the attorney of record. This suit had been brought by Green
McMahon, who had been appointed Donner's guardian for
that purpose, and after a full examination of the case, Mr.
Houghton dismissed it, and immediately commenced an-
other in the name of George Donner, who was then of age.
In the following year, February, 1862, it was brought to trial
before a jury, and after a contest which lasted ten days, a
verdict was rendered in favor of Donner. Bsncroft
The squatters appealed to the Supreme Court of the State
where the verdict of the jury was set aside, a new trial or-
dered, and the case sent back for that purpose. This new
trial was procured by means of an amendment of the law
regulating trials by jury in civil cases. This amendment was
passed by the Legislature, at the instance of the squatters,
after the verdict had been rendered. A new trial was had in
1864, before a jury, and resulted in another verdict for Don-
ner. The first trial had attracted much attention, and was
frequently mentioned in the newspapers of San Francisco,
and thus several persons who were present when the grant
was made had their attention called to the controversy, and
to the difficulty encountered in proving a delivery of the
grant. They communicated to Donner the fact that it was
delivered for him to William McDonald, the man with whom
he lived at the time. They also narrated the circumstances
attending the delivery of the grant. This information, how-
ever, came too late for the purposes of the trial. Prior to the
second trial, the written testimony of all these witnesses was
procured and in readiness for use when required, but it was
never required. Mr. Houghton and the attorneys whom he
256 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
had called upon to aid in the case, determined to rest its de-
cision upon another ground. They concluded to insist that,
as it was a grant issuing from the government through its in-
strument, the Alcalde, who was invested with authority for
the purpose, no delivery of the grant was necessary, and that
none was possible, as the entry on the record book of the
Alcalde was the original, it bearing his official signature and
being a public record of his official act. This was a bold at-
tack upon the rule which the courts had long established to
the contrary. After a full argument of the question at the
second trial, the court sustained the view of the law taken by
Mr. Houghton and his associates, and, on appeal, the decision
was sustained by the Supreme Court of the State, and subse-
quently affirmed by the Supreme Court of the United States,
before which the question was carried by writ of error.
Donner's attorneys adopted this course because, at the
first trial, the squatters had produced the copy of the grant
which had actually been issued and delivered. This they
had obtained possession of and mutilated, and then had sur-
reptitiously placed it in the office of the County Clerk of San
Francisco, who was the custodian of the records of the
office of the Alcaldes of San Francisco. Their purpose was
to make it appear that it had never been signed or issued by
the Alcalde, but had been transferred with the other papers
and records of that office to the office of the County Clerk.
This document was written on paper having the same water-
marks as numerous other grants to other persons, admitted
to be genuine, made about the same time as the grant to
Donner. The body of this instrument was in the hand-
writing of the then clerk of the Alcalde, and the certificate
that the Alcalde's fees had been paid bore the genuine signa-
ture of the clerk. There was, however, no signature or
name where the signature of the Alcalde should have been;
RELICS OF THE DONNER PARTY.
but there was, instead, a plain, palpable erasure, easily seen
by holding the paper to the light.
George Donner lived to see his property become very
valuable, but the vexatious litigation above described was
not terminated until after his death. Meantime, however, he
sold his interest, receiving therefor a considerable sum of
money.
In conclusion it may be proper to speak of the many in-
teresting relics which have recently been found under the
former sites of the cabins of the Donner Party. When the
last relief party left Donner Lake, all articles of minor value
were left scattered here and there about the floors and door-
yards. Soon afterward the tide of emigrant travel turned
principally to other routes, and the Donner Lake road was
comparatively deserted. Years passed, and the loose soil,
the wind-blown dust, the grass and fallen leaves covered the
articles from sight. It was twenty years before men began
to search for the sites of the cabins, and to carry away little
mementos of the mournful place. Nothing at this time
remained in sight save a few charred logs, and a few score
of tall, unsightly stumps. Even the old pioneers had great
difficulty in pointing out the location of more than one or
two of the cabins. After the preparation of this history
began, the author induced several of the survivors to visit
Donner Lake, and to assist in definitely determining the
location and boundaries of the cabins. Digging in the earth
which thirty-two years ago formed the cabin floors, the most
interesting relics were found. A collection of over five hun-
dred of these articles is in the author's possession. There
are spoons which are bent and rust-eaten, some of which are
partially without bowls, and some destitute of handles, the
missing portions being vaguely shadowed in the rust-stained
earth in which they were imbedded. Knives there are whose
17
258 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY
blades are mere skeleton outlines of what they formerly
were, and which in some instances appear to be only thin
scales of rust. The tines of the forks are sometimes pretty
well preserved, sometimes almost entirely worn away by the
action of rust.
