A Wife's Devotion
Tamsen Donner's Early Life
The Early Settlers of Sangamon County
An Incident in School
Teaching and Knitting
School Discipline
Captain George Donner's Appearance
Parting Scenes at Alder Creek
Starting over the Mountains
A Baby's Death
A Mason's Vow
Crossing the Snow Barrier
More Precious than Gold or Diamonds
Elitha Donner's Kindness.
Mrs. Tamsen Donner was well and comparatively strong, and could easily have crossed the mountains in safety with this party. Her husband, however, was suffering from a serious swelling on one of his hands. Some time before reaching the mountains he had accidentally hurt this hand while handling a wagon. After encamping at Alder Creek he was anxious to assist in the arrangements and preparations for winter, and while thus working the old wound reopened. Taking cold in the hand, it became greatly swollen and inflamed, and he was rendered entirely helpless. Mrs. Donner was urged to go with the relief party, but resolutely determined to heed the promptings of wifely devotion and remain by her husband.
No one will ever read the history of the Donner Party without greatly loving and reverencing the character of this faithful wife. The saddest, most tear-stained page of the tragedy, relates to her life and death in the mountains. A better acquaintance with the Donner family, and especially with Mrs. Tamsen Donner, can not fail to be desirable in view of succeeding chapters. Thanks to Mr. Allen Francis, the present United States Consul at Victoria, British Columbia, very complete, authentic, and interesting information upon this subject has been furnished. Mr. Francis was publisher of the Springfield (Illinois) Journal in 1846, and a warm personal friend of the family.
The Donners were among the first settlers of Sangamon County, Ill. They were North Carolinians, immigrants to Kentucky in 1818, subsequently to the State of Indiana, and from thence to what was known as the Sangamon Country, in the year 1828.
George Donner, at the time of leaving Springfield, Ill., was a large, fine-looking man, fully six feet in height, with merry black eyes, and the blackest of hair, lined with an occasional silver thread. He possessed a cheerful disposition, an easy temperament, industrious habits, sound judgment, and much general information. By his associates and neighbors he was called "Uncle George." To him they went for instructions relating to the management of their farms, and usually they returned feeling they had been properly advised. Twice had death bequeathed him a group of motherless children, and Tamsen was his third wife.
Her parents, William and Tamsen Eustis, were respected and well to do residents of Newburyport, Mass., where she was born in November, 1801. Her love of books made her a student at an early age; almost as soon as the baby-dimples left her cheeks, she sought the school-room, which afforded her great enjoyment. Her mother's death occurred before she attained her seventh year, and for a time her childish hopes and desires were overshadowed with sadness by this, her first real sorrow. But the sympathy of friends soothed her grief, and her thirst for knowledge led her back to the schoolroom, where she pursued her studies with greater eagerness than before.
Her father married again, and little Tamsen's life was rendered happier by this event; for in her step-mother she found a friend who tenderly directed her thoughts and encouraged her work. At fifteen years of age she finished the course of study, and her proficiency in mathematics, geometry, philosophy, etc., called forth the highest praise of her teachers and learned friends. She, like many daughters of New England, felt that talents are intrusted to be used, and that each life is created for some definite purpose. She therefore resolved to devote herself to the instruction of the young, and after teaching at Newburyport for a short time, she accepted a call to fill a vacancy in the academy at Elizabeth City, N. C., where she continued an earnest and appreciated teacher for a number of years. She became a fluent French scholar while at that institution, and her leisure hours were devoted to the fine arts. Her paintings and drawings were much admired for their correctness in outline, subdued coloring, and delicacy in shading.
In Elizabeth City she met Mr. Dozier, a young man of education and good family, and they were married. He was not a man of means, but her forethought enabled them to live comfortably. For a few brief years she enjoyed all the happiness which wedded bliss and maternal love could confer, then death came, and in a few short weeks her husband and two babes were snatched from her arms. In her desolation and bereavement she thought of her old home, and longed for the sympathy of her childhood's friends. She returned to Newburyport, where she spent three years in retirement and rest. In 1836, she received a letter from her brother in Illinois, urging her to come to his afflicted household, and teach his motherless children. She remained with them one winter, but her field of action had been too wide to permit her to settle quietly on a farm. Besides, she had heard much of the manner in which country schools were conducted, and became desirous of testing her ability in controlling and teaching such a school. She obtained one in Auburn, and soon became the friend of her pupils. All agreed that Mrs. Dozier was a faithful teacher until the following little incident occurred. The worthy Board of School Trustees heard that Mrs. Dozier was in the habit of knitting during school hours. "Surely, she could not knit and instruct her pupils properly; therefore, she must either give up her knitting or her school." When Mrs. Dozier heard their resolution, she smiled, and said: "Before those gentlemen deny my ability to impart knowledge and work with my fingers at the same time, I would like them to visit my school, and judge me by the result of their observation."
A knock at the school-room door, a week later, startled the children, and a committee of trustees entered. Mrs. Dozier received them in the most ladylike manner, and after they were seated, she called each class at its appointed time. The recitations were heard, and lessons explained, yet no one seemed disturbed by the faint, but regular, click of knitting needles. For hours those gentlemen sat in silence, deeply interested in all that transpired. When the time for closing school arrived, the teacher invited the trustees to address her pupils, after which she dismissed school, thanked her visitor for their kind attention, and went home without learning their opinion.
The next morning she was informed that the Board of Trustees had met the previous evening, and after hearing the report of the visiting committee, had unanimously agreed that Mrs. Dozier might continue her school and her knitting also. This little triumph was much enjoyed by her friends.