Class J^l_S.(h^ CALIFORNIA HISTORICAL COLLECTION Reminiscences and Memoirs of « GEN. VALLEJO GEN. BIDWELL GEN. FREMONT and Other Earlv Pioneers of the Western Overland .C :^3 M. V x^^ ADAPTED FROM A SKCTCM tr A. P. HILL. *A PIONKKK PALACK CAR. ACROSS THK PLAINS IX rUK DONNER PARTY (iS46> A PERSONAL NARRAllVE OF lllK OVERLAND TRIP TO CALIFORNL\. WAS a child when we started to Cahfornia, yet I remember the journey well and I have cause to remember it, as our little band of emigrants who drove out of Springfield, Illinois, that s[)ring morning of 1846 have since been known in history as the " Ill- fated Donner party" of " Martyr Pioneers. " My father, James F. Reed, was the originator of the party, and the Donner brothers, George and Jacob, who lived just a little way out of Springfield, decided to join him. All the previous winter we were preparing for the journey — and right here let me say that we suffered vastly more from fear of the Indians before starting than we did on the plains ; at least this was my case. In the long winter evenings Grandma Keyes used totell me Indian stories. She had an aunt who had been taken prisoner by the savages in the early settlement of Virginia and Kentucky and had remained a captive in their hands five years before she made her escape. I was fond of these stories and evening after evening would go into grand- ma's room, sitting with my back close against the wall so that no warrior could slip behind me with a tomahawk. I would coax her to tell me more about her aunt, and would sit listen- ing to the recital of the fearful deeds of the savages, until it seemed to me that everything in the room, from the high old-fa.shioned bed- posts down even to the shovel and tongs in the chimney comer, was transformed into the dusky tribe in paint and feathers, all ready for the war dance. So when I was told that we were going to California and would have to pass through a region peopleil by Indians. \i9i?m ^ i-A.. "^^ flowers of every imaginable color, and through this valley flowed the grand old Platte, a wide, rapid, shallow stream. Our company now numbered about forty wagons, and, t'or a time, we were commanded by Col. \\illiam H. Rus- sell, then by George Donner. Exercise in the open air under bright skies, And freedom from peril combined to make this jiari of our jour- ney an ideal pleasure trip. How 1 enjoyed riding my pony, galloping over the i)lain, gath- ering wild flowers! .At night the young folks would gather about the camp fire chatting merrily, and often a song would be heard, or some clever dancer would give us a barn-door jig on the hind gate of a wagon. to drink. The meat of the young buffalo is ex- ( client and so is that of the antelope, but the antelope are so fleet of foot it is diflicult to get a shot at one. I witnessed many a butlalo hunt and more than once was in the chase close beside my father. A buH'alo will not at- tack one unless wounded. When he sees the hunter he raises his shaggy head, ga/es at him for a moment, then turns and runs; but when he is wounded he will face his pursuer. The only danger lay in a stampede, for nothing could withstand the onward rush of these ma.s- sive creatures, whose tread seemed to shake the prairie. Antelope and buflalo steaks were the main 414 ACROSS THE PLAINS IN THE DONNER PARTY [1846). ^7 ^^«-^ . OLD TRAIL CROSSING HORSESHOE CREEK, A TRIBUTARY OF THE PLATTE. article on our bill-of-fare for weeks, and no tonic was needed to give zest for the food ; our appetites were a marvel. Eliza soon dis- covered that cooking over a camp fire was far different from cooking on a stove or range, but all hands assisted her. I remember that she had the cream all ready for the churn as we drove into the South Fork of the Platte, and while we were fording the grand old stream she went on with her work, and made several pounds of butter. We found no trouble in crossing the Platte, the only danger being in quicksand. The stream being wide, we had to stop the wagon now and then to give the oxen a few moments' rest. At Fort Laramie, two hun- dred miles farther on, we celebrated the fourth of July in fine style. Camp was pitched earlier than usual and we prepared a grand dinner. Some of my father's friends in Springfield had given him a bottle of good old brandy, which he agreed to drink at a certain hour of this day looking to the east, while his friends in Illi- nois were to drink a toast to his