Pathways To the West
The saga of the American West is etched in the landscapes and the memories of those who dared to traverse its vast expanses. This is a tale of trails carved by ambition, necessity, and the relentless pursuit of a better life. Among these pathways, the Santa Fe Trail, the Oregon Trail, and the ill-fated route of the Donner Party stand as powerful testaments to the triumphs and tragedies that defined westward expansion. In 1918, Emerson Hough captured the essence of this era, chronicling the transformation of the American frontier and the enduring spirit of those who ventured into the unknown. The story of Pathways to the West is a rich tapestry woven from threads of commerce, exploration, and the indomitable human will.
The Santa Fe Trail, now fading from collective memory, once held a prominent place in the American imagination. During its zenith, this historic thoroughfare embodied the most romantic and alluring aspects of frontier life. It served as a vital artery of commerce, connecting the burgeoning American frontier with the Spanish settlements of the Southwest, particularly the town of Santa Fe. The trail’s origins can be traced back to 1822, when a small group of approximately sixty individuals initiated trade by transporting goods across the lower plains using pack animals. By 1826, the scale of operations had expanded significantly, employing one hundred men and utilizing wagons and mules for transportation. By 1830, the annual trade volume had reached $120,000 with the introduction of oxen. The peak year was 1843, just before the closure of Spanish ports, with the trail facilitating commerce valued at $450,000, involving 230 wagons and 350 men.
This pioneering wagon trail fostered initial interaction between the United States and the Spanish civilization of the Southwest. Though its commercial significance may be diminished today, the Santa Fe Trail retains immense historical value. In an era dominated by land transport, wheeled vehicles became essential for conveying civilization into the West, adhering to river valleys as natural routes and havens for home-seeking settlers. This pattern mirrors the historical progression of civilization, where valleys served as conduits for advancement.
The Arkansas River Valley presented an ideal route, offering essential resources such as food and water, a gentle gradient, and a direct passage westward toward Spanish territories. Wheeled vehicles were capable of traversing this terrain, transporting dry goods, hardware, and notably, domestic cotton fabrics, which were fundamental in "Santa Fe assortments." The people of the Middle West were now capable of self-sufficiency and had a surplus to export. Beyond lay a market in a strange, uncharted land.
Following the explorations of Lewis and Clark along the Missouri River, Captain Zebulon Pike utilized the Arkansas River Valley to identify the southwestern boundaries of the United States. Pike mistakenly believed he had located the Red River’s source when he reached the headwaters of the Rio Grande after a challenging journey. His travels led him to Chihuahua, Mexico, where he was held for months. Pike’s accounts of the Southwest sparked interest in trade along the Santa Fe Trail. At the time, geography held immense practical importance. People were more interested in adventure stories than stock market reports, focusing on tales of individuals returning from the West.
The Spanish population of the Southwest, centered around the Rio Grande and Red River, had long relied on long and expensive trade routes from Vera Cruz for cotton goods and other necessities. The Santa Fe Trail offered a more direct and efficient route, bringing American goods to Spanish settlements. Following Pike’s reports, the potential of this trade became apparent to merchants.
The title of "Father of the Santa Fe Trail" is contested. As early as 1812, during the War of 1812, the McKnight, Baird, and Chambers Party ventured westward to Santa Fe for trade. However, their expedition ended in disaster, with goods confiscated and the party imprisoned for nine years. Despite this setback, the survivors’ stories only fueled the ambition of other traders. By 1821, several American traders reached Santa Fe. With the Mexicans having overthrown Spanish rule, their goods were eagerly purchased rather than confiscated.
It is important to note that trade with Mexico was not entirely new. Fur traders and trappers had already established routes to New Spain from the Platte River Valley, southward along the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains through Wyoming and Colorado. As early as 1804, a French Creole agent of Bryant & Morrison of Kaskaskia, Illinois, had reached Spanish territories while Lewis and Clark were exploring the upper wilderness. The annual Rocky Mountain Rendezvous demanded supplies of food, traps, and ammunition for trappers. Pack trains that supplied this mountain market may have already traded in Spanish territories.
This early prairie commerce generated profits and shaped the character of those involved. It significantly influenced the country along the Missouri River border, attracting more people from the eastern settlements to the edge of the Great Plains. The restless, westbound population thickened up to the line between the known and the unknown.
The Arkansas River Valley led southward to New Spain, while other pathways extended from the Mississippi River into the unknown. The Missouri River was the primary frontier road, flowing along the eastern edge of the Plains and reaching the most adventurous settlements in the Mississippi Valley. Navigating its turbulent current required pushing northward past the Platte River and across vast virgin lands. The river then bent westward, its great falls indicating its high source.
