Another installment of the…

MEMOIRS OF MY GREAT-GREAT GRANDMOTHER,
ELEANOR HOWARD (THOMAS) BRITTAIN KNOWLTON
November 1834 – August 1908

It’s April, and Eleanor has to travel over the Sierra to Nevada despite the threat of snow. She has an emotional visit to her old home for the last time before it is sold. Finding a single white hair unnerves her. She has a new set of teeth made in Carson City, which leave her mouth swollen and painful. Then by stagecoach back to California. It snows, and a gentleman offers to join him under his blanket.

Well, we are now at my friend Young’s. He and Mr. Brittain soon became good friends, and they soon planned a trip for Mr. Young and me to take to Nevada. Mr. Young had business in Reno, and I in Carson City, which I would soon have to go and attend to, so Mr. Brittain and the three little girls stopped at Mr. Young’s.

Mrs. Young was a nice lady, had one son at home, and a married daughter who lived near there. The daughter married Gabe Norfleed; he and Mr. Brittain went to the high school together in Springfield, Missouri, and he had worked two or three years for us in Nevada, which caused us to feel more friendly to Mr. Young’s family.

Mr. Young and I lost no time in getting off on our trip. He was going to go aboard his tram and said it would not cost me anything, only my meals. Well, anyone who had never been over the Sierras might think we would have a nice trip. It being in April, I knew we would have lots of snow to go through, but the roads were kept open for the stages. I expected we would have a snowstorm, but I said nothing as I had been through such storms in earlier days and got out with only frozen feet and being so stiff from cold I could not walk, and supposed I should get through all right this trip.

Well, we are ready to start with orders from Mrs. Young and Mr. Brittain to return as soon as we could. We bid all good-bye. We had a fine span of horses and a nice strong buggy. We are now in Placerville, will spend the night, and then make an early start over the Sierra Mountain, which takes about three days.

We are now at Strawberry Valley; it is snowing a little. We are now going to start on the downgrade of the mountain; the stage is ahead of us, and the snow is being scraped from the grade, so we will have no trouble. We are now going down Van Sickles Grade into Carson Valley; will stay all night at Van Sickles’ Hotel, which is in Genoa; he is an old friend of mine; he received us cordially, had nice rooms, good supper, and breakfast free of charge. My friend, Mr. Young, thought it was nice to be remembered by an old friend of such a long standing as 1857 and the hospitality he had shown us.

The next morning, Mr. VanSickle and I had a long talk. He and his wife had separated, and she had since died, leaving him with his three children: two girls and a son. He was a wealthy man since the time I stayed all night there. He came to San Jose to live and educate his children, married the second time, and had a nice home in Capitolia .

We are now in Carson City and will stop at the Penrod Hotel. Mr. Young will go on to Reno to attend to his business, and I will not see him again as I will be in a hurry to get through my business and get back to California, as the spring weather is the best time to travel north. I bid him good-bye and told him we would have to obey orders and make a quick trip. Now I am at my old home, which I have regretted so often that I had to leave, and now this is to be my last time to be in it as I will sell it and everything to a man by the name of Lewis.

I am now in my bedroom arranging my hair. I had been weeping as all my fond reminiscences of a once happy home and many dear friends, some who had returned to this city and others who had moved away. I also grinned at the reverse of fortune.

I was spending too much time in meditation and hurried to the task of arranging my hair. I was standing in front of my mirror, which stood where I had left it, and to my surprise, I saw a long white hair in plain view on the front of my head. I pulled it out, threw it down, put my foot on it, and resolved I would not give in for the reverse of fortune again and I went back to Mr. Wagoner’s and had him go to my house with me and gave him all my garden tools.

I had one of the nicest gardens in Carson City and a good supply of tools locked up in my storm cellar. The place I rented to a man by the name of Fox, he had just married when I started to travel. I was well acquainted with them. They had taken good care of everything. The next thing I did was to go to see Mr. Sharp, the dentist, who owed me for making a set of teeth. I told him I wanted him to make them as soon as he could as I had left Mr. Brittain and my little girls in California and must return as soon as I could as he was sick. Well, he took the impression of my mouth and said he would have the teeth in a few days.

There was a dressmaker who owed me for making a dress which she did not get made before I started to travel with Mr. Brittain. I bought a dress pattern; she said she would make it. The next thing was to collect some money which different persons owed us. Then, last of all, to let Judge Lewis have my home.

