County Histories
A Memorial and Biographical History of Northern California - Chicago, Lewis Publ. Co., 1891
GENERAL MARIANO GUADALUPE VALLEJO.
A history of Northern California with General M. G. Vallejo ignored would be like the play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out. We visited him in 1888, and were saddened by the evidences apparent on every hand of decayed gentility. That he was the friend of the Americans is not a question of doubt; that the Americans profited by his prodigality and are now indifferent to his needs is lamentably true. But his name will reach farther down the annals of history than it is in the power of gold to purchase name and fame.
Mariano G. Vallejo was born in Monterey, July 7, 1808. His father, Ignacio Vicente Ferrer Vallejo, was a native of Spain, who came in his youth to the State of Guadalajara, Mexico. In 1774, when a young man, being of an adventurous nature, he secretly joined an expedition under Captain Rivera for the exploration of Upper California. He was probably with Captain Rivera's party on the 4th of December, when the large wooden cross was erected on the peninsula of San Francisco, which his son, General Vallejo, says he saw standing in 1829. At all events, he was an eye-witness of the founding of the mission of San Francisco, which event occurred October 4, 1776.
On his arrival in Monterey, Señor Ignacio Vallejo saw for the first time his future wife. It was the day of her birth. He then asked permission of the parents of the infant to wed their daughter when she should become of age. Subsequently, this proposition, made half in jest, was renewed, the señorita then being a blooming young girl, and Señor Vallejo a bachelor of forty. The marriage proved a happy one, and Mariano G. Vallejo was the eighth of thirteen children, the fruit of the union.
Young Vallejo availed himself of every opportunity to improve his mind by reading and study during his minority. He got possession of a library when quite young, which was of great service. From this source he probably acquired a fund of information, which made him the peer of the learned and distinguished persons from all parts of the world, with whom he was destined in after life to be associated.
At the age of sixteen years he was a cadet in the army, and private secretary of Governor Argüello.
In 1829 he was placed in charge of the Presidio of San Francisco, which position he held until 1834, organizing in the interval the first city or town government of San Francisco.
Governor Figueroa, the most popular of all the Mexican Governors, had control of affairs in 1834. Having learned that a large number of colonists, some four hundred odd, were on their way to California from Mexico, he determined to locate them in Sonoma, partly with the view of shutting out the Russians, and partly because it was one of the most inviting spots to colonize over which he had ever cast his experienced eyes. He selected Lieutenant Vallejo as the most suitable of his officers to command the frontier and execute his plans. Together they visited the country, taking in their tour of observation the stronghold of the Russian squatters at Ross. Returning to the Santa Rosa Valley the Governor selected a site on Mark West Creek for the future colony, giving it the name of "Santa Ana y Ferias," uniting these names probably because he could not tell which of the rival political chiefs would be on top when he next heard from Mexico. He left a camp of soldiers there who were under the command of General Vallejo. The colonists were under the direction of Señor Hijas, who was a quarrelsome, ambitious and avaricious man. Governor Figueroa had received orders to turn over the control of affairs to Hijas. On his return from Sonoma he met a courier with orders, countermanding the former instruction, and continuing the direction of affairs solely in his own hands.
The colonists arrived in March, 1835, and were temporarily quartered in Sonoma. Hijas and his coadjutors among the colonists were much disaffected, and threatened rebellion. Figueroa ordered their arrest. This order was executed by General Vallejo with much skill and judgment, without bloodshed or any personal collision. Hijas and his cosmopolitan company were taken to San Francisco, and were soon after sent back to Mexico.
General Vallejo remained in charge of the frontier. He removed his headquarters from Santa Ana y Ferias, on Mark West, to Sonoma, when, by order of Figueroa, he, in the month of June, 1835, established the town of Sonoma.
General Figueroa died soon after these events. His successor, Governor Carrillo, was deposed by Alvarado. The new governor appointed General Vallejo to the position of Commandante-General of the frontier.
In this position General Vallejo did all in his power to promote the settlement of the frontier. Expeditions were sent out against the Indians, agricultural industries were extended, and the raising of cattle, sheep and horses was in every way encouraged.
