Another installment of the…

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

An afternoon buggy ride goes bad, horse gets spooked and runs off. Wagon needs repair. Ellen returns for her children and gets ready to go north. Mr. Brittain fears he is dying. She drives the wagon at full speed despite obstacles to reach the doctor. She is aided a man who turns out to be an old friend of Mr. Brittain.

Mr. Brittain said he was a different man to what he was “before you came.” He was preparing to die, went out and bought a new coat to be buried in. Oh, well, I said, there is not such good luck as that for me to be left a nice young widow. I had me a nice new dress made while I was gone just for him to go out with me to get our pictures taken together, and now as he has that new coat, we will go. I am sure we will be a nice looking couple and I hope we will live to wear out these and many more.

Well, we got our photos, and now will go to Mr. Young’s, get the children, and start our trip north. Young’s place was closer to Stockton. We are almost to the Mokelumne River. I am anxious to get to it as there is a wire bridge over it which we will drive over.

About five miles from the bridge on our road to Young’s there is an old bachelor who has a hotel. We will stop there and rest and get dinner.

We are at the bachelor’s, will soon have our dinner and will not rest long, as we have several miles yet to go and I am anxious to see my children. They have had the hooping cough while I have been away.

We are now in our buggy and will have a nice afternoon drive. Our horse is a fine trotter. I am very fond of driving but Mr. Brittain is feeling so well, and wants to drive and give me a rest. He is busily engaged, talking and said he would sing me a nice song which he had learned while I was away. He was not paying any attention to his driving, let his lines go too loose, and the horse got his tail over the line and when we tried to take it off he got scared and ran away, and when we would pull on the lines to stop him he would kick terrifically. When we would let the lines loose then you ought to have seen him run.

Mr. Brittain jumped out or fell out of the buggy. I never know how. He told me to get out and when the horse began to get excited I had taken the lines and I held to them. The horse kicked the dash board off, broke one shaft, finally got loose from the buggy, ran five miles before he stopped. I don’t suppose he would have stopped then if he had not been caught at the wire bridge, the broken shaft stuck in his side. He was a fine horse, never scared before. We were offered a big price for him at Latrobe that morning. Well, my husband went back to the house where we had dinner. Went to bed he was so over done.

The old bachelor came to see what had become of me, he said he expected to find me killed or crippled. I told him, no, I was not hurt, but my husband and horse are gone, I don’t know where I am, only in the buggy and still hold the lines. Well, he said, I did well to hold them. He then helped me out of the buggy and I went back to his house with him.

In the meantime, a man brought the poor horse to us, but we got a buggy and horse from the bachelor, left ours with him. He had a blacksmith and would fix our buggy for us.

We went to our friends where the children were. Staid all night. Next morning Mr. Northrup and I took the horse and buggy back to the bachelor and got ours. Northrup did not like much to drive my horse but I drove him. Had no trouble.

Well, I found my friend, Mrs. Young and my children all well.

Mr. Young had been home a few days before I got there. The next thing will be to get ready to go north and get into the mountains.

Really I am a loss what to do, will dispose of the buggy and take the spring wagon, the

Well I found my friend Mr Young and my children all well. Mr. Young had been home a few days before I got there. The next thing will be to get ready to go north and get into the mountains. Really, I am at a loss what to do, will dispose of the buggy and take the spring wagon. The span of bays which I always work and Polly, my riding animal, I cannot do without her and there is the one Cousin Dave gave me. Well, I must keep them all. Well, I will let Mr. Millen have the buggy horse and then I can get along with the rest. Millen is an old friend, has a livery stable and says the horse is all right. He gave me a hundred and 25 dollars had offered me a hundred 75 before he got scared.

I have now got everything arranged but getting a man, and I don’t see much chance to get one here. They won’t hire for the summer unless they get a big price and then don’t know anything about hunting, and I must have a good hunter or two for the mountains as the wild game is all we have in the meat line.

Mr. Brittain is feeling very bad says we will not stay another day for anything, so we will make a start in the morning. I

It is now morning and about the 10th of May 1867. I am all ready to start. Will bid good bye to Mr. Young’s family. I now have my orders to get to Dr. Burns’ water cure in Sacramento by twelve o’clock as my husband says he will be a dead man if I fail to get him there. Mr. Northrup said I could not. I told him if the horses did not give out I could do the driving.

We are now going. My oldest daughter will ride Polly by the saddle animal, if she gets tired then I will have to tie Polly by the side of the other horses. I often do that and the other horse on the hind of the wagon. This is the way I am going. Well, I have just now got to Stockton and the wind is blowing very hard and I am driving slow through the town. Mr Brittain wants to know if my team has given out. I told him no but I have only slacked up until I get out of town. He said never mind town.

