James Henry Martineau

Martineau, James Henry, …..was born March 13, 1828, in Amsterdam, Montgomery county, New York, the son of John Martineau and Eliza Mears. He writes: "For several years I was a student in the Monroe Academy in Elbridge, New York, graduating with credits in English, Latin, grammar, chemistry, geology, philosophy, history, algebra, etc. In order to gain the education I served as janitor, taking care of the building for my tuition. I had to endure much scorn and abuse from those boys whose parents were wealthy and who looked upon me with contempt. While this to a sensitive spirit was hard to bear, it never for an instant caused me to falter in my purpose, but only made me more determined to succeed.
At the age of 16 I left school, engaging as a clerk in my Uncle Peter Martineau's store in Sennett, Cayuga County, New York. In 1845 I decided to become a printer and entered the office of the Cayuga Tocsin published in Auburn, New York. Entering as devil, I soon became a compositor, and later ran the power press, one of the first brought into central New York.
About this time I had a severe trial, for our Editor was elected to Congress and he obtained for me an appointment as Midshipman in the Navy. This was my great ambition, as I had an adventurous disposition and a military spirit and this position would enable me to indulge it, for I could travel the world over as a gentleman and, should war arise, could see something of it.
But my mother was opposed to it, as I was her only son. She tried by every means to dissuade me, picturing possible wars, the danger of storms and shipwreck. Not the least in her eyes was the danger of contracting wicked habits. The more she said, the more I wished to see it, so she ceased and sat silently weeping. Then I yielded, and thus passed the turning point of my life.
When the Mexican war commenced in 1846 I enlisted in the U.S. regular army to serve during the war. Just two hours before I was to go to the front my mother came, demanded my release as a minor, and led me home. Refusing to return to the printing office, I went to Milwaukee, Wis., entering the office of the "Milwaukee Sentinel" as pressman, but soon enlisted again, and with many other recruits was sent to Newport Barracks. Serving in various ways on detached service until the war ended I was honorably discharged in July, 1848, and returned to Milwaukee.
While passing up the Mississippi River on July 6, 1848, my mother died. On my return to Milwaukee I engaged as clerk in the large bookstore of Hale and Chapman and remained there until the spring of 1849, when I decided to go around the world, first spending a year in the California gold mines, thence to China, India, Persia and Europe. My uncle, whose adopted son I now was, endeavored to dissuade me, offering me every inducement which his great wealth would permit and quoting the Proverb, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I wanted my moss rubbed off and told him so.
In 1849 I started for California, but on my arrival at the Missouri River I was told that it would be impossible so late in the season to safely cross the plains and so I stayed in Western Missouri until the spring of 1850, teaching school. Early in 1850 I again started on my journey to the Pacific Coast, during which my life was twice miraculously preserved, and I arrived in Salt Lake City, July 22, 1850.
During the journey I had been told the Mormons were guilty of every kind of wickedness, but on my arrival in Salt Lake City I found that I had been so much deceived by these lying reports that I decided to remain in the valley during the winter to study the people and then go on to California in the spring.
But I went no farther, for two women, the wife of Elder P. P. Pratt and the widow of Don Carlos Smith taught me the gospel, and I was baptized Jan. 19, 1851, (Jan 8?)just where the Temple stands in Salt Lake City before I heard a sermon by a "Mormon" Elder. "
(This part of his story in his own words now ends, and we will give a brief summation of his life in the following few paragraphs. Look to more compelete histories by clicking on the History Index at the top of this page)
In March of 1851 he was sent to help settle Iron County in southern Utah now at the age of 23. He became a member of Iron County Militia and the first clerk of the county. He served as city councilor and alderman and as ward clerk. Eight months later he married Susan Ellen Johnson, a 15 year old daughter of Joel Hills Johnson.
They began raising a family that ultimately numbered 13 children, two being adopted. He later married a second wife, Susan Julia Sherman on 18 Jan 1857 and practiced the sacred principal of plural marriage. They had 8 children.
The families moved to Logan, Utah and later on 28 Jan 1874 Susan Julia died from appendicitis leaving Susan Ellen to care for her children as well. Susan Ellen and James Henry moved a number of times, and his activities as a surveyor kept him away from home much of the time. James Henry was sent to Arizona to survey some of the mormon settlements there and from there the families were moved to old Mexico where many mormons had settled. During the Mexican Revolution in 1919(?) most of the colonists were driven back out of Mexico and back into the United States.
Many of the Martineau’s went back to Mexico and their homes when it was safe to do so, but James Henry and Susan Ellen and some of their family went back to the Salt Lake Area and Logan.
They had 67 years of married life together.
James Henry was well -educated for the times and served in many civic positions. He also served faithfully in various capacities in the LDS church, which was obviously an integral part of his life. He served as a Patriarch in the Church, and as such gave many Patriarchal blessings. Some of these blessings have been made available and can be viewed elsewhere.
See Stories, Letters, Other Index.
In 1887 James Henry Martineau made a collection of thoughts about life and his faith which he titled "Keys of Wisdom and Knowledge" for the benefit of his posterity. He signed this as Patriarch, Prophet, Priest and King.
You can find this under Stories,Letters, Other Index. and it is also available in a publication titled Pearls, which can be purchased from the Nephi Family Organization. [Pearls Order Form]
LIFE STORY OF
JAMES HENRY MARTINEAU
I was born in Amsterdam, Montgomery County, New York on March 13, 1828, the son of John and Eliza Mears Martineau. By my father I am a descendant of Elie and Marguerite Martineau, one of the Huguenots who fled from France after a heroic but vain struggle for religious liberty. My mother was of English Puritan stock. Her great-uncle Stephen Hutchinson was killed at the massacre of Fort William Henry by the Indians under Montcalm in the old French and Indian War in 1775.
Another ancestor, John Mears, was a Major in the Colonial forces in the same war and was captured at the taking of Oswego by the French and sent to France. On his way he was recaptured by a British ship and taken to England. After an absence of some years he returned to his home and found a stone erected to his memory in the village graveyard by his sorrowing wife.
My great-grandfather served as a commissary under Washington during the Revolution. My grandfather served in the War of 1812. My grandfather Stephen Martineau was born near New York City while it was occupied during the Revolution. Ethan Allen, captor of Fort Ticonderoga in 1775, was a great-uncle of my mother. These facts are mentioned to show that I come of a liberty-loving ancestry.
My father was born on March 22, 1793. He went to England as a stowaway when 19 years of age and remained several years studying medicine. While there he married his first wife, Jane Varley, who died during an epidemic. He then married Sarah Hawkins, a widow with two children. She bore him two children, Julis and Lucretia. Returning to America, his wife died in Baltimore from a yellow fever epidemic.
He then married my mother, Eliza Mears, who was 17 years old at that time. They were married in Elbridge, Onondaga County, New York in 1824.
He afterwards became a Civil Engineer, in which profession he became eminent. He was employed by President Andrew Jackson on the great Delaware Breakwater. He also laid out a ship canal around the Mussel Shoals on the Tennessee River. He laid out and constructed the first railroad in the United States from Camden to Amboy. He also practiced drawing and made many sketches of ancient ruins and other objects of interest which I remember as a boy.
My father changed the whole method of grain farming by the invention of a horse-power threshing machine to take the place of the old hand flail. He also brought a new system of water power usage through the invention of the turbine water wheel. He secured both patents, signed by President Jackson.
His last work was the laying out and construction of the Croton Water Works system for supplying New York City with water. He died in 1838 in Elbridge, New York. A bronze tablet in his honor adorns the walls of the Municipal Building in New York City. He was 6 feet 2 inches in height, well-proportioned, kind and gentle in disposition, in religion a Methodist.
In the financial crash of 1837 he lost over $70,000, leaving his family comparatively poor. I was thus compelled early in life to engage in the battle of life and thus became courageous, persevering, and self-reliant.
For several years I was a student in the Monroe Academy in Elbridge, New York, graduation with credits in English, Latin, grammar, chemistry, geology, philosophy, history, algebra, etc. In order to gain the education I served as janitor, taking care of the building for my tuition. I had to endure much scorn and abuse from those boys whose parents were wealthy and who looked upon me with contempt. While this to a sensitive spirit was hard to bear, it never for an instant caused me to falter in my purpose, but only made me more determined to succeed.
At the age of 16 I left school, engaging as a clerk in my Uncle Peter Martineau's store in Sennett, Cayuga County, New York. In 1845 I decided to become a printer and entered the office of the Cayuga Tocsin published in Auburn, New York. Entering as devil, I soon became a compositor, and later ran the power press, one of the first brought into central New York.
About this time I had a severe trial, for our Editor was elected to Congress and he obtained for me an appointment as Midshipman in the Navy. This was my great ambition, as I had an adventurous disposition and a military spirit and this position would enable me to indulge it, for I could travel the world over as a gentleman and, should war arise, could see something of it.
But my mother was opposed to it, as I was her only son. She tried by every means to dissuade me, picturing possible wars, the danger of storms and shipwreck. Not the least in her eyes was the danger of contracting wicked habits. The more she said, the more I wished to see it, so she ceased and sat silently weeping. Then I yielded, and thus passed the turning point of my life.
In 1846 an office for the enlistment of recruits for the Mexican war opened in Auburn. I went to enlist but the man refused to enlist me without my mother's consent, which I knew I could not get. He was soon relieved by another officer not so scrupulous, who enlisted me and arranged to send me to the general depot for recruits at 2 p.m. At noon my mother walked into the office, claimed me as being under age, and took my away, much to my chagrin.
Now wishing to return to the printing office to be ridiculed by the boys, I went to Milwaukee, Wisconsin and engaged in the Sentinel office as compositor and to run the power press. Here, as in Auburn, I daily heard the fife and drum and soon enlisted again for the war. After some months of drill out party of 130 left for Newport Barracks, Kentucky. Part of the time I was Drill Sergeant; part clerk in the Ordnance Department; and part clerk in the office of the General Superintendent.
Peace having been declared, I was honorably mustered out of service about the 1st of July, 1848 and returned to Milwaukee via St. Louis and the Illinois River. While passing up the Mississippi River on July 6, 1848, my mother died.
On my return to Milwaukee I engaged as clerk in the large bookstore of Hale and Chapman and remained there until the spring of 1849, when I decided to go around the world, first spending a year in the California gold mines, thence to China, India, Persia and Europe. My uncle, whose adopted son I now was, endeavored to dissuade me, offering me every inducement which his great wealth would permit and quoting the Proverb, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I wanted my moss rubbed off and told him so.
After a journey of six weeks, I was in St. Joseph, Missouri, too late to join emigrants. So I remained until the spring of 1850, teaching school. Crossing the Missouri River on May 15th, we started into the western wilds and arrived in Salt Lake City July 22, l850.
After a journey of a thousand miles without seeing a house, we were all overjoyed.
During the journey I had two narrow escapes from death. Once while among the rocks near the Sweetwater I was obliged to swing myself around a rocky point by means of a small bush growing in the rocks not more than a foot wide, along which I was obliged to crawl about 100 feet before I found a place of safety. Another time I was in imminent danger from a furious buffalo bull which I had wounded and from which I narrowly escaped, being on foot and alone. I knew the danger of attacking him alone and with no place of refuge, but could not resist the opportunity.
During the journey I had been told the Mormons were guilty of every kind of wickedness, but on my arrival in Salt Lake City I found that I had been so much deceived by these lying reports that I decided to remain in the valley during the winter to study the people and then go on to California in the spring. I hired to William Walker, resident of Farmington, doing all sorts of farm work and began to inquire into Mormonism. In September, 1850, I was one of the company of militia who went to the place where Ogden now is to rescue the people from an attack by the Indians, which had been brought about by the killing of White Cloud, an Indian chief.
I joined the Church January 8, 1851. In March, 1851, I started south to locate in Iron County, arriving there in April, traveling with Parley P. Pratt's company of missionaries. During the year 1851 I spent much time in exploration, and in expeditions against the Indians, who gave us much trouble. No man could leave the fort, as Parowan was called, without being well-armed.
For three years a regular guard was kept in the fort by night and a picket guard was stationed by day on a hill about a mile away, which commanded a full view of all the country round about. Besides this, the men were organized into two companies, one of cavalry and one of infantry, which paraded and drilled every two weeks. This constant state of preparation was closely watched by the Indians, both Pah-eeds and Utes, and was one of the principal causes of preservation from destruction. Many times was the settlement exposed to great danger, the nearest point of help being Provo, more than 200 miles away -- too far to be of any aid in sudden emergencies.
I served as third sergeant in the cavalry until November 11, 1851, and then as Sergeant major. On September 5 I was elected City Recorder Clerk. I taught school that fall and on January 8th I was married to Susan Ellen Johnson and began married life with but little of this world's goods. I acted as titiing clerk also, but all of my public service netted me little or nothing.
In September, Bishop Tarleton Lewis appointed me as one of his counselors, though I felt very incompetent for the place. On November 1, I was appointed Church recorder.
During 1852-53 we had many alarms from the Ute Indians, had many animals stolen by them, some of which we recovered. About one-third of my time was spent in military services against hostile Utes, besides which we could place no dependence in the Pah-eeds among whom we lived and this was a great burden to us. For instance, if anyone needed wood he had to wait until a party of 12 or 15 men could go together, half of whom stood guard while the others loaded their wagons. In returning, one man would drive two teams while the others served as front and rear guards with rifles in hand. Men always slept with loaded guns at hand and always carried them to meeting on Sunday, each man sitting with his gun between his knees.
In March 1853 nine others and I started a Mutual Improvement Society. I was also appointed one of the school examiners.
On April 10, I and 12 others were taken prisoners by Chief Walker and about 400 warriors. For a time death appeared certain as the Indians stood around us, their rifles cocked and leveled at our heads. I dislike looking into the muzzle of a gun with an angry Indian at the other end of it, but had to do it many times. By a little strategy we got out of the crowd and with the Indians made an exceedingly exciting race back to Parowan, some seven miles distant. In such cases, a good horse is highly appreciated. By good management this difficulty blew over.
About this time I was appointed Adjutant of the Cavalry Battalion, which included the horsemen of Parowan and Cedar City, 18 miles south of here. On July 24th we received word of the outbreak of Indian trouble at Payson in which men were killed and many head of stock driven away. We also received orders from Governor Young to provide for our safety by forting up and always going well-armed. All people living alone were to move into forts and all small settlements should be abandoned.
At a conference held in Cedar City November 21, 1853, my father-in-law Joel H. Johnson was appointed to teach and instruct and civilize the Indians. And all his children were to do so after him, their mission covering all of North America.
It having been decided to build a wall 6 feet thick and 12 feet high around Parowan, I worked on it all of the season to the amount of $600.00 (1854). In April 1854, myself and a few others formed a dramatic company for which I painted the scenery. Our first performance netted the sum of $6.75, the greater part of the audience being dead-heads. At this time Barnabas Carter made a Bass Viol for me, this being probably the first instrument of its kind made in Utah. It was used by me in the choir, of which I was the leader.
In April, 1855 I went to Salt Lake City on horseback with some returning missionaries and, not finding any company for my homeward journey, I started alone, although I knew it was a very dangerous thing to do. Usually no one traveled the road except in strong companies, well-armed and keeping a strict guard both day and night.
Having about 200 miles of Indian country to traverse, I took only nine small biscuits to eat, as I wished to travel as light as possible. I was well aware of my danger, but felt fully able to surmount it. The trip was accomplished in two and three-fourths days.
I camped in open view before sunset, ate one biscuit, made my bed of one blanket and tied my horse to a bush as if to stop all night. But in about an hour after dark, I quietly saddled up, stole away, and traveled 5 to 8 miles and then camped in earnest. Before daylight I left that place as quickly as possible, so that if Indians found my camp I could get away before they could crawl upon me. I slept with the end of my Horse's rope in my hand, listening to the wolves howling about me until I fell asleep. It was a hazardous way to travel, but safer than to have a party of four or five with one fool among them to bring danger upon the party.
In July, 1855 I began to teach the Deseret Alphabet, in which I was very proficient. In December I attended court in Fillmore, a session of Judge Drummond, and saw a prostitute sitting by the side of the Judge on a bench in open court. This disgraceful scene was repeated day after day, though the Judge was very bitter against polygamy among the Mormons.
In January, 1856 I made the map of Utah for Honorable J. M. Bernhisel, delegate to Congress for Utah, to be used by him there. In March I assisted Colonel W. H. Dame to survey the line between Iron and Washington counties, and in April surveyed the Beaver city townsite.
Having received news on August 2, 1857 of the coming of the U.S. Army, Colonel Dame reorganized the militia of the Iron Military District, comprising nine companies, and appointed me as Regimental Adjutant. From this time we drilled constantly with myself as drill master. George A. Smith arrived on August 6, having been appointed General in Command in Southern Utah. We proceeded at once on a tour through the settlements with Colonel Dame and myself, organizing and inspecting the militia of the district.
On September 4, four of us went scouting in the mountains, expecting to meet a detachment of Dragoons of the U.S. Army and were gone eight days. On my return I learned that the Indians had killed a company of emigrants on their way to California at a place called Mountain Meadows in revenge for the death of six braves poisoned by them at Corn Creek some time previously. Another company following the first applied to Colonel Dame for help and was furnished with five Mormon interpreters to help them through the Indian country. This they succeeded in doing, but with great difficulty. On March 19, 1858, Amasa Lyman arrived as Military Commander of the Iron District.
Up to this time I had been constantly drilling our troops in all of the settlements. On April 23, 1858, I started exploring the desert in company with Colonel Dame and 60 other men. Our object was to find a place of refuge for the people of Utah, who were to move south and burn everything behind them. I left my home, never expecting to see it again, but that my family after burning it would meet me in the desert, but I did it cheerfully, in full faith that God would look after His children
We returned home the last of July, having explored a large part of what is now Nevada. We suffered much at times for lack of water. At one place we explored a large cave for 3/4 of a mile without finding its terminus. The Indians said that it led into the interior of the earth where people lived as we do on the outside, but they were afraid to venture in. I was Historian of the expedition and made a map of the country. President Young having made peace with the United States, we were released to return to our families.
On November 5, 1858 I went to Camp Floyd and sold my pony and saddle for a good wagon and a load of yokes, chains and a fine yoke of oxen. On my way home I almost perished with cold in sight of my house, being speechless when rescued.
On May 2, 1859, Judge Cradlebaugh, with a large force of cavalry and infantry, passed through Parowan and proceeded to Santa Clara, remaining there for some time while they attempted to arrest many prominent Mormons for alleged rebellion against the government. I and many others went to the hills until danger was passed, for although President Buchanan had pardoned us, we could not trust Judge Cradlebaugh, knowing that we could not get a fair trial. The soldiers made many threats, saying that they would make the country a desert, hang the men, and take the women and do as they pleased. But they returned to Camp Floyd very humble and peaceful, having been hastily summoned back by General Johnson.
August 27, 1859 brought us a severe earthquake shock about 4 p.m. People rushed to their doors, dogs howled, chickens squawked, and it resembled pandemonium for a time, but on one was hurt. A large cliff of rock fell in the mountains near Beaver, disclosing a vein of lead ore from which the Indians obtained a plentiful supply of lead. This was the beginning of mining in Utah. On September 10th, I traded a rifle worth $40 for a little Indian girl who had been captured by the Utes on the Colorado River. Her little brother had been killed by the Indians a few days before because they could not sell him. I named her Cora Colorado and she grew to womanhood as smart and intelligent as any white girl.
In the fall I decided to move to Salt Lake City and traded for property in that city, in the 1st, 6th and 16th wards.
On January 15, 1860 we had two quite severe earthquake shocks. During this month I started with my family for Salt Lake City and camped on Corn Creek about 10 p.m. in the midst of a large band of Indians. Being many miles from any white, and knowing that we were in their power, I put on a bold front and asked for their cap-i-tan in their own (Pah-vant) language and asked them where I could camp. The chief sent an Indian to show me a good place, others followed with dry wood and made a good fire, while another took my teams away, while I knew not if I should ever see them again.
In the morning they brought my team back, having herded them all night. The Chief said that as they had eaten some of his grass I ought to pay him something, so I gave him a shirt and some flour, and both parties were well-satisfied. Had I shown fear, they would have plundered and perhaps killed us. We arrived in Salt Lake City on May 5 and that night a deep snow fell. It cleared off so cold that thousands of fruit trees were killed by the frost.
While living in Salt Lake I cut and hauled wood from the west mountains until June 19, when I started for Cache Valley to survey land by desire of President Young. While on my way with major Seth M. Blair's company of settlers, we learned that trouble had occurred with Indians at Smithfield, in which two whites and one Indian had been killed and several wounded. Therefore, we traveled in military order and reached Providence in safety. Here I remained for several weeks while making surveys in several parts of the valley.
I located my family in Logan and when the country was organized, I was appointed County Clerk and County Surveyor. I held this last position for more than 20 years.
For several months in 1861 I clerked for Farnsworth and Company and afterwards for the Thomas Box Company. Also, I taught a military school and assisted some of the time in the tithing office.
In June about 3,000 Indians entered the valley from Oregon with the avowed intention of exterminating the settlers. A strong force of Minute Men (Cavalry) was sent into camp about a mile from that of the Indians to keep watch of them I being one of them. We remained in camp nearly two weeks, spending much time each day in cavalry drill. In every settlement all of the men were under arms, had regular drills night and morning, paraded frequently and showed themselves too well-prepared for the Indians to attack. At last the Indians became frightened and hastily left the valley.
I spent several weeks in this service with others, but never received any pay for it. In fact, during the first ten years I spent a large part of my time on explorations, Indian expeditions, and guard duty without any compensation.
Each minute man was required to keep a horse saddled and bridled, arms and ammunition constantly on hand for instant service night and day, and we often started on an expedition with no more than 30 minutes notice. It was only this constant state of preparation that enabled the settlers of Cache County to maintain themselves against the Indians, who were numerous, well-armed and blood-thirsty, sometimes attacking companies of emigrants.
In the fall I assisted in organizing a dramatic company, which continued for five years and presented many plays, some of them very creditable.
In April while returning from Salt Lake City on horseback, I crossed the mountains on an Indian trail and nearly perished in the snow. It was deep and loose in many places and, if my horse had not been uncommonly strong and spirited, I might never have gotten through.
I was one of a party who explored Bear Lake Valley, crossing the mountains at the head of Blacksmith Fork River. In some places our trail lay along precipices barely wide enough for a horse to pass along and where a single false step would send one almost to certain death. On our return by the source of little Bear River, we found a vein of rich iron ore, assaying 70%.
Three days after our return, I started with a strong company on another tour of exploration into Bear Lake Valley by way of Cub River and made a thorough examination of its facilities for settlement, etc. I was historian and topographer and made report to President Young that the valley was suitable for settlement, it being generally supposed noninhabitable by reason of its altitude -- nearly 7,000 feet above sea level. We returned by way of Soda Springs and had much difficulty and danger in swimming our horses across Bear River and other swollen, raging torrents fed by the melting snows.
On Sunday, September 28, 1862, word came during church service that the Indians had stolen a band of horses belonging to Father H. Thatcher of Logan. I volunteered with about 20 others to follow them and in half an hour we were in pursuit, the Indians having 12 hours start. Our party was increased at Hyde Park and Smithfield by a few more, none of us having stopped to eat dinner or take any provisions. In following up an Indian trail, if one waits for all these things, the hostiles get out of reach; and this is why the U.S. troops accomplished so little in time of war with the Indians.
At dark we camped near the Indians, neither party daring to make any fire, and we lay on the wet ground exposed to a chilling tempest of wind and rain, hungry and shivering through a night that seemingly had no end. In the night two men with pack animals with provisions for our party from Franklin pass by us unobserved, so we were left without any food.
We followed the Indians three days into the mountains, sometimes being detained hours looking for their trail, which they tried always to conceal, and recovered 11 out of 29 horses they had taken. Finally the Indians scattered and we were forced reluctantly to abandon pursuit.
That night we accidentally met the two men with the food and were we glad! But our appetite did not fully return until the next day. I have given details of this raid, but it is only a sample of more than a score in which I have taken part.
On October 1, 1862 we got word that the Bannock Indians were mustering at Soda Springs to raid Cache Valley, so a strong force of men were sent to Franklin to help defend that place, while other detachments scouted in various directions. The Indians, learning of our readiness, desisted from their proposed attack.
In July 1863 I began photographing, learning from E. Covington. In the summer of 1864 I very narrowly escaped drowning, once in Bear River and also once in Logan River.
In October, 1867 I surveyed Malad City, Idaho and while there I wrote the following lines: (See following page, "Twilight Memories.")
In July 1869, Mr. S. B. Reed, superintendent of construction of the Union Pacific Railroad, sent for me to assist in surveying that road. I began near Lost Creek in Weber Canyon and continued until the middle of the following December, by which time the road was surveyed over 200 miles into Nevada, to Independence Wells. I served as topographer, preparing my maps with great care and exactness. We experienced many hardships and I had several hair-breadth escapes while climbing among rocks and precipices and in crossing the swollen, raging Weber, then at its height.
The company offered me permanent employment with good compensation and promotion, but I declined because of not wishing to be so much from home. I triangulated the country from Nevada to Ogden by direction of the chief engineer, Mr. Blickinsderfer, for this purpose ascending the high mountain peaks, always toilsome and often dangerous business. The data obtained was for the use of the Smithsonian Institute, Washington, D.C., to be used in constructing a correct map, with the numerous mountain ranges in their true position.