Between 1840 and 1845 a large number of immigrants came to northern California. They were well received by the General, though the home government was continually "nagging" him because he did not send the foreigners out of the country, at the same time giving him neither men nor means to carry out their order.
In the early part of the year 1846, affairs in California were rapidly approaching a crisis. In April, a junta was called to meet at Monterey to consider the condition of affairs. Revere gives a summary of some of the speeches made. That of General Vallejo was as follows:
"I cannot, gentlemen, coincide with the military and civil functionaries who have advocated the cession of our country to France or England. It is most true that to rely any longer on Mexico to govern and defend us would be idle and absurd. To this extent I fully agree with my colleagues. It is also true that we possess a noble country, every way calculated, from position and resources, to become great and powerful. For that very reason I would not have her a mere dependency upon a foreign monarchy, naturally alien, or at least indifferent to our interests and to our welfare. It is not to be denied that feeble nations have in former times thrown themselves upon the protection of their powerful neighbors. The Britons invoked the aid of the warlike Saxons, and fell an easy prey to their protectors, who seized their lands and treated them like slaves. Long before that time, feeble and distracted provinces had appealed for aid to the all-conquering arms of imperial Rome, and they were at the same time protected and subjugated their grasping ally. Even could we tolerate the by idea of dependence, ought we to go to distant Europe for a master ? What possible sympathy could exist between us and a nation separated from us by two vast oceans? But waiving this insuperable objection, how could we endure to come under the dominion of a monarchy ? For, although others speak lightly of a form of government, as a freeman, I cannot do so. We are republicans—badly governed and badly situated .as we are—still we are all, in sentiment, republicans. So far as we are governed at all, we at least profess to be self-governed. Who, then, that possesses true patriotism will consent to subject himself and his children to the caprices of a foreign king and his official minions? But it is asked, if we do not throw ourselves upon the protection of France and England, what shall we do? I do not come here to support the existing order of things, but I come prepared to propose instant and effective action to extricate our country from her present forlorn condition. My opinion is made up that we must persevere in throwing off the galling yoke of Mexico, and proclaim our independence of her forever. We have endured her official cormorants and her villainous soldiery until we can endure no longer. All will probably agree with me that we ought at once to rid ourselves of what may remain of Mexican domination. But some profess to doubt our ability to maintain our position. To my mind there comes no doubt. Look at Texas, and see how long she withstood the power of united Mexico. The resources of Texas were not to be compared with ours, and she was much nearer to her enemy than we are. Our position is so remote, either by land or sea, that we are in no danger from Mexican invasion. Why, then, should we hesitate still to assert our independence ? We have indeed taken the first step by electing our own Governor, but another remains to be taken. I will mention it plainly and distinctly—it is annexation to the United States. In contemplating this consummation of our destiny, I feel nothing but pleasure, and I ask you to share it. Discard old prejudices, disregard old customs, and prepare for the glorious change which awaits our country. Why should we shrink from incorporating ourselves with the happiest and freest nation in the world, destined soon to be the most wealthy and powerful? Why should we go abroad for protection when this great nation is our adjoining neighbor? When we join our fortunes, to hers, we shall not become subjects, but fellow-citizens, possessing all the rights of the people of the United States, and choosing our own federal and local rulers. We shall have a stable government and just laws. California will grow strong and flourish, and her people will be prosperous, happy and free. Look not, therefore, with jealousy upon the hardy pioneers who scale our mountains and cultivate our unoccupied plains; but rather welcome them as brothers, who come to share with us a common destiny."
Lieutenant Revere was in Monterey when the junta met; its proceedings were secret, but he says it was notorious that two parties existed in the country, and that General Vallejo was the leader of the American party, while Castro was at the head of the European party. He says he had his report of the meeting from documentary evidence, as well as sketches of the principal speeches. He also says that so soon as General Vallejo retired from the junta he addressed a letter to Governor Pio Pico embodying the views he had expressed in his speech and refusing ever again to assist in any project having for its end the establishment of a protectorate over California by any other power than the United States.