Well you ought to have seen me. I had on one of those shaker bonnets the wind was blowing in my face and I could not keep it on so I threw it off and tied a white hankerchief on my head. I managed to get out of town with out being arrested for insanity or fast driving. Thought I would not have any more trouble . But I am now on what they call a dug road and there is a team ahead of me loaded with beer kegs so I have to go slow. Mr. Brittain wanted to know what is the matter. He was laying down in the wagon and could not see. I told him a team was ahead of me I could not pass. I asked the man to let me pass but he was a dutchman and I don’t think he knew what I said as he paid no heed to what I asked.

My husband then told me to drive down the side of the road and pass the man or kill the horses in the attempt so I passed him and then I had a clear road nothing to stop me the wind was blowing very hard. The Georgetown stage driver passed me and asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to Sacramento and had to get through by twelve o’clock. He said you will shun the wind this way and won’t be more than three miles out of your way but I drove on as I was going and stopped for nothing.

People that passed me would ask me if someone was sick or dead. I told them my husband was sick and said if I did not get him to Dr. Burns water cure by twelve o’clock today he would be a dead man. Well, I am now getting close on to Sacramento just ahead of me on the roadside is a watering trough. Just as I got to it there was a man just going to water his horse. I asked him if he would please let my horses drink first he let their bridles down and asked me what my hurry was if someone was sick. I told him my husband was and I wanted to get to Dr. Burn’s watercure by twelve o’clock. He said you will kill him driving at that rate. Well as soon as the horses were through drinking, I thanked the man and left in a long trot. The road was fine.

I was not long reaching the doctors I left Mr Brittain and the children there and drove my team to a livery stable told the proprietor I wanted them well cared for they had been driven hard. When I got back to the Doctors he told me I got to his place just half past twelve. I had driven about five miles. We had dinner and went into the parlor for a rest. While resting the man who watered my horses came and enquired if a woman driving a two horse team, two loose horses, three children and a sick husband had arrived, said she had passed him on the road. The doctor told him yes, so the man came in.

As soon as he and Mr. Brittain met they recognized each other as old friends from Carson City of Nevada, members of the masonic lodge there and their places of business on the same street. He said he did not think I would get through with my husband if he was such a sick man. Dr. Burns told him if any one could it would be me. He said you can run Mrs. Brittain through an auger hole and she will come out unwrinkled.

Mr. Bragg was our friends name. He told Mr. Brittain he aught to be ashamed of himself for having me drive in such a way. He then wished us good luck on the rest of our trip and bid us good bye.

Previous installments

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.

Previous Installments

[Note: This picks up the narrative of Eleanor Brittain Knowlton again after nearly five months. The reason is simple. Not having read the memoir before, I belatedly discovered that while my sister had transcribed the manuscript from photos of the original handwritten text, she had only made it part way through editing it. And when I reached the end of her edits, it became to unwieldy for me to proceed. But this appears to be an excellent use of Gemini, Google’s AI-powered assistant. I copied the next section of text and submitted it to Gemini with a request to edit. It appears to have done a good job, and hopefully it will enable me to resume posting Eleanor’s story, a bit at a time.]

More from the…

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

Leaving the Brittain’s Ranch (Spring 1867)

We stopped all night at D. A. Brittain’s. The next morning, my husband, D. L. Brittain, said we had better go. I had to drive, as the eldest girl was fond of riding horseback and rode some every day.

Our wagon and horses were all gotten ready. The children and their father bid Cousin Dave goodbye. He came around to bid me goodbye and gave five dollars to each of the three girls. Then he said, “Here is a present for you,” and gave me a hundred dollars and a nice horse. My husband said that was too much. He said that the horse was for me, so he tied it to the side of our other horses, and I drove three instead of two. The new horse soon got so he led behind and was no trouble. Now our daughter could ride Polly, and when she was tired, her father could drive. Then I could ride until he was tired of driving. Polly was used to being tied by the right side of the hack horses, so we got along all right with our extra horse and found him to be a nice, gentle animal for everything except as a saddle horse.

We did not have a man to go with us, so we had to put up at farmhouses so that our horses could be taken care of. The country is more settled than what we have passed through. We will now strike out for a friend’s place by the name of Young, whom I got acquainted with in the fall of 1866.

Flashback to the Fall of 1866: Confronting Mr. Mitchell

(The following story took place the previous year, when the narrator first met the Youngs.)

I had left Mr. Brittain at Dr. Gratten’s water cure in Stockton for treatment. I was going to a man’s place by the name of Mitchell to stop until my husband had what water treatment he wanted. Mitchell lived on the Copperopolis Road, about 12 miles from Stockton, and he owed us about a thousand dollars which he had borrowed from Mr. Brittain in Nevada. When it was reported that Mr. Brittain was shot by robbers, Mitchell left Nevada, claiming to have failed in business. We did not know where he was until we located him while traveling.

