from an Ancestry database Death Valley, California in 1849 Was 10 SHANNON hits, but all seem to be of a Tom SHANNON Moving with his family from Vermont to Michigan in 1828, William Manly set out for California in 1849 in search of gold. This database is his account of the journey west and life in the territory. It provides detailed descriptions of the Sierra Mountains of California, Stockton, Sacramento, and Death Valley. Researchers will find helpful information regarding the Mariposa mines and prospecting on the North Fork of the Yuba River. For those seeking to better understand the life of a typical prospector in California, this can be an interesting and informative narrative. Bibliography: Library of Congress. California As I Saw It: First-Person Narratives of California's Early Years. Vol. 107. [database on-line] Washington: Library of Congress, 1999. Manly, William Lewis. Death Valley in '49. San Jose, CA: Pacific Tree and Vine Co., 1894. Death Valley in '49. CONTENTS. Story of the Jayhawkers.--Ceremonies of Initiation--Rev. J. W. Brier.--His Wife the best Man of the Two.--Story of the Road across Death Valley.--Burning the Wagons--Narrow Escape of Tom Shannon--Capt. Ed Doty was Brave and True--They reach the Sea by way of Santa Clara River--Capt. Haynes before the Alcalde--List of Jayhawkers 319-366 - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER X. page 160 We decided to get our guns at full cock and then hail the camp, feeling that we had a little the advantage of position. We hailed and were answered in English. "Don't Shoot" said we and they assured us they had no idea of such a thing, and asked us to come in. We found here to our surprise, Ed Doty, Tom Shannon, L. D. Stevens, and others whom I do not recollect, the real Jayhawkers. They gave us some fresh meat for supper, and near the camp were some water holes that answered well for camp purposes. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 348 Their water was all gone, every drop, and still the foot-hills seemed far away. The supply of meat ran out. Tom Shannon killed an ox, and when those who had cattle had taken some, the others who had none were told to divide the rest. There was no water to dress or cook it, but it helped to sustain life. Entrails, bones, sinews, bits of hide and everything was used. One man was seen with an ox horn, burning the end in the fire and gnawing away at the softened portion. It was something terrible to see human beings eating what the dogs would cast aside. One man saw some moist looking earth on the shady side of a bunch of brush and he dug down and got a handful of it, from which he tried to suck the moisture. He failed, and the bad taste of the earth made him suffer more than before. Many bones of horses and cattle now appeared along the trail. They seemed to have been there a long time, and some were partly decayed. On this waterless stretch one of their number, a Frenchman, wandered off, searching for water in little hollows or puddles, and never came back to camp. He was supposed to be dead, but ten years afterward some surveyors found him in a Digger Indian camp. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 352 Tom Shannon and a companion were one of these [p.351] pairs. Tom was one of the few who still stuck to his gun, for he felt that it might save his life sometime. He and his companion separated about a mile, each looking at all points that showed the least sign of water. Suddenly a jack rabbit started from a bush, the first game Shannon had seen for more than a month. He pulled the rifle on him as he was making some big bound and had the good luck to nearly split his head open. Rushing up to his game he put his mouth to the wound and sucked the warm blood as it flowed, for it was the first liquid he had seen; but instead of allaying his fearful thirst it seemed to make it worse and he seemed delirious. A little way up the gulch he saw a rock and a green bush and steered for it, but found no water. He sat down with his back to the rock, his rifle leaning up near by, pulled his old worn hat over his eyes, and suffered an agony of sickness. He realized that life was leaving his body, and there he sat with no power to move and no desire to make an effort. It seemed as if he could see plain before him all the trail from where he sat, back over all the deserts, mountains and rivers to the old place in Illinois. He entirely forgot the present, and seemed unconscious of everything but the pictures of the past. The mind seemed growing freer from its attachment to the body and at liberty to take in his whole past life, and bright scenes that had gone before. How long he sat thus he knows not. His companion was fortunate in finding water, and when he had refreshed himself he set out to find poor Tom of whom he could see nothing. Going toward where he heard the shot he followed on till he saw him at the rock, almost doubled up, with his face concealed by his hat. "O! Tom!" said he, but there came no answering motion, and going nearer he called again and still no answer and no sign. Poor Tom had surely passed on to the [p.352] better land, thought he and salvation was so near. He approached and lifted the hat rim. There was a movement of the eyes, a quivering of the muscles of the face, and a sort of semi-unconscious stare such as precedes approaching dissolution. - --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 354 "If you had been a little longer finding me," said Tom, "I should soon have been out of this sad world." They fired a signal gun, looked down at the bones of the rabbit, drank more water, and gradually felt new life coming to them. The mountains seemed more fertile, and there was brush and grass near by, timber farther up, and still higher a cap of snow extending far along the range, both north and south. Towards night on this eventful day the scattered travelers began to come slowly into camp attracted by the guns and the smoke of the fire made by those who first found the water. Some were nearly as far gone as Tom Shannon was, and great caution had to used in giving them water on their empty stomach. One man named Robinson became so weak before he got near camp that his companions placed him on the back of one of the animals and a man walked on either side to catch him if he fell