At last the long-threatened storm broke upon the town of Sonoma, and its commandante and little garrison were captured by the Americans. General Vallejo was kept as a prisoner for about two months, and released by order of Commodore Stockton.
General Vallejo, speaking of the condition of affairs in Northern California previous to the taking of Sonoma, said:
"Years before I had urgently represented to the Government of Mexico the necessity of stationing a sufficient force on the frontier, else Sonoma would be lost; which would be equivalent to leaving the rest of the country an easy prey to the invader. What think you, my friends, were the instructions sent me in reply to my repeated demands for means to fortify the country? These instructions were that I should at once force the immigrants to recross the Sierra Nevada and depart from the territory of the Republic. To say nothing of the inhumanity of these orders, their execution was physically impossible; first, because I had no military force; and second, because the immigrants came in the autumn, when snow covered the Sierra so quickly as to render return impracticable. Under the circumstances not only I, but Commandante-General Castro, resolved to provide the immigrants with letters of security, that they might remain temporarily in the country. We always made a show of authority, but were well convinced all the time that we had no power to resist the invasion which was coming in upon us. With the frankness of a soldier I can assure you that the American immigrants never had cause to complain of the treatment they received at the hands of either authorities or citizens."
General Vallejo, on his release, at once made his great influence as a friend of the United States felt throughout the country. He took active interest in public affairs, always on the side of order and good government. He was elected a member of the Constitutional Convention which met in Monterey, and was a Senator from the Sonoma District in the first Legislature of California. And from that period down to the present he has been an enterprising, useful and honored citizen of Sonoma. In priority of settlement, he is the first of the 35,000 inhabitants now living in Sonoma county.
On the 6th of March, 1832, he married Señorita Benicia Francesca Carillo, who still survives with her distinguished husband.
In person, General Vallejo, even at his advanced age, is a strikingly handsome man. He is tall and erect in carriage, with the military air of one disciplined to arms in his early youth. He is a brilliant conversationalist, an eloquent speaker, even in English, which he acquired late in life. To these accomplishments may be added the grace of gesture and manner which he inherits with his blood from an ancestry of Spanish cavaliers.
In the first Legislature of this State, M. G. Vallejo told the following story: "At that period (late in the last century) few families had emigrated to this country, and any one of the female sex was an oasis in the desert. My father was one of the many who emigrated in bachelorship, and while sojourning in San Luis Obispo he unexpectedly met with a lady who was in travail. As there was no one except her husband to assist her, he acted as her holder (tenedor). The lady was safely delivered of a girl, whereupon the holder solicited the hand of the child, and a formal agreement was made between the parties that if at mature years the girl should willingly consent to the union the ceremony should be duly performed. The marriage took place in the young lady's fourteenth year, and the offspring of that marriage has now the honor to present this short biographical sketch !"
THE GREAT SCOURGE OF 1832-'33
Colonel J. J. Warner, now of Los Angeles, a member of the Ewing trapping expedition, which passed north through these valleys in 1832, and back again in 1833, says:
"In the fall of 1832, there were a number of Indian villages on King's River, between its mouth and the mountains; also on the San Joaquin River, from the base of the mountains down to and some distance below the great slough. On the Merced River, from the mountains to its junction with the San Joaquin, there were no Indian villages; but from about this point on the San Joaquin, as well as on its principal tributaries, the Indian villages were numerous, many of them containing some fifty to one hundred dwellings, built with poles and thatched with rushes. With some few exceptions, the Indians were peaceably disposed. On the Tuolumne, Stanislaus and Calaveras rivers there were no Indian villages above the mouths, as also at or near their junction with the San Joaquin. The most hostile were on the Calaveras River. The banks of the Sacramento River, in its whole course through the valley, was studded with Indian villages, the houses of which, in the spring, during the day-time, were red with the salmon the aborigines were curing.
"At this time there were not, on the San Joaquin or Sacramento river, or any of their tributaries, nor within the valleys of the two rivers, any inhabitants but Indians. On no part of the continent over which I had then or have since traveled was so numerous an Indian population, subsisting on the natural products of the soil and waters, as in the valleys of the San Joaquin and Sacramento. There was no cultivation of the soil by them; game, fish, nuts of the forest and seeds of the field constituted their entire food. They were experts in catching fish in many ways, and in snaring game in divers modes.