Mr. Brittain told me not to drive too late in the day and to put up at some good farm where the horses could have good care. I came to one place that looked just as I would like to stop. The man spied us closely and finally said he did not accommodate travelers. So I went on to the next place.

A gentleman came out in front of the house, and I asked him if I could stop overnight. He hesitated for a moment and finally said his wife was sick, but he hated to turn a woman and children away. As it was getting late, he finally said he could not.

I now thought I would try to see if Masonry is any good, as the place showed the owner was well-to-do. I told him, “My husband is sick at Stockton, and I am going to a man’s farm to stop there until he comes, but I cannot get there until tomorrow.” I got no answer. Then I asked him if he could read my medal. He asked me if I could. I told him I could. He then told me to read. I said, “You read.” He read, then I read. He then told the children and me to get out and had the horses taken care of. The next morning, I asked for my bill, and he said nothing and invited me to call always when passing.

The next place I stopped to get a night’s lodging was Mitchell’s. He, like the rest, said he could not entertain me and claimed he had no woman at the place—just him, his two little boys, and some hired men. I told him I could camp and sleep in my wagon; I only wanted my horses taken care of. He then said I could stay if I would do my own cooking and could stay in the house using my own bedding.

We got out and went in the house. Our horses were cared for and our hack was driven inside. I got supper and made myself at home as much as I could. The children were posted not to talk and to avoid questions. After supper was over, he asked me where I was going. I told him I was going south. He asked me if I was a widow. I told him I was not.

Nothing more was said until the next morning after breakfast. He wanted to know if I wanted my team brought out. I told him no, I thought I would stay over until the next day, as my husband was in Stockton at a water cure. He asked for my name. I told him. He knew then who I was and said no more, but slipped his good suit of clothes and a pair of fine boots out and hid them in an old outbuilding.

That afternoon, he said I would have to go somewhere else, that his place was mortgaged and he would have to give it up.

I told him, “If you will give me money to travel on to Southern California, and enough to live on through the winter and take care of a sick husband, I will leave. Otherwise, I will stay or go wherever you go. You know you owe Mr. Brittain and you are able to pay.”

He said he would have to go on the highway.

“Well, that is all right,” I said. “I will go with you. You will make a good hand at pilfering, and I will conceal the booty. I will cook up something tomorrow and get ready.”

He went away then and did not come home until after three men came driving mule teams. I asked one of Mitchell’s little boys whose teams they were, and he said they were his father’s and they were hauling copper from Copperopolis. The child told me, “His father said he did not have anything. He has this place and these teams and lots of things. My mother is in the asylum. My father put her on a wagon and would make her go. He won’t let us children go to see her, but when I get older, I will.”

The next morning, Mitchell had taken one of my horses and gone. The teamsters said he had gone to Stockton. I gave one of them a letter to put in the office, telling Mr. Brittain to pay no attention to Mitchell. My husband later told me that Mitchell had been there to see him and told him he would have to get some other place for me. Mr. Brittain told him I was capable of taking care of myself while he was gone.

That day, I went to a nice house not far away to find out something about Mitchell and to tell the gentleman who lived there why I was stopping at Mitchell’s. He advised me to stay on and said he would be of any assistance if he could. I think this man had the mortgage on the place; he seemed so nice. His name was Philip Fitzgerald. I told him my mother was a Miss Elizabeth Ann Fitzgerald before she married a lawyer, James Thomas of Tennessee. He then told me he was a cousin of my mother’s, put his hand in his vest pocket, and gave me twenty dollars. I refused it, but he insisted I take it and told me that Mitchell would give me something to get me to go.

I went back to Mitchell’s. He came late in the afternoon and seemed somewhat blue. I was trying to be as cheerful as I could. He finally asked me what I was going to do.

I told him, “I am going to stay here, or go when you go, until you give me money to go south on, enough to buy food for the family and horses, and as much more as you can give me. And then you must renew the note which my husband holds against you.”

So he gave me three hundred dollars, a silver watch, and a glass-eyed mare, a very pretty animal. He said, “I hate to give her up; she was my little girl’s riding pony.”

“Well, it is too bad,” I said, “but she can be my little girl’s pony. She likes to ride.”

He gave all this to me and promised to give me the renewed note when Mr. Brittain came. I wrote to Mr. B. to come, and I told him what I had gotten and for him to get the note. So he did, and we left. I have never seen Mitchell since.

Resuming the 1867 Journey

(The author now returns to her story from the spring of 1867.)

Well, I had left my cousin D.A. Brittain’s around the first of April 1867, en route to Mr. Young’s. We were all well, but the one extra horse was somewhat of a bother. However, we had one drowned and one stolen before Cousin Dave gave me this one. We intended to buy pack horses when we got to Lake County, and as we could make good use of him in the Clear Lake mountains for a pack horse, I persisted in keeping him. Mr. Brittain wanted to sell or give away our extra horse, but as for Polly, no money would have caused me to let her go.

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