pointedly described in a letter written by C. T. Stanton to his brother,
Sidney Stanton, now of Cazenovia, New York. The incident alluded to is
the unfriendliness and want of harmony so liable to exist between
different companies, and between members of the same company. From one
of Mr. Stanton’s letters the following extract is made:
”At noon we passed Boggs’ company on the Sweetwater; a mile further up
the river, Dunlavy’s; a mile further, West’s; and about two miles beyond
that, was Dunbar’s. We encamped about half way between the two latter.
Thus, within five miles were encamped five companies. At Indian Creek,
twenty miles from Independence, these five companies all constituted
one, but owing to dissensions and quarreling they became broken into
fragments. Now, by accident, we all again once more meet and grasp the
cordial hand; old enmities are forgot, and nothing but good feeling
prevails. The next morning we got rather a late start, owing
to a difference of opinion arising in our company as to whether we
should lie by or go ahead. Those wishing to lie by were principally
young men who wished to have a day’s hunting among the buffaloes, and
there were also a few families out of meat who wished to lay in a supply
before they left the buffalo country. A further reason was urged that
the cattle were nearly fagged out by hard travel, and that they would
not stand the journey unless we stopped and gave them rest. On the other
side it was contended that if we stopped here the other companies would
all get ahead, the grass would all he eaten off by their thousand head
of cattle, and that consequently, when we came along, our cattle would
starve. The go-ahead party finally ruled and we rolled out.”
As will presently be seen, the dissension existing in the company, and
the petty differences of opinion and interest, were the fundamental
causes of the calamities which befell the Donner Party.
When the company was near Fort Bridger, Edward Breen’s leg was broken
by
a fall from a horse. His mother refused to permit amputation, or rather
left the question to Edward’s decision, and of course, boy-like, he
refused to have the operation performed. Contrary to expectation, the
bone knitted, and in a month he walked without a crutch.
23
At Fort Bridger, which was at this time a mere camp or trading post, the
party heard much commendation bestowed upon a new route via Salt Lake.
This route passed along the southern shore of the Lake, and rejoined the
old Fort Hall emigrant road on the Humboldt. It was said to shorten the
distance three hundred miles. The new route was known as the Hastings
Cut-off, and was named after the famous Lansford W. Hastings, who was
even then piloting a small company over the cut-off. The large trains
delayed for three or four days at Fort Bridger, debating as to the best
course to pursue. It is claimed that but for the earnest advice and
solicitation of Bridger and Vasquez, who had charge of the fort, the
entire party would have continued by the accustomed route. These men had
a direct interest in the Hastings Cut-off, as they furnished the
emigrants with supplies, and had employed Hastings to pilot the first
company over the road to Salt Lake.
After mature deliberation, the party divided, the greater portion going
by Fort Hall and reaching California in safety. With the large train,
which journeyed the old road, this narrative is no longer interested.
Eighty-seven persons, however, took the Hastings Cut-off. Their names
are included in the ninety mentioned in the preceding chapter, it being
remembered that Mrs. Sarah Keyes had died, and that Lewis and Salvador
were not yet members of the party. For several days the party traveled
without much difficulty. They reached Weber River near the head of the
well-known Weber Canyon. At the first crossing of this river, on the
third of August, they found a letter from Hastings stuck in the split of
a stick, informing them that the road down the Weber Canyon was in a
terrible condition, and that it was doubtful if the sixty-six wagons
which L. W. Hastings was then piloting through the canyon would ever
succeed in reaching the plain. In the letter, Hastings advised all
emigrants to avoid the canyon road, and pursue over the mountains a
course which he faintly outlined. In order to obtain further
information, and, if possible, to induce Hastings to return and act as
guide, Messrs. Reed, Stanton, and Pike were sent forward to overtake the
advance company. This was accomplished after a fatiguing trip, which so
exhausted the horses of Stanton and Pike that these gentlemen were
unable to return to the Donner Party. Hastings was overtaken at a point
near the southern end of Great Salt Lake, and came back with Reed to the
foot of the bluffs overlooking the present city of Salt Lake. Here he
declared that he must return to the company he was piloting, and despite
the urgent entreaties of Reed, decided that it was his duty to start
back the next morning. He finally consented, however, to ascend to the
summit of the Wahsatch Mountains, from which he endeavored, as best he
could, to point out the direction in which the wagons must travel from
the head of Weber Canyon. Reed proceeded alone on the route indicated,
taking notes of the country and occasionally blazing trees to assist him
in retracing the course.
Wm. G. Murphy (now of Marysville, Cal.) says that the wagons remained
in
24
the meadows at the head of Weber Canyon until Reed’s return. They then
learned that the train which preceded them had been compelled to travel
very slowly down the Weber River, filling in many irregular places with
brush and dirt; that at last they had reached a place where vast
perpendicular pillars of rock approached so closely on either side that
the river had barely space to flow between, and just here the water
plunged over a precipice. To lower the wagons down this precipice had
been a dreadful task.
The Donner Party unanimously decided to travel across the mountains in a
more direct line toward Salt Lake. They soon found rolling highlands and
small summit valleys on the divide between Weber River and Salt Lake.
Following down one of the small streams, they found a varying, irregular
canyon, down which they passed, filling its small stream with brush and
rocks, crossing and recrossing it, making roads, breaking and mending
wagons, until three weeks’ time had expired. The entire country was
heavily covered with timber and underbrush. When the party arrived at
the outlet of this stream into Salt Lake Valley, they found it utterly
impassable. It was exceedingly narrow, and was filled with huge rocks
from the cliffs on either side. Almost all the oxen in the train were
necessary in drawing each wagon out of the canyon and up the steep
overhanging mountain. While in this canyon, Stanton and Pike came up to
the company. These gentlemen encountered great hardships after their
horses gave out, and were almost starved to death when they reached the
train.
