Oregon Historical Quarterly/Volume 5/Documents: A Brimfield Heroine
DOCUMENTS
[1]A BRIMFIELD HEROINE—MRS. TABITHA BROWN
How a plucky woman from Hampden County, Massachusetts, made her way to Oregon and started the Pacific University. A thrilling story of peril from exposure, starvation, and Indians. The heroine a Massachusetts woman of sixty-six years.
(The following letter has recently come to light, showing what hardships a company of emigrants from Missouri to Oregon endured in 1846. It was written by Mrs. Tabitha Brown, the widow of Rev. Clark Brown, who preached in Brimfield from 1797 to 1803. Mrs. Brown was a daughter of Dr. Joseph Moffet, physician in Brimfield, his native place, some 40 years. Mrs. Brown was born in 1780, and was therefore sixty-six years old when she made the journey that she describes. This letter was written in 1854, in her seventy-fifth year. For some time after becoming a widow she was a teacher in Maryland and Virginia, and afterwards, to improve her situation and to help her boys, she removed to Missouri, where she lived a good many years. Within this period the other members of her father's family became widely scattered, and their locations unknown to her. In 1846 she stated for Oregon with her son and daughter and their families, a Captain John Brown, brother of her deceased husband, accompanying them. She was eight months on the way, and the amount of suffering she passed through, and the courage with which she met it, will be seen in the letter itself.)
My Brother and Sister:
It is impossible for me to express to you the unspeakable pleasure and happiness your letter of the 29th of June gave me. Not hearing from you for so great a length of time, I had concluded myself to be the last one of my father's family remaining here, a pilgrim in the wide world, to complete the work that God gave me to do. Oh, that I could be present with you and Margaret and relate in the hearing of your children the numerous vicissitudes and dangers I have encountered by land and sea since I parted with you in Brimfield. It would fill a volume of many pages. But I will give a few items from the time I left Missouri, in April, 1846, for Oregon.
THE PARTY AND THEIR OUTFIT.
I expected all three of my children to accompany me, but Mathano was detained by sickness, and his wife was unwilling to leave her parents. I provided for myself a good ox wagon-team, a good supply of what was requisite for the comfort of myself, Captain Brown and my driver. Uncle John insisted on coming, an-l crossed the plains on horseback. Orus Brown, with his wife and eight children, Virgil K. Pringle, Pherne Brown, husband and five children, fitted out their separate families and joined a train of forty or more for Oregon, in high expectation of gaining the wished-for land of promise. Our journey, with little exception, was pleasing and prosperous until after we passed Fort Hall. Then we were within eight hundred miles of Oregon City, if we had kept on the old road down the Columbia River.
THE FALSE GUIDE.
But three or four trains of emigrants were decoyed off by a rascally fellow who came out from the settlement in Oregon assuring us that he had found a new cut-off, that if we would follow him we would be in the settlement long before those who had gone down the Columbia. This was in August. The idea of shortening a long journey caused us to yield to his advice. Our sufferings from that time no tongue can tell. He said he would clear the road before us, so that we should have no trouble in rolling our wagons after him. But he robbed us of what he could by lying, and left us to the depredations of Indians and wild beasts, and to starvation. But God was with us. We had sixty miles of desert without grass or water, mountains to climb, cattle giving out, wagons breaking, emigrants sick and dying, hostile Indians to guard against by night and day, if we would save ourselves and our horses and cattle from being arrowed or stolen.
We were carried hundreds of miles south of Oregon into Utah Territory and California; fell in with the Clamotte [Klamath] and Rogue River Indians, lost nearly all our cattle, passe-l the Umpqua Mountains, 12 miles through. T rode through in three days at the risk of my life, on horseback, having lost my wagon and all that T had but the horse I was on. Our families were the first that started through the canyon, so that we got through the mud and rocks much better than those that followed. Out of hundreds of wagons, only one came through without breaking. The canyon was strewn with dead cattle, broken wagons, beds, clothing and everything bit provisions, of which latter we were nearly all destitute. Some people were in the canyon two or three weeks before they could get through. Some died without any warning, from fatigue and starvation, others ate the flesh of cattle that were lying dead by the wayside.
After struggling through mud and water up to our horses' sides much of the way in crossing this 12-mile mountain, we opened into the beautiful Umpqua Valley, inhabited only by Indians and wild beasts. We had still another mountain to cross, the Calipose, besides many miles to travel through mud, snow, hail, and rain.
A DREADFUL JOURNEY.
