THE CALIFORNIA 
 
 TRAGEDY
 
 BY ]. QUINN THORNTON • WITH A FOREWORD BY JOSEPH A. SULLIVAN 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA 
 
 TRAGEDY
 
 CALIFORNIA CENTENNIAL EDITION 
 
 Copyright, 1945, by Joseph A. Sullivan 
 
 Printed and made in the United States of America 
 Pubhshed by Biooooks • Oakland 10, CaHfornia
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 RESIDENT HARRY S. TRUMAN, after attending the 
 I closing ceremonies of the first UNCIO meeting in San Fran- 
 cisco, enplaned to the Summer White House at Indepen- 
 dence, Missouri, with only one stop-over at Salt Lake City, 
 retracing and crisscrossing the route of the Mainliners, the 
 Overland Railroad, the Western Union Telegraph, the Pony Express, 
 the gold seekers of '49, the Mormon Migration, and the covered 
 wagons of the Oregon and California Trails. He made this trip in 
 seven or eight hours, a journey completed by the survivors of the Reed 
 and Donner Party in twelve months — just an even ninety-nine years ago. 
 For Number Four of the California Centennial Editions we have 
 selected Judge J. Quinn Thornton's presentation of what is now known 
 as The Donner Tragedy. 
 
 Judge Thornton's account was first issued in New York in 1849. 
 This printing is from Volume II, Harper's 1855 Edition, unedited and 
 unexpurgated. Although there is some duplication, we add as an 
 Epilogue part of Edwin Bryant's What 1 Saw In California. Bryant's 
 contemporary account has many supporting statements on the Donner 
 Tragedy. As both Thornton's and Bryant's books relate parts of the 
 Breen diary, this book contains the basic important facts of the travail 
 and hardships of the travelers between Fort Bridger and Sutter's Fort. 
 Let us try an experiment in orientation to the period 1846, and this 
 action. There is a war on. Maps show the great wedge of California 
 extending from Shasta to San Diego and from Great Salt Lake to 
 Monterey. The shadowy figures in the background watching this opera- 
 tion represent London, Mexico City, Paris, Moscow, and Washington. 
 Now place your left hand, palm up, on your knee. With your right 
 hand, deposit a peso or half dollar in the middle of the palm of the 
 left hand, obverse side up. (A gold Double Eagle would be more appro- 
 
 ^
 
 priate, should you happen to have one). Relax the left hand. Place your 
 right hand in your pocket if you don't want it to see what goes on. 
 Ready! The thumb and four fingers represent five approaches to CaH- 
 fornia. The thumb is Commodore Sloat an,d the United States Navy 
 moving up past Lower Cahfornia toward Monterey. The index finger is 
 the Migrators depicted in this book, recently shod and organized at 
 Independence, and now trekking the Oregon-California Trail. Destiny 
 is also in the middle finger. It was a busy time in Independence. The 
 blacksmiths and wagoners were making Colonel Philip Kearny and the 
 United States Army ready for the march over the Santa Fe Trail. The 
 fourth finger is Captain Fremont's Cavalcade in the Shasta Mountains. The 
 little finger, in the historic sequence, is Captain Sam Brannan and the 
 ship Brooklyn^ rounding the Horn and heading for Yerba Buena. 
 
 Keep your attention focused on the coin in your hand. The alpha- 
 betical representations on the coin may be thought of as symbols of 
 the active figures on the California stage in the spring and summer of 
 1846 — Larkin, Marsh, Ide, Castro, Sutter, Pico, Leidesdorff, Vallejo, 
 and Yount. Now, ever so slowly, start closing your hand over the coin. 
 The alphabet symbols will soon be engulfed in the more potent force. 
 The thumb. Navy, timid from a small burn of four years past, sails 
 slowly along the Coast. The index finger, Civilians, moves out of the 
 South Pass and is about at the California border. The middle finger, 
 Army, is closing along the southern route. The fourth finger, Political, 
 is returning down the valley of the Sacramento. The little finger, Reli- 
 gious, after refreshment, is leaving Honolulu. 
 
 Slowly grasp the coin (California) with unequal force and pressure 
 until the hand is fully closed. The experiment has shown the California 
 conquest, the forces involved, the interested gallery and the historical 
 setting. Of more than passing interest is that after a century, although 
 the names of the puppets have changed, the forces and onlookers in the 
 background remain unchanged.
 
 While we are getting; back to Thornton you may return the coin to 
 your pocket. It will bear these fingerprints for many a day. 
 
 This book is rugged reading, but to anyone cognizant of the recent 
 happenings in Mittel Europa and the lands bordering on the China Sea, 
 it should not be too tough. Certainly we can not have it said that our 
 forefathers could read the Donner story and that we can't take it in 
 the year 1945. 
 
 Be that as it may, we as all other readers of California history are 
 heavily indebted to Thornton. His was the first published account of 
 the grim tragedy and is the richest narrative of the 0\erland. Written 
 under pressure and without benefit of documents or gazeteer, it has some 
 points that should he clarified for the modern reader. The St. Mary's 
 (Ogden's River) is the Humboldt. Truckey's (Truckee) Lake and Pass 
 is now Donner; the river is still known as the Truckee. 
 
 Thornton's volume in its essentials is based on interviews with 
 William Eddy while the latter's mind was still fresh from the incidents 
 and scenes in the mountains. Eddy's story is more than worth while. 
 In writing it Thornton established himself as the first great reporter of 
 the West. It is a real privilege to reprint it it tor no other reason than 
 the recording of Eddy's deeds. He was a hero of the western trail and 
 in writing about him Thornton produced the golden page in Calitornia 
 narrative. Pages 45 to 47 ot this book are unsurpassed in our literature 
 for simplicity, for suspense, and for dramatic beauty. 
 
 The author was a creature of his times and while no one will challenge 
 his heroes, he was too severe with his villains.* Later research discloses 
 
 *S)'Ivie was arranging some letters on a board — E-\'-I-L. "Now, Bruno," she said, 
 "what does that spell ..." 
 
 "Why, its LIVE backwards!" he exclaimed. (I thought it was indeed.) 
 
 "How did you manage to see that?" said Sylvie. 
 
 "I just twiddled my eyes," said Bruno, "and then I saw it directl)." 
 
 — Lewis CaiToll, Sylvie and Bruno.
 
 that in fact there were no great villains in the survivors of the Donner 
 Party. The so-called Party was heterogeneous from the start at Sandy. 
 They lost far too much time breaking trail through the Wasatch, 
 partially caused by poor discipline; then the ordeal of awful thirst on 
 the desert. What high casting of the dice sent two Sangamon comrades 
 along such different roads? One, James Reed, to frightful losses on the 
 Bonneville Salt Flats; the other, Abraham Lincoln to the Presidency. 
 Though Hastings is blamed by some, he had enough foresight to leave 
 messages along the worst parts of the road. Decimated in the travel 
 across the Great Basin and along the Humboldt, it is likely that more 
 of the Party would not have made the Sacramento Valley in any event. 
 The tmusual losses in transportation and supplies; fatigue, doubt and 
 tear took constant toll. Starvation was on the flanks and dissension was 
 in their midst; the threat of time was whipping them on. Finally reach- 
 ing the Sierra escarpment, their lack of cohesion and fundamentally 
 their lack of knowledge led to the tragic episode at the Lake. Remember 
 they were mostly from the prairies; without doubt substantial and of 
 fine quality in their natural setting, they knew nothing of the mountains 
 and the mountain snows. 
 
 At about the same time, 500 miles due south, Kearny's army was 
 finding out what a winter that was. "Unusually severe, one with snow 
 and frost prevailing, which was seldom known in that latitude, and the 
 men all sufirering from cold and lack of food had experienced many 
 hardships on the way from New Mexico." 
 
 The fact that as many colonists made the grade is a tribute to their 
 stamina and enduring fortitude under as difficult conditions as any 
 group of travelers ever had to face. The highest compliment that can be 
 paid to the members of the Party is for the large percentage of women 
 and children who finally made it. The seed corn was carried over. On 
 that score alone they deserve commendation. 
 
 IV
 
 California was a resistant Miss and the main gate had to be crashed. 
 These pioneers were the expendables, and while many did not breach 
 the road block, those who made it showed the way to the millions that 
 followed. 
 
 To the reader of this book, a word of caution. This Thornton-Eddy 
 account has one grave fault, in that one might be misled in the case 
 of the family Breen. In the English language there is no higher title 
 conferred than that of Saviour, and it must be clearly earned. In the 
 affair Donner there were heroes who rescued many of the first great 
 party of colonization. The heroine who topped the wall and got 
 through, who saved the largest number, was the greatest woman who 
 ever walked the Yuba Pass into California — indomitable mother of 
 seven — Margaret Breen! 
 
 In early summer in the High Sierra a pensive sojourner may observe 
 the Snow Flower thrusting its blood-red flaming torch to the sun in 
 commemoration of the trail breakers to California, and in its phallic 
 resuraence offer a challenae to the beneficiaries of the Reed and Donner 
 Party. In these beautiful mountains thev may learn of Prince Chion, 
 first-suckled of the sun, carver of the world, conserver of the life blood 
 of California, Arbiter of values, the Rosetta Stone of the Sciences. 
 The study of Chionology is a mandate to Californians. As these first 
 sorely-tried climbed the heights so must the Chionologist prepare and 
 release to humanity the great solvent of cooperation and united power 
 contained in the star of Chion. 
 
 JOSEPH A. SULLIVAN 
 August 15, 1945
 
 A Salute to 
 
 General Douglas MacArthur 
 
 The Sixth and Eighth Armies 
 
 Saviours of the Continent of Australia; Rescuers of 
 the Philippine Archipelago 
 
 Illustrated by the Emblem of The First Cavalry Division 
 
 They crashed the gates of Santo Tomas
 
 PROLOGUE, Rendezvous at Independence, Missouri 
 
 THE ILL HEALTH of Mrs. Thornton and myself caused 
 us to determine upon a residence in Oregon, with the hope 
 that its pure and invigorating cLmate, would restore this in- 
 estimable blessing we had long lost. Having completed the 
 necessary preparations, we departed from Quinc\', Illinois, 
 April i8, 1846. In due time we arrived at Independence, Missouri, the 
 place of rendezvous. 
 
 On the evening of the last Sabbath previous to leaving this place, we 
 repaired to a house of worship, where we listened, with unusual atten- 
 tion and interest, to a sermon preached by a Methodist minister. We 
 believed that it was probably the last time that we should hear preaching 
 until after our arrival in Oregon. It is not wonderful, therefore, that 
 we felt not only solemn but sad. Our hopes and fears had been greatly 
 excited during several preceding weeks, while preparing for our long and 
 arduous journey, and in bringing ourselves to submit to the severance 
 of those endearing ties that bound us to the place and to the people; 
 but the potent and sublime truths to which we then listened, nerved 
 us for the effort, by tranquillizing our excited feelings. We were about, 
 too, to enter upon scenes in which we were to endure great mental and 
 physical suffering, and we therefore felt that it was especially necessary 
 to go up to the house of God; for nothing so effectually as Christianity 
 can assuage these, or prepare the mind and heart for encountering them. 
 And in our subsequent experience upon the way, we realized that Christi- 
 anity is adapted to the peculiar condition and wants of the emigrant in 
 the wilderness, no less than to persons in an improved and settled state 
 of society; where the delicate sensibilities of refined and highly culti- 
 vated minds grow with the growth and expand with the expansion of the 
 moral powers and affections. — (Mercury at sunrise, 53°; sunset, 76°. — 
 Calm.) 
 
 1
 
 This is the place wlierc emigrants usually rendezvous for the purpose 
 of completing their purchases for the journey, and making their final 
 preparations. Most of the emigrants had already departed. Some were 
 assembled at Indian Creek; a few were still in this place not yet prepared 
 to depart. Among these, I became acquainted with Messrs. James F. 
 Reed, George Donner, and Jacob Donner, together with their wives and 
 families, all from the neighborhood of Springfield, Illinois, and all of 
 whom proposed to go to California. 
 
 The town of Independence was at this time a great Babel upon the 
 border of the wilderness. Here might be seen the African slave with his 
 shining black face, driving his six-horse team of blood-red bays, and 
 swaying from side to side as he sat upon the saddle and listened to the 
 incessant tinkling of the bells. In one street, just driving out of town, 
 was an emigrant, who, having completed all his preparations, was about 
 entering upon the great prairie wilderness; whistling as though his 
 mouth had been made for nothing else. The shrill notes seemed to come 
 up from the bottom of a throat without "a stop." 
 
 Here might be seen the indolent dark-skinned Spaniard smoking a 
 cigar as he leans against the sunny side of a house. He wears a sharp 
 conical hat with a red band; a blue round-about, with little brass but- 
 tons; his duck pantaloons are open at the side as high as the knee, ex- 
 hibitmg his white cotton drawers between his knee and the top of his 
 low half-boots. 
 
 Santa Fe wagons were coming in, having attached to them eight or 
 ten mules, some driven by Spaniards, some by Americans resembling 
 Indians, some by negroes, and others by persons of all possible crosses 
 between these various races; each showing in his dress as well as in his 
 face some distinctive characteristic of his blood and race — the dirty 
 poncho always marking the Spaniard. The traders had been out to Santa 
 Fe, and having sold their goods in exchange for gold dust, dollars, and 
 droves of mules, were then daily coming in; the dilapidated and muddy
 
 condition of their wagons, and wagon-sheets, and the sore backs of their 
 mules, all giving evidence of the length and toil of the journey they had 
 performed and were now about to terminate. 
 
 Merchants were doing all in their power to eflect the sale of supplies 
 to emigrants. Some of the emigrants were hurrying to and fro, lookina 
 care-worn, and many of them sad, as though the cloud had not yet 
 passed away, that had come over their spirits, as they tore themselves 
 from friends and scenes around which had clustered the memories of 
 the heart. One was seen just starting, calling out to his oxen, and crack- 
 ing his whip as though the world was at his control. Although some four 
 or five children in the wagon were crying in all possible keys, he drove 
 on, looking as cheerful and happy, as though he was perfectly sure that 
 he was going to a country where the valleys flowed with milk and honey. 
 Behind the wagon, with her nose almost over the end board, an old 
 mare slowly and patiently stepped along, evincing as much care as 
 though she knew that she was carrying "mother" and "the baby," and 
 therefore must not stumble on any accotmt. — (Mercury at sunrise, 
 56°; sunset, 69°. — Calm.) 
 
 July 19. — Sabbath. — Near the close of a day of toil and discomfort, 
 we encamped on Little Sandy, which is a small stream of clear water, 
 about three feet deep, and forty or fifty feet wide, running with a swift 
 current over a sandy bottom, and finally discharging itself into the 
 Colorado, or Green River of the Gulf of California. Upon each side 
 there were dense groups of tall willows, and an imdergrowth so thick 
 as to make it almost impossible to pass through. The idea of hiding 
 among the close and thick-leaved willows, here got into the heads of 
 Star and Golden, the two greatest rogues in my team; and they in con- 
 sequence gave my driver, Albert, some trouble to find them. All of my 
 other oxen were honest and steady, that is to say Sam, and John, and Nig, 
 and Tom were tolerably honest; while Dick was in all respects faultless. 
 I never knew him to be guilty of a mean thing, or to skulk out of the
 
 way, when he knew that his old friend needed assistance. But upon the 
 subsequent parts of our journey this became a favorite trick with Star 
 and Golden. They would be seen feeding until near the time for "catch- 
 ing up," when suddenly they would be missing — in fact, they would be 
 nowhere. Frequently afterward, when I had not a better driver than 
 myself — not even Albert — or, worse still, my Dutchman, David, I 
 have hunted for these oxen through every part of a thicket, as I believed; 
 and would be about to give them over, as having been driven away by 
 the Indians, when I would suddenly see them, not, perhaps, above 
 fifteen feet from me, standing perfectly still, and looking directly at 
 me. And when they saw that they had actually been discovered, they 
 would of their own accord march out, with the most perfect alacrity 
 and good-nature, and by their looks and actions, would plainly enough 
 say, "Good-morning, good-morning. Oh, I am so glad to see you. 
 You do not suspect us of hiding here?" Being thus fairly caught in their 
 tricks, these rogues would go directly to the kraal, and wait patiently 
 for me to yoke them. 
 
 A large number of Oregon and California emigrants encamped at 
 this creek, among whom I may mention the following: — Messrs. West, 
 Crabtree, Campbell, Boggs, Donners, and Dunbar. I had, at one time or 
 another, become acquainted with all ot these persons in those com- 
 panies, and had traveled with them from Wokaruska, and until sub- 
 sequent divisions and subdivisions had separated us. We had often, 
 since our various separations, passed and repassed each other upon the 
 road, and had frequently encamped together by the same water and 
 grass, as we did now. In fact, the particular history of my own journey 
 is the general history of theirs. This fact is mentioned now for reasons 
 which will more fully appear hereafter. I shall, after having noted the 
 principal events of our journey, again introduce the reader to some of 
 these emigrants, for the purpose of enabling him to acquaint himself 
 with the events connected with their journey from this place into Upper
 
 California. I shall, therefore, dismiss them here, with the remark, that 
 the areater number of the Californians, and especially the companies 
 in which George Donner, Jacob Donner, James F. Reed, and William 
 H. Eddy, and their families traveled, here turned to the left, for the 
 purpose of going by the way of Fort Bridges, to meet L. W. Hastings, 
 who had informed them, by a letter which he wrote, and forwarded 
 from where the emigrant road leaves the Sweet Water, that he had ex- 
 plored a new route from California, which he had found to be much 
 nearer and better than the old one, by the way of Fort Hall, and the head 
 waters of Ogden's River, and that he would remain at Fort Bridges to 
 give further information, and to conduct them through. 
 
 The Californians were generally much elated, and in fine spirits, 
 with the prospect of a better and nearer road to the country of their 
 destination. Mrs. George Donner was, however, an exception. She was 
 gloomy, sad, and dispirited, in view of the fact, that her husband and 
 others could think for a moment of leavina the old road, and confide in 
 the statement of a man of whom they knew nothing, but who was prob- 
 ably some selfish adventurer. — (Mercury at sunrise, 46°; sunset, 52°.) 
 
 July 20. — The previous night having passed away cheerfully and 
 pleasantly, we all resumed our journey; our California friends turning 
 to the left, and we continuing along the right-hand road, over a country, 
 the face of which was a brown sand — the granite detritus of the moun- 
 tain in the vicinity — until 3 o'clock, when we encamped on an open, 
 grassy plain, on the banks of Big Sandy, which is another tributary of 
 Green River. Blocks of granite, containing magnetic iron, were seen 
 on both sides of our road. The escarpments along the creek showed a 
 formation of party-colored sand. We had an abundance of good grass. 
 Our fuel was drift-wood, hois de vache, and artemisia; the latter of 
 which, burning with a quick and oily flame, made a very hot fire, and 
 was always acceptable, when sufficiently abundant. — (Mercury at sun- 
 rise, 48°; sunset, 58°.)
 
 Journey of a party of California emigrants, in 1846, from 
 Fort Bridger to the Sinks of Ogden's River. 
 
 U'PON MY ARRIVAL at the town of San Francisco, I 
 had the pleasure of receiving the friendly salutations and 
 cordial greetings of many who had been my traveling com- 
 panions in 1846. We had all commenced our journey to- 
 gether from the Wokaruska creek, west of the frontier 
 settlements of Missouri, with my valued friend Col. Russell for our 
 leader. In the divisions and subdivisions of the company which sub- 
 sequently occurred, at the times and places noted in my journal, we 
 were separated. Our respective companies, however, often tra\'eled near 
 to each other, and not unfrequently we encamped at the same grass 
 and water. The reader, by turning back to my journal entries, under 
 dates of July 21 and 22, 1846, will see that these California emigrants, 
 at that time, determined upon following Lansford W. Hastings, upon 
 a "cut-off" into California. This man had left California, and pro- 
 ceeded as far as the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains, and encamped 
 at a place where the Sweet Water breaks through a canon, at the point 
 where the emigrants leave that river to enter the South Pass. He had 
 come out for the purpose of inducing the emigrants to follow him 
 through a "cut-off" into California. After meeting some of the ad- 
 vanced companies, and sending forward a messenger with a letter to 
 those in the rear, informing them that he had explored a new and much 
 better road into California than the old one, he returned to Fort Bridger, 
 where he stated that he would remain until the California and Oregon 
 emigrants should come up, when he would give a more particular de- 
 scription of his "cut-off." 
 
 The emigrants having all in time arrived at that place, Hastings as- 
 sured them in the most solemn manner that the road over which he 
 proposed to conduct them, was much nearer and better than the one via 
 
 7
 
 Fort Hall. He stated that there was an abundant supply of wood, water, 
 and grass upon the whole line of the road, except one dry drive of thirty- 
 five miles, or of forty at most; that they would have no difficult cafions 
 to pass, and that the road was generally smooth, level, and hard. 
 
 Upon meeting in California many of those who survived the dangers 
 of that disastrous cut-off, some of them expressed a wish that I would 
 embody the facts, and publish them to the world in connection with my 
 own journal, as constituting an important part of the history of the 
 journey of the emigration of that year to the Pacific coast. 
 
 The notes from which I write the history of the journey of that 
 party, after our final separation at Sandy, were written in the presence of 
 Mr. Clarke of San Francisco, as the facts were verbally communicated 
 to me by survivors. 
 
 It is proper to state, likewise, that such was the character of many of 
 the shocking and heart-sickening scenes of the journey, that the emi- 
 grants had at first determined that they would, as far as practicable, keep 
 these occurrences from the gaze of the world. But those who went from 
 the settlements of California to the relief of the emigrants, at the Moun- 
 tain Camp, necessarily obtained a knowledge of many facts. These were 
 published, on their return, in the California Star, and also others that 
 were materially erroneous. The latter class of newspaper notices, to- 
 gether with a multitude of floating rumors, finally led to the opinion 
 that a circumstantial and plain narrative of the events referred to should 
 be given to the world. 
 
 The California Company, after parting, on the izd August, 1840, 
 at Sandy, from the company in which I traveled, proceeded on their 
 road to Bridger's trading post, where they arrived July 25th. They left 
 that place on the 28th, buoyant with hope, and filled with pleasing ex- 
 pectations of a speedy and happy termination of the toils and fatigues 
 of travel. They continued traveling, without any circumstance of espe- 
 cial importance occurring, until August 3d, at which time a letter from 
 
 8
 
 Lansford W. Hastings was found by them, at the first crossing of Weber 
 river, placed in the spHt of a stick, in such a situation as to call their at- 
 tention to it. In this letter they were informed that the road down Weber 
 river, over which the sixty-six wagons led by Lansford W. Hastings had 
 passed, had been found to be a very bad one, and expressing fears that 
 their sixty-six wagons could not be gotten through the caiion leading 
 into the valley of the Great Salt Lake, then in sight; and advising them 
 to remain in camp until he could return to them, for the purpose of 
 showing them a better road than that through the canon of Weber river 
 which here breaks through the mountains. The company, piloted by 
 Hastings, did with great difficulty succeed in passing. In this letter, 
 Hastings had indicated another road which he affirmed was much bet- 
 ter; and by pursuing which they would avoid the caiion. Messrs. Reed, 
 Stanton, and Pike then went forward, for the purpose of exploring the 
 contemplated new route. In eight days, Mr. Reed returned, reporting 
 the practicability of the way, and that Messrs. Stanton and Pike were 
 lost. These eight days thus spent materially contributed in bringing 
 upon them the disasters which ensued. Upon receiving this report, 
 they dispatched a party in search of Messrs. Stanton and Pike, and 
 resumed their journey. 
 
 The company at that time consisted of the following persons: — J. F. 
 Reed, wife, and four children; George Donner, wife, and five children; 
 Jacob Donner, wife, and seven children; Patrick Brinn, wife and seven 
 children; William Pike, wife and two children; William Foster, wife, 
 and one child; Lewis Kiesburg, wife, and one child; Mrs. Murphy, a 
 widow woman, and five children; William McCutcheon, wife, and one 
 child; W. H. Eddy, wife, and two children; Noah James; Patrick Dolan; 
 
 Samuel Shoemaker; John Denton; C. F. Stanton; Milton Elliot; 
 
 Sinith; Hardcoop; Joseph Rianhard; Augustus Spitzer; John 
 
 Baptiste; Antoine; Herring; Hallerin; Charles Burger; 
 
 and Baylis Williams.
 
 On the second day after resuming their journey they came to a grove 
 of willows and quaking asp, through which their way led. Here they were 
 compelled to open a road, which occupied one day. They again con- 
 tinued their journey, and passing over some very difficult bluffs, en- 
 tered a hollow leading into the Utah River valley, and through which 
 thev were under the necessity of cutting eight miles of very thick timber 
 and close-tangled underbrush. This difficult labor occupied eight days. 
 On the sixth day of their being thus employed, Mr. W. Graves, wife, 
 and eight children, and his son-in-law Jay Fosdick and wife, and John 
 Snyder, came up with them. On the ninth day they left their encamp- 
 ment, and traveled into an opening which they supposed led out into 
 the Utah River valley. Here Messrs. Stanton and Pike, who had been 
 lost from the time Mr. Reed had gone forward with them to explore, 
 were found by the party they had sent to hunt for them. These men 
 reported the impracticability of passing down the valley in which they 
 then were; and they advised their companions to pass over a low range of 
 hills into a neighboring valley. This they did. Here they worked five 
 days in cutting through the timber. On the seventh day they came out 
 of the timber into a prairie, which led down to a canon opening into the 
 valley of the Utah. The canon being impracticable as a wagon way, 
 they doubled teams and got their wagons to the top of the hill, from 
 which there was a gradual descent into the valley. They encamped in 
 this; and resuming their journey on the next morning, struck the trail 
 of the company in advance, at the crossing of the river which flows from 
 the Utah Lake into the Great Salt Lake. They were thus occupied 
 thirty days in traveling forty miles. 
 
 On September 3d, they again resumed their journey, pursuing their 
 way around the south side of the Salt Lake, and along the trail of the 
 company in advance. 
 
 The valley of the Utah river is about thirty-five miles long. One of 
 the emigrants expressed to me the opinion, that as a happy abode for 
 
 10
 
 man, it surpassed in beauty, fertility, and every thing that can render a 
 spot of earth desirable, any country that he had seen or expected to see. 
 It is well supplied with streams of clear water, filled with salmon-trout. 
 The atmosphere is remarkably pure and healthful, and the whole face 
 of the country is covered with a heavy coat of the most nutritious grass. 
 It is surrounded by high and rugged mountains, in the bosom of which 
 it reposes in a calm and quiet beauty, that invites the weary and worn 
 traveler to stay his wanderings and to enjoy, in the seclusion and loveli- 
 ness of the scene, the happiness which he has sought in vain amidst the 
 crowded marts of commerce or the fashion and dissipation of cities. 
 The peaceful stillness and loveliness of this most interesting valley, and 
 the happiness to which it seemed to invite, strangely contrasted with the 
 suffering of body and the anguish of spirit which that devoted party 
 subsequently endured. 
 
 In listening to the description of this valley, as thus substantially 
 given to me by the emigrants, I was strongly reminded of my own emo- 
 tions and feelings when, after passing over a long and cheerless waste, I 
 suddenly emerged from sands and artemisia into a beautiful little valley 
 of bubbling springs, and verdure, and flowers. At such a time, it has ap- 
 peared far more interesting and lovely, from the striking contrast, than 
 it would have done, had I met with it in a country of general fertility. 
 On these occasions I have often experienced a cloud of sadness to come 
 over my spirit, as I reflected that the leaves around me must wither, and 
 the flowers, that modestly turned up their beautiful faces to the sun, 
 must fall silently and unobserved. The beauty of the place, the pencil- 
 ing of the leaves, the sparkling of the fountains, the rippling of the 
 streams, and the whole aspect of the surrounding scenery of nature re- 
 joicing in her beauty, yet induced within my mind saddened emotions, 
 as I reflected how evanescent were all these varied expressions of the 
 beautiful and the real. The interest I have thus felt in all this, was but a 
 tribute of grief and affection, eminently befitting and proper in one 
 
 11
 
 whom Nature had never deserted in adversity, but had a thousand times 
 whispered in his ear the promise of a new and better condition of being, 
 in a world not subjected to the decree of the fell destroyer, where the 
 fields are ever fresh and verdant, and the flowers never fade. 
 
 It is in this valley that the Mormons have made a settlement and laid 
 out a town, about four miles above the emigrant road. 
 
 The Mormons, upon being expelled from Nauvoo, in 1846, made a 
 large settlement at Council Bluffs, upon the Missouri river. This is 
 designed rather for a place of outfit and preparation for the journey 
 across the Rocky Mountains, than as a permanent settlement. A party, 
 consisting of about three hundred and fifty, left Council Bluffs very 
 early in the year 1847, for the purpose of exploring the Salt Lake coun- 
 try. In June they were followed by about fifteen hundred souls, with 
 provisions and supplies for eighteen months. They purpose to plant and 
 sow crops for 1848; and if the climate and soil should be found favorable 
 to the plan of making a permanent settlement at this place, they will 
 establish one here, for the purpose of making it a half-way or stopping 
 place for persons traveling from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Many thou- 
 sands are expected, during each succeeding year, to settle at this point. 
 
 So soon as a settlement shall be established at this place, they pro- 
 pose to explore the mountains, for the purpose of obtaining minerals. 
 They also contemplate opening a new road from the Salt Lake into Cali- 
 fornia. They measured the distance from the Council Bluffs to the Salt 
 Lake, and found it to be eleven hundred miles. The distance from the 
 Salt Lake to San Francisco, now estimated at seven hundred miles, they 
 believe can be diminished to five hundred. 
 
 On the evening of September 3d, the emigrants encamped on the 
 southeast side of the Great Salt Lake. On the morning of the next day, 
 they resumed their journey, and at about 9 o'clock commenced passing 
 round the point of a mountain which here runs down to the beach of the 
 lake. This occupied the entire day. Here Mr. Reed broke an axletree, 
 
 12
 
 and they had to go a distance of fifteen miles to obtain timber to repair 
 it. By working all night, Mr. Eddy and Samuel Shoemaker completed 
 the repair for Mr. Reed. About 4 o'clock, p. m., Mr. Hallerin, from St. 
 Joseph, died of consumption, in Mr. George Donner's wagon. About 
 8 o'clock, this wagon (which had stopped) came up, with the dead body 
 ot their fellow-traveler. He died in the exercise of a humble trust and 
 confidence in the ability and willingness of the blessed Redeemer to save 
 his soul. The melancholy e\ent filled all hearts with sadness, and with 
 feelings of solemnitv, they committed his body to its silent and lonely 
 grave in the wilderness. Nor did they seek to disguise the tears that si- 
 lently coursed down many a care-worn face, as they took their last adieu 
 of the lost fellow-traveler. The day of the 5th was spent, with the ex- 
 ception of a change of camp, in committing the body of their friend to 
 the dust. They buried him at the side of an emigrant who had died in 
 the advance company. The deceased gave his propert\', some $1500, to 
 Mr. George Donner. 
 
 On September 6th, they resumed their journey, and after dark en- 
 camped at a place to which they ga\'e the name of the Twenty Wells. 
 The name was suggested by the circumstance of there being at this place 
 that number of natural wells, filled to the ver^' surface of the earth with 
 the purest cold water. They sounded some of them with lines of more 
 than seventy feet, without finding bottom. They varied from six inches 
 to nine feet in diameter. None ot them overflowed; and, what is most 
 extraordinary, the ground was dry and hard near the very edge of the 
 water, and upon taking water out, the wells would instantly fill again. 
 
 On the morning of the 7th, they left camp; and after making a long 
 and hard dri\e, encamped in a large and beautiful meadow, abundantly 
 supplied with the very best grass. Here they found a number of wells, 
 differing in no respect from those just mentioned. Here they found a 
 letter from Lansford W. Hastings, informing them that it would oc- 
 cupy two days and nights of hard driving to reach the next water and 
 
 13
 
 grass. They consequently remained in camp on the 8th, to rest and re- 
 cruit their cattle. Having done this, and cut grass to carry on the way, 
 they resumed their journey at daylight on the morning of September 9th, 
 with many apprehensions, and at about ten o'clock, a. m., of the 12th, 
 Mr. Eddy and some others succeeded, after leaving his wagons twenty 
 miles back, in getting his team across the Great Salt Plain, to a beauti- 
 ful spring at the foot of a mountain on the west side of the plain, and 
 distant eighty miles from their camp of the yth and 8 th. On the evening 
 of the 1 2th, just at dark, Mr. Reed came up to them, and informed them 
 that his wagons and those of the Messrs. Donner had been left about 
 forty miles in the rear, and that the drivers were trying to bring the 
 cattle forward to the water. After remaining about an hour, he started 
 back to meet the drivers with the cattle, and to get his family. Mr. Eddy 
 accompanied him back five miles, with a bucket of water for an ox of his 
 that had become exhausted, in consequence of thirst, and had lain down. 
 Mr. Reed met the drivers ten miles from the spring, coming forward 
 with the cattle. He continued on, and the drivers came into camp about 
 midnight, having lost all of Mr. Reed's team after passing him. The 
 Messrs. Donner got to water, with a part of their teams, at about 2 
 o'clock, a. m., of September 13th. Mr. Eddy started back at daylight 
 on the morning of the 13th, and at dawn of day on the 14th, he brought 
 up Mrs. Reed and children, and his wagon. On the afternoon of the 
 14th, they started back with Mr. Reed and Mr. Graves, for the wagons 
 of the Messrs. Donner and Reed; and brought them up with horses and 
 mules, on the evening of the 15th. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the dismay and anguish with which that 
 perilous and exhausting drive filled the stoutest hearts. Many families 
 were completely ruined. They were yet in a country of hostile Indians, 
 far from all succor, betrayed by one of their own countrymen. They 
 could not tell what was the character of the road yet before them, since 
 the man in whose veracity they reposed confidence, had proved himself 
 
 14
 
 so utterly unworthy of it. To retreat across the desert to Bridger was 
 impossible. There was no way left to them, but to advance; and this they 
 now regarded as perilous in the extreme. The cattle that survived were 
 exhausted and broken down; but to remain there was to die. Feeble and 
 dispirited, therefore, they slowly resumed their journey. 
 
 On this drive thirty-six head of working cattle were lost, and the oxen 
 that survived were greatly injured. One of Mr. Reed's wagons was 
 brought to camp; and two, with all they contained, were buried in the 
 plain. George Donner lost one wagon. Kiesburg also lost a wagon. The 
 atmosphere was so dry upon the plain, that the wood-work of all the 
 wagons shrank to a degree that made it next to impossible to get any of 
 them through. 
 
 The name of this place indicates its character in some respects, and I 
 need not now detain the reader with a description of it; but I can not 
 forbear mentioning an extraordinary optical illusion related to me by 
 one of the emigrants. They saw themselves, their wagons, their teams, 
 and the dogs with them, in very many places, while crossing this plain, 
 repeated many times in all the distinctness and vividness of life. Mr. 
 Eddy informed me that he was surprised to see twenty men all walking 
 in the same direction in which he was traveling. They all stopped at the 
 same time, and the motions of their bodies corresponded. At length he 
 was astounded with the discovery that they were men whose features and 
 dress were like his own, and that they were imitating his own motions. 
 When he stood still, they stood still, and when he advanced, they did 
 so also. In short, they were living and moving images of himself, and of 
 his actions. Subsequently he saw the caravan repeated in the same ex- 
 traordinary and startling manner. 
 
