Old Missoula

Sarah Elizabeth Countryman Woody
1853 – 1919
As submitted by Michael Woody of Yucaipa, CA
A letter written by Elizabeth (Countryman) Woody, Wife of Franklin Hargrave Woody both from early times in Missoula, Montana.
Kalispell, Montana, September 10, 1918
I, Elizabeth Countryman Woody, was born in Yuba County, California, January 6, 1853, on Dry Creek, where placer mining was carried on. When I was a year and a half old my parents went via Isthmus of Panama to New York and then to Iowa, they stayed at a little village called Wadena on the Volga where we remained for some years until 1860, when the wanderlust again seized my father and we started for California, which took us six months and three days to get to my grand parents, sixteen miles north of Marysville, California. About seventy-five wagons made up our wagon train. There were five women and three children, the rest men well armed and provisioned. My father Horace Countryman, was Captain of the outfit. The Indians were bad, on the war-path that year. We had many narrow escapes, much of the time were so terrified. We would see by the roadside as we passed on smoldering wagons and other effects, the Indians taking what they wanted and burning the rest, murdering the immigrants or taking them prisoners. I could tell many tales of our hardships, and often now wonder why or how we escaped. Our train had from one to three men for each wagon, so we were unusually strong and could have put up a good fight. It certainly was by the mercy of God, and my father’s bravery, coolness and good judgment that we arrived at our destination safely, with one addition to our family, my sister being born three or four days before we reached there. The children were always kept close to the wagons. When camp would be made, and if the situation seemed very bad, a corral of the wagons would be made and all the stock turned in there and guarded as well. Then again, they could feed all night, The live stock consisted of horses, oxen and cows. Sometimes an ox would become sorefooted and a cow would be put in the yoke, thus doing double duty, Again we would remain in camp two or three days where grass, wood and water was more plentiful, so the stock and everybody could rest up, bake bread, wash and do the numerous things that were necessary. Finally we reached California, a tired but thankful lot of people. We, my father’s family, remained there a few months, then took the back track for Washoe, Nevada, then in a few months went to Lakes Bridge on the Truckee River, just where Reno now is. Only four houses were there when we left for Montana, Lakes Hotel, Grandfather’s and uncle’s house and our own. Then in 1865 we sold our place there, and started for Montana. The family remained at Willard City, Utah for the summer, and my father came on to Virginia City, Montana, In the fall we joined him there with our household goods, including two cows and a cat. We were told that cats brought ten dollars each. We had no intention of selling the family cat but in a short time she disappeared and much wailing was heard. My father put up the quartz mill at Summit, the first one in Montana, built the Masonic Hall in Virginia, (I have always had such a tender spot in my heart for Virginia). Also a mill at Highland Gulch, the Hope Mill at Philipsburg and the Masonic Hall there. Philipsburg I am fond of too. My father was the man that rode from Stillwater, Montana (now Columbus) to Helena to carry the news of the massacre of Custer and his brave men. I am proud of the history my father and husband made for Montana. I just had to tell of father in order to tell of myself. When we went to Philipsburg I was asked to take the school there, the first school, which I did. Had few pupils but they were lively. I was reminded of our Iowa home, where the teachers boarded round. Tho’ I lived at home when noon came I was besieged to go home with one for lunch. I did and thereafter it was a daily occurrence or else hurt some child’s feelings. Those were happy days. In the fall of 1869 found us on our way to Salt Lake City so my brother and myself could attend St Mark’s Episcopal school, looked after by dear Bishop Tuttle. My father went on to White Pine, Nevada, to look after some mill work. We were three weeks going from Philipsburg to Salt Lake City as we traveled leisurely. My health failing. My father and I left Ogden, Utah, in March, 1870, coming back to dear Montana, Deer Lodge being our ultimate destination. It was a bitter cold trip. On the stage that preceded ours, several Chinamen were frozen to death, and I was in much the same condition, Five nights and days we were en route. One other lady was along, and the coach was filled with men, inside and out, not even room for the proverbial one more. The others of the family came on to Deer Lodge the last of June. I was asked to take the school in Missoula, which I did on the fifth of July, it being the second term held in Missoula. I was with friends, the Dana’s, who formerly lived in Philipsburg when we did. I gathered up the children for the first Sunday-school in Missoula, children and parents and others attending. I finally persuaded a man by the name of Sims to superintend it, and thus relieve me. It was July 10th, 1870 that Bishop Tuttle held the first Protestant service here, in the Court-house. Only Mrs. Dickinson, Mrs. Meyers and myself are all that remain of those who were present at the services. Hardships we. had in those days, but yet how much pleasure from so little. We all shared alike, no striving to out-do another, tho’ when one of the women concocted some new dish out of the little we had to do with she did feel a little nifty, but shared the dish and formula with the others, Six women were in Missoula when I came and the bridge about where the county bridge is now, west of the city, had gone out by high water in the spring, and the only way we had of visiting a family who lived on the flat south side, was to raise a white cloth on a pole, and Mr. Blaine would come with his rowboat and take us over and return us when the day was done. I was called home to Deer Lodge in September by the death of my dear mother. The next spring we moved to Missoula, my father going to the Flathead Indian Agency where he put up several buildings and a little saw-mill. I was married in Missoula to Frank H Woody, December 10th, 1871. Had the Rector at Deer Lodge come down to perform the ceremony. The snow was deep, and hard to get about; we took the charivari good naturedly as it was all meant in kindness and to show their good feelings for us. Forty-five years together with its ups and downs, sorrows and pleasures, makes the heart sad, and yet I am glad I had it, tho’ there is such a pulling at the heartstrings now. I hope I have not taken up too much time, but there is so much to tell and there seems no good stopping place. With kindest feelings for all the Pioneers, I am
sincerely, Elizabeth Woody

(Below the letter in handwriting that I believe was Elizabeth’s son Frank Woody)
This was evidently written for one of the Pioneer Meetings & this is a copy from the original she had made at Kalispell.
(More hand writing from my mother Helen C Woody, wife of John Newton Woody, Frank’s son)
Strangely, in none of her letters or accounts does she mention falling into a fire on one of these wagon train trips, which burned off the end of her little finger on the right hand and crippled he right hip, so she always used a cane.