HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 DONNER PARTY 
 
 A TRAGEDY OF THE SIERRA 
 
 ELEVENTH EDITION
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 DONNER PARTY 
 
 A TRAGEDY OF THE SIERRA 
 
 By C. F. McGLASHAN 
 
 TRUCKEE, CAL. 
 
 ELEVENTH EDITION 
 
 A. CARLISLE & Co., PRINTERS 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 1918
 
 Copyrighted 1879 and 1880, by C. F. McGLASHAN.
 
 SRLF 
 URL 
 
 <T7 
 
 
 
 TO 
 
 MRS. ELIZABETH A. KEISER, 
 
 ONE OF THK 
 
 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. 
 
 TRUCKF.E, CAL., June 30, 1879.
 
 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 Brecn 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. 51 
 
 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 yS
 
 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 o f 
 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 Sutler 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
 
 JO CONTENTS. 
 
 School Discipline Capt. George Dormer'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
 
 1 2 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 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Sketch of Gen. John A. Sutler 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" 
 Granl Utter Ruin Hock Farm Gen. Sutler's Death Mrs. E. P. 
 Iloughton'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 Tatnscn Donner's Last Act of Devo- 
 tion A Remarkable Proposal Twenty-six Present Survivors Me- 
 Cutchcn Keseberg The Graves Family The Murphys Naming 
 Marysville The Reeds The Breens 2 ;6 
 
 CHAPTER XXI II. 
 
 The Orphan Children of George and Tamsen Donner Suiter, the Philan- 
 thropist "If Mother Would Only Come" Christian and Mary l.run- 
 ncr An Enchanting Home "Can't You Keep Both of Us?" Eliza 
 Donner Crossing the Torrent Earning a Silver Dollar The Gold 
 Excitement Gelling an Education Elitha C. Donner Leanna C. 
 Donner Frances E. Donner Georgia A. Donner Eliza P. Donner.. 2.);
 
 CONTENTS* 13 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Yerba Bucna's Gift to George and Mary Donner An Alcalde's Negligence 
 Mar)' 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 D^ad Vanishing Land-marks 25.}
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Donner Lake A Famous Tourist Resort Building the Central Pacific Cali- 
 fornia's Skating Park The Pioneers The Organization of the Donnei 
 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. 
 
 3 
 
 |HREE 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 fc 
 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,
 
 l6 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 arc deserving of a niche in 
 the country's history. The pioneers who became martyrs to 
 the ca'isc 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
 
 ORGANIZATION OF THE PARTY. 1 7 
 
 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
 
 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 
 \vere as follows : 
 
 George Donner, Tamsen Donner (his wife), Elitha C. Don-
 
 2O HISTORY OF THE DONNIiK PARTY. 
 
 ner, Leanna C. Donner, Frances K. Donner, 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 (;//<? Graves). With 
 this family came John Snyder. 
 
 From Keokuk, Lee County, Iowa, came Patrick Brcen, 
 Mrs. Margaret Breen, John Breen, Edward J. Breen, Patrick 
 Breen, Jr., Simon P. Brcen, James F. Breen, Peter Breen, and 
 Isabella M. Breen. Patrick Dolan also came from Keokuk. 
 
 William II. 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 (tu ( e Murphy), Naomi
 
 KILLED liY 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. Wolfinger, 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 Brecns 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, was 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 feeble 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 MOTHERS 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. 
 
 llrs. Conner'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. 
 
 'i, 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 arc 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 25, 1846:
 
 MRS. CONNER'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 CONNER 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. Pie 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-
 
 27 
 
 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. 
 
 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, 1846.) 
 