"On our return, late in the summer of 1833, we found the valleys depopulated. From the head of the Sacramento to the great bend and slough of the San Joaquin we did not see more than six or eight live Indians, while large numbers of their bodies and skulls were to be seen under almost every shade-tree near water, where the uninhabited and deserted villages had been converted into graveyards; and on the San Joaquin River, in the immediate neighborhood of the larger class of villages, which the preceding year were the abodes of large numbers of these Indians, we found not only many graves, but the vestiges of a funeral pyre. At the mouth of King's River we encountered the first and only village of the stricken race that we had seen after entering the great valley; this village contained a large number of Indians temporarily stopping at that place.
"We were encamped near the village one night only, and during that time the death angel, passing over the camping-ground of the plague-stricken fugitives, waved his wand, summoning from a little remnant of a once numerous people a score of victims to muster in the land of the Manitou; and the cries of the dying, mingling with the wails of the bereaved, made the night hideous in that veritable valley of death."
PROMINENT EARLY VISITORS.
Ewing Young, who had trapped with parties on the upper part of the Del Norte, the eastern part of the Grand and the Colorado rivers, pursuing the route formerly traversed by Capt. Jedediah S. Smith, in 1829–'30, entered the San Joaquin Valley and hunted on Tulare Lake and the adjacent streams. During the last part of 1832, or early in 1833, Young, having again entered the San Joaquin valley and trapped on the streams, finally arrived at the Sacramento River about ten miles below the mouth of the American. He followed up the Sacramento to the Feather River, and from there crossed over to the coast. The coast line was traveled till they reached the mouth of the Umpqua, where they crossed the mountains to the inland. Entering the upper portion of the Sacramento Valley, they proceeded southerly till they reached the American River. Then they followed down the San Joaquin Valley and passed out through the Tejon Pass, in the winter of 1833–'34. Besides these parties, there were several trappers, or "lone traders," in this region during the same period.
The attention of the officers of the wealthy and powerful Hudson Bay Company was first specially called to the extent and importance of the fur trade in California by Captain Smith, in 1827 or '8. The first expedition sent out by them was that under the command of McLeod. A short time after the departure of this company a second one was sent out under the leadership of Mr. Ogden, which followed up the Columbia and Lewis rivers, thence southerly over western Utah, Nevada, and into the San Joaquin Valley. On their return they trapped on the streams in Sacramento Valley, and went out at the northern limit in 1830. Thereafter the Hudson Bay Company continued to send trappers into all this region, for a time employing about ninety or one hundred men in this State.
During the months of January and February, 1844, John C. Fremont, then brevet captain of topographical engineers, on his return from his first exploring expedition to Oregon, passed down the west side of the Sierras, and crossed the snow-covered summit to Helvetia (Sacramento), suffering many privations and hardships. To reach this point they followed down the south fork of the American River. Fremont has published a journal of his trip, describing the experiences of himself and of his men with the Indians and with the usual vicissitudes of western travel, and also of the beauty of the hill and valley scenery and the primeval streams of pure water.
The next winter another party, of hardy pioneers, worked their laborious way through the drifting snow of the mountains and entered the beautiful valley, one of them remaining in his snow-bound camp at Donner Lake until returning spring made his rescue possible. The party consisted of twenty-three men, viz.: John Flomboy; Captain Stevens, recently a resident of Kern County, California; Joseph E. Foster; Dr. John Townsend; Allen Montgomery; Moses Schallenberger, now a resident of San Jose, California; C. Greenwood and his two sons, John and Brit; James Miller, of San Rafael, California; Mr. Calvin; William Martin; Patrick Martin; Dennis Martin; Martin Murphy and his five sons; Mr. Hitchcock and son, and others.
William Sublette came overland in 1845 with a party of fifteen men, probably by way of the famous "cut-off" named after him. He went East with Clyman and Hastings.