TWILIGHT MEMORIES
" Tis eve. The sunlight gilds with golden hue
The snowy, cloud-encircled mountain top;
And in the darkling shadowy vale, the dew
On flower and leaflet gathers drop by drop.
The hour is silent, save the murmuring rill
That leaps along its steep and rocky bed;
Or save the distant -- faintly tinkling bell --
Or soft-winged bat, that circles round my head.
The visions of the past before me rise
And oft are happy -- oft so sadly sweet
That tears, unbidden, glisten in the eyes
At thought of those whom I no more shall meet.
I see again my father's reverend form --
His grave demeanor and his stately air,
His sparkling eyes, with love and friendship warm --
His forehead -- crowned with silver-sprinkled hair.
My mother! Ah, how sacred is that word!
The first that by the infant lip is spoken;
The last that on the battle plain is heard
From thousands, ere their silver bowl is broken.
I see again her kind and loving face
That o'er me bent in childhood's blissful slumber,
Her gently beaming eye -- her quiet grace --
Ah! Who can e'er those happy memories number!
I hear again a spirit-whispered song
A sister used to sing, while at her feet
We nestled closely round. Her voice hath long
Been silent now. The cold white winding sheet
Enwraps our loved one's form; and on the stone
Her name engraven is with moss o'ergrown.
A lily pure and spotless, blooming, bright,
Life's spring awhile she graced -- then passed from sight.
I had a brother once -- a baby boy
Scarce two years old, with soft and gentle eye
And wavy hair -- his mother's latest joy
And happy as the bird that caroled nigh.
Years since have passed: I never saw him more,
But have been told that on the battle plain
Where rushing thousands trampled deep in gore
He rests among our country's valiant slain.
No purer patriotism than his was found --
No braver hearts our banner gathered round.
How many tried and trusted friends are gone!
How many times our aching hearts have bled!
How oft an old and half-remembered song
Hath brought to mind those scenes forever fled!
And time is passing still. To-day will be
Soon numbered with the shadowy, silent past.
While rush we on towards eternity
That stretches out so broad -- illimitable -- vast.
One Sunday I heard the distant sound of a church bell -- the first time since 1849 -- awakening memories of the past which are partially embodied in lines I wrote entitled "Sabbath Bells."
Lines written on hearing the sweet sound of the church bell at Brigham City this soft and calm summer afternoon, awakening in me memories the most exquisitely tender. To my wife Susan E., hoping that when I, too, shall be numbered by her in the shadowy "Long Long Ago," they may awaken in her heart the same fond memories that dwell in mine. James H. Martineau Brigham City, June 8, 1873
Sabbath Bells! Sabbath Bells!
What memories throng as your music swells!
How the Shadows glide forth from the Long Long Ago
From the dim distant past, that more distant still grows
As the years swiftly bear us on Time's silent tide
To that vast mystic ocean, Eternity wide.
Sabbath Bells! Sabbath Bells!
How sweetly are pealing your silvery knells!
While I list to your pound, from the Shadowy Clime
Comes the faint lingering voice of an echoing chime
That long ago rang in boyhood's bright hours
That were passed with the birds, many brooklets and flowers.
Sabbath Bells! Sabbath Bells!
Like a requiem soundeth that slow pealing knell,
For e'en while I listen, a shadowy throng
With step slow and mournful comes silent along;
And in that grim hearse with its black waving plume
Lies my mother's cold form in her life's fairest bloom.
Sabbath Bells! Sabbath Bells!
Of scenes passing joyous that sounding note tells.
The funeral cortege hath vanished from sight
As the night giveth way to Aurora's pale light
And the hours so happy the brighter still grow
But the dark ones are hid in the Long Long ago.
Sabbath Bells! Sabbath Bells!
Still today as of yore your sweet music swells.
The brook still is flowing, the flowers still bloom
Though friends dear and cherished pass into the tomb.
The scenes that are passing soon come and soon go
And shadows become in the "Long Long Ago."
Brigham City, June 8, 1873, J. H. Martineau

In August 1871, I began the location of the Utah Northern Railroad, of which I was chief engineer. I very much desired to locate the road from Great Salt Lake Valley to Cache through the Bear River pass, along the river, instead of over the Divide where it now runs, but was not permitted to do so. I made several personal reconnoissances through the pass myself and was certain the road could have been constructed at much less expense than the present line and without its present heavy gradient of 100 feet per mile and without trouble from snow. I continued as chief engineer until 1875. After this I spent most of my time surveying and mapping.
In March 1875, Brigham Young, Jr., Moses Thatcher, and I were appointed by the Logan City council a committee to invite Governor Axtell to visit Cache County. I wrote the invitation, which was politely accepted and, when he arrived, traveled through the county with him. He seemed pleased with his hearty reception by the people and their good order, industry and sobriety.
In June 1875 I visited a coal deposit in Wyoming, lately discovered by an Indian. There were several veins of good coal, some of which I sent to Philadelphia to be tested. It was pronounced good.
In the spring of 1876 I took a trip to southern Utah, and in 1877 began to work at mapping in the Surveyor General's Office, Salt Lake City.
May 17, 1877 I assisted Jesse W. Fox in laying out the temple foundation by request of President Brigham Young and was present at the dedication of the ground and at the final dedication of the temple in 1884.
In February 1879 I left home in company with my son Lyman, Moses Thatcher and William Jennings for a tour of the eastern and northern sections of the country. Washington, New York, St. Paul, Minneapolis, Madison, and Chicago were visited on this trip. This was the first visit I had made to this part of the country since 1849, and the growth and progress of the country traversed during my three months' tour was nothing short of marvelous.
In November 1882, I went with Erastus Snow and Moses Thatcher on a trip through southern Arizona, into Sonora, Mexico, with the purpose of investigating this part of the country as to its suitability for colonization by our people. We returned to Logan in the following January. While in Arizona I was chosen as a counselor to President Christopher Layton of the newly-organized St. Joseph Stake, which consisted of the people living along the Gila and San Pedro Rivers.
While residing in Cache County I leveled and located many large canals, ranging in length from 5 to 30 miles, and surveyed many towns and settlements in Idaho, Utah, and Arizona, 35 in all, besides some that were afterward abandoned. I served as Adjutant General of brigade of Cache Militia District until my removal to Arizona in 1883 and was engaged in almost every exploring expedition and Indian raid that took place; was county clerk eight years in Iron County and six in Cache County; and, in short, led a very busy life, always placing the public good before my own.
During 1882, '83 and '84 I made several exploring tours in Sonora and traveled through much of southern Arizona. During that time I visited Utah three times by rail via San Francisco. In 1883 I surveyed the town of St. David, Arizona, also a large canal near the same place, and in 1884 surveyed the towns of Curtis, Graham, Pima and Thatcher. In 1885 I surveyed Solomonville, Duncan and Thomas; also a large canal in Graham County, Arizona running from Safford to Pima.
In 1886 I was solicited by leading non-Mormons in Arizona to accept the office of Probate Judge of Graham County; also to become candidate for member of the Territorial Legislature, but declined both nominations, not wishing to engage in politics, and being satisfied with the modest positions of county surveyor and notary public of Graham County. In January 1887 I was unanimously elected Mayor of Pima, but in consequence of a prolonged visit to Utah resigned that office in a few months.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(The preceding was excerpted from Tullidge's Magazine, ending in 1887. From here on are excerpts written by James Henry Martineau's son Joel.)
In 1888 Father and I left Pima in June and started for the Mormon Colonies in Mexico. After a hard journey, we came to Colonia Juarez and visited for two days with Uncle Sixtus Johnson and then went up the terrible San Diego Canyon road to Corales.
From here with David E. Johnson as guide we went over ridges and canyons to Cave Valley where the colony Sawmill was located, and remained two days looking around and then returned to Colonia Juarez. Here Father bought a lot from Franklin Spencer and we then pursued our journey homeward.
Father remained in Pima a short time, sold our home, and made arrangements for our departure for Mexico. He then returned to Tucson, Arizona, where he worked in the Land Office as a draftsman.
In January 1889 we finally left Pima. I drove four horses with two wagons. Mother and the girls drove a horse team. My 16-year-old brother Theodore and Harlon Carlton drove our cows and loose horses, along with the Carlton stock. My brother Henry had a four-horse team with two wagons and also a single team. James H. Carlton had a similar outfit; in all 9 wagons and 18 work animals.
We laid over in Deming two days and Father came from Tucson and brought Mother some money, then returned to his work. Soon a big canal called the Gila Bend was projected and Father was put in charge of it. After spending a year on it and the canal was near completion, the company failed and other interests took over. Father, like most of the men they were owing, was swindled out of his pay and lost nearly all he had earned and was left in debt. The canal was laid out over a sun-parched desert and one day, while riding alone on location, he was overcome by the intense heat, and only his faith and prayers saved him from a lonely death.
He went to work again in the Land Office in Tucson on November 26 and finished on March 10, 1891. He earned in that time $407.65, or about $5 a day, very low wages in those days.
There were many more surveys and engineering projects in Mexico. There was also much church work and a move from Deming to Sonora.
On July 11, 1892 the family celebrated Mother's 56th birthday.
In the latter part of the next year, Father began the survey of a large tract of land for a Mr. Murphy. This tract had formerly belonged to the Garcia brothers of Mexico City and extended from the Pacheco purchase, which was its north line, to the Candelaria peaks south of Chichupa, about 50 miles in length, and from the Sonora line it extended almost to the San Miguel River. He had an outfit for packing the necessary camp equipment and a party of eight men, and finished the job in May 1901. One of its best men was John A. Whetten, the flagsman, who took pity on him for the sorry horse he had to ride and gave him a splendid little saddle mule and rode the lazy old horse himself.
Father had survey work around the colonies and in the nearby country until 1904 (?) and during this time built an addition on the house, doing most of the work himself. During this year he took a contract as deputy U.S. Surveyor to survey several townships in the wild Uintah Mountains of eastern Utah at the age of 79 years.
James Henry and Susan Ellen Johnson Martineau had the following children: Henry Augustus, Moroni Helaman, Susan Elvira, John William, Nephi, George Albert, Joel Hills, Gertrude, Theodore, Anna Sarah, James Edward, Dora.
James Henry and Susan Julia Sherman Martineau had the following children: Delcena Diadamia, Lyman Royal, Charles Freeman, Jessie Nathaniel, Julia Henrietta, Elizabeth, Virginia, Joseph.

Martineau, James Henry, …..was born March 13, 1828, in Amsterdam, Montgomery county, New York, the son of John Martineau and Eliza Mears. He writes: "For several years I was a student in the Monroe Academy in Elbridge, New York, graduating with credits in English, Latin, grammar, chemistry, geology, philosophy, history, algebra, etc. In order to gain the education I served as janitor, taking care of the building for my tuition. I had to endure much scorn and abuse from those boys whose parents were wealthy and who looked upon me with contempt. While this to a sensitive spirit was hard to bear, it never for an instant caused me to falter in my purpose, but only made me more determined to succeed.
At the age of 16 I left school, engaging as a clerk in my Uncle Peter Martineau's store in Sennett, Cayuga County, New York. In 1845 I decided to become a printer and entered the office of the Cayuga Tocsin published in Auburn, New York. Entering as devil, I soon became a compositor, and later ran the power press, one of the first brought into central New York.
About this time I had a severe trial, for our Editor was elected to Congress and he obtained for me an appointment as Midshipman in the Navy. This was my great ambition, as I had an adventurous disposition and a military spirit and this position would enable me to indulge it, for I could travel the world over as a gentleman and, should war arise, could see something of it.
But my mother was opposed to it, as I was her only son. She tried by every means to dissuade me, picturing possible wars, the danger of storms and shipwreck. Not the least in her eyes was the danger of contracting wicked habits. The more she said, the more I wished to see it, so she ceased and sat silently weeping. Then I yielded, and thus passed the turning point of my life.
When the Mexican war commenced in 1846 I enlisted in the U.S. regular army to serve during the war. Just two hours before I was to go to the front my mother came, demanded my release as a minor, and led me home. Refusing to return to the printing office, I went to Milwaukee, Wis., entering the office of the "Milwaukee Sentinel" as pressman, but soon enlisted again, and with many other recruits was sent to Newport Barracks. Serving in various ways on detached service until the war ended I was honorably discharged in July, 1848, and returned to Milwaukee.
While passing up the Mississippi River on July 6, 1848, my mother died. On my return to Milwaukee I engaged as clerk in the large bookstore of Hale and Chapman and remained there until the spring of 1849, when I decided to go around the world, first spending a year in the California gold mines, thence to China, India, Persia and Europe. My uncle, whose adopted son I now was, endeavored to dissuade me, offering me every inducement which his great wealth would permit and quoting the Proverb, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I wanted my moss rubbed off and told him so.
In 1849 I started for California, but on my arrival at the Missouri River I was told that it would be impossible so late in the season to safely cross the plains and so I stayed in Western Missouri until the spring of 1850, teaching school. Early in 1850 I again started on my journey to the Pacific Coast, during which my life was twice miraculously preserved, and I arrived in Salt Lake City, July 22, 1850.
During the journey I had been told the Mormons were guilty of every kind of wickedness, but on my arrival in Salt Lake City I found that I had been so much deceived by these lying reports that I decided to remain in the valley during the winter to study the people and then go on to California in the spring.
But I went no farther, for two women, the wife of Elder P. P. Pratt and the widow of Don Carlos Smith taught me the gospel, and I was baptized Jan. 19, 1851, (Jan 8?)just where the Temple stands in Salt Lake City before I heard a sermon by a "Mormon" Elder. "
(This part of his story in his own words now ends, and we will give a brief summation of his life in the following few paragraphs. Look to more compelete histories by clicking on the History Index at the top of this page)
In March of 1851 he was sent to help settle Iron County in southern Utah now at the age of 23. He became a member of Iron County Militia and the first clerk of the county. He served as city councilor and alderman and as ward clerk. Eight months later he married Susan Ellen Johnson, a 15 year old daughter of Joel Hills Johnson.
They began raising a family that ultimately numbered 13 children, two being adopted. He later married a second wife, Susan Julia Sherman on 18 Jan 1857 and practiced the sacred principal of plural marriage. They had 8 children.
The families moved to Logan, Utah and later on 28 Jan 1874 Susan Julia died from appendicitis leaving Susan Ellen to care for her children as well. Susan Ellen and James Henry moved a number of times, and his activities as a surveyor kept him away from home much of the time. James Henry was sent to Arizona to survey some of the mormon settlements there and from there the families were moved to old Mexico where many mormons had settled. During the Mexican Revolution in 1919(?) most of the colonists were driven back out of Mexico and back into the United States.
Many of the Martineau’s went back to Mexico and their homes when it was safe to do so, but James Henry and Susan Ellen and some of their family went back to the Salt Lake Area and Logan.
They had 67 years of married life together.
James Henry was well -educated for the times and served in many civic positions. He also served faithfully in various capacities in the LDS church, which was obviously an integral part of his life. He served as a Patriarch in the Church, and as such gave many Patriarchal blessings. Some of these blessings have been made available and can be viewed elsewhere.
See Stories, Letters, Other Index.
In 1887 James Henry Martineau made a collection of thoughts about life and his faith which he titled "Keys of Wisdom and Knowledge" for the benefit of his posterity. He signed this as Patriarch, Prophet, Priest and King.
You can find this under Stories,Letters, Other Index. and it is also available in a publication titled Pearls, which can be purchased from the Nephi Family Organization. [Pearls Order Form]
Several years ago, while moving Florence Martineau’s (a descendant of Nephi Martineau) belongings and distributing her bequests as she moved to a nursing home, Melna Martineau, wife of Lyman E. Martineau, and acting executor of Florence’s estate, saw a notebook in the garbage. It was discolored with age and had loose pages. Someone had picked up the notebook and discarded it because of its poor condition. Because she was in a hurry to finish the job, she took the notebook from the garbage and placed it in her bag, intending to look at it later. The notebook was forgotten until after Florence’s death. When going through some things, Melna found the notebook and carefully investigated the contents of the ragged book. She was excited to find that it was a collection of writings kept by James Henry Martineau. It was hand written, and displayed his beautiful penmanship. But the pages were brittle and beginning to crumble. There was mold between some of the pages, and the binding was in ribbons. Knowing that it would further deteriorate if not cared for, and not knowing how to care for it, Melna contacted Utah State University Special Collections Library. They stated that they could mend and preserve the book and store it so that it would last for years. In return for the donation of the book to their special collection, they agreed to make a photo copy of the notebook so that more copies could be made. They also agreed that any member of the James Henry Martineau family who wished to see the book, would be able to examine the original volume. The library has since repaired the notebook so that it is no longer tattered. The book is stored in a special box in a special room and is continually kept at the right temperature and with the proper humidity for preservation. But best of all, we have a photocopy of the original that can be reproduced over and over. That means that any family member who would like a photocopy of this rare treasure may have it. James Henry Martineau wrote the following on the title page of his "Pearls": To my dear children, .May my beloved ones profit by my labors, and become great and mighty in doing good. Great and mighty in the Priesthood, and great in their celestial exaltation in the celestial glory through obedience to every law of God, is the earnest prayer of their loving father. Patriarch, Prophet, Priest and King Logan August 18, 1887
Pearls has 177 pages of his handwritten notes, and includes copies of some of his Patriarchal Blessings. The cost is $12.00.
To my dear children.Note: In making this collection of Keys of wisdomKeys of wisdom and knowledge, my object has been to bring together in compact form many precious truths that are widely scattered among many publications of the Church, and therefore beyond the reach of any save a few, whose time and means will permit them to read and search for wisdom. As we will be exalted in proportion, not to our goodness but our intelligence, it is of vast importance to gain all we can: by study, faith, prayer, by the aid of the Holy Spirit; and to help and assist my children to obtain this intelligence and so to help them become wise unto their eternal exaltation in their celestial kingdoms and never ending dominions is the object of this work. May my beloved ones profit by my labors, and become great and mighty in doing good, great and mighty in the Priesthood, and great in their celestial exaltations in the celestial glory through obedience to every law of God, is the earnest prayer of their loving Father, Patriarch, Prophet, Priest and King,Logan August 18, 18
Stories written by James Henry Martineau. On some of the stories he used the pen name of San Tiago which is Saint James in Spanish. They were published in various places.
Titled An Engineer's Tribulations as it appeared in The Contributor
It may interest some of the many readers of The Contributor to know something of a surveyor’s life, and the many tribulations they may expect to meet in adopting the profession of a surveyor or a civil engineer. In this connection I do not refer to city surveyors or engineers. Their work, so to speak, is gilt-edged. Right at home, their work does not compel them to face the furious snowstorm, the drenching rain, the camping in the snow or in the mud, which is worse, not to suffer the intense thirst often encountered in his desert work. He does not toil painfully and slowly up the precipitous mountain side for a mile at a time, at the constant risk of his life, perhaps, and then find, on reaching what he fondly supposed to be the summit of the mountain, that he was mistaken—than a higher ridge is still in advance, with a steep, rocky canyon before him, apparently a mile deep, which he must at once descend, and then climb again, and after hours of toil and danger find himself but very little advanced upon his line of survey. Any surveyor of experience will at once recognize the picture, and recall the unspeakable dismay it then caused him. The city engineer may at almost any hour get a drink of cold water, something to eat, or shelter from a storm, and, at night, rest in his own comfortable home.
I give a few bits of my own experiences as an engineer, not to make one suppose mine to have been exceptionally hard, but that new beginners in the profession may know what they too may possibly meet. The surveyor goes on in advance of civilization. He traverses the wilderness and the deserts, as the foremost drop of spray of the advancing tide, as it encroaches upon the shore. And so his work, of necessity, carries him away from the comforts of home.

