The True Story of the Sagers

Catherine Sager Pringle, Elizabeth Sager Helm, and Matilda Sager Delaney.
Taken at the 50th anniversary commemoration, November 1897.
(Photo identified by family members and historians.)

There have been several fictional stories and books written about the Sager family. These fictional accounts generally have been accepted as truth. The following is a brief factual account of the Sager story.

In the spring of 1844, Henry Sager packed his family and goods aboard a covered wagon and headed for the fabled land of Oregon. The Sager wagon joined the others of the emigrant train of that year and slowly the caravan pushed westward from Missouri. Mrs. Sager, already the mother of six youngsters and expecting her seventh, was not at all excited about going to the far West. She had already moved from Virginia to Ohio, then to Indiana, then to Missouri, in order to please her restless husband. Now she dreaded the thought of crossing the Rockies and making the long hazardous trip to the Pacific.

At the outset, the daily routine of breaking camp and moving the wagons into line was quickly established. But just as quickly, the Sager family was beset with difficult problems. Soon after starting out, Mrs. Sager presented her husband with a baby girl. While the mother was still regaining her strength, disaster fell upon nine year old Catherine, the oldest of the girls.

At Fort Laramie, Catherine caught her dress on an axe handle when she started to climb out of the moving wagon. She fell under the big moving wheels and her leg was broken in several places. Mr. Sager set Catherine's leg and did such a good job that Catherine had only a slight limp after it healed.

For the moment, however, the wagon box must have resembled an ambulance, with Mrs. Sager, the new baby, and Catherine all suffering from the jolts and bumps of the trail.

Yet, Catherine's accident had one good result. It brought Dr. Dagon into the lives of the Sagers. Dr. Dagon arrived after the leg had been set and checked the break. His help was to become even more important as the wagons moved westward. By the time the emigrants reached South Pass, the gateway through the Rocky Mountains, Henry Sager was seriously ill with fever. His health steadily grew worse despite Dr. Dagon's treatment. By the time the old fur rendezvous of Green River was reached, the Sagers sorrowfully buried their father's body beside the stream.

The train had gone too far west for the Sagers to consider turning back to Missouri. Despite the fears of the unknown future, it was easier for the family to go on with the rest of the wagons. Mrs. Sager, not yet fully recovered from child birth and mourning her departed husband, now had all the respon-sibility for the seven children. She was not alone, however, because Captain William Shaw, who was the leader of that section of the wagon train, and Dr. Dagon made sure that the family was cared for. The doctor climbed into the wagon seat and drove the oxen the rest of the way to Oregon.

Slowly, the wagons lumbered along the Snake River and slowly, too, Mrs. Sager sank beneath the cares and sicknesses that hung on her. Overcome by illness, despair, and grief, she was not able to regain her health. She finally became delirious, and as Catherine sadly wrote, "at times perfectly insane." In the vicinity of present day Twin Falls, Idaho, Mrs. Sager said good bye to her children. She asked Dr. Dagon to take care of the orphans until they were safely in the hands of Dr. Marcus Whitman, the well known missionary in the Walla Walla Valley of what is now south-eastern Washington. Sorrowfully, the emigrants buried Mrs. Sager's body. The grief stricken children numbly climbed into the wagon, and Dr. Dagon guided the oxen toward the setting sun. The two boys, John 13 and Francisco 12, were old enough to take care of themselves. But the five girls, Catherine 9, Elizabeth 7, Matilda 5, Hannah Louise 3, and the new baby, needed the care of adults. Despite large families of their own, the women of the wagon train opened their hearts to the orphans and spared what time they could in taking care of the little girls. Several women on the train nursed the baby, so that it survived the weeks that lay ahead of them. This was only the second year that emigrants had taken their wagons all the way to the Columbia. Dr. Dagon, although he immensely enjoyed driving the wagon which had by now been reduced to a two-wheeled cart, was not particularly skilled in driving oxen over the treacherous trail of the lower Snake River. Perched on top of the cart, he urged the oxen on by swearing loudly when he thought that would help. The girls, crowded behind him, had been taught by their parents that swearing was not proper. Everytime the doctor uttered an oath, one of the girls would promptly kick him in the broad seat of his trousers to remind him of their presence.

In late October, 1844, the cart pulled into the yard of the Whitman Mission at Waiilatpu. Captain Shaw, who had ridden on ahead to alert the missionaries asked Mrs. Whitman to come outside and see her new children. When Narcissa Whitman ran out to greet the dirty, barefoot orphans, her eyes saw a pitiful sight. Dr. Dagon, his work of father and mother now ended, stood to one side of the cart. Emotion showed strongly on his face as Narcissa murmured soft words of compassion for the ragged, little girls. The two boys, overcome by weariness and relief, began to sob. Catherine, with her crippled leg, also broke into tears, and the smaller children stood dumbfounded and afraid, not knowing what would happen next.

The seven orphans had found a new home. Years later, the three oldest girls were to recall many times the loving care of the Whitmans. They were to remember too, that their survival through the wilderness was due largely to the unselfishness of Captain Shaw, Dr. Dagon, and the unnamed pioneer woman. Years later, Catherine wrote, "We were all taken care of by the company. There was not one but that would share their bread with us."

In July of the next year, Dr. Whitman obtained a court order in Oregon Territory which gave him legal custody of the children "until further arrangements could be made." But for all practical purposes, the Whitmans had found seven children and the Sager orphans had found a father and mother.

Three years after their arrival, in 1847, the Sager children again were orphaned when Marcus and Narcissa Whitman lost their lives when the Cayuse attacked the mission. The two Sager boys, John and Francisco, were also killed. While a captive of the Indians, little Hannah Louise died from sickness. The four surviving girls, after their ransom from the Indians by the Hudson's Bay Company, were moved to the Wilamette Valley in western Oregon where the American settlements were centered.

Years later, the three older girls, Catherine, Elizabeth, and Matilda, were to write and speak often of the trip westward and the events at Waiilatpu. They gave high praise to Captain Shaw, the wagon master; Dr. Dagon, who had befriended them; the emigrant women; and, of course, Dr. Marcus Whitman and his wife, Narcissa.

Appraisal of the estate of Henry Sager delivered to Marcus Whitman by Wm. Shaw on the 6th of Nov. 1844

3 yoke of oxen at @50 per yoke---------150.00
The fore wheels of one wagon------------13.00
One cow----------------------------------------37.50
One odd steer---------------------------------29.00
One cow (excluding five dollars expended
in procuring her from the Indians)-------20.00
3 chains and two yokes--------------------10.00
1 ax------------------------------------------------2.00
1 screw plate------------------------------------3.00

Total------------------------------------------262.50 (sic)

June 25, 1845

Benjamin Nichols
Solomon Eads
Com. B. Magruder

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