success from a companion bottle with their faces turned west, the difference in time being carefully estimated ; and at the hour agreed upon, the health of our friends in Springfield was drunk with great en- thusiasm. At Fort Laramie was a party of Sioux, who were on the war path going to fight the Crows or Blackfeet. The Sioux are fine- looking Indians and I was not in the least afraid of them. They fell in love with my pony and set about bargaining to buy him. They brought buffalo robes and beautifully tanned buckskin, pretty beaded moccasins, and ropes made of grass, and placing these articles in a heap alongside several of their ponies, they made my father understand by signs that they would give them all for Billy and his rider. Papa smiled and shook his head; then the number of ponies was increased and, as a last tempting inducement, they brought an old coat, that had been worn by some poor soldier, think- ing my father could not withstand the brass buttons ! On the sixth of July we were again on the march. The Sioux were several days in pass- ing our caravan, not on account of the length of our train, but because there were so many Sioux. Owing to the fact that our wagons were strung so far apart, they could have mas- sacred our whole party without much loss to themselves. Some of our company became alarmed, and the rifles were cleaned out and loaded, to let the warriors see that we were pre- pared to fight ; but the Sioux never showed any inclination to disturb us. Their curiosity was annoying, however, and our wagon with its conspicuous stove-pipe and looking-glass attracted their attention. They were contin- ually swarming about trying to get a look at themselves in the mirror, and their desire to possess my pony was so strong that at last I had to ride in the wagon and let one of the drivers take charge of Billy. This I did not like, and in order to see how far back the line of warriors extended, I picked up a large field-glass which hung on a rack, and as I pulled it out with a click, the warriors jumped back, wheeled their ponies and scattered. This pleased me greatly, and I told my mother I could fight the whole Sioux tribe with a sp)- glass, and as revenge for forcing me to ride in the wagon, whenever they came near trying to get a peep at their war-paint and feathers, I would raise the glass and laugh to see them dart away in terror. A new route had just been opened by Lans- ford W. Hastings, called the " Hastings Cut- off',"i which passed along the southern shore of the Great Salt Lake rejoining the old "Fort Hall Emigrant " Voad on the Humboldt. It was said to shorten the distance three hundred miles. Much time was lost in debating which course to pursue ; Bridger and Vasques, who were in charge of the fort, sounded the praises of the new road. My father was so eager to reach California that he was quick to take ad- 1 For an account of Hastings, see The Century for December 1890, p. 176. — Ed. ACROSS THE PLAINS IX 11 !E DONNE R PARTY {1846). 415 vantage of any means to shorten the distance, to cross towards the lake. Only those who and we were assured by Hastings and his party have passed through this country on horsehac k that the only bad i)art was the forty-mile drive can appreciate the situation. There was ab- through the desert by the shore of the lake, solutely no road, not even a trail. The canon None of our party knew then, as we learned afterwards, that these men had an interest in the road, being employed by Hastings. But for the advice of these i)arties we should have continued on the old Fort Hall road. Our company had increased in numbers all along the line, and was now composed of .some of tiie ver)' best j^eople and some of the worst. The greater portion of our comi)anv went bv the old road and reached California in safety. Eighty-seven persons took the " Hastings Cut- wound around among the hills. Heavy under- brush had to be cut away and used for making a road bed. While cutting our way step by step through the " Hastings Cut-off," we were overtaken and joined by the Craves family, consisting of \V. F. Graves, his wife and eight children, his son-in-law Jay Fosdick, and a young man by the name of John Snyder. Finally we reached the end of tiie canon where it looked as though our wagons would have to be abandoned. It seemed impossible for off," including the Uonners, Breens, Reeds, the oxen to pull them up the steep hill and