No one can better appreciate the delights of home, wife, and friends than the surveyor, just returned from a three months’ absence in the wilderness. Many a time has the writer and his party returned from such an expedition—not “fat, rugged, and saucy,” but just the opposite—a miniature copy of Falstaff’s regiment of ragamuffins. All ragged; some with shoes (or their small remnant) fastened together with bits of wire; others with no shoes at all, their wounded feet protected by pieces of cloth cut from their clothing, and bound upon their feet by strings or thongs of raw hide. And as he nears his home each man emphatically declares he will never—no, never—be such a fool again, nor take another such a jaunt. “No, sir,” say all, “you bet I don’t go out again—not if I know myself.” But it seems we don’t ourselves, for in a month or two you may see that same set of boys start out again on just such another expedition of hardship and danger as that which they lately vowed never to repeat.
There is a species of fascination in such a life, and so long as men have something to eat and shoes to their feet, they can stand almost anything. But sometimes provisions become scarce. On one occasion I was making a United States land survey in the heart of the Wasatch range, and our meat gave out and nearly everything else. One day one of the boys killed a porcupine, and being very hungry we determined to eat it. So it was cooked, and each man valiantly helped himself, saying, as he did so, “It’s first class, just as good as any meat I every ate.” But I noticed that a very small piece was sufficient for each one, and that what usually would be but a day’s supply seemed good for a week at least, until finally we threw it away. In truth, the meat seemed as good as any other, but imagination, no doubt, made all the difference. At length we found a man with a flock of several thousand sheep. He had a light covered wagon to live in, and had as companions five shepherd dogs. He remained a few days in a place, until grass became scarce, then moved a few miles, living from spring until the next winter all alone. “Don’t you get lonesome,” said I. “Oh, no,” answered he, apparently surprised at my question, “there’s the dogs! They’re good company.” Seeing a look of surprise, he continued, “Why, the dogs are good company. They can’t talk, but they understand every word I say, and I understand them. I’ll show you,” said he. The sheep were about a quarter of a mile away, scattered and grazing. Said he, in an ordinary tone of voice, and not speaking to any particular one, “John, I guess you’d better round up the sheep.” Instantly one of the dogs—John, I presume—darted away and began to run round and round outside of the flock, gradually bringing them together, the other dogs apparently unconcerned and asleep. “Nero, I guess you’d better help John,” said the man in the same even tone, and away Nero went to help the other dog. “Charlie, you’d better go too,” and away went Charlie; and so in succession went Jack and Rouser. All five ran round and round the flock, uttering not a bark nor a yelp—the sheep huddling closer until they became a solid mass. “That’ll do. Watch ‘em,” said the herdsman. Instantly each dog stopped, and sat facing the herd at equal distances apart, and the man walked into the herd, selected a fat wether to kill, and then said, “All right, let them go,” and every dog went to the wagon and laid down to sleep. “Why,” says the man, “any one of those dogs is worth more than two men to me. I can trust them better than I can any man. I must go and feed them. They know when they’re well treated as well as anybody else.” This lonely man, ignorant in many respects, knew the secret of power and influences, and I instinctively bowed in respect and admiration. And so we got our meat.
But not always were we so fortunate. While with Thos. B. Morris’ party, Union Pacific engineers, locating the line of railroad about two hundred miles west of Ogden, we got out of provisions—had nothing left but a little corn meal and some vinegar—not a morsel besides. Our supply teams had got delayed, and we were, as the boys put it “out of grub.” So we laid by one day, and every man except one or two, went out to kill a few rabbits or birds. Fifteen men started out, armed mostly with pistols, and after traveling about twenty-five or thirty miles each, in as many directions, returned at night to camp one by one, tired, hungry, thirst—and empty handed. Not a man had seen a rabbit or bird, but each fondly hoped the others had. When I, too, returned last of all—unsuccessful, faces looked woe-begone indeed. The cook mixed some corn meal and water, without salt even, and cooked it, but we could hardly eat it. That night the men—fifteen of them—were mutinous: they “wouldn’t stand it!” They’d have it out of Morris’ hide! Etc, etc. Mr. Morris took me to one side, saying, “I wish you’d take this party and run it. I can’t do it.”
“Why no,” said I. “I couldn’t do it. The men wouldn’t mind me.” “Oh yes they would,” said he, “they’d do any thing you say.” So I talked around with the men—mostly from the far east, and tough cases—and gradually they calmed down. For a while it looked serious. Next day our supplies came, and with full stomachs peace again reigned. I think it is Mrs. Cady Stanton who says to her sisters that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach! A base slander upon the men—but I fear it is very near the truth.
While assisting in the Union Pacific railroad survey down the Weber Canyon we had a very hard time. The river had overflowed the bottoms on each side from one to five feet deep, and to make it worse, our survey line ran through a dense growth of tall willows which shut out every breath of air, making it sweltering hot. A pathway about four feet wide was cut through the willows, and stakes, numbered and driven one hundred feet apart, marked the line of survey. Sometimes the head chainman, wading in water perhaps a foot deep, would suddenly disappear from sight for a few minutes, but his sputtering “remarks” would soon make known his locality as he arose from the bottom of some gulch into which he had stepped, its depth hidden by the muddiness of the water. Our natural desire to laugh at his misfortune was checked by the thought that we, too, must follow where he had led, and get a similar ducking.
For weeks we toiled on, through water, brush and rocks. One day our line ran along the precipitous face of a rock about eighty feet above the roadway beneath it; but a narrow ledge a foot wide, and extending some two hundred feet to a big cliff, seemed to offer a sufficient pathway to our fearless chainmen, and they determined to try the dangerous route. They climbed to the ledge, and slowly proceeded along it, stepping sideways step by step, we, who were below, looking on with some anxiety, when the leader, James Larkins, was soon to convulsively clutch the rocks as he shouted out, “I’m going to fall!” Calling out to him to “stand still and not to look down,” and that I would go above and help him, I seized a long flagpole and climbed to the top of the rock above him. But how to help him, was not so clear. The rock, where I stood, was level, but sloped thence very steeply to the brink, where Larkin’s head was barely visible. It was so steep and smooth I was afraid to venture down the slope, but was obliged to, in order to get near enough for him to get hold of the pole. Luckily a small bush, a half an inch in diameter, grew in a crack a little way down. I crawled carefully a little way below it, grasped it with my left hand while with my right I extended to him the pole, and in this spread-eagle style awaited with some trepidation the moment when he would try to pull himself up by its aid over the brow of the cliff. But would the bush retain its hold to the rock with a man’s weight, struggling convulsively against it? And if it should remain firm, could I retain my hold, both to the bush and the pole! Before I could think much about it, Larkins had seized the pole, and was desperately struggling upward, bracing his knees against the rock and thus much increasing the strain upon me. It was a fearful moment. Once I felt the bush loosen a little, as I thought, and my heart flew into my throat with the awful feeling that I was about to be dragged over the cliff to the rocks beneath—eighty or ninety feet! But the bush held, and in a moment Larkins was up and crawling rapidly to the level top on hands and knees. We reached the flat, and then both fell, weak and limp upon our faces, and there lay fifteen or twenty minutes before either one dared or had strength to move, completely unnerved and bereft of courage. Finally descending, we found the other chairmen safe at the bottom of the rock. But for all such work in future, Larkins, hitherto a man without fear in such places, was utterly ruined. He said he wouldn’t climb any more rocks like that for the whole Union Pacific; and I, for one, didn’t blame him. The horrible sensation experienced when the bush seemed about to give way, cannot be described. The only way to approximate to it is to get a fit of nightmare and imagine yourself about to fall a thousand feet.
At times the swollen river had to be crossed, and this is how it was done: an expert swimmer started across with strong twine in his teeth, which was tied at the other end to a clothes line, and that fastened in turn to a strong rope. Reaching the bank, by his twine he first drew over the line, and by its aid pulled the rope across. This was fastened to trees on each side, and served as a ferry cable. A little skiff was attached to it by a short chain and pulley, which held the boat against the swift current. But in these endeavors the men several times narrowly escaped drowning. Sometimes a man, after being carried down stream half a mile, would be glad to get out again on the side he had entered, and then make his way back to his clothing, naked, scratched and bleeding by the thorns and brush he must of necessity creep through.
In fording the river where it was only three feet deep, in one place, the current was so swift no man could keep his feet in it without help; but with a man upon his shoulders to hold him to the bottom he could do it. But the less one has to do with such a raging torrent the greater his prudence and wisdom.
Westward of the Promontory range the part suffered much from thirst, and from inflammation of the eyes and partial blindness, caused by the intense glare of the sun upon the salt-incrusted plains. The only remedy to hand was to wear a handkerchief over the face all day.

Nearly all the streams running into the northwestern part of the lake are strongly saline, and this helps to account for the exceeding saltiness of the lake. All river water contains more or less salt, and if they flow into a lake without an outlet, constant evaporation, in course of time, removes the water and leaves all the salt. And when in addition, the inflowing streams are salty and salinity of the lake is proportionately increased.

It has been supposed by some that the lake has an outlet which disposes of the inflow from so many streams and rivers. But a moment’s reflection will enable any thinking person to see that the waters in such case, would be fresh instead of salty, as it must be if the water flowed away as fast as it flowed in—like any other great river or moving body of water.

On the western and northern sides of the lake it is very difficult to tell where the lake ends and the shore begins, on account of its exceeding flatness. For miles at a stretch along the shore, a rise of one foot in the waters of the lake would submerge the land westward for from six to ten miles, increasing by many square miles the area of the lake, and also its proportional evaporation. So it may easily be seen that when the streams are full by reason of rains or melting snows, their surplus waters spread over a vast additional area until a point is reached where evaporation equals the inflow and the waters spread no farther. And then, the unusual inflow having ceased, evaporation soon reduces the waters to their normal level.

To illustrate the enormous effect of evaporation, I will say that some few years ago the government entertained the idea of turning the Colorado River into the great California desert westward of Yuma, where a tract of many thousand square miles lies hundreds of feet below the level of the sea, and by thus making a large lake it was expected to modify the climate of that torrid region. After two years of very careful research and experiment, the engineers reported the scheme not feasible, because the river water would evaporate as fast as it entered the desert, and thus no lake could be formed at all. When we remember that the Colorado River contains much more water than all the rivers in Utah put together, we can understand better the capacity which a dry atmosphere has, to absorb moisture.

And this is how the calculations were made:--The velocity of the river in feet per second, multiplied by the area in square feet of a cross section of the river, gives the number of cubic feet of water per second supplied by the river. Broad flat troughs, of one hundred square feet area, were filled with water, and the time occupied in its evaporation showed the amount of water evaporated in a given time per square foot. A survey of the intended lake’s boundaries, gave its area, and thus it was easy to make the estimates required.
J. H. Martineau
Poems #1.
These are verses written to be sung to the Tune "Who Would Ever Think that Utah --" penned by James Henry Martineau about being called to go help in colonizing Arizona Tune, "Who Would Ever Think that Utah -- "
Chorus-
Hurrah, hurrah we are off to find a land-
Hurrah boys, hurrah we will face the drifting sand.
We will cross the barren Desert according to command,
And commence the mighty work in Arizona.
1- The Arizona Mission is the greatest subject out.
Those who are called to go should mind what they are about.
And after they arrive there, be sure they do not pout
For we want no drones in Arizona.

We started in the winter and it was very cold.
I am sure we never would have went had we not been told.
But to fulfill this mission we thought it was the best,
So we started on the road to Arizona.

There was a company called in 1873
To go and find the very place that we are called to go.
They must have got faint hearted or feared the Navajo,
And so they returned to Arizona.

One word to those who may come down; be sure you bring enough
Of flour, beans and bacon and other kinds of stuff.
For it youdo not do it you will find it rather tough --
Before you raise a crop in Arizona.

I now will tell you something I had very near forgot.
We are going to join the Order right from the very start.
We will all work together and each one do his part,
And establish unity in Arizona.

I would like to say another word if you won't think me bold.
It is about the rocks and the very crooked road.
And if you ever travel it I think you will find it so,
Like traveling around Jerusalem to get to Jericho.

We feel to thank the Lord for a man like Brother Brown.
To civilize the Indians before the Saints come down.
We pray that he may have good health and so continue on
In the great and mighty work in Arizona.

J. H. M. (My Grandpa Martineau)
Verses written to Mrs. Esther LeBaron By James Henry Martineau dated Aug 4, 1868
To Mrs. Esther LeBaron
From a friend

When the day seems long and dreary
When dark clouds o'erspread the sky
When the soul is worn and weary
Almost willing then to die;
Oh how sweet and bright the vision
Of the near Millennial ray,
Brightly shining in our prison
Hail the ressurrection day!

When the eye is red with weeping
And we breathe the heartfelt sigh
At the thought of loved ones sleeping
Far away -- and yet so nigh,
Oh how sweet the spirit whispers
"Cast the cares of life away
Soon will come the blessed morning
Of the resurrection day."

Oh how glad and sweet the meeting
On that bright celestial morn!
Friends, long severed, fondly greeting
Friends with hearts forever warm.
Infants then like cherubs shining
On a mother's bosom lay.
Round their necks their arms entwining --
Joyful ressurrection day!
Wives and husband reunited
Never more asunder torn;
Nevermore their love be blighted,
Nevermore their children mourn.
Wait we then in faith and meekness
While on earth we longer stay;
Soon we'll taste of life the sweetness
In the ressurrection day.

Salt Lake City
Aug. 4, 1868
J. H. Martineau
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Milwaukee Wisconsin.
Postmarked August 18, Elbridge, N.Y.)
Elbridge, September, 1848
Dear Brother:
I did not receive your letter until last night as I was not here when it came, but was absent at Victory whither I had accompanied little Charlie. You must have been terribly grieved and shocked at the intelligence of our dear and affectionate mother's death, now an inhabitant of that better world where she will no longer experience the woes of this life, although it was her lot to suffer all kinds of trials and tribulations here. It would have been a great consolation to you to have been near her in her last hours, to have seen her, to have breathed the same atmosphere, that was hallowed by the presence of our best friend, but her sickness was so short and her situation so peculiar that we could not send for you. Her death came upon me like the lightning stroke. It was stunning to see her taken away under such aggravating circumstances at the moment when I thought my wishes were about to be realized, to know that now I was an orphan. Of all our numerous family that a little more than one short year ago composed our family circle, only you and I and Loty are left to mourn almost exceeded my power of endurance. I feared I should not be able to support myself under such trying circumstances, but I am astonished at myself. I am supported beyond what I hoped for altogether.
We are left with nothing as it were but our own exertions to depend upon, but if we are blessed with health we shall get along somehow. The feeling that we have no home, no spot cheered by our mother's voice, or lighted by her smile, come over me at times, with an overwhelming force, and I can scarcely (be) able to realize or reconcile myself to my sad and lonely situation. If we could only have that little spot where we once lived so peacefully in our possession, I might then feel as though there was one spot where I might retire if anything should happen. Would you not rather it would be so? Grandpa's folks I suppose would have no objection to my living with them, but they are grown quite childish and I should have to put up with a great deal. I am very lonely here now and I wish you would come and make me a visit this fall. Travelling is so cheap and I want you should see _______ gather as willing to do about that house. There are but three left of us now you know, and we ought to see each other as often as we can, for we know not how soon we may be eternally separated.
I want you should write and tell me that you will come as soon as you receive this for then you can see Loty before she goes to live with Uncle William. Besides you ought to see how my health and spirits have improved. I am trying to exert all my energies, weakened as they are, to what they once were to bear up. Dear brother, do come.
I wrote to you two letters after you left -- one after Mother's death which I suppose you never received. We kept looking for you home all the time and can't give up but what you will come yet. All the folks are well I believe. This pen I can scarcely make a mark with so you must excuse the poor writing for it is all the fault of the pen. I remain your affectionate sister,
Henrietta
Write or come as soon as you get this if you please.
(copied from Page 165 and 166 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James Henry Martineau from his sister Henrietta Martineau