 Mr. Eddy having ascended the side ol the mountain that commanded 
 a view of the plain below, saw the morning spread out upon the hills, 
 and, at length, beheld the sun arise above the plain, and cover it with 
 splendor and glory. The mind can not conceive, much less the tongue 
 
 15
 
 express, the ravishing beauty of the scene that instantly kindled into a 
 magnificence, grandeur, and lovehness unequaled — cloud- formed mass- 
 es of purple ranges, bordered with the most brilliant gold, lay piled 
 above the eastern mountains. Peaks were seen shooting up into narrow 
 lines of crimson drapery, and festooning of greenish orange, the whole 
 being covered with a blue sky of singular beauty and transparency. All 
 the colors of the prism bordered the country before him, and ten thou- 
 sand hues of heavenly radiance spread and diffused themselves over it, 
 as the sun continued to ascend. The king of day seemed to rise from his 
 throne, and cast upon his footstool his gorgeous robes of light, sparkling 
 with unnumbered gems. Here nature appeared to have collected all her 
 glittering beauties together in one chosen place. 
 
 Having yoked some loose cows, as a team for Mr. Reed, they broke 
 up their camp on the morning of September i6th, and resumed their 
 toilsome journey, with feelings which can be appreciated by those only 
 who have traveled the road under somewhat similar circumstances. On 
 this day they traveled six miles, encountering a very severe snow storm. 
 About 3 o'clock, p. m., they met Milton Elliot and William Graves, 
 returning from a fruitless effort to find some cattle that had got off. 
 They informed them that they were then in the immediate vicinity of a 
 spring, at which commenced another dry drive of forty miles. They 
 encamped for the night, and at dawn of day of September 17th, they 
 resumed their journey, and at 4 o'clock, a. m., of the i8th day they 
 arrived at water and grass, some of their cattle having perished, and the 
 teams which survived being in a very enfeebled condition. Here the most 
 of the little property which Mr. Reed still had, was buried, or cached, 
 together with that of others. As the term cache will frequently occur, I 
 ought to remark that it is used for what is hidden. Cacher, the verb, is 
 equivalent to to conceal. Here, Mr. Eddy, proposed putting his team to 
 Mr. Reed's wagon, and letting Mr. Pike have his wagon, so that the 
 three families could be taken on. This was done. They remained in 
 
 16
 
 camp during the day of the i8th to complete these arrangements, and to 
 recruit their exhausted cattle. 
 
 What is the cause of the sterihty and aridness of this region, and also 
 of much of the country between the Mississippi and Middle Oregon, is 
 a question that will never, perhaps, be fully answered. It is a remarkable 
 fact, however, that all such districts of country are destitute of timber. 
 And Humboldt has almost demonstrated that the streams of a country 
 fail in proportion to the destruction of timber. If the streams fail the 
 seasons will continue to be worse, because of their becoming each year 
 more dry. It has been observed by the old settlers of a country, that 
 water-courses have failed as the forests have been cleared away. Hum- 
 boldt, in speaking of the valley of Aragu, in Venezuela, says that the lake 
 receded as agriculture advanced, until fine plantations were established 
 on its banks. The desolating wars that swept over the country after the 
 separation of the province from Spain, arrested the process of clearing. 
 The trees again grew up, with a rapidity known only to the tropics, and 
 the waters of the lake again rose, and inundated the low plantations. 
 
 Early on the morning of Sept. 19th, the emigrants broke up their en- 
 campment, and passing over a low range of mountains, came down into 
 the head of a most beautiful and fertile valley, well supplied with water 
 and grass. They encamped on the west side of this valley. They gave to 
 it the name of the Valley of the Fifty Springs, the name being suggested 
 by that number being here found. They encamped by one of them, situ- 
 ated in the centre of a cone about ten feet high. The water rose to the 
 top, but did not flow over. Many of the springs were hot, some warm, 
 and many cool, and slightly acid. They saw hundreds of Indians, who 
 were friendly, and seemed never before to have seen a white man. Here 
 were great numbers of antelopes and Rocky Mountain sheep, which 
 they had no difficulty in killing. This valley is destitute of timber, and 
 is about fifteen miles wide. 
 
 17
 
 Early on the morning of the 20th, they continued their journey, and 
 travehng about fifteen miles down the valley in a southerly direction, 
 encamped at night near good grass and water. They proceeded down this 
 valley three days, making about fifty miles of travel. The valley, how- 
 ever, still continued to extend south, beyond the reach of their vision, 
 and presenting the same general appearance. 
 
 On the morning of Sept. 23d, they left the valley of the Fifty Springs, 
 and crossing over a low range of mountains, came into a valley of great 
 beauty and fertility. Crossing this valley, which was here seven miles 
 wide, and finding water, they again encamped. In all these valleys, there 
 are no springs on their eastern sides. The water being uniformly found 
 breaking out at the foot of the mountains, upon the western side. 
 
 They had been traveling m a southerly direction for many days, but 
 on the morning of the 24th, they commenced travelmg due north. This 
 they continued to do three days, following the tracks of the wagons in 
 advance. They then turned a little west of north, and traveled two days, 
 so that in nine days' travel they made but about thirty miles westward. 
 
 On the night of the 2Sth, they encamped at the head of a canon lead- 
 ing into the valley of Mary's or Ogden's river. Here they saw large bodies 
 of Indians in a state of perfect nudity. They hovered around in the vi- 
 cinity, but did not come into camp. 
 
 On the morning of the 29th, they entered the canon, and traveling 
 about eight miles, found, at 11 o'clock, p. m., a place sufficiently large 
 to admit of an encampment out of the water. 
 
 On the 2oth, they pursued their way down the canon, and after trav- 
 eling eight miles, came out into the valley of Mary's river, at night, and 
 encamped on the bank of the stream, having struck the road leading from 
 Fort Hall. Here some Indians came to camp, and informed them by 
 signs, that they were yet distant about two hundred miles from the sinks 
 of that river. 
 
 18
 
 On the morning of October ist, they resumed their journey, and 
 traveled along the usual route down Ogden's river, and encamped that 
 evening at some hot springs, at the foot of a high range of hills. 
 
 On the morning of the 2d, they commenced passing over these hills. 
 About II o'clock, an Indian, who spoke a little English, came to them, 
 to whom they gave the name of Thursday, on account of their believing 
 that to be the day; although at the time, they were inclined to believe 
 that they had lost one day in their calculation of time. About 4 o'clock, 
 p. m., another came to them, who also spoke a little English. He fre- 
 quently used the words "jee," "who," and "huoy;" thereby showing 
 that he had been with previous emigrants. They traveled all that day, 
 and at dark encamped at a spring about halfway down the side of the 
 mountain. A fire broke out in the grass, soon after the camp fires had 
 been kindled, which would have consumed three of the wagons, but for 
 the assistance of these two Indians. The Indians were fed, and after the 
 evening meal they lay down by one of the fires, but rose in the night, 
 stealing a fine shirt and a yoke of oxen from Mr. Graves. 
 
 On the evening of October 5th, the emigrants again encamped on 
 Ogden's river, after a hard and exhausting drive. During the night the 
 Indians stole a horse from Mr. Graves. 
 
 On the morning of October 5th, they broke up their camp, and the 
 caravan proceeded on its way. Mr. Eddy went out hunting antelope, and 
 spent the forenoon in this manner, being frequently shot at by the In- 
 dians. At noon he came up with the company, which had stopped to take 
 some refreshments, at the foot of a very high and long sand-hill, covered 
 with rocks at the top. At length they commenced ascending the hill. All 
 the wagons had been taken up but Mr. Reed's, Mr. Pike's, and one of 
 Mr. Graves', the latter driven by John Snyder. Milton Elliot, who was 
 Mr. Reed's driver, took Mr. Eddy's team, which was on Mr. Reed's 
 wagon, and joined it to Mr. Pike's team. The cattle of this team, being 
 unruly, became entangled with that of Mr. Graves', driven by Snyder; 
 
 19
 
 and a quarrel ensued between him and Elliot. Snyder at length com- 
 menced quarreling with Mr. Reed, and made some threats of whipping 
 him, which threats he seemed about to attempt executing. Mr. Reed 
 then drew a knife, without, however, attempting to use it, and told 
 Snyder that he did not wish to have any difficulty with him. Snyder told 
 him that he would whip him, "any how;" and turning the butt of his 
 whip, gave Mr. Reed a severe blow upon the head, which cut it very 
 much. As Reed was in the act of dodging the blow, he stabbed Snyder a 
 little below the collar-bone, cutting off the first rib, and driving the knife 
 through the left lung. Snyder after this struck Mrs. Reed a blow upon 
 the head, and Mr. Reed two blows upon the head, the last one bringing 
 him down upon his knees. Snyder expired in about fifteen minutes. Mr. 
 Reed, although the blood was running down over his face and shoulders 
 from his own wounds, manifested the greatest anguish of spirit, and 
 threw the knife away from him into the river. Although Mr. Reed was 
 thus compelled to do as he did, the occurrence produced much feeling 
 against him; and in the evening Kiesburg proposed to hang him. To 
 this, however, he was probably prompted by a feeling of resentment, 
 produced by Mr. Reed having been mainly instrumental in his expul- 
 sion from one of the companies, while on the South Platte, for grossly 
 improper conduct. Mr. Eddy had two six-shooters, two double- 
 barreled pistols, and a rifle; Milton Elliot had one rifle, and a double- 
 barreled shot gtm; and Mr. Reed had one six-shooter, and a brace of 
 double-barreled pistols, and rifle. Thus Mr. Reed's comrades were 
 situated, and they determined that he should not die. Mr. Eddy, how- 
 ever, proposed that Mr. Reed should leave the camp. This was finally 
 agreed to, and he accordingly left the next morning; not, however, 
 before he had assisted in committing to the grave the body of the un- 
 happy young man. 
 
 On the morning of October 6th, they quitted the wretched scene 
 of mortal strife, and in the evening encamped on Ogden's river. 
 
 20
 
 Leaving camp on the morning of the yth, they proceeded on until 
 about eleven o'clock, when they found a letter from Mr. Reed, in- 
 forming them of a battle between one of the advanced companies and 
 the Indians. On the forenoon of this day, a number of arrows were shot 
 at Mr. Eddy and Mr. Pike, while out hunting for game, which the re- 
 duced amount of their provisions had by this time made it necessary to 
 seek. Upon arriving at their evening encampment, they found that 
 Hardcoop, a Belgian, who had given out, and had been carried in Kies- 
 burg's wagon for several days, was missing. Kiesburg professed not to 
 know what had become of him, but suspecting that there was some 
 wrong committed, a man was sent back upon a horse, for the old man. 
 He was found about five miles in the rear. Hardcoop stated that Kies- 
 burg had put him out of the wagon to perish. 
 
 On the morning of Oct. 8, they cacheds. part of Mr. Eddy's tools and 
 clothing, and Mr. Reed's wagon, and procured a lighter wagon of Mr. 
 Graves. At about nine o'clock they started. In about half an hour Hard- 
 coop came to Mr. Eddy, and informed him that Kiesburg had again put 
 him out of the wagon — that he was an old man, being more than sixty 
 years of age, and in addition to the infirmities usually attendant upon 
 one of his advanced years, was sick and worn down by the toils and hard- 
 ships of the way; and he concluded by requesting Mr. Eddy to carry him 
 in his wagon, as it was utterly impossible for him to travel on foot. Mr. 
 Eddy replied that they were then in the sand, and if he could in some 
 way get forward until they got out, he would do what he could. He told 
 me that he shuddered at the thought of seeing him left to perish by the 
 way; and that he knew that the picture of his bones bleaching in the 
 wilderness would haunt his memory to the latest day of his life. Hard- 
 coop replied that he would make an effort. The emigrants traveled on 
 until night. As soon as they got into camp, inquiry was made for Hard- 
 coop. Some boys who had been driving cattle stated that they had seen 
 him last sitting under a large bush of sage, or artemisia, exhausted and 
 
 21
 
 completely worn out. At this time his feet had swollen until they burst. 
 Mr. Eddy, having the guard during the fore part of the night, built a 
 large fire on the side of the hill, to guide Hardcoop to the camp, if it 
 was possible for him to come up. Milton Elliot had the guard during 
 the latter part of the night, and he kept up the fire for the same purpose. 
 The night was very cold; but when morning dawned, the unhappy Hard- 
 coop did not come up. Mrs. Reed, Milton Elliot, and Mr. Eddy then 
 went to Kiesburg, and besought him to return for the old man. This, 
 Kiesburg, in a very heartless and inhuman manner, refused to do. No 
 other persons, excepting Patrick Brinn and Mr. Graves having horses, 
 upon which he could be carried, they then applied to Patrick Brinn, who 
 replied that it was impossible, and that he must perish. Application 
 was then made to Graves, who said that he would not kill his horses to 
 
 22
 
 save the life of Hardcoop, and tliat he might die; and, in great anger, re- 
 quested that he might not be troubled any more upon the subject. 
 Milton Elliot, William Pike, and Mr. Eddy then proposed to go back 
 on foot and carry him up, but the company refused to wait. Being in an 
 Indian country, they were compelled to go forward with their traveling 
 companions. They arrived at the place where Applegate's cut-off leaves 
 the Ogden's river road, about 1 1 o'clock, a. m. of this day (Oct. 9); and 
 having halted for the purpose of resting and taking a little refreshment, 
 they again sought to induce Brinn and Graves to let them have horses to 
 go back for the unfortunate Hardcoop: the proposal was agam violently 
 repulsed. Thus disappointed and defeated in every effort, they were, at 
 last, under the dreadful necessity of relinquishing every hope, and of 
 leaving their aged and exhausted fellow-traveler to die a most miserable 
 death. He was from Antwerp, in Belgium — was a cutler by trade, and 
 had a son and daughter in his native city. He had come to the United 
 States for the purpose of seeing the country. He owned a farm near Cin- 
 cinnati, Ohio, and intended, after visiting California, to go back to 
 Ohio, sell his farm, and return to Antwerp, for the purpose of spending 
 with his children the evening of his days. 
 
 Proceeding from their 11 o'clock halt, they arrived at a bed of deep, 
 loose sand about 4 o'clock, p. m., and did not succeed in crossing it until 
 4 o'clock in the morning of Oct. 10, when they halted upon the place 
 where Mr. Salle, who had been killed by the Indians, had been buried. 
 His body had been dug up by the savages, and his bones, which had been 
 picked by wolves, were bleaching in the sun. Here they cached another 
 wagon, and at this place all of Graves' horses were stolen. At 10 o'clock 
 they drove on, and encamped at night on Ogden's river, with scarcely 
 any grass for their cattle, the water being very bad. 
 
 On the morning of the i ith George Donner, Jacob Donner, and Wol- 
 finger lost eighteen head of cattle. Graves, also, had a cow stolen by In- 
 dians. They encamped on the night of the nth on a small spot of very 
 
 23
 
 poor grass. The water here, also, was deficient in quantity and bad in 
 quahty. Brinn had a fine mare die in the mud. He asked Mr. Eddy to 
 help him to get her out. Mr. Eddy referred him to poor Hardcoop, and 
 refused. Several cattle had arrows shot at them during the night, but 
 none of them died in consequence. 
 
 On the morning of Oct. 12, the emigrants resumed their journey. 
 One of Mr. Eddy's oxen gave out during the day, and they left him. At 
 12 o'clock at night they encamped at the sinks of Ogden's river. At day- 
 light on the morning of the 13th they drove their cattle to grass, and put 
 them under a guard. The guard came in to breakfast, and in their absence 
 the Indians killed twenty-one head, including the whole of Mr. Eddy's 
 team, except one ox; and the whole of Wolfinger's, except one. Wol- 
 finger wished to cache his goods at the sinks, but the company refused to 
 wait. Rianhard and Spitzer, who were traveling with him, remained 
 behind to assist him. Three days afterward the two former came up to 
 the company at Truckee river, and said that the Indians came down from 
 the hills upon them, and after killing Wolfinger, drove them from the 
 wagons, which they burned, after taking the goods out. Wolfinger had 
 a considerable amount of money. I was informed by Mr. Eddy that 
 George Donner, with whom Rianhard subsequently traveled, told him 
 that Wolfinger had not died as stated — that this fact he learned from a 
 confession made by Rianhard a short time previous to his death; and that 
 he would make the facts public as soon as he arrived in the settlements. 
 Donner having perished, nothing further was ever known of the matter. 
 
 In mentioning these facts I am aware that I am anticipating some of 
 the events of this narrative, and I will only remark that Donner, Rian- 
 hard, and Spitzer having all been subsequently starved to death, it is 
 probable the facts will never be revealed. 
 
 Here Mr. Eddy cached every thing he had, except the clothing which 
 he and his family had on. On this morning they partook of their last 
 remaining mouthful of food. The Indians were upon the adjacent hills, 
 
 24
 
 looking down upon them, and absolutely laughing at their calamity. 
 The lock of Mr. Eddy's rifle had been broken some days before, and 
 the gun left. He could not obtain one, and had he been able to do so, it 
 would have been worse than insanity for him to have encountered the 
 Indians alone. Dejected and sullen, he took up about three pounds of 
 loaf sugar, put some bullets in his pocket, and stringing his powderhorn 
 upon his shoulders, took up his boy in his arms while his afflicted Elea- 
 nor carried their still more helpless infant, and in this most miserable 
 and forlorn plight, they set out once more on foot to make their way 
 through the pitiless wilderness. Trackless, snow-clad mountains inter- 
 cepted their progress, and seemed to present an impassable barrier to all 
 human succor: — mountains, the passage of which, with even the acces- 
 sories of emigrant wagons, and in the most pleasant season, would have 
 been a feat of no small difficulty. Without shoes — these having been 
 worn out by the jagged rocks — they had nothing to protect their feet 
 but moccasins, which were also so much worn as to be of little service. 
 Their painful and perilous way led over broken rocks, presenting acute 
 angles, or prickly pears, which alike lacerated their feet in the most 
 dreadful manner. Nature disputed their passage, and Heaven seemed 
 to be offended. They struggled on, however, with their precious charge, 
 without food or water, until 4 o'clock on the morning of the 14th, 
 when they arrived at a spring that jetted up a column of boiling hot 
 water, about twent\' feet high. It was situated in a region that had been 
 rent into millions of fragments by volcanic fires. The desolation was 
 such as to impress upon the mind the idea of expiring nature convulsed 
 with the throes and agonies of the last great and terrible day, or of an 
 angry Deity having taken vengeance upon a guilty world. Having ob- 
 tained some coffee from Mrs. Donner, Mr. Eddy put it into a pot, and 
 thus boiled it in the hot spring for the nourishment of his wife and chil- 
 dren, refusing to partake of it himself. He told me that he should never 
 
 23
 
 forget the inexpressible emotions he fek on seeing them thus revive. 
 Under such circumstances of extreme privation, how much more forci- 
 bly does the wasteful prodigality of the rich appear. Although he had 
 suffered the loss of all he possessed, yet had it pleased Heaven to have 
 spared him one blow, he might have still been comparatively happy. 
 But God, who is ever wise and just in the allotments of his providence, 
 had decreed otherwise. 
 
 About 9 o'clock the party left the Geyser Spring and traveled all that 
 day until sunset, over a road in no respect different from that of the 13th. 
 At this time Mr. Eddy's children were in great danger of perishing for 
 the want of water. He applied to Patrick Brinn, who he knew had ten 
 gallons, for a half pint to give to them. Brinn denied having any; but 
 this Mr. Eddy knew to be untrue, for he had himself filled Brinn' s cask 
 at the sinks of Ogden's river; Brinn finally admitted that he had water, 
 but said he did not know how far water was yet distant from them, and 
 he feared that his own family would require it. Mr. Eddy told him, with 
 an energy he never before felt, that he would have it or have Brinn' s life. 
 He immediately turned away from Brinn, and went in quest of the 
 water, and gave some to his children. 
 
 At sunset they arrived at an exceedingly difficult sand-ridge of ten 
 miles in width. They crossed it about 4 o'clock on the morning of the 
 15th, the company losing three yoke of cattle that died from fatigue. 
 
 Neither Mr. Eddy nor his wife had tasted food for two days and 
 nights, nor had the children any thing except the sugar with which he 
 left the sinks of Ogden's river. He applied to Mrs. Graves and Mrs. Brinn 
 for a small piece of meat for his wife and children, who were very faint. 
 They both refused. The emigrants remained in camp to rest the cattle. 
 The Indians killed some of them during the day. 
 
 Mr. Eddy procured a gun in the morning, and started to kill some 
 geese which he heard. In about two hours he returned with nine very fat 
 ones. Mrs. Brinn and Mrs. Graves congratulated him, and expressed the 
 
 26
 
 opinion that they were very fine, and wondered what he would do with 
 them. He invited them to help themselves, and they each took two. He 
 gave Kiesburg one. 
 
 Oct. i6th, early m the morning, they resumed their journey, and 
 commenced driving up Truckee river. Nothing of importance occurred 
 until Oct. 19th, about 10 o'clock, a. m., when they met Mr. C. F. Stan- 
 ton and two Indian vaqueros (cow-herds) of Capt. Sutter, one named 
 Lewis, and the other Salvadore. Mr. Stanton had flour and a little dried 
 meat, which he had procured for them. I omitted to state that on the 
 day they broke up their encampment on the Salt Lake, they dispatched 
 Messrs. Stanton and McCutcheon to go to Capt. Sutter's Fort for 
 relief. They drove on during the day, and Mr. Stanton and the vaqueros 
 continued on to some of the families one day in the rear. 
 
 October 20. — On this day Wm. Pike was killed by the accidental 
 discharge of a six-shooter in the hands of Wm. Foster. He died in one 
 hour: he was shot through in the back. 
 
 On the evening of October zzd, they crossed the Truckee river, the 
 forty-ninth and last time, in eighty miles. They encamped on the top of 
 a hill. Here nmeteen oxen were shot by an Indian, who put one arrow 
 in each ox. The cattle did not die. Mr. Eddy caught hmi in the act, and 
 fired upon him as he fled. The ball struck him between the shoulders, and 
 came out at the breast. At the crack of the rifle he sprung up about three 
 feet, and with a terrible yell fell down a bank into a bunch of willows. 
 
 On the mornmg of October 23d they resumed their journey, and con- 
 tinued traveling without any thing of importance occurring until Oc- 
 tober 28th at dark, when they encamped upon Truckee Lake, situated 
 at the foot of Fremont's Pass of the main chain of the Sierra Nevada. 
 The Pass is here 9838 feet high. 
 
 On the morning of Oct. 29th, they again continued their journey, and 
 went on within three miles of the top of the Pass, where they found the 
 snow about five feet deep. This compelled them to return to a cabin, 
 
 27
 
 which was situated one mile in advance of their camp of the previous 
 night. Here they remained in camp during the 30th. At dark their fellow- 
 travelers, Stanton, Graves, the Donners, and some others, came up. 
 
 On the morning of Oct. 31st the whole body again started to cross the 
 mountain. They succeeded in getting within three miles of the top of 
 the Pass. The snow had deepened to about ten feet. The night was bit- 
 terly cold; the wind howled through the trees, and the snow and hail 
 descended. Finding it utterly impossible to cross, they commenced re- 
 tracing their steps on the morning of November ist, and arrived at the 
 cabin about 4 o'clock. 
 
 28
 
 The Mountain Camp 
 
 THEY NOW SAW that it would be necessary to winter here. 
 On the morning of November 2d, Mr. Eddy commenced 
 building a cabin. When finished, the following day, he went 
 into it, with Mrs. Murphy and family, and Wm. Foster and 
 family, Nov. 3d. The snow at the place at which they were 
 encamped, was about one foot deep. A single ox constituted the whole 
 stock upon which the family were to winter. 
 
 Mr. Eddy commenced hunting on the 4th, and succeeded in killing 
 a prairie wolf, of which supper was made in the evening for all in the 
 cabin. On the 5th he succeeded in killing an owl, of which supper was 
 made. The Messrs. Graves, Donner, Dolan, and Brinn commenced 
 killing their cattle. Mr. Eddy also killed his ox. On the 6th, an ox be- 
 longing to Graves starved to death. He refused to save it for meat, but 
 upon Mr. Eddy's applying to him for it, he would not let him have it 
 for less than $25. This, Mr. Eddy told me, he had paid to the estate of 
 the deceased Graves since getting into the settlement. Mr. Eddy spent 
 the yth in hunting, but returned at night with a sad and desponding 
 heart, without any game. The three following days he assisted Graves in 
 putting up a cabin for himself and family, and Mrs. Reed and her family. 
 The day after, they cooked some of their poor beef. 
 
 On the 1 2th, Mr. Eddy, C. T. Stanton, Wm. Graves, Sen., Jay Fos- 
 dick, James Smith, Charles Burger, Wm. Foster, Antoine (a Spaniard), 
 John Baptiste, Lewis, Salvadore, Augustus Spitzer, Mary Graves, Sarah 
 Fosdick, and Milton Elliot, being the strongest of the party, started to 
 cross the mountains on foot. Mr. Eddy, in narrating the afflicting story, 
 said to me, that he could never forget the parting scene between himself 
 and family; but he hoped to get in and obtain relief, and return with the 
 means for their rescue. They started with a small piece of beef each; but 
 they had scarcely gone within three miles of the top of the Pass, when 
 
 29
 
 the snow, which was soft, and about ten feet deep, compelled them 
 again to return to the cabins, which they reached about midnight. 
 
 Nov. 13th, Mr. Eddy succeeded in killing two ducks, but no one 
 would let him have a gun without he gave them half he killed. The next 
 day, very faint from want of food, he resumed his hunting, and at length 
 came upon an enormously large grisly-bear track. Under other circum- 
 stances, he would have preferred seeing the tracks of one to seeing the 
 animal itself. But now, weak and faint as he was, he was eager to come 
 up with it. So fierce and powerful is this animal, and so great is its tenac- 
 ity of life, that the Indians almost uniformly avoid it. Even the most 
 daring and successful white hunters who are acquainted with its habits, 
 usually decline shooting at it, unless they are in a position that enables 
 them to spring up into a tree in the event of the first shot failing to 
 bring it down. This very seldom happens, unless the shot takes effect 
 in the brain. Lewis and Clarke give an account of a bear killed by their 
 party, which was not brought down until it had received five wounds, 
 any one of which would have immediately disabled any other animal. 
 Even then, one of their number very narrowly escaped with his life by 
 leaping down a precipice and plunging into the river. It invariably at- 
 tacks all persons whom it suddenly finds near it. If it be distant, a noise 
 will cause it to run away; but even in this case it uniformly makes battle 
 if wounded. With a full knowledge of its real character, and although he 
 had heard the stories of many exciting adventures, which were not the 
 less interesting because some of them were unreasonable, and others 
 even impossible, yet he now was exceedingly desirous of coming up with 
 an animal he would otherwise have been most careful to shun. He was 
 not long in finding the object of his search. At the distance of about 
 ninety yards he saw the bear, with its head to the ground, engaged in 
 digging roots. The beast was in a small skirt of prairie, and Mr. Eddy, 
 taking advantage of a large fir-tree near which he was at the moment, 
 kept himself in concealment. Having put into his mouth the only bullet 
 
 30
 
 
 T| 
 
 SHOOTING TUE BEAR 
 
 that was not in his gun, so that he might quickly reload in case of an 
 emergency, he deliberately fired. The bear immediately reared upon its 
 hind feet, and seeing the smoke from Mr. Eddy's gun, ran fiercely to- 
 ward him, with open jaws. By the time the gun was reloaded, the bear 
 had reached the tree, and, with a fierce growl, pursued Mr. Eddy round 
 it, who, running swifter than the animal, came up with it in the rear, 
 and disabled it by a shot in the shoulder, so that it was no longer able to 
 pursue him. He then dispatched the bear by knocking it on the head 
 with a club. Upon examination, he found that the first shot had pierced 
 its heart. He then returned to the Mountain Camp for assistance to 
 bring in his prize. 
 
 Graves and Eddy went out after the bear. On the way out Graves said 
 that he believed he should perish in the mountain; that he feared that 
 
 31
 
 the judgment of God would come upon him, for not assisting Hardcoop 
 up to the wagon, when Kiesburg put him out, and for driving Mr. Reed 
 out of camp. They, however, finally contrived to get in the bear after 
 dark. Mr. Eddy gave one half to Mr. Foster for the use of the gun. A 
 part of it was likewise given to Mr. Graves and to Mrs. Reed. The bear 
 weighed about 800 lbs. 
 
 Nov. 15th, Mr. Eddy killed a duck and one gray squirrel. Nothing of 
 importance occurred between this date and the 21st, beyond the fears of 
 starvation, and the increasing weakness of the emigrants. On this day, 
 six women and sixteen men, including Stanton and the two Indians, 
 made another effort to cross the mountain on foot. The morning was 
 fine; the wind from the northwest. They crossed the pass on the crust of 
 snow. Mr. Eddy measured the snow here, and found it to be twenty-five 
 feet deep. They encamped in a little valley on the west side of the moun- 
 tain, in six feet snow. They experienced great difficulty in kindling a 
 fire and in getting wood, in consequence of their extreme weakness. 
 Here Mr. Stanton and the two Indian boys refused to go any further, 
 in consequence of not being able to get along with seven mules belong- 
 ing to Capt. Sutter. Fully aware of their peril, Mr. Eddy exhausted all 
 his reasoning powers in a vain effort to induce them to proceed; urging 
 the imminent danger of their all perishing from starvation, and offering 
 to become responsible for the mules. He knew that Capt. Sutter would 
 rather lose the animals, than know that his fellow-beings had perished 
 in a foolish attempt to save them: but all persuasion was in vain. He 
 then proposed that they should compel the Indians to go forward. This 
 was objected to; and a good deal of angry feeling was exhibited by Mr. 
 Eddy, and those against whose plans he vainly remonstrated. Accord- 
 ingly, on the morning of the zid, faint and dispirited, they again com- 
 menced their return to their unhappy companions in peril. They arrived, 
 almost exhausted, at the cabins about midnight. The previous night 
 
 32
 
 had been most bitterly cold; but the weather of this day was clear, and 
 the sun shone brightly upon the snow. 
 
 The subsequent day the weather was clear, and the wind westerly. 
 Mrs. Eddy and her children were very weak, but exhibited great courage 
 and fortitude. 
 
 The weather on the 25th was very cloudy, and there was every appear- 
 ance of another snow-storm. The previous night had been intensely cold. 
 They proposed to make another effort the next day, if the weather would 
 admit of it; but the snow began to descend on the afternoon of the 25th, 
 in great flakes, and so thick that it was impossible to see beyond a few 
 feet. This continued with greater or less violence, and with but occas- 
 ional intermissions, until the 29th, when it ceased for a few hours. The 
 wind changed from northwest to west. By this time it was three feet 
 deep in the valley, which made it very difficult, in their feeble condition, 
 for the emigrants to get wood. On this day Patrick Brinn sold William 
 Foster a yoke of oxen, taking a gold watch and some other property in 
 security, and then killed the last ox he had. On the 30th it snowed very 
 heavily, and there was every appearance of its continuing. It was next to 
 impossible for any living thing without wings to get out. 
 
 December i. — The snow continued to fall as when it first com- 
 menced, and upon being measured was found to be from six to six and a 
 half feet deep. The wind blew in fearful and terrific blasts from the west. 
 The cold was intense: the wretched sojourners were nearly naked, and 
 almost without food: the snow had now become so deep as to make it 
 increasingly difficult to get wood for fuel. They were completely housed 
 up, and were cut off from all the world, and sympathies of life. The few 
 cattle that had lived up to this time, and the horses, and Capt. Sutter's 
 mules, were all supposed to be lost in the snow, and none now cherished 
 the least hope of ever finding them. 
 
 The snow ceased falling on the 3d; and although the weather con- 
 tinued cloudy all day, the atmosphere was sufficiently warm to thaw 
 
 33
 
 the snow a little. They measured the snow on the 5th, and found it seven 
 or eight feet deep. The sun shone again, clear and beautiful, causing 
 every thing, after the long and terrific storm, to assume its wonted aspect. 
 The cheering light once more rekindled hope in the hearts of the deso- 
 late travelers. 
 
 The morning of the 6th opened upon them fine and clear; and Messrs. 
 Stanton and Graves spent the day in manufacturing snow-shoes, pre- 
 paratory to making another effort to cross the mountains. Nothing had 
 been heard from the mules, and all, now, at least, saw that they ought to 
 have been killed for food, as Mr. Eddy proposed at the camp on the iid, 
 after their return from the mountain. Then Graves and others objected, 
 fearing that it might be necessary to pay for them. The morning of the 
 8th was fine and clear, although the previous night had been distress- 
 ingly cold. They found it very difficult to obtain enough wood to cook 
 their now nearly putrid beef, or even to keep them warm. The wind, 
 during the day, was from the southwest. 
 
 About II o'clock, a. m., Dec. 9, the wind commenced blowing from 
 the northwest, and their hearts almost died within them, as they again 
 saw the snow beginning to descend. Mr. Stanton sought to obtain some 
 food for himself and the two Indians, Lewis and Salvadore, but did not 
 obtain much. Patrick Brinn, on the day before this, took Spitzer into 
 his cabin in a state so weak from starvation, that he could not rise with- 
 out help. The snow continued to fall on the loth. On the 13th, it fell 
 faster than on any previous day; and in a short time was eight feet on a 
 level. The prospect became every moment more appalling. Death 
 seemed inevitably to be awaiting them. Messrs. Eddy, Stanton, Graves, 
 and others spent the day in preparing to make another attempt to cross 
 the mountains. On the 14th Baylis Williams died of starvation. He was 
 the first victim of this hapless company who thus expired, and their 
 feelings and reflections may, perhaps, be imagined, but can not be 
 described. 
 
 34
 
 Journey of a part)? from the Mountain Camp into the 
 Settlements of Cahfornia 
 
 ON the i6th of December, the following persons started 
 ^ on snow-shoes to cross the mountains: — Sarah Fos- 
 ■ dick, Marv Graves, WiHiam Foster, Sarah Foster, C.T. 
 W Stanton, WiHiam Graves, Jay Fosdick, Wm. Murphy, 
 Charles Burger, Harriet Pike, Lemuel Murphy, Patrick 
 Dolan, Antoine, Lewis, Salvadore, Mrs. McCutcheon, and William 
 Eddy. 
 
 The night previous to their departure was exceedingly cold. Their 
 friends were in a state of extreme suffering and want. The hollow cheek, 
 the wasted form, and the deep sunken eye of his wife, Mr. Eddy told 
 me he should never forget. "Oh," said he, "the bitter anguish of my 
 wrung and agonized spirit, when I turned away from her; and yet no tear 
 would Row to relieve my suffering." The wind was from the southeast, 
 and the weather comparatively fair and pleasant. William Murphy 
 found It to be impossible to get along, and he finally turned back during 
 the day. Ultimately, Charles Burger was missed, and it was supposed 
 that he had gone back. They struggled on until night, and encamped 
 at the head of Truckee lake, about four miles from the mountain. The 
 day following they resumed their painful and distressing journey, and 
 after travelina all day, encamped on the west side of the main chain of 
 the Sierra Nevada, about six miles from their last camp. They were 
 without tents. The wind, on this and the previous day, was from the 
 southeast. On the i8th they traveled five miles, and encamped. Mr. 
 Stanton became snow-blind during the day, and fell back, but came up 
 after they had been in camp an hour. 
 
 As several instances of snow-blindness will be mentioned in the sub- 
 sequent progress of this narrative, I will here observe that it is produced 
 by the glare of the snow, combined with great fatigue. It may be pre- 
 
 35
 
 vented, or its effects obviated, by the use of either dark green glasses or 
 black handkerchiefs. Of these they had none. 
 