Winter had set in. We were yet a long distance from any white settlement. The word was, "fly, everyone that can, from starvation; except those who are compelled to stay by the cattle to recruit them for further travel." Mr. Pringle and Pherne insisted on my going ahead with Uncle John to try and save our own lives. They wore obliged to stay back a few days to recruit their cattle. They divided the last bit of bacon, of which I had three slices; I had also a cup full of tea. No bread. We saddled our horses and set off. not knowing that we should ever see each other again. Captain Brown was too old and feeble to render any assistance to me. I was obliged to ride ahead as a pilot, hoping to overtake four or five wagons that left camp the day before. Near sunset we came up with the families that had left that morning. They had nothing tn eat, and their cattle had given out. We all camped in an oak grove for the night, and in the morning I divided my last morsel with them and left them to take care of themselves. I hurried Captain Brown so as to overtake the three wagons ahead. We passed beautiful mountains and valleys, saw but two Indians in the distance during the day. In the afternoon Captain Brown complained of sickness, and could only walk his horse at a distance behind. He had a swimming in his head and a pain in his stomach. In two or three hours he became delirious and fell from his horse. I was afraid to jump down from my home to assist him, as it was in- that a woman had never ridden before. He tried to rise up on his feet, but could not. I rode close to him and set the end of his cane, which I had in my hand, hard in the ground to help him up. I then urged him to walk a little. He tottered along a few yards and then gave out. I then saw a little sunken spot a few steps ahead and led his horse to it. and with much difficulty got him raised to the saddle. I then told him to hold fast to the horse's mane and I would lead by the bridle. Two miles ahead was another mountain to climb over. As we reached the foot of it he was able to take the bridle in his own hand and we passed over safely into a large valley, a wide, solitary place, but no wagons in sight.
The sun was now setting, the wind was blowing, and the rain was drifting upon the sides of the distant mountain. Poor me! I crossed the plain to where three mountain spurs met. Here the shades of night were gathering fast, and I could see the wagon tracks no further. Alighting from my horse, I flung off saddle and saddle-pack and tied the horse fast to a tree with a lasso rope. The Captain asked me what I was going to do. My answer was, "I am going to camp for the night." He gave a groan and fell to the ground. I gathered my wagon sheet, which I had put under my saddle, flung it over a projecting limb of a tree, and made me a fine tent. I then stripped the Captain's horse and tied him, placed saddle, blankets and bridles under the tent, then helped up the bewildered old gentleman and introduced him to his new lodging upon the bare ground. His senses were gone. Covering him as well as I could with blankets, I seated myself upon my feet behind him, expecting he would be a corpse before morning.
THE SITUATION.
Pause for a moment and consider the situation. Worse than alone, in a savage wilderness, without food, without fire, cold and shivering wolves fighting and howling all around me. Dark clouds hid the stars. All as solitary as death. But that same kind Providence that I had always known was watching over me still. I committed all to Him and felt no fear. As soon as light dawned, I pulled down my tent, saddled my horse, found the Captain able to stand on his feet. Just at this moment one of the emigrants whom I was trying to overtake came up. He was in search of venison. Half a mile ahead were the wagons I hoped to overtake, and we were soon there and ate plentifully of fresh meat. Within eight feet of where my tent had been set fresh tracks of two Indians were to be seen, but I did not know that they were there. They killed and robbed Mr. Newton, only a short distance off, but would not kill his wife because she was a woman. They killed another man on our cut-off, but the rest of the emigrants escaped with their lives. We traveled on for a few days and came to the foot of the Calipose Mountain. Here my children and my grandchildren came up with us, a joyful meeting. They had been near starving. Mr. Pringle tried to shoot a wolf, but he was too weak and trembling to hold the rifle steady. They all cried because they had nothing to eat; but just at this time their own son came to them with a supply, and all cried again. Winter had now set in. We were many days crossing the Calipose Mountain, able to go ahead only a mile or two each day. The road had to be cut and opened for us, and the mountain was covered with snow. Provisions gave out and Mr. Pringle set off on horseback to the settlements for relief, not knowing how long ho would be away, or whether he would ever get through. In a week or so our scanty provisions were all gone and we were again in a state of starvation. Many tears were shed through the day, by all save one. She had passe. I through many trials sufficient to convince her that tears would avail nothing in our extremities. Through all my sufferings in crossing the plains. I not once sought relief by the shedding of tears, nor thought we should not live to reach the settlement. The same faith that I ever had in the blessings of kind Providence strengthened in proportion to the trials I had to endure. As the only alternative, or last resort for the present time, Mr. Pringles's eldest son, Clark, shot down one of his father's best working oxen and dressed it. It had not a particle of fat on it, but we had something to eat poor bones to pick without bread or salt.