Elbridge 25 Jan. 1850
Dear Brother:
For a wonder I have got a short time at my disposal completely. That is, I have no compositions for next week to write, nor lesson for tomorrow to get, therefore I feel just like chatting with you for a little while this evening. What a blessed thing it is that there is a medium by which we can communicate our thoughts and feelings to each other, even though hundreds of miles separate us! As long as such a solace remains we are not utterly comfortless.
But how much better it would be if you were only here to go with me to the lecture this evening. It is a beautiful evening for a lecture, a clear sky and the moon pouring her full radiance on vale and hill, warm for the season. Mr. Sweet the Elocutionist, holds forth tonight and he will amuse his audience by imitations of all the most eloquent speakers of the country -- Clay, Webster, Calhoun and etc . . He has been teaching the Academie's the "Art of speaking the English Language with Propriety." -- So much for lecturing.
Last evening I attended a large Methodist donation party. A perfect jam and I had the misfortune to lose my superb pair of "Patent Metallic Rubbers" there. Bad luck to them that took them. I attended a large party at Mr. Mellens also this week, which was very pleasant. We are very busy preparing for Exhibition and I will tell you the subject of one of the Colloquys. "The Treason of Benedict Arnold" involving of course the capture of Andre and other incidents. There are to be six scenes and twelve actors in them -- six boys and six girls. Don't you think it will be a pretty good subject, if we can only succeed in getting them up. Of course you won't tell any one a word of this, such things should be kept secret you know.
We have visitors tonight -- Mr. And Mrs. Cram. The gentleman is rather famous for telling tough yarns, one of them merits the name of Fish Story. He says he and some other men fishing in Lake Champlain, caught a whale. Very likely don't you think so!
Sunday: Did not attend church today. Our house is converted into a perfect Castle of Indolence. So far it has been spent in lounging and reading, and as Sundays usually are spent when one does not go to church. You perhaps, having ridden ten miles (on that steed of yours you mentioned) to some schoolhouse, where all the good folks most do congregate. I should think you would be at a loss to fill up your time on Sundays (unless you should be courageous enough to visit some of those pretty girls, whose cause you so warmly defended in one of your letters.) I don't believe you have as good sleighrides out there aswe do here. Oh, we have had the neatest sleighing you ever saw and such beautiful cutters and four horse sleighs. But I won't tell you anything more about them for fear I should make you feel bad. But I'll proceed to give you all the items that I can rake and scrape up for your edification.
Firstly as regards health, we are all in usual health, Grandpa's and Grandma's especially. Lois is here attending school and I, -- the least I say about myself the better, except that I am learning to read and speak "Le Francois" -- (I should think you would learn something of it from the Frenchmen in Missouri.)
We have had letters from Uncle William dated Bermuda and St. Thomas, within a half a day's sail of Santa Cruz, his destined port. His health he thought, was improved by the climate so far. Whether it will eventually restore it remains to be seen. He has plenty of oranges and bananas, and while we are shivering with cold he is luxureating in a climate where the thermometer ranges from 80 to 82 degrees. I hope he will recover, but it is very doubtful.
Uncle James and family were well when last heard from, also Laura and John. I don't hear from her in a dog's age, do you? Nap Van Slyke has had a severe fit of sickness but is now recovered. He has sold his farm and nice house and is going in business somewhere else I expect. DeWitt still clerks here. He is a great favorite among the boys and girls. He has a lady-love among them I rather think, one of the best girls in the place -- Jane Van Auhten. Did you used to know her?
I thought I had written you where Uncle Sherwin's folks had gone. Their address is Coral McHenry Co., Illinois, about 80 miles from Milwaukie. I am expecting to hear from them daily. They do not write very often. We have not heard from them in a long time. Aunt Mary not long since, was actively engaged in charitable deeds and alms-giving, attending parties and receiving calls, etc. and etc. .
Now, Jim, comes the rub! We received your letter in which you stated that you thought of going to the Military School in Kentucky. We were all pleased with the idea and Grandma said she knew you could, if you would think so. I should rather you would be an engineer than a soldier, for their business is to kill people. If you could not raise money any other way for the purpose, try Uncle Charles. They say he is doing well in New Albany. Are you not worth $160.00? Oh, Jimmie Martineau, I do wish we both of us had $5000.00 a piece! That is all I'd ask. Would it not satisfy you -- and then how many vexations we should be rid of -- Perhaps only to have new ones in their place. I should like to try it once, would not you?
Did you get the paper I sent you two or three weeks ago? Now for this must. Now answer instantly or you will repent in sackcloth and ashes. You need not fear writing too long letters. It pleased Grandma where you wrote you wished you know how to dance. If you were here you might have perfect opportunities for tripping on the light fantastic too. Lois Ellen sends her love to you and so does you
Affectionate Sister, Henrietta

(copied from Page 167, 168 and 169 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James Henry Martineau from his sister Henrietta Martineau in Elbridge, N.Y.
Elbridge March 24th, 1850
Dear Bub:
Your last letter was five whole weeks coming here and you may be sure by that time I had become quite anxious about you. Grandma and I both came to the conclusion that you had either gone to California or was devoured by the wolves. But one day there came to the office a letter postmarked "Missouri" and after a hasty perusal away flew all doubts as to your being in the land of the living, though you did not say you were coming here this summer, which was a little disappointing. Neither did you say whether you had done well in your school, or whether you owned your horse yet or not. If you have anything agreeable or pleasant to tell a body, for goodness sakes, don't withhold it. There are few enough gleams of sunshine on my narrow horizon now to make me solemcholly sometimes though. I will say for myself I look at the sunny side of things as much as I can.
Do you blame me for wanting to live somewhere else than Elbridge? It holds the grave of our Mother, and on that account will always be a sacred spot to me. But I am tired of the Elbridgeites. I want to know some other people. I want a change (small change would not come amiss). Think how little I see of the world. Of the comical beings who dwell therein. I would like to spend one winter in Milwaukie and I believe I must iff I can make a raise of the rhino -- what think you of it? I doubt whether Grandpa & Ma keep house longer than next fall, and then I may as well be there as any where. There is a great deal of Mother's furniture that I don't know what to do with. Where did you get the idea that I possessed such unbounded influence over the "Governor"? That's as we used to call him. He is a very selfish man and consults his own interests above all others. We have had some talk about our place. He wants the money for the rent but said he would share with me. Now if I was sure the place belonged to us I would have further confab with him and see what I could get out of him. Every one says he has no manner of right to it but what avails right against might! I would prefer to have the place sold, the mortgage paid and the rest divided among us four children. About a hundred dollars apiece. At present the house is in such a dilapidated condition that it would not sell for much.
Today is one of the most disagreeable kind! Snowing and blowing at a time when spring is generally bestirring herself and clothing the trees and fields with a mantle of green, or in other words, spring is very backward this year. I never before longed for the return of Sweet Spring but on the contrary have always been sorry when Old Winter terminated his reign. We have had a long, and very disagreeable winter, a great deal of bad weather especially Sundays. But enough of this. I will leave it to farmers to grumble at the weather for I know there is a good time coming.
We have had several letters from Uncle William since he has been at Santa Cruz. All of which contain the cheering intelligence of his improving health and strength. What wonders a warm climate have already done or worked in his condition! He is now able to walk and ride several miles at a time without much fatigue, and gains in strength and flesh daily. He thinks if he continues to improve he will be able to return in June. Uncle James has lost his little baby boy -- James R. Mears. Leona and John are well. John has bought a house and is Postmaster besides. Nap has sold his farm and is going to live at Salina this spring. He had a very nice place at Semnitt. The rest of us are in usual health at present "hoping these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessing."
Grandpa and Ma would like to see you very much. Grandpa takes as much interest in politics as usual. The slavery question serves to keep an excitement in the minds of the big bugs at Washington, and they in turn make big speeches which none but a politician would wade through. Webster he considers the best as being the most solid in argument and peaceful in its whole tenor. What think you of dissolving the Union? Do you suppose it will ever be done?
I think it is quite time you should describe to me some of those Western beauties! I expect you have long ago singled out one as the object of your devotion as all true knights are bound to do. If there are any such, you may if you please give her my respects and tell her I wish I was there to ride on horseback too. Is there any Daguerretypist in Rochester? I should like to see your Daguerrotype now and see how much you have altered. I think yours is one of the best I ever saw, much better than common.
I have just come from Mrs. Rice's. William showed me the plan for his new house, a Gothic cottage which he is going to build of carpenter's brick. He is not married yet and don't know when he will ever be. Such a consummation is devout -- to be wished.
We had a letter from Aunt Mary two or three days ago. They were all well there and in good spirits, though Uncle Peter does not think of building his houses this year. When will he build them!
Now James H. are you fast asleep reading this prosy epistle? If you are not, I am so I'll e'en lay down my pen with the injunction not to wait so long before you write again. Lois and all send their love to you, as does you
Affectionate sister, Henrietta


(copied from Page 170, and 171 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah.
From his sister Henrietta Martineau written Dec 19th, 1850 from New Albany, N.Y.

New Albany Dec. 19th, 1850
Dear Bub:
Your most welcome and long looked for letter reached me some time ago, and has remained unanswered longer than I intended it should. But I have been very busy making up my winter rig, for albeit we are in what they call a Southern latitude, I find it quite essential to have warm comfortable clothing here as in Old York State. Indeed within the last three days we have had it war, very cold, and comfortable, and in the "Sweet Southwest" it gives promise of rain. "Retoroune a' sois montous" which being translated meaneth "Let us return to our subject", ie myself and affairs vastly entertaining to myself. Of course, and I flatter myself not uninteresting altogether to you. They think I am a right smart Yankee girl here! Think I can do almost anything. And indeed I have pretty well earned that since I have been here, having to turn my hand to almost everything to get along. Board is high and my salary is not, so in order to make both ends meet I am obliged to economize closely. They promise me something better next year so by the time you come along sometime in July, I shall be ready to go East, West, North or South, just whichever you say. But mind, don't you bring only one wife with you (that is the orthodox number with us you know) or else I will call you Father Abraham. Besides I never will own but Sarah Ellen (sic: Susan Ellen) for a sister if you should have as many as Solomon did, sinner that he was. You have heard that there can be too much of a good thing, even so would it be with more than one wife. Heavens, what a goose you are to be making a Heathen of yourself out there in Utah when you might be somebody here where folks know you and love you.
To give you a few of the items of news that have transpired within the year. Our folks are pretty much all at the West now. Uncle James and Uncle Peter in Wisconsin, DeWitt, Mary, Netta and Aunt Harriet in Illinois. And next year Uncle William will be too I expect, if he lives. His health is you know, very wretched. The Old Homestead is vacant. Grandpa & Ma are at present at Uncle Williams's with Lotie. Oh dear Old Home! How can we let thee go to other hands. But soon, aye even now, the Mears tribe belongs no more to old Elbridge. Oh no! There is a goodly part left in the "burying ground." All but our sister Fanny have something to mark the spot where their ashes repose, and she has nothing. Can we not do something about it? Oh how vividly does the dreary past come up now, of the dearly loved Mother and sisters now gone! Have you forgotten them? It seems to me I think more than ever now that I am alone. If you would only come how much good it would do me. Will you not come! I am going to expect you confidently, so don't disappoint me, please.

So Sarah Ellen (sic: Susan Ellen) thinks I would cover you with kisses, and so I would too I expect, that is if you did not object. Just come out here once and see what I would do to you.
You with all your lately acquired dignity of Schoolmaster, Clerk, Justice, and least, Preacher -- why don't you make them pay you something for your sermons. The Mormons are rich enough surely. Do you take any newspapers at Salt Lake City? Do you know anything that is going on? About the magnificent railroads that cross the country in all directions? What think you of the one from Minnesota to New Orleans. Grand is it now! Would you like me to send you a paper sometimes? If you would I can easily send you some. You will soon have plenty of leisure to read if you care to.
How comes on the Indians now a days? Poor Root Diggers -- debased body and soul. You say you shoot them sometimes. Have you ever killed one? It is a dreadful thing to kill or take human life even when necessary, and I suppose likely they are very troublesome. But I can never blame Indians for being so. They are generally speaking, not treated fairly I believe, and they will have their revenge. What are you about at present? Tell me your plans present and future, and what you do and are doing now. You will find me indulgent I dare say. All except so many wives. You cannot tell how my heart sank when you've spoken of them. How can you so far forget yourself? Oh! I beseech you commit not that awful sin! Plead not Abraham as an excuse! He lived in a barbarious age, and are you going to put your morals on a par with those ancient worthless and with all the uncivilized nations of the world! Oh my brother, hear me in this respect. Rather would I never see your face again dear as you are, than to think of you being sunk so low. By all you love and respect in your Mother and sisters, keep yourself pure. Respect is the true and solid foundation of love. How can you love one you do not respect and how could you respect a woman who would consent to share divided affection! Indeed there is no affection in the case. Write and tell me you will abide by laws of God and Man and make me happy.
I like your description of my future husband. How did you happen to fit my taste so exactly? Write me something more about him that I may know him when I see him for I have not yet. Loty was well when last heard from. She writes a very pretty letter. How can you stay away so long from us, for we are nice girls and you need not be ashamed of us. Write soon and believe me
Your ever affectionate sister,
Harriet Martineau

(copied from Page 172 and 173 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah. From his sister Henrietta Martineau dated 22 June 1851, Fultonville, (New York area?)
Fultonville 22 June 1851
My dear, dear brother:
You will see by the date of this that I am domiciled at Fullerton at present, writing at your cousin's Laura Stanton. I came down here last Wednesday with Aunt Mary, to see Lois most particularly. It costs only $5.00 to go and come on the cars, so I thought I might venture to appropriate so much to traveling. How glad I was to see a letter from you once more and to hear that you were well again. I began to think those horrid Indians had killed you or that you were eaten up by the Grizzlies or something else. But a sight of the well known writing relieved my anxieties in a measure. How I am going to get all I want to say to you into one letter I don't know, but if one sheet won't do another will. I was surprised to find you still at the Salt Lake among the Mormons. I hope you will not become infected with any of their notions. Enterprising, intelligent and energetic, they doubtless are, but they are also far from being right in a religious or moral point of view. Our folks are terrible afraid you will be a Mormon, indeed they think you are already but I do not. The idea of your settling there, down so far away from all civilization (don't be mad) we did not relish much of course, but if you have or can get a nice farm, I shall be satisfied. I do want you to get rich and you want to too, don't you?
Nap is well off and DeWitt is doing well and thinks of studying medicine, so of course it is natural for me to be very anxious for you. I have a plan in my head which is this, to help pay off the mortgage on Ma's place in Elbridge. It amounts to $275.00 which leaves $19.00 interest to pay every year, and then we should have a nice little homestead of our own. You know that the "governor" of and for the consideration of the sixty dollars sold his right to it and Nap and Uncle William stand ready to advance the sum due on the place if there is any danger of Judge Brown's closing the mortgage. If you could only pay up the mortgage and take the place in your own name instead of calling on them it would be much better. Don't you think so? I feel very anxious to keep it in our hands for it is something to have of our own and it's such a pretty place.
About that place or farm of yours in Salt Lake. Is it only in perspective or have you got it in actual possession? You spoke of making it. Did you mean by that, clearing it off and so obtaining it? In your next letter you must tell me all about it so that I can see whether I shall like it or not. I am more ready to go there than you might think, my dear Bub.
I expect Grandma and Grandpa will go and live with Uncle Chauncey next fall. In that case I shall I suppose, go to Milwaukie. I do not like much to ask a home with Uncle Peter. I have an idea that he is pretty close. He calls himself worth $30,000 but he wrote to Aunt Mary a few days ago that he should like me to live with him, but he did not know how to spare the money to pay the passage for me out there. If I go I shall pay my own way and support myself when I get there. Do write and tell me what it is I must do, as soon as you get this. Uncle William's health is very poor. He intends living at the south after this summer as he cannot endure the severity of our seasons. Loty is with him yet. She is a good girl and attracts general attention by her uncommonly pretty and expressive intelligent face. She is one of the shyest, bashful and most sensitive of children, an organization the most unfortunate in the world, don't you think so?
I wonder how it looks where you are now. It is so beautiful here. Everything is so green and fresh, especially here in the lovely valley of the Mohawk. We walked last night by its banks until the pattering rain drops warned us to leave romancing unless we wanted a damper put on our "lucubrations". I am quite familiar with your place of residence, more so than you imagine I guess. I have read Col. Fremont's travels to the Salt Lake and Bear River twice, with Lieut. Emory's journey round the Southern point of the Great Basin, beside a great many sketches in the papers. I have camped after night on the Platte at Fort Laramie, Chimney Rock, Independence Rock, crossed the Rocky Mountains at the South Pass, explored the highest peaks of the same, got overtaken by the winter in the Sierra Navada and after incredible dangers and fatigues, arrived at Captain Sutter's farm. I have followed the sluggish waters of Bear River to its mouth and spent a night on one of the many inlets that dot the vast and desolate expanse of Salt Lake and finally returned home across the desert.
There was one part of your letter that pleased me very much, that part where you spoke of coming home in a year or two. (Don't forget now.) A year seems a good while to wait, but I will patiently if you will only come at the end of that time. You don't know how much we all want to see you, me especially. I do so much need you to advise and lecture me sometimes when I don't do right, which is often enough mercy knows. Do you see these two blots? You never blot your letters, but this time my pen was too full and the consequence was the aforesaid beauty spot.
Now I am going to tell you all the news I can think of. Miss Henrietta Pool is married to Mr. Charles Fillmore, all of Coral. And Mary is about to marry a Mr. Stewart. So we shall have a Mary Stewart when she gets married. And Angeline too, has left the ranks of single blessedness.
Don't you remember the picture in our old comic Almanac of two girls with each a trunk and band-box, hurrying along for dear life for Illinois on the "Marriage Stage"? It was a match for your "Here Sal, hold my tares". Will Rice is married at last to a Miss Healy of Dennitt and has got to keeping house on the banks, not of Allan Water but of Carpenter's Brook. It is sagely opinioned that you have taken a wife, one of those Mormons. Come now, be frank, have you fallen in love with any of them or they with you? I think you pretty good looking but somehow I never thought you cared much for girls. Do let us know all about it. Nat rather you would marry a Spanish lady than any of the Mormons. You are not one are you? Do write soon and tell me you are not. Can you send me your photograph by mail? Are you not curious to know how I look by this time? I wish I could send you Loty's and mine -- we are such nice girls. I want you to answer this without fail and don't forget to tell me how large your farm is and all about your dear self.
Affectionately,
Henrietta
(copied from Page 174, 175 and 176 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau dated 2 February, 1852, New Albany, N.Y.

New Albany 2 February, 1852
Dear Bub:
Your last letter reached me last December and I am about to give you a reply, though if I could once get at you bodily, wouldn't I shake you. I am tired of writing letters to you. I want to see you very much -- very much! I read your letter three times over to be quite sure that you said you would come home next year. I shall stick you to it Bub, and this is the way we must manage the business. I have told you how I happened to come out to the Western Country. I came to stay with Uncle Charles a year. But I did not like to stay with him and in consequence I accepted the post of teacher in one of the large Public schools in the city, at four dollars a month. Board is high and it will take all I can earn to live I expect, but who cares for that! I at least am my own mistress and need now be snubbed by my relations as often as I have been. I have refrained from speaking of my troubles in that line to you but nevertheless, they have existed. I knew you could not help me any and therefore bore them as well as I could until I could do something for myself. But this is beginning widely from the point. I expect to remain in my present situation until July when the long vacation begins, seven weeks I believe. Now you must come along about that time and we will go together to the East. Traveling is not so expensive now as it used to be. You go from here to New York City for $18.00, about 1200 miles I believe, and that too in three days! You absolutely must come, so make your calculations to that effect will you?
I was so glad to hear you were doing well and farming too. How large is your farm, and who keeps house for you? In one of your letters you spoke of getting married. "Wait a little longer" until you have made us a visit at least, for if you should once get spliced there it would be all over about coming out here. I have set my heart on your having one of those pretty Spanish girls. How is it -- don't you see anyone to fall in love with? You must tell me all about your (heart) affairs. There is nothing like confidence in such cases. As for me, I am falling in and out of love constantly. My last flame was a French gentleman with whom I danced four times last Thursday night, and who is (to me at least) among the things that were, so you see how my fancies are. There is nothing I love to do so well as to dance. I am glad the Mormons allow it for your sake.
I am afraid this letter will be destitute of interest to you in as much as I have no news of importance to write. At the last accounts from Old York State, they were all well and jogging along at the old rate. Nap Van Slyke is engaged in the salt business at Salina and says he is going to write you soon. He is a good cousin to me and so is DeWitt. DeWitt has left Elbridge for good. He starts for California this month some time. He will try and see you if possible. I gave him your address in hopes you might meet him somewhere. He is determined to get rich there somehow. Grandpa and Ma are going to live with Uncle Chauncey next spring they say. Lois is going to stay with them this winter and go to school. She writes me sometimes very pretty letters. William nor his wife do not love her much, and keep her entirely out of duty. She is a sensitive affectionate child but they don't understand her. They would like her better if she were not so timid and retiring. She never will appease herself as long as she is with them.
Uncle William's health is about the same as usual. He is endeavoring to find a location for business at the South somewhere. Laura Stain has two children, a boy and a girl. They are getting along finely in the world. I believe I forgot to tell you what sort of a school I have. I am Monarch of all I survey -- over fifty boys -- that is pretty well is it not? Aunt Mary wrote me about a month since. Uncle Peter's health was quite poor, she seemed to feel concerned about him. Uncle Peter has never offered to befriend me or Lois, although he could have done it without hurting himself. They have Alice Abrams with them.
I have caused a neat stone to be placed at our Mother's grave with the simple words "Our Mother" on it. Perhaps I have told you of it before. I sometimes write things over to you for fear you may not get my letters. Do you hear anything about Roseuth where you are? He is making quite a commotion all over the country. I suppose of course you must get papers from the States, as well as letters. They are to have a World's Fair next summer at New York. What can you bring? A Shoshonee scalp? Or a bride? What makes you think you will be any safer in the Mormon City than any where else? Do you think them any better people than Christians? I do not fear any such terrible events as you write. There has always been wars and commotion and always will be as long as the world stands. I am as safe in one place as in another, especially if found doing my duty.
So you have been casting your horoscope have you? Lois was born August 10, 1839 and I was born October 18, 1825, on a Thursday -- further deponent saith no. And my dear Bub, I must draw this to a close. I shall live in hopes to see you next summer without fail. Bring me some curiousities then, but the greatest of all will be your dear self and believe me,
Always your affectionate sister,
Netta.
Of course you will write me very soon. I always read your letters three times over. Good night and Heaven Bless you,
Sister Nett.
No Address & no date, Only last page of a letter from his sister Lois