 December 19. — Although the wind was from the northwest, yet 
 the snow which had fallen on the previous night, thawed a little. Mr. 
 Stanton again fell behind, in consequence of blindness. He came up 
 about an hour after they were encamped. The wind on the 20th was 
 from the northeast. In the morning they resumed their journey, and 
 guided by the sun, as they had hitherto been, they traveled until night. 
 Mr. Stanton again fell behind. The wind next day changed to south- 
 west, and the snow fell all day. They encamped at sunset, and about dark 
 Mr. Stanton came up. They resumed their journey on the zzd, Mr. 
 Stanton came into camp in about an hour, as usual. That night they 
 consumed the last of their little stock of provisions. They had limited 
 themselves to one ounce at each meal, since leaving the mountain camp, 
 and now the last was gone. They had one gun, but they had not seen a 
 living creature. The weather was clear and pleasant during the day, and 
 the wind northeast. The weather was always clear when the wind was 
 east or northeast. A south and southwest wind always brought a snow- 
 storm. 
 
 December 23. — During this day Mr. Eddy examined a little bag for 
 the purpose of throwing out something, with a view to getting along 
 with more ease. In doing this, he found about half a pound of bear's 
 meat to which was attached a paper upon which his wife had written in 
 pencil, a note signed "Your own dear Eleanor," in which she requested 
 him to save it for the last extremity, and expressed the opinion that it 
 would be the means of saving his life. This was really the case, for with- 
 out it, he must subsequently have perished. On the morning of this 
 day Mr. Stanton remained at the camp-fire, smoking his pipe. He re- 
 quested them to go on, saying that he would overtake them. The snow 
 was about fifteen feet deep. Mr. Stanton did not come up with them. 
 On the morning of the 24th, they resumed their melancholy journey, 
 
 36
 
 and after traveling about a mile, they encamped to wait for their com- 
 panion. They had nothing to eat during the day. Mr. Stanton did not 
 come up. The snow fell all night, and increased one foot in depth. They 
 now gave up poor Stanton for dead. A party that subsequently returned 
 from the settlement, headed by Mr. Fallen, found his remains at the 
 place where they had left him. His pistols, pipe, and some other articles, 
 were found by him; but his body was in a great measure consumed by 
 beasts of prey. 
 
 Mr. Stanton was from Syracuse, New York, and had been a merchant 
 at that place. He was kind and benevolent in his feelings, and gentle- 
 manly in his deportment and manners. He had, as has been stated in a 
 previous part of this narrative, been sent on in company with Mr. Mc- 
 Cutcheon hom the Great Salt Lake, to obtain supplies from the settle- 
 ments. He traveled several hundred miles through hostile Indians, across 
 deserts and over lofty mountains. He arrived at Capt. Sutter's Fort 
 about the first of October, and from this generous and noble man, ob- 
 tained supplies for his suffering fellow-travelers. Furnished with seven 
 mules loaded with provisions, and two Indian vaqueros, he returned, 
 and met them at the crossing of Truckee river, about halfway between 
 Pyramid Lake and Truckee Lake — their route having led them within 
 ten miles of the former. Had it not been for the disinterested sympathy 
 of Mr. Stanton for the unfortunate emigrants, all must have perished 
 before the first party sent out to their assistance reached them. 
 
 Before he left Capt. Sutter's Fort to return to their assistance, he 
 left a vest in charge of that gentleman, in one of the pockets of which a 
 small package was subsequently found, directed to Capt. Sutter, with a 
 memorandum as follows: "Capt. Sutter will send the within, in the 
 event of my death, to Sydney Stanton, Syracuse, N. Y." Inclosed was a 
 diamond breast-pin, with a note from his sister, addressed to him at 
 Chicago, Illinois, from which the following is an extract: "Sidney 
 has requested me to do up your breast-pin, and send it to you. As you 
 
 37
 
 perceive, I have done it up in a newspaper May God bless you, 
 
 my dear brother. A. S." 
 
 The only entire article on the piece of newspaper, was the following 
 translation for the True Sun, from the French: — 
 
 "THE WITHERED FLOWER. 
 
 "Ol dying flower, that droop'st alone, 
 Erewhile the valley's pride. 
 Thy withered leaves, disordered strown. 
 Rude winds sweep far and wide. 
 "The scythe of Time, whose stroke we mourn, 
 Our common doom shall bring. 
 From thee a faded leaf is torn. 
 From us a joy takes wing. 
 "As life flies by, oh! who but feels 
 Some sense, some charm decay? 
 E'en every fleeting moment steals 
 Some treasured dream away. 
 "Some secret blight each hope destroys, 
 Till at length we ask in grief. 
 If, than life's ephemeral joys. 
 
 The floweret's be more brief." 
 
 Every one who understands a woman's heart, who has enjoyed a sis- 
 ter's love and confidence, and who observes the peculiar appropriate- 
 ness of the poetry to the circumstances then surrounding this affection- 
 ate girl, will see in a moment that the paper was selected by her on that 
 account. 
 
 On Christmas Day the painful journey was again continued, and after 
 traveling two or three miles, the wind changed to the southwest. The 
 snow beginning to fall, they all sat down to hold a council for the pur- 
 pose of determining whether to proceed. All the men but Mr. Eddy re- 
 
 38
 
 fused to go foru'ard. The women and Mr. Eddy declared they would go 
 through or perish. Many reasons were urged for returning, and among 
 others the fact that they had not tasted food for two days, and this after 
 having been on an allowance of one ounce per meaL It was said that they 
 must all perish for want of food. At length, Patrick Dolan proposed that 
 they should cast lots to see who should die, to furnish food for those who 
 survived. Mr. Eddy seconded the motion. William Foster opposed the 
 measure. Mr. Eddy then proposed that two persons should take each a 
 six-shooter, and fight until one or both were slam. This, too, was ob- 
 jected to. Mr. Eddy at length proposed that they should resume their 
 journey, and travel on till some one died. This was finally agreed to, and 
 they staggered on for about three niiles, when they encamped. They had 
 a small hatchet with them, and after a great deal of difficulty they suc- 
 ceeded in making a large fire. About lo o'clock on Christmas night, a 
 most dreadful storm of wind, snow, and hail, began to pour down upon 
 their defenseless heads. While procuring wood for the fire, the hatchet, 
 as if to add another drop of bitterness to a cup already overflowing, flew 
 from the handle, and was lost in unfathomable snows. About ii o'clock 
 that memorable night, the storm increased to a perfect tornado, and in 
 an instant blew away every spark of fire. Antoine perished a little before 
 this from fatigue, frost, and hunger. The company, except Mr. Eddy 
 and one or two others, were now engaged in alternatingly imploring 
 God for mercy and relief. That night's bitter cries, anguish, and de- 
 spair, never can be forgotten. Mr. Eddy besought his companions to get 
 down upon blankets, and he would cover them up with other blankets; 
 urging that the falling snow would soon cover them, and they could 
 thus keep warm. Li about two hours this was done. Before this, how- 
 ever, Mr. Graves was relieved by death from the horrors of that night. 
 Mr. Eddy told him that he was dying. He replied that he did not 
 care, and soon expired. They remained under the blankets all that night, 
 until about lo o'clock, a. m., of the 26th, when Patrick Dolan, becom- 
 
 39
 
 ing deranged, broke away from them, and getting out into the snow, 
 it was with great difficulty that Mr. Eddy again got him under. They 
 held him there by force until about 4 o'clock, p. m., when he quietly 
 and silently sunk into the arms of death. He was from Dublin, Ireland. 
 Lemuel Murphy became deranged on the night of the 26th, and talked 
 much about food. On the morning of the 27th, Mr. Eddy blew up a 
 powder-horn, in an effort to strike fire under the blankets. His face and 
 hands were much burned. Mrs. McCutcheon and Mrs, Foster were also 
 burned, but not seriously. About 4 o'clock p. m., the storm died away, 
 and the angry clouds passed off. Mr. Eddy immediately got out from 
 under the blankets, and in a short time succeeded in getting fire into a 
 large pine tree. His unhappy companions then got out; and having 
 broken off boughs, they put them down, and lay upon them before the 
 fire. The flame ascended to the top of the tree, and burned off great 
 numbers of dead limbs, some of them as large as a man's body; but such 
 was their weakness and indifference, that they did not seek to avoid 
 them at all. Although the limbs fell thick, they did not strike. 
 
 On the morning of December 28th, they found themselves too weak 
 to walk. The sensation of hunger was not so urgent, but it was evident 
 to all that some substantial nourishment was necessary to recruit their 
 bodies. The horrible expedient of eating human flesh was now again 
 proposed. This Mr. Eddy declined doing, but his miserable compan- 
 ions cut the flesh from the arms and legs of Patrick Dolan, and roasted 
 and ate it, averting their faces from each other, and weeping. 
 
 They gave some of this horrible food to Lemuel Murphy, with the 
 hope that he would revive; but he continued to grow weaker, until at 
 length the lamp of life, which had been flickering so long, went out, and 
 the darkness of death covered him forever. 
 
 They were all reduced to mere skeletons. The skin upon the face, 
 particularly, was drawn tight over the bones; the eyes were sunken, and 
 had a fierce and wild expression. Perhaps the eye of a famishing tiger 
 
 40
 
 would have something of the same expression. But as death came on, 
 the countenance became more settled and calm; the eyes retreated still 
 farther back into the head, losing their fierceness; and the whole features 
 assummg, in some cases, a sort of fixedness, while in others they ex- 
 hibited a calm and gentle repose, illuminated by the expiring rays of 
 departing reason; like the surface of a lake, no longer lashed by the 
 tempest into foaming surges; but reflecting from its bosom the last 
 rays of the setting sun, indicating that night will soon come on, and 
 cover it with darkness. In other cases, however, some time after this, 
 the expression of the countenance was horrid, ghastly, and restless. 
 The eye was wild and fierce, up to the very moment when its fire was 
 quenched in death forever. 
 
 To this place they gave the name of "The Camp of Death." The hor- 
 rors of that awful scene exceed the power of language to describe, or of 
 imagination to conceive. Besides starvation, they had to contend also 
 with trackless mountains and almost unfathomable snows. The wind 
 and hail had beaten upon them with a fury that seemed to indicate that 
 the Almighty had let loose the elements upon their devoted heads. The 
 deep stupor into which their calamities had plunged the most of them, 
 often changed to despair. Each seemed to see inevitable destruction, 
 and expressed in moans, sighs, and tears, the gloomy thoughts over 
 which their minds were brooding. Mr. Eddy dissembled his own fears, 
 and sought, bv proffered consolations and an unmoved countenance, 
 to inspire them with hope and courage. He found it mipossible to dis- 
 sipate the terror of the men. With his female companions there was less 
 difficulty. Some of them, indeed, exhibited a want of fortitude; but the 
 most of them manifested a constancy and courage, a coolness, presence 
 of mind, and patience, which he had not, previous to entering upon this 
 journey, suspected to form any part of female character. He had often 
 occasion to remark the fortitude with which the most of the females 
 sustained the sad reverses by which they were overwhelmed on the way, 
 
 41
 
 The difficulties, dangers, and misfortunes which frequently seemed to 
 prostrate the men, called forth the energies of the gentler sex, and gave 
 to them a sublime elevation of character, which enabled them to abide 
 the most withering blasts of adversity with unshaken firmness. She who 
 had been, while in prosperity, all weakness and dependence; clinging 
 around her husband as the ivy does to the oak, now suddenly rose to be 
 his comforter. 
 
 On the morning of December 29th they resumed their journey from 
 "The Camp of Death." They had been guided heretofore, partly by 
 the sun, and partly by the two Indian vaqueros, Lewis and Salvadore, 
 but now Lewis, who spoke a little English, informed them that they 
 were lost, and that he was, therefore, unable to guide them. They pro- 
 ceeded on, however, in the best way they could, until night, when they 
 encamped. Mr. Eddy had now been a long time without food. The 
 half-pound of roasted bear meat, which his "own dear Eleanor" had, 
 by stealth, put into the bottom of his sack, had preserved his life up to 
 this moment. And even now he felt no hunger — that almost intolerable 
 and maddening sensation had long since passed away. His feelings were 
 peculiar, but altogether indescribable. His companions told him that 
 he was dying. He did not, however, believe them; and so informed them. 
 But he felt that he was sinking, and that there was a rapid breaking up 
 of his energies, which, under God, had hitherto saved his own life and 
 that of his companions. Although he felt no hunger, his body imperi- 
 ously demanded nourishment. Such were the circumstances under which 
 he made his first cannibal meal. He experienced no loathing or disgust, 
 but his reason, which he thought was never more unclouded, told him 
 that it was a horrid repast. The hard hand of necessity was upon him, 
 and he was compelled to eat or die. 
 
 This night passed away as trancjuilly as could have been expected of 
 persons situated as they were. Mr. Eddy talked with his unfortunate 
 fellow-travelers of the means by which they would save themselves. He 
 
 42
 
 sought to reanimate them with courage, and to inspire them with hope, 
 by speaking of their dehverance as certain. More than one vowed ven- 
 geance upon Hastings, for having decoyed them into his cut-off. Their 
 feehngs will perhaps be understood by those whom Jesse Applegate, in 
 a similar manner, decoyed into the "Applegate cut-off." 
 
 On the morning of December 30th they resumed their journey, their 
 feet bemg so swollen that they had burst open, and, although they were 
 wrapped in rags and pieces of blankets, yet it was with great pain and 
 difficulty that they made any progress. They encamped, late in the 
 afternoon, upon the high bank of a very deep canon. From this point 
 they could distmctly see a valley which they believed to be the valley 
 of the Sacramento. 
 
 December 31st was spent in crossing the cafion, and although they 
 toiled hard during the entire day, they effected no more than the cross- 
 ing. Every foot of that day's struggle was marked with the blood from 
 their feet. They encamped that night on the banks of the caiaon. Here 
 Mr. Eddy saw that poor Jay Fosdick would not survive much longer; 
 and reminded him that his end was nigh, if he did not summon up all 
 his energies. 
 
 On this night they ate the last flesh of their deceased companions. 
 One of the company then proposed that they should kill the two Indian 
 boys, Lewis and Salvadore, who, it will be remembered, met them with 
 Mr. Stanton, with provisions for their relief; Mr. Eddy remonstrated, 
 but finding that the deed was resolved upon, he determined to prevent 
 it by whatever means God and nature might enable him to use. Desiring, 
 however, to avoid extremities, if possible, he secretly informed Lewis 
 of the fate that awaited him and his companion, and concluded by ad- 
 vising him to fly. The expression of the face of Lewis, never can be for- 
 gotten; he did not utter one word in reply, but stood in mute astonish- 
 ment. In about two minutes his features settled into Indian sullenness, 
 and he turned away to fly from the scene of danger. Their complicated 
 
 43
 
 sufferings were of a character that rendered it impossible for them to 
 judge accurately, of the right or wrong of many actions. But this was a 
 deed which nothing could justify or excuse. Had it been proposed to 
 cast lots for the purpose of determining who should die, and the lot had 
 fallen upon these Indians, or upon Mr. Eddy, he would have submitted 
 to it without a murmur or complaint. But the thing proposed, he 
 could not but regard with feelings of abhorrence. His very soul recoiled 
 at the thought. 
 
 January i, 1847. — They made their New Year's dinner of the strings 
 of their snow-shoes. Mr. Eddy also ate an old pair of moccasins. They 
 struggled on until night, and encamped in six feet snow. On the morn- 
 ing of the following day they resumed their journey, their feet being 
 still greatly swollen and cracked, and encamped at night in three feet 
 snow. That night they took some old boots and shoes, and having 
 slightly crisped them in the fire, made an evening meal of them. 
 
 They staggered on during the 3rd, and encamped at night on bare 
 ground, the snow, however, being still in patches. The whole face of 
 the country had gradually changed; the hills had become less and less 
 rugged, and they were now encamped in an open oak grove. They had 
 nothing to eat during this long and melancholy night. Mr. Eddy saw 
 that death was beginning to grapple with poor Jay Fosdick. He had been 
 sinking for some time; but now it was evident that he was drawing very 
 near to the close of his sorrowful pilgrimage. He also saw that they 
 would all very soon perish, if they did not obtain relief. He therefore 
 determined secretly to leave the camp, and go on with a gun, hoping, 
 now they had left the snows behind, that he would find some game. 
 If successful, it was his purpose to return and share with his companions. 
 If successful, he might save himself and them; if otherwise, he could 
 but die. Finally, he determined to give the company some hint of his 
 plans. They at once comprehended his purpose, and the women be- 
 
 44
 
 sought him not to leave them; assuring him that their only hope for 
 hfe, was in his continuing with them. 
 
 On the morning of the 4th, Mary Graves, who had more strength 
 than any of the other women, resoh-ed that she would go with him or 
 perish. Mrs. Pike threw her arms around his neck, imploring him, by 
 ever\' thing to which she could appeal, not to leave them. The other 
 women added their tears and entreaties to those of Mrs. Pike. But to re- 
 main with them was to die. To go forward might possibly be the means 
 of their preservation. Although they had seen no game nor a living 
 thing since thev had left the Mountain Camp, they were now in an 
 open country, and this circumstance, although trifling in itself, was 
 one that afix)rded him a hope. Those who have not been in situations 
 in which they were exposed to extreme peril, can form no correct con- 
 ception of the value which sometimes attaches to the simplest object. 
 They can never know with \\-hat desperate eagerness and energy one 
 seizes upon the slightest means capable of mitigating the rigor of a fate 
 into which their circumstances seem about to plunge them. 
 
 Mary Graves and Mr. Eddy accordingly set forward. They had not 
 proceeded above two miles, when they came to where a deer had lain 
 the previous night. In an instant a feeling took possession of his heart 
 to which it had been a stranger. He knew not what were all the elements 
 of his emotions; but gratitude to God, and a hope in his providence 
 were at least two. Tears immediately began to flow down his haggard 
 cheeks. He turned round and saw Mary weeping like a child. As soon 
 as his choked utterance would admit of his speaking, he said, "Mary, 
 don't you feel like praying?" "Oh, yes," she replied with sobs and tears, 
 "I do, but I never prayed in my life! Do you pray?" He replied that he 
 knew not how to pray. But in an instant they were both upon their 
 knees, and by a feeling natural to the unfortunate, their hearts were 
 turned toward heaven. Surrounded by danger, and not having a prayer- 
 book, they addressed themselves to the invisible Being in terms neither 
 
 45
 
 studied nor measured, but which were the spontaneous outburstings 
 of hearts that felt that nothing but the God who maintains the order of 
 the universe could afford them succor in this their last and most fearful 
 extremity. They then rose from their knees, experiencing the cheering 
 influence of hope. Their vows were solemn and their prayers fervent 
 and impassioned. There was in that first prayer a luxury, the remem- 
 brance of which was delightful. In all Mr. Eddy's anguish of spirit upon 
 this most disastrous road he had not shed a tear. Some had wept and 
 prayed; others had wept and cursed Almighty God for their hard fate. 
 He had never felt like cursing God, or blaming his Providence; but he 
 had not wept. The fountains of his tears were as dry as many of the 
 deserts over which they had passed, and upon which they had wrecked 
 their little fortunes. Tears would have relieved the agony of a spirit 
 which, although not disposing him to blaspheme his Maker, did not 
 incline him to submit to the chastisement of his hand. But now he had 
 wept and prayed, and rose from his knees, feeling an humble but not 
 presumptuous trust, that God would fill his mouth with food, and his 
 heart with gladness. They had not proceeded far before they saw a large 
 buck, about eighty yards distant. Mr. Eddy raised his rifle, and for 
 some time tried to bring it to bear upon the deer; but such was his ex- 
 treme weakness that he could not. He breathed a little, changing his 
 manner of holding the gun, and made another effort. Again his weakness 
 prevented him from being able to hold upon it. He heard a low and 
 suppressed sobbing behind him, and turning round saw Mary Graves 
 weeping and in great agitation, her head bowed, and her hands upon her 
 face. Alarmed lest she should cause the deer to run, Mr. Eddy begged 
 her to be quiet, which she did, after exclaiming, "O, I am afraid you 
 will not kill it!" He brought the gun up to his face the third time, and 
 elevating the muzzle above the deer, let it descend, until he saw the ani- 
 mal through the sights, when the rifle cracked. The deer bounded up 
 about three feet, and then stood still. Mary immediately wept aloud, 
 
 46
 
 exclaiming, "O, merciful God, you have missed it!" Mr. Eddy assured 
 her that he had not; that he knew the rifle was upon it the moment of 
 firmg; and that, in addition to this, the deer had dropped his tail between 
 its legs, which this animal always docs when wounded. They were at the 
 moment standing upon a precipice of about thirty feet, a snow-bank 
 beina at the bottom. In a short time the deer ran. Mr. Eddy immediately 
 sprane; down the precipice, and in a moment Mary followed him. The 
 deer ran about two hundred vards, and fell. Mr. Eddy got to it while it 
 was yet alive, and taking it by the horns, cut its throat with a pen-knife. 
 Before this was done, Mary was at his side, and they drank the blood 
 together as it flowed from the expiring beast. This gave to them a little 
 strength, and with their faces all covered with blood, they sat down to 
 rest a little. In a short time they rolled the deer near by to a spot where 
 they made a fire. That night they ate the entrails; and with their hearts 
 glowing with gratitude to the Giver of all good, they enjoyed a degree 
 of refreshing slumber to which they had long been strangers. 
 
 Their dreams were wont to tantalize and mock them with rich and 
 varied food, prepared in the most inviting manner. But this night they 
 had made an abundant meal upon the entrails of the deer — a meal that 
 they enjoyed more than any they had ever eaten; and their rest was not 
 broken by dreams that insulted their misfortunes. 
 
 They rose on the morning of the 5th of January, filled with renewed 
 hopes, and deeply impressed with the sublime idea of a Great and Good 
 Being extending a protecting aegis over the unfortunate. 
 
 Several times during the night of the 4th, Mr. Eddy had fired his 
 rifle for the purpose of informing his companions where they were. Jay 
 Fosdick, who, it will be remembered, was expected to die, was about a 
 mile back. He had lain down, unable to proceed any further; and his 
 wife was with him. Upon hearing Mr. Eddy's rifle crack, at the time of 
 his killing the deer, he exclaimed, in a feeble voice — "There! Eddy 
 has killed a deer. Now, if I can only get to him, I shall live." William 
 
 47
 
 Foster and wife, Mrs. Pike, and Mrs. McCutcheon, were encamped 
 about halfway between Mr. Eddy's camp, and the place at which Mr. 
 Fosdick and his wife were. One of the emigrants, believing that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Fosdick had died during the previous night, sent a person back to 
 the place, with instructions to get Mrs. Fosdick' s heart for breakfast; 
 and to be sure to secure her jewelry, and her husband's watches and 
 money. The person sent for this purpose met Mrs. Fosdick on the way 
 to Mr. Eddy's camp. The individual thus sent turned about, and came 
 on with her to Mr. Eddy's camp; who gave them some of the roasted 
 liver of the deer, and upon their returning to the other camp, he re- 
 quested that all should come to him, and partake of his venison. 
 
 Mrs. Fosdick had been with her husband during the previous night, 
 which was bitterly cold; and after his death, she rolled his body in the 
 only blanket they possessed, and laid herself down upon the ground, 
 desiring to die, and hoping that she would freeze to death. The scenes 
 surrounding her were rendered still more terrible by the horror inspired 
 by the darkness of the night; and she prayed, and in a certain sense, 
 struggled for death, during the whole of its heavily-passing hours. But 
 the return of the morning's light brought with it an instinctive love of 
 life, and she now proposed to go back to the body of her husband, and 
 for the last time kiss his lips, then cold and silent in death. Two indi- 
 viduals accompanied her, and when they arrived at the body, they, not- 
 withstanding the remonstrances, entreaties, and tears of the afflicted 
 widow, cut out the heart and liver, and severed the arms and legs of her 
 departed husband. 
 
 Mrs. Fosdick took up a little bundle she had left, and returned with 
 these two persons to one of the camps, where she saw an emigrant thrust 
 the heart through with a stick, and hold it in the fire to roast. Unable to 
 endure the horrible sight of seeing literally devoured a heart that had 
 fondly and ardently loved her until it had ceased to throb, she turned 
 away, and went to another camp, sick and almost blinded by the spectacle. 
 
 48
 
 Mr. Eddy cut up the deer, dried it before his fire, and then divided 
 it with his unhappy companions in misfortune and peril, of both camps. 
 
 The day having thus passed away, on the mornmg of the 6th of Jan- 
 uary they all started together. They went down to the north branch of 
 the American fork of the Sacramento, and after crossing it, encamped 
 for the night. They resumed their journey the next morning, and being 
 unable to proceed dov.-n the river, they commenced climbing a very 
 high and difficult mountain. The sides were very steep, and they pulled 
 themselves up the rocks, by laying hold of shrubs growing in crevices. 
 There were many places in which, had these given way, they would have 
 been precipitated hundreds of feet below. 
 
 Their feet were greatly bruised, and so swollen that they had literally 
 burst open, and were bleeding so much, that the fragments of blankets 
 with which they were bound up, were saturated with blood. But a merci- 
 ful God assisted them in a wonderful manner; and after struggling all 
 day, they reached the top, where they encamped. The day was fine, and 
 although the minds of the company were singularly altered by untold 
 sufferings, yet the most perfect tranquillity reigned among them, as 
 calms are said sometimes to precede the most desolatmg storms. Mr. 
 Eddy lamented the loss of their unfortunate companions, but carefully 
 avoided making any allusion to recent revolting events. They sat down 
 upon the ground to their evening repast, and consumed the last of their 
 venison. 
 
 Soon after, Eddy and Foster were apart from the company. Despond- 
 ency had again seized upon the mind of the latter. He had all along 
 exhibited evidences of a partial, and, perhaps, perfect insanity, caused 
 by mental anxiety, hardships, and perils. He had also shown, as a conse- 
 quence of this, a total want of energ\', making no eftort, rendering no 
 assistance in making fires, and seeming to look to Mr. Eddy, and to 
 depend upon him — as, indeed, did all the company — to guide and save 
 the lives of the party. He doubted not that they were approaching the 
 
 49
 
 last critical hour of their fate. Suffering and danger had rendered him 
 selfish to the last degree; and seeming firmly to believe that the sacrifice 
 of the lives of some of their companions was necessary to the preserva- 
 tion of the others, he proposed to kill Mrs. McCutcheon, alleging that 
 she was but a nuisance, and could not keep up. Mr. Eddy remonstrated, 
 and told him that she was a wife and a mother, and was with them, help- 
 less and without protection, unless she found it in them; and finally 
 informed him, with much sternness in his manner, that she should not 
 die. Foster then proposed that they should kill Mary Graves and Mrs. 
 Fosdick, as they had no children. Mr. Eddy told him that he would in- 
 form them of his purpose. This he did in the presence of the company. 
 Foster said he did not care, he could handle Mr. Eddy. Seeing that he 
 was lost to all reason, and perfectly insane, and firmly believing that 
 they would all fall a sacrifice to his insane appetite, unless the further 
 development of this spirit of selfishness was checked, Mr. Eddy said, 
 "Perhaps you intend to make a victim of me. If this is so, we will pro- 
 ceed to settle the question." Seizing a large club, and striking it across 
 a log, to ascertain whether it would break, Mr. Eddy threw it to him, 
 and bade him defend himself. At the same time he advanced upon him 
 with a knife which had belonged to Jay Fosdick, as rapidly as he could 
 in his weak and feeble condition, with the intention of taking his life. 
 Having gotten almost within striking distance, with his arm raised to 
 strike a fatal blow, he was seized by Mary Graves, Mrs. Pike, Mrs. 
 McCutcheon, and Mrs. Fosdick, and thrown down. The knife was then 
 taken away from him. He then told Foster, who stood apparently 
 powerless, that he would kill him if he ever again manifested the slight- 
 est inclination to take the life of any of the party; and that if it should be- 
 come necessary to take life, in order to the preservation of other lives, 
 one of them should be the victim; and that this point should be deter- 
 mined by fighting, since Foster had shown a determination not to cast 
 lots, which was the only just method of deciding upon the victim. 
 
 50
 
 Foster might easily, had he possessed the energy, have dispatched Eddy 
 at the time when the females, whose hves he had saved, by resolutely 
 resisting Mr. Foster's purpose, had thrown him down. But devoid of 
 energy', and conscious, perhaps, although he could not have been sane, 
 that he had meditated a wicked act, he cowered before Eddy's look. 
 
 On the other hand, Mr. Eddy was conscious of doing right; and, in 
 addition to this, his was a courage animated by desperation. He had 
 left behind him in the Sierra Nevada a most beloved and affectionate 
 wife, and two young children, whom he tenderly loved. He had been 
 unable to take them out, and was now staggering into the settlements 
 for the purpose of obtaining the means of rescuing them. He saw that 
 Foster was evidently deranged, and therefore a dangerous man to be 
 with, in the circumstances in which they were then placed; and while 
 he was willing to share the risk of life incident to their situation, yet, 
 the ghastly images of his famine-stricken wife and children appealed to 
 every generous feeling of his nature, to require of others a similar and 
 equal risk. He might have reached the settlements sooner, perhaps, by 
 consenting to the death of his companions; but had he done this, and 
 thereby have saved his wife and children, the remembrance of the price 
 paid would have embittered every subsequent moment of his miserable 
 being. 
 
 The morning of Jan. 8th they resumed their journey from the "Camp 
 of Strife," order being re-established. They had not proceeded above 
 two miles, when they came into a small patch of snow, where they 
 found the tracks of Lewis and Salvadore, for the first time since Mr. 
 Eddy informed them of their danger. Foster immediately said that he 
 would follow them, and kill them if he came up with them. They had 
 not proceeded more than two miles when they came upon the Indians, 
 lying upon the ground, in a totally helpless condition. They had been 
 without food for eight or nine days, and had been four days without 
 fire. They could not, probably, have lived more than two or three hours; 
 
 51 
 
 u: OF ILL lib:
 
 nevertheless, Eddy remonstrated against their being killed. Foster af- 
 firmed that he was compelled to do it. Eddy refused to see the deed 
 consummated, and went on about two hundred yards, and halted. Lewis 
 was told that he must die; and was shot through the head. Salvadore 
 was dispatched in the same manner immediately after. Mr. Eddy did 
 not see who fired the gun. The flesh was then cut from their bones and 
 dried. Mr. Foster and wife, and Mrs. Pike encamped at "The Place of 
 Sacrifice." Mary Graves, Mrs. Fosdick, Mrs. McCutcheon, and Mr. 
 Eddy encamped about two hundred yards in advance. They never en- 
 camped again with Foster; and some one of their number was always 
 awake, to avoid being surprised. 
 
 Mr. Eddy made his supper upon grass. Although they saw deer in 
 great numbers every day, and sometimes very near them, yet such was 
 the extreme weakness to which Mr, Eddy was reduced, that it was im- 
 possible for him to take accurate aim at them. He staggered like a 
 drunken man; and when he came to a fallen tree, though no more than 
 a foot high, he had to stoop down, put his hands upon it, and get over 
 it by a sort of rolling motion. They were under the necessity of sitting 
 down to rest about every quarter of a mile. The slightest thing caused 
 them to stumble and fall. They were almost reduced to the helpless- 
 ness of little children in their first essays to walk. The women would 
 fall and weep like infants, and then rise and totter along again. 
 
 January 9. — They proceeded during the day over a rocky country, 
 and encamped at night, after a day of immense toil and suffering. Mr, 
 Eddy gathered some grass near by, to sustain, in his wasted body, the 
 almost extinguished spark of life. 
 
 On the following morning they staggered forward, and toward the 
 close of the day, which seemed interminable, they arrived at an Indian 
 village, which in this country is called a rancheria. The Indians seemed 
 to be overwhelmed with the sight of their miseries. Proverbial as they 
 are for their cruelty and thievish propensities, they now divided their 
 
 32
 
 MEETING WITH THE INDIANS 
 
 own scanty supply with them. The wild and fierce savages who once 
 visited their camps only for the purpose of hostility; who hovered 
 around them upon the way; who shot their cattle, and murdered their 
 companions; who actually stood upon the hills, laughing at their calam- 
 ity, and mocking as their fear came, now seemed touched with the sight 
 of their misfortunes; and their almost instinctive feeling of hostility 
 to the white man, gave place to pity and commiseration. The men looked 
 as solemn as the grave; the women wrung their hands and wept aloud; 
 the children united their plaintive cries to those of their sympathizing 
 mothers. As soon as the first brief burst of feeling had subsided, all 
 united in administering to their wants. One hurried here, and another 
 there, all sobbing and weeping, to obtain their stores of acorns. The 
 acorns grow upon a species of the live oak, and are from one to two 
 
 53
 
 inches in length. They are in appearance and taste very much hke the 
 chestnut. While they were eating these the Indian women began to 
 prepare a sort of bread from the acorns, pulverized. As fast as they could 
 bake them, they gave them to starving emigrants. It was a sort of food 
 that made Mr. Eddy sick, producing constipation. It did not affect 
 the others in this manner. 
 
 On the morning of January nth, the chief, after sending on runners 
 to the next village, informing them of the approach of the sufferers and 
 to prepare food for them, accompanied them during the day with many 
 of his tribe, an Indian being on either side of each of the sufferers, sup- 
 porting them, and assisting them forward. They thus continued from 
 day to day until the morning of the 17th, the chief from one village ac- 
 companied by some of his men, supporting them to the next, where 
 they witnessed the same exhibition of feeling and sympathy. They re- 
 ceived the best food the Indians had, which was acorns. But this, as I 
 before remarked, made Mr. Eddy sick, and he could not eat them, but 
 had lived upon grass only. On the morning of this day, the chief, with 
 much difficulty and labor, procured for him about a gill of pine-nuts, 
 which he ate, and found himself wonderfully refreshed. 
 
 They resumed their journey on the next morning, as usual, accom- 
 panied by a chief and a number of Indians, supporting and assisting 
 them. Mr. Eddy felt a renewed strength, derived in part, as he supposed, 
 from the pine-nuts, and in part, from the energy which a prospect of a 
 speedy termination of his unhappy journey imparted. Nature seemed 
 to have gathered up all her strength for the last effort; so that he was 
 even able to proceed without assistance. 
 
 They had not gone more than a mile when the whole party, excepting 
 Mr. Eddy, sunk under their complicated toils and sufferings, and all 
 laid down to die. The Indians appeared to be greatly distressed. But 
 the picture of his wife and children, perishing with hunger among the 
 terrible snows of the Sierra Nevada, filled the spirit of Mr. Eddy with 
 
 54
 
 unspeakable anguish, and he resolved to get to where reHef for them 
 could be obtained, or to perish by the way. The old chief sent an Indian 
 with him, instructing him, as well as Mr. E. could understand, to take 
 him to the nearest settlement. 
 
 Mr. Eddy had suffered unutterable sorrows by the way. Fear and 
 anguish had got hold upon him; and although he believed that his reason 
 was never more unclouded, yet continued anxiety, the most cruel pri- 
 vations, and circumstances presenting the severest tests of principle, 
 had changed his feelings and his nature in a considerable degree. Let it 
 not therefore be imagined, that in all the dangers surrounding him he 
 had preserved himself entire, if I may be permitted thus to express my- 
 self. Now he felt that he was escaping from a painful dream of combats, 
 of famine and death; of cries of despair; of fathomless snows, and im- 
 passable mountains; dreams that tormented his soul and exhausted his 
 body with fatigue. The scene was changed. The day was calm and beau- 
 tiful, and the sun shone as bright as though no murder had ever been 
 committed in its light. A ray of hope beamed to quiet his agitated and 
 over-wrought spirit. He expected soon to be once more among the 
 abodes of society and civilization, and to be able to send succor to his 
 wife and children. 
 
