CHAPTER XXXVIII

WAR AND RUMORS OF WAR—­MARRIAGE—­SONOMA REVISITED.

The Summer of 1861, now well advanced, was rife with war and rumors of war, and foreshadowings of coming events.  The old and the young were flushed with patriotism, each eager to help his country’s cause.  I, remembering grandma’s training, was ready to give my services to hospital work.  Earnest as was this desire, however, I was dissuaded from taking definite steps in that direction by those who knew that my slender physique and girlish appearance would defeat my purpose before the board of appointing physicians.  Moreover, Mr. Houghton’s visits and frequent letters were changing my earlier plans for the future, and finally led to my naming the tenth of October, 1861, as our wedding day.

The ceremony was solemnized by the Rev. J.A.  Benton, of Sacramento.  The event is also noteworthy as being the occasion of the first reunion of the five Donner sisters since their parting at Sutter’s Fort in June, 1847.  Georgia’s place was by my side, while Elitha, Leanna, and Frances each grouped with husband and children in front among friends, who had come to witness the plighting of vows between my hero and me.  Not until I had donned my travelling suit, and my little white Swiss wedding dress was being packed, did I fully realize that the days of inseparable companionship between Georgia and me were past; She had long been assured that in my new home a welcome would be ever ready for her, yet she had thoughtfully answered, “No, I am not needed there, and I feel that I am needed here.”

Nature’s wedding gift to us was a week of glorious weather, and its first five days we passed in San Francisco, the bustling, historic city, which I knew so well, yet had never seen before.  Then we boarded the afternoon boat up the bay, expecting to spend the evening and following morning in Sonoma with Grandpa and Grandma Brunner, but the vessel failed to reach Lakeside Landing in time to connect with the northbound coach.  This mischance necessitated our staying overnight at the only hostelry in the place.

The cry, “All aboard for Sonoma!” hurried us from the table next morning, and on reaching the sidewalk, we learned that the proprietor of the hotel had bespoken the two best seats in the coach for us.

I was too happy to talk until after we crossed the Sonoma River, shaded by grand old oak, sycamore, and laurel trees, and then onward, I was too happy to remain silent.  Before us lay the valley which brought back memories of my childhood, and I was in a mood to recall only the brightest, as we sped on to our destination.  My companion shared my delight and gave heed to each scene I called to his attention.