 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. 29 
 
 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
 
 30 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. 
 ***** The next 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. Rccd 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 
 clown one of the small streams, they found a varying, irregu
 
 FIRST VIEW OF GREAT SALT LAKE. 33 
 
 lar canyon, down which they passed, filling its small stream 
 with brush and rocks, crossing and recrossing it, making 
 roads, breaking and mending wagons, until three weeks' time 
 had expired. The entire country was heavily covered with 
 timber and underbrush. When the party arrived at the out- 
 let of this stream into Salt Lake Valley, they found it utterly 
 impassable. It was exceedingly narrow, and was filled with 
 huge rocks from the cliffs on either side. Almost all the 
 oxen in the train were necessary in drawing each wagon out 
 of the canyon and up the steep overhanging mountain. 
 While in this canyon, Stanton and Pike came up to the com- 
 pany. These gentlemen encountered great hardships after 
 their horses gave out, and were almost starved to death when 
 they reached the train. 
 
 Instead of reaching Salt Lake in a week, as had been 
 promised, the party were over thirty days in making the trip. 
 No words can describe what they endured on this Hastings 
 Cut-off. The terrible delay was rendering imminent the dan- 
 gers which awaited them on the Sierra Nevada. At last, 
 upon ascending the steep rugged mountain before mentioned, 
 the vision of Great Salt Lake, and the extensive plains sur- 
 rounding it, burst upon their enraptured gaze. All were wild 
 with joy and gratitude for their deliverance from the terrible 
 struggle through which they had just passed, and all hoped 
 for a prosperous, peaceful journey over pleasant roads through- 
 out the remainder of the trip to California. Alas! there were 
 trials in the way compared with which their recent struggles 
 were insignificant. But for the fatal delay caused by the 
 Hastings Cut-off, all would have been well, but now the sum- 
 mer was passed, their teams and themselves were well-nigh 
 exhausted, and their slender stock of provisions nearly con- 
 sumed.
 
 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. Sutler. 
 
 I 
 
 iEAR 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 m^re. Reed suspected the calamity 
 which had prevented the rei arn 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 cachcing 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-off 
 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 
 afterward 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. 
 
 GRAVELLY FORD, on the Humboldt River, wit- 
 J 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 usefulness. 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 CONNER 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 ancestors 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 Sutter's Fort. Of course there were 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 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 \V. 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
 
 SNYDER S 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 sec 
 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, and carried him his 
 gun and ammunition. The affectionate girl also managed 
 4
 
 5<D HISTORY OF THE DONXER 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 
 Truckce, 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. 
 
 Great 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. 
 
 J 
 
 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 order 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 pio-
 
 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 W'illiam 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 terrible 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 ihe 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. Brecn 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, nt'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 intcrw oven with future chapters in the History 
 of the Donner Party, that the following items, taken from Mr 
 Schallcnbcrgcr'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- 
 Idred 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. 
 
 jLL 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 tics 
 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- 
 
 5
 
 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 fingers 
 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-
 
 MAKING SNOW-SHOES. 6/ 
 
 unteers. Of these, Charles Burger wenfe 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
 
 7O 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-
 
 /2 HISTORY OF THE DONNEK 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
 
 "l AM COMING SOON." 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 DOXXER 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 u, 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 
 
 large farms, and took Continental money in payment. Soon 
 afterward this money became worthless, and fhey 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 Sutler'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:
 
 STANTON'S LAST POEM. 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."
 
 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. 
 
 |ET no one censure Stanton's companions for abandon- 
 l? ing their brave comrade. In less than twenty-four 
 hours all were without food, unless, indeed, it was 
 Mr. Eddy, who, in his narration published by Judge 
 Thornton, states that on the day of Stanton's death 
 he found half a pound of bear's meat which had been 
 secreted in a little bag by his wife. Attached to this meat 
 was a paper, upon which his wife had written in pencil a note 
 signed, "Your own dear Eleanor." Mr. Eddy had not dis- 
 covered this meat until the sorest hour of need, and the hope 
 expressed in Mrs. Eddy's note, that it would be the means of 
 saving his life, was literally fulfilled. There is something ex- 
 tremely touching in the thought that this devoted wife, who, 
 as will presently be seen, was starving to death in the cabins, 
 saved her husband's life by clandestinely concealing about 
 his person a portion of the food which should have sustained 
 herself and her infant children.
 