 Thus situated, and thus feeling, he hastened on, as though famine 
 and death were close upon the heels of himself and his family. They had 
 not proceeded more than five miles, when they met another Indian, to 
 whom Mr. Eddy promised some tobacco, if he would accompany them. 
 At last it became necessary for them to assist him; and they hurried for- 
 ward until they arrived at the house of Col. M. D. Richey, about half 
 an hour before sunset, having traveled eighteen miles. The last six miles 
 of the way were marked by the blood from Mr. Eddy's feet. The first 
 white woman he saw, was the daughter of the truly excellent Mr. 
 Richey. Mr. Eddy asked her for bread. She looked at him, and without 
 replying, burst into tears, and took hold of him to assist him into the 
 
 55
 
 house. He was immediately placed in bed, in which, during four days, 
 he was not able to turn his body. In a very short time he had food brought 
 to him by Mrs. Richey, who sobbed as she fed the miserable and fri2;ht- 
 ful being before her. In a brief period Harriet, the daughter, had car- 
 ried the news from house to house in the little neighborhood; and 
 horses were seen running at full speed from place to place, until all the 
 necessary preparations were made for taking out relief to those Mr. 
 Eddv had left in the morning. William Johnson, John Howell, John 
 Rhodes, Mr. Riser, Mr. Scgur, Daniel Tucker, and Joseph Varro, as- 
 sembled at Mr. Richey' s immediately. The females collected all the 
 bread they had, with tea, sugar, and coffee; amounting in the whole to 
 as much as four men could conveniently carry. Howell, Rhodes, 
 Segur, and Tucker, immediately started on foot, with the Indians for 
 guides, and arrived at the company, eighteen miles distant, about mid- 
 night. One man was employed all night in cooking food, and although 
 Mr. Eddy had cautioned these gentlemen not to give the sufferers as 
 much as they desired, yet the provisions were all consumed that niaht. 
 They wept and begged for food continually, until it was exhausted. It 
 is needless to say that they were all sick; none, however, died. 
 
 On the morning of Jan. iSth, Mr. Richey, William Johnson, Joseph 
 Varro, and Mr. Kiser, proceeded on horseback, with more provisions 
 for the emigrants, and to bring them in. About lo o'clock at night they 
 returned, surprised at the distance Mr. Eddy had traveled, which they 
 said they could not have believed, had they not passed over it. Mr. 
 Richey remarked v\'hen lie returned, that he had followed Mr. Eddy's 
 track six miles by the blood from his feet. 
 
 The 19th was a beautiful day, and although Mr. Eddy felt great 
 solicitude for his family, his soul was in harmony with the aspect of the 
 heavens, which seemed to shed upon him a new ray of hope. Filled with 
 gratitude for his own deliverance, he sought to obtain immediate relief 
 for those who yet remained in the Sierra Nevada. For this purpose he 
 
 56
 
 dictated a letter to John Sinclair, Alcalde of the Upper District, residing 
 near Sutter's Fort, about forn- miles distant, informing him of the con- 
 dition and peril of the emiorants, and urging him to adopt measures 
 for their immediate rescue from famine, cannibalism, and death. An 
 Indian courier was sent with it. Mrs. Sinclair sent back by the Indian a 
 considerable amount ot under-cIothing for the females of Mr. Eddv's 
 parrv, who had arrived almost in a state of nuditv. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair immediately dispatched a courier to San Francisco with 
 a letter containing the intelliijence. The letter was taken up to the Citj' 
 Hotel, and read at the tea-table. The scene that followed will never be 
 forgotten bv those present. The ladies immediately left the table, sob- 
 bing and in tears. The men, ovenvhelmed with the picture of distress 
 it presented, rose in haste; and many an eye unused to tears, expressed 
 how much wzs felt by the burthened and sickened heart. 
 
 ^7
 
 Preparations for relieving the sufferers 
 
 THE INSURRECTION, which ha4 entirely occupied the 
 attention of the United States officers, and of all classes of 
 citizens in the northern district ot California, of which San 
 Francisco was the "headquarters" — having been entirely sup- 
 pressed, and order restored by the middle of January, 1847, 
 Mr. Reed, who, in consequence of that insurrection, had not been able 
 to obtain any assistance which would aid him in makmg another cfl^ort 
 to recross the mountains, now hoped to effect something, at the earliest 
 moment that experienced mountaineers, acquainted with the Sierra 
 Nevada, believed that sufficient intervals would elapse between the 
 storms in that elevated region, and the settling of the snows, to warrant 
 such an undertaking. Experienced men supposed this might occur by 
 the last of February or first of March; although such an attempt must 
 ever be attended with much risk and no little suffering to the party 
 who should undertake it before the melting of the snows. 
 
 At this time Mr. Reed was at the Pueblo de San Jose, on the south- 
 east side of San Francisco Bay, about one hundred and twenty miles from 
 Sutter's Fort. His situation, and that of his suffering companions in 
 misfortune, soon became known to the whole people. Among the 
 people in the town and immediate vicinity, particularly the Mission of 
 Santa Clara, were many immigrants of the last season, who had got in 
 safely and in good time by the old Fort Hall road; and also some who 
 had been caught on and near the summit of the Sierra, in the month of 
 December, 1844, but had got through the snows themselves with great 
 difficulty, leaving behind them all their property, most of which was 
 destroyed by the Indians, in the spring of 1845, before they could re- 
 cross the mountains to recover it. Great sympathy was expressed for Mr. 
 Reed and the sufferers, by all parties, as they feared that the company 
 must soon be in a starving condition. Nothing, however, was done. 
 
 39
 
 Mr. Reed, perceiving that nothing couM be done at San Jose, pro- 
 ceeded to San Francisco, to bring the condition of the sufferers to the 
 knowledge of the Governor, by a personal representation; and with that 
 view called upon the Alcalde of the town and district of San Francisco, 
 Washington A. Bartlett, Lieutenant U. S. Navy, who at once took a 
 lively interest in all his statements, and assured him that assistance 
 should certainly be afforded him, and that immediately. Lieut. Bartlett 
 waited upon the Governor, and introduced Mr. Reed, who told his 
 painful story; when Capt. Hull stated that he had that morning re- 
 ceived a petition from the Pueblo de San Jose; but as he had neither the 
 men nor means to fit out such an expedition as the petition called for, 
 he would consult with the Alcalde, and see what could be done. He re- 
 marked, that he thought petitions would do but little toward affording 
 relief, if that was all the people were disposed to do. Lieut. Bartlett in- 
 formed him that, from what he had already learned in conversation with 
 the principal citizens of the town, a very liberal subscription could be 
 obtained, and a relief company started in a very short time, if the Gover- 
 nor would give it his countenance and support. Governor Hull stated 
 that he would do all in his power, both officially and as a private citizen, 
 and that relief must be sent. 
 
 Lieut. Bartlett then informed the Governor that he would issue a 
 call for a public meeting that evening, when the Governor authorized 
 him to subscribe fifty dollars on his account. Capt. Mervine, U. S. 
 Navy, and Mr. Richardson, U. S. Collector, subscribed the same 
 amount. 
 
 The meeting was at once called; and at 7 p. m., February 3d, nearly 
 every male citizen of San Francisco, and the officers of the United States 
 forces, assembled in the saloon of the principal hotel, to consider what 
 should be done. 
 
 His Honor the Alcalde called the meeting to order, by reading his 
 call upon them to assemble; and then, after stating that Governor Hull 
 
 60
 
 designed to do all he could in the matter, read to the meeting the peti- 
 tion from San Jose, and expressed his belief that, although the citizens 
 of San Francisco had never before been called upon to exercise a col- 
 lective charity, this call would result in something more than a petition; 
 but that, as he did not wish to forestall their action by his suggestions, 
 he hoped they would organize the meeting independently of the magis- 
 trac\^ and thus afford him an opportunity of acting in his private capac- 
 ity with his fellow-citizens and brother officers. Frank Ward, Esq., was 
 then called to the chair, and William Pettet, Esq., was appointed 
 secretary. 
 
 Mr. Reed having come into the room, the people desired him to 
 state to them his opinion of what would be required to make an expe- 
 dition successful in its results. But Mr. Reed begged to decline, alleging 
 that his feelings were such, that he could not command himself suf- 
 ficiently to express himself publicly, with the conviction ever on his 
 mind that, in all probability, his wife and children were then starving. 
 Overpowered with emotion by the delivery of a few remarks, he sat 
 down with tears streaming from his eyes, and showing; how severe was 
 his suffering. 
 
 Mr. Dunleary, with whom Mr. Reed lodged (himself an immigrant), 
 now rose, and stated that, in conversation with Mr. Reed at his house, 
 he had gathered his views, and that he himself had traveled the road, 
 and supposed he could estimate pretty closely where the company then 
 must be; he would, with the indulgence of the meeting, give the views 
 of Mr. Reed and himself as to what was best to be done. 
 
 Those who heard that thrilling address of Mr. Dunleary will never 
 forget the effect upon his attentive audience, while he related the trials 
 of their journey and the probable fate of the starving company, unless 
 relief was soon carried to them — perhaps already too late; but it was 
 hoped that, if prudent, they could hold out till the first of March. (It 
 must be remembered that nearly the entire population of San Francisco, 
 
 61
 
 then resident there, were immigrants by sea, and entirely unacquamted 
 with hfe on the road or in the mountains,) It is worthy of notice, that 
 the sufferers encamped on the very spot (Truckee Lake) where Mr. 
 Dunleary supposed they must have arrived the day the first snow fell, 
 which was only thirty miles beyond the point reached by Reed and Mc- 
 Cutcheon when they failed in their first effort. 
 
 The speaker had scarcely taken his seat, when the people rushed up to 
 the chairman's table, from all parts of the hall, with their hands full of 
 dollars. But the chairman begged they would stay their hands for a 
 moment, and organize a little; when two committees were elected — 
 one to solicit subscriptions (scarcely necessary), and also a treasurer, 
 and a committee of purchases of supplies. These were instructed to 
 consult with the Alcalde, who was requested to act with both com- 
 mittees. The subscription was then opened, and $700 subscribed before 
 the meeting adjourned. 
 
 Messrs. Ward and Smith, m addition to a generous subscription, 
 offered their fine launch, "Dice mi Nana," free of charge, to transport 
 the expedition to Feather river. Mr. John Fuller volunteered to pilot 
 the launch, and Passed-midshipman Woodworth, U. S. N., volun- 
 teered to take charge of the expedition, under instructions from the 
 committee and Governor, and carry out the wishes of the people in 
 aiding Mr. Reed to save the sufferers. 
 
 The committee at once dispatched a courier to the Redwood, forty 
 miles south, for Mr. Dennis Martin, as it was not known that any other 
 person could be had who could pilot in the mountains, when covered 
 with snow. A pilot was all-important to prevent the loss of the party 
 going out — at least to take the very shortest route to Truckee's lake. 
 
 The next day was employed in adding to the subscription, and pur- 
 chasing any thing in the market which the best judgment could suggest 
 as necessary. Howard Oakley volunteered to go with Mr. Woodworth, 
 and men were obtained to work the launch up the river. The utmost 
 
 62
 
 expedition was used to get Messrs. Woodworth and Reed started. The 
 courier returned from the Redwood, stating that Mr. Martin could not 
 possibly go, in consequence of his engagements. 
 
 On the 5th all was ready for a start with the evening tide, when Cap- 
 tain Sutter's launch, "Sacramento," appeared off the town, and on 
 anchoring, the Alcalde received from Justice Sinclair a letter, which, 
 while it filled the hearts of all with horror by its terrible details; and 
 incited to additional efforts of relief, was softened by the pleasing re- 
 flection that they had not waited for such an appeal to move them to 
 action. 
 
 That letter, honorable to the writer and Captain Sutter, and well 
 calculated to rouse to exertion, was at once laid before Governor Hull, 
 and read at the tables of the principal hotels, by the committees and 
 citizens generally; and, as it contained the information so much needed, 
 enabled the committees of relief to act more understandingly. It being 
 now known that a relief-party were actually on the route, and would 
 probably succeed in bringing out of the snows a considerable number 
 of the sufferers, it was determined to make every provision necessary 
 to relieve both the sufferers and those who had gone to their aid, and to 
 have a relief-camp established at the most eligible point on the route, 
 and also to provide liberally for the wants of the emigrants, in food and 
 clothing, should any party succeed in getting them out. It was, there- 
 fore, determined to mcrease the funds during the next day, and thus 
 increase the supplies, in all that could be considered useful. 
 
 The same evening, February 5th, Mr. Greenwood, an old mountain- 
 eer, also appeared at San Francisco to ask for assistance in fitting out a 
 party to go out with himself and McCutcheon, to which end the citizens 
 of Sonoma and Nappa, headed by Lieutenant William L. Maury, 
 U. S. N., Commandant of the port, and Don Mariano G. Vallejo, 
 Ex-Commandant-general of California, had subscribed over $500 for 
 the party, besides large donations of horses and mules, which $500 was 
 
 63
 
 to be paid Greenwood and company, if they succeeded in raising a party 
 and going out; but as warm clothing and ready money were absolutely 
 necessary to start an expedition, they went to San Francisco for them. 
 Greenwood thought he would succeed, if he could secure ten or twelve 
 men he could depend upon in the snow. He believed he could secure 
 such men by having ready money. His horses and provisions were al- 
 ready in his camp, at the head of Nappa valley. 
 
 Governor Hull now desired Lieutenant Bartlett to lay before him a 
 statement of what was proposed to be done, as a basis for his action, on 
 the part of the government; trusting to its generosity and humanity in 
 sustaining him in an extraordinary expense which his position as Gov- 
 ernor and Military Commandant of the Northern Department called 
 upon him not to hesitate in incurring, even at the risk of its not being 
 allowed by the government; and, on receiving from Lieutenant Bartlett 
 a communication setting forth the facts already stated, and the appeal 
 of Greenwood for aid to start his expedition. Captain Hull determined 
 to appropriate $400 on government account to organize that party. 
 Greenwood stated to Captain Hull, that he could easily get men, if he 
 had this ready money to make advances and purchase clothing; and, as 
 he had crossed the Sierra Nevada, while the snow lay on the summit, in 
 April, 1846, he thought he could do it again, as soon as he could reach 
 the mountain; and, possibly, he might succeed in driving over some of 
 his horses, which he would kill in the Mountain Camp for provisions 
 for the sufferers. At any rate he and his sons, with Turner and others, 
 could reach them on snow-shoes. 
 
 As it was believed that Mr. Reed could get to the mountains quicker, 
 by going via Sonoma and Nappa valleys, he determined to leave the 
 next day with Mr. Greenwood, and get animals and packs prepared to 
 meet Mr. Woodworth, at Feather river. Fifty dollars in money was 
 given to Mr. Reed, by the committee, to pay contingencies, and an 
 order, signed by Capt. Hull, to enable him to get the horses, and secure 
 
 64
 
 some men if possible. Greemvood was also to start on his independent 
 expedition, at the earliest possible moment. Messrs. Reed and Mc- 
 Cutcheon were supplied gratis by the committee, with every thing they 
 required for the journey; and to Mr. Reed was also given a supply of 
 clothing and goods, necessary for the women, who had already reached 
 Johnson's. Mr. Reed was further directed, that in case he should have 
 to waste any time at Feather river, for Mr. Woodworth's arrival, he 
 was not to do so, but push on, and, if possible, drive some cattle to the 
 edge ot the snow, to relieve the party now known to be out; in which 
 case, Mr. Woodworth had orders to get his horses, packs, and men, from 
 Sutter's Fort; and if he could not take all on at once, Capt. Sutter was 
 charged with the forwarding of the supplies, which he should leave 
 behind. And Mr. Woodworth was to unload the launch at the Fort, 
 if he should think he could get on faster by so doing. 
 
 During the 6 th, the crews of the U. S. frigate Savannah, sloop of war 
 Warren, and the marines, in garrison, on shore, carried the subscrip- 
 tion up to $1300, which enabled the committee to get other necessaries; 
 and, besides, to place in Mr. Woodworth's hands $100, with which to 
 purchase cattle to drive as far as the snow, and then kill them for food 
 for the relief-parties and sufferers. Capt. Hull, also, sent orders to 
 Capts. Kern and Sutter, to do all in their power, by assisting with men 
 and horses, to hurry forward the supplies. 
 
 On an application to Capt. Mervine, commanding the U. S. frigate 
 Savannah, by Lieut. Bartlett, on the part of the committee of supplies, 
 he furnished from the provisions of the ship twenty days' full rations 
 for ten men or two hundred rations; that there should not be any ex- 
 penditure of the supplies by the persons who should work the launch 
 up and back. 
 
 Mr. Greenwood, witli the $400 supplied to him by Capt. Hull, pur- 
 chased the clothing necessary for his party, retaining the balance to 
 make advances, and purchase provisions. All parties being thus supplied, 
 
 65
 
 so far as their necessities could be foreseen, set out on their errands of 
 mercy. Messrs. Melius and Howard tendered the gratuitous use of 
 their launch to transport Messrs. Reed, Greenwood, McCutcheon, and 
 others, to Sonoma. 
 
 66
 
 Mr. Glover's two expeditions for relief of the sufferers 
 
 IT WILL BE SEEN from the foregoing chapter, that an expedi- 
 tion was fitted out at San Francisco, for the rehef of the emigrants 
 at the MoLintam Camp. But as another was organized a httle be- 
 fore that, I will take it up as being the first in point of time. 
 In about a week after Mr. Sinclair received the letter, which has 
 been mentioned as having been dictated by Mr. Eddy, he came to the 
 place at which Mr. Eddy was temporarily abiding. Capt. E. Kern had 
 made an unsuccessful effort to induce men to go with relief to the immi- 
 grants, offering three dollars per day. Aquilla Glover, R. S. Mootrey, and 
 Joseph Sel, were all that would consent to go; and they were willing to 
 enter upon the hazardous enteiprise, without any other reward than the 
 satisfaction derived from a consciousness of the fact that they might be 
 instrumental, in the hands of God, in rescuing from the jaws of a miser- 
 able death a multitude of men, women, and children. 
 
 [ohn Sinclair, Esq., and Mr. George McKinstry, Jr., returned from 
 San Francisco about the time of the failure of the effort made by Capt. 
 Kern. Capt. Sutter and Mr. Sinclair then proposed, that they would 
 become responsible for three dollars per day, which they would pay, if 
 the Government of the United States would not. This induced Daniel 
 Rhodes, John Rhodes, Daniel Tucker, and Edward Coffeymier, to join 
 the three above mentioned. William Koon, and a man for whom I have 
 never known any other name than that of "Greasy Jim," also joined the 
 expedition; but as these did not go through, no other notice will be 
 taken of them. Capt. Sutter and John Sinclair furnished supplies and 
 horses. 
 
 On the last day of January, the party set out, and after traveling tour- 
 teen miles, encamped on Dry Creek. 
 
 February i . — Immediately after sunrise, Mr. Glover, who had com- 
 mand of the party, set out, and after traveling all day, encamped about 
 
 e7
 
 three miles below Mr. Johnson's, on Bear river. The party proceeded, 
 the next day, on to Mr. Johnson's, where the company was occupied 
 during the 3d and 4th, in making pack-saddles, drying beef, and in com- 
 pleting the preparations for the journey. Mr. Eddy had greatly im- 
 proved in strength, and fancying that he could be serviceable, he here 
 determined to accompany the expedition. 
 
 On the 5th, the party set forward; and after being helped upon a 
 horse, Mr. Eddy proceeded on with it. They continued traveling, with 
 some delays, till February 9, when they arrived at the Mule Springs. 
 Here they found the snow so deep that it became necessary to leave the 
 horses. And such was Mr. Eddy's weak and feeble condition, that the 
 party refused to permit him to go any further. The loth was occupied in 
 making preparations for carrying provisions over on foot. 
 
 The following day Mr. Eddy started back for the settlements, in- 
 tending to procure fresh supplies, and to return with two men to meet 
 Mr. Glover on his way in. The party set out early in the morning, sinking 
 at each step knee-deep in the snow. That night they encamped on Bear 
 river. They had believed that they would be able to follow it up, and in 
 this manner avoid the hills. But upon examination, this route was found 
 to be impracticable, in consequence of the river breaking through 
 canons. 
 
 On the 1 2th, the party resumed their journey, and after traveling 
 about two miles, in snow waist-deep, found it impossible to proceed, 
 and encamped for the purpose of making snow-shoes. The following 
 day, they traveled until noon when they encamped, and spent the after- 
 noon in removing the snow from a cache of provisions made by Mr. 
 Reed in the autumn. After digging and melting away thirteen feet of 
 snow, the wagon was found torn in pieces by the grisly bears. The 
 party remained in camp during the 14th, preparing packs and provisions. 
 
 On the 15th, they left Bear River valley, in consequence of the im- 
 mense snow-drifts upon the sides of the ridge, over which the emigrant 
 
 68
 
 road passes, from Yuva river to this valley. After traveling fifteen miles, 
 they encamped on the wake of Yuva river. The river was entirely con- 
 cealed by snow of unknown depth. 
 
 The next day, the company proceeded on three miles, when it be- 
 came necessary to stop and make snow-shoes. On the 17th, after tra\el- 
 ing five miles, they encamped on Yuva river, in dry and soft snow fifteen 
 feet deep. They traveled eight miles, on the i8th, and encamped at the 
 head of Yuva river, where the snow was so deep that all the low trees, 
 and of course all the undergrowth, were covered. 
 
 February 19. — On the morning of this day, the party resumed its 
 journey. Mr. Glover and Daniel Rhodes became so much exhausted in 
 crossing the Sierra Nevada, that their companions were under the 
 necessity of carrying their packs. After traveling about nine miles, they 
 arrived at The Mountain Camp as the last rays of the setting sun were 
 departing from the tops of the mountains. Every thing was as silent as 
 the grave. A painful stillness pervaded the scene. Upon some of the 
 party raising a shout, for the purpose of finding the cabins, by attract- 
 ing the attention of the living — if, indeed, any did live — the sufferers 
 were seen coming up out of their snow-holes, from the cabins, which 
 were completely covered, the snow presenting one unbroken level. They 
 tottered toward their deliverers, manifesting a delirium of jov, and 
 acting in the wildest and most extravagant manner. Some wept; some 
 laughed. All inquired, "Have you brought any thing for me?" Many 
 of them had a peculiarly wild expression of the eye; all looked haggard, 
 ghastly, and horrible. The flesh was wasted from their bodies, and the 
 skin seemed to have dried upon their bones. Their voices were weak and 
 sepulchral; and the whole scene conveyed to the mind the idea of that 
 shout having awaked the dead from the snows. Fourteen of their num- 
 ber, principally men, had already died from starvation, and many more 
 were so reduced, that it was almost certain they would never rise from 
 the miserable beds upon which they had lain down. The unhappy sur- 
 
 69
 
 vivors were, in short, in a condition the most deplorable, and beyond 
 the power of language to describe, or of the imagination to conceive. 
 The annals of human suffering nowhere present a more appalling spec- 
 tacle, than that which blasted the eyes and sickened the hearts of those 
 brave men, whose indomitable courage and perseverance, in the face 
 of so many dangers, hardships, and privations, snatched some of these 
 miserable survivors from the jaws of death, and who, for having done 
 so much, merit the lasting gratitude and respect of every man who has 
 a heart to feel for human woe, or a hand to afford relief. 
 
 Many of the sufferers had been living for weeks upon bullock hides, 
 and even this sort of food was so nearly exhausted with some, that they 
 were about to dig up from the snow the bodies of their companions, 
 for the purpose of prolonging their wretched lives. Mrs. Reed, who 
 lived in Brinn's cabin, had, during a considerable length of time, sup- 
 ported herself and four children, by cracking and boiling again the bones 
 from which Brinn's family had carefully scraped all the flesh. These 
 bones she had often taken, and boiled again and again, for the purpose 
 of extracting the least remaining portion of nutriment. 
 
 Some of the emigrants had been making preparations for death, and 
 at morning and evening the incense of prayer and thanksgiving ascended 
 from their cheerless and comfortless dwellings. Others there were, 
 who cursed God, cursed the snow, and cursed the mountain, and in the 
 wildest frenzy deplored their miserable and hard fate. Some poured 
 bitter imprecations upon the head of L. W. Hastings, for having de- 
 ceived them as to the road upon which he had conducted them; and all 
 united in common fears of a common and inevitable death. Many of 
 them had, in a great measure, lost all self-respect. Untold sufferings had 
 broken their spirits, and prostrated every thing like an honorable and 
 commendable pride. Misfortune had dried up the fountains of the 
 heart; and the dead, whom their weakness made it impossible to carry 
 out, were dragged from their cabins by means of ropes, with an apathy 
 
 70
 
 that afforded a faint indication of the extent of the change which a few 
 weeks of dire suffering had produced, in hearts that once sympathized 
 with the distressed, and mourned the departed. With many of them, 
 all principle, too, had been swept away by this tremendous torrent of 
 accumulated and accumulating calamities. It became necessary to place 
 a guard over the little store of provisions brought to their relief; and 
 they stole and devoured the raw-hide strings from the snow-shoes of 
 those who had come to deliver them. But some there were, whom no 
 temptation could seduce, no suffering move; who were 
 
 "Among the faithless, faithful still." 
 
 Upon going down into the cabins of this mountain camp, the party 
 were presented with sights of woe, and scenes of horror, the full tale 
 of which never will be told, and never ought; sights which, although the 
 emigrants had not yet commenced eating the dead, were so revolting, 
 that they were compelled to withdraw, and make a lire where they 
 would not be under the necessity of looking upon the painful spectacle. 
 
 On the morning of February 20th, John Rhodes, Daniel Tucker, 
 and R. S. Mootrey, went to the camp of George Donner, eight miles 
 distant, taking with them a little beef. These sufferers were found with 
 but one hide remaining. They had determined, that, upon consuming 
 this, they would dig up from the snow the bodies of those who had 
 died from starvation. Mr. Donner was helpless. Mrs. Donner was weak, 
 but in good health, and might have come into the settlements with Mr. 
 Glover's party, yet she solemnly but calmly declared her determination 
 to remain with her husband, and perform for him the last sad offices 
 of affection and humanity. And this she did, in full view of the fact, 
 that she must necessarily perish by remaining behind. 
 
 On the evening of the 20th, the party that had gone down to Mr. 
 Donner s camp in the morning returned, bringing seven persons with 
 them. 
 
 71
 
 The next day, at noon, the party, after leaving all the provisions they 
 could spare, commenced their return from the Mountain Camp to the 
 settlement, with twenty-three persons, principally women and chil- 
 dren. The results of the disastrous and horrible journey of Eddy and 
 Foster were carefully concealed from these poor sufferers. To have 
 acted otherwise would have been to overwhelm them with fear and 
 despondency, and this in their condition would have proved fatal. 
 
 Mrs. Pike's child and Mrs, Kiesburg's were carried by the party. 
 After proceeding about two miles, two of Mrs. Reed's children gave 
 out; the one a little girl of eight years old, and the other a little boy of 
 four. It became absolutely necessary, therefore, to return them to the 
 Mountain Camp, or to abandon them to die upon the way. The mother 
 was informed by Mr. Glover, that it was necessary to take them back. 
 And now ensued that which it is hoped none may ever be called upon to 
 witness again. She was a wife, and affection for her husband, then in 
 the settlement, no doubt suggested her going on. But she was a mother, 
 also; and maternal love — that strongest of all feelings, that most power- 
 ful of all instincts — determined her, immediately, to send forward 
 the two children who could walk, while she would go back with the two 
 youngest, and die with them. It was impossible for Mr. Glover to shake 
 this resolution, although he promised, that when he arrived at Bear 
 River valley, he would go back for them. At length she asked, "Are 
 you a mason?" Upon receiving an answer in the affirmative she said, 
 "Do you promise me, upon the word of a mason, that when you arrive 
 at Bear River valley, you will return and bring out my children, if we 
 shall not, in the mean time, meet their father going for them?" Mr. 
 Glover replied, "I do thus promise." She then consented to go on. 
 When the mother and children were about to separate, Patty, a little 
 girl eight years of age, took her mother by the hand, and said — "Well, 
 mamma, kiss me. Good-by! I shall never see you again. I am willing 
 to go back to our mountain camp and die; but I can not consent to your 
 
 71
 
 going back. I shall die willingly, if I can believe that you will live to see 
 papa. Tell him, good-by, for his poor Patty." The mother and little 
 children lingered in a long embrace. Being separated, Patty turned from 
 her mother to go back to camp. As Mr. Glover and Mr. Mootrey were 
 taking the children back, she told them, that she was willing to go 
 back and take care of her little brother, but that she "should never see 
 mother again." I have given an imperfect sketch of that parting scene; 
 but to do it justice is as impossible as to paint the rainbow, or to throw 
 the sun upon the canvas. 
 
 While Mr. Glover and Mr. Mootrey were taking the children back 
 to the Mountain Camp, the company continued to advance, and after 
 proceeding about a mile, encamped at the upper end of Truckee's Lake. 
 This lake, and the river flowing from it, derive their names from an 
 Indian who piloted Mr. Child's company from the sinks of Mary's 
 river to this lake. His name was Truckee, and the emigrants gave his 
 name to the lake and the river. Fremont calls it Snow Lake or Lake 
 Wood. The river is the west fork of Salmon-Trout river; the east fork 
 heads in Salmon-Trout Lake; and the two unite and flow into Pyramid 
 Lake. There are others in the neighborhood, of great beauty. 
 
 Messrs. Glover and Mootrey returned after the party had encamped; 
 but thev carefully concealed from Mrs. Reed the fact, that Brinn and 
 wife absolutely refused to permit the children to come into the cabin, 
 until many promises of immediate relief and succor were made. They 
 were even then reluctantly, and with an ill grace, received. 
 
 The party were upon an allowance of one ounce of beef and a spoon- 
 ful of flour, twice per day. The emigrants were almost famished, and 
 some of them that night stole and ate the strings from Mr, Coff"eymier's 
 snow-shoes. This circumstance led to an amusing scene, which I would 
 here present, did it not seem to be out of place in a narrative, every page 
 of which presents scenes of horror and sights of woe. 
 
 73
 
 February 22. — The company left camp in the morning, crossed the 
 Sierra Nevada, and camped that night at the head of Yuva river. John 
 Denton being missing at the camp, John Rhodes and one other went 
 back and found him in a profound sleep upon the snow. They labored 
 near an hour before they succeeded in rousing him. He was with great 
 difficulty brought up to camp. Here a new misfortune awaited the 
 party. Mr. Glover, upon his going out to the Mountain Camp, had 
 made a fac^f of provisions at this place; but, upon examination, it was 
 found to have been nearly all destroyed by a cougar. This circumstance 
 rendered necessary a further reduction in the daily allowance of food. 
 The effect and consequence of this discovery can not be fully compre- 
 hended by persons sitting in comfort, around their firesides, and in the 
 enjoyment of an abundance of the provisions of God's mercy. The 
 poor emigrants wept bitterly, and the stoutest and bravest hearts of 
 those who had gone to rescue them, were not free from fear and de- 
 spondency. 
 
 On the morning of the 23d, Aquilla Glover, R. S. Mootrey, and 
 Edward Coffeymier, hastened forward in advance of the company, 
 for the purpose of obtaining supplies at another cache, which had been 
 made at Bear River valley. From this, it was proposed to obtain supplies 
 with which to return to the sufferers. After the company had traveled 
 about one mile, Mr. John Denton became so much exhausted, as to be 
 unable to proceed. He informed his companions, that it was utterly im- 
 possible for him to go any further, and stated that they could be of no 
 service to him, and that to remain with him would involve the lives of 
 all. He therefore requested them to leave him, expressing the hope, 
 however, that relief would be sent to him, if possible. They made a fire 
 for him, and after gathering a pile of wood, and leaving with him nearly 
 all the food they had, they left him by the wayside in the wilderness. It 
 will be seen, that Mr. Reed, after this, hurried forward with the hope 
 of rescuing him; but the vital spark had been extinguished in his weary 
 
 74
 
 and worn-out hody. After Mr. Reed had passed on, Mr. Eddy found 
 him with the provisions still in his pocket. 
 
 He was an intelligent and amiable young man about thirty years of 
 age. He was a gunsmith by trade, and was a native of Sheffield, England, 
 where he had a mother living at the time of his last hearing from home. 
 The four years preceding his entering upon this journey, he had resided 
 in Springfield, Illinois, where he left many warmly attached friends. 
 Mr, Eddy had gone back into the mountain for the purpose of taking 
 relief to the emigrants, and found him in a sitting posture, with his 
 body slightly leaning against a snow-bank, and with his head bowed upon 
 his breast. He had evidently fallen into a profound slumber, during the 
 continuance of which the circulation had gradually diminished, until 
 he ceased at once to live and suffer, and the transition of his spirit from 
 time into eternity was unperceived. 
 
 Mr. Ecidy found at his side a small piece of India rubber, a pocket 
 pencil, and a little journal, containing a brief notice of some of the most 
 prominent incidents of the journey, and among others of his Christmas 
 dinner. On a slip of the paper was a piece of poetry, which he had writ- 
 ten, making some corrections by rubbing out with his India rubber, and 
 rewriting. It was handed over to Mr. Woodworth, who published it 
 in the "California Star." It was written in pencil, and there can be no 
 doubt of his having composed it a little before the coming on of that 
 heavy slumber, from which he will never awake, until the angel Gabriel 
 shall rouse earth's sleeping millions from the grave. When the circum- 
 stances are considered in connection with the calamities in which the 
 unhappy Denton was involved, the whole compass of English and 
 American poetry may be challenged to furnish a more exquisitelj' 
 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 waked from an 
 JEoli^n harp, the strings of which rude hands have sundered. Bring be- 
 
 75
 
 fore 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 the last most solemn hour is near. 
 Reason still maintains her empire, and memory, faithful to the last, 
 performs its functions. On every side extends a boundless waste of 
 faithless snow. He reclines against a bank of it, to rise no more; and busy 
 memory brings before him a thousand images of past beauty and pleas- 
 ure, and of scenes he will never revisit. A mother's image presents itself 
 to his mind; tender recollections crowd upon his heart, and the scenes 
 of his boyhood and youth pass in review before him with an unwonted 
 vividness; the hymns of praise and thanksgiving that in harmony 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— ,,^ ^ 
 
 (J! arter many rovmg 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 scene 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. 
 
 76
 
 "I wish I could once more recall 
 
 That bright and blissful joy, 
 And summon to my weary heart 
 
 The feelinas of a bov. 
 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." 
 
 The party, after providing as far as it was possible for the wants of 
 Mr. Denton, resumed its journey, and after traveling about eight miles 
 in advance, encamped. On that night a child of Mrs. Kiesburg died. 
 
 On the morning of February 24th the party resumed its journey, in 
 great weakness, and after traveling within about eight miles of Bear 
 River valley, encamped, and were met by R. S. Mootrey and Edward 
 Coffeymier, with a little beef. 
 
 February 25. — The company again set out, and after traveling a short 
 distance, met Mr. Reed. Mrs. Reed instantly rushed into her husband's 
 arms. The affecting scene which followed the meeting of the husband 
 and wife, the father and children, it is impossible to describe. The most 
 generous and amiable sentiments of nature and humanity were testified 
 in the jov this unfortunate couple exhibited, when they had sufficiently 
 recovered their senses to realize that thev were indeed restored to each 
 other, after so many torturing anxieties, so many cruel misfortunes; and 
 after encountering from their companions a madness so insensate, sus- 
 tained by a courage the most heroic. They felt and expressed so \'ividly 
 the happiness they enjoyed in that moment of unsurpassed rapture, that 
 it would have drawn tears from the most obdurate heart. 
 
 But other duties and obligations made it necessary for them to sepa- 
 rate. There yet remained m this Mountain Camp many who must die, 
 without assistance. Patty was there; and her little brother, a pet of the 
 
 77
 
 whole family, was there. These aside from the peril of other sufterers, 
 appealed to a father's heart to hasten to their rescue. 
 
 Mr. Glover's party encamped that night in Bear River valley, where 
 they found their cache of provisions undisturbed. Having now a toler- 
 able supply, young Donner ate too much, and was in consequence very 
 sick. Some tobacco iuice being given to him to make him vomit, he 
 was well before morning. At breakfast, however, he again ate too much, 
 and died before lo o'clock. 
 
