the seven who survived of the ”Forlorn Hope,” Capt. Tucker’s party had
been organized at Johnson’s and Sutter’s, and had reached Dormer Lake
first.
When Foster and Eddy attempted to form a relief party, they found the
same difficulty in securing volunteers which others had encountered. It
was such a terrible undertaking, that no man cared to risk his life in
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the expedition.
Captain J. B. Hull, of the United States navy, and Commander of the
Northern District of California, furnished Foster and Eddy with horses
and provisions. Setting out from Johnson’s ranch, they arrived at
Woodworth’s camp in the afternoon. During that very night two of Reed’s
men came to the camp, and brought news that Reed and a portion of his
party were a short distance back in the mountains. When Reed and his
companions were brought into camp, and it was ascertained that fourteen
people had been left in the snow, without food, the third relief party
was at once organized. The great danger and suffering endured by those
who had composed the first and second relief parties, prevented men from
volunteering. On this account greater honor is due those who determined
to peril their lives to save the emigrants. Hiram Miller, although weak
and exhausted with the fatigues and starvation he had just undergone in
the second relief party, joined Messrs. Foster and Eddy. These three,
with Wm. Thompson, John Stark, Howard Oakley, and Charles Stone, set out
from Woodworth’s camp the next morning after Reed’s arrival. It was
agreed that Stark, Oakley, and Stone were to remain with the sufferers
at Starved Camp, supply them with food, and conduct them to Woodworth’s
camp. Foster, Eddy, Thompson, and Miller were to press forward to the
relief of those at Donner Lake. The three men, therefore, whose voices
reached Mrs. Breen, were Stark, Oakley, and Stone.
When these members of the third relief party reached the deep, well-like
cavity in which were the seven Breens, the three Graves children, and
Mary Donner, a serious question arose. None of the eleven, except Mrs.
Breen and John Breen, were able to walk. A storm appeared to be
gathering upon the mountains, and the supply of provisions was very
limited. The lonely situation, the weird, desolate surroundings, the
appalling scenes at the camp, and above all, the danger of being
overtaken by a snow-storm, filled the minds of Oakley and Stone with
terror. When it was found that nine out of the eleven people must be
carried over the snow, it is hardly to be wondered at that a proposition
was made to leave a portion of the sufferers. It was proposed to take
the three Graves children and Mary Donner. These four children would be
quite a sufficient burden for the three men, considering the snow over
which they must travel. The Breens, or at least such of them as could
not walk, were to be abandoned. This was equivalent to leaving the
father, mother, and five children, because the mother would not abandon
any member of her family, and John, who alone could travel, was in a
semi-lifeless condition. The members of the third relief party are said
to have taken a vote upon the question. This scene is described in the
manuscript of Hon. James F. Breen: ”Those who were in favor of returning
to the settlements, and leaving the Breens for a future relief party
(which, under the circumstances, was equivalent to the death penalty),
were to answer ’aye.’ The question was put to each man by name, and as
the names were called, the dreadful ’aye’ responded. John Stark’s name
was the last one called, because he had, during the discussion of the
question, strongly opposed the proposition for abandonment, and it was
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naturally supposed that when he found himself in so hopeless a minority
he would surrender. When his name was called, he made no answer until
some one said to him: ’Stark, won’t you vote?’ Stark, during all this
proceeding of calling the roll, had stood apart from his companions with
bowed head and folded arms. When he was thus directly appealed to, he
answered quickly and decidedly: ”No, gentlemen, I will not abandon these
people. I am here on a mission of mercy, and I will not half do the
work. You can all go if you want to, but I shall stay by these people
while they and I live.”
It was nobly said. If the Breens had been left at Starved Camp, even
until the return of Foster, Eddy, Miller, and Thompson from the lake,
none would have ever reached the settlements. In continuation of the
above narration, the following is taken from the manuscript of John
Breen: ”Stark was finally left alone. To his great bodily strength, and
unexcelled courage, myself and others owe our lives. There was probably
no other man in California at that time, who had the intelligence,
determination, and what was absolutely necessary in that emergency, the
immense physical powers of John Stark. He was as strong as two ordinary
men. On his broad shoulders, he carried the provisions, most of the
blankets, and most of the time some of the weaker children. In regard to
this, he would laughingly say that he could carry them all, if there was
room on his back, because they were so light from starvation.”
By every means in his power, Stark would cheer and encourage the poor
sufferers. Frequently he would carry one or two ahead a little way, put
them down, and return for the others. James F. Breen says: ”I distinctly
remember that myself and Jonathan Graves were both carried by Stark, on
his back, the greater part of the journey.” Others speak similarly.
Regarding this brave man, Dr. J. C. Leonard has contributed much
valuable information, from which is selected the following:
”John Stark was born in 1817, in Wayne County, Indiana. His father,
William Stark, came from Virginia, and was one of the first settlers of
Kentucky, arriving there about the same time as Daniel Boone. He married
a cousin of Daniel Boone, and they had a family of eight children. T. J.
Stark, the oldest son, now lives at French Corral, Nevada County,
California. John Stark, the younger brother, started from Monmouth
County, Illinois, in the spring of 1846, but taking the Fort Hall road,
reached California in safety. He was a powerfully built man, weighing
two hundred and twenty pounds. He was sheriff of Napa County for six
years, and in 1852 represented that county in the State Legislature. He
died near Calistoga, in 1875, of heart disease. His death was
instantaneous, and occurred while pitching hay from a wagon. He was the
father of eleven children, six of whom, with his wife, are now living.”
Each one of the persons who were taken from Starved Camp by this man
and
his two companions, reached Sutter’s Fort in safety. James F. Breen had
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his feet badly frozen, and afterwards burned while at the camp. No one
had any hope that they could be saved, and when the party reached the
fort, a doctor was sought to amputate them. None could be found, and
kind nature effected a cure which a physician would have pronounced
impossible.