the Murphys (not the Murphys of Santa Clara bluffs beyond, but we doubled teams and the County), C. T. Stanton, John Denton, Wm. work was, at last, accomplished, almost every McClutchen, W'm. Eddy, I>ouis Kcseburg,and yoke in the train being re(|uired to pull u]» each many others too numerous to mention in a short wagon. While in this canon Stanton and Pike article like this. And these are the unfortunates came into camp ; they had suffered greatly on who have since been known as the " Donner account of the exhaustion of their horses and Party." had come near perishing. Worn with travel and On the morning of July 31 we parted with greatly discour- our traveling companions, some of whom had aged we reached become ver\' dear friends, and, without a sus- picion of impending disaster, set off in high spirits on the " Hastings Cut-off" ; but a few days showed us that the road was not as it had been represented. We were seven days in reaching Weber Canon, and Ha.stings, who and was guiding a party in advance of our train, were the shore of the Great Salt Lake. It had taken an entire month, in- stead of a week, our cattle not fit to left a note by the wayside warning us that the cross the desert road through Weber Canon was impassable We were now and advising us to select a road over the moun- encamped tains, the outline of which he attempted to give in a val- on paper. These directions were so vague that ley called '^ C. T. Stanton, William Pike, and my father "Twenty rode on in advance and overtook Hast- - ^ ings and tried to in- duce him to return and guide our party. 1 1 e refused, but came back over a portion of the road, and from a high mountain en- deavored to point out the general course. Over this road my father trav- eled alone, taking notes, and blazing trees, to assist him in retracing his course, and reaching camp after an absence of four days. Learning of the hardships of the advance train, _ the party decided . nati-ral bridge on la v^txjt rivek. 4i6 ACROSS THE PLAINS IN THE DONNER PARTY {1846). THE EMIGRANT TRAIL THROUGH THE BAD LANDS, WYOMING. Wells." The water in these wells was pure and cold, welcome enough after the alka- line pools from which we had been forced to drink. We prepared for the long drive across the desert and laid in, as we supposed, an ample supply of water and grass. This desert had been represented to us as only forty miles wide but we found it nearer eighty. It was a dreary, desolate, alkali waste; not a living thing could be seen; it seemed as though the hand of death had been laid upon the country. We started in the evening, traveled all that night, and the following day and night — two nights and one day of suffering from thirst and heat by day and piercing cold by night. When the third night fell and we saw the barren waste stretching away apparently as boundless as when we started, my father determined to go ahead in search of water. Before starting he instructed the drivers, if the cattle showed signs of giving out to take them from the wagons and follow him. He had not been gone long before the oxen began to fall to the ground from thirst and exhaustion. They were unhitched at once and driven ahead. My father coming back met the drivers with the cattle within ten miles of water and instructed them to return as soon as the animals had satisfied their thirst. He reached us about daylight. \^ waited all that day in the desert looking for the return of our drivers, the other wagons going on out of sight. Towards night the situation became desperate and we had only a itw drops of water left ; another night there meant death. We ^jw- GREAT DESERT TO THE WEST OF SALT LAKE. ACROSS TIfE PLAINS IX TlfE DONNER PARTY {1846). •M7 must set out on foot and try to reach some of oxen before reacliing Hridger's Fort fromdrink- the wagons. Can I ever forget that night in the ing poisoned water found standing in j)ools,and desert, when we walked mile after mile in the had bought at the fort two yoke of young steers, darkness, every step seeming to be the very last but now all were gone, and my father and his we couhi take! Suddenly all fatigue was ban- family were left in the desert, eight hundred ished by fear : through the night came a swift miles from California, seemingly heli)less. \Vc rushing sound ofoneof the voung steers crazed realized that our wagons must be abandoned. hboiaibK HucK, IDAHO, A LANL/MAKK ui- M k.sl bKN t.MloKA 1 t