 The company traveled six miles on the 26th, and encamped near the 
 crossing of Bear river. 
 
 February 27. — Mr. Glover's party resumed its journey early in the 
 morning, and encamped that night at the Mule Springs, where Mr. 
 Woodworth was encamped on bare ground, the snow being in patches. 
 Horses had been sent from the settlements for the use of the emigrants. 
 After resting over night, such of the sufferers as could ride, were put 
 upon horses; and the party resuming its journey, traveled on to Cache 
 Creek, where it encamped. On the second day of March the sufferers 
 arrived at Johnson's, and finally terminated their laborious, exhausting 
 and fatiguing journey, at Sutter's Fort (Fort Sacramento), on the 4th 
 of March, grateful to Almighty God for His delivering mercy, and to 
 those whom He had honored by making them the instruments of that 
 deliverance. 
 
 On the day of the arrival of Mr. Glover's party, at Fort Sacramento, 
 he started back with two of Capt. Sutter's Indians, having ten or twelve 
 horses and six mules loaded with provisions. 
 
 They proceeded on to Capt, Kern's camp, about sixty miles from 
 the fort. Here Mr. Glover sent a man (for whom, after inquiring of a 
 number of persons in San Francisco, I could learn no other name than 
 th^t of "Greasy Jim") forward to Mr. Woodworth, who was in camp 
 at the Mule Spring, about thirty miles distant. Mr. Woodworth sent 
 back the messenger with a note, requesting that the horses should be 
 
 78
 
 brought up. Mr. Glover, upon arriving at Mr. Woodworth's camp, 
 met Mr. Reed with Solomon Hook, Patty, and little Tommy. 
 
 Mr. Woodvvorth informed Mr. Glover that Eddy, Foster, and others 
 had aone on, for the purpose of assisting the emigrants, and that it was 
 with difficulty that a party had been obtained. He stated also that he 
 had promised to meet the party of Messrs. Eddy and Foster, with sup- 
 plies of food; but that his men were not able to go. Messrs. Mootrey 
 and Coffeymier proposed to go, if Mr. Glover would accompany them. 
 These three gentlemen then started, with packs of provisions upon their 
 backs, Mr. Woodworth accompanying them. They traveled eight 
 miles, and halted, about 3 o'clock, p. m., and made a bark shelter for 
 Mr. Woodworth. The next morning, the party again set out, and after 
 traveling six miles encamped at the head of Bear River valley, where a 
 shelter had previously been prepared for Mr. Woodworth. On the fol- 
 lowing morning, the party resumed its journey, and after traveling 
 twelve miles, encamped at the last Yuva River canon upon the emigrant 
 road. On the following morning, Messrs. Woodvvorth, Glover, and 
 Coffeymier set out, and after traveling until about 2 o'clock, halted 
 to make a fire and cook dinner. While thus employed, Mr. Eddy and 
 party met them. Messrs. Woodworth, Glover, Coffeymier, and Moot- 
 rey, after dinner, commenced their return toward the settlements, and 
 encamped at the last crossing of Yuva river, at a place where the emi- 
 grant road leaves that river. Some time after the fire had been made, 
 Messrs. Foster, Miller, Thompson, and Eddy came up, and encamped. 
 On the following morning, Mr. Woodworth proceeded on, with the 
 gentlemen who were with him. 
 
 Here terminate the events connected with Mr. Glover's second ex- 
 pedition. The occurrences from this point properly refer themselves 
 to the account of the expedition of Messrs. Foster and Eddy, whose 
 story will be found. 
 
 79
 
 The first expedition of Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon 
 
 MR. JAMES F. REED, it will be remembered, had 
 been compelled to leave his company, far back on 
 Ogden's ri\'er, on the morning after the unhappy 
 contest with young Snyder. Such was the hostility 
 ^of the company, with the exception of Milton El- 
 liot and William H. Eddy, to him, that he was not permitted to take a 
 gun, or any other arms, with which to procure game, or to defend him- 
 self from savages. After he left camp, Mr, Eddy resolved that he should 
 not be turned upon the road, under circumstances in which he must 
 necessjirily perish; and at the hazard of a quarrel with his companions 
 in travel, he followed Mr. Reed, with a gun and some ammunition. 
 
 Those who are only conversant with the modes of thought of well- 
 regulated society, will find it difficult to understand the nature and 
 elements of a feeling of hostility, of which the very best men upon the 
 road often become objects. Far removed from the salutary restraining 
 influence which law and the tribunals of justice exert upon even the 
 most profligate and wicked; there being no public opinion in this vast 
 wilderness, a man may have escaped from the gallows, or be a fugitive 
 from the penitentiary, and yet exert an influence, which will finally re- 
 sult in producing a prejudice, and, perhaps, even a positive hostility 
 against men of virtue and intelligence. But there were in Mr. Reed's 
 case some elements of ill-feeling, in addition to those alluded to, which 
 all persons can appreciate. Snyder was one of Mr. Graves' ox-drivers, a 
 daughter of whom he was to marry. This was in itself sufficient to array 
 Mr. Graves and his family, together with all his dependents, and those 
 over whom he could exert an influence, against Mr. Reed. Kiesburg had 
 been required to leave another company, far back on the way, for a great 
 impropriety, often repeated. Mr. Reed was mainly instrumental in that 
 ejection. The divisions and subdivisions of companies, which subse- 
 
 81
 
 quently took place, had again brought them together in the same com- 
 pany. And now the kiUing of Snyder, akhough clearly justifiable, 
 seemed to present an opportunity to Kiesburg for gratifying a deep 
 seated purpose to be revenged. Accordingly we find that this man, whose 
 character will be more fully exhibited before the curtain falls upon the 
 scenes of this most shocking and revolting tragedy, was the first to pro- 
 pose hanging Mr. Reed, after the arrival of the company, at the evening 
 encampment. This was prevented by the firmness and resolution of 
 Messrs. Eddy and Elliot. Mr. Reed, it will be remembered, left camp 
 on the next morning, leaving his family behind him, to make his way, 
 alone and without food, through a hostile country into the settlements. 
 The history of that journey would, if carefully written, make a volume, 
 every page of which would be replete with instruction and interest. 
 After a thousand hairbreadth escapes, passing through the most terrible 
 scenes, enduring the most cruel sufferings from famine and thirst, 
 struggling with almost inevitable death, and passing days and nights 
 of inexpressible anguish, he finally succeeded, in the good providence of 
 God, in arriving at the settlements. 
 
 After recruiting his wasted energies, Mr. Reed obtained provisions 
 and horses, for the purpose of going back to the relief of his family, 
 and the other emigrants. Having passed over the road, after being thrust 
 out by his traveling companions, he knew that they would require as- 
 sistance, in order to get through. In this enterprise he was assisted by 
 William McCutcheon, who, it will be remembered, had been sent for- 
 ward with Mr. Stanton from the Salt Lake, to obtain supplies, with 
 which to meet the emigrants. Worn down and exhausted by the journey 
 into the settlements, Mr. McCutcheon did not accompany Mr. Stan- 
 ton, on his return with two of Captain Sutter's vaqueros. 
 
 Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon, after obtaining twenty-six horses 
 and mules, with the necessary provisions, and two Indians, from Captain 
 Sutter, set out upon their expedition to cross the mountains. On the 
 
 82
 
 second day after leaving Mr. Johnson's, they encountered the snow. On 
 the third day they reached the head of Bear River valley, in two feet 
 snow, with their flour, beef, and beans, in good condition. At this place 
 they found a man, named Jotham Curtis, who had become greatly 
 grieved and vexed with the evil deeds of the uncircumcised Philistines, 
 who had been the companions of his travel. He had fixed upon this 
 spot, as an abiding place, a sort of lodge in the "vast wilderness," in 
 which he might cease to hear of wrong and oppression. But his late 
 companions fully reciprocated the feeling — though, perhaps, e\'en un- 
 justly—which prompted him to desire a separate abode, and, without 
 asking for even a lock of his hair, had hurried forward into the settle- 
 ment, leaving their afflicted and sorrowing companion to the undisputed 
 possession of his dominions. 
 
 He had built a sort of pen, over which he had stretched his tent for a 
 roof. This, in two feet of snow, verv imperfectly answered the purpose 
 of a palace for the mountain monarch. Not having any one as yet con- 
 nected with his establishment to perform the functions of purveyor, 
 he had been reduced to the vulgar necessity of killing and eating his old 
 dog. Upon the whole, Jotham's opinions, like some fruits, had been 
 matured and ripened by frost and snow. In short, his views upon the 
 subject of the blessings of solitude had undergone a most marvelous 
 change, which caused him to determine upon abdicating his sovereignty, 
 on the first suitable occasion. Frost, and hail, and sleet, and snow, had 
 conducted him through a somewhat painful process, to the conclusion 
 that, although a "boundless contiguity of shade" would do well enough 
 for the summer, it was not quite the thing for winter. He was therefore 
 profuse in his thanks to Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon for having come 
 to carry him and his "household" into the settlements. He was in- 
 formed, however, that they were on their way to their friends and travel- 
 ing companions, on the eastern side of the mountain; but he was assured 
 that, upon returning, every practicable assistance would be rendered. 
 
 83
 
 Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon resumed their journey die following 
 morning, leaving one Indian and nine head of horses at Jotham's camp, 
 to remain until they returned. 
 
 They pursued their way over a difficult mountain, along the emigrant 
 road. Those who subsequently went to the relief of the emigrants 
 avoided this mountain, by continuing up Bear River valley, until they 
 entered the valley of Yuva river. The traveling was so heavy that they 
 were unable to proceed more than three miles, when they encamped in 
 Dry Valley, in three feet of snow. The snow was soft, dry, and very 
 light, and the horses were, in consequence, almost exhausted. The In- 
 dian who had accompanied them, became so much discouraged that he 
 secretly left camp to return. His departure being soon discovered, Mr. 
 Reed went back to the camp of Jotham Curtis, who stated that the In- 
 dians, after whispering together, suddenly left, about half an hour be- 
 fore; and that they had taken with them three of the horses, which he did 
 not attempt to prevent, because he believed that any effort of that sort 
 would have been useless. The fact was, that Curtis had persuaded them 
 to leave, believing that this would make it necessary for Messrs. Reed 
 and McCutcheon to return, when, he flattered himself, he would be 
 taken out of the snow. Mr. Reed, finding that a further pursuit would 
 be unavailing, returned to his camp in Dry Valley, where he arrived be- 
 fore daylight. 
 
 After finishing a hasty breakfast, they resumed their journey for the 
 eastern side of the mountain, along the still ascendmg ridge between Bear 
 and Yuva rivers. They proceeded, with almost incredible toil, about 
 three miles, when they found the snow four feet deep. They at length 
 arrived at the summit of the ridge, along which they traveled about one 
 mile and a half to a point where they found the snow four and a half feet 
 deep. Here some of the horses becoming exhausted, lay down greatly 
 distressed, with their noses just out of the snow. The saddle horses were 
 then rode about one mile further, and left; when Messrs. Reed and 
 
 84
 
 McCutcheon proceeded on foot for the purpose of ascertaining whether 
 it would be possible to advance. After toiHng onward about one mile, 
 the snow was up to their arm-pits. This brought them to the ground 
 which descends towards Yuva river. They now halted to consult. Neith- 
 er had ever seen snow-shoes. After a few minutes of most anxious and 
 painful deliberation, they resolved to go back. Upon returning to their 
 pack-horses, they found them completely exhausted, and some of them 
 almost smothered in snow. The heads of some were only partially 
 visible; the packs of others were seen a little above the snow, while the 
 head was below. Being at length extricated and taken back into the trail, 
 thev were driven to the camp of Jotham Curtis, v\'here Messrs. Reed and 
 McCutcheon arrived at night, suffering greatly from fatigue, and with 
 feelings of the deepest dejection and despondency. 
 
 After a very brief rest, Mr. McCutcheon commenced cooking their 
 supper in silence. Mrs. Curtis was unwell and weary. Her husband was 
 dispirited, worn down, and cross as the grisly bear in the forest in which 
 he had made his camp. At length, upon some trifling pretense, he com- 
 menced pouring upon Mr. McCutcheon abuse without measure or 
 stint. To all this, however, Mr. McCutcheon gave no attention. His 
 hands were busy with the preparations for the evening meal, and his mind 
 was beyond the mountain. Curtis, however, was rather encouraged by 
 this silence, and his whole conduct was calculated to remind one of a 
 little dog barking at a mastiff. A close observer might indeed have ob- 
 served, at intervals, the color coming into Mr. McCutcheon' s face, 
 and an occasional curl of the brow, which seemed to indicate that it 
 was possible for the little fellow, sitting upon the ground with his toes 
 in the ashes, to get a snap after a while. Mrs. Curtis ventured indeed, 
 once or twice, to hint that neither of the gentlemen were doing any 
 thing wrong, and that herself and husband ought to be very grateful for 
 the deliverance thus brought to them. This, however, only served to in- 
 crease his wrath, and he made some remarks, amounting to something 
 
 85
 
 more than a hint, of his intention to revive in practice an old common- 
 law right, which, although now obsolete, yet was once connected with 
 the marital relation. Mr. McCutcheon, who was a areat stalwart Ken- 
 tuckian, full six feet six inches in height, with a habit of quoting hard 
 names from Shakspeare, as will hereafter be seen, seemed now to be 
 roused into something like a sudden sharp growl, which indicated that 
 he was not in the habit of showing his teeth for nothing; and that he 
 would probably give some little dog a most terrible bite before long. 
 
 "Harkee, here, you little mister," said McCutcheon, straightening 
 himself up from over the fire where he had been cooking meat. "Lookee 
 here, I say; if I hear you, you little pictur, saying another word upon that 
 subject, I'll put you on the fire there, and I'll broil you to a cracklin' in 
 two seconds." 
 
 Curtis cowered in an instant before the fire of the eyes that flashed 
 upon him; and his wife said, with a trembling voice, that ' ' Jotham meant 
 no harm; he did not intend to do such a thing for any thing in the 
 world — he was only tired, unwell, and a little fretful; but he didn't 
 mean what he said." 
 
 "He'd better not," said McCutcheon, as he stooped down again to 
 resume his cooking, "if he don't want me to tear off his arms, and beat 
 him with the bloody ends." 
 
 In a short time supper was ready; and McCutcheon said to Mr. Reed, 
 in a whisper, "Reed, ask that starveling, eelskin, snapper, and his wife, 
 to eat of our supper. I don't want to do it; but I know they must be 
 hungry as wolves. Poor thing, she looks as though she needed food. 
 He's cross, to be sure; but I'd feed Beelzebub, if he was hungry, rather 
 than have him go away and report that a Kentuckian ever turned any 
 one away empty." 
 
 "Well, for my part," replied Mr. Reed, with a laugh, "I would not 
 like to have the devil for a guest; but I'll do as you desire." 
 
 86
 
 Mr. Reed then kindly and cordially invited Mrs. Curtis and her 
 husband to partake of the evening meal which had been prepared. The 
 poor woman was hungry, and of course did not declme; but her hus- 
 band looked sullen, and sat like a spoiled boy in the pouts. 
 
 "Why," said McCutcheon at length, as he ran his fingers backward 
 through his long, bushy hair, and looked with well-affected fierceness 
 upon Curtis, "why don't you come to your supper?" 
 
 "I — I — I ca — can — can't eat." 
 
 "I know better," bellowed McCutcheon, in a voice of thunder. 
 "You're not sick; you can eat; you shall eat. You are as hungry as a wolf. 
 What's the use of being a fool here in the woods. If you don't get 
 right up now, and come here and sit down by your wife, and take hold 
 of your supper, sick or well, I'll take hold of you, and I'll shake you 
 right out of your trowsers in two seconds, you ugly little pictur, you." 
 
 This eloquent harangue evidently impressed the mind of Curtis, 
 with the conviction that at least seven evil ones had taken possession of 
 McCutcheon; and deeming it imprudent, at the time, to contend 
 against such odds he acquiesced, and contrived to do most ample justice 
 to the supper. 
 
 During the night, when Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon were sup- 
 posed to be asleep, Curtis commenced bestowing the most abusive 
 epithets upon his wife for having eaten so readily of the supper. She 
 seemed to be halt frightened out of her wits, and replied, in a faltering 
 voice, that he knew very well, that at that time, they had not a mouth- 
 ful remaining of the old dog. 
 
 "Reed, Reed!" said McCutcheon, in a low whisper, accompanied 
 with a smart nudge of the elbow in the ribs, "listen to that villainous 
 compound of all that is cowardly, that woman-fighter, that thing, who 
 is so fierce and pugnacious just now. Listen, Reed, she's crying. Shall 
 I get up, and beat him to death? Tell me, quickly!" 
 
 87
 
 "No, no!" replied Mr. Reed. "What will you beat him to death 
 for? Let them alone. It is not probable he will offer any personal vio- 
 lence to his wife." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know that," said McCutcheon, "but then he's making 
 her cry. It's almost breaking my heart, ' ' he continued, as he seemed to be 
 gulping down a sob. "I never could bear to hear a woman cry. And I 
 won't bear it," added he, with an emphatic expletive, and in a voice 
 which had gradually risen from a whisper to a shout. 
 
 His actions corresponded with his words; and Curtis, before he ex- 
 pected it, found himself performing sundry feats of ground and lofty 
 tumbling, which finally ended by his finding himself, by some process 
 of legerdemain, in a deep snow-drift, where he was told to remain until 
 it had cooled his wrath. 
 
 Curtis at length gathered himself up, and upon coming to the fire, 
 said something about his having fallen among thieves. McCutcheon 
 replied that he had just before fallen into a snow-drift, but that he had 
 previously fallen among the frosts and snows of the Sierra Nevada, 
 where he had been found by a couple of good Samaritans, who were not 
 willing to be called hard names, while they were taking him to an inn. 
 Nor would they permit him to abuse one whom he was under obligation 
 to cherish and protect. 
 
 Day at length dawned; the morning meal was prepared, and eaten. 
 Reed and McCutcheon then set about cachcing their beef, etc., up in 
 the trees, and the flour in Curtis' wagon, reserving only enough for 
 present use. They then resumed their journey, with all the animals, 
 except a mule that had frozen to death during the night. 
 
 After traveling about four miles, they encamped at the foot of the 
 valley. During the night Curtis again became very abusive. No one, 
 however, seemed inclined to notice him, except McCutcheon, who 
 said to Reed, in a whisper, "Reed, Reed! do you hear that fellow again, 
 that starveling, pitiful-hearted Titan, that plague of all cowards, that — " 
 
 88
 
 "Stop, stop," said Reed, amused at his quotations from Shakspeare, 
 and followina the example, continued — 
 
 'breathe awhile, 
 You tire yourself in base comparisons.' 
 
 "Well, well, I have no patience with him," said McCutcheon. "I 
 have a mind to get up and maul him, until nothing is left of him." 
 
 Curtis hearing a whisper, and having a very sensible recollection of the 
 snow-drift, observed during the remainder of the night a very becoming 
 silence, and his conduct was otherwise unexceptionable. In the morning, 
 however, he was observed before breakfast to take a firebrand to a place 
 some distance from the camp, as though he was about to make a separate 
 fire. This did not escape the keen eye of the rough and resolute Mc- 
 Cutcheon, who immediately went to him, and thundered out a series 
 of his favorite Shakspearian epithets — "You villainous coward! You 
 panderly rascal! You Phrygian Turk! You knave! You — You — " 
 
 Here he seemed to have reached the end of his breath, and of his vo- 
 cabulary at the same moment. But Curtis, anticipating what he would 
 have said, replied, that he was "afeard" of being killed, and that he had 
 gone out there to make a fire. 
 
 "Now march right back," said McCutcheon, "and sit down by the 
 fire, and behave yourself, and don't let me know you to make a Judy of 
 yourself any more, or I'll whip you half to death. If it was not for your 
 wife, we would leave you, and trouble ourselves no more with you. But 
 prudence requires us to take you both in together. But you will, I ex- 
 pect, provoke me to give you a most terrible thrashing." 
 
 After breakfast, the horses and mules were caught and packed. They 
 resumed their journey, and Curtis pushed forward for the purpose of 
 avoiding the labor of assisting to drive. McCutcheon observed it, and 
 suggested to Reed the propriety of calling back "that unconfinable 
 baseness," as he denominated Curtis. He was permitted to go forward, 
 
 89
 
 hovve\'er; he seemed to hurry on as though he knew that McCutcheon 
 or the pestilence was at his heels. About lo o'clock, a. m., a pack of 
 goods, owned by Curtis, became loosened, and fell under the mule. This 
 brought McCutcheon' s stentorian lungs into full play, in calling Curtis 
 to return. The hills and valleys echoed back the Shakspearian epithets 
 by which he sought to arrest the onward progress of the fugitive. Curtis 
 was driving through the snow at full speed. McCutcheon was behind 
 gaining upon him, and bellowing like "a bull of Bashan." Curtis was 
 in the mean time "booming it," as McCutcheon phrased it, as though 
 he every moment expected to feel the horns. At length, McCutcheon 
 came up with him, and suddenly restored him to hearing, by making 
 some half a dozen very professional applications, not to the organs af- 
 fected, but to another part, upon the principle of counter-irritation; 
 repeating the application some two or three times on their way back to 
 the mules. As they came within hearing distance McCutcheon called 
 out, "I tell you Reed, he was booming it! The Flemish drunkard — the 
 book of riddles — the mechanical salt-butter rascal — the Banbury 
 cheese — the base Gangorian wight, was going as fast as a race-horse, and 
 was as deaf as an adder, though I bellowed at him like a mad bull, when 
 no more than twenty feet from him." 
 
 This little incident having passed off, the party continued on until 
 night, when they encamped. The evening wore away without any thing 
 of much interest occurring. In the morning, after breakfast, they re- 
 sumed their journey. 
 
 After getting out of the snow, Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon gave 
 to Mrs. Curtis and her husband all the food that remained, and then 
 pushed on to Mr. Johnson's, where they arrived in the evening. 
 
 90
 
 Second expedition of Messrs. Reed and McCutcheon 
 
 ^^BOUT the 22d of February, 1S47, Mr. Reed again started from 
 / ^^ William Johnson's house, with nine men on foot, loaded 
 
 / ^^ with provisions. Mr. Eddy wished to accompam* him, 
 I ^^ but such was his weak and feeble condition, that it was 
 
 ^^^L_ ^J^^ not thought safe for him to attempt it. About the 27th 
 February, this party met that of Mr. Glover in Bear River valley, com- 
 ing out of the snow, at a place where the parties passed in one hour 
 from naked ground to ten feet of snow. Here Mr. Glover informed 
 him that, on the day previous, he had left John Denton at the head 
 of the wake of Yuva river, twenty-five miles distant. That they had 
 gathered for him a pile of u-ood, and left him with but a very scanty 
 supply of provisions, because they had not more themselves; and that if 
 Mr. Reed would hasten forward he might find him alive, Mr. Reed 
 pressed on; but he was too late; the vital spark had fled. He had died like 
 a lamp which ceases to burn for want of aliment. Without remaining to 
 observe any thing beyond the fact of his decease, a quilt was hastiK- 
 thrown over him, and the party pursued their journey. About 1 1 o'clock, 
 a. m., of each day, the snow would become so soft as not to sustain their 
 weight, and this made it necessar\' for them to remain in camp until mid- 
 night, at which time each day's journey was commenced. They thus 
 continued to toil on until March ist, when they arrived at the Mountain 
 Camp, where they found the emigrants in a most distressing condition. 
 W^hen Mr. Reed found them, they were in circumstances the most 
 desperate and shocking. He had in the morning sent forward three of 
 his strongest and most active young men, Charles Cady, Charles Stone, 
 and Mr. Clark, with provisions to the Mountain Camp, with direc- 
 tions to distribute the food among those most requiring it, and to re- 
 main by them until he came up, for the purpose of preventing them from 
 eating so much as to injure them. The first camp which he reached vi'as 
 
 91
 
 that of Mr. Brinn, whom he found with a sufficient supply of provisions, 
 consisting of beef which he had killed when he first made this camp. He 
 had previously consumed all, or nearly all, of his hides. He had, in fact, 
 been more provident in this respect than any of the other emigrants. 
 
 At this camp 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 the camp. But I knew that God was good, and would do what was 
 best. Is dear mamma living? Is Mr. Glover living? 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 mason, that he 
 would bring me and Tommy out of the mountain." Mr. Reed told 
 Patty that masons were every where the same, and that he had met her 
 mother and Mr. Glover, and had relieved him from his pledge, and 
 that he had himself come to her and little Tommy to redeem that 
 pledge, and to take out all that were able to travel. Mr. Reed, not see- 
 ing little Tommy, feared that he was dead. But Patty informed him, as 
 well as her sobs would permit, that he was sleeping. He immediately 
 descended through the snow-hole that led down into the cabin, and 
 found his little boy asleep, and reduced to a mere skeleton. The feel- 
 ings of the father upon seeing his child in a situation which may not 
 here be described, may be imagined. He woke him up, but the little boy 
 did not recognize him, and would frequently ask Patty, to whom he 
 looked as a sort of mother, if that really was his father. At length he be- 
 came assured and happy, and seemed to feel that he once more had a 
 protector and friend. 
 
 *It may be proper to mention that the author is not himself a mason. 
 
 92
 
 After giving some bread to his own and Mr. Brinn's children, he went 
 to Kiesburg's cabin, about two hundred yards distant, where he found 
 Mr. Stone, who had given to them some refreshments, and was wash- 
 ing the children's clothes. He found them in a most deplorable condi- 
 tion. Mr. Foster's child and Mr, Reed's were in bed, crying incessantly 
 for something to eat. They would stretch out their arms and beg, in the 
 most moving terms and accents, for food. Mr. Stone had already given 
 the children all that he prudently could. But such was the force of the 
 affecting appeal made by these poor, helpless, and unprotected sufferers, 
 that Mr. Reed could not restrain the promptings of his Irish heart, or 
 refrain from giving heed to their cries, and he gave them more, perhaps, 
 than was prudent, Mrs. Murphy, an amiable woman, and the grand- 
 mother of Mr. Foster's children, informed Mr. Reed that these chil- 
 dren had been in that bed fourteen days. The imagination must fill up 
 the picture. 
 
 Messrs, Reed and McCutcheon warmed water, and then divested 
 themselves of their clothing, and left it out upon the snow, in order to 
 avoid becoming polluted with vermin, thoroughly washed the children 
 in soap suds, oiled them, and wrapped them in flannel, and put them to 
 bed in comparative comfort. It is due to Mrs, Murphy to say, that she 
 could not prevent this condition in which Mr. Foster's child and Mr. 
 Reed's were found, for she was herself so reduced by famine, that she 
 was helpless. Mr. Reed was now under the necessity of helping her up. 
 She would sometimes weep, and then again laugh. She was, in short, 
 reduced to childishness. Such, indeed, was the condition of the greatest 
 number. 
 
 After the children were thus washed, and their wants supplied, Mr. 
 Reed took a kettle of warm water to Kiesburg, and proposed, with the 
 aid of Mr. McCutcheon, to perform the same offices for him. Kiesburg 
 seemed to be greatly moved, and exclaimed in broken English, "Oh, 
 Mr. Reed! is it possible that you have come to wash the feet and body 
 
 93
 
 of a poor miserable wretch who once sought to have you hung upon the 
 end of his wagon-tongue? I have so wronged you — have so mistaken 
 your whole character that I can not permit you to do it. Any one but 
 you may do it. This is too much." Mr. Reed said to him that it was an 
 office of humanity, which he was called upon to perform, irrespective 
 of the past; and that oblivion should cover the unhappy scenes and cir- 
 cumstances that had occurred by the way. The men had now, for the 
 first time, a little leisure to observe. The mutilated body of a friend, 
 having nearly all the flesh torn away, was seen at the door — the head 
 and face remaining entire. Half consumed limbs were seen concealed in 
 trunks. Bones were scattered about. Human hair of different colors 
 was seen in tufts about the fire-place. The sight was overwhelming; and 
 outraged nature sought relief by one spontaneous outcry of agony, and 
 grief, and tears. The air was rent by the wails of sorrow and distress that 
 ascended at once, and, as if by previous concert, from that charnel house 
 of death beneath the snow. 
 
 Messrs. Reed, Joseph Jaundro, Matthew Dofar, and Hiram Miller 
 then proceeded some eight miles to the camp of Messrs. Donner; Messrs 
 Turner, Wm. McCutcheon, and Britton Greenwood, being left with 
 Mrs. Graves, for the purpose of cachcing her few efi?^ects, and to have 
 the sufferers in readiness to return with the party to the settlements. 
 
 When Mr. Reed arrived there he found Messrs. Cady and Stone, 
 who had been sent in advance with provisions to this camp. They in- 
 formed him that when they arrived at the camp, Baptiste had just left 
 the camp of the widow of the late Jacob Donner, with the leg and thigh 
 of Jacob Donner, for which he had been sent by George Donner, the 
 brother of the deceased. That was given, but the boy was informed that 
 no more could be given, Jacob Donner' s body being the last they had. 
 They had consumed four bodies, and the children were sitting upon a 
 log, with their faces stained with blood, devouring the half-roasted liver 
 and heart of the father, unconscious of the approach of the men, of 
 
 94
 
 whom they took not the shghtest notice even after they came up. Mrs. 
 Jacob Donner was in a helpless condition, without any thing whatever 
 to eat except the bodv of her husband, and she declared that she would 
 die before she would eat of this. Around the fire were hair, bones, 
 skulls, and the fragments of half-consumed limbs. Mr. Reed and 
 party, after removing the tent to another place, and making Mrs. Don- 
 ner as comfortable as possible, retired for the purpose of being relieved 
 for a brief period from sights so terrible and revolting. They had not 
 gone far when they came to the snow-grave of Jacob Donner. His head 
 was cut off, and was lying with the face up, the snow and cold having 
 preserved all the features unaltered. His limbs and arms had been sev- 
 ered from the body which was cut open — the heart and liver being taken 
 out. The leg and thigh which the boy, John Baptiste, had obtained, had 
 been thrown back, upon the party coming up with relief. Other graves 
 were seen, but nothing remained in them but a few fragments. 
 
 The party then proceeded to the tent of George Donner, who was in 
 a weak and helpless condition. Mrs. Donner appeared to be strong and 
 healthy. She would not consent to ao, leaving her husband; and she 
 declined letting her children go, because she said that she hoped, from 
 what she had learned, that Mr. Woodworth, would be in camp in a 
 few days, at most, when she thought they would all be able to go into 
 the settlement. Mr. Cady was in the mean time sent back to the upper 
 camp with instructions to return that night with seven days* provisions. 
 After leaving a man to take care of the sufferers, and to give them their 
 food, Mr. Reed and party returned to the upper camp, taking two of 
 Jacob Donner's children, and bringing up a pair of new boots for Kies- 
 burg. After leaving Mr. Stone to take care of those at this camp, and to 
 give to them, m proper quantities and at proper intervals, seven days' 
 provisions, the party set out to cross the mountain. 
 
 The following are, in substance, extracts from a journal kept by one 
 of the emigrants, and are introduced here for the purpose of presenting 
 
 95
 
 at least an imperfect account of the sufferers in their Mountain Camp. 
 Although it possesses great interest, as showing some of the dire suffer- 
 ings of the miserable survivors who passed through an ordeal more 
 horrible and terrific than that of either fire or water, yet it must not be 
 regarded as perfect. A multitude of the most shocking and revolting 
 circumstances are designedly suppressed, as being unfit for the sober 
 pages of history. Notwithstanding the unspeakable distress which is 
 known by the world to have existed, and the thrilling scenes which the 
 narrative of this lamentable affair presents, the full story will never be 
 told, and the half of that which is known by the people of California 
 will never appear in print; and indeed ought not. 
 
 "Dec. 17. — Pleasant. William Murphy returned from the mountain 
 last evening. Milton and Noah started for Donner's, eight days ago, 
 
 96
 
 and not having returned, it is probable that they are lost in the snow." 
 
 "Dec. 19. — Snowed last night, but is thawing today, although the 
 wind is northwest." 
 
 "Dec. 20. — Clear and pleasant. Mrs. Reed is here. We have yet re- 
 ceived no account from Milton. Charles Burger set out for Donner's 
 but was unable to proceed, and turned back. These are tough times, but 
 we are not discouraged for our hope is in God. 
 
 "Dec. 21. — Milton got back last night from Donner's camp, and 
 brings with him the sad news of the death of Jacob Donner, Samuel 
 Shoemaker, Rianhard, and Smith. The others are in a low situation. 
 The snow fell during the whole of the last night, with a strong south- 
 west wind." 
 
 "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 request of unworthy sinners." 
 
 "Dec. 24. — Rained all night, and still continues. Poor prospect for 
 any kind of comfort, spiritual or temporal." 
 
 "Dec. 25. — Began to snow yesterday. Snowed all night, and it con- 
 tinues to fall rapidly. Extremely difficult to get wood. Offered our 
 prayers to God this Christmas morning. The prospect is appalling, but 
 we trust in Him." 
 
 "Dec. 27. — Cleared off yesterday, and continues clear. Wood grow- 
 ing scarcer. A tree when felled sinks into the snow, and is hard to get at." 
 
 "Dec. 30. — Fine, clear morning. Froze hard last night, about ten 
 o'clock." 
 
 "Dec. 31. — Last of the year. May we spend the coming year better 
 than we have the past. This we purpose to do, if it is the will of the Al- 
 mighty to deliver us from our present dreadful situation. Amen. Morn- 
 ing pleasant, but cloudy. Wind east by south. Looks like another snow- 
 storm. Snow-storms are dreadful to us. It is very deep." 
 
 "Jan. I, 1847. — We prayed the God of mercy to deliver us from our 
 
 97
 
 present calamity, if it be His holy will. Commenced snowing last night, 
 and snows a little yet. Provisions getting very scarce. Dug up a hide from 
 under the snow yesterday, but have not commenced on it yet." 
 
 "Jan. 3. — Fair during the day. Froze during the night. Mrs. Reed 
 talks of crossing the mountain with her children." 
 
 "Jan. 4. — Fine morning. Looks like spring. Mrs. Reed and Virginia, 
 Milton Elliot, and Eliza Williams, started a short time ago, with the 
 hope of crossing the mountains. Left their three children here. It was 
 harci for Mrs. Reed to part with them." 
 
 "Jan. 6. — Eliza came back yesterday, being unable to proceed. The 
 others kept ahead." 
 
 "Jan. 8. — Very cold this morning. Mrs. Reed and the others came 
 back, not being able to find the way on the other side of the mountain. 
 They have nothing to live on but hides." 
 
 "Jan. 10. — Began to snow last night, and it still continues. Wind 
 north-northwest." 
 
 "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." 
 
 "Jan. 14. — Cleared ofT yesterday. The sun shining brilliantly reno- 
 vates our spirits. Praise the God of Heaven!" 
 
 "Jan. 15. — Clear day again. Wind northwest. Mrs. Murphy snow- 
 blind. Lanthron not able to get wood. Has but one ax between him and 
 Kiesburg. Looks like another storm. Expecting some account from 
 Sutter's soon." 
 
 "Jan. 17, — Eliza Williams came here this morning. Lanthron crazy 
 last night. Provisions scarce. Hides our main subsistence. May the Al- 
 mighty send us help," 
 
 "Jan. 21. — Fine morning. John Baptiste and Mr. Denton came this 
 
 morning with Eliza, who will not eat hides. Mrs. sent her back to 
 
 live or die on them," 
 
 98
 
 "Jan. 22. — Began to snow after sunrise. Likely to continue. Wind 
 west," 
 
 "Jan. 23. — Blew hard, and snowed all night. The most severe storm 
 we have experienced this winter. Wind west." 
 