No address and no date.
Last page of letter.
Are you not getting tired of my nonsence? I often amuse myself wishing I could meet you on the street sometime. I shall keep looking for you until you come, if I live to be a hundred years old. If you will come I will try and get married to please you. But when I will find a person to suit me I don't know. Consult the stars for me Mr. Astrologer -- perhaps it will assist me in my choice of a companion.
You have asked me before to tell you the hour and minute of our births. I do not know any more than the man in the moon. I was born August 10th, 1838 -- what day, hour and minute I cannot tell you. The only one who could inform upon that subject is no more. Why are you so anxious to know? What are you thinking of? The future is known only to our Creator and Lord of our lives. Can any human creature pretend to open the pages of the future and read therefrom? I trust not.
But I will not inflict much more upon you. I am discouraged trying to send you any papers or magazines. You don't get them. Do not fail to write me soon. Susan must not take it amiss I do not write her. I am not acquainted with her yet. Dear Jim -- all the folks would be delighted to see you once more. Write soon. Heaven grant you health and kife and that you may return soon to home and friends.
And believe me your affectionate sister,
Lois
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau dated October 3rd, 1852, New Albany, N.Y. New Albany October 3rd, 1852 Dear Bub:
Your most welcome letter reached me some time since, while I was at Elbridge visiting during vacation and was eagerly penzell by those dear eyes that you never will see again. I mean Grandpa and Grandma. They have got so old now that there is not much prospect that you will ever see them again unless you should come next year. You have friends yet in Old Elbridge who though they mourn to see you so infatuated, still cherish fond remembrance of you, far off though you be. Oh my dear brother! How could you ever become a Mormon? If you were anywhere else but there I would not hesitate to go to you, how happy I could be to be with you, if you had not changed your faith. Oh do not stay there! Go to California, Oregon, anywhere but among the Mormons. But enough of this. I will not trouble you with my regrets since you must know all I feel and will pass to what will be more entertaining to you.
To begin at the beginning. After seven or eight months confinement in school we all had a vacation of about two months. I had not anticipated going home unless you had come to accompany me, this summer, thinking I could not afford to, but my health became miserable during the warm weather so that I thought it advisable to try the effect of a journey home, blessed word, and see if it would not restore me. I found them in pretty good health and spirits. Uncle William seemed quite well for him. But many and sad are the changes going on in Elbridge. The old homestead is going to be sold and our folks are to go and live with some of their children this fall. Our place is gone too. Deacon Campbell got it for $550.00. Old Judge Brown died and so they foreclosed the mortgage, and no one coming to save it, it went to the highest bidder. There will be about $215.00 left to be divided between you and I, Loty and Charley, whenever Mr. Babcock dies, a far off contingency, until which event the money is to be put to interest.
Elbridge has become a waste place (or soon will be). To you it lost it's charm long ago I suppose, but it will always be a sacred spot to me. When you are able, you must come home and we will make a pilgrimage to our Mother's grave, sad word, but every day presses home to me the thought, they have gone to the land of the blest, and I know they are happy. You too, who might be such a solace to me, are thousands of miles away. You shall come back. You shant stay there. Come and live in Minnesota and I'll go too. You don't say a word about that wife of yours. I do not even know her name. Do pray tell me something about her or what will be better, let her speak for herself next time you write. If I were to see her I have no doubt I should like her directly. You and the (let me see what shall I call her -- Fanny -- I guess) are farmers, are you? I don't think your possessions are very large, only ten acres, and I cannot understand how you can make any money off from Utah. Just add on another ten for me if you please and make lots of money so that you can come next year. It is not dear traveling in the States now, railroads cross the country in all directions and the facilities for getting to different places are very great. I do not think a visit would cost you more than $200.00, wife and all. Traveling on the railroad is 2 1/2 cents a mile and steamboat the same or even less.
DeWitt has given up going to California for the present and is at Fultonville. Uncle James has gone to Wisconsin to live at Madison, the capitol of the state, near by where your Soldier Grant was. Uncle William too, is thinking of migrating and soon there will be none of the Mears tribe in Old York State. Uncle Charles has been very meanly to me. When I am alone in the City of New Albany, a thousand miles from any kin, left to take care of myself, uncles are not of much account. Uncle Peter is worth 40 thousand everyone says, but do you think he'll help us any? Not he. But bless him. Let him go I say, don't you? Nap Van Slyke is doing very well in business too. He lives in Syracuse. Uncle Chauncey's folks are farming yet but there is a likelihood of their going West too, sometime. So you see we are getting to be in favor of the West, even Grandpa and Grandma. They think perhaps they may go too some day. Oh, dear old Grandparents! How dear and good they are! How I wish they could live with me. Don't think by that last speech that I am going to be married, that is not the case, though a widower of thirty-five would now like to carry me off lately. I take great pleasure in my school at present. It is large, about sixty scholars and all boys. If I were to go to California I should establish a school, what do you think of that?
Don't you want to hear something about Loty-Poty? She is just fourteen in August and is right pretty and of an amiable disposition. She has made pretty good advances in her study. Learns very easy and is fond of reading, especially histories. I think Uncle William and Jenny like her very well now, though they did not use to. She is very sensitive and delicate and they cannot understand all her feelings. They used to be stern to her but I believe they love her better now. But I think you ought to come and see us, your sisters. I will get my Daguerrotype taken and send it to you as soon as I can. If you think you'd ever get it. I suppose there are no such things as Daguerrotypes where you are. I have yours with me and I often look at it and wonder what you are doing and wish I could see you. You must tell "Fanny" (my name for your wife) that she must help you get ready to come and make us a visit as soon as next year. To be sure I don't know how you are going to get money to come with, if there is none there, but trust there be some by next summer. I wish you would write me soon and tell me all about yourself and Fanny, how you get along keeping house, etc.. By the way would you not like some flap-jacks and maple molasses for supper? But I suppose you would prefer bear, or Indian. For mercy sake keep out of the way of the "red varmints". Take care of yourself and write often and don't forget your sister Nett of Hoosierdom.
Good bye Bub James H. Sister Nettie

(copied from Page 180,181 and 182 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated June 6, 1853, New Albany, N.Y.
New Albany June 6, 1853
Dear Jim:
I received your letter dated May 1st about a week ago, and also the other two directed to Elbridge after I had began to despair of ever hearing from your worship again. But those made ammends for your long silence. And so you have taken to yourself a wife, my Laddie. Oh! If you had only been among folks, what a nice wedding we would have had, and how cordially your bride would have been welcomed by her sisters. And now of course you have given up coming to see them and they must be content not to see you ever again perhaps.
I had been so sure you would come this summer that I had made my calculations to go East with you when you came, and had anticipated a great deal of pleasure visiting with you. But I must forego them now. Your absence has been a great trial always and not least of the many troubles that almost crushed me for a time. But they have passed and whatever else is in store for me I shall hope to bear with submission.
To change this dull strain, let me ask why in the name of sense you did not tell me my new sister's name. What can it be? I like your portrait of her very much and expect I should like the original equally as well could I ever get to see her. You spoke of my Daguerrotype. I thought of sending it to you long ago, but also thought if it were not worth asking for, it was not worth having. You don't deserve to have it though for your naughtyness in staying away off there in that horrid country. If there had not been so many Mormons there I would willingly have gone and lived with you in that otherwise beautiful country. I call it horrid because you stopped there and changed your faith.
I am glad you took my talk to you in good part. I had no idea of scolding and you will forgive me if I hurt your feelings, but you hurt mine most scandalously! How could you Brother, get so warped around? Don't you know Joe Smith was born and brought up in Palmyra, not more than thirty miles from Grandpa's and that his character was well known about there. The worst feature of the Mormons appears to me to be their resistance to all law and order. As long as they lived in the States they should have obeyed the laws of the country and state in which they lived. If they were in Europe they should obey there the same. The Mormons in Illinois committed misdemeanors against the law, and as they resisted altogether, they were driven from the country. And I am sure I wish they had been in ________ before they had got you among them. A few remarks more (you will kill me) Joe Smith was no more a prophet than you are -- no prophet at all! You are not sure. And all those dreadful things you in all kindness warned me of, I fear not. Whatever calamities befall the nations of the earth, the Mormons will not be exempt. Our Heavenly Father only knows what is going to happen to us and I am willing to trust in him. Do not feel offended at the freedom with which I have spoken my sentiments. You have judged rightly that my affection for you cannot change, however widely our view of things may differ, and though hundreds of miles intervene, there is one who remembers you in her morning and evening prayers.
I think a little of your pure fresh air that you brag about so much, would have a tendency to bring more of the rose to my cheek and give me vigor. If I could only have a pony to ride every day I believe I should get strong again.
Did I tell you I was teaching in New Albany? Fifty scholars, all boys too! I suppose I did, for I am always talking about myself. I like New Albany very much. And if I had robust health, should enjoy myself very much. I hear quite often from our friends. They were in usual health except Uncle William who is quite wretched. Grandma and Grandpa were still at the Old Hive as we all call it. The old mare and cat were in tolerable preservation. Old Mr. Sawdy and old Judge Brown are gone to the graveyard. The tollgate is moved to the other side of the road. These are the greatest changes I know of in our little town, unless you except Ann Rice's marriage to Harris West. You remember Ann, Fanny's playmate. Will Rice lost a barn full of grain this winter, loss $500.00 I am glad you are a farmer though your farm is a small one, I suppose.
How comes it that you had so few house keeping articles? What upon earth do you do with so few? You ought to come and get some of the chairs and tables that are now lying almost useless at Grandpa's. You know you have a bed there. One word in regard to my dinning letters. You must have thought my request very modest -- two hundred dollars, but I asked you rather than ask any of my uncles, not knowing how scarce the "needful" was where you live. I felt anxious to keep the place if I could and knew you would be willing to assist if you could. Now I expect it will be sold.
Well Jim Henry, I hope this will find you well and happy, and attended by the greatest blessings of life, health, and contentment. Say to your wife for me I hope to make her acquaintance sometime or other and until I do so, she will accept my best love and good wishes, as must you also. One word more Bub -- (please be satisfied with one wife won't you). I hear Brigham Young has 94 -- the horrid wretch! Do write me very soon. Enclosed are some Post Office stamps. Use them on your letters. Good bye dear brother and sister. And believe me as ever,
Your affectionate sis Nettie.
(copied from Page 183 and 184 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated 4 July 1853, New Albany, N.Y.
New Albany 4 July 1853
Dear Bub:
This is the anniversary of our glorious Independence you will perceive. A day which all good citizens are duly bound to celebrate with hearty zeal and patriotism. How is it with you my good brother? Do you feel any heart-throbs when you think of our grand noble country, what She is, and what she is determined to be way down in Salt Lake Valley? I sincerely hope Brigham Young will order a few cannons to be fired and offer a few patriotic toasts on the occasion. As for me, my blood is nearly boiling now, not with zeal for my country exactly, but with the oppressive heat. I expect the thermometer is nearly to 100 degrees fahrenheit and scarcely a breath of air stirring. Last night we had a shower, the first (except a sprinkle) that we have had in about eight weeks. You may picture to yourself the state of vegetation and the dusty state of the roads. But dry, hot and dusty as it is, I still propose to start on my homeward journey day after tomorrow if nothing happens to prevent. Will go to Medina, New York where I am in hopes to meet Loty, Uncle William and all Uncle Chauncey's folks. Don't you wish you were going to? Would you not like to see them all again? But strange to say, I am not jumping for joy -- I love my relatives well I know, and Loty is dear as the apple of my eye, but still I am perfectly tranquil. The fact is, when I was ill and crushed to earth with various griefs and troubles, they did not always treat me as kindly as they ought to.
How strange it is that the more unprotected and in want of friends you are, the less you have. But it is the way of all. They did not mean to hurt my feelings but thought beggars must not be choosers. I do fervently hope that I may never need any assistance from them. Dependence is dreadful. Being sick I could do nothing much for myself and feeling and knowing I could not, weighed my spirits to the ground. However, I know they love me well enough, only I shall try and never ask them many favors.
Did you receive the letter I wrote you in May? Only think I had not heard from you in so many months I was nearly frightened to death. And then too, to think of being an Aunt! Pray how did you come to call the little fellow Henry Augustus? If it had been Charles Augustus it would have been after your own little brother who would be now about twenty-three. However, it pleases me tolerably well, though I like plain short names most generally. Don't you remember how you used to hate babies! I fancy the time is changed now, but don't get to thinking he beats all creation because Mary Pool Stewart thinks hers caps the world, and cousins must not quarrel. Oh mercy, how can you think of bringing up the baby out there? It ought to be where some of it's aunts and cousins could pet it and stuff themselves with thinking there was never such another. However, you must bring him out here. If you want an excuse from Brigham Young, tell him you are going on a Mission to it's Heathen Aunts. I am only joking, mind. But you do seem to think us all a set of poor jungle heathens upon whom the wrath of God is just about to descend. No such thing brother mine. I am more afraid for you than for myself. What do you think? I expect to go to Niagara Falls on my way home. It will cost but a trifle and after all, how can we spend our money better than to view Nature in her grandeur and beauty.
You have written me quite glowing descriptions of your itinerary, for I suppose you consider yourself quite identified with Salt Lake. You must be quite a man among them to hold so many offices as you do. I am glad they duly appreciate you. I wish you were a farmer in Oregon, and then I would come and buy a farm and settle down by you. I like Oregon and Minnesota very much -- (you know I am so well acquainted with the country -- by report).
There is now quite a settlement of the Mears tribe in Wisconsin. Do dear brother pull up stakes and come and be one of us, for I expect in time and if I live that long, I shall be there too. Oh do come, we want you so much to fill up the link that is now wanting in the family chain. Come and be a farmer Bub. Oh do. I know you would like it as well there a in the place where you are now. It is no use for Loty to think of coming or me either, for how could we get there without somebody with us? We will try and wait with patience until you get ready to come and see us and then -- we will keep you here.
Don't you wonder that I should make use of a greasy sheet of paper to write you on? The reason is, first it was large, second it was thin and I thought it would just about hold all I have got to say, and yet so far, I realize this is a dreadfully dull letter. Shall I tell you something about myself? Well then, I am very thin, weigh only 102, whereas my usual weight even in summer has heretofore been 116 or 17. The hot weather, close teaching and chronic diarrhea have continued to make me quite lazy. By the way, did you ever hear of a cure for that complaint? I have had it a year. I do not take much medicine but diet for it. If you can tell me anything about it, any alleviation or mayhap cure I wish you would tell me in your next letter. If it were not for that I should be quite well I think, but that is enough to pull me down.
I get about $234.00 for teaching this summer, thirty four dollars more than I had last year. I expect to teach here when I come back, what salary I shall get I don't know, as they intend making some changes among the teachers. I enjoy myself tolerably well, am acquainted with some nice gentlemen and have many pleasant lady acquaintances. We had Baynes Panorama of "A Voyage to Europe" here lately. He was excellent and was almost as good as an actual voyage. Then we have had Gottschalk, the American Pianist here too. Such playing you never saw, that is, his genius all appeared to lay in the ends of his fingers. Our town is very staid and nothing scarcely happens to disturb the good people in their money-making means. There have been great revivals in religion here among all churches. Many have joined, among them your sister Henrietta, from a conviction of duty. I have selected the Episcopal Church, not that I think it faultless but it suited me best. Do you wish me joy? I must close. Tell me all about the baby and tell Susan not to suffer any other woman to share your affection, but as a woman I want Susan to stand up for her rights. Give her my love, kiss Henry for me and remember me always as
Your ever affectionate sister
Henrietta
(copied from Page 185 and 186 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated Sept 11, 1852, New Albany, N.Y. New Albany Sept 11, 1852
Dearest brother:
With your letter of June 16th lying before me which I received yesterday, nearly three months after you had written it, I sit down, Sunday though it is, to answer it. Glad was I to hear from you once more, and that you and family were well likewise, and what is more, content and happy. It is a great thing to be both is it not? Well, I have just returned from a two months visit to Uncle Chauncey's at Medina, new York. I had the pleasure of seeing our dear old grandparents, Uncle William, Jenny, Lois, Maria, John Henry, Almira and all the rest of the cousins that you know nothing about, I suppose. Ah, how much pleasure you deprive yourself of, I think. True you have a wife and child but then you have natural ties that never can be sundered. Do you know I never sit down to write you but I feel just like crying a bushel or two of tears, to think that almost all the brother I have got, thinks he must stay away from his sisters so far? We had a nice time visiting together. I assure you poor wandering boy, you were affectionately inquired about and lamented over. You are not forgotten by anyone. Nap you say, has written you as he told me he should. Answer his letters please, but do not say much about Mormons or Mormonism to him.
Never was the aspect of affairs more interesting than at present. Russia going to war with the Turks because the aforesaid Turks will not give up their religion, and worship with the Turk Church as the Czar does. (This has now all blown over and the peace of Europe is undisturbed). And the Chinese, the imperturbable Chinese are up in arms to overthrow the Taster dynasty, and with some prospect of success too. Everywhere knowledge is progressing and science and art are lifting up their heads proudly. Railroads in Africa and India. Turkey and Italy are doing wonders toward diffusing abroad the spirit of knowledge and friendship. There are no such horrid convulsions as you speak of, that I can hear of.
And one thing I am glad of and that is that you do not get angry with me when I tell you my mind. The fact is it is a sore point with me and I am apt to speak what comes into my mind though at the same time I do not feel any anger towards you or your sect, but as it appears to me so I speak. I wish you could see with different eyes than what you do now. With right principles grafted in you, you being young, ardent, adventurous, fond of novelty, anything in fact different from the old mode -- afar from all the influence of home, thrown among people professing so much -- sociality and freedom, you have imbibed their tenets. I do hope you may yet be restored to the society of friends, and become an honor to them. You call this kind of reasoning persecution -- all the Mormons seem to glory in the idea of suffering for the cause. It is that that binds you so closely together.
Well, I have once more got to teaching again. I get $300.00 a year, enough to support me that length of time, sickness excepted. I find plenty of ways for my money, as people always do with much or little you know. I hear DeWitt Pool is going to farming on or near the tract you once owned. How I wish you were there now, for as you were aware, Wisconsin is now the rallying point. Say, don't you wish you were with us? We do enjoy our occasional meetings I assure you. But you never were at home enough to know much about them were you. You have always been too far from us all to feel as the rest of us do I suppose. But you never told me what Susan's other name was. Perhaps it was some familiar name. And how strange it seems to think you have a little boy, little Gussy. If he were here he might stand some chance of being petted by his Aunts, but he is so far off that there is no danger. And that reminds me that Lois says you never write to her. Why do you not? She feels bad about it. Do write her soon. Grandpa and Grandma are now quite feeble and childish. I wish you could see them. Don't you think you will sometime? Don't go on a mission unless you come on a mission of love to your sisters in which case you will find them ready and welcome. Do pack up your traps and come along, or are you waiting for the great Pacific Railroad?
Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary talk of going to the Worlds Fair at New York this month. Have you heard about it?
The mosquitoes plague me dreadfully and almost drive me from the field, do you have any where you are? They are having the yellow fever terribly in New Orleans. Great mortality. Do you want me to send you my Daguerrotype? Perhaps I will if I can, and you send me yours. Susan's and the baby's in return, as you say you have Daguerrotype there. In regard to your share of the property, only about $50.00 -- it together with Lois, Charles and mine is deposited in the hands of Uncle William until Charles comes of age. If you will give half, I will the other towards a neat plain stone, out of our own purses. Let me know will you soon. Write a good many letters if you can before snow arrives, and be sure if I am well, I will answer them. Love to Susan and yourself, and with a kiss to the "boy".
Believer me ever your affectionate sister,
Henrietta Martineau
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau dated March 26, 1854, New Albany, N.Y.

