Children of the Trail

Crude rock markers and wooden crosses dot the various trails used by settlers heading west in the mid-1800s. A significant number of those markers indicate the final resting places of children. The trek across the frontier was filled with peril. Violence, disease and accidents claimed the lives of thousands of infants and toddlers. So uncertain were some pioneers of the longevity of their offspring born en route, they held off named their babies until they were two-years-old. The leading causes of death for children younger than age six traveling overland were cholera, meningitis, and smallpox. A number of children suffered fatal injuries when they fell under wagon wheels, fell into campfires, fell down steep canyons, or drowned in river crossings. In 1852, a family from Kentucky who were caught up in the gold rush barely made it out of Independence, Missouri, when their four-year-old died from meningitis. The leaders of the wagon train they were a part of stopped the caravan, and the men in the party cut down a medium-size oak tree to use as a casket for the girl. The girl’s body was laid in the shell, and the wooden slab was placed over it and nailed down. They dug a grave alongside the trail, lowered the crude casket, read a few words from the Bible, and prayed over the plot. After the grave was filled in, they flattened it by driving the wagons back and forth over the fresh earth. Pioneers believed this action kept wild animals from digging up the area. When the trip resumed the mother of the deceased child stood in the rear of the wagon, staring back at the spot where they had left her daughter. She continued staring at the spot hours after the grave was out of sight. An emigrant mother who lost her four-month-old child on the way to the fertile land of Oregon recorded a bit of the heartbreaking ordeal in her journal. In April 1852, Suzanna Townsend wrote, “we did feel very happy with her all the time she was with us and it was hard to part with her.” The journey across the rugged plains was so treacherous and risky some political leaders suggested only men should make the trip. In 1843, Horace Greeley wrote, “It is palpable homicide to tempt or send women and children over the thousand miles of precipice and volcanic sterility to Oregon.” Centuries-old cemeteries throughout the West are filled with small burial sites. More than one-third of the graves in the historic St. Patrick’s Cemetery in Grass Valley, California, represents children who have long since been gone. As in many gold-mining-camp cemeteries, marble cherubs are the most common overseers of the graves. Sculptured lambs representing innocence were also frequently used. The stories of the many lives that ended before they had a chance to make their mark on the frontier are lost forever. Only by their weathered tombstones are we able to know the tale of sacrifice to settle a new land.