Reflecting on this now-accessible region, one should remember the voyages of Manuel Lisa and other traders following the Lewis and Clark Expedition. These traders struggled against the Missouri’s current, driven by a desire for new lands. This sheds light on the endeavors of the American Fur Company and figures such as Robert Campbell, William Sublette, General Ashley, and Nathaniel Wyeth, followed by names like Benjamin Bonneville and John Fremont. To these early adventurers, the idea of farms or homes in this wild country was inconceivable.
One should also visualize the millions of buffalo that once roamed these plains and consider the waste of their slaughter. The Mackinaw boats, laden with buffalo and beaver pelts worth ten dollars per pound in St. Louis, would make their way down the Missouri River. One should remember the tribesmen adorned in fur-trimmed war shirts and plumed bonnets, armed with lances, bows, and shields, and how they acquired their horses and food.
The Oregon Trail, also known as the Overland Trail, followed the Missouri River up the Platte Valley and across the mountains. Its continuous use by fur traders, Forty-Niners, cattlemen, railroads, and settlers made it more prominent.
The Platte River route shared similarities with the Arkansas River Valley in physical features. Both passed over rolling, grass-covered prairies before entering the high, drylands of the Plains. However, the Santa Fe Trail had Spanish influences, while the Platte Valley remained more American.
The frontier transformed those who came to it and indirectly affected those further east. A new people were forming, shaped by a new environment. The frontier and its ways were imprinting themselves on the human product of the land.
The large wagon trains of the Platte Valley differed from the smaller groups of fur hunters and ox-trains of the Santa Fe Trail. The primary users of the Oregon Trail were not traders or trappers, but homebuilders seeking to establish themselves beyond the Rockies.
Fur traders had charted the Oregon Trail, and missionaries had traveled it in the 1830s. The Argonauts of ’49 used it until crossing the Rockies. Reports of resources beyond gold in the Northwest prompted farmers, homebuilders, and families to travel to Oregon before the Gold Rush.
John Fremont’s 1842 expedition, guided by Kit Carson and Bill Williams, further popularized the Oregon Trail. Fremont’s writings ignited enthusiasm, leading many to seek homes beyond the frontier. This trek of thousands occurred more than ten years before the Civil War, with the cattle trade yet to be imagined.
The nation’s horizon expanded along this dusty route. The most iconic figure of the American West is not the fringed-legging man on a pony, but the sad-faced woman in a sunbonnet, following her husband westward. She represents the seed of America’s wealth and the great romance of the nation.
The days of the Oregon Trail were momentous, often tragic. Understanding its significance requires understanding the lives of the men and women who undertook this great adventure, abandoning the known for the unknown in Oregon or California.
C.F. McGlashan’s The History of the Donner Party provides a detailed account of the 1846 tragedy. Living near Donner Lake, McGlashan had direct contact with survivors. The Donner Party, typical of home-seeking caravans, aimed to establish homes, not to strike it rich in the mines. McGlashan’s work offers insight into the people, their ambitions, and the hardships they faced.
In 1846, the Mississippi River states were sparsely populated, but the promise of fertile, healthy land in the Pacific drew the Donner Party from Illinois, Iowa, Tennessee, Missouri, and Ohio. Organized in Sangamon County, Illinois, by George and Jacob Donner and James F. Reed, the party left Springfield, Illinois, in early April 1846, reaching Independence, Missouri, by the first week of May.
Here, the party grew to include about 100 people, including families, lovers, and individuals seeking new opportunities.
The scenery along the emigrant road was novel and unexpected. Unlike later years, when the road was well-marked, in 1846, the way was through trackless valleys, rivers, and mountains, guided only by the sun. Trading posts were few, and encounters with humans were rare. Survivors recall peaceful early days with flowers, abundant game, music, and camaraderie.
The Donner Party’s formation was accidental, with small groups joining the larger train. By the time it left Independence, Missouri, it included between two and three hundred wagons, stretching for two miles. The Donner Party proper numbered ninety.
The caravan included adventurers, single men, and families, some with considerable means. Tamsen Dormer, George Donner’s wife, was an educated woman, a musician, linguist, and botanist.
Tamsen Donner’s letters from the route provide valuable insights into daily life. The emigrants encountered few significant challenges initially, following a well-known route up the Platte Valley.