 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 
 Sutler's. I told them I would go too, for to go back 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 dreaty, 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, which 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. 8l 
 
 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 jn 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 CONNER 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 who 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/ 
 
 dians 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
 
 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. 
 
 iOW 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
 
 9O 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 21. 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 
 jwarm or cook our beef. 
 
 " Dec. 9. Commenced snowing about eleven o'clock ; 
 
 wind northwest; took in Spitzer yesterday, so weak that he 
 
 an not rise without help; caused by starvation. Some have 
 
 1 scanty supply of beef; Stanton trying to get some for him- 
 
 elf 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. 1 6. 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. Brcen 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 CONNER 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 summertime 
 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. Rccd and the others came back; could not
 
 A STUMP TWENTY-TWO FEET HIGH. IO1 
 
 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 Sutter'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 CONNER 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. 
 
 j 
 
 j)T 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- 
 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 CONNER 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, setf- 
 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. IO7 
 
 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. I 09 
 
 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 Suiter'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
 
 1 12 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- 
 diansThe Diary of the First Relief Party. 
 
 , at this time, was sparsely settled, and it 
 was a fearful undertaking to cross the snowy mount- 
 ains to the relief of the storm-bound emigrants. A 
 better idea of the difficulties to be encountered by the 
 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 Cali- 
 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
 
 I J4 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 traveled 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. I I 5 
 
 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 
 night. Going up to camp, 1 found the men all standing
 
 Il6 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 fOMPANION. 117 
 
 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 lc.:t 
 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, 1 
 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. I If) 
 
 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 HISloi<Y 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 Sutler 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. 
 
 j 
 
 j>AMES 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 Marysviile 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
 
 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 DONNEB PARTY. 
 
 camp, and found that the Indians had been there, stopped 
 and wanned 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- 
 ehoes 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, tne 
 relief party of Captain R. P. Tucker began the descent of the 
 gorge leading to Donner Lake.
 
 NOBLE MOTHERS. 129 
 
 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. 
 
 A 
 
 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 strongmen 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 Donrrer, and Elizabeth Donner. 
 Their charity, fortitude, and self-sacrifice failed not in the 
 darkest hour. Death came so often now, that little notice 
 was taken of his approach, save by these mothers. A dread- 
 ful want of consciousness precedes starvation. The actual 
 death is not so terrible- The delirious would rave of feasts, 
 9
 
 130 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 
 'ainter, 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 
 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. 
 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. I lun- 
 dreds of blows, however, were struck, and the marks of
 
 DYING RATHER THAN EAT HUMAN FLESH. 13 1 
 
 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 
 awaite.d 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. Ree-d, 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 smoke 
 issuing from the hole in the snow which marked their abode, 
 he shouted, as he had done at the upper cabins. The effect 
 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. Mrs. 
 Graves is especially praised by the survivors for her unstinted 
 charity. 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 cat. 
 
 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. 
 
 IRS. 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 Donncr 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, III. 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 CONNER S EARLY LJFE. 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 home, 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 CONNER 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 visito. 
 for their kind attention, and went home without learniq 
 their opinion. 
 
 The next morning she was informed that the Board o. 
 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
 
 144 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
 
 A BABY'S DEATH. 145 
 
 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- 
 ains. 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- 
 inger. 
 
 In starting from the camps at Donner Lake, Mrs. Kese- 
 berg's child and Naomi L. Pike were carried by the relief 
 party. 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 
 started with the first party in search of relief, and he carried 
 me 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 DOXNER 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
 
 ELITHA DONNERS 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. 
 
 jEASIN 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 Gentral 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
 
 I5O 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 ^olian 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 cliffi-
 
 152 HISTORY OF THE CONNER 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, 1 847. 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. \Vhilcthe 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 snoxv 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 b.e 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
 
 ST ANTON, 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 CONNER 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 Donncrs told the California folks four 
 days ago that they would commence on the dead people if
 
 PATRICK BREEN S DIARY. 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 
 jr six roots resembling onions in shape; tasted some like a 
 t/weet 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
 
 l6o HISTORY OF THE CONNER 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 eat 
 them slowly and enjoy them more completely. 
 