New Albany March 26, 1854
Dear Bub:
I acknowledge to the fact that I have made you wait longer than ever for a letter this time, but you will not scold I know, since it is not from any want inclination, but because I very often feel a sort of langor and fatigue after school, which makes it seem like a great undertaking to commence letter-writing. However one must not yield to such feelings. So behold me seated at my little table this Sabbath day, ten minutes past two o'clock by my watch, a brisk fire burning in the stove, a keen north wester whistling around the house which is a three story brick one. The only public square is the spot. My chamber windows command a fine view of La Belle Riviere, with Louisvill in the distance, Portland in the foreground and the Knobs stretching away to the west. It is a lovely picture, and will perhaps be a contrast to yours among the Wahsatch Mountains, especially as the Indians form the most prominent objects in it just now. But no beauty of scenery can ever make that country loved by me. How much rather would I be talking to you than writing you today if you were only among your friends. You are lost to me, lost to us all, while you are a Mormon, or at least while you are in Parowan. You might be a Mormon and welcome if you would only come and see us, notwithstanding. I really think you under a delusion -- pardon me -- . I have just received a letter from Aunt Harriet and Netta Pool Fillmore. Poor Uncle James has lost his wife lately, Aunt Frances. And since her death, his youngest boy, little Norman, a dear, sweet little fellow. Misfortunes never come singly they say. It seems so in his case. Grandma and Grandpa and the rest were in usual health when last heard from.
There is a dear little baby here where I am boarding. I often think of little Henry and try to think how he looks. I have no doubt he is quite perfection or so at least I should think. I suppose if I was once to get hold of him. I cannot realize his being a year and half old as he must be, but since I am never to see him or his father, you will have to write very particularly about him, else I shall never realize I have a nephew. Have you written to Lois yet? Why don't you. She feels hurt at your neglect of her. Just you write very soon and don't think she is a mere child, for she is fifteen. I wish you lived in Madison (by the way, direct your letters to Madison, Dale Co., Wisconsin when you write to Lois). You might have had a nice farm there by now.
It did not take you very long to enumerate your goods and chattels but if you are satisfied with such fare and such living it is more than I could. If you were suffering in a cause like that which induced our fathers to suffer the want of the necessaries of life then I could think them praiseworthy. But to be led about by a scamp as that Brigham Young. I think you have taken leave of your senses. You have duties paramount to those you think supreme, now to protect and provide for your sister Lois. (I can take care of myself) instead of laying her and myself too, under the obligation to an Uncle who affords her protection because he has to, not because he wants to. My brother, I say these words more in sorrow than in anger, though my heart feels your absence and wanderings most keenly. May the Good Lord turn your heart and bless you.
Did you ever receive my papers and a magazine accompanied by a letter from me dated January? I sent them at that time. You must write soon and with love to Sue and the "little roudy boy". Believe me your affectionate sister,
Henrietta
(copied from Page 190 and 191 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated 14 January 1855, New Albany, N.Y.
New Albany 14 January, 1855
Dear Bub:
Happy New Year brother, Happy New Year to you, Susan and my two nephews. By the way before I go any farther, I will put in my protest against the name of the little one. Did you name it after some Indian Chief or Spanish Warrior? Moroni Helaman is a new name to me and I would have preferred you name it Joseph, David, Peter, John, Horace, James or most any other name. However if you are satisfied I must be nolens volens. If I could act now as I would wish to at this moment, that is if you were anywhere within the bounds of the United States, I would go and see how those little scions of the Martineau stock look, and take shelter for awhile under your strong arm. I should like so much to see my brother once again, and greet my sister Sue. But I can never come to Utah even for protection. I am under the care of the Almighty in one place as much as another. My life will be preserved as long as He sees fit and I will not distrust this God who has taken care of me so long.
How is it that you can think to penetrate the mystery which hangs over the future when it is declared the times and seasons are known only to God? Art thou a prophet? Is it possible you do not take any papers to know what is going on in the world? I will send you the first Tribune I can get, although you never seem to have received any I have heretofore sent. The war with the Turks and Russians is the all exciting topic and will be probably for some time to come. There is universal cry of hard times everywhere. There has been much less extravagance this winter in dress than there has been. We have had it very warm and pleasant so far this winter. But we just had the hardest kind of a thunder shower with sharp lightening -- such as we usually see in summer. Indeed it has seemed more like spring than winter. I think I prefer good cold weather. It is more favorable to my health, as the warm weather debilitates me.
I am anticipating a remove in the course of a few weeks, and the reason why is that after being in operation three or four years, the Judge of the Supreme Court has decided that the law providing for the support of Public Schools throughout the State by taxation, is unconstitutional. As one editor says, "So much for having donkeys for legislators." The consequence is that in two or three weeks the schools are to be closed, and I must seek my fortune elsewhere. I suppose I shall go North to Uncle Peter's until I can get another situation. When it will be I do not yet know. Direct your letters until April to this place as usual, or until I can advise you further. I like the people of New Albany very much though. I can not say as much for the climate. The changes from hot to cold are too sudden and frequent to be agreeable. If you were anywhere but in the Mormon country I would go to you. It would be my greatest pleasure to be where you are. Oh how glad I should be to see you once again!
About that case of Survey instruments -- I will see that they are sent to you as soon as I can. And as for the rings which belonged to Mother. She had four, one was her wedding ring which was stolen from her at Victory. One she gave herself to Lotie, and two of them she gave to me when we lived opposite to Mr. Rice's when I was fifteen years old. One of my rings has a large set in it and the other is a small engraved one which if you want you are welcome to. The history of the ring is this -- Uncle James gave it to Mother. One day she dropped it on the floor when I said to her -- "I wished you would tell me if I found it I might have it." She said if I found it I might, which I did. She put it on my finger which it has never left since. I am sorry that so many of the dear mementos of the loved and lost ones are gone and scattered to the four winds. I intended to have purchased a stone for poor Fanny's grave, but if I am out of school I cannot this year. None of the money of Mother's can be used or appropriated until Charlie is of age.
But I forgot to salute you according to your new dignity. Is it Colonel or Major Martineau? I am glad you are overcoming being an unknown to all the world at least. Give my love to Susan and Henry. That is, kiss him forty-leven times. Oh my -- I know he is the greatest boy in the world! Write soon and have Sue write.
Believe me even your sister,
Henrietta
. (copied from Page 192 and 193 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #14
To James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah.
From his sister Henrietta Martineau
Dated April 4, 1855, Madison, Wisconsin
Madison, Wisconsin
April 4, 1855
Dear Bubb:
Here I am again at this most beautiful Northern City wherein lakes, hills, woods and streams join together to make one charming picture, without including the number of pleasant people there and here in the shape of Uncle, Aunts, and cousins large and small. While I am writing this morning (which will compare with any you have among the Wasatch Mountains) I am at our cousin Nap's who has two little urchins, twin boys about three months old. Of course they are nice smart children, and I like them for their father's and mother's sake. Grandpa and Grandma are both here too, have left Old York State and seem to be quite well for such old people. Grandpa was 81 this April and Grandma 76 last February.
I am always saying I want you to come home. You will find yourself remembered as much as you could wish, and I don't think there is one among all our friends that would say anything about you being a Mormon, although they don't like to have you one, of course. I just wish you would try it once. Our folks live so pleasant and comfortable, that is Uncle William and James Nap and DeWitt and Uncle Peter do. Uncle William has a splendid piano and Loty is going to take lessons thereon. We are as lively as a cricket and I feel this morning as though if you were here I would like to take a long canter on horseback. If there is anything I do want in this world it is a horse of my own, one I would not be afraid of and I would not be of one I could always ride. If you were only in Oregon I would go with you without a moments hesitation. But I won't go to Salt Lake, so there now.
But I have not told you how I came to be here. Well this is how. All the public schools in New Albany came to a dead stand all at once in February, 1855 and in consequence your respected friend was out of employment and what did she do but poke up to Madison, where she is going to stay a short time. And then she is going to Milwaukee to live with Uncle Peter. How will you like that? Say! I will tell you what you have got to do. Just you pick up bag and baggage and come here. Bring Susan and my two adorable nephews. I know they will beat the other babies all to pieces. Do come here and live. Mercy knows it is wild enough in the Northern part of the State to suit anyone. I do want to see you so badly, worse than you want to see me I know.
I did not send you any papers this winter for I could not get any to send except daily papers with only a little reading matter in them. I have had the pleasure of attending a number of lectures by distinguished men. Some of the best talent of the country. Poets, historians, scientific men and politicians have contributed. The one gratification of this winter. You would enjoy them so much. And books! There is no end to them. In fact, I never enjoyed myself more than this season past. I have not heard from you for three months, but Loty had received a letter from you written last December, telling us that you go armed everywhere, and that the Indians are very troublesome. Does not the thought of whizzing bullets disturb your equanimity sometimes?
Since I commenced this, Nap has been attacked with something like Typhoid Fever. He was better last night. Today is Grandpa's birthday, the 11th of April. It is his eighty first birthday. What a long life to look back on. Shall you or I ever attain to it? For myself I think not. Three years pretty close confinement in a hot climate has not been without its effect upon me. I am rarely troubled with low spirits, otherwise blues, but I suffer much from langour and nervous debility. Especially in the hot weather. To tell the truth it is as much as ever I can do to keep from getting the dumps sometimes. Here I am with only five dollars in the world and no prospect of getting a situation before next fall and nothing to do but live with relatives. My spirit rebells bitterly against it, as you may well suppose. It seems to me sometimes as though I would rather die right off, but like the old man in the fable, when he called upon Death to come to his relief, was frightened when he saw him so near at hand. So I suppose I should be as loath to die as he was. There is nothing for it but to bear it patiently, and who knows what may be in store for me. I expect to go to Milwaukee when Uncle James returns from his bridal tour with his new wife, whose name is Lois. We expect to have a grand tea drinking and a concert given by the Mears family upon all sorts of instruments from Chickerings best down to a tin pan. How I wish you were here. When I go to write this is all I have to say, you perceive.
Aunt Harriet is keeping house for DeWitt. Nettie Pool is expected here next week on a visit. Uncle William is at present taking a pleasure tour through New York, Philadelphia, etc.. He has been making money fast during the past year as have Nap, Uncle Jim and DeWitt. Will you not write soon and a good long letter too! Tell Susan to take good care of you and the little rowdies as you call them. And also your self. Write soon and believe me ever your affectionate loving sister,
Nettie
(copied from Page 194 and 195 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #15
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah.
From his sister, Henrietta Martineau
Dated September 30, 1855, Madison, Wisconsin
Madison September 30, 1855
Dear Bub:
I do not wish to make you never want to hear from me again, so I will proceed to tell you about our folks. Uncle and Aunt are fixing to go to New York, Boston, Montreal, and etc., including Niagara Falls. Alice and I are going to keep house by ourselves unless Grandpa and Grandma come down to stay with us. Aunt will not give up but that you are coming back. She says she has all sorts of arguments to use with you and is brightening up her intellect daily. The Madison folks are or were when last heard from, as well as usual. They live very comfortably indeed, elegantly, all of them. Nap has got to be president of the Bank and DeWitt is a large landholder and lives with his mother in a nice little white cottage.
Uncle William seems to be prospering in the Lumber business and Uncle James also. Money, however one may despise it, brings a great many comforts as well as some cares. You and I and Lotie are the only poor ones of the lot. If I were anything else but a weak sister, I do not think it would be so with me. Uncle William has a great deal of trouble with Lotie. He talks of sending her somewhere else. Oh, if you were only here to take care of her! She thinks she is in love with a young man, is 18 years old and they are engaged, but how it will end I do not know. She is proud, quick tempered and very wilful, but has a fund of affection and good sense when one succeeds in gaining her confidence.
How much I should like to see your two little boys! I am willing to allow there never were such boys before nor since. And Susan to, how does she manage with them? In your next letter tell me all about yourself, wife and my two nephews and (not a word about the Mormons) and what you are about. You gave me some interesting particulars about the "Injuns" in your last letter. Are they very numerous? But my paper is getting spotted all over. Do not wait so long again before you write and do come here or anywhere in the States to live, bag and baggage.
All send love to you and with undiminished affection, believe your sister,
Nettie
(copied from Page 196 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah.
From his sister Nettie Martineau (now Mrs. David Lyon)
Dated 22 March 1856, Bedford, Westchester Co., New York
Bedford, New York
22 March 1856
Dear brother:
Your long silence has made me feel very uneasy about you. It is now six months or more since I have received a letter from you and all sorts of conjectures are rife in my mind about it. Sometimes I almost believe you have started on that journey to China you used to threaten so often, and then I sometimes think you are perhaps on your way home, and want to give us a joyful surprise. You know you have always been such a faithful correspondent. I must try at least to invent a plausible excuse for such unpardonable negligence, or forgetfulness on your part as you have shown for some time past. If I should hear from you that you are well and the wife and little ones, I shall be very glad. And I hope you will write as soon as you receive this.
You will see by this that winter has given up the reins of government to Spring at least according to the calendar, but he still lingers on hill-tops and valleys, and winter bonnets and furs are still the order of the day. We have had sleighing for weeks and weeks and we now rejoice in the prospect of most abominable muddy weather and traveling for some time to come. I am awaiting Springtime in a new country as picturesque (in many places) as any County within the United States. The most prominent features of the landscape around here are the huge boulders or rocks weighing many tons, which are to be met with at almost every turn. They give an air of bold beauty to the scene, as a large handsome nose does to a man's face. Such a country pleases me better than prairie land though covered with the most brilliant flowers. I have said the scenery here might compare with any in the United States -- on reading the page over I think that is too broad an assertion inasmuch as I have never visited the whole of the United States, and so of course would not be expected to know about them. You will I hope consider me as speaking of the parts I have either seen or read of.
Dear Bub, I wrote you one letter since my marriage. I thought I would follow your own good advice and example. Since then you have kept as mum as a church mouse --. I do wish there was any prospect of your coming to this part of the world, even if it was at some remote period -- How long and how many many years is it since you left us? Eight, I believe and you have become a man I hope, in every sense of the word. I can scarcely express the earnest desire which I have and all our friends have that you may once more return to us and be one among the rest.
Uncle William and James and Charles, Nap and DeWitt are all in Madison, Wisconsin getting along apparently well with all the prosperity that heart could wish. Uncle William's health is not good as usual and some fears are felt for him. Since he has been in Wisconsin he has enjoyed better health than for many years, though you know he always has a cough and often bleeds at the lungs. DeWitt is luxuriating as a bachelor yet, though there are rumors that Cupid has at last transfixed him with one of his darts. Have you heard from Lotie lately? She is experiencing the truth of the adage that "the course of true love never did run smooth." She has been engaged two years to a young man who now seems to be not the one to make her happy. He is very young, only nineteen, and the trouble seems to be that he seems inclined to sew a large field of wild oats, no uncommon thing for a young man. She is undergoing great trouble of mind at present but I'm situated at such a distance, do little about him. Cannot advise her except in general terms. Do write her if you have not lately, a letter from you will do her much good.
Grandpa and Grandma were well at the last letters, as well as you could expect such old people to be. How glad they would be to see you! What is the use of writing you news. It will be stale by the time it reaches you. I have not heard much Utah news lately. Do write and let me know if you are alive. Susan has never favored me with a line yet, nevertheless give her and the boys a good sisterly and Aunty kiss from your ever affectionate sister,
Nettie
My address is Mrs. David Lyon, Bedford, Westchester Co., New York.

(copied from Page 197 and 198 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #17
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah From his youngest Sister, Lois Martineau Dated 9 May, 1856, Madison, Wisconsin
Madison, Wisconsin 9 May, 1856
My dear brother James:
I have thought of writing to you for a long time, although you seemed to have forgotten me. And I did not know as you would want my letters of any account, I was so young when you last saw me. Your letter was sent to me as Nettie is married and gone. Her husband is a Presbyterian Clergyman, one of the noblest and best of men. Aunt Mary went east last summer, and brought him home with her. Of course he fell in love with Nettie at first sight, and in a week's time they were engaged. I went down to assist her in preparing, and in two weeks from his arrival they were married. They started immediately after the ceremony for his home in Bedford, Westchester County, New York. She seems happy although she has the care of two children, and you know a minister's wife has a trying position, especially in a country village.
Grandma and Grandpa are living in Milwaukee with Aunt Mary. Uncle Peter sold part of his land for $156,000 and has bought one of the handsomest houses in the City. Uncle William coughs as bad as ever, but he still keeps at his business. We have got a snug little cottage and are very happy. The other evening Mr. Ingram called to see me. He said you were an old friend of his. He was anxious to hear how you were thriving and etc.. He told me that Mr. Babcock was coming out to Wisconsin, I never want to see him.
So you like living in Utah. Do you have many beautiful flowers? I should think you would miss the books and papers you were so fond of reading. Uncle William says you were as good as a dictionary for him. You are intelligent! I am very fond of reading. I do love books and poetry. Marmion and "The Lady of the Lake" are my favorites -- Moore, sings of Love and Beauty -- but isn't "Lalla Rookh" beautiful? What will you think of my writing in this wild strain! Do you remember giving me a copy of Pilgrims Progress, and "Batchelor Butterfly" when you went away? I prize the first very highly and always intend to keep it.
We received a letter from Aunt Mary today. They are all well. She wants me to spend part of the summer with her, Nettie wants me to visit her, I do not know which I can do yet. Aunt Mary is very peculiar in some things, I do not like to stay with her much.
Do you have much trouble with the Indians? I do not wonder at their desperation in being driven from the ground they have inherited. The whites ought to buy the land and they would have no trouble. Jimmie, I have upset my ink and blotted this. It is late and I cannot copy this -- will you excuse it? I am not often so careless.
It is the most beautiful moonlight evening, the lakes are most charming. If I was a poet I should go into raptures over it. It seems odd to hear of your handsome children. I wonder if they ever heard of Aunt Lotie. Don't it sound funny -- Aunt Lotie! Give my love to sister Susan, and if you will accept this letter with this blot I shall be very happy. Don't you believe any stories Nett tells you about my getting married, for I am too young entirely.
Believe me dear brother, Your affectionate sister
Lotie.
P. S. Here is a lock of my hair.

