The antique baby cradle stands in a place of prominence. It
serves as the focus of a tradition honoring Margaret Breen, the
matriarch of one of South Valley’s most esteemed pioneer
families.
The antique baby cradle stands in a place of prominence. It serves as the focus of a tradition honoring Margaret Breen, the matriarch of one of South Valley’s most esteemed pioneer families.
Margaret was a woman who refused to give up. Her story is relevant today for two reasons. The first is because March is Women’s History Month. And Margaret played an important part in the history of our region. The second is because it’s St. Patrick’s Day. Her history highlights the importance of Irish immigration to California in the turbulent 1840s.
Born Margaret Bulger in Ireland in 1810, she emigrated to Toronto, Canada, in 1828. There she married Patrick Breen, a man almost 20 years her senior. Both hailed from County Carlow in Ireland, so most likely the couple first met there.
It’s uncertain why the two left their home country. Patrick had owned an iron foundry in Ireland that burned down during the religious troubles. I suppose, like many European immigrants, the two devote Catholics saw opportunity for peace and prosperity in the New World.
In Canada, Margaret gave birth to sons John and Edward. The family then moved on to Keokuk, Iowa, where four more sons and a daughter named Isabella were born.
Michael Murry, Patrick’s cousin, sent a letter from Mexico-controlled California boasting of its bounty and religious freedom. It prompted the Breens to head for this promised land. That’s how, in 1846 in Independence, Mo., the family joined a group of American travelers heading west. Margaret could never have imagined the horror ahead.
Trapped in the Sierras by an early winter blizzard, the Breens and other settlers of the Donner Party were forced to hunker down for 111 days. At what was called Truckee Lake (now Donner Lake), the family found shelter in a cabin built two winters before by the Townsend-Stephens-Murphy party.
Margaret witnessed her fellow travelers die from cold and starvation. Patrick himself became sick, putting more burden on Margaret in caring for the children – including their nursing baby girl.
When food ran low and others dug up the dead for the flesh, the determined mother decided her family would not resort to cannibalism to survive. Somehow, she obtained food – even if it meant killing the family dog for meat.
Of the 90 people in the Donner Party caught in the mountains, 42 died. But thanks to Margaret’s determination, not one Breen was among the victims. Survivors of the tragedy also credit the savvy woman for saving many of the Donner Party orphans.
After their rescue, the Breen family wandered through California for about a year. They found their way to the Mission San Juan Bautista, where Padre Antonio Anzar gave them shelter in a store room.
Anzar told the Mexican General Jose Antonio Castro of the family’s plight. Touched by their story, the military man gave the Breens free use of his unused adobe military headquarters on the mission plaza. You can imagine Margaret’s beaming smile when she first set foot in Castro’s large and comfortable house – a home at last.
In 1848, news of the gold discovery spread across California. Margaret’s 16-year-old son John ambitiously joined two prospectors heading to the Sierras. Surely, you must imagine, Margaret worried intensely about her teenage boy heading back to that place where the Breens had suffered such misery.
Months passed, and the boy came back with $10,000 in gold. It seemed like winning the Irish lottery for the destitute family. They used the money to purchase Castro’s adobe and about 400 acres of San Juan Valley farmland.
For a short time, Margaret and Patrick turned their home into a hotel – patriotically calling it The United States Inn. Here in the early 1850s, they hosted many California travelers – including William Tecumseh Sherman, later famous as a Civil War general.
Through the next two decades, Margaret and Patrick Breen and their kids became prominent residents of California. Margaret watched her children grow up and get married. Son James graduated from Santa Clara College to become a district attorney and, later, a judge in San Benito County.
Grief struck the family when Patrick died Dec. 21, 1868. In the Victorian tradition, Margaret turned her adobe home’s bedroom into her “mourning room.” That same year, she buried son Peter who drowned while crossing the Pajaro River.
Early in 1874, Margaret’s youngest son William died of fever. According to historian Majorie Pierce in her book “East of the Gabilans,” for Margaret “the winter at Donner Summit was easier than having to give up her sons.”
On April 13, 1874, in her adobe home overlooking the mission plaza, the pioneer woman died.
Unfortunately, after her death, untrue charges of her participation in Donner Party cannibalism haunted Margaret. Perhaps Victorian contemporaries saw her leadership in the Sierras as “unseemly.” Women were simply not supposed to take charge during an emergency.
But the results at Donner Lake that tragic winter speak for themselves. While 42 others died, Margaret’s firm resolve made sure her entire family survived.
And as a testament to her humanity, she also cared for the children of the deceased. One of them, Virginia Reed, remembers Margaret as a warm, caring person who used common sense.
Many of Margaret and Patrick Breen’s descendants continue to live in the South Valley. They hold Margaret in a special place in their hearts.
Last Friday, many attended a ceremony marking the grand re-opening of the newly renovated Castro-Breen Adobe. During a guided tour, the state park docent pointed to an antique cradle in Margaret’s upstairs mourning room. It’s been in the Breen family for generations, he said. Breens still occasionally come here to place newborn babies in the cradle for a photo op.
The ritual connects the past with the present. It’s a lovely family tradition.
Maybe, I imagined, Margaret’s spirit watches over the little child in the cradle and blesses the baby. Maybe the gentle Irish soul of a woman who refused to give up continues to linger nearby.