 "Jan. 26. — Cleared off yesterday. To-day fine and pleasant. Wind 
 southwest, hi hopes we are done with snow-storms. Those who went to 
 Sutter's Fort not yet returned. Provisions getting scant, and the people 
 growing weak, living on a small allowance of hides." 
 
 "Jan. 27. — Commenced snowing yesterday, and continues to-day. 
 Lewis S. Kiesburg died three days ago. Wood growing so scarce, that 
 we don't have fire enouah to cook our hides." 
 
 "Jan. 30. — Fair and pleasant. Wind west. Thawing in the sun. John 
 
 and Edward Brinn went to Mr. Graves' this morning. Mr. seized 
 
 upon Mrs. 's goods, to hold them until paid for a little food which 
 
 she bought. The hides which herself and family subsisted upon were 
 also taken away from her. An opinion may be formed from these facts 
 of the fare in camp. Nothing is to be had by hunting; yet, perhaps, there 
 will soon be." 
 
 ' 'Jan. 3 1 . — The sun does not shine out brilliantly this mornmg. Froze 
 hard last night. Wind northwest. Lanthron Murphy died last night, 
 about 10 o'clock. Mrs. Reed went to Graves' this morning, to look 
 after her goods." 
 
 "Feb. 5. — Snowed hard until 12 o'clock last night. Many uneasy for 
 fear we shall perish with hunger. We have but a little meat left, and only 
 three hides. Mrs. Reed has nothing but one hide, and that is in Graves' 
 house. Milton lives there, and likely to keep that. Eddy's child died last 
 night," 
 
 "Feb. 8. — It snowed faster last night and to-day than it has done this 
 winter before. Still continues. Wind southwest. Murphy's folks and 
 Kiesburg's say they can not eat hides. I wish we had enough of them. 
 Mrs, Eddy died on the night of the 7th," 
 
 99
 
 "Feb. 9. — Mrs. Pike's child all but dead. Milton is at Murphy's, 
 not able to get out of bed. Kiesburg never gets up. Says he is not able. 
 Mrs. Eddy and child were buried in the snow to-day. Wind south- 
 east." 
 
 "Feb. 10. — Beautiful morning. Thawing in the sun. Milton Elliot 
 died last night at Murphy's shanty. Mrs. Reed went to see after his 
 effects this morning. J. Denton trying to borrow meat for Graves. Had 
 none to give. They had nothing but hides. All are entirely out of meal, 
 but a little we have. Our hides are nearly all eaten up; but, with God's 
 help, spring will soon smile upon us." 
 
 "Feb. iz. — Warm, thawy morning." 
 
 "Feb. 14. — Fine morning, but cold. Buried Milton Elliot in the 
 snow. John Denton not well." 
 
 "Feb. 15. — Morning cloudy until 9 o'clock, then cleared off warm. 
 Mrs. Graves refused to give Mrs. Reed her hides, and to prevent her 
 from getting Sutter's pack-hides to eat, put them upon her shanty." 
 
 "Feb. 16. — Commenced raining last evening, and then turned to 
 snow in the night, which continued to fall until morning. Weather 
 changeable; sunshine, and then light showers of hail, accompanied by 
 strong winds. We feel very unwell, and the snow is not getting much 
 less at present." 
 
 "Feb. 19. — Froze hard last night. Acjuila Glover, R. S. Mootrey, 
 Joseph Sell, Daniel Rhodes, John Rhodes, Daniel Tucker, and Edward 
 Coffeymier, arrived from California with provisions, but left the 
 greater part on the way. To-day is clear and warm for this region." 
 
 "Feb. 20. — John Rhodes, Daniel Tucker, and R. S. Mootrey went to 
 Donner's camp this morning, and returned this evening, bringing seven 
 persons to go into the settlements. They start to-morrow." 
 
 "Feb. 21. — To-day, at noon, the party set out with twenty- three 
 of our number, some of them being in a very weak state. Two of Mr. 
 Reed's children brought back." 
 
 100
 
 "Feb. 22. — Mrs. Kiesburg started with the CaHfornians yesterday, 
 and left her husband here unable to go. Pike's child died two days ago, 
 and was buried in the snow this morning." 
 
 "Feb. 23. — Froze hard last night. To-day pleasant and thawy; has 
 the appearance of spring, all but the deep snow. Wind south-southeast. 
 Shot a dog today, and dressed his flesh.' 
 
 "Feb. 25. — To-day, Mrs. Murphy says, the wolves are about to dig 
 up the dead bodies around her shanty. The nights are too cold to watch, 
 but they hear them howl." 
 
 "Feb. 26. — Hungry times. Mrs. Murphy said here yesterday, that 
 she thought she would commence on Milton and eat him. I do not think 
 she has done so yet. It is distressing. The Donners told the California 
 folks six days ago, that they would commence on the dead people, if 
 they did not succeed that day or the next in finding their cattle, then 
 ten or twelve feet under the snow. They did not know the spot or near 
 it. They have done it ere this." 
 
 "Feb. 28. — One solitary Indian passed by yesterday, coming from the 
 lake. He had a heavy pack on his back, and gave me five or six roots re- 
 sembling onions in shape, having tough fibers, and tasting something 
 like a sweet potato." 
 
 "March I. — Mr. J. F. Reed and nine men arrived this morning 
 from Bear Valley with provisions. They are to start in two or three 
 days, and cache our goods here. They say that the snow will remain until 
 June." 
 
 The foregoing extracts from a journal kept during the winter, will pre- 
 sent some imperfect view of the scenes and events which occurred in the 
 Mountain Camp during the long and dreary winter. But this journal 
 aifords only indistinct glimpses of scenes as they passed. The full and 
 complete record of even those circumstances which were entered in that 
 journal were never read by above three persons. They preserve a silence 
 as unbroken as the grave. But many things occurred in that Mountain 
 
 101
 
 Camp previous to the first of March, which were not written, except 
 by the recording angel; and which will never be fully known until God 
 shall bring every secret work into judgment, whether it be good or evil. 
 
 After leaving about seven days' provisions with them to sustain them 
 until Mr. Woodworth could come to them with relief, Mr. Reed's 
 party commenced their return to the settlements, with seventeen of the 
 unhappy beings, whose condition during the winter is in part shown by 
 the foregoing journal. These persons were Patrick Brinn, wife, and five 
 children; Mrs. Graves and four children; Mary and Isaac Donner, 
 children of Jacob Donner; Solomon Hook, a step-son of Jacob Donner, 
 and two of his children. He had met his wife with two of his children 
 in the Bear River valley. 
 
 On the first day they traveled but three miles, although greatly urged 
 by Mr. Reed to go faster and further. They encamped that night on the 
 side of Truckee's Lake. It will scarcely be credited that on this night 
 this company of emigrants, although surrounded by circumstances of 
 extreme peril, amidst the most terrible scenes, and still struggling with 
 death, were in fine spirits, and some of them uttered pleasantries which 
 made their companions smile, norwithstanding the horrors of their 
 condition. Patrick Brinn played about two hours upon a violin, which 
 had been owned by Jay Fosdick, and which Mrs. Graves was taking into 
 the settlements for him, she supposing him to be still living. 
 
 On the day that Mr. Reed's party left the camp in Bear River valley, 
 he instructed the men with him not to let the sufferers know any thing 
 in reference to the disasters which befell the party that came in with Mr. 
 Eddy. This was necessary, because of the effects which might, and prob- 
 ably would, have resulted from the depression the communication of 
 the intelligence would have produced. 
 
 The night passed away, and in the morning a young man who was 
 carrying $500 in specie for Mrs. Graves, said to one of his companions 
 in a vein of pleasantry, such as that in which they had indulged during 
 
 102
 
 the previous night, "I think that we had better play euchre, for the pur- 
 pose of determining who shall have this money." Although nothing 
 was seriously meditated, yet the remark alarmed Mrs. Graves, who, when 
 the company set forward, remained behind for the purpose of conceal- 
 ing the money. Mrs. Graves having perished a few days after this, a 
 knowledge of her secret perished with her. The party traveled about five 
 miles to the foot of the mountain and encamped, Mr. Reed finding it 
 impossible to induce them to go further. The music of the violin again 
 beguiled the heavily-passing hours. It could not, however, dispel the 
 anxiety which Mr. Reed felt, upon observing a heavy and portentous 
 cloud that hung, with a threatening and vengeful aspect, about the top 
 of the mountam. Fearing the effects which might result from communi- 
 cating his apprehensions to any one, he looked in silence upon the 
 gathering storm, which was to sweep with desolating fury and a fearful 
 energy over the sides of the mountains; the pines, standing upon which, 
 seemed even then, as they swayed to and fro in the wind, to be moaning 
 for the dead. After the evening meal, there remained only provisions 
 sufficient to last them one day and a half. On the following morning Mr. 
 Reed sent Joseph Jaundro, Mathew Dofar, and Mr. Turner forward, 
 with instructions to get supplies at a cache that had been made about 
 fifteen miles from that place, and to return. If, however, that should be 
 found robbed, they were to go still further on to a second cache, unless, 
 in the mean time, they should meet Mr. Woodworth coming to the 
 relief of the sufferers; in which event, they were instructed to return 
 with him as soon as possible. Upon these being sent forward, the party 
 resumed their journey, expecting to meet the supplies thus sent on the 
 next day. They crossed the Sierra Nevada, and after traveling about ten 
 miles, encamped on a bleak point on the north side of a little valley, 
 near the head of Yuva river. During the night a most terrible snow- 
 storm came down upon them, accompanied by a fierce wind, which 
 increased to a tremendous gale before morning. The altitude of the 
 
 103
 
 mountain at the pass is 9838 feet. The camp was situated about 1500 
 feet below, and upon about 40 feet of snow — the snow above being 
 from 60 to 100 feet deep. The storm continued, without the shghtest 
 intermission, for two days and three nights. On the morning of the third 
 day the dark and angry clouds gradually passed off, and the air became, 
 if possible, more intensely cold. The sufferings of the party, and espe- 
 cially of the unhappy and emaciated famine stricken emigrants, can 
 never be portrayed with that vividness of coloring which is necessary 
 to convey to the mind an adequate conception of what they endured. 
 It is not possible to present upon the cold, and necessarily imperfect 
 pages of a narrative, a true picture of the distress and anguish of spirit 
 with which this terrible storm overwhelmed them. Individuals who have 
 been so unfortunate as to have been at some times similarly situated, 
 can sympathize, to some extent, with those upon whom it descended 
 with resistless fury. But the more inexperienced reader, sitting in a 
 comfortable parlor, by a cheerful fire, surrounded by happy faces, can 
 never know the suffering of body and tortures of mind, endured by 
 those who felt that they were abandoned by those whose duty it was to 
 come to their relief. 
 
 The bleak point upon which they encamped was selected, not from 
 choice, but necessity. Mr. Glover had encamped here on his way to the 
 Mountain Camp, and the snow had in consequence been partially 
 trodden down. It was an object to encamp there, in order to enable the 
 sufferers to keep their feet dry. They had, moreover, traveled ten miles, 
 which, if the feeble condition of the emigrants be considered, will at 
 once be seen to be a hard day's travel, especially so when it is remem- 
 bered that the party had crossed the mountains. Mr. Glover's party had 
 also left at it some logs; and this, too, was an object with men who, in 
 addition to assisting forward the sufferers during the day, were under 
 the necessity of performing the severest camp duty at night. 
 
 104
 
 The manner in which the fires upon these terrible snows were made 
 by those who were engaged m these expeditions was as follows: — two 
 green logs were cut and laid down at a distance corresponding with the 
 length of the fire necessary to be made. Large green logs of pine or fir 
 were then cut and placed trans\ersely upon the first two. These served 
 as a foundation upon which to build the fire up out of the snow, and 
 upon these the fire was made by piling on dry wood. Boughs were cut 
 down and laid upon the snow around the fire, and upon these the emi- 
 grants lay, with their feet to the fire. If the green logs burnt through, the 
 fire fell upon the snow below, and was of course extinguished. Unless, 
 therefore, this could be prevented by putting in other green logs, there 
 was the greatest danger of all perishing with the cold. The heat of the 
 fire above would also sometimes melt the snow below; and if this melt- 
 ing was greater at one end, or upon one side than another, the logs would 
 become displaced, and the fire rolling down into the snow would be- 
 come extinguished. If the process of melting was uniform, a hole in the 
 snow would thus be made, varying from ten to thirty feet deep. 
 
 Such were some of the dangers to which they were exposed during the 
 continuance of this dreadful storm, especially on the third night. Boughs 
 had been set down around the fire. The snow was then thrown from the 
 inside against the boughs, and upon the outside, so as to form a bank 
 to break off the force of the wind and driving snow, which fell so thick 
 as to make it impossible to see beyond a few feet. The cold was so in- 
 tense as to make it impracticable to chop more than a few minutes with- 
 out returning to the fire to warm. The party had all lain down, and were 
 seeking to shelter themselves beneath their blankets. The driving snow 
 soon covered them up. Upon some of them rising, the logs were found 
 displaced, and the fire almost extinguished. The men, women, and chil- 
 dren, were all so cold as to be in great danger of freezing. Mr. Reed had 
 become snow-blind during the evening, and it was impossible lor him 
 to do any thing. The men, with the exception of Hiram Miller, and 
 
 105
 
 MRS. BRINN IN TRIBULATION 
 
 Wm. McCutcheon, were worn down and disheartened. All became 
 greatly alarmed. The children were all crying. One of the women was 
 weeping — another praying. A portion of Mr. Reed's men were also 
 praying. The two above named were alternately struggling to save the 
 expiring coals, and swearing at the others, urging them to leave off 
 praying and go to work for the purpose of saving the fire; assuring them 
 that all would inevitably perish before morning. Mrs. Brinn's voice 
 was heard above the roaring of the storm, the weeping of the women 
 and children, the prayers of some of the men and the swearing of others. 
 She screamed, "Mr. Rade! Mr. Rade! Do in the name of the blessed 
 Vargin make yer min get up and make a fire. We're all frazin' — every 
 sowl of us! In the name of Saint Patrick and the Vargin, make them get 
 up. They are all gettin' three dollars a day to take us out of the snow, 
 
 106
 
 and here they are a-lcttin' us all fraze. The Vargin save us! Oh! you've 
 brought us here to murther us! You brought us avvav from our com- 
 fortable camp to fraze us! Oh! johnny's fell down in the pit and is kilt 
 intirelv. Patrick's froze to death. Little Jammy's legs are burnt off by 
 the knees; and Patsy's heart has sased to bate for the space of faftane 
 minutes!" Here Mr. McCutcheon, no longer able to bear this torrent of 
 words, with a multitude of adjectives and expleti\es, informed her, in 
 a voice he contrived to raise above hers, that if she did not "sase" this 
 abuse and in\ective, he would, in less time than "fliftane minutes," 
 make her heart "sase to bate." The whole scene, though one of distress 
 and the most imminent peril, was one in which the comic and tragical, 
 the terrible and the ludicrous were strangely mingled. At length, how- 
 ever, a lire was made, and it was soon found that Johnny had not been 
 "kilt" nor Patrick froze to death, nor little Jammy "burnt off by the 
 knees," and that Patsy's heart was still "bating," and that Mrs. Brinn's 
 tongue was running with an increased velocity, 
 
 Mornma came at length, and the storm passed away. The whole 
 party had then been two days without any sort of food. Mr. Reed urged 
 them to resume the journev. None of the party, however, were able to 
 travel except Solomon Hook and Patrick Brinn and family. The latter 
 affirmed that the\- could remain in camp better without food than 
 travel without it. Mary Donner had burned her foot very much durinc; 
 the previous night, and, although she made an cflort, she soon fell, and 
 was assisted back to camp. Mr. Reed and part\-, after lca\'ing wood for 
 three days, then set out, takina his two children and Solomon Hook, 
 Mr. Miller carried Tom, Solomon Hook also walked. Patty refused 
 to let her father carry her, and continued to tra\el in the newly fallen 
 snow, into which they all sunk about two feet. Her father frequently 
 asked her if she was not tired or cold, but such was her energy and cour- 
 age, that she continued to tra\cl on foot, refusing to be carried. At 
 length she called out to her father that she saw the stars and a multitude 
 
 107
 
 of angels. He immediately saw that she was freezing, and having wrapped 
 her in a blanket, carried her upon his back. The child derived warmth 
 from the body of her father. The party were all without food, and Mr. 
 Reed had no hope of obtaining assistance from Mr. Woodworth. In fact, 
 he informed the eleven, he had been under the necessity of leaving, that 
 Mr. Woodworth ought to have met them long before, and that to rely 
 upon him any more, was leaning upon a broken stick. The men were 
 very much reduced, from want of food, and worn down by toil. They 
 were, in consequence, greatly discouraged, and expressed their fears that 
 they would all perish; but Patty, who was herself, as has been seen, so 
 near perishing in the morning, said, "No! no! God has not brought us 
 so far to let us perish now." The remark of the child so filled the heart 
 of the rough and resolute McCutcheon, that his eyes immediately filled 
 with tears, that froze as they fell, and he exclaimed, with an oath, ' 'Boys, 
 if there is an angel on earth, Patty is that angel. Just listen to the child." 
 No apology can be made for swearing; and yet the first wish of the heart 
 is, that the tears of the recording angel may have blotted out the oath 
 forever. 
 
 Soon after arriving at the encampment, Mr. Stone and Mr. Cady, 
 who had been left at the Mountain Camp, came up. All the men, ex- 
 cepting Mr. Miller and Mr. Stone, found, upon coming to the fire, 
 that their feet were without sensation. Mr. Reed, suspecting that they 
 were frozen, thrust his into the snow, and advised the others to do so. 
 Some of them did it. Mr. Cady, Mr. Dunn, and Mr. Greenwood lost 
 more or less of their toes. Some of them were crippled for life. 
 
 The next morning, the party resumed their journey, this being the 
 fourth day they had all been without food. Late in the afternoon, they 
 found a little that had been left in a tree by Mr. Dofar, who had at 
 length, with Mr. Jaundro and Mr. Turner, got forward to a small cache. 
 It will be remembered that these men had been sent forward for pro- 
 visions, when the party arrived at the Starved Camp, where Brinn and 
 
 108
 
 his family had been left. The storm, however, had caught these, and 
 they were themselves near perishing, Mr. Turner had been so much 
 frozen, that he was with great difficulty taken forward. They had come 
 to the first cache, which they found robbed by wild animals. After the 
 storm abated, they had proceeded on to the second cache. A part of this 
 was found, and with it Mr. Dofar had returned, and after depositing 
 it in such a manner as to enable Mr. Reed's party to find it, pursued his 
 way toward Mr. Woodworth's camp. 
 
 Alittle strengthened by this timely supply, the partycontinued on until 
 night, and encamped. Mr. Cady and Mr.' Greenwood had, however, 
 pushed on with the hope of finding Mr. Woodworth. They arrived at 
 his camp after night, I believe, and informed him of the condition of the 
 party. After dark, Woodworth came to Mr. Reed's camp, with Mr. 
 John Starks and Mr. Oakley, the two latter carrying provisions. 
 
 This party, finally, after immense toil and extreme peril, arrived in 
 the settlement, without further disaster, or loss of life. 
 
 109
 
 Expedition of Messrs. Foster and Eddy from the Cali- 
 fornia Settlements to the Mountain Camp 
 
 THE CHAPTER which I have devoted to showing what 
 were the nature and extent of the preparations made by the 
 people of Cahfornia for the rehef of the sufferers of the 
 Mountain Camp, presents the facts which show the manner 
 in which Passed-midshipman S. E. Woodworth became con- 
 nected with the expeditions for the relief of the emigrants. 
 
 Furnished with the most ample supplies, Mr. Woodworth set for- 
 ward with instructions from Captain J. B. Hull, U. S. navy, and at that 
 time commander of the northern district of California, to use every 
 possible exertion to rescue the unhappy sufferers, agreeing, on the part 
 of the United States, to pay whatever might be necessary to prevent his 
 countrymen from perishing. 
 
 Four days after Mr. Woodworth's party left Johnson's ranch, 
 Messrs. Foster and Eddy obtained horses which had been purchased 
 under the order of Captain Hull. With these they set out to meet Mr. 
 Reed and his party. 
 
 Mr. Eddy had heard that his wife and one of his children had perished, 
 but he cherished a feeble hope that he was not left to mourn the loss of 
 all; and that he would find one of his children with Mr. Reed; and in 
 any event he felt it to be a duty which he owed to suffering humanity, 
 to do all in his power to rescue others, although his wif^e and children 
 might be no more. Mr. Foster believed that his child yet survived. He 
 hoped also to find his mother-in-law, Mrs. Murphy, and his brother- 
 in-law, Simon Murphy, alive. 
 
 On the second day after they left, they arrived at Bear River valley, 
 where they found Passed-midshipman Woodworth remaining in camp 
 with one man to bring water, make fires, and cook for him. There were 
 also other men in other ways to assist him. Messrs. Eddy and Foster 
 
 111
 
 believed that at that time he was over the mountain, and upon inquiring 
 of him why he was not, he rephed that he could not go without a guide. 
 Mr. Eddy rephed that he had the best guide in the snow trail of those 
 who had preceded him, Mr. Woodworth promised that he would set 
 forward on the following morning, but he advised Messrs. Foster and 
 Eddy not to attempt the passage of the mountain. They informed him 
 that they had passed over under vastly more difficult circumstances, 
 and that they would certainly attempt it again. 
 
 They according set out, eight in number, on the following morning. 
 Having crossed a ridge, they arrived at Yuva river, where Passed-mid- 
 shipman Woodworth, who had become tired from carrying his blanket, 
 proposed, at about 3 o'clock, p. m., to encamp. That night two of Mr. 
 Reed's men came to Mr. Woodworth's camp, and informed him that 
 Mr. Reed's party were encamped about one mile in advance (in the di- 
 rection of the mountains\ Mr. Woodworth then went to Mr. Reed's 
 camp, and after conversing with him, returned. Mr. Reed had informed 
 him that some miles from that place he had left fourteen of the suf- 
 ferers. Mr. Woodworth asked the men with him, if they would go to 
 the relief of these emigrants, and received a reply in the negative. 
 Messrs. Foster and Eddy proposed to make themselves responsible for 
 almost any sum to persons who would go with them. To this it was 
 replied that they, having lost all their property and money, were irre- 
 sponsible. J. F. Reed and Hiram Miller said that they would be respon- 
 sible for any amount, for which Messrs. Eddy and Foster would engage. 
 But these it was said were in the condition of the first. Mr. John Starks 
 offered to go out without any reward beyond that derived from the 
 consciousness of doing a good act. But the snow made it prudent to have 
 
 *I ought to say here, that in this chapter I omit several facts communicated to me by 
 the emigrants, because I do not wish unnecessarily to involve myself in a newspaper con- 
 troversy with others, and because their omission does not affect the fidelity of a nar- 
 rative, having for its object the showing of how and in what numbers the sufferers were 
 rescued. — Author. 
 
 112
 
 only light men for the service. It was necessary' for each man to carry fifty 
 pounds of provisions; and this, added to Mr. Starks' own weight, of 
 two hundred and twenty-four pounds, made it imprudent for him to go. 
 
 Being unable to induce any of them to consent to go, Messrs. Eddy 
 and Foster were about to set out alone. Mr. Reed, however, remon- 
 strated against this, and at length induced them to consent to return to 
 Bear River valley, where he said he would use his utmost efforts to pre- 
 vail upon Mr. Woodworth and his party to enter upon the enterprise. 
 Upon returning to Bear River valley, Mr. Woodworth finally said that 
 he would engage, under the authority he had received from Capt. Hull 
 to pay three dollars per day to every man who would go, and fifty dol- 
 lars in addition to every man who would bring out a child not his own. 
 Mr. Eddy hired Hiram Miller, formerly of Springfield, Illinois, engag- 
 ing to pay him fifty dollars. Mr. Foster hired a Mr. Thompson for the 
 same sum. Howard Oakley, John Starks, and Mr. Stone looked to Capt. 
 Hull for their wages. 
 
 The company thus organized, through the instrumentality of Messrs. 
 Eddy and Foster set out for the Mountain Camp, on the following 
 morning. They encamped that night about halfway up Yuva river, in 
 fifteen feet of snow. The next day at 4 o'clock, they arrived at the 
 camp of those whom Mr. Reed had been compelled to leave. The fire at 
 the Starved Camp had melted the snow down to the ground, and the 
 hole thus made was about twelve or fifteen feet in diameter, and twenty- 
 four feet deep. As the snow had continued to melt, they made steps by 
 which they ascended and descended. 
 
 The picture of distress which was here presented, was shocking in- 
 deed. And yet Patrick Brinn and his wife seemed not in any degree to 
 realize the extent of their peril, or that they were in peril at all. They 
 were found lying down sunning themselves, and evincing no concern 
 for the future. They had consumed the two children of Jacob Donner. 
 
 *During my sojourn in California, I saw this debt paid. 
 
 113
 
 Mrs. Graves' body was lying there with almost all the flesh cut away 
 from her arms and limbs. Her breasts were cut off, and her heart and 
 liver taken out, and were all being boiled in a pot then on the fire. Her 
 little child, about thirteen months old, sat at her side, with one arm 
 upon the body of its mangled mother, and sobbing bitterly, cried. Ma! 
 ma! ma! It was a helpless and innocent lamb among the wolves of the 
 wilderness. Mr. Eddy took up its wasted form in his arms, and touched 
 even to tears with the sight he witnessed, he kissed its wan and pale 
 cheeks again and again; and wept even more bitterly in the anguish of 
 his spirit as he thought of his own dear ones, and the departed companion 
 of his perils and sorrows. The child looked up imploringly into his 
 face, and with a silent but expressive eloquence, besought him to be its 
 protector. In a few minutes it nestled in his bosom, and seemed to feel 
 assured that it once more had a friend. As soon as possible, he made some 
 thin soup for the infant, which revived it, and, with the exception of an 
 occasional short convulsive sob or sigh, it again appeared quiet and 
 happy. It was brought safely into the settlements, where its very mis- 
 fortunes made friends for it. But it drooped and withered away like a 
 flower severed from the parent stem. It now blooms in the paradise of 
 God, in a better and happier clime, where the storms and disasters of 
 life will affect it no more. 
 
 After supplying these emigrants with food, Messrs. Oakley, Starks, 
 and Stone were left to lead them on to Bear River valley, and to carry 
 out Mrs. Graves' babe and two other children. Messrs. Eddy, Foster, 
 Thompson, and Miller, started at about 4 o'clock, on the following 
 morning, for the Mountain Camp, where they arrived at about 10 
 o'clock, a. m. 
 
 A more shocking picture of distress and misfortune, can not be 
 imagined, than the scene they witnessed upon their arrival. Many of 
 those who had been detained by the snows had starved to death. Their 
 bodies had been devoured by the wretched survivors; and their bones 
 
 114
 
 were lying in and around the camps. A body with half the flesh torn 
 from it, was lying near the door. Upon turning over a head which was 
 severed from the body, Mr. Eddy instantly recognized the familiar face 
 of an old friend and traveling companion. A dead child lay near. The 
 wild, fierv, and fierce look of the eyes, and the emaciated and ghastly 
 appearance of the survivors added tenfold horror to this scene of the 
 Mountain Camp. 
 
 It is impossible for human language to describe the change wrought 
 in the feelmgs of those who, but a few weeks before, would have pre- 
 ferred a thousand deaths to eating human flesh. The change which their 
 unspeakable sufferings had produced seemed to affect the very texture 
 of their nature and being. In the solitude and horror of the Mountain 
 Camp, long nights of physical suflFering and mental anguish had suc- 
 ceeded each other, in a manner of which it is impossible to have an ade- 
 quate idea. Days had followed each other in a long succession; but no 
 sun of hope had arisen to dispel the darkness of their misery; and as the 
 long nights came on, the yet driving snow was heaped in impenetrable 
 drifts above them, and extinguished even the dim rays which had some- 
 times shone fitfully through the dark clouds of disaster, which seemed 
 to be fast thickening, and settling down upon them in a night of death. 
 Surmisings had often been indulged, as to their probable fate; and ques- 
 tions had been asked for the thousandth time, as to the probabilities of 
 relief. They had made calculations for the next and succeeding meals, 
 as they sat gloomily around the fires of their miserable camps. Some had 
 added the last little fuel to the dim and flickering flame, and had given 
 themselves up to the ravings of despair and madness, as they felt the 
 crush of their reliance for aid from the settlements. Others had bowed 
 their heads in moody silence upon the palms of their hands, and given 
 themselves up to the tortures of thought. Here and there one was 
 found, in whose face meekness and resignation were visible, and they 
 seemed to say, "Father, not my will, but thine be done." 
 
 115
 
 Day after day had passed away, and the scanty store of food, miserable 
 and loathsome as it was, had rapidly diminished, until the last hide had 
 been consumed. Then hunger, keen, gnawing, and maddening, preyed 
 upon them, until it might have been said of those who unlike some of 
 their more miserable companions, had up to that time refrained from 
 eating human flesh, "In their gloomy looks you might see the longings 
 of the cannibal." Many expedients had been discussed, for the purpose 
 of avoidincT the dreadful alternative of dying themselves, or of killing 
 their companions, by lot or otherwise, to preserve their own lives. But 
 at that juncture a greater number of persons perished from famine, 
 than was necessary to supply, for a time, all the miserable survivors with 
 this horrible food. 
 
 It is said that, immediately previous to this, a sacrifice had been agreed 
 upon, and that an individual, who was supposed to have less claims to 
 life than the others, had been selected as the victim. But Providence 
 interposed, and some of them sank into the arms of death, whispering 
 praise for unmerited mercies; while others expired, cursing their miser- 
 able fate. And now those who, but a short time before would have 
 shuddered at the thought of devouring the dead bodies of their com- 
 panions, rejoiced at their decease, and regarded it as a providential inter- 
 ference in their behalf. 
 
 In a very brief period, all the fountains of the heart's purest, noblest, 
 and best affections were dried up, and in some instances every tie was 
 sundered by the one great absorbing thought of individual self-preserva- 
 tion, which led them to escape, if possible, and without regard to 
 others, from the calamities surrounding them. 
 
 Something was absolutely necessary to be done to sustain their 
 miserable existence; yet all of them, except Kiesburg, had refrained 
 from this most monstrous food as long as any thing else could be had. 
 Once, when the snows had partially melted away, and the emigrants 
 were enabled to find four hides and a dead bullock, upon which this 
 
 116
 
 man, as did the other emigrants, might have subsisted for a time, he 
 took a child of Mr. Foster's, aged about four years, and devoured it 
 before morning. What adds, if possible, to the horror of this horrible 
 meal, is the fact that the child was alive when it was taken to bed; lead- 
 ing to the suspicion that he strangled it, although he denies this charge. 
 This man also devoured Mr. Eddy's child, before noon on the next 
 day, and was among the first to communicate the fact to him. When 
 asked by the outraged father why he did not eat the hides and bullock, 
 he coolly replied, that he preferred human flesh, as being more palatable, 
 and containing more nutriment. 
 
 Such was the horrible and emaciated appearance of this man that 
 Mr. Eddv, as he informed me, could not shed his blood there; but he 
 resolved to kill him upon his landing at San Francisco, if he ever come 
 to the place. Mr. Eddy subsequently armed himself for that purpose, 
 but was prevented by Mr. J. F. Reed and Edwin Bryant, Esq., the author 
 of "What I saw in California." 
 
 I would without hesitancy express the opinion, that Kiesburg was 
 at the time insane, had he not, long after his subsequent arrival in the 
 settlements of- California, shown himself to be a wild beast, by declaring 
 with a profane expletive, that "A man is a fool who prefers poor Cali- 
 fornia beef to human flesh." But the closing scenes of the Mountain 
 Camp will more fully show that this man is perhaps without a parallel 
 in history. 
 
 Whatever may be our feelings toward Kiesburg, we should not cen- 
 sure others who were already overwhelmed with misfortunes, but pity 
 their condition, rather than cherish indignation against them for doing 
 that which they could not avoid. We should rather shed tears of sorrow 
 and sympathy for those who were reduced to such dreadful extremities, 
 that their own lives could only be preserved by devouring the bodies 
 of their companions. It will be impossible to prevent some share of our 
 indignation from being directed against those who, by inducing the 
 
 117
 
 emigrants to leave the usual route, were the causes of their misfortunes. 
 
 The party of Messrs. Eddy and Foster, upon their arrival at the 
 Mountain Camp, found five living children, to wit: three of George 
 Donner's, one of Jacob Conner's, and one of Mrs. Murphy's, They 
 also found a man whose name is Clarke. He was a shoemaker. He had 
 been a sailor also, and I believe he ran away from the ship. I mention 
 these particulars that he may not be confounded with a worthy gentle- 
 man of the same name in San Francisco, with whom I traveled upon a 
 part of my journey to Oregon. 
 
 Clarke had gone out with Mr, Reed, I believe, under the pretense 
 of assisting the emigrants. He was found with a pack of goods upon his 
 back, weighing about forty pounds, and also two guns, about* to set 
 off with his booty. This man actually carried away this property, which 
 weighed more than did a child he left behind to perish. But this is not 
 the only instance of the property of emigrants in distress being ap- 
 propriated under some pretense, or directly stolen by thieves who 
 prowled about the camp. 
 
 In addition to these, there were in camp, Mrs, Murphy, Mr. and 
 Mrs. George Donner, and Kiesburg — the latter, it was believed, having 
 far more strength to travel than others who had arrived in the settle- 
 ments. 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. 
 
 Mrs. George Donner was in good health, was somewhat corpulent, 
 and certainly able to travel. But her husband was in a helpless condition, 
 and she would not consent to leave him while he survived. She expressed 
 her solemn and unalterable purpose, which no danger and peril could 
 change, to remain, and perform for him the last sad offices of duty and 
 affection. She manifested, however, the greatest solicitude for her 
 children; and informed Mr. Eddy that she had fifteen hundred dollars 
 in silver, all of which she would give to him, if he would save the lives 
 
 118
 
 of the children. He informed her that he would not carry out one hun- 
 dred dollars for ail that she had, but that he would save the children, 
 or perish in the effort. 
 
 The party had no provisions to leave for the sustenance of these un- 
 happy and unfortunate beinas. After remaining about two hours, Mr. 
 Eddy informed Mrs. Donner that he was constrained by the force of 
 circumstances to depart. It was certain that George Donner would never 
 rise from the miserable bed upon which he had lain down, worn out by 
 toil, and wasted bv famine. It was next to absolutely certain, if Mrs. 
 Donner did not leave her husband, and avail herself of the opportunity 
 then presented for being conducted into the settlement, that she would 
 perish by famine, or die a violent death at the hands of a cannibal. The 
 instinct of a mother strongly urged her to accompany her children, 
 that she might be able to contribute her own personal efforts and at- 
 tention to save the lives of her offspring. The natural love of lilc, too, 
 was without doubt then felt, urging her to fly from a scene of so many 
 horrors and dangers. Her reason, may have asked the question, "Why 
 remain in the midst of so much peril, and encounter an inevitable 
 death — a death of all others the most terrible- — since it is certain that 
 nothing can rescue your husband from the jaws of the all-devouring 
 grave? and when you can not hope to do more than beguile, with your 
 society, presence, and converse the solitude of the few hours that remain 
 of a life, the flame of which is already flickering, and must in a \ery 
 brief period be extinguished in the darkness and gloom of death?" 
 
 A woman was probably never before placed in circumstances of greater 
 or more peculiar trial; but her duty and affection as a wife triumphed 
 over all her instincts and her reason. And when her husband entreated 
 her to save her life and leave him to die alone, assuring her that she could 
 be of no service to him, since he probably would not survive, under any 
 circumstances, until the next morning, she bent over him, and with 
 
 119
 
 streamincT eyes kissed his pale, emaciated, haggard, and even then death- 
 stricken cheeks, and said: — 
 
 "No! no! dear husband, I will remain with you and here perish, rather 
 than leave you to die alone, with no one to soothe your dying sorrows, 
 and to close your eyes when dead. Entreat me not to leave you. Life, 
 accompanied with the reflection that I had thus left you, would possess 
 for me more than the bitterness of death; and death would be sweet 
 with the thought, in my last moments, that I had assuaged one pang of 
 yours in your passage into eternity. No! no! this once, dear husband, I 
 will disobey you! No! no! no!" she continued, sobbing convulsively. 
 