 The names of the members of this second relief party were
 
 MRS. GRAVES' MONEY STILL BURIED AT CONNER LAKE. 161 
 
 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 Brcen, Jr., James F. 
 Breen, Peter Brcen, and Isabella M. Brcen, 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-
 
 l62 HISTORY OF THE DONNUK 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. 
 
 [EFORE 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. Tamscn Donner was able to have crossed the mount- 
 ains with her children with cither 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,
 
 "GOD WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU." 165 
 
 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 v s the cabins at the lake, and left them. Probably 
 they t> came aware of the impossibility of escaping the 
 storm, nd knew that it would be sure death, for both them- 
 selves ; nd 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 CONNER 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. l6/ 
 
 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 UONNER PARTY. 
 
 There was food in the Donner tents from this time fonvard. 
 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, lie 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. 17 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 73 
 
 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
 
 1/4 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. 1/5 
 
 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 :
 
 1/6 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. 177 
 
 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. 179 
 
 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 w r as 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 Donncr 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 j 
 
 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 blue 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 Dtad Refusing to Eat The 
 Morning Star The Mercy of God The Mutilated Forms The Dizziness 
 of Delirium Faith Rewarded "There is Mrs. Breen !" 
 
 jjERY 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
 
 RESTORING A LIFE. 1 85 
 
 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 olten 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 car 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,
 
 ICp HISTORY OF THE CONNER 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. 
 
 ^s> 
 
 ROSTER 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.
 
 IQ2 HISTORY OF THE DONNER PARTY. 
 
 The following extracts are made from the California Star, 
 a newspaper published at " Yerba Buena," as San Francisco 
 was then called. They do justice to the sentiment of the 
 people of California, and indicate something of the willing- 
 ness of the pioneers to aid the Donner Party. From the 
 Star of January 16, 1847, is taken the following article, which 
 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 dis- 
 tressing situation, a party of emigrants from the United 
 States, who were prevented from crossing the mountains by 
 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 foot 
 of the mountains, and but for the timely succor afforded 
 them by Capt. J. A. Sutter, one of the most humane and 
 liberal men in California, they must have all perished in a 
 few days. Capt. Sutter, as soon as he ascertained their sit- 
 uation, sent five mules loaded with provisions to them. A 
 second party was dispatched with provisions for them, but 
 they found the mountains impassable in consequence of the 
 snow. We hope that our citizens will do something for the 
 relief of these unfortunate people." 
 
 From the same source, under date of February 6, 1847, is 
 taken the following: 
 
 " PUBLIC MEETING. 
 
 "It will be recollected that in a previous number of our 
 paper, we called the attention of our citizens to the situation 
 of a company of unfortunate emigrants now in the California 
 mountains. For the purpose of making their situation more 
 fully known to the people, and of adopting measures for
 
 SUBSCRIPTIONS FOR THE CONNER PARTY. IQ3 
 
 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 $800 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 Napa 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 
 13
 
 194 HISTORY OF THE DONNER fARTY. 
 
 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 McCutchen 
 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 beer, 
 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 ol
 
 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 Hive.'" 
 
 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. 197 
 
 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 has 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, of 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 found, 
 and kind nature effected a cure which a physician would have 
 pronounced impossible. 
 
 In concluding this chapter, it is quite appropriate to quote 
 the following, written by J. F. Breen : "No one can attach 
 blame to those who voted to leave part of the emigrants. It 
 was a desperate case. Their idea was to save as many as 
 possible, and they honestly believed that by attempting to 
 save all, all would be lost. But this consideration and the 
 further one that Stark was an entire stranger to every one in 
 the camps, not bound to them by any tie of blood or kin- 
 dred, nor having any hope of reward, except the grand con- 
 sciousness of doing a noble act makes his conduct shine 
 more lustrously in the eyes of every person who admires 
 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." 
 