In a letter dated June 16, 1846, near the Junction of the North and South Platte, Tamsen Donner wrote, "The roads have been good, and the food is plentiful. The water for part of the way has been indifferent, but at no time have our cattle suffered for it. Wood is now very scarce, but buffalo chips are excellent; they kindle quickly and retain heat, surprisingly."
She also noted the lack of fear of Indians, the abundance of meat, and the suitability of linsey dresses for children. The prairies between the Blue and Platte Rivers were described as beautiful and suitable for cultivation.
The Donner Party reached Fort Laramie, Wyoming, by the Fourth of July. They proceeded west over the Sweetwater River and across the South Pass, a relatively easy mountain pass. They reached Fort Bridger, a trading post, where they made a fateful decision.
The party was advised to take a new cut-off, supposedly shortening the distance by 300 miles. This route passed along the south shore of Great Salt Lake and rejoined the California Trail from Fort Hall, Idaho.
At Fort Bridger, the Donner Party debated which route to take and divided. Those who took the old road north of Salt Lake via Fort Hall reached California safely. Eighty-seven members of the original Donner Party took the cut-off, hoping to save time. After facing immense difficulties, they reached Salt Lake. Further west, they lost many cattle in the Nevada deserts.
Dissensions and grumblings arose. The story culminated tragically near the summit of the Sierras on the shores of Donner Lake. McGlashan’s account describes the events.
"Generally, the ascent of the Sierra brought joy and gladness to weary overland emigrants. To the Donner Party, it brought terror and dismay. The company had hardly obtained a glimpse of the mountains before the winter storm clouds began to assemble their hosts around the loftier crests. Every day, the weather appeared more ominous and threatening. The delay at the Truckee Meadows had been brief, but every day ultimately cost a dozen lives."
On October 23, the party became alarmed and resumed their journey. It was too late. On October 28, 1846, at Prosser Creek, they were trapped by six inches of snow, with two to five feet on the summits. The Sierra had donned its winter coat a month early.
The party scattered, lacking a unified plan. Some reached Donner Lake on October 31, while others never made it past Prosser Creek. By the evening of October 29, some struggled through the snow to the foot of the cliffs between the summit and the lake, then turned back.
The emigrants were overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings. Panic set in, and organization collapsed. A sense of community vanished, replaced by self-preservation. The road disappeared under the snow.
"The emigrants suffered a thousand deaths. The pitiless snow came down in large, steady masses. All understood that the storm meant death. One of the Indians silently wrapped his blanket about him and, in deepest dejection, seated himself beside a tall pine. In this position, he passed the entire night, only moving occasionally to keep from being covered with snow. Mrs. Reed spread down a shawl, placed her four children – Virginia, Patty, James, and Thomas – thereon, and, putting another shawl over them, sat by the side of her babies during all the long hours of darkness. Every little while, she was compelled to lift the upper shawl and shake off the rapidly accumulating snow."
The storm lasted for days. Mules and oxen strayed and were buried in the drifts. Moving through the deep snow was nearly impossible. Most cattle perished, and the few found were slaughtered for food.
Supplies dwindled. On November 12, a relief party failed to cross the summit. F. W. Graves suggested making snowshoes from oxbows and hides.
Fifteen volunteers attempted to cross the mountains to California, including mothers and a young woman. Desperation fueled their efforts. California seemed their only hope. They traveled four miles the first day and six miles the next, crossing the divide.
Starving, cold, and exhausted, they faced brutal storms. On December 27, they resorted to cannibalism, consuming the dead.
Seven of the fifteen reached the Sacramento Valley, including Mary Graves. Their story ignited California, leading to three relief expeditions. Rescuers faced as much danger as the victims.
Starvation claimed lives at Donner Lake. Tamsen Donner’s diary was lost, but Patrick Breen’s diary offers a stark record of the winter.
Breen’s entries detail deaths, dwindling supplies, and the constant snow.
Lewis Keseberg, a survivor, was accused of cannibalism. Tamsen Donner died in his cabin, leading to suspicions of foul play.
The Donner Party’s story is a tragic example of the risks of westward expansion. Today, Donner Lake is accessible by railway. While traces of the tragedy are faint, crosses mark significant sites.
The railway climbs the Sierra slopes, and a modern highway runs by the lake. An Iowa farmer and his family, traveling by car from Los Angeles, crossed the Sierras and headed east over the emigrant trail.
The family’s journey highlighted the transformation of the frontier. Their wheels followed the path of the early emigrant wagons. The passing of that frontier marked the end of an era.
Pathways to the West is a chronicle of American ambition and resilience, forever intertwined with the landscapes they traversed.