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MEMOIRS OF ELEANOR HOWARD (THOMAS) BRITTAIN KNOWLTON
November 1834 – August 1908

First Indians seemed “peaceable enough. Lead oxen bolts, wagon starts to sink in the Platt River. Saved by “five Yankee boys.” Mr. Brittain goes in search of cattle taken by Indians. Ellen is assisted by a fellow Mason. Grass for cows is scarce.

Crossing the Platt River

You will be surprised when I tell you that when we got there, there were hundreds of emigrants waiting there to cross their loose cattle and wagons over the river and so mine were the last to cross. Our men had to herd our cattle and I was left alone quite awhile with my two little girls. There were a great many Indians who seemed peaceable enough but I felt a little nervous as I had not been used to seeing so many. However I struck up a little barter with them. I gave them all the surplus clothes and when my husband and the men came to cross our train over I had quite a supply of beads and moccasins. I knew better than to give our food away. They hardly gave me time to gather up my Indian goods and get into the wagon before they started crossing. Our oxen became unruly and a key lost out of the yoke. The lead oxen turn round and got off the channel and the wagon I was in began to sink, while the driver was getting the other oxen yoked. He handed me the yoke and my husband pled with him not to let me and the children drown. Mr. Brittain had ridden in as soon as he could to help get the wagon up. It was lying on its side. His horse got into quicksand and it fell on him and he was hurt. In the meantime I had tied both of my children hard and fast to me and took the iron rod out of the shot gun and started to whip the wheel oxen to make them pull, but the driver could not move them.

We had five Yankee boys in the train and they came running to our assistance. They waded into the water and quicksand up to their arm pits and threw ropes over the wagon and pulled it up on the wheels. The driver then drove out. Our clothes and some keepsakes were spoiled but I did not care as I expected to throw them away before we reached California. You should have heard the emigrants shouting when the children and I got on dry ground and except for those Yankee boys we wouldn’t have gotten there. My husband had eight gallons of old rye whiskey when we had brought along in case of sickness. He called to the Yankees and told them to help themselves and then the emigrants to all come and have a taste. I say a taste for eight gallons did not go far with all that crowd. Being a southerner I never had much love for Yankees, feeling that they were our enemies but that day I can tell you that I did away with my prejudice and I have liked them ever since. Those boys had started from Connecticut, got out on the plains between Kansas and Nebraska and were robbed of their provisions. That is how we happened to let them join our train and they certainly proved their appreciation. That night we had a terrific storm. The rain just poured down and the thunder and lightening was fearful. Our tent blew over and those boys were the first to help fix it. I have been in many storms in Tennessee, but that was the hardest storm I had ever experienced. Our hired men were all from Missouri and could not milk, so I had been doing the milking. The cows were so wild that they had to be tied hard and fast so that I could manage it. Some were so wild that we had to kill the little calves and let the milk dry up. We always had plenty to use and often the can which we put it in would have quite a lump of butter in it, churned by the jolting of the wagon. Well, after those Connecticut boys joined our train I no longer had to the milking for they did it all.

We traveled up the Platt River until we came to Fort Kerney (sic). Camped there and had several of our cattle stolen or run off by the Indians. When we started the next morning Mr. Brittain and one of the hired men went back and hiding the best that they could hoping that they might see the cattle being brought to the fort if they had been stolen. They never saw the cattle. When he left my husband told me he would join us some time that night and for us not to go far from the road side as it was very dark and he might pass us by. When Mr. Brittain did not come that night there was one of our party got scared and said he would not wait for him. I told him I would not go any farther than three miles we had to go for grass. We had one or two belled cows and we thought they could hear the bells. We had to drive further than we had expected to as the grass was scarce and the cattle were tired.

My husband had not come by nine o’clock the next morning. He had not only passed us but several other trains and they told him we had not passed them so he turned back again. The man who said he would not wait for him got ready to leave us. He had his wife and two children a little boy and a young daughter. He had eight head of milk cows with a man to drive them and a two horse wagon. We were camped on Sweetwater, I think as we had passed Fort Laramie and are now in Wyoming. This man crossed his cows over and came back to get his wagon. He was in such a hurry to get away that he did not notice his little boy under the wagon, drove over him, and broke one of his arms. He wife said it was a judgement on him for leaving me in distress. They had no medicines or bandages so as I had both I did what I could for the child. Then Mr. Dunn wanted to stay with us but I told him he should never come into our train again. I never heard of them after that. My brother said they were ahead of us as he had seen Sarah’s footsteps. She always went barefoot.

After they had gone we could not move until we got some help, unless I could drive. I had never driven oxen and again said I would not move until my husband came unless some other train comes. Finally I saw a drove of sheep coming. All of the men excepting my brother were with the cattle. I told him to look after my children and I would go over and ask the herders if they had seen two men on horseback. The man said they had passed their train that night. I saw a man on horseback quite a distance away too far to speak to him, so I gave him a sign which brought him to me immediately. He said sheep and cattle do not mix but that he would cross the sheep over the river and then stay with me until my husband came.

We had a talk and found out my father had assisted him in buying his sheep. Mr. Murray From Green Co., Missouri and my father were both Masons and as soon as he answered my sign I felt easy again. I had the daughter degree in Masonry. Father had told him I was on the plains going to California and to be on the lookout for me. My husband got back all right and we got started again that evening. We bade Mr. Murray good bye, not expecting to see him again as we could travel faster than he could.

Next: Gublet’s cutoff, quicksand, and gravesites

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Crossing the Plains from Missouri to Nevada in 1857, May 21, 2024

Eleanor Knowlton’s Memoirs: On to Missouri, May 25, 2024

Eleanor Knowlton’s Memoirs: Setting Out, May 27, 2024