Eliza P. Donner Houghton, Frontispiece, 1911. Larger.
The California gold rush offered many men the opportunity to strike it rich. When these men left their families in search of gold, however, women became the sole providers for their families.
Eliza P. Donner Houghton, a survivor of the ill-fated Donner Party, remembered what California life became for many women after gold was discovered in 1848.
. . . the astounding cry, "Gold discovered!" came through the valley like a blight, stopping every industry in its wake. . . . Grandpa brought the news home, "California is ours. There will be no more war, no more trouble, and no more need of soldiers. . . ." Yet the women felt that their battles and trials had just begun, since they had suddenly become the sole home-keepers, with limited ways and means to provide for the children and care for the stock and farms. Discouragement would have rendered the burdens of many too heavy to carry, had not "work together," and "help your neighbor," become the watchwords of the day. No one was allowed to suffer through lack of practical sympathy. From house to house, by turns, went the strong to help the weak to bridge their troubles. They went, not with cheering words only, but with something in store for the empty cupboards.
"ARRIVAL OF RELIEF PARTY, FEBRUARY 18, 1847." "From an old drawing made from description furnished by Wm. G. Murphy," illustration from The Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic Fate, 1911. Larger.
Tales of cannibalism often cloud the image of the Donner Party, while the survivors' experiences of starting over, enduring gossip, and receiving fake sympathy are overlooked.
Eliza Donner and her sisters were rescued by relief parties at Donner Lake. Here she describes the initial months after the rescue, while recuperating at Sutter's Fort.
The report of our affliction spread rapidly, and the well-meaning, tender-hearted women at the Fort came to condole and weep with us, and made their children weep also by urging, "Now, do say something comforting to these poor little girls, who were frozen and starved up in the mountains, and are now orphans in a strange land, without any home or any one to care for them." Such ordeals were too overwhelming. I would rush off alone among the wild flowers to get away from the torturing sympathy. Even there, I met those who would look at me with great serious eyes, shake their heads, and mournfully say, "You poor little mite, how much better it would be if you had died in the mountains with your dear mother, instead of being left alone to struggle in this wicked world!" This would but increase my distress, for I did not want to be dead and buried up there under the cold, deep snow, and I knew that mother did not want me to be there either.
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