James Alexander Forbes, a native of Scotland, lived some years in South America, and came thence to San Francisco about 1830. In 1832 he was acting as a kind of clerk or majordomo for a Mexican at Santa Clara. A year or two afterward he was naturalized. In July, 1834, he married Ana Maria, daughter of Juan C. Galindo, being then twenty-seven years old. In 1836 he was agent for the Hudson Bay Company; elector in 1838; sindico in 1839; and in 1842 he was appointed British vice-consul at Monterey, which office he filled for a few years, but without moving to Monterey, as there was little to do. In 1844 he was the grantee of the Potrero de Santa Clara; in 1845–'46 he was at San Francisco in charge of the Hudson Bay Company's property, after Rae's death, having apparently used his influence against Sutter and Micheltorena, being involved in a controversy with Leidesdorif, and obtaining for himself and wife some beach lots in that place. He disclaimed taking any part in procuring a British protectorate over California, and in the troubles of 1846–'47 he took but slight part. Governor Mason declined to permit him as British vice-consul to import goods free of duties. Mr. Forbes died in Oakland, in 1881, at the age of seventy-seven, retaining to the last much bitterness of feeling against many American peculiarities. His children have been Carlos H., residing at Los Angeles, in 1885, with ten children: Martha (deceased), James Alexander, Jr., Michael, Frederick, James Alonzo, Luis Felipe (deceased), Maria Clara, Juan Telesforo, Margaret, Francis H. and Alfred O.
THE ILL-FATED DONNER PARTY.
Three miles from Truckee, and resting in the green lap of the Sierras, lies one of the loveliest sheets of water on the Pacific coast. Tall mountain peaks are reflected in the clear water, revealing a picture of extreme loveliness and quiet peace. Yet this peaceful scene was the amphitheater of the most tragic event in the annals of early California. "The Donner Party" was organized in Sangamon County, Illinois, by George and Jacob Donner and James F. Reed, in the spring of 1846. In April, 1846, the party set out from Springfield, Illinois, and by the first week in May had reached Independence, Missouri, where the party was increased until the train numbered about two or three hundred wagons, the Donner family numbering sixteen; the Reed family, seven; the Graves family, twelve; the Murphy family, thirteen: these were the principal families of the Donner party proper. At Independence provisions were laid in for the trip, and the line of journey taken up. In the occasional glimpses we have of the party, features of but little interest present themselves, beyond the ordinary experiences of pioneer life. A letter from Mrs. George Donner, written near the junction of the North and South Platte, dated June 16, 1846, reports a favorable journey of 450 miles from Independence, Missouri, and with no forebodings of the terrible disasters so soon to burst upon them. At Fort Laramie a portion of the party celebrated the Fourth of July. Thereafter the train passed unmolested, upon its journey. George Donner was elected captain of the train at the Little Sandy River, on the 20th of July, 1846, from which act it took the name of the "Donner Party."
At Fort Bridger, then a mere trading post, the fatal choice was made of the route that led to such fearful disasters and tragic death. A new route, via Salt Lake, known as Hastings' Cut-off, was recommended to the party as shortening the distance by 300 miles. After due deliberation, the Donner party of eighty-seven souls (three having died) were induced to separate from the larger portion of the train (which afterward arrived in California safely), and commenced their journey by way of Hastings' Cutoff. They reached Weber, near the bend of the cañon, in safety. From this point in their journey, to Salt Lake, almost insurmountable difficulties were encountered, and instead of reaching Salt Lake in one week, as anticipated, over thirty days of perilous journey were consumed in making the trip—most precious time in view of the dangers imminent in the rapidly approaching storms of winter. The story of their trials and sufferings, in their journey to the fatal camp at Donner Lake, is terrible; nature, and stern necessity seemed arrayed against them. On the 19th of October, near the present site of Wadsworth, Nevada, the destitute company were happily reprovisioned by C. T. Stanton; furnished with food and mules, together with two Indian vaqueros, by Captain Sutter without recompensation.