(copied from Page 199 and 200 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #18
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah. From his sister Harriet , Dated 18 December 1856, Bedford, New York
Bedford, New York
28 December, 1856
Dear Bub:
It is Sunday and all is quiet indoors and out. My baby, born Nov. 13th just two months younger than yours, is asleep upon the bed and I, in default of going to Church, have sat down to talk to you a little. Yes, you have a little niece not yet named, but for whom we are canvassing the respective merits of Jessie, Fanny, etc., indeed all names. Yours I presume, is named after your wife. Of course I think my little one a very extraordinary child though it would puzzle anyone else to discover it I presume.
12 Jan. 1857 -- You will perceive that I commenced this 'last year' -- but my readiest excuse you will find for me in my new cause, and not being very strong --. I had a letter from Lotie today. She mentioned a gathering they had recently at Uncle William's on the anniversary of Grandma and Grandpa's wedding day -- 60 years since. Only think of that! It is the Germans I think, who celebrate the "Silver Bridal" at 25 years, and the "golden" at fifty years of married life. What name would you give to such a one as this?
DeWitt it seems, is recently married but to whom I have not learned. Nap and his wife in company with two or three of their married friends have gone on a tour through Havana, Washington and etc.. Nap enjoys life I think, at least he used his money like a man of taste and refinement. His health is rather precarious I think from what I can learn. Lotie and her "Fiance" have broken their engagement I believe. Her intended was thought and believed to possess not much principles of any kind, good or bad. Lotie like other womankind, will not believe anything to his discredit and thinks he will come out right yet.
Jimmie, I wish you were here tonight. My good husband has walked five miles to preach tonight and will be tired enough when he comes home. We have no horse which makes it very bad getting about for him, although he is not a very little man. Jimmie, you have often wished me to write you an account of our genealogy. I am as ignorant as you are about it and can derive no information about our ancestors from anyone I know except Aunt Ann in New York City. I am sorry I cannot comply with your wishes in this respect but do not see how I am going to. I cannot go to the City and do not expect to see anyone who could tell me. On our Mother's side we have a genealogy in the family of the Spragues which goes back as far as 1600 and that portion of the family is pretty well ascertained. But I know for certain that we are both the children of John Martineau and Eliza Mears, his wife. Uncle Peter is as ignorant as I am I imagine, from the fact that a lawyer wrote him about an estate lying unclaimed by the Martineau tribe, but he could not lay any claim to it as he did not know who his grandfather was! I will try to find out these particulars if I can and let you know my success.
About the flower seeds, I have no variety of them and so my kind good man bought a box of Thornburn, successor of Old Grant Thornburn the seed man. You knew him didn't you? We sent them to you together with an account book or rather, note book with some of Father's writing in it, and some of my own which I meant to have torn out. You will laugh when you read over my account, I dare say. But never mind. "We women are never expected to do anything belonging to business quite as businesslike as men". I wrote them down while teaching at Albany.
I wish much that I could have the society of my brother once more but I have almost given up hope for that. Some kind providence may restore you to us and what a day of rejoicing that would be. Why does Susan not write to me? What a time of sickness you must have had last fall. Well -- I am glad you got through it safely, all of you. Write me frequently as you can, will you?
Your letter afforded me much pleasure. I was glad to see you take my phillies against the Mormons in so kind and brotherly manner. We can never think just alike in that manner so we will agree to disagree, and not let anything unpleasant mar our mutual affection or disturb our peace.
I had almost forgotten to say that your old friend Julie talks of getting married, but to whom I do not know. All are well at Milwaukee, meaning Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary, and Cousin Alice who is transforming from the bud to the blossom rapidly. Leo my husband, says he wrote you a long letter, and he will send nothing further in this except his regards to your wife and children and yourself.
In all of which I write heartily. And believe now and every your affectionate
Sister Nettie

(copied from Page 201 and 202 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #19
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah From his sister Henrietta, No address or date. Last page of letter.
Perhaps Lotie will come and stay with me a while this summer. At least I have begged her to come. I wish you were only where I could see you and have a ride on that pony you were speaking of. I should be glad to see Susy and embrace her as a sister. But you say you will probably never come here. And of course I never expect to reach Utah. So we must continue to keep up our correspondence by letter faithfully and punctually. You are always remembered by me daily --. Do not forget me your sister, but keep me always in your heart.
Uncle Peter has made a sale of his land for $136,000 I believe, but it is not certain he will ever get that for it. I cannot give you any items of home news, not having much of a stock on hand. But I know they are prospering in the world and enjoying themselves. Grandpa and Grandma were living quite comfortably at Milwaukee. Now Bub, write me often before the snow comes. Kiss Susan for me,
And believe me ever yours,
Nettie

(copied from Page 203 in Ne
Letter #20
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah From his sister Lois (Lottie) Martineau Dated 29 December 1856, Madison, (Wisconsin)
Madison 29 December, 1856
My dear brother:
I received your most welcome letter on Thanksgiving Day, and one also from Nett wishing me to congratulate her for having a young Lyoness. I thought you were never going to write me, your letters were so long in crossing the desert. If you associate me in your mind as "just a little girl", what will you think when I tell you I am tall as Aunt Mary, I am tolerably slim, but not bean pole-ish.
Nettie has got an excellent husband, of course he is not rich, but she is very happy. He is like a brother to me. As for me, I intend always to remain in single blessedness. But I appreciate your advice as well as if I intended to make someone happy. I am so plain looking and quiet, that the Lords of Creation pass on the other side.
Grandpa and Ma are living with Uncle William. Grandpa would be happier "hauling jags of wood with the old mare", than with any of his children. Grandma wants you to write to her if you can. They are very smart, that is, Grandma knits and sews a great deal, and Grandpa walks down town very often which is no light things, for we live on a hill equal to the Fultonville. Uncle William has two lumber yards here and owns a great deal of land, which is the mammon worshipped here.
Nap is an alderman of the City, and President of a Bank. He is gong to build an elegant stone house across the street from us. DeWitt has made money in land speculations, and has entered the crockery business. His mother keeps house for him, but he is the most unsociable of creatures. He never says two words to any one. Will Sherwin personifies Young America, hires the first equipage in town to enjoy a sleighride with his cousins.
I believe I have posted you in all family matters, now I shall change to myself. I take music lessons, go out on society, flirt, and do anything to horrify Aunt Mary. Grandpa knows more of his ancestors farther back than his own father. His name was John, he was born in old Springfield, Conn.. Our grandfather's name was William. When I see Uncle Peter I will ask him more about our ancestors.
Dear me -- I have made so many blunders. But I can only say in excuse that my mind runs faster than my pen. Which being the case I will close this rumbling epistle with much love to Susan and the boys. Why does not Sister Sue add a postscript to me? I suppose it is my place to write to her but I am such a miserable writer.
Yours with love, Lotie Martineau
P. S. I send you some of Fanny Lyon's hair. (Nett's oldest).

Letter #21
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah From his cousin Ellen Stanley Mears, Dated August 1st, 1857. Milwaukee, Wisconsin
A letter from Ellen Stanley Mears to her cousin James H. Martineau
Milwaukee
August 1st, 1857
James H. Martineau:
Lotie says that I must write you a few lines. We are staying at Uncle Peter Martineau's, as I suppose Lotie has told you in her letter. It is a very pretty place surrounded with beautiful trees.
I suppose you have forgotten how Lotie looks. She has grown up to be the fair "Lily of the West". Tall and slender with beautiful eyes and a splendid mouth. In fact she is such a sister that any man young or old would wish to own.
Alice Martineau is also writing to you and among us all I think there ought to be a very nice letter. I hereby give you my invitation to come out West and live with us at Madison. I suppose you will think that I am very bold to write to a person that I cannot remember, -- how he looks, -- but if you should have such a thought I will tell you I wrote to you with the most friendly intentions. However, I have not forgotten that there is such a person as yourself nor am I likely to for Lotie is all the time talking about you and your wife.
I know that you will think this is a very silly letter but I did the best I could and cannot do any better. My best wishes and love to you.
Ellen Stanley Mears
(copied from Page 205 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #22
To James H. Martineau, Utah. From his sister Henrietta Martineau. Dated 14 September 1867, Addenda, Minnesota

Addenda, 14 September 1867
Dear Jim:
I mislaid this letter and it has been lying current nearly two weeks but as there is no news in it, I guess I will send it on just the same.
Nap says the Mormons generally, are untidy in their dress -- do not you be --. Nothing marks the gentleman more than neatness and tidiness in dress, and a lady too for that matter. Did you not notice the exquisite neatness and precision of his dress -- and it is always so, no matter whether he is well or ill and whether with business or otherwise.
I tender you an invitation from myself and husband to come to Minnesota and see how the country is progressing in civilization of all sorts, and then go to Madison and see what is left of our once numerous family of Mears there. You would have to stand some good-humored ribbing but there is no malice among them. Lotie's address is Amsterdam, Holland. Mrs. I. P. Voswinkel Dorselen. Write again soon and believe me with love to my nieces and nephews,
As ever affectionate sister Nettie
(copied from Page 206 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #23
To James H. Martineau in Utah. From his sister Henrietta. Dated 16 January 1869, Winona, Minnesota
Winona, Minnesota
16 January 1869
My dear brother:
It is now about five years since I last wrote you and you have not yet answered my letter. I was a little at a loss to tell where you were and so waited to hear from you. But I heard of you this fall and so have taken up my pen again to awaken a response if possible.
I have been sick a good deal for about fifteen months, a good deal of the time unable to write, and that is the reason why I have not written you long ago. I wish I could hear from you often -- I never expect to see you but I would at least like to hear from you once in a while -- I never forget you.
We are all in our usual health at present. My husband has grown a little greyer, but the Lord still continues to favor him with very good health. My children are growing up into a big boy and girl. I have of my own but two, Fanny and Johnny. Fanny is they say, very much like me, so you can fancy her somewhat if you have not forgotten me as a little girl. And John is a stout, sturdy fellow like his father. His entire name is John Martineau Lyon. We are still living on the banks of the Mississippi. I am not getting out, with the cold weather we have, it is too severe for me. This morning the mercury was 24 degrees below zero.
Do you know what I always imagine you are about? You can't guess -- chasing Camanches or Arapihoes on horseback or some such thing. It is the impression I got years ago from your first experience in that wild country.
Lotie lives about a mile off and has two pretty children, a boy and a girl. She herself is pretty well, and a real Martineau. Her husband is a prosperous Banker and they live very handsomely. Our Madison friends are all in a flourishing condition, -- I might except Uncle William who has lost all his property and is now a clerk in an insurance office. How are you prospering in worldly matters and are you as firm a Mormon as ever? I should think you would by this time be thoroughly disgusted with Brigham Young and his religion. We are at present very comfortable. The Lord takes good care of us. May He also preserve you and yours from all evils, and keep you in health and peace.
Your affectionate sister, Nettie
(copied from Page 207 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #24
To James H. Martineau in Utah. From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 7 September, 1869. Rochester, Minnesota
Rochester, Minnesota
7 September, 1869
Dear Brother:
I was much surprised as pleased to hear from you once more (every five years I believe, you vouchsafe me tidings of yourself and family). I am glad Nap's visit had the effect of reminding you of your kindred. How did he happen to meet you so opportunly? Nap is a married man, yes, and has everything that wealth can purchase except health and happiness, two indispensable things you need for a sublime life. I am much obliged to you for the picture of yourself and dear little girl. I wish she had my whole name 'Emily Henrietta' and then I should have felt a whole interest in her. My heart warms to her at once and I wish I could see the little thing every day. Give her a kiss for Aunt Nettie and Cousins Fanny and Johnny. How much we have lost in not keeping near one another during all these long 22 years and cultivating that tender and affectionate love and interest, what near kindred is intended to do. Only think of it -- in all these long years I do not remember that you have once spoken of returning to see those friends who, though they love not the principles you cherish, yet have ever remembered you with interest. The last words our good old Grandmother ever spoke were "Poor Jimmy", her last thought was of you -- "Rest in Peace".
Your picture I am certain does not do you justice. I think you would look much better with short hair and beard. I can see a few traces of the beardless boy, so graceful and gentlemanly and quiet in his manners, and within, full of spirit and adventure. And me, I am forty but not fat or fair. These western winds have changed me to a brown, together with ill health most of the time, yet I am perky sometimes. And if I had the means I'd dearly love to come and see you now that I can get there so easily. It would take more money than my Missionary husband could save in twenty years. All I need at present to come is -- some filthy lucre. But the way is no longer from Logan to here than it is from St. Paul to Logan. Suppose you bring one or two of your tall sons and my little pet Henrietta, to come and see a little life at the East?
Write me soon again and with much love from us all, I am as ever your affectionate sister
Nettie Lyon
(copied from Page 208 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #25 To Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon, Dated 13 February, 1864, Nashville, Tenn. From Charles Babcock, her younger brother. Letter of Charles Babcock, who passed away in the army at a very young age.
Nashville, Tenn.
13 February, 1864
Dear sister:
It is with the greatest pleasure that I seat myself on my knapsack this afternoon to address a few lines to you. I am a soldier now, in the employ of Uncle Sam. I enlisted 2 weeks ago. I started for Madison, Wis. The first day of February, was in camp there five days and started for Murfeesboro, Tenn. To join my regiment last Monday and now we are staying in what are called the Zolliceffer Barracks which were built by that rebel leader when he had possession of this town for the accommodation of his army. The building is a large five story structure and is very convenient, but the worst of all is we cannot get outside of the building and therefore it is a prison for me, as well as for the rest of the soldiers. They say that there is a great many body lice in here, but I have seen none of them. The building will hold 15,000 men and is constructed of brick.
We had a very pleasant ride coming down here and I saw some splendid land and some beautiful scenery. We rode through 4 tunnels, we passed through Michigan City, Lafayette and Indianapolis in Indiana, and Louisville, Mumfordville and Bowling Green in Kentucky. Just a few miles north of the Tennessee line we passed through a small place where there was a regiment of mounted Infantry. Here was about 47 rebel prisoners under guard.
Now Nettie, you may think it strange that I enlisted. It was not the desire of my parents. I hated to leave them but I felt as though it was my duty to go, and in that case they did not object to it. It was not because I wanted to leave home, because I did not, for my father has always been kind and attentive to me. And if Ma had been my own mother she could not have been kinder than she has been. There have been some persons that have tried to hurt Mother by talking about her, but have hurt themselves the most of all. I have not had any letter from Ed in a long time. He was in Auburn a long time and I don't know but what he is there now. Where is Lois? When I was in Milwaukee I tried to find Uncle Peter's but I heard that he had gone to South Carolina, but whether it is so I don't know. Now when you answer this, direct your letter to Murfreesboro, Tenn.
Charles Babcock
The foregoing is a copy of my brother Charles' last letter, the original being in the possession of my sister Henrietta. The following is her notes on the back of Charles's letter.
"This is the last letter of my beloved young brother. In ten days after this was written he was taken sick with measles which terminated his life in Pneumonia. Two more weeks elapsed and he breathed his last breath courageously and calmly with a firm trust in his Redeemer, surrounded by strangers and in a strange land. He died in a hospital at Murfreesboro 7 March 1864, aged 17 years 5 months and 25 days. May he rest in peace".

(copied from Page 209 and 210 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #26
To James H. Martineau, Utah. From his sister Henrietta, Dated 21 November, 1869. St. Paul, Minnesota
St. Paul, Minnesota
21 November, 1869
My dear Jim:
You have discovered I think, the secret of an easy and pleasant correspondence and that is to reply at once while it is fresh, and not wait until the glow of pleasure and satisfaction is worn off. If we wish to maintain a place in the hearts of our friends we must keep ourselves before them to some extent, lest in the hurry and bustle of life other things conspire to take our place. In short, we must be willing to take some pains to be remembered.
I send you the last letter of the dear youth whom I watched over as long as I could, our brother when he was little. I send you his own hand-writing, as it will be more of satisfaction to you to gain in that manner a little insight into our noble youngster's heart and soul. But oh, had I known how little he had in his surroundings to minister to his taste for knowledge and desire to acquire an education, how much more I could have done for him. He was the object of the tenderest care and love of both his father and mother. But they were simple and unrefined people and he had nothing in his home to satisfy his craving for knowledge. He always had to go a long distance to school and then only to a common school.
He was cut off early and was not even in the army long enough to get a gun -- being taken sick with measles and obliged in the midst of them, to be moved four miles to a hospital. He took cold as a matter of course and died in two days. I have seen a letter he wrote home to his mother and father while sick, written with a pencil, some words left out, some repeated and the final letters to some minds repeated over and over again. I grieve not so much that he should die so far from home and so young, but that I did not do more for his happiness and for his good while I had a chance.
He was brought home and buried, a large concourse attending his funeral, six weeks after he left his home for the army. You will not by any means lose his precious letter but return it to me soon. I enclose his picture for you to see him as he was when he left home. He was gentle and mild by nature, not handsome exactly, but with a fair open manly face. I will not add more news but will write more fully of ourselves and others of whom you may want to hear soon, the Lord willing.
My darling brother, I can't talk of Mormonism very much. There is "One Lord, one faith, one baptism" for me, and these scriptures are my only source of faith and practice. Love to Susan and the children and write soon. As ever yours,
Nettie
(copied from Page 211 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #27
To James H. Martineau, Utah From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon Dated 5 January 1870, St. Paul, Minn.
St. Paul, Minn.
5 January 1870
Dear brother:
I must apologize for not answering your last letter sooner but things have been a little mixed up for two or three weeks oweing to the fact that the Seminary School where we are boarding and have been for the last year and a half, has changed hands lately and a good deal of bustle and confusion were the consequences. The Holidays passed over our heads quietly. We were invited out to Christmas dinner, the whole family, at the house of some New Yorkers. John and I went, my husband having to attend an appointment and Fanny being invited to spend the day with a little friend of hers. We are not rich enough to circulate Christmas presents to any amount, though I generally contrive to have something to give the children.
We got a small package from Madison as we generally do, mostly from Lotie who has returned with her husband and children to this country. She is staying with them in Madison awhile until John her husband can establish himself a little in business and get going again after a year's interruption. His name is Boswinkel but he usually writes Doeselen after it in consequence of being the heir of an old uncle. This is according to the Dutch fashion. John and Lotie both are as proud as Lucifer and their pride has undone them in a business point of view. Leo met him in New York City, looking for employment and behaved like a good Samaritan to him, helping him all in his power. At present he is in a banking house in Chicago. He really is a fine fellow but he always felt himself so superior to Americans that he has hitherto been very disagreeable.
Uncle William's health is very poor and his business is very dull just now. His children are good and well-bred in every way. I love always to go there. Nap and Uncle Charles are very rich, and busy a good deal in their own concerns, as who is not? And each one has their own burdens to bear and their hands full generally. You must not dear brother, feel annoyed if your friends do not jump at once at correspondence with them. Consider how little attention you have paid to them for 22 years past, never once attempting to get a sight of the old familiar faces, or renew old friendships. They have always remembered you however, and would make a great deal of fuss over you if you were to come home once more, and so would I. It will not cost much to come on the Pacific R. Road. Now save up your money and come and make us a good long visit. Please get a good picture of yourself and my little Nettie -- good pictures. Send them and others of your large family. John and Fanny were much pleased with those you sent them.
With love of all, I am as ever affectionately,
Sister Nettie
(copied from Page 212 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #28
To James H. Martineau, Utah From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon Dated 16 March 1870. St. Paul, Minnesota
St. Paul, Minn.
16 March, 1870
Dear Brother:
I have been looking anxiously for a letter from you for many weeks now and can't imagine why I don't hear from you. Accounts from Utah indicate somewhat unsettled condition of things but I do not suppose you are involved in it. You will please not forget to return Charlie's picture and letter as I prize them highly. And I desire extremely that you send me a current picture of yourself. You used to be very handsome -- splendid teeth and eyes and the bearing of a gentleman. The picture you sent me I am sure can not be a good one. That one of little Nettie got rubbed a little and is spoiled. She is a sweet little thing and I must have one of her too by all means. Send me two or three of her and of yourself and I will send one to Lotie and one to Laura Stanin. I saw her this summer. She is unchanged in heart and mind and is the same good soul she used to be. Her husband is rich and she has carriages, horses and servants at her command, but without any ostentation or snobbery.
Lotie is now in Chicago with John and the children. I never hear from Uncle Peter or Aunt Mary. She has succeeded in alienating him from you and me and Lotie. Why she should so perniciously pursue us I know not, except for one thing -- a jealousy of Uncle for fear he would leave his property to us, as he told her he should. He was a very rich man fifteen years ago but he has only a bit of his property left. Aunt Mary is to be blamed entirely. Uncle Peter has always leaned toward his "Brother John's" children. Once years ago when I was writing you from his home I said, "What shall I tell Jimmie for you Uncle Peter?" He said "Tell him to come home and I will give him $5,000." He is a poor childless old man now and I often think of him with sorrow of heart.
Are you coming East this summer? You must not forget that you are to do that. It will do you good to see our part of the world once more. I shall expect you now to save up to come to the States with. Don't forget it. We are all in usual health but we have all had colds and some of us very bad ones too. The children go to good schools and have the Martineau fancy for books. We have just had a big snow storm, though the weather is warm and sunny. Write me soon and with love to all.
I am as ever affectionately,
Sister Nettie

(copied from Page 213 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #29
To James H. Martineau, Utah. From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon Dated 15 June 1870, St. Paul, Minnesota
St. Paul, Minn.
15 June 1870
Dear Brother:
It is half past nine in the morning and I have put my room in order and Fanny is working white paper into just such fanciful forms as I used to at her age, a long while ago now --. John has gone to school and my husband left last evening on the boat, for a week's trip among the churches. I would have gone with him but he had to make too many detours for a pleasure trip.
I had a letter from Lotie lately. She mentioned having received a letter from you and seemed glad to hear from you. She is worthy of your regard though I admit, she has some glaring faults but who has not? But she will if she lives, come out a most noble woman I think. Her health has always been extremely delicate, but she seems now to be as well as she ever was. Perhaps she may weather through a good many years yet -- who knows. She has seen much trouble but I must say that her pride and that of her husband has been the cause mainly of that. They are both too proud and ambitious to get on well. They are now in Chicago as you know of course, living a plain way.
I had a letter from Nap lately. He thinks it's strange you do not write him. I wish you would keep up correspondence with him.
I hear rumors of weddings among our pretty cousins (for you have some very very pretty ones) but I am not officially acquainted with the truth of these names: Will Mears Jr., Laura Van Slyke and Alice Mears, Uncle Charles' daughter are the candidates for matrimony.
I never hear anything from Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary now. She has estranged him from all his brother John's children for fear he might think too much of them. Money, money is the root of all evil with her. I love Uncle Peter dearly, he has a most kind and tender heart. If she would but let him give it full scope -- but she has him completely under her conduct without his dreaming of such a thing. He has the most unlimited confidence in her goodness.
I think you very much for the picture. It is not at all like my dear old Jim, but I like your face, and it is new. Just as well. Now I want the picture of the rest of the family. Can't you put them all in a Photographic Album and send them to me. Love to all and believe me as ever affectionately,
Sister Nettie
(copied from Page 214 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #30 To James H. Martineau, Utah -- From his niece, Fannie Martineau Lyon. Two letters, one dated 17 June 1870 and other Dated 27 Feb 1873. Both from St. Paul, Minnesota.
17 June, 1870
Dear Uncle James:
As Mama was writing this morning, I thought I would write too. From the picture you sent in your last letter of the Tabernacle, I think it must be a large and beautiful building. You sent me some pictures last winter, and I thank you very much for them. They were very nice. Papa went away on the steamboat last evening, and I went down to the boat with him and took supper with him. We had ice cream and strawberries.
You affectionate niece,
Fanny M. Lyon
Second Letter St. Paul, Minn.
27 Feb. 1873
My dear uncle:
Mamma got a letter from you this afternoon. It is a long time since we heard from you and we were very glad to get it.
John and I have been going to school all winter. I am studying Algebra, French, Rhetoric, Roman History and Arithmetic. Algebra and I don't agree very well. I like history very much indeed and I hope next fall to take up Grecian history. I am now reading a book on Heathan Mythology which is very interesting. This winter I have read some of Walter Scott's delightful morsels, Ivanhoe, Rob Roy, Waserley and Guy Mannering. I liked Ivanhoe and Waserley the best. One of my Christmas gifts was "Lady of the Lake". I have not finished it yet.
My sister Mary went East in December and is now in Dobbs Ferry, New York. She expects to visit "Sunny Side" in April. We had a letter from Aunt Lotie too, today. She says they have suffered much from the cold this winter. In one of the storms (terrible), our girl's brother was frozen to death. It is one of my pet wishes to ride over the Pacific rail road. Papa's district includes Dakota and may be when he goes out there sometime, I can go with him. Papa is snow bound. We got a telegram today from him. We are well, come and beat me at Chess.
Love affectionately, your niece,
Fannie Martineau Lyon