In concluding this chapter, it is quite appropriate to quote the
following, written by J. F. Breen: ”No one can attach blame to those who
voted to leave part of the emigrants. It was a desperate case. Their
idea was to save as many as possible, and they honestly believed that by
attempting to save all, all would be lost. But this consideration - and
the further one that Stark was an entire stranger to every one in the
camps, not bound to them by any tie of blood or kindred, nor having any
hope of reward, except the grand consciousness of doing a noble act -
makes his conduct shine more lustrously in the eyes of every person who
admires nature’s true and only nobility.”
Chapter XVIII.
Arrival of the Third Relief
The Living and the Dead
Captain George Donner Dying
Mrs. Murphy’s Words
Foster and Eddy at the Lake
Tamsen Donner and her Children
A Fearful Struggle
The Husband’s Wishes
Walking Fourteen Miles
Wifely Devotion
Choosing Death
The Night Journey
An Unparalleled Ordeal
An Honored Name
Three Little Waifs
”And Our Parents are Dead.”
Eddy, Foster, Thompson, and Miller passed Nicholas Clark and John
Baptiste near the head of Donner Lake. These starving fugitives had
journeyed thus far in their desperate effort to cross the mountains. Of
all those encamped at Alder Creek the sole survivors now were George
Donner, the captain of the Donner Party, and his faithful wife, Tamsen
Donner. Under the snowdrifts which covered the valley, lay Jacob Donner,
Elizabeth Donner, Lewis Donner, Samuel Donner, Samuel Shoemaker, Joseph
Rhinehart, and James Smith. One more was soon to be added to the number.
It was the man whose name had been given to the company; the only one
who died of a lingering, painful disease. The injury of George Donner’s
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hand had grown into a feverish, virulent ulceration, which must have
partaken of the nature of erysipelas. At all events, mortification had
set in, and when the third relief party arrived it had reached his
shoulder. In a few hours at most he must die.
Foster’s party found that much suffering had occurred at Donner Lake
during the tearful days which elapsed between Reed’s departure and their
own arrival. Mrs. Lavina Murphy had charge of her son, Simon Murphy, her
grandchild, George Foster, of the child James Eddy, and of the three
little Donner girls, Frances, Georgia, and Eliza. All dwelt in the same
cabin, and with them was Lewis Keseberg. Foster and Eddy found all
there, save their own children. They were both dead. Keseberg has
generally been accused of the murder of little George Foster. Except
Mrs. Murphy, the oldest of those who were with Keseberg was only nine
years of age. All that the children know is that Keseberg took the child
to bed with him one night, and that it was dead next morning. One of the
little ones who survived - one whose memory has proven exceedingly
truthful upon all points wherein her evidence could be possibly
substantiated - and who is now Mrs. Georgia A. Babcock - gives the
mildest version of this sad affair which has ever appeared in print. She
denies the story, so often reiterated, that Keseberg took the child to
bed with him and ate it up before morning; but writes the following: ”In
the morning the child was dead. Mrs. Murphy took it, sat down near the
bed where my sister and myself were lying, laid the little one on her
lap, and made remarks to other persons, accusing Keseberg of killing it.
After a while he came, took it from her, and hung it up in sight, inside
the cabin, on the wall.”
Foster, Eddy, Thompson, and Miller remained but a little while at the
mountain camp. During this time Mr. Foster had no opportunity to talk
with Mrs. Murphy save in Keseberg’s presence. Afterwards, when the
children told him of the suspicions expressed in their presence by Mrs.
Murphy, Foster deeply regretted that he had not sought a private
interview with her, for the purpose of learning the reasons for her
belief.
In the morning the relief party was to start back to the settlements.
Eddy was to carry Georgia Donner; Thompson, Frances Donner; Miller,
Eliza Donner; and Foster was to carry Simon Murphy. John Baptiste and
Nicholas Clark remained at the head of Donner Lake, and were to
accompany the party. This left Mr. and Mrs. Donner at Alder Creek, and
Keseberg and Mrs. Murphy at the cabins. Mrs. Murphy had cared for her
children and her grandchildren, and ministered to the wants of those
around her, until she was sick, exhausted, and utterly helpless. She
could not walk. She could scarcely rise from her bed. With all the
tenderness of a son, Mr. Foster gave her such provisions as he could
leave, procured her wood, and did whatever he was able to do to render
her comfortable. He also promised to return speedily, and with such
assistance that he could carry her over the summits to her children.
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The very afternoon that the third relief party reached the cabins, Simon
Murphy discovered a woman wandering about in the snow as if lost. It
proved to be Mrs. Tamsen Donner. She had wearily traveled over the deep
snows from Alder Creek, as narrated in a previous chapter, to see her
children, and, if necessary, to protect their lives. Oh! the joy and the
pain of the meeting of those little ones and their mother. As they wound
their arms about her neck, kissed her lips, laughed in her eyes, and
twined their fingers in her hair, what a struggle must have been taking
place in her soul. As the pleading, upturned faces of her babies begged
her not to leave them, her very heart-strings must have been rent with
agony. Well may the voice quiver or the hand tremble that attempts to
portray the anguish of this mother during that farewell interview. From
the very first moment, her resolution to return to her husband remained
unshaken. The members of the relief party entreated her to go with her,
children and save her own life. They urged that there could only be a
few hours of life left in George Donner. This was so true that she once
ventured the request that they remain until she could return to Alder
Creek, and see if he were yet alive. The gathering storm-clouds, which
had hovered over the summit for days, compelled them to refuse this
request. An hour’s delay might be fatal to all.
George Donner knew that he was dying, and had frequently urged his wife
to leave him, cross the mountains, and take care of her children. As she <