Among the relics found at the Breen cabin are numerous
pieces of old porcelain, and china-ware. These fragments
are readily distinguished by painted flowers, or unique de-
signs enameled in red, blue, or purple colors upon the pure
white ground-surface of the china-ware. This ware is cele-
brated for the durability of its glaze or enamel, which can
not be scratched with a knife, and is not acted upon by
vegetable acids. The relics unearthed were found at a depth
of from one to six inches beneath the ground which formed
the floor. A fragment of this ware, together with an old-
fashioned gun-flint, was sent to Hon. James F. Breen, who
wrote in reply :
" The relics, piece of chinaware and gun-flint, are highly
appreciated. The chinaware was at once recognized by my
brother. In fact, there is one piece of the china set (a cream
pitcher) still in the possession of my brother. The piece
sent is recognizable by the decoration figures, which corre-
spond exactly with those on the pitcher."
There is less of the "ghastly" and "horrible" among the
relics thus far discovered than would be supposed. There
are many, like the beads and arrow-heads, which were evi-
dently treasured by members of the party as relics or curios-
ities collected while crossing the plains. There are pieces of
looking-glass which reflected the sunken, starved features of
the emigrants. Among the porcelain are pieces of pretty
cups and saucers, and dainty, expensive plates, which in
those days were greatly prized. Bits of glassware, such as
tumblers, vials, and dishes, are quite numerous. Bolts, nails,
A FLINT-LOCK PISTOL.
screws, nuts, chains, and portions of the wagon irons, are
almost unrecognizable on account of the rust. The nails are
wrought, and some of them look as if they might have been
hammered out by the emigrants. One of these nails is so
firmly imbedded in rust alongside a screw, that the two are
inseparable. Metallic buttons are found well preserved, a
sewing awl is quite plainly distinguishable, and an old-fash-
ioned, quaint-looking bridle-bit retains much of its original
form. Some of the more delicate and perishable articles
present the somewhat remarkable appearance of having in-
creased in size by the accumulations of rust and earth in
which they are encased. This is especially the case with
a darning-needle, which has increased its circumference in
places nearly one half, while in other places it is eaten away
until only a mere filament of steel remains. The sharp point
of a curved sewing-awl has grown with rust until it is larger
than the body of the awl. Several fish-hooks have been
found, all more or less rust-eaten. A brass pistol, single-
barreled, apparently a century old, was found under the
Graves cabin, and near it was an old flint-lock. In the cor-
ner of the fire-place of the Reed cabin were found several
bullets and number two shot. Gun-flints, ready for use or
in a crude form, were found in each of the cabins.
W. C. Graves visited the site of his father's cabin on the
twenty-first of April, 1879, and many articles were dug up in
his presence which he readily recognized. A large number
of the leading citizens of Truckee were present, and assisted
in searching for the relics. Among other things was a coop-
er's inshave, which belonged to his father, who was a cooper
by trade. An iron wagon-hammer was also immediately
recognized as having been used in their wagon. A small tin
box, whose close-fitting cover was hermetically sealed with
rust, was found, and while it was being examined, one of the
2<5O HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY.
gentlemen, Mr. Frank Rabel, tapped it lightly with his knife-
handle. The side of the box crushed as easily as if it had
been an egg-shell. The wonderful fact connected with this
relic, however, is that Mr. Graves said, before the box was
crushed, that his mother kept oil of hemlock in this box, and
that upon examination a distinct odor of oil of hemlock was
found remaining in the box.
A whetstone, or what might more properly be called an
oil-stone, was discovered at the Breen cabin. On this stone
were the initials "J. F. R.," which had evidently been cut
into its surface with a knife-blade. Mrs. V. E. Murphy and
Mrs. Frank Lewis, the daughters of James F. Reed, at once
remembered this whetstone as having belonged to their
father, and fully identified it upon examination.
A great many pins have been found, most of which are
the old-fashioned round-headed ones. A strange feature in
regard to these pins is that although bright and clean, they
crumble and break at almost the slightest touch. The metal
of which they are made appears to be entirely decomposed.
One of the most touching relics, in view of the sad, sad his-
tory, is the sole of an infant's shoe. The tiny babe who
wore the shoe was probably among the number who perished
of starvation.
The big rock against which the Murphy cabin stood is
half hidden by willows and by fallen tamaracks, whose
branches are interlaced so as to form a perfect net-work above
the place where the cabin stood. Under the floor of this
cabin the remains of the poor victims are supposed to have
been buried. Nature appears to have made every effort to
conceal the spot. In addition to the bushes and the fallen
trees there is a rank growth of marsh grass, whose rootlets
extend far down in the soil, and firmly resist either shovel or
spade. Until very late in the summer this mournful spot is
VANISHING LANDMARKS. 26 1
still further protected by being inundated by the waters of
Donner Creek. It is hardly necessary to remark that no
relics have ever been found under the site of the Murphy
cabin. The tall stumps which surround this rock, and the
site of the Graves and Reed cabin, and which are particu-
larly numerous around the site of the Donner tents at. Alder
Creek, are of themselves remarkable relics. Many of them
were cut by persons who stood on the top of very deep snow.
They are frequently ten, fifteen, and twenty feet in height.
Time and the action of the elements have caused them to
decay until, in some instances, a child's hand might cause
them to totter and fall. In a few years more they all will
have disappeared.