Then I went to see my brother’s and little son’s graves and had some repairs done on them. I was through all my business in about ten days and did not lose any time in taking the stage for California. It was about the middle of April. There were three gentlemen, Miss Babock and myself, on the stage when it pulled out of Carson City.

The first day we had quite a nice drive. We stayed all night at the Slipy Ford House. Hanson, who kept the stand, owed me quite a bill for provisions Mr. Brittain had furnished him when he was freighting over the mountains. I found that night he would not pay me anything; he said he had no money. So, the next morning while waiting for breakfast, I spoke to the stage passengers not to pay their night’s bill until I was present. I wanted to have Hanson give me their fair, so when he came round to collect, I was the first to settle. I told him I would first give him credit on his note. I held against him, and I said, “You will confer a favor on me by allowing the rest of the passengers to give me theirs. I will also give you credit for theirs.” He consented, and I credited his note for the small amount. I renewed the claim I had on him. But he went bankrupt and that was the last I saw of him.

My night’s bill was no gain of mine, and he lost no food as I had just had a new set of teeth made in Carson City, which was so tight that my mouth was so swollen I could not take them out. Consequently, I could not eat. I got several dollars from the passengers as meals were high. Also, lodging.

Well, we all soon got on the stage, anticipating a cold drive through a snowstorm. We are all prepared for any emergency. The day is passing very nicely. Mr. Cothington and Miss Babcock occupy the back seat. Mr. Page and I are in the middle, while an old gentleman sits alone in the front seat. I was personally acquainted with Miss Babcock and Cothington while living in Carson. Mr. Page and the old gentleman were strangers. Mr. Page and I soon entered into quite an interesting conversation, which the rest soon joined. The subject of age came up. All wanted to know who was the oldest, so I was said to be the one. Mr. Page told his age, and to my surprise, he was born the same year, month, and day that I was. The old gentleman was the oldest. Miss Babcock and Cothington were no spring chickens.

We are now at the summit of the Sierra mountains. It is snowing some and very cold, and we are getting all our wraps around us to keep from freezing. Really, I was not worrying about the cold as much as I was about getting my teeth out so I could eat. I discovered that Mr. Cothington had let Miss Babcock share his blanket with him. As they were encircled in it, they seemed to be as snug as a bug in a rug.

Mr. Page soon got his blanket out and asked me to share part of his. I kindly thanked him for his kindness. But told him I would rather endure the cold. The old gentleman who sat on the front seat was very quiet but was taking all our actions in. He was from Vermont, seemed to be a well-informed man. Well, we are safely landed at Placerville and will get breakfast here. Mr. Page politely helped me off the stage and when breakfast was announced I did not prepare to go. The rest were all ready.

The old gentleman came to me and asked me to go with him and said he had noticed I did not eat and said if it was for scarcity of money he would pay expenses. Then I told him I had money but I could not eat on account of my false teeth. He went to his breakfast when he came to the room where I was he handed me a roll and said he had bought it for me as he was sure I could eat of it when I opened it was a can of nice fresh peaches just what I liked and I ate a few of them and I really enjoyed them.

We bid the stage driver goodbye wishing him a safe journey on his return to Carson. I don’t remember what his name was but know he was not Hank Monk. Hank was never known to have an accident. He was the first driver I knew who drove over the Sierras. Well before taking the cars I got a telegraph dispatch. Mr. Brittain was at Latrobe.

Now we are on the car en route for Latrobe. The old gentleman said he would occupy part of my seat if I had no objection. I told him he could but if my husband should meet us in Latrobe, he would have to give way for him. He said, “Certainly, I will, and I respect you for making the request. I also admire you for the remark you made last night that you preferred the cold rather than to share my blanket.”

So when we got to Diamond Springs, the cars stopped, and to my surprise, in came my husband. After greeting him, I introduced him to my friend, and he immediately offered his seat to Mr. Brittain. My husband said, “Keep your seat.” The old gentleman said, “no, I promised your wife I would give this seat up to you if we met you today.” I will take the one in front. We had quite a pleasant ride onto Latrobe. Mr. Brittain got off there, and the rest of my crowd went on to Sacramento, and that is the last I know of them. I forget my old friend’s name but shall always remember his kindness.

Mr. Brittain and I will stay all night here at Mr. James Williams’. He is one of our old-time friends, has a livery stable, and Mr. Brittain had left his horse and buggy there and came on the cars to meet me. Now we will go on to Mr. Young’s, where my little girls are.

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