off. When they got within a mile of the water he insisted that he was strong enough to [p.353] take care of himself and not be watched every minute, and they relaxed their vigilance. He soon fell off, and when they went to him he refused to be put back on the animal again or to walk any farther. "Just spread my blankets down," said he, "and I will lie down and rest a little and after a while I will come along into camp." So they left him and pushed on to water, and when they were a little refreshed went back to him with water, and to help him to come in, but when they came to him they found him dead. He did not seem to have moved after he had lain down. He did not seem so bad off as Shannon was when he lay down, and probably a few swallows of water at that time would have saved his life. It seemed sad indeed, after so much suffering and striving to get along, that he should die within a mile of water that would have saved his life. If he had posessed a little more strength so that the spark of life could have remained a little longer, the cooling moisture trom the canteen would have revived it, and a little rest would have placed him on his feet again. They had no tools to dig a grave, not even a knife for they had left every weight in camp, so they covered him closely in his blankets and sadly returned to their friends. They had all along hoped that the Frenchman who had wandered away would come in, but he never came. There were several water holes scattered around at this point which seemed to be a sort of sunken place in the hills, and quite large brush could be obtained for fire, and grass for the oxen. Those who had been good hunters and had thrown away their rifles as useless burdens, now began to look at hills before them and think that game might be found in them, as well as water. There were only one or two guns in the whole party, They thought that this must surely be the edge of the great desert they had crossed, and only the snow [p.354] range before them could be the obstacle that separated them from Los Angeles. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 355 Starting from the water holes which showed no signs of having been used for several years, their next camp was, as they had calculated, on the edge of the snow where they found plenty of dry juniper trees for fire, and of course plenty of water. Here they killed an ox and fed the hungry so that they were pretty well refreshed. This was an elevated place and they could look back over the trail across the desert for, what seemed to them, a hundred miles, and the great dangers of their journey were discussed. Said one of them to Tom Shannon:--"Tom, you killed the first game we have come across in two months. Even the buzzards and coyotes knew better than to go out into the country where the cursed Mormon saint sent us numbskulls." Another said that while they had been seeking a heaven on earth they had passed through purgatory, or perhaps a worse place still nearer the [p.355] one from which sulphurous fumes arise, and now they hoped that there might be a somewhat more heavenly place beyond the snow. One who had been silent seemed awakened by inspiration and spoke in impromptu lines somewhat as follows, as he pointed out to the dim distance:-- - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 357 Capt. Doty, Tom Shannon and Bill Rude sat down to rest on a bold point above the creek. While there three wild horses came along within easy range, and thinking they would form better meat than the oxen each man picked his animal and all fired simultaneously, bringing them all to the ground. This seemed a piece of glorious luck, and all rushed in like wolves after a wounded animal. It was not very long before each had a chunk of meat in his hand, and many a one did not stop from eating because it was not cooked. Such declared they never ate anything so delicious in all their lives before, and wondered why horses were not used as food instead of hogs and cattle. As they satisfied their ravenous apetites they ate more like beasts than like men, so nearly were they starved, and so nearly had their starving condition made them fall from their lofty estate. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 358 The can�on grew narrow as they descended, and the brush thicker, so that to follow the bed of the stream was the only way to get along. The cattle seemed to scent a bear and stampeded in terror through the brush in various directions, all except one which was being led by a rope. They tried to follow the animals in a desperate effort to recover them and a few blankets they had upon their backs, but could only make slow progress. Tom Shannon and two others found a fresh bear track and determined to follow it awhile in the hope of having revenge on the cause of their mishap with the oxen. They took their blankets and kept the trail till night when they camped, but were at so great an elevation that a snowstorm came with six inches of snow so they could no longer follow the track. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 360 Tom Shannon and a couple of others did not wait [p.360] long at any rate, but crawled down the creek bed till they were opposite a few fine animals and then crept up the bank very near to them. Two or three shots rang out and as many fine cattle were brought down. The live cattle ran away and the hungry men soon had the field to themselves. Much quicker than can be told the men had fat pieces of meat in their hands which they devoured without cooking. The men acted like crazy creatures at a barbacue--each one cut for himself with very little respect for anyone. The boldest got in first and the more retiring came in later, but all had enough and gradually resumed more human actions and appearance. - ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Death Valley in '49. CHAPTER XIII. page 364 The following named were living, so far as known, in 1893:--John B. Colton and Alonzo C. Clay, of Galesburg, III., Luther A. Richards, of Woodhull, Ill., Chas. B. Mecum, of Ripley, Iowa, John W. Plummer, of Tulon, Ill., Edward Bartholomew, Urban P. Davidson, John Crosscup and L. Dow Stephens, of San Jose, California, Harrison Frans and Thomas Shannon, of Los Gatos, Cal., J. W. Brier and wife, Lodi, Cal., three children of Mr. Brier.