 1_S 
 
 fjiDDY, Foster, Thompson, and Miller passed Nicholas 
 i 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 CONNER PARTY. 
 
 parly 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 relie'f 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
 
 2O2 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
 
 AN HONORED NAME. 2O3 
 
 travel fourteen miles that day. The strong, healthy men 
 compr"' ; g 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. 
 
 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, this 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
 
 2O6 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. 2O/ 
 
 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. 2CKJ 
 
 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 of 
 their packs against the trees. The weather looked very 
 threatening, and I exhorted them to go on until the summi^ 
 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
 
 2IO HISTORY OF THE CONNER 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 Sutler'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. 2 1. 1 
 
 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 he. ~lot v ^ 'vere like ice. I think she had
 
 GOING TO GET THE TREASURE. 213 
 
 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 I 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 5 
 
 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 Sutler'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 Fallon, William M. Fos- 
 ter, John Rhodes, J. Foster, R. P. Tucker, E. Coffeemire, and 
 Keyser. William M. Foster had recrossed 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 1 6, 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 
 1st; 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. Fallen'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. 2 17 
 
 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. 2 19 
 
 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 Suiter'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
 
 "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. Suiter'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 Suiter'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 Sutler's Fort and started the Phcenix Brewery. I 
 succeeded, and acquired considerable property. I finally sold 
 out for fifty thousand dollars. I had concluded to take this 
 jmoncy, 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 86 1-2. 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, ; n a mammoth distillery at Calistoga; and
 
 THE MOST MISERABLE OK MEN. 22j 
 
 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 XXL 
 
 Sketch of Gen. John A. Sutler 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" Granl Utter Ruin Hock Farm 
 Gen. Sutler's Death Mrs. E. P. Houghton's Tribule. 
 
 - - & 
 
 JEALOUS in sending supplies and relief to the suffer- 
 i| 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
 
 226 HISTORY OF THE DONNEK 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 
 Sutler'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 Sutler'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 Sutler'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. 22Q 
 
 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 Sutler's chanty 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 CONNER 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, I-ancaster County, Penn- 
 sylvania, and his time was devoted to ei.deavoring 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, 1 880, 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, 
 n& 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- 
 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. Sutler, 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. 
 
 jITH 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, Wolfmger 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 
 rescued 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, 1 847, 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 CONNER 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. 
 
 William 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 Sutler's Fort, in 1847, by Alcalde Sinclair, to M. C. 
 Nyc. 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, 1 874. 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 K. Reed was married on the twenty-sixth of January, 
 1850, to J. M. Murphy. Their children's names are, Mary M., 
 Lloyd M., Mattie II., 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 GREENS. 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, an ^ 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, 1 859, 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 1865 ; 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 not 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.
 
 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; 
 
 A friend who reckoned friendship not a name; 
 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 DONNER 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 Cornel" 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. 
 
 j 
 
 =NUSUAL interest attaches to the three little orphan 
 children mentioned in a preceding chapter. Frances, 
 Georgia, and Eliza Donner reached Sutler'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 
 oitiable-looking objects as they gathered around the blazing 
 hr<_, 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. Suttcr. 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 man)- 
 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, grandpa, and 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 UONNER 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
 
 250 HISTORY OF THE CONNER 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 ! How 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 \vas 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. 2$ I 
 
 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. 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 
 ">n 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. 
 
 |=ERBA 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. Iloughton, to attempt to prosecute his 
 claim to some final result. Mr. Iloughton 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. 
 
 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. 257 
 
 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 s'ites 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
 
 25 8 HISTORY OF THE DOXXER 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 pri/.cd. Bits of glassware, such as 
 tumblers, vials, and dishes, arc quite numerous. Bolts, nails,
 
 A FLINT-LOCK PISTOL. 259 
 
 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 arc 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, an< ^ many articles were dug up in 
 his presence which he readily recognized. A large number 
 of the leading citizens of Truckce 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(X) 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. R. 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 it 
 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.
 
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