 The parting scene between the parents and children is represented as 
 being one that will never be forgotten, as long as reason remains, or 
 memory performs its functions. My own emotions will not permit me 
 to attempt a description, which language, indeed, has not the power to 
 delineate. It is sufficient to say that it was affecting beyond measure; 
 and that the last words uttered by Mrs. Donner, in tears and sobs, to 
 Mr. Eddy, were, "O, save! save my children!" 
 
 Mr. Eddy carried Georgiana Donner, who was about six years old; 
 Hiram Miller carried Eliza Donner, about four years old; Mr. Thomp- 
 son carried Frances Ann Donner, about eight years old; William Foster 
 carried Simon Murphy, eight years old; and Clarke carried his booty, 
 and left a child of one of the Donners to perish. 
 
 The first night after leaving the Mountain Camp, the party encamped 
 at the foot of the pass, on the eastern declivity of the mountain. On the 
 next day they crossed the pass, where Mr. Eddy found an aperture in 
 the snow which had been kept open by a spring, where, by letting down 
 a cord, he ascertained the depth of the snow to be sixty-five feet. That 
 night they encamped half way down Yuva river. The next morning, 
 they resumed their journey, and came up with Mr. Starks, with Patrick 
 Brinn and family, and others, who were the eleven persons that re- 
 mained alive of the fourteen whom Mr. Reed had been constrained to 
 
 120
 
 leave. They at the same time met Messrs. Glover, CofFeymier, Moot- 
 rey, and Woodworth, who had halted to prepare dinner. After the meal 
 was taken, these gentlemen set out for the Mule Spring. 
 
 Toward the close of the afternoon, Mr. Woodworth' s party en- 
 camped at the last crossing of Yuva river. At night Messrs. Eddy, 
 Foster, Thompson, and Miller came up, bringing with them the chil- 
 dren with whom they had left the Mountain Camp. John Baptiste and 
 Clarke were also with them. Here they encamped in the snow. 
 
 On the following morning, Mr. Woodworth gave to the party a 
 little food. He was informed that there were persons yet remaining at 
 the Mountain Camp, for whose rescue an effort ought to be made. He 
 replied, that he could not remain any longer, and after giving his blan- 
 kets to Mr. Mootrey to carry, he said he would go forward and prepare 
 horses for proceeding immediately on into the settlements. Messrs. 
 Woodworth, Glover, Mootrey, and Coffeymier then proceeded for- 
 ward to the Mule Spring, where they encamped. 
 
 Messrs. Foster, Eddy, Miller, and Thompson resumed their journey, 
 and at lo o'clock, a. m., arrived at the Mule Sprina. Here they came 
 up with Messrs. Oakley and Stone, who, having left Mr. Starks, had 
 passed Messrs. Foster, Eddy, Miller, and Thompson. 
 
 On the evening of the second day after their arrival at this camp, Mr. 
 Starks came up, with Patrick Brinn, his wife, and children. Mr. Starks 
 carried Jonathan Graves, a boy twelve years of age. 
 
 Mr. Stone had carried the deceased Mrs. Graves' babe. Mr. Oakley 
 carried Mary Donner, a girl thirteen years old, one of whose feet had 
 been severely burnt at the Starved Camp, previous to Mr. Reed leaving 
 at that place the fourteen, as previously mentioned. 
 
 The morning following the day upon which Mr. Starks came up, the 
 whole number of persons thus brought together set out for the settle- 
 ments; and in three days arrived at Fort Sacramento, the residence of 
 Capt. Sutter. 
 
 121
 
 Expedition of Messrs. Starks and others; 
 Mr. Fellun's expedition 
 
 IT WILL BE REMEMBERED that Messrs. Starks, Stone, Oak- 
 ley, Thompson, Miller, Foster, and Eddy, when on their way 
 from the Mountain Camp, with a company of the sufferers, met 
 Messrs. Woodworth, Glover, Mootrey, and Coffeymier, and 
 that Mr. Woodworth was informed that there yet remained sev- 
 eral persons at the Mountain Camp, for whose rescue an eflort ought to 
 be made. 
 
 From the point at which this information had been communicated, 
 Mr. Glover proceeded on to Fort Sacramento, where he saw Mr. Mc- 
 Kinstry, and informed hnn that Mr. Woodworth had declined making 
 any further efiorts to have the emigrants rescued. Mr. McKinstry prom- 
 ised to send a letter to Mr. Woodworth, urging him to send a party 
 out. Mr. Woodworth received this letter March 23d. He then organ- 
 ised a party, consistmg of John Rhodes, John Starks, E. Coffeymier, 
 John Sel, Daniel Tucker, William Foster, and the son of Mrs. Graves; 
 who were dispatched with provisions and horses. 
 
 This party proceeded no further than Bear River valley, or the foot 
 of the mountain, from which pomt they returned, in consequence of 
 the snow upon the mountain ha\'ing become so soft, as to make the 
 traveling impracticable. 
 
 Mr. Fellun set out from the settlements in April, with six others, for 
 the relief of such persons as might be found to survi\'e at the Mountain 
 Camp; and also to collect and, as far as practicable, secure the scattered 
 property of both the living and the dead. 
 
 Upon arriving at the Mountain Camp, he found that all had perished 
 except Kiesburg. A perusal of the following extract from Mr. Fclkin's 
 journal, as published in the California Star upon his return, is well cal- 
 culated to create a painful suspicion, that this man remained at the 
 
 123
 
 Mountain Camp, to appropriate the property and money of the dead, 
 and that he killed Mrs. Donner, Mrs. Murphy, and the child which the 
 man Clark left there to perish. But this is not the only instance of the 
 property of emigrants in distress being appropriated. Almost all which 
 the perils and dangers of my own journey had left to me, in going into 
 Oregon, was taken by a needy adventurer, who had come from the 
 settlements, and had united with another, distinguished for even less 
 principle than himself. 
 
 Mr. Fellun says: — 
 
 "Left Johnson's on the evening of April 13th, and arrived at the lower 
 end of the Bear River valley on the 15th. Hung our saddles upon the 
 trees, and sent the horses back, to be returned again in ten days, to bring 
 us in aaain. Started on foot, with provisions for ten days, and traveled 
 to the head of the valley, and camped for the night; snow from two to 
 three feet deep. Started early in the morning of the 15th, and traveled 
 twenty-three miles; snow ten feet deep. 
 
 "April 17. — Reached the cabins between 12 and 1 o'clock. Expected 
 to find some of the sufferers alive, Mrs. Donner and Kiesburg, in par- 
 ticular. Entered the cabins, and a horrible scene presented itself — human 
 bodies terribly mutilated, legs, arms, and skulls, scattered in every direc- 
 tion. One body, supposed to be that of Mrs. Eddy, lay near the en- 
 trance, the limbs severed off, and a frightful gash in the skull. The flesh 
 was nearly consumed from the bones, and a painful stillness pervaded 
 the place. The supposition was, that all were dead, when a sudden shout 
 revived our hopes, and we flew in the direction of the sound. Three 
 Indians, who had been hitherto concealed, started from the ground and 
 fled at our approach, leaving behind their bows and arrows. We de- 
 layed two hours in searching the cabins, during which we were obliged 
 to witness sights from which we would have fain turned away, and which 
 are too dreadful to put on record. We next started for Donners' camp, 
 eight miles distant over the mountains. After traveling about halfway, 
 
 124
 
 we came upon a track in the snow which excited our suspicion, and we 
 determined to pursue it. It brought us to the camp of Jacob Donner, 
 where it had e\idently left that morning. There we found property of 
 every description, books, cahcoes, tea, coffee, shoes, percussion caps, 
 household and kitchen furniture, scattered in every direction, and mostly 
 in the water. At the mouth of the tent stood a large iron kettle, filled 
 with human flesh, cut up. It was from the body of George Donner. The 
 head had been split open, and the brains extracted therefrom, and, to 
 the appearance, he had not been long dead — not over three or four days, 
 at the most. Near by the kettle stood a chair, and thereupon three legs 
 of a bullock that had been shot down in the early part of the winter, 
 and snowed upon before it could be dressed. The meat was found sound 
 and good, and, with the exception of a small piece out of the shoulder, 
 whollv untouched. We gathered up some property, and camped for the 
 night. 
 
 "April 18. — Commenced gathering the most valuable property, 
 suitable for our packs, the greater portion requiring to be dried. We 
 then made them up, and camped for the night. 
 
 "April 19. — This morning, Foster, Rhodes, and J. Foster, started, 
 with small packs, for the first cabins, intending from thence to follow 
 the trail of the person that had left the morning previous. The other 
 three remained behind to cache and secure the goods necessarily left 
 there. Knowing the Donners had a considerable sum of money, we 
 searched diligently, but were unsuccessful. The party for the cabins 
 were unable to keep the trail of the mvsterious personage, owing to the 
 rapid melting of the snow; they, therefore, went direct to the cabins, 
 and, upon entering, discovered Kiesburg lying down amidst the human 
 bones, and beside him a large pan full of fresh liver and lights. They 
 asked hmi what had become of his companions; whether they were 
 alive; and what had become of Mrs. Donner. He answered them by stat- 
 ing that they were all dead. Mrs. Donner, he said, had, in attempting to 
 
 125
 
 cross from one cabin to another, missed the trail, and slept out one 
 night; that she came to his camp the next night, very much fatigued; he 
 made her a cup of coffee, placed her in bed, and rolled her well in the 
 blankets; but the next morning found her dead. He ate her body, and 
 found her flesh the best he had ever tasted. He further stated, that he 
 obtained from her body at least four pounds of fat. No traces of her 
 person could be found, nor of the body of Mrs. Murphy either. When 
 the last company left the camp, three weeks previous, Mrs. Donner was 
 in perfect health, though unwilling to come and leave her husband there, 
 and offered $500 to any person or persons who would come out and 
 bring them in — saying this in the presence of Kiesburg — and that she 
 had plenty of tea and coffee. We suspected that it was she who had taken 
 the piece from the shoulder of beef in the chair before mentioned. In 
 the cabin with Kiesburg were found two kettles of human blood, in all 
 supposed to be over one gallon. Rhodes asked him where he had got the 
 blood. He answered, "There is blood in dead bodies." They asked him 
 numerous questions, but he appeared embarrassed, and equivocated a 
 great deal; and in reply to their asking him where Mrs. Donner's money 
 was, he evinced confusion, and answered, that he knew nothing about 
 it — that she must have cached it before she died. 'I hav'n't it,' said he, 
 'nor the money, nor the property of any person, living or dead.'' They 
 then examined his bundle, and found silks and jewelry, which had been 
 taken from the camp of the Donners, amounting in value to about $200. 
 On his person they discovered a brace of pistols, recognized to be those 
 of George Donner, and, while taking them from him, discovered some- 
 thing concealed in his waistcoat, which on being opened was found to 
 be $225, in gold. 
 
 "Before leaving the settlements, the wife of Kiesburg told us that 
 we would find but little money about him; the men, therefore, said to 
 him, that they knew he was lying to them, and that he was well aware 
 of the place of concealment of the Donners' money. He declared, be- 
 
 126
 
 fore heaven, he knew nothing concerning it, and that he had not the 
 property of any one in his possession. They told him, that to he to them 
 would effect nothing; that there were others back at the cabins, who, 
 unless informed of the spot where the treasure was hidden, would not 
 hesitate to hang him upon the first tree. Their threats were of no avail; 
 he still affirmed his ignorance and innocence. Rhodes took him aside 
 and talked to him kindly, telling him, that if he would give the infor- 
 mation desired, he should receive from their hands the best of treatment, 
 and be in every way assisted; otherwise, the party back at Donners' camp 
 would, upon its arrival, and his refusal to discover to them the place 
 where he had deposited this money, immediately put him to death. It 
 was all to no purpose, however, and they prepared to return to us, leav- 
 ing him in charge of the packs, and assuring him of their determination 
 to visit him in the mornina; and that he must make up his mind during 
 the night. They then started back and joined us at Donners' camp. 
 
 "April 20. — We all started for Bear River valley, with packs of one 
 hundred pounds each; our provisions being nearly consumed, we were 
 obliged to make haste away. Came within a few hundred yards of the 
 cabm which Kiesburg occupied, and halted to prepare breakfast, after 
 which we proceeded to the cabin. I now asked Kiesburg if he was willing 
 to disclose to me where he had concealed that money. He turned some- 
 what pale, and again protested his ignorance. I said to huii, 'Kiesburg, 
 you know well where Donner's money is, and d — n you, you shall tell 
 me! I am not going to multiply words with you, or say but little about 
 it; bring me that rope!' He then arose from his pot of soup and human 
 flesh and begged me not to harm him; he had not the money nor the 
 goods; the silk clothing and money which were found upon him the 
 previous day, and which he then declared belonged to his wife, he now 
 said were the property of others in California. I then told him I did not 
 wish to hear more from him, unless he at once informed us where he 
 had concealed the money of those orphan children; then producing the 
 
 127
 
 rope, I approached him. He became frightened; but I bent the rope about 
 his neck, and threw him, after a struggle, upon the ground, and as I 
 tightened the cord, and choked him, he cried out that he would confess 
 all upon release. I then permitted him to arise. He still seemed inclined 
 to be obstinate, and made much delay in talking; finally, but with evi- 
 dent reluctance, he led the way back to Donners' camp, about ten miles 
 distant, accompanied by Rhodes and Tucker. While they were absent, 
 we moved all our packs over to the lower end of the lake, and made all 
 ready for a start when they should return. Mr. Foster went down to the 
 cabin of Mrs. Murphy, his mother-in-law, to see if any property re- 
 mained there worth collecting and securing; he found the body of young 
 Murphy, who had been dead about three months, with the breast and 
 skull cut open, and the brains, liver, and lights taken out; and this ac- 
 counted for the contents of the pan which stood beside Kiesburg, when 
 he was found. It appears that he had left at the other camp the dead 
 bullock and horse, and on visiting this camp and finding the body 
 thawed out, took therefrom the brains, liver, and lights. 
 
 "Tucker and Rhodes came back the next morning, bringing $273, 
 that had been cached by Kiesburg, who after disclosing to them the 
 spot, returned to the cabin. The money had been hidden directly under- 
 neath the projecting limb of a large tree, the end of which seemed to 
 point precisely to the treasure buried in the earth. On their return, and 
 passing the cabin, they saw the unfortunate man within, devouring the 
 remaining brains and liver, left from his morning repast. They hurried 
 him away, but before leaving, he gathered together the bones and heaped 
 them all in a box he used for the purpose, blessed them and the cabin, 
 and said, 'I hope God will forgive me what I have done; I couldn't help 
 it! and I hope I may get to heaven yet!' We asked Kiesburg why he did 
 not use the meat of the bullock and horse instead of human flesh. He 
 replied, he had not seen them. We then told him we knew better, and 
 asked why the meat in the chair had not been consumed. He said, 'Oh, 
 
 128
 
 it's coo dry eating! the liver and lights were a great deal better, and the 
 brains made good soup!' We then moved on, and camped on the lake 
 for the night. 
 
 "April 21. — Started for Bear River valley this morning; found the 
 snow from six to eight feet deep; camped on Yuva river for the night. 
 On the 22d, traveled down Yu\a about eighteen miles, and camped at 
 the head of Bear River valley. On the 25th, moved down to the lower 
 end of the valley; met our horses, and came in." 
 
 The last of the survivors of the Mountain Camp had now been 
 brought in. The following list presents the names of the party. Those 
 who perished were: — C. T. Stanton; Mr. Graves; Mrs. Graves; Franklin 
 Graves; Jay Fosdick; John Denton; George Donner; Mrs. Donner, 
 his wife; Jacob Donner; Betsy Donner; Isaac Donner; Lewis Donner; 
 Samuel Donner; Charles Burger; Joseph Rianhart; Augustus Spitzer; 
 Samuel Shoemaker; James Smith; Baylis Williams; Bertha Kiesburg; 
 Lewis S. Kiesburg; Mrs, Murphy; Lemuel Murphy; Lanthron Mur- 
 phy; George Foster; Catharine Pike; William Pike; Eleanor Eddy; 
 Margaret Eddy; James Eddy; Patrick Dolan; Milton Elliott; Lewis and 
 Salvadore, Capt. Sutter's vaqueros. — In all (including two who died 
 before reaching the Mountain Camp) 36. 
 
 The following survived: — William Graves; Mary Graves; Ellen 
 Graves; Viney Graves; Nancy Graves; Jonathan Graves; Elizabeth 
 Graves; Sarah Fosdick; Loithy Donner; Leon Donner; Frances Donner; 
 Georgiana Donner; Eliza Donner; George Donner, Jun.; Mary Donner; 
 John Baptiste; Solomon Hook; Mrs. Wolfinger; Lewis Kiesburg; Mrs. 
 Kiesburg; William Foster; Sarah Foster; Simon Murphy; Mary Mur- 
 phy; Harriet Pike; Miriam Pike; Patrick Brinn; Margaret Brinn; John 
 Brinn; Edward Brinn; Patrick Brinn, Jun.; Simon Brinn; James Brinn; 
 Peter Brinn; Isabella Brinn; Eliza Williams; Noah James; James F. 
 Reed; Mrs. Reed; Virginia Reed; Patty Reed; James Reed; Thomas 
 Reed; William H. Eddy.— In all, 44. 
 
 129
 
 The following Table exhibits the sex of those who were lost, and 
 of those who were saved: — 
 
 Males. Females. Total. 
 
 Number who perished 
 
 " " survived 
 
 Total 
 
 Number who perished 
 
 Had the rate of mortality in the sexes 
 been equal there would have died. . . 
 
 Dif. against males, and in favor of fe- 
 males 
 
 28 
 20 
 
 48 
 28 
 
 21 3/5 
 62/5 
 
 8 
 24 
 
 32 
 
 142/5 
 
 62/5 
 
 36 
 44 
 80 
 
 130
 
 The sensations and mental condition of the sufferers 
 
 I WILL now make some remarks, in addition to those alread\' 
 made, respecting the sensations of the sufferers, and their mental 
 condition, as far as I have been able to obtain information from 
 the survivors, or to infer it from the events narrated. 
 Some of the unfortunate sufferers entirely lost their reason. 
 Of this number was Patrick Dolan, at the Camp of Death. His words 
 were vague and unconnected. He struggled until he got out from under 
 the blankets. He called to Mr. Eddy, saying that he was the only person 
 of their number who could be depended upon. He then pulled off his 
 boots, and, divesting himself of nearly all his clothing, he bade Mr. 
 Eddy follow him, and said that they would be in the settlements in a 
 few hours. He was with great difficulty brought under the blankets, and 
 held there until at length he becarrie as quiet and submissive as a child; 
 when he soon expired, as though he was in a calm and pleasant sleep. 
 Lanthron Murphy was of this number also. 
 
 Mr. Foster was likewise insane; but his was an insanity which, though 
 complete, was of a totally different character. He, in a considerable 
 degree, realized his situation, and in some respects was capable of reason- 
 ing from cause to effect. Nevertheless, his mental condition was one 
 which rendered him irresponsible for his actions. His conduct as ex- 
 hibited in the account of the journey of the sixteen from the Mountain 
 Camp, is not in any degree in keeping with his general character, both 
 before he entered upon this journey, and since his arrival in San Fran- 
 cisco, where he now resides, and is esteemed a reputable and worthy man. 
 Mr. Eddy was probably the only really sane one of that party of 
 sixteen. 
 
 With but few exceptions, all the sufferers, both those who perished 
 and those who survived, manifested the same species of insanity as did 
 Mr. Foster. 
 
 131
 
 Objects delightful to the senses often flitted across the imagination; 
 and a thousand phantasies filled and disturbed the disordered brain. 
 Of this number I may mention the unhappy Denton, who, however, 
 was sometimes perfectly sane; and was undoubtedly so when he finally 
 perished. But the whole number, with very few exceptions, might be 
 individually named as examples. 
 
 Their deluded fancies often represented to them during the day, 
 beautiful farm-houses and extensive fields and gardens in the distance. 
 Toward these they pressed forward with all the energy with which alter- 
 nate hope and despair could inspire them. During the night they often 
 heard men talking, dogs barking, cocks crowing, and bells tinkling. 
 These cruel mockings were probably the effects of fever. Many be- 
 lieved that they were surrounded by familiar faces and old friends; and 
 that they saw objects associated with scenes of other years and places. 
 Some saw persons coming to their relief, and called to them to hasten. 
 Many fancied, although in the midst of winter, that they were traveling 
 through highly cultivated regions in the midst of harvest. There were 
 instances of persons suspecting at times that the circumstances with 
 which they were surrounded were not real; and that they were deceived 
 by the illusions of the most horrible dreams, and they would rub their 
 eyes and put their hands upon the head for the purpose of assuring them- 
 selves, if possible, that all was not the result of a dreadful vision or 
 nightmare. One was doubtful whether he had not in some way, unper- 
 ceived, passed from time into eternity, in which the circumstances of 
 his condition were a part of his new mode of being. 
 
 The following extract from the journal of the intrepid and enter- 
 prising Col. Fremont, will be interesting and appropriate in this con- 
 nection: — 
 
 "We began," he says, "to be uneasy at Derosier's absence, fearing 
 he might have been bewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had 
 not yet recovered his mind, went to swim in the river, as if it were sum- 
 
 132
 
 mer, and the stream placid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foam- 
 ing among rocks. We were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. 
 He came in, and sitting down by the fire, began to tell us where he had 
 been. He imagined he had been gone several days, and thought we were 
 still at the camp where he had left us; and we were pained to see that 
 his mind was deranged. It appeared that he had been lost in the moun- 
 tains, and hunger and fatigue, joined to weakness of body, and fear of 
 perishing in the mountams, had crazed him. The times were severe, 
 when stout men lost their minds from extremity of suffering — when 
 horses died — and when mules and horses, ready to die of starvation, were 
 killed for food." 
 
 Some of the party, though sometimes, during brief intervals, per- 
 fectly sane, when awake, yet suffered from the most painful and terrify- 
 ing dreams, in which they saw combats and heard cries of despair and 
 anguish. Dreams of famine and death, of floundering in fathomless 
 snows, frequently made them afraid to sleep; for when they did, they 
 often started up from their miserable beds in horror and affright. These 
 not only tormented the mind, but the body also was exhausted and 
 fatigued, through the sympathy which exists between the mortal and 
 immortal part of man's nature. 
 
 Some of these unhappy emigrants felt a general sinking of all the 
 energies of the mind, and a total prostration of the body, without, how- 
 ever, experiencing any gnawing of hunger. The unfortunate Denton 
 was probably an example of this. It will be recollected that he was found 
 at one time asleep upon the snow. He was with great difficulty aroused, 
 but was afterward left with a little food; and when found dead, the food 
 left with him was in his pocket. It is probable that, after writing the 
 piece of poetry which I have mentioned in a former part of this volume 
 as having been discovered at his side, he did not experience a sensation of 
 hunger; and a drowsiness overcoming him, he never awoke. 
 
 This absence of the sensation of hunger was generally followed by 
 
 133
 
 an irresistible desire to sleep. If great efforts were not made to arouse 
 them from the torpor into which they were sinking, an unnatural and 
 difficult manner of breathing was usually observed in about half an 
 hour; and this was followed by a rattling of the throat in about three- 
 fourths of an hour. This continued from one to four hours; when death 
 closed the scene; the individual appearing to be in a profound slumber, 
 until life was wholly extinct, and the spirit was released from its suffer- 
 ing body. Sometimes they were permitted thus to die, in order that the 
 miserable survivors might in this manner obtain food, without resorting 
 to a more horrid alternative. There were examples of no efforts being 
 able to awaken persons from this dreadful slumber. On one occasion, a 
 person in this sleep threw his arm out in such a manner that his hand fell 
 into the fire. Mr. Eddy, who was awake, and observed it, hoped that 
 it would awaken the miserable sleeper, and he permitted it to remain 
 there until it was doubled and shriveled. He then threw the hand back 
 upon the body; but the sleeper soon extended it again, and it fell into 
 the fire, where it was consumed to a coal, without the slightest move- 
 ment of a single muscle, or a perceptible change of the features, in- 
 dicative of pain. 
 
 If the effort to arouse the sleeper was successful, as it frequently was, 
 the poor sufferer often spoke of the most delightful visions, in which 
 his imagination had presented to his view, beautiful plantations of 
 luxuriantly growing crops, and tables groaning with a weight of food, 
 prepared in the most inviting manner. 
 
 Such was the condition, both mental, and physical, into which Mr. 
 Eddy felt himself sinking, at the time of his making his first meal of 
 human flesh. He had ceased to experience the sensation of hunger, al- 
 though at other times this had almost maddened him. But he felt a gen- 
 eral prostration of body and mind, and a heaviness and lethargy almost 
 imperceptibly stealing upon him. Those who were with him, told him 
 that he was dying. This, however, he did not believe, but he, neverthe- 
 
 134
 
 less, had witnessed enough to convince him that these were primary 
 symptoms, which, if he did not resist them, would certainly terminate 
 in his death in a few hours. He reasoned clcarlv concernina his condi- 
 tion, and he knew perfectly well that nothing but courage could rescue 
 him from that state of stupor and mental imbecility into which he was 
 falling. 
 
 A few became furious, and died without sinkmg into this slumber. 
 Others died calm and peaceful, taking an affectionate leave of their 
 friends, and expressing a confident hope in the mercy of the blessed 
 Redeemer; and in the fullness of the provisions made by His death for 
 even the most wicked; and in His power and willingness to save them in 
 His kingdom. 
 
 135
 
 EPILOGUE. Edwin Br)'ant's account of the disasters 
 to the emigrating parties of 1846 
 
 HAVING ACCOMPLISHED the journey from the 
 United States to the civihzed districts of Upper Cah- 
 fornia, it is proper that I should give some account of 
 those with whom I started and travelled a portion of 
 . the distance. 
 The great bulk of the emigration of 1846 both to California and 
 Oregon took the old routes of former emigrating parties. The company 
 of Capt. West on Mary's river had a difficulty and a fight with a large 
 party of Digger Indians. In this encounter a Mr. Sallee lost his life 
 from a wound by a poisoned arrow. Mr. Lippincott was wounded in 
 the knee, but he recovered. With this exception all of these, I believe, 
 reached their destination in safety and in good season. 
 
 A party consisting of some sixty or eighty wagons bound for Oregon, 
 among whom were the Messrs. Putnam of Lexington, Ky., took the 
 new route to the Wilhamette [Willamette] valley, explored by Mr. 
 Applegate and his party, whom we met on Mary's river. This company 
 became entangled in the Umpqua mountains, (not very distant from 
 the settlements of Oregon,) and after suffering great hardships, were 
 compelled to abandon all their wagons and baggage. With the aid of 
 parties sent for their relief from the Wilhamette [Willamette] valley, 
 nearly all of them, however, reached their destination, Mr. Newton, 
 whom I have previously mentioned, was murdered by some Indians. 
 They professed to be friendly and loitered about Mr. N.'s camp. He sus- 
 pected them of hostile intentions and ordered them away. They however 
 managed to secure some powder and balls, and availing themselves of 
 a moment when Mr. N., being worn out with watching, had fallen 
 asleep outside of his tent, they shot three balls into him. He sprang into 
 the tent to secure his rifle, but was seized by one of his assailants, who 
 
 137
 
 with an axe nearly severed one of his legs. He died of his wounds the 
 next day. Mrs. N. escaped. The Indians robbed the tent of all its port- 
 able contents. 
 
 The number of wagons which took the new route from Fort Bridger 
 via the south end of the Great Salt Lake, intersecting with the old 
 wagon-trail on Mary's river 250 miles above the Sink, was about eighty. 
 The advance company of these was Mr. Harlan's. The pioneers, and 
 those following their trail, succeeded by energetic exertions in opening a 
 road through the difficult mountain passes near the Salt Lake, and 
 reached the settlements of California in good season. The rear party, 
 known as Messrs. Reed and Donner's company, did not follow the trail 
 of those who had preceded them, but explored for a portion of the dis- 
 tance, another route, and opened a new road through the Desert Basin. 
 In making these explorations and from other causes, they lost a month's 
 time, the consequence of which was, that they did not reach the Pass of 
 the Sierra Nevada until the 31st of October, when they should have been 
 there by the ist of October. 
 
 The snow commenced falling on the Sierra, two or three weeks 
 earlier in 1846 than is usual, and when this party arrived at the foot of 
 the Pass they found it impossible to proceed from its depth. The people 
 of the town of San Francisco, as soon as they received intelligence of the 
 dangerous situation of these emigrants, held a public meeting, and with 
 a liberality that reflects the highest credit upon them, subscribed fifteen 
 hundred dollars for the organization of a party that would penetrate the 
 mountains for their relief. This party started, and soon afterwards other 
 partiesunderthedirectionof the naval commandant' at the Port of San 
 Francisco, were organized for the same object. Capt. J. A. Sutter, a 
 
 Joseph B. Hull of the U. S. S. "Warren," was commandant at San Francisco in 
 1846-1847. Aided by the prominent Spaniard, Vallejo, he secured aid for the Donner 
 party. A total of four relief parties were sent into the mountains, and saved forty-eight 
 out of the original eighty-seven members caught in the snows. See infra, p. 238. 
 
 138
 
 philanthropist in its most expressive and least ostentatious sense, dis- 
 played his characteristic generosity and benevolence on this occasion. 
 At his own expense and hazard, before other exertions were made, he 
 furnished men and mules laden with provisions for the relief of the 
 perishing sufferers. The result ot these exertions in behalf of the un- 
 fortunate emigrants, and the melancholy and in some respects horrible 
 details of their sufferings, will be best understood by a perusal of the 
 following extracts from authentic papers in my possession. They com- 
 pose a chapter of human misery, for which there are but few parallels 
 in tact or fiction. 
 
 Statement of John Sinclair, Esq., Alcalde. 
 District of Sacramento 
 
 Rancho del Paso, February, 1S47. 
 Dear Sir, — 
 
 The following brief sketch of the sufferin2;s of the emigrants who 
 endeavored at different tmies to reach this valley from the mountains, 
 where they had been caught by the snow in October, is drawn up at 
 the request of the sur\'ivors, with whom I have held several conversations 
 on the subject, and from a few short notes handed me bv W. H. Eddy,^ 
 one of the partv\ Such as they are, and hastily thrown together, I place 
 them at your disposal. 
 
 On the first of November, Patrick Brin, [Brccn]^ Patrick Dolan^ — 
 Keysburg, [Louis Keseberg] and W. H. Eddy, left their cabins, and 
 
 ^William H. Eddy came west from Belleville, Illinois, accompanied by his wife 
 Eleanor, and his children, James and Mar\\ He succeeded in bringing aid to the snow- 
 bound travellers, leading what was known as the First Relief that left Sutter's Fort early 
 in February' for the Sierra. 
 
 ^Patrick Breen was an Irishman from Iowa who was travelling with his u'ife and seven 
 children. The entire family survived the hideous winter in the mountains. Their portraits 
 appear in McGlashan, op. cit., p. 45. 
 
 139
 
 attempted to cross the dividing ridge of the mountains; but owing to the 
 softness and depth of the snow, they were obhged to return. On the 
 third they tried it again, taking with them Mrs. Reed' and family, Mr. 
 Stanton,'' and two Indians,' who were in the employ of J. A. Sutter; but 
 after being out one day and night, they returned to their cabins. On 
 the twelfth, Mr. Graves,* and two daughters, Messrs, Fosdick,' Fos- 
 ter,'" Eddy, Stanton, Sheumacher, [Shoemaker]" with two New Mexi- 
 cans, and the two Indians, started on another trail, but met with no bet- 
 ter success. Not discouraged, and impelled by the increasing scarcity of 
 provisions at the cabins, on the twentieth they tried it again, and suc- 
 ceeded in crossing the divide; but found it impossible for them to 
 proceed for the want of a pilot, Mr. Stanton having refused to allow the 
 Indians to accompany them on account of not being able to bring the 
 mules out with them, which Mr. Stanton had taken there with provi- 
 sions from J. A. Sutter's, previous to the falling of the snow. Here again 
 
 ^Patrick Dolan was an Irishman from Keokuck, Iowa, who died in an attempt to 
 bring aid to the stranded party. He left camp on December i6, but did not reach his 
 goal. His bravery and generosity endeared him to all. See McGlashan, op. cit. , pp. 69-70. 
 
 'Margaret Reed of Illinois, wife of James F. Reed, who had been banished from the 
 company in October after killing a man in a quarrel. She had four children, Virginia, 
 Patty, Thomas, and James, Jr. Mrs. Reed with a large party left camp a second time on 
 February 22 to cross the mountains. 
 
 ''Charles Stanton of New York, who reached Sutter's Fort in the first group called 
 the Forlorn Hope, but died while on his way back with the rescuers. See McGlashan, 
 op. cit., pp. 74-76 for his biography. 
 
 'The Indians were known as Luis or Lewis, and Salvador. 
 
 ^Franklin W. Graves of Illinois who, with his wife Elizabeth, and nine children were 
 bound for California. His daughter, Mary, and his sister, Mrs. Sarah Fosdick, made 
 two attempts to cross the mountains on snowshoes. 
 
 'Jay Fosdick, of Illinois, died of starvation and exposure on January 4 in the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 '"William M. Foster of Pennsylvania, accompanied by his wife and son, George, who 
 subsequently escaped from the mountains, and brought back aid as a member of the 
 Fourth Relief. 
 
 "Samuel Shoemaker of Ohio who died early in December in the mountains. 
 
 140
 
 were their warmest hopes bhghted; and they again turned with heavy 
 hearts towards their miserable cabins. Mrs. Murphy,'^ daughter, and 
 two sons were of this party. During the interval between this last at- 
 tempt and the next, there came on a storm, and the snow fell to the 
 depth of eight feet. In the midst of the storm, two young men started to 
 go to another party of emigrants, (twenty-four in number,) distant 
 about eight miles, who it was known at the commencement of the storm 
 had no cabins built, neither had they killed their cattle, as they still had 
 hopes of being able to cross the mountains. As the two young men never 
 returned, it is supposed they perished in the storm; and it is the opinion 
 of those who have arrived here, that the party to whom they were going 
 must have all perished. On the sixteenth of December, expecting that 
 they would be able to reach the settlements in ten days, Messrs. Graves, 
 Fosdick, Dolan, Foster, Eddy, Stanton, L. Murphy, (aged thirteen,) 
 Antonio, a New Mexican; with Mrs. Fosdick, Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Pike, " 
 Mrs. McCutcheon,'* and Miss M. Graves, and the two Indians before 
 mentioned, having prepared themselves with snow-shoes, again started 
 on their perilous undertaking, determined to succeed or perish. 
 
 Those who have ever made an attempt to walk with snow-shoes will 
 be able to realize the difficulty they experienced. On first starting, the 
 snow being so light and loose, even with their snow-shoes, they sank 
 twelve inches at every step; however, they succeeded in travelling about 
 four miles that day. On the seventeenth they crossed the divide, with 
 considerable difficulty and fatigue, making about five miles, the snow on 
 
 '^Lavinia Murphy of Tennessee was a widow with seven children travelhng in the 
 Donner party. With two sons, Lemuel B. and John L. she perished in the mountains. 
 Lienhard, op. cit., passim, frequently refers to this family. 
 
 '^Mrs. Harriet Pike, who escaped alive, was Mrs. Murphy's daughter. She was ac- 
 companied by her husband, William Pike, who died on the way. One of the two chil- 
 dren also perished. 
 