BLESSED RELIEF.
Orus Brown's party was six days ahead of ours in starting; he had gone down the old emigrant route and reached the settlements in September. Soon after he heard of the suffering emigrants at the south and set off in haste with four pack horses and provisions for our relief. He met Mr. Pringle and turned about. In a few days they were at our camp. We had all retired to rest in our tents, hoping to forget our misery until daylight should remind us again of our sad fate. In the stillness of the night the footsteps of horses were heard rushing toward our tents. Directly a halloo. It was the well-known voice of Orus Brown and Virgil Pringle. You can realize the joy. Orus, by his persuasive insistence, encouraged us to more effort to reach the settlements. Five miles from where we had encamped we fell into the company of half breed French and Indians with packhorses. We hired six of them and pushed ahead again. Our provisions were becoming short and we were once more on an allowance until reaching the first settlers. There our hardest struggles were en-led. On Christmas day, at 2 P. M. I entered the house of a Methodist minister, the first house I had set my feet in for nine months. For two or three weeks of my journey down the Willamette I had felt something in the end of my glove finger which I supposed to be a button; on examination at my new home in Salem, I found it to be a 6¼-cent piece. This was the whole of my cash capital to commence business with in Oregon. With it I purchased three needles. I traded off some of my old clothes to the squaws for buckskin, worked them into gloves for the Oregon ladies;m<l gentlemen, which cleared me upwards of $30.
THE BEGINNING OF PACIFIC UNIVERSITY.
Later I accepted the invitation of Mr. and Mrs. Clark, of Tualaten Plains, to spend the winter with them. I said to Mr Clark one day, "Why has Providence frowned on me and left me poor in this world. Had he blessed me with riches, as he has many others, I know right well what I would do." "What would you do?" "I would establish myself in a comfortable house and receive all poor children and be a mother to them." He fixed his keen eyes on me to see if I was in earnest. "Yes, I am," said I. "If so, I will try," said he, "to help you." He purposed to take an agency and get assistance to establish a school in the plains. I should go into the log meetinghouse and receive all the children, rich and poor. Those parents who were able were to pay $1 a week for board, tuition, washing, and all. I agreed to labor for one year for nothing, while Mr. Clark and others were to assist as far as they were able in furnishing provisions. The time fixed upon to begin was March, 1848, when I found everything prepared for me to go into the old meetinghouse and cluck up my chickens. The neighbors had collected what broken knives and forks, tin pans, and dishes they could part with, for the Oregon pioneer to commence house-keeping with. I had a well-educated lady from the East, a missionary's wife, for a teacher, and my family increased rapidly. In the summer they put me up a boarding-house. I now had 30 boarders of both sexes, and of all ages, from four years old to twenty-one. I managed them and did all my work except washing. That was done by the scholars. In the spring of '49 we called for trustees. Had eight appointed. They voted me the whole charge of the boarding-house free of rent, and I was to provide for myself. The price of board was established at $2 per week. Whatever I made over my expenses was my own. In '51 I had 40 in my family at $2.50 per week; mixed with my own hands 3,423 pounds of flour in less than five months. Mr.Clark made over to the trustees a quarter section of land for a town plot. A large and handsome building is on the site we selected at the first starting. It has been under town incorporation for two years, and at the last session of the legislature a charter was granted for a university to be called Pacific University, with a limitation of $50,000.00. The president and professor are already here from Vermont. The teacher and his lady for the academy are from New York. I have endeavored to give general outlines of what I have done. You must be judges whether I have been doing good or evil. 1 have labored for myself and the rising generation, but I have not quit hard work, and live at my ease, independent as to worldly concerns. I own a nicely furnished white frame house on a lot in town, within a short distance of the public buildings. That I rent for $100 per year. I have eight other town lots, without buildings, worth $150 each. I have eight cows and a number of young cattle. The cows I rent out for their milk and one-half of their increase. I have rising $1,100 cash due me; $400 of it I have donated to the University, besides $100 I gave to the Academy three years ago. This much I have been able to accumulate by my own industry, independent of my children, since I drew 6¼ cents from the finger of my glove.
- ↑ Reprinted from "Congregational Work" June, 1908. Compare Quarterly, September, 1902, (No. 3, vol. III.)