At the present site of Reno it was decided to rest. Three or four days' time was lost. This was the fatal act. The storm-clouds were already brewing upon the mountains, only a few miles distant. The ascent was ominous. Thick and thicker grew the clouds, outstripping in threatening battalions the now eager feet of the alarmed emigrants, until, at Prosser Creek, three miles below Truckee, October 28, 1846, a month earlier than usual, the storm set in, and they found themselves in six inches of newly-fallen snow. On the summit it was already from two to five feet deep. The party, in much confusion, finally reached Donner Lake, in disordered fragments. Frequent and desperate attempts were made to cross the mountain tops, but at last, baffled and despairing, they returned to camp at the lake. The storm now descended in all its pitiless fury upon the ill-fated emigrants. Its dreadful import was well understood, as laden with omens of suffering and death. With slight interruptions the storm continued for several days. The animals were literally buried alive and frozen in the drifts. Meat was hastily prepared from their frozen
carcasses, and cabins rudely built. One, the Schallenberger cabin, erected November, 1844, was already standing, about a quarter of a mile below the lake. This the Breen family appropriated. The Murphys erected one 300 yards from the lake, marked by a large stone twelve feet high. The Graves family built theirs near Donner Creek, three-quarters of a mile further down the stream, the three forming the apexes of a triangle; the Breen and Murphy cabins were distant from each other about 150 yards. The Donner brothers, with their families, hastily constructed a brush shed in Alder Creek valley, six or seven miles from the lake. Their provisions were speedily consumed, and starvation, with all its grim attendant horrors, stared the poor emigrants in the face. Day by day, with aching hearts and paralyzed energies, they awaited, amid the beating storms of the Sierras, the dreadful revelations of the morrow, " hoping against hope " for some welcome sign. On the 16th of December, 1846, a party of seventeen were enrolled to attempt the hazardous journey across the mountains, to press into the valley beyond for relief. Two returned and the remaining fifteen pressed on, including Mary Graves and her sister; Mrs. Sarah Fosdick, and several other women, the heroic C. T. Stanton and the noble F. W. Graves (who left his wife and seven children at the lakes to wait in vain for his return) being the leaders. This was the "Forlorn Hope Party," over whose dreadful sufferings and disasters we must throw a veil. A detailed account of this party is given from the pen of C. F. McGlashan, and lately published in book form from the press of Crowley & McGlashan, proprietors of the Truckee Republican, to which we take pleasure in referring the reader. Death in its most awful form reduced the suffering company to seven—two men and five women—when suddenly tracks were discovered imprinted on the snow. "Can any one imagine," says Mary Graves in her recital, " the joy these footsteps gave us? We ran as fast as our strength would carry us." Turning a sharp point they suddenly came upon an Indian rancheria. The acorn-bread offered them by the kind and awestricken savages was eagerly devoured. But on they pressed with their Indian guides, only to repeat their dreadful sufferings, until at last, one evening about the last of January, Mr. Eddy, with his Indian guide, preceding the party fifteen miles, reached Johnson's ranch on Bear River, the first settlement on the western slope of the Sierras, when relief was sent back as soon as possible, and the remaining six survivors were brought in the next day. It had been thirty-two days since they left Donner Lake. No tongue can tell, no pen portray, the awful sufferings, the terrible and appalling straits, as well as the noble deeds of heroism that characterized this march of death. The eternal mountains, whose granite face bore witness to their sufferings, are fit monuments to make the last resting place of Charles T. Stanton, that cultured, heroic soul, who groped his way through the blinding snows of the Sierras to immortality. The divine encomium: "He gave His life as a ransom for many," is his epitaph, foreshadawed in his own noble words, "I will bring aid to these famishing people or lay down my life."
Nothing could be done, in the meantime, for the relief of the sufferers at Donner Lake, without securing help from Fort Sutter, which was speedily accomplished by John Rhodes. In a week, six men, fully provisioned, with Captain Reasin P. Tucker at their head, reached Johnson's ranch, and in ten or twelve days' time, with provisions, mules, etc., the first relief party started for the scene at Donner Lake. It was a fearful undertaking, but on the morning of the 19th of February, 1847, the above party began the descent of the gorge leading to Donner Lake.
