The Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic FateHoughton, Eliza Poor Donner
History
The Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic Fate
Houghton, Eliza Poor Donner
Donner Party; Overland journeys to the Pacific
She inquired about Georgia, and how I came to be there without her.
Then she bade me call my husband, and thanked him for bringing me to
her. Forgetting all the faults and shortcomings that once had troubled
her sorely, she spoke of my busy childhood and the place I had won in
the affections of all who knew me.
A tender impulse took her from us a moment. She returned, saying, "Now,
you must not feel bad when you see what I have in the hand behind me,"
and drawing it forth continued, "This white lace veil which I bought at
Sutter's Fort when your mother's things were sold at auction, is to
cover my face when I am dead; and this picture of us three is to be
buried in the coffin with me. I want your husband to see how you looked
when you was little."
She appeared proudly happy; but a flame of embarrassment burned my
cheeks, as she handed him the picture wherein I showed to such
disadvantage, with the question, "Now, doesn't she look lovely?" and
heard his affirmative reply.
Upon the clock lay a broken toy which had been mine, and in childlike
ecstasy she spoke of it and of others which she had kept ever near her.
When invited to go to luncheon with us, she brought first her bonnet,
next her shawl, for me to hold while she should don her best apparel
for the occasion. Instead of going directly, she insisted on choosing
the longer road to town, that we might stop at Mrs. Lewis's to see if
she and her daughter Sallie would recognize me. Frequently as we walked
along, she hastened in advance, and then faced about on the road to
watch us draw near. When we reached Mrs. Lewis's door, she charged me
not to smile, and clapped her hands when both ladies appeared and
called me by name.
As we were taking leave, an aged horseman drew rein at the gate and
dismounted, and Mrs. Lewis looking up, exclaimed, "Why, there is Mr.
Brunner!"
It did not take me long to meet him part way down the walk, nor did I
shrink from the caress he gave me, nor know how much joy and pain that
meeting evoked in him, even after he turned to Mr. Houghton saying
fervently, "Do not be angry because I kiss your wife and put my arms
around her, for she is my child come back to me. I helped raise her,
and we learned her to do all kinds of work, what is useful, and she was
my comfort child in my troubles."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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