Instead of reaching Salt Lake in a week, as had been promised, the party
were over thirty days in making the trip. No words can describe what
they endured on this Hastings Cut-off. The terrible delay was rendering
imminent the dangers which awaited them on the Sierra Nevada. At last,
upon ascending the steep rugged mountain before mentioned, the vision of
Great Salt Lake, and the extensive plains surrounding it, burst upon
their enraptured gaze. All were wild with joy and gratitude for their
deliverance from the terrible struggle through which they had just
passed, and all hoped for a prosperous, peaceful journey over pleasant
roads throughout the remainder of the trip to California. Alas! there
were trials in the way compared with which their recent struggles were
insignificant. But for the fatal delay caused by the Hastings Cut-off,
all would have been well, but now the summer was passed, their teams and
themselves were well-nigh exhausted, and their slender stock of
provisions nearly consumed.
Chapter III.
A Grave of Salt
Members of the Mystic Tie
25
Twenty Wells
A Desolate Alkaline Waste
Abandoned on the Desert
A Night of Horror
A Steer Maddened by Thirst
The Mirage
Yoking an Ox and a Cow
”Cacheing” Goods
The Emigrant’s Silent Logic
A Cry for Relief
Two Heroic Volunteers
A Perilous Journey
Letters to Capt. Sutter.
Near the southern shore of great Salt Lake the Donner Party encamped on
the third or fourth of September, 1846. The summer had vanished, and
autumn had commenced tinting, with crimson and gold, the foliage on the
Wahsatch Mountains. While encamped here, the party buried the second
victim claimed by death. This time it was a poor consumptive named Luke
Halloran. Without friend or kinsman, Halloran had joined the train, and
was traveling to California in hopes that a change of climate might
effect a cure. Alas! for the poor Irishman, when the leaves began to
fall from the trees his spirit winged its flight to the better land. He
died in the wagon of Captain George Donner, his head resting in Mrs.
Tamsen Donner’s lap. It was at sundown. The wagons had just halted for
the night. The train had driven up slowly, out of respect to the dying
emigrant. Looking up into Mrs. Donner’s face, he said: ”I die happy.”
Almost while speaking, he died. In return for the many kindnesses he had
received during the journey, he left Mr. Donner such property as he
possessed, including about fifteen hundred dollars in coin. Hon. Jas. F.
Breen, of South San Juan, writes: ”Halloran’s body was buried in a bed
of almost pure salt, beside the grave of one who had perished in the
preceding train. It was said at the time that bodies thus deposited
would not decompose, on account of the preservative properties of the
salt. Soon after his burial, his trunk was opened, and Masonic papers
and regalia bore witness to the fact that Mr. Halloran was a member of
the Masonic Order. James F. Reed, Milton Elliott, and perhaps one or two
others in the train, also belonged to the mystic tie.”
On the sixth day of September they reached a meadow in a valley called
”Twenty Wells,” as there were that number of wells of various sizes,
from six inches to several feet in diameter. The water in these wells
rose even with the surface of the ground, and when it was drawn out the
wells soon refilled. The water was cold and pure, and peculiarly welcome
after the saline plains and alkaline pools they had just passed. Wells
similar to these were found during the entire journey of the following
day, and the country through which they were passing abounded in
luxuriant grass. Reaching the confines of the Salt Lake Desert, which
lies southwest of the lake, they laid in, as they supposed, an ample
supply of water and grass. This desert had been represented by Bridger
26
and Vasquez as being only about fifty miles wide. Instead, for a
distance of seventy-five miles there was neither water nor grass, but
everywhere a dreary, desolate, alkaline waste. Verily, it was
”A region of drought, where no river glides,
Nor rippling brook with osiered sides;
Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount,
Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty mount
Appears to refresh the aching eye,
But the barren earth and the burning sky,
And the blank horizon round and round
Spread, void of living sight or sound.”
When the company had been on the desert two nights and one day, Mr.
Reed
volunteered to go forward, and, if possible, to discover water. His
hired teamsters were attending to his teams and wagons during his
absence. At a distance of perhaps twenty miles he found the desired
water, and hastened to return to the train. Meantime there was intense
suffering in the party. Cattle were giving out and lying down helplessly
on the burning sand, or frenzied with thirst were straying away into the
desert. Having made preparations for only fifty miles of desert, several
persons came near perishing of thirst, and cattle were utterly powerless
to draw the heavy wagons. Reed was gone some twenty hours. During this
time his teamsters had done the wisest thing possible, unhitched the
oxen and started to drive them ahead until water was reached. It was
their intention, of course, to return and get the three wagons and the
family, which they had necessarily abandoned on the desert. Reed passed
his teamsters during the night, and hastened to the relief of his
deserted family. One of his teamster’s horses gave out before morning
and lay down, and while the man’s companions were attempting to raise
him, the oxen, rendered unmanageable by their great thirst, disappeared
in the desert. There were eighteen of these oxen. It is probable they
scented water, and with the instincts of their nature started out to
search for it. They never were found, and Reed and his family,
consisting of nine persons, were left destitute in the midst of the
desert, eight hundred miles from California. Near morning, entirely
ignorant of the calamity which had befallen him in the loss of his
cattle, he reached his family. All day long they looked and waited in
vain for the
returning teamsters. All the rest of the company had driven