We have purposely thrown a veil over the dreadful sufferings of the stricken band left in their wretched hovels at Donner Lake. Reduced to the verge of starvation, many died (including numerous children, seven of whom were nursing babes) who, in this dreadful state of necessity, were summarily disposed of. Raw‑
hides, moccasins, strings, etc., were eaten. But relief was now close at hand for the poor, stricken sufferers. On the evening of the 19th of February, 1847, the stillness of death that had settled upon the scene was broken by prolonged shouts. In an instant the painfully sensitive ears of the despairing watchers caught the welcome sound. Captain Tucker, with his relief party, had at last arrived upon the scene. Every face was bathed in tears, and the strongest men of the relief party melted at the appalling sight, sat down and wept with the rest.
But time was precious, as storms were imminent. The return party was quickly gathered. Twenty-three members started, among them several women and children. Of this number two were compelled to return and three perished on the journey. Many hardships and privations were experienced, and their provisions were soon entirely exhausted. Death once more stared them in the face, and despair settled upon them. But assistance was near at hand. James F. Reed, who had preceded the Donner party by some months, suddenly appeared with the second relief party, on the 25th. The joy of the meeting was indescribable, especially between the family and the long absent father. Re-provisioned, the party pressed on and gained their destination after severe suffering, with eighteen members, only three having perished. Reed continued his journey to the cabins at Donner Lake. There the scene was simply indescribable; starvation and disease were fast claiming their victims. March 1, Reed and his party arrived at the camp. Proceeding directly to his cabin, he was espied by his little daughter (who, with her sister, was carried back by the previous party) and immediately recognized with a cry of joy. Provisions were carefully dealt out to the famishing people and immediate steps were taken for their return. Seventeen comprised this party. Half starved and completely exhausted they were compelled to camp in the midst of the furious storm, in which Mr. Reed barely escaped with his life. This was "Starved Camp," and from this point Mr. Reed, with his two little children and another person, struggled ahead to obtain hasty relief if possible.
On the second day after leaving Starved Camp Mr. Reed and the three companies were overtaken by Cady and Stone, and on the night of the third day reached Woodworth's camp at Bear Valley, in safety. The horrors of Starved Camp beggar all description,—indeed require none. The third relief party, composed of John Stark, Howard Oakley and Charles Stone, were nearing the rescue, while W. Foster and W. H. Eddy (rescued by a former party) were bent on the same mission. These, with Hiram Miller, set out from Woodworth's camp on the following morning after Reed's arrival. The eleven were duly reached, but were in a starving condition, and nine of the eleven were unable to walk. By the noble resolution and herculean efforts of Mr. Stark, a part of the number were borne and urged onward to their destination, while the other portion were compelled to remain and await another relief party. When the third relief party, under Foster and Eddy, arrived at Donner Lake, the sole survivors of Alder Creek were George Donner, the captain of the company and his heroic and faithful wife, whose devotion to her dying husband caused her own death during the last and fearful days of waiting for the fourth relief. George Donner knew he was dying, and urged his wife to save her life and go with her little ones with the third relief party, but she refused. Nothing was more heart-rending than her sad parting with her beloved little ones, who wound their childish arms lovingly around her neck and besought her with mingled tears and kisses to join them. But duty prevailed over affection and she retraced the weary distance to die with him whom she had promised to love and honor to the end. Such scenes of anguish are seldom witnessed on this sorrowing earth, and such acts of triumphant devotion are among her most golden deeds. The snowy cerements of Donner Lake enshrouded in its stilly whiteness no purer life, no nobler heart than Mrs. George Donner's.
The terrible recitals that closed this awful tragedy we willingly omit.
The third relief party rescued four of the last five survivors; the fourth and last relief party rescued the last survivor, Lewis Keseberg, on the 7th of April, 1847. Ninety names are given as members of the Donner party. Of these, forty-two perished, six did not live to reach the mountains, and forty-eight survived, some of whom are still living.
Thus ends this narrative of horrors, without a parallel in the annals of American history of appalling disasters, fearful sufferings, heroic fortitudes, self-denial and heroism.
Transcribed by Kathy Sedler.