 '^Amanda McCutcheon, wife of William McCutcheon of Tennessee, who was a 
 member of the Second Relief party. 
 
 141
 
 the divide being twelve feet deep. The next day they made six miles, and, 
 on the nineteenth five, it havina snowed all day. On the twentieth the 
 sun rose clear and beautiful, and cheered by its sparkling rays, they 
 pursued their weary way. From the first day, Mr. Stanton, it appears, 
 could not keep up with them but had always reached their camp bv 
 the time thev got their fire built, and preparations made for passing 
 the night. This day they had travelled eight miles, and encamped early; 
 and as the shades of evening gathered round them, many an anxious 
 glance was cast hack through the deepening gloom for Stanton; but 
 he came not. Before morning the weather became stormy, and at day- 
 light they started and went about four miles, when they encamped, and 
 agreed to wait and see if Stanton would come up; but that night his 
 place was again vacant by their cheerless fire, while he, I suppose, had 
 escaped from all further suffering, and lay wrapped in his "winding 
 sheet of snow" — 
 
 "His weary wand'rings and his travels o'er." 
 
 On the twenty-second the storm still continued, and they remained 
 in camp until the twenty-third, when they again started, although the 
 storm still continued, and travelled eight miles. They encamped in a 
 deep valley. Here the appearance of the country was so different from 
 what it had been represented to them, (probably by Mr. Stanton,) that 
 they came to the conclusion that they were lost; and the two Indians 
 on whom they had placed all their confidence, were bewildered. In this 
 melancholy situation they consulted together, and concluded they would 
 go on, trusting in Providence, rather than return to their miserable 
 cabins. They were, also, at this time, out of provisions, and partly 
 agreed, with the exception of Mr. Foster, that in case of necessity, they 
 would cast lots of who should die to preserve the remainder. During the 
 whole of the night it rained and snowed very heavily, and by morning 
 the snow had so increased that they could not travel; while, to add to 
 
 142
 
 their sufferings, their fire had been put out by the rain, and all their 
 endeavors to hght another proved abortive. 
 
 How heart-rending must have been their situation at this time, as 
 they gazed upon each other, shivering and shrinking from the pitiless 
 storm! Oh! how thev must have thought of those happy, happ\- homes, 
 which but a few short months before they had left with buoyant hopes 
 and fond anticipations! Where, oh where were the green and flowery 
 plains which they had heard of, dreampt, and anticipated beholding, in 
 the month of January, in California? Alas! many of that little party 
 were destmed never to behold them. Already was death in the midst 
 of them. Antonio died about nine, a. m.; and at eleven o'clock, p. m., 
 Mrs. Graves. The feelings of the rest may be imagined, on seeing two of 
 their small party removed by death in a few hours from them, while 
 the thought must have struck home to every bosom, that they too 
 would shortly follow. 
 
 In this critical situation, the presence of mind of Mr. Eddy suggested 
 a plan for keeping themselves warm, which is common amongst the 
 trappers of the Rocky Mountains, when in the snow without fire. It is 
 simply to spread a blanket on the snow, when the party, (if small,) with 
 the exception of one, sit down upon it in a circle, closely as possible, their 
 feet piled over one another in the centre, room being left for the person 
 who has to complete the arrangement. As many blankets as necessary 
 are then spread over the heads of the party, the ends being kept down 
 by billets of wood or snow. After every thing is completed, the person 
 outside takes his place in the circle. As the snow falls it closes up the 
 pores of the blankets, while the breath from the party underneath soon 
 causes a comfortable warmth. It was with a great deal of difficulty 
 that Mr. Eddy succeeded in getting them to adopt this simple plan, 
 which undoubtedly was the means of saving their lives at this time. In 
 this situation they remained thirty-six hours. 
 
 143
 
 On the twenty-fifth, about four o'clock, p. m., Patrick Dolan died; 
 he had been for some hours deHrious, and escaped from under their shel- 
 ter, when he stripped off his coat, hat, and boots, and exposed himself to 
 the storm. Mr. Eddy tried to force him back, but his strength was un- 
 equal to the task. He, however, afterwards returned of his own accord, 
 and laid down outside of their shelter, when they succeeded in dragging 
 him inside. On the twenty-sixth, L. Murphy died, he likewise being 
 delirious; and was only kept under their shelter by the united strength 
 of the party. 
 
 In the afternoon of this day they succeeded in getting fire into a dry 
 pine-tree. Having been four entire days without food, and since the 
 month of October on short allowance, there were now but two alter- 
 natives left them — either to die, or preserve life by eating the bodies of 
 the dead: slowly and reluctantly they adopted the latter alternative. On 
 the twenty-seventh they took the flesh from the bodies of the dead; and 
 on that, and the two following days they remained in camp drying the 
 meat, and preparing to pursue their journey. On the thirtieth they left 
 this melancholy spot, where so many of their friends and relatives had 
 perished; and with heavy hearts and dark forebodings of the future, 
 pursued their pathless course through the new-fallen snow, and made 
 about five miles: next day about six miles. January first was one of the 
 most fatiguing day's journeys which they had. They were compelled to 
 climb a mountain, which they represent as nearly perpendicular; to ac- 
 complish which, they were obliged to take advantage of every cleft of 
 rock, and pull themselves up by shrubs growing in the crevices. On the 
 second they found they could go without snow-shoes, which, however, 
 gave them but little relief; their feet being so badly frozen by this time, 
 that every step was marked with blood, and the toes of one of the 
 Indians had dropped oif at the first joint. They were also again out of 
 provisions. On the third they travelled seven miles, and at night fared 
 on the strings of their snow-shoes. 
 
 144
 
 Some time during the night of the fourth, the Indians left them; no 
 doubt fearful to remain, lest they might be sacrificed for food. Poor fel- 
 lows, they stood the pangs of hunger two days longer than their white 
 fellow-travellers before they tasted of the human flesh. On the morning 
 of the fifth, the party took the trail of the Indians, following it by the 
 blood which marked their steps. After having travelled about a mile, 
 they discovered fresh footprints of deer in the snow, when Mr. Eddy, 
 who had a rifle, started with Miss Graves, in advance, hoping to fall in 
 with them, which they fortunately did, and succeeded in killing one, 
 after travelling about eight miles, at the foot of a mountain. That night 
 Mr. Foster and wife, Mrs. Pike, and Mrs. McCutcheon, encamped on 
 the top of the mountain, not being able to get to where Eddy was with 
 the deer. Mr. Fosdick having given out, remained with his wife about a 
 mile back from them. On the next day they got what remained of the 
 deer to the top of the mountain, and two of them went back for Fos- 
 dick; but he was at that time "where the weary are at rest," having died 
 about eleven o'clock, p. m.; and his wife had lain by his side that lone- 
 some night, and prayed that death might release her from suff"ering, but 
 in vain. 
 
 The flesh was taken from the bones of poor Fosdick, and brought into 
 camp, but there was one there who tasted not of it. On the seventh and 
 eighth they only made about two and a half miles, going down one 
 mountain and over another. On the ninth, after travelling four miles, 
 they fell in with the two Indians, who had then got out of the snow. 
 Salvador was dead. Lewis had crawled to a small stream of water, and 
 lain down to drink. They raised him up, and offered him some food; 
 he tried to eat, but could not; and only lived about an hour. Being nearly 
 out of provisions and knowing not how far they might be from the 
 settlements, they took their flesh likewise. 
 
 On the tenth and eleventh they made about seventeen miles, when 
 falling in with an Indian trail, they concluded they would follow it, 
 
 145
 
 which they accordingly did; and on the twelfth, fell in with some of 
 the Indians, who treated them kindly, gave them some acorns, and put 
 them on to another trail the next day, which they took, and after 
 travelling four miles in a heavy rain-storm, they came to more Indians, 
 with whom they stopped the remainder of that day and the next. The 
 two next days they made about seventeen miles. The seventeenth, after 
 walking two or three miles, with an Indian for a pilot, Mr. Foster and 
 the women gave out, their feet being swollen to such a degree that they 
 could go no further. 
 
 Mr. Eddy, who it appears stood the fatigues of the journey better 
 than any of them, here left them; and assisted by two Indians, that 
 evening reached the settlement on Bear Creek [Johnson's Rancho.] 
 The inhabitants, on being informed of the situation of the party behind, 
 immediately started with provisions on foot, and reached them that 
 night about twelve o'clock. On the morning of the eighteenth, others 
 started with horses, and brought them to the settlement, where they 
 were treated with every mark of kindness by the inhabitants. '^ 
 
 I remain, very respectfully, 
 Your obd't servant, 
 John Sinclair 
 
 "of thirty-two only seven of the first group reached the fort. They were W. H. Eddy, 
 William Foster, Mrs. S. H. C. Foster, Mrs. H. F. Pike, Mrs. William McCutcheon, 
 Mrs. Sarah Fosdick, and Mary Graves. Through the efforts of John Sinclair and John 
 Sutter men and supplies were collected to go to the relief of those who remained behind 
 in the mountains. See McGlashan, op. cit., p. III. 
 
 146
 
 Extract of a letter from Mr. Geo. McKinstry "* 
 
 Captain E. Kern informed vou of the men sent up from this place 
 to the assistance of the sufferers, when we were first informed of their 
 situation. I will again give you a list of their names, '^ as I think they 
 ought to be recorded in letters of gold. Aquila Glover, R. S. Montrey, 
 Daniel Rhodes, John Rhodes, Daniel Tucker, Joseph Sel, and Edward 
 Copymier. Mr. Glover, who was put in charge of this little, brave band 
 of men, returns to me his journal, from which I extract as follows: — 
 "On the 13th of February, 1847, our party arrived at the Bear River 
 Valley. 14th, remained in camp, preparing packs and provisions. 15th, 
 left Bear Ri\cr Valley, and travelled fifteen miles, and encamped on 
 Yuba river. i6th, travelled three miles, and stopped to make snow-shoes. 
 17th, travelled five miles, and camped on Yuba river — snow fifteen feet 
 deep, dry and soft. i8th, travelled eight miles, and encamped on the 
 head of Yuba river. 19th, travelled nine miles, crossed the summit of the 
 California mountains, and reached part of the suffering company about 
 sundown, in camp near Truckee Lake." Mr. Glover informs me that he 
 found them in a most deplorable condition, entirely beyond description. 
 Ten of their number had already died from starvation; and he thinks 
 several others will die in camp, as they are too low to resuscitate. The 
 whole party had been living on bullock-hides four weeks. On the morn- 
 ing of the 20th, the party went down to the camp of Geo. Donner, eight 
 miles below the first camp, and found them with but one hide left. They 
 had come to the conclusion, that when that was consumed to dig up the 
 bodies of those who had died from starvation, and use them as food. 
 
 '^These excerpts, published by George McKinstr)', are from the Diarj' of Patrick 
 Breen. 
 
 ''Authorities disagree as to the names of the First ReHef. See Bancroft, Calijoriua, 
 V. 538; McGlashan, op. cit., p. II2; and Ehza P. Donner Houghton, The Expedition of 
 the Donner Party (Los Angeles, 1920), p. 97. 
 
 147
 
 When the party arrived at the camp, they were obhged to guard the 
 httle stock of provisions that they had carried over the mountains on 
 their backs on foot, for the reHef of the poor beings, as they were in 
 such a starving condition that they would have immediately used up 
 the small store. They even stole the buckskin strings from their snow- 
 shoes, and ate them. This little, brave band of men immediately left 
 with twenty-one persons, principally women and children, for the 
 settlements. They left all the food they could spare with those (twenty- 
 nine in number) that they were obliged to leave behind, and promised 
 them that they would immediately return to their assistance. They were 
 successful in bringing all safe over the mountains. Four of the children 
 they were obliged to carry on their backs, the balance walked. On their 
 arrival at the Bear River Valley they met a small party with provisions, 
 that Captain Kern, of this fort, had sent for their relief. The same day 
 they met Mr. Reed with fifteen men, on foot, packed with provisions, 
 who ere this have reached the sufferers. Lieutenant Woodworth'* was 
 aoina ahead with a full force, and will himself visit them in their moun- 
 tain camp, and see that every person is brought out. Mr. Greenwood '' 
 was three days behind Mr. Reed, with the horses. Captain Kern will 
 remain in camp, with the Indian soldiers, to guard the provisions and 
 horses, and will send the sufferers down to this post as soon as possible, 
 where they will be received by Captain J. A. Sutter with all the hos- 
 pitality for which he is so celebrated. And in the mean time Captain 
 Sutter will keep up a communication with Captain Kern's camp, so as 
 to be in readiness to assist him on all occasions. Mr. Glover^" informed 
 me that the wagons belongina to the emigrants are buried some fifteen 
 
 '^Selim E. Woodworth of New York was a lieutenant in the U. S. N. who had come 
 overland to California in 1846. He was later a successful business man of San Francisco. 
 
 "Britain Greenwood who was a member of the Second Relief. See Houghton, op. 
 cit., pp. 94-95. 
 
 ^"Aquilla Glover, a member of the First Relief. 
 
 148
 
 feet under the snow. He thinks that it will be some three weeks from 
 this date before Lieutenant Woodworth c'an arrive at this fort. Mr. 
 Glover left the party at Bear River Valley on express, as I had written 
 to him, by the second party, of the death of one member of his family, 
 and the severe illness of his wife. The balance of the party will reach 
 here in some four or five days. The weather is ver^' fine, and we have 
 no doubt but that Lieutenant Woodworth will be able to bring all left 
 on the mountains. 
 
 Copy of a journal kept b)' a suffering emigrant on the 
 California mountains from Oct. 31, 1846 to Mar. 1, 1847 
 
 TRUCKEE Lake, Nov. 20, 1846. — Came to this place on the 31st 
 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 Truckee Lake. Stanton came up one day after 
 we arrived here; we again took our teams and wagons and made another 
 imsuccessful attempt to cross in company with Stanton; we returned to 
 the shanty, it continuing 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 here, though now 
 clear and pleasant, freezing at night, the snow nearly gone from the 
 valleys, — 21. Fine morning, wind n. w.; twenty-two of our company 
 about starting to cross the mountains this day, including Stanton and 
 his Indians. — 22. Froze hard last night; fine and clear to-day; no account 
 from those on the mountains. — 23. Same weather, wind w.; the ex- 
 pedition across the mountains returned after an unsuccessful attempt, 
 — 25. Cloudy, looks like the eve of a snow-storm; our mountaineers 
 are to make another trial to-morrow, if fair; — froze hard last night, — 
 
 149
 
 26. Began to snow last evening, now rains or sleets; the party does not 
 start to-day. — 29. Still snowing, snow about three feet deep; wind w.; 
 killed my last oxen to-day; gave another yoke to Foster; wood hard to 
 be got. — 30. Snowing fast, looks as likely to continue as when it com- 
 menced; no living thing without wings can get about. 
 
 Dec. I. — Still snowing, wind w.; snow about six or six 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. — 3. Ceased snowing; cloudy all day; warm enough to thaw. — 
 5. Beautiful sunshine, thawing a little; looks delightful after the long 
 storm; now seven or eight feet deep. — 6. The morning fine and clear; 
 Stanton and Graves manufacturing snow-shoes for another scrabble; 
 no account of mules. — 8. Fine weather, froze hard last night; wind s. w., 
 hard work to find wood sufficient to keep us warm or cook our beef. — 
 9. Commenced snowing about 11 o'clock, wind n. w.; took in Spitzer^' 
 yesterday so weak, that he cannot rise without help, caused by starvation. 
 Some have a scant supply of beef; Stanton trying to get some for himself 
 and Indians; not likely to get much. — 10. Snowed fast all night with 
 heavy squalls of wind; continues to snow, now about seven feet in depth. 
 — 13. Snows faster than any previous day; Stanton and Graves, with 
 several others, making preparations to cross the mountains on snow- 
 shoes. Snow eight feet deep on a level. ^ — 16. Fair and pleasant, froze 
 hard last night; the company started on snow-shoes to cross the moun- 
 tains, winds. E. — 17. Pleasant. Wm. Murphy returned from the moun- 
 tain party last evening; Balis Williams^^ died night before last; Milton " 
 and Noah^* started for Conner's eight days ago; not returned yet; think 
 
 ^'August Spitzer, a German, who died December 21. 
 
 ^^Balis (or Baylis) Williams was a traveller from Illinois. His half-sister, Eliza, sur- 
 vived the exposure. 
 
 ^^Milton Elliot, of Illinois, who perished in the snow. 
 
 150
 
 they are lost in the snow. — 19. Snowed last night, thawing to-day, wind 
 n. w.; a httle singular for a thaw. — 20. Clear and pleasant; Mrs. Reed 
 here; no account from Milton yet; Charles Berger [Burger]" set out for 
 Dormer's; turned back, unable to proceed; tough times, but not dis- 
 couraged; our hopes are in God, Amen. — 21. Milton got back last night 
 from Donner's camp; sad news, Jacob Donner, Samuel Shoemaker, 
 Rhinehart [Rinehart]^* and Smith" are dead, the rest of them in a low 
 situation; snowed all night with a strong s. w. wind.^ — 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! — 24. Rained all night and still continues; poor 
 prospect for any kind of comfort, spiritual or temporal. — 25. Began to 
 snow yesterday, snowed all night, and snows yet rapidly; extremely 
 difficult to find wood; offered our prayers to God this Christmas morn- 
 ing; the prospect is appalling, but we trust in Him. — 27. Cleared off 
 yesterday, continues clear, snow nine feet deep; wood growing scarce; 
 a tree when felled sinks into the snow and hard to be got at.— 30. Fine 
 clear morning, froze hard last night; Charles Berger [Burger] died last 
 evening about ten o'clock. — 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. Morning fair but cloudy, wind e. by 
 s.; looks like another snow-storm ^snow-storms are dreadful to us; 
 the snow at present very deep. 
 
 ^^Noah James, a teamster who had been driving one of the Donner wagons. He lived 
 to reach Cahfornia. 
 
 ^'Charles Burger, a German traveller, who was one of the first to volunteer to cross the 
 Sierra to secure aid. 
 
 ^""Joseph Rinehart, a German immigrant, who was an accomplice in the murder of a 
 fellow traveler, Wolfinger. See McGlashan, op. cit., p. 54. 
 
 ^'J^rnes Smith of Illinois. His end is described in Houghton, op. cit., p. 69. 
 
 151
 
 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 very scant; dug up a hide from 
 under the snow yesterday- — have not commenced on it yet. — 3, Fair dur- 
 ing the day, freezing at night; Mrs. Reed talks of crossing the moun- 
 tains with her children. — 4. Fine morning, looks like spring; Mrs. Reed 
 and Virginia, Milton Elliot, 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 — 6. Eliza came back from 
 the mountains yesterday evening, not able to proceed, the others kept 
 ahead. — 8. Very cold this morning; Mrs. Reed and others came back; 
 could not find the way on the other side of the mountains; they have 
 nothing but hides to live on. — 10. Began to snow last night, still con- 
 tinues; wind, w. n. w. — 13. Snowing fast — snow higher than the shanty; 
 it must be 13 feet deep; cannot get wood this morning; it is a dreadful 
 sight for us to look upon. — -14. Cleared off yesterday ; the sun shining 
 brilliantly renovates our spirits, praises be to the God of heaven. — 15. 
 Clear day again, wind n. w.; Mrs. Murphy blind; Lantron [Lan- 
 drum] ^' not able to get wood, has but one axe between him and Keys- 
 burg; [Keseberg] it looks like another storm — expecting some account 
 from Sutter's soon. — 17. Eliza Williams came here this morning; 
 Lantron [Landrum] crazy last night; provisions scarce, hides our main 
 subsistence. May the Almighty send us help. — 21. Fine morning; John 
 Battise [Juan Bautista] ^^ and Mr. Denton^' came this morning with 
 Eliza; she will not eat hides. Mrs. — sent her back to live or die on them 
 — 22. Began to snow after sunrise; likely to continue; wind w. — 23. Blew 
 
 ^^Eliza Williams was the half-sister of Balis Williams, and came from Springfield, 
 Illinois with the Reed-Donner party. 
 
 ^'Landrum Murphy, the son of Mrs. Lavinia Murphy. 
 -'"Bautista (or Baptiste) was a Spaniard from New Mexico. 
 ^'John Denton came from Springfield, Illinois. 
 
 152
 
 hard and snowed all night, the most severe storm we have experienced 
 this winter; wind w. — 26. Cleared up yesterday; to-day fine and pleasant, 
 wind s. ; in hopes we are done with snow-storms; those who went to Sut- 
 ter' s not yet returned; provisions getting scant; people growing weak 
 living on small allowance of hides. — 27. Commenced snowing yester- 
 day; still continues to-day; Lewis" (Sutter's Indian) died three days 
 ago; wood getting scarce; don't have fire enough to cook our hides. — 
 30. Fair and pleasant, wind w., thawing in the sun; John and Edward 
 Breen went to Graves' this morning; the — seized on Mrs. — goods, until 
 they should be paid; they also took the hides which she and her family 
 subsisted upon. She regained two pieces only, the balance they have 
 taken. You mav judge from this what our fare is in camp; there is 
 nothing to be had by hunting, vet perhaps there soon will be. — 31. The 
 sun does not shine out brilliant this morning; froze hard last night, 
 wind n. w. Lantron [Landrum] Murphy died last night about one 
 o'clock. Mrs. Reed went to Graves' this morning to look after goods. 
 
 February 5. — Snowed hard until two o'clock last night; many uneasy 
 for fear we shall all perish with hunger; we have but a 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. — 6. It snowed faster last night and to-day than it 
 has done this winter before, still continues without intermission, wind 
 s. w.; Murphy's folks and Keysburg [Keseberg] say they cannot eat 
 hides; I wish we had enough of them. Mrs. Eddy is very weak. — 7. 
 Ceased to snow at last, to-day is quite pleasant. McCutcheon's child 
 died on the second of this month. — 8. Fine clear morning, Spitzer died 
 last night, we shall bury him in the snow. Mrs. Eddy died on the 
 night of the seventh. — 9. Mr. Pike's child all but dead. Milton is at 
 Murphy's not able to get out of bed; Kcvsburg [Keseberg] never gets 
 
 ^^According to McGlashan, op. cit., p. loz, tlie Lewis who died was Keseberg's son, 
 not Lewis, the Indian. 
 
 153
 
 up, says he is not able. Mrs. Eddy and child were buried to-day, wind 
 s. e. — lo. Beautiful morning, thawing in the sun. Milton Elliot died 
 last night at Murphy's shanty. Mrs. Reed went there this morning to 
 see after his effects. J. Denton trying 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. — 12. Warm, thawing morning. — 14. 
 Fine morning, but cold; buried Milton in the snow. John Denton not 
 well. — 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. — 16. Commenced to rain last 
 evening and turned to snow during the night and continued until morn- 
 ing; weather changeable, sunshine then light showers of hail and wind at 
 times. We all feel very unwell; the snow is not getting much less at 
 present. — 19. Froze hard last night, seven men arrived from California 
 yesterday evening with provisions, but left the greater part on the way; 
 it is clear and warm for this region. Some of the men have gone to 
 Dormer's camp; they will start back on Monday. — 22. The Cali- 
 fornians started this morning, twenty-four in number, some in a very 
 weak state. Mrs. Keysburg [Keseberg] started with them and left 
 Keysburg [Keseberg] here unable to go; buried Pike's child this morn- 
 ing in the snow, it died two days ago. — 23. Froze hard last night, to-day 
 pleasant and thawy; has the appearance of spring, all but the deep snow; 
 winds, s. e.; shot a dog today and dressed his flesh. — 25. Today 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. — 26. Hungry times in camp; plenty of hides, but the folks 
 will not eat them; we eat them with tolerable good appetite, thanks be 
 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 Dormer' s told the California folks four 
 
 154
 
 (days ago that they would commence on the dead people if they did 
 not succeed that day or next in finding their cattle, then ten or twelve 
 feet under the snow, and did not know the spot or near it; they have 
 done it ere this. — 28. One solitary Indian passed by yesterday, came 
 from the Lake, had a heavy pack on his back, gave me five or six roots re- 
 sembling onions in shape, tasted some like a sweet potato full of tough 
 little fibres. 
 
 March I. Ten men arrived this morning from Bear Valley with 
 provisions; we are to start in two or three days and shall cache our goods 
 here. They say the snow will remain until June. 
 
 The abo\'e mentioned ten men started for the valley with seventeen of 
 the sufferers; they travelled fifteen miles and a severe snow-storm came 
 on; they left fourteen of the emigrants, the writer of the above journal 
 and his family, and succeeded in getting in but three children, Lieut. 
 Woodworth immediately went to their assistance, but before he reached 
 them they had eaten three of their number, who had died from hunger 
 and fatigue; the remainder Lieut. Woodworth's party brought in. On 
 the 29th of April, 1847, the last member of that party was brought to 
 Capt. Sutter's Fort: it is utterly impossible to give any description of the 
 sufferings of the company. Your readers can form some idea of them 
 by perusing the above diary. 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 George McKinstry, Jr. 
 
 155
 
 Fort Sacramento, April 29, 1847. 
 
 Names of the late Emigration from the United States, who were 
 
 prevented by the snow from crossing the California mountains, October 
 
 31st, 1846. 
 
 Arrived in California 
 
 William Graves, Sarah Fosdick, Mary Graves, Ellen Graves, Viney 
 [Lavinia] Graves, Nancy Graves, Jonathan Graves, Elizabeth Graves, 
 Loithy [Elitha] Donner, Lean [Leanna] Donner, Francis [Frances] 
 Donner, Georgiana [Georgia] Donner, Eliza Donner, John Battise 
 [Juan Bautista], Solomon Hook, George Donner, Jr., Mary Donner, 
 Mrs. Wolfinger, Lewis Keysburg, [Louis Keseberg] Mrs. Keysburg, 
 [Keseberg], William Foster, Sarah Foster, Simon Murphy, Mary 
 Murphy, Harriet Pike, Miomin [Naomi] Pike, Wm. Eddy, Patrick 
 Breen, Margaret Breen, John Breen, Edward Breen, Patrick Breen, Jr., 
 Simon Breen, James Breen, Peter Breen, Isabella Breen, Eliza Williams, 
 James F. Reed, Mrs. Reed, Virginia Reed, Martha Reed, James Reed, 
 Thomas Reed, Noah James. 
 
 Perished in the mountains 
 
 C. T. Stanton, Mr. Graves, Mrs. Graves, M. J. Fosdick, Franklin 
 Graves, John Denton, Geo. Donner, Sen., Mrs. Donner, Charles Berger, 
 [Burger], Joseph Rhinehart, [Rinehart], Jacob Donner, Betsey Donner, 
 Wm. Johnson, Isaac Donner, Lewis Donner, Samuel Donner, Samuel 
 Shoemaker, James Smith, Balis Williams, Bertha Keysburg, [Keseberg], 
 (child), Lewis Keysburg, [Keseberg], Mrs. Murphy, Lemuel Murphy, 
 George Foster, Catharine Pike, Ellen Eddy, Margaret Eddy, James 
 Eddy, Patrick Dolan, Augustus Spitzer, Milton Elliot, Lantron [Lan- 
 drum] Murphy, Mr. Pike, Antonio, (a New Mexican,) Lewis, (Sutter's 
 Indian,) Salvadore, do. 
 
 At the time the occurrences above related took place, I was marching 
 with the California battalion, under the command of Col. Fremont, 
 
 156
 
 to Ciudad de los Angelos [Angeles], to assist in suppressing a rebellion 
 which had its origin in that quarter. After my return from that expedi- 
 tion, I saw and conversed with several of the survivors in the above hst. 
 The oral statements made to me by them in regard to their sufferings, far 
 exceed in horror the descriptions given in the extracts. Mr. Fallon," 
 who conducted the last relief party over the mountains, made a state- 
 ment, in regard to what he saw upon his arrival at the "cabins," so re- 
 volting that I hesitate before alluding to it. The parties which had pre- 
 ceded him had brought into the settlement all the living sufferers ex- 
 cept three. These were Mr. and Mrs. George Donner, and [Louis] 
 Keysburg [Keseberg]. At the time the others left, Mr. George Donner 
 was unable to travel from debility, and Mrs. D. refused to leave him. 
 Why Keysburg [Keseberg] remained, there is no satisfactory explana- 
 tion. Mrs. Donner offered a reward of five hundred dollars to any party 
 that would return and rescue them. I knew the Donner s well. Their 
 means in money and merchandise, which they had brought with them, 
 were abundant. Mr. Donner was a man of about sixty, and was at the 
 time of his leaving the United States a highly respectable citizen of Illi- 
 nois — a farmer of independent circumstances. Mrs. D. was considerably 
 younger than her husband, and an active woman of refined education. 
 Mr. Fallon and his party reached the "cabins" some time in April. 
 The snow in the valley, on the eastern side of the Pass, had melted so as 
 in spots to expose the ground. He found the main cabin empty, but 
 evidences that it had not been long deserted. He and his party com- 
 menced a search, and soon discovered fresh tracks in the snow leading 
 from it. These they followed some miles, and by pursuing them they 
 
 ^^Captain William O. Fallon, an Irish trapper of New Mexico, who went into the 
 mountains with the Fourth Relief. His accounts of Keseberg and conditions at the camp 
 aroused such keen feeling against this survivor that he was never cleared of the charges 
 of having killed Mrs. Donner to save his own life. These tales were probably exaggerated. 
 See McGlashan, op. cit., pp. 216-223. 
 
 157
 
 returned again to the cabin. Here they found Keysburg [Keseberg]. 
 He was rechning upon the floor of the cabin, smoking his pipe. Near 
 his head a fire was blazing, upon which was a camp kettle filled with 
 human flesh. His feet were resting upon skulls and dislocated limbs 
 denuded of their flesh. A bucket partly filled with blood was standing 
 near, and pieces of human flesh, fresh and bloody, were strewn around. 
 The appearance of Keysburg [Keseberg] was haggard and revolting. His 
 beard was of great length; his finger-nails had grown out until they 
 resembled the claws of beasts. He was ragged and filthy, and the expres- 
 sion of his countenance ferocious. He stated that Donners were both 
 dead. That Mrs. Dormer was the last to die, and expired some two days 
 previously. That she had left her husband's camp, some eight miles dis- 
 tant, and came to this cabin. She attempted to return in the evening to 
 the camp, but becoming bewildered she came back to the cabin, and 
 died in the course of the night. He was accused of having murdered her, 
 for her flesh and the money the Donners were known to possess, but 
 denied it. When questioned in regard to the money of the Donners, he 
 denied all knowledge respecting it. He was informed that if he did not 
 disclose where he had secreted the money, he would immediately be 
 hung to a tree. Still persisting in his denial, a rope, after much resistance 
 from him, was placed around his neck, and Mr. Fallon commenced 
 drawing him up to the limb of a tree, when he stated that if they would 
 desist from the summary execution, he would disclose all he knew about 
 the money. Being released, he produced $517 in gold. He was then noti- 
 fied that he must accompany the party to the settlements. To this he was 
 disinclined, and did not consent until the order was so peremptory that 
 he was compelled to obey it. The body of George Donner was found 
 dead in his tent. He had been carefully laid out by his wife, and a sheet 
 was wrapped around the corpse. This sad office was probably the last 
 act she performed before visiting the cabin of Keysburg [Keseberg]. 
 This is briefly a statement of particulars as detailed to me by Mr. Fallon, 
 
 158
 
 who accompanied Gen. Kearny on his return to the United States in 
 the capacity of guide. 
 
 When the return party of Gen. Kearny (which I accompanied) 
 reached the scene of these horrible and tragical occurrences, on the 2 2d 
 of June, 1847, a halt was ordered, for the purpose of collecting and in- 
 terring the remains. Near the principal cabins, I saw two bodies, entire 
 with the exception that the abdomens had been cut open and the en- 
 trails extracted. Their flesh had been either wasted by famine or evapo- 
 rated by the exposure to the dry atmosphere, and they presented the ap- 
 pearance of mummies. Strewn around the cabins were dislocated and 
 broken bones — skulls, (in some instances sawed asunder with care for 
 the purpose of extracting the brains,) — human skeletons, m short, in 
 every variety of mutilation. A more revolting and appalling spectacle I 
 never witnessed. The remains were, by an order of Gen. Kearny, col- 
 lected and buried under the superintendence of Major Swords. They 
 were interred in a pit which had been dug in the centre of one of the 
 cabins for a cache. These melancholy duties to the dead being performed, 
 the cabins, by order of Major Swords,^* were fired, and with everything 
 surrounding them connected with this horrid melancholy tragedy, were 
 consumed. The body 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. 
 
 I subjoin the following description of the sufferings of these un- 
 fortunate emigrants, and the horrid and revolting extremities to which 
 some of them were reduced to sustain life, from the "California Star" 
 of April loth, 1847: — 
 
 "A more shocking scene cannot be imagined, than that witnessed 
 by the party of men who went to the relief of the unfortunate emigrants 
 in the California mountains. The bones of those who had died and 
 
 "'■•Major Thomas Swords of the United States Army who had accompanied Kearny 
 from New Mexico and was now returning to the east. 
 
 139
 
 been devoured by the miserable ones chat still survived, were lying 
 around their tents and cabins. Bodies of men, women, and children, 
 with half the flesh torn from them, lay on every side. A woman sat by 
 the side of the body of her husband, who had just died, cutting out his 
 tongue; the heart she had already taken out, broiled, and ate! The daugh- 
 ter was seen eating the flesh of the father — the mother that of her chil- 
 dren — children that of father and mother. The emaciated, wild, and 
 ghastly appearance of the survivors added to the horror of the scene. 
 Language cannot describe the awful change that a few weeks of dire 
 suflFering had wrought in the minds of these wretched and pitiable 
 beings. Those who but one month before would have shuddered and 
 sickened at the thought of eating human flesh, or of killing their com- 
 panions and relatives to preserve their own lives, now looked upon the 
 opportunity these acts afforded them of escaping the most dreadful of 
 deaths, as a providential interference in their behalf. Calculations were 
 coldly made, as they sat around their gloomy camp-fires, for the next 
 and succeeding meals. Various expedients were devised to prevent the 
 dreadful crime of murder, but they finally resolved to kill those who 
 had the least claims to longer existence. Just at this moment, however, 
 as if by Divine interposition, some of them died, which afforded the rest 
 temporary relief. Some sunk into the arms of death cursing God for 
 the miserable fate, while the last whisperings of others were prayers and 
 songs of praise to the Almighty. 
 
 "After the first few deaths, but the one all-absorbing thought of in- 
 dividual self-preservation prevailed. The fountains of natural affection 
 were dried up. The cords that once vibrated with connubial, parental, 
 and filial affection, were rent asunder, and each one seemed resolved, 
 without regard to the fate of others, to escape from the impending 
 calamity. Even the wild, hostile mountain Indians, who once visited 
 their camps, pitied them, and instead of pursuing the natural impulse of 
 their hostile feelings to the whites, and destroying them, as they could 
 
 160
 
 easily have done, divided their own scanty supply of food with them. 
 "So changed had the emigrants become, that when the party sent 
 arrived with food, some of them cast it aside, and seemed to prefer 
 the putrid human flesh that still remained. The day before the party 
 arrived, one of the emigrants took a child of about four years of age in 
 bed with him, and devoured the whole before morning; and the next 
 day ate another about the same age before noon." 
 
 161
 
 I500 
 
 COPIES OF THIS BOOK HAVE BEEN PRINTED AT THE CILLICK PRESS 
 
 BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY VICTOR R. ANDERSON 
 
 DESIGNED BY BEN KENNEDY 
 
 On page ii, line 9, for Philip read Stephen
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOISURBANA 
 9178T39C C001 
 
 THE CALIFORNIA TRAGEDY OAKLAND 
 
 3 0112 025344683