(copied from Page 215 and 216 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #31
To James H. Martineau, Utah From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon, Dated 3 Feb 1874. St. Paul, Minn.
St. Paul, Minn.
3 Feb. 1874
My dear brother:
I am ashamed of myself for not writing you long ago, but the fact is Fan and I have to do all of Leo's writing for him as his correspondence is large. Of course it takes up the time I would otherwise have for my friends, my absent ones especially. If Leo can see any of the officers of the railroad, which is now building, he will speak a good word for you. I should be so glad to have you within hailing distance of us. Can't you get a pass on your roads as far as Kansas and come and see for yourself?
You asked about Lotie. She has been very ill for three months now, she lives in Chicago and is boarding with John and the children at a hotel, the Eldridge House -- corner of Washington and Halstead Streets. She is in some respects a splendid human and you ought to come to our land and get acquainted with her and me.
Uncle William has been at death's-door for three months past, but a recent letter from Madison says he is gaining with a fair prospect of recovery. Nap writes me often, he is a good cousin. As far as that goes, Uncle Charles is a rich man and lives like an oyster in it's shell. Uncle James is paymaster in the U.S. Army, is stationed at Charleston at present. Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary I know but little about, hear from them a short letter once a year.
I don't know anything about our ancestors except that they were Huguenots and fled to this country during the time of religious persecution. The Spragues go back about 200 years. They are good blood, old English stock. Nap has that genealogy I believe. Are you getting up a Coat of Arms for the Martineau family? If I can ascertain anything about our great grandfather on our father's side, I will. I don't know as Uncle Peter would answer any inquiries of mine. Suppose you write and ask him yourself, he has always like you. Write me soon again and believe me, as ever your affectionate sister,
Nettie
(copied from Page 217 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #32
To James H. Martineau, Utah. From his aunt Mary Martineau, wife of Peter Martineau. Dated 1 Jan 1875 Milwaukee, Minn.
Milwaukee, 91 Prospect St. Minn.,
1 Jan. 1875
Dear James:
`As you are the only one of the dear name of Martineau that I write to, I commence the New Year with it's happy wishes to you. Yours of Nov. 20, comes lately with it's solacing words. I wonder you did not get the sad news sooner. It generally flies fast.
I cannot give you any information about your father's relations but will refer you to a cousin of his, having lived all his lifetime -- sixty years on Staten Island, he knows all about the family and is the best and most intelligent of any left. The present generation are not proud of the name nor were your father or Uncle, saying they were all, during the war of 1812, by the use of intoxicating drink, both male and female. Your own father's family are all you need to take an interest in. Your sisters are superior in intellect to those in the same circumstances and they would be proud of their brother if he would not set at naught the just laws of his country, and be the good and entrusting man he promised in his youth.
I trust to natural amiable temper to be plain with you on this next. It is thought Lotie will never get well so if you want to see your father's posthumus child, you had better not wait to get $300.00 but sell stock or lands, or get a pass and come while you have strength to get away. Flee as from Sodom while you can.
Nettie has invited me to spend the winter with her, but I love my own house while I can keep it. We have lived together longer in this house then any other but it costs most too much to live in it alone and I do not want boarders or visitors now. I am using up my things and giving your Uncle's away to the poor of the grasshopper region as it seems my painful duty. I gave all the best of them to my brother Charles, whom they fitted. I thought it strange that your Aunt Jenny could part so soon with my dear brother's things, but I find it grieves me to see my dear dear husband's things, so tore them away from me yesterday.
Your Uncle died without making a profession of religion but he defined the Church and the Bible like a Christian and never consorted with those that wailed penitence teachings, so that he was often taken for a Christian of strictest sect.
Your little cousin Alice has had six children, and had you seen her at a concert the other night you would have taken her for a child herself by the clapping of hands and merry laughter. She is very happy with her husband and children and pleasant home. Mr. Hinky, her perfect man is clerk of the N. I. Circuit Court, during the life of Judge Drummond of Illinois. Perhaps you know him. Minnie Mears is engaged to be married. She is with her parents at New Orleans. So is Captain DeWitt Pool and wife and child, also Russel Mears and wife and child. So you see some of our family are in like Capt. Jinks of the Army.
Affectionately, you Aunt Mary

(copied from Page 218 and 219 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #33 (two letters)
To James H. Martineau, Utah From his younger sister Lois Martineau (Lotie) Boswinkel and 2nd from her husband J. P. Voswinkel Dorselen (John) Dated 24 July 1875, Chicago, Illinois

Chicago 24 July, 1875
My dear brother James:
It is years since I have written but I lost your address. I have been an invalid so long that I have almost lost the art of writing. You know we passed through the "great fire". That was the beginning of my illness, and I have but just recovered enough to take care of my family. I have been the mother of eight children, four only of whom are living. The eldest a boy of thirteen who looks they say as you did at his age, the second a daughter of eleven, then Callie, five and Jenny Louise the baby of 20 months. Sixteen months ago as a last resort for my life, they were all sent away from me to Madison. They boarded at Aunt Jane's from February 1874 or all summer. And in the autumn I went out too and remained there until the 1st of June. (Stayed with Aunt Jane to about 6th of March when she told me she could not have us any longer. Paid Aunt Jane the same board as stranger, full price).
My husband went to England on business in December and when he returned in the spring was obliged to close his business, and has been out of employment until within a few or rather two weeks ago. He had just opened a Broker office in connection with a Mr. Kellogg of Milwaukee when the panic burst over the country. Their funds were evicted just when they most needed them and they have done nothing but lose money on account of heavy expense and want of business. Which means the capital was eaten up. That together with my expensive sickness and we were boarding, has made them close up. I do not know how we should have managed if he had not been able to borrow $250.00 from Uncle Charles and James Mears, so that we could rent and furnish with necessities a house, and live a month or so until he found some business. He could not pay for the last two months of our board in Madison and gave a note to pay in three months. At first the lady with whom we boarded refused the note. Then I offered her some pictures and my furs, and a black silk dress (which is precious to me because my husband denied himself meals that he might get me one in England) as payment. She did not want them but at last took the note, but asked me first that I would leave the dress and furs at Aunt Jane's, to show her friends that we intended to pay --Aunt Jane made me do this, saying she should not give to her. When I came home my husband said it was wrong for me to have done so and wrote at once to have them returned to us, as we had given an interest bearing note for the whole debt of $225.00 and in case they were not returned we would lost a hundred dollars besides.
Aunt Jane absolutely refused to send them back, and unless we can pay the note by the first of September I will lose the only black silk dress and furs I shall ever have, and John will be held for the whole amount just the same. I hate to ask it brother James, not knowing positively your circumstances, though I am told you are wealthy, and because you have your family claims, and may feel that my poor husband ought to be able to take care of such things. We could pay it if he had had business, but the time is so short now. Can you loan him five hundred dollars for two years, or if not that, enough to pay this board bill? Do for our Mother's sake if you can. My husband is the soul of honor as Nett or her husband will tell you. Do help him or if not that, if you can only give your sister a few dollars to pay some little things I owe in Madison, and which Aunt Jane writes insulting letters about -- do help me!
Aunt Mary might do something for her niece but her heart is hardened. I am sorry that my first letter should be a begging one, but we are so tried and in such trouble, I felt a need to ask you.
You asked me long ago for pictures of the family but we have never been able to get the children taken. Here is my husband and one taken of myself four or five years ago, which is said to still be a good likeness. I feel almost like an old woman these days, ever since my long illness, for sixteen months in bed, suffering a great deal of pain. And then we have had so many misfortunes, nothing but trials. Still we must believe that all these trials must be for some wise purpose, that "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the lord pitieth them that love Him".
Nettie tells me you are coming East this fall, I hope you will. You will receive a warm welcome from us I know. Do come if you can. Write a note if you please, because the time is short. Our address is 22 Ashland, Chicago.
I do not know much about your family, but I have told my children of you and they will be glad to hear from the Uncle James. My husband writes with me.
In love and good wishes you affectionate sister,
Lotie
Letter to JHM from Loties Husband, John P. Voswinkel Doselen, not dated but about same as above letter.
Brother James:
I shall be very glad to see you here this fall and we can manage to give you a room during your stay in Chicago if you can put up with a small room and small bed. Since Lotie wrote to you about our affairs and asked you to lend me $500 if possible, it for two years at 10%, I want to say to you this in case you can let me have it. I shall use it to pay my note for my familie's board and the $250 Uncle Charles lent me and for which I gave my note coming due the 15th of August.
We think we have a great deal to complain of, of the treatment and want of interest my family has received while they were in Madison, and late correspondence with Aunt Jane has made us feel as if we did not want to owe anything to the Mears family. There are so many things we can not write about without going into too lengthy particulars, but if you should come I think you will feel as we do. Then very hard times. I had to accept a clerkship in a bank here at $100 a month and out of this I can not save enough in three months. I had reason to expect something better when I gave my notes but have been disappointed. Our firm here liquidated, not failed, but it took all the money we had to pay our business --.
Yours truly,
J. P. Voswinkel Dorselen


(copied from Page 220 and 221 and 222 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #34 (two letters)
To James H. Martineau, in Utah From his sister Henrietta One Dated 12 August 1875, and other 1 September 1875, St. Paul, Minnesota
St. Paul, Minn.,
12 August 1875
My dear brother:
Yours is received. Poor Lotie has filled your ears with lamentable things indeed. I know nothing of any such doings of Aunt Jenny, as you speak of. Lotie never mentioned any such unpleasant things to me, and Aunt Jenny never did of course, and she writes me quite often considering how many cares she has. I am loath to believe that my dear Aunt Jenny would do anything unjust, and least of all, underhanded. She is truth itself and I am satisfied would never stoop to trickery of any kind. No, I am sure Lotie must be mistaken, for in 25 years I have known Aunt Jenny I have never seen or heard of anything of the kind. I believe the whole matter is capable of explanation.
I wish you and I could help them substantially, or rather that they might be more prosperous. And I was in hopes you had a piece of land at least to call you own. Money must be scarce in your Territory of course, though I do hope you will scratch enough together to come and see both your sisters this fall or winter. The fare from St. Paul to Chicago is $13.65 only.
My dear brother, you can't want to see me more than I want to see you, and my heart is warm to all your family. That tall boy of yours Henry, whose picture you sent to Cousin Nap, has a most resolute face. Why won't he come and see his Aunt?
Well, I have a room full of company and Fan is chattering like a magpie about something or other. We have lovely weather. I long for two things -- a horse and a piano.
Send my love to all,
Affectionately, Nettie
2nd Letter from Nettie Dated 1 September 1875
St. Paul, Minn.,
1 September 1875
My dear brother:
I have nothing new to write you. We are jogging along as usual. We are a little despondent over the crop prospect just now. The late heavy rains -- deluges almost -- have done great damage to wheat and oats already, and there seems no prospect of clear weather yet. "Old Prob" as they call him, prognosticates very certainly about the weather.
Engineering seems to me a very nice kind of business for a man. We have had a very cold summer until now and we are sweltering with the heat.
Aunt Mary wrote me she thought she would come and stay with us a while sometime this month and I wrote Uncle James at Madison to come along with her. I hope they will both come, I love my kindred. I don't hear from Nap very often. I hear he has been away from home a good deal this summer. I am going to lay in a good stock of eatables this Fall so that when you come you can have enough to eat. Do you come across any relics of the ancient inhabitants of our country in your engineering towns? Bring me some curiosities if you can.
You have never told me very particularly of your personal matters. I am glad you have a name of your own, which we have not. That coal mine will be valuable in time -- hold on to it -- and so will all the mines in Utah in time. "Everything comes to him who waits".
Love to all and affectionately,
Sister Nettie

(copied from Page 223 and 224 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #35
Two letters To James H. Martineau, in Utah From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon Dated 13 November 1875 & 4 April 1876 St. Paul, Minnesota
St. Paul, Minn.,
13 November 1875
Dear brother:
This is Fanny's birthday. She is just 19 and feels very old indeed. She is rather small but will I think, make a pretty fair woman if she lives and has her health. John is 15 and will be pretty stout, weighs 135 lbs.. Leo Lyon (Lion) as those that like to call him, is away from home as he usually is over Sabbath. He always goes to preach to some vacant church or some disaffected or disorganized church every Sabbath. He and I jog along together quite cheerfully and happily. Every day that we are permitted to spend together and with our children I regard as a great mercy from the Lord.
The skies and sun are bright as June but it's cold, cold, the first cold day we have had for much of winter. The Lord be thanked, we are not suffering in any way but have enough to eat and to drink and to wear of a plain kind, as you will find when you come. I am expecting you now every day. Come and spend Thanksgiving with us the 25 day of this month.
A friend of mine called upon Lotie in Chicago. She found her very comfortably fixed, a servant girl to do hard work and in a very pleasant location overlooking Union Park. She always writes doleful letters though. I sent her some things a short time ago and I am in hopes things will be better for them. Give my love to Susan and the children. Bring some of them with you when you come, and come you will I hope. With love to yourself, I am as ever
Affectionately Nettie
2nd Letter from Nettie
St. Paul, Minn.,
4 April 1876
Dear brother:
Yours has lain long unanswered -- want of time, much company, and ill health. I have been looking for you every day. You have got to come and no mistake so pack and come.
Lotie's husband John Voswinkel is at our house now and has been for most three weeks. Poor fellow! He is entirely discouraged and broken down by misfortune and hope deferred. He has been nearly desperate and when a Dutchman gets desperate, look out! He has been out of business since Christmas. Leo is trying to help him all he can, which is not much. The Lord's hand has been heavy on him and his truly.
Your account of the exodus of the Mormons was deeply interesting. Brigham Young's rule over his people verily, is despotic. I believe you are an honest Mormon and an honorable one, upright and just. I have all confidence in you as a man, but none in the Mormons themselves as a body. It is not my faith, nor that of My Mother. I am sorry it is yours. But let that go. I am longing to see you r face ever more. Don't give up coming. Stick to your promise. The spring is here now, that you said you would come.
I just had a letter from Nap. He has been to Washington, Philadelphia and New York -- in a hurry as usual. We are all well as common and send love to you all, Susan, children and yourself.
As ever affectionately and hoping ever to see you,
Sister Nettie
(copied from Page 225 and 226 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #36
Letter to Col. Jas. Martineau in Logan, Utah from Jos. R. Mears, uncle to James Henry dated Dec 4, 1869, Portland, Oregon.
Letterhead: Headquarters Department of the Columbia, Paymaster's Office, Portland, Oregon,
Dec. 4, 1869
Col. Jas. Martineau Logan, Utah T.
Dear Nephew:
Your welcome letter of Aug. 5 was received some time ago. But being away from my station most of the time since, I have not found the leisure to reply to it till now. It does indeed recall old times to see your handwriting after so long a lapse of years. The engineer and the military professions seem nearly altered, both seem to have attractions which is difficult to break from. Had your Uncle Peter continued in active service instead of laying himself up on the shelf at so early a day, I have no doubt he would have enjoyed himself far better, and been further advanced in worldly goods. I have been at this station nearly three years with my family. At the close of another year, it is expected I will be ordered east to serve the remainder of my days, provided Congress does not legislate the paymasters out of service altogether.
I confess you are ahead in the line of propagation, having but three living children by my first wife, and one by the last.
Your Cousin Van Slyke did not favor me with a call, but returned I believe direct from San Francisco to his home. But few of the eastern visitors to Pacific Slope by rail have extended their journey to this place, notwithstanding it seems to be the most flourishing of any on the coast.
The branch line of R.R. from locomotion to the Columbia River seems to have been abandoned for the present. I question if the country will justify the making of a road there ever, but the Northern Pacific will I think sooner or later be built. I understand your Sister Lois has returned with her husband from Holland to the United States. Mrs. Lyon I think is still at St. Paul, Minnesota. What her husband is doing I don't know. All the rest of the family are I believe at their respective homes, in usual health. I should be pleased to hear from you again at any time you feel like it.
Your uncle,
Jos. R. Mears
(copied from Page 273 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James H. Martineau from his wife, Susan E. Martineau(Probably in late 1855?)
Logan, Utah
Dear James:
We received your letter of Aug 9 last evening and I hasten to write and answer it. You spoke as though you had sent us some money but did not say how or when. I have not received a cent since you went away, and had almost given up the idea of your sending any at all. Lina Farrell gave us the bundle you sent by him, but he said nothing about any money. So I do not know what to think. How much did you send? The children can't go to Sunday School nor any place else for the want of clothes. We expect the President Friday 21st, and all are preparing for him.
I sent you a long letter by Henry but he sent it back, saying you had gone to the City. Stewart has gone, taking him with him to Tom Ricks (?) Camp. He talks of moving his wife there and staying all winter. I do not much like for Henry to be so far away in winter. I should have tried to stop his going, but I thought you were close by and you would see to him. Stewart never asked my consent to take him away from Logan and I did not know he was going a thing before he started. Henry never did like the idea very much. I had a letter from him the 12th. He seemed to like the place very much and told me not to feel bad, he was all right. Stewart intends coming home in a few days so you may see him.
I felt very sad when he went away but thought he would be near you, so I tried to let that comfort me. I wish you would see him.
We got a letter from Jesse N. which I send you. He is called to go to Scandinavia again. I feel bad for him. Also one from Seth. He says they are all well. Peaches ripe by bushels. Father had moved on Ash Creek, 6 miles away, and is getting out another orchard and vineyard. Nephi wrote me some time ago. His health is very poor. He has to farm this summer. He things he will try and come this fall but does not know.
Our children are getting the Whooping cough. Jesse and Joel have it very bad. My baby Nephi has no appetite. He throws up everything he takes into his stomach and don't seem to have any nourishment at all. Surely he is very poor and thin. You would hardly know him.
Well, about the grain. There will be a little more than an average crop of wheat. The oats are not worth cutting. Our corn and potatoes will not make the seed. The wheat looks middling. It is rather short, but I think
will do very well. The men you left to cut hay have cut 2 acres. Rivander has cut 1/2 of an acre and Jensen 1 1/4 acre, and you told them to cut on the Island. Harvesting is going on very fast. John Hinks wife died a day or two ago in childbirth. I do not know the cause.
Our wheat is all gone and I don't know what to do for more. You were afraid to leave your room key with me for fear the door was open too often and things disturbed. But Susan lives in there as much as in her own room. She has her beds in there and the door is seldom locked. I spoke to her about leaving the door open so much. She said she had to, it was so close. I should have said nothing about it to you had you been coming home, but Susan will act as though I had no business in there, and always has ever since you went away. In fact ever since you had the room, if I want anything.
Well, I don't anything more now, but I think you wouldn't like it any better than I. The children want to write so I will close. You have my prayers all the time. So goodbye and God bless you is my prayer constantly.
Your aff wife S.E.M.
Lew has cut 5 acres of the west lot & will have to cut the other. He will cut the Island also.
I have made 9 cheeses.


(copied from Page 243and 244 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to Susan Ellen from James Henry Martineau in Parowan, Utah
March 31, 1855
Addressed to Susan (wife) from J. H. Martineau Parowan March 31, 1855
My dear Susan:
Today I thought I would write to you a few lines as the mail will soon leave for California, and let you know how I am getting along. We got to Beaver the first night, to Cove Creek, Fillmore, Chicken Creek, (a little the other side of which I met Job Hall and W. Adams and sent back Prince) -- Crying Springs, Provo, Big Cottonwood and finally Great S. L. City, at which place we arrived on Thursday morning before sunrise. At Nephi I left my mare which had got sick and gave out, and continued on to Payson where we took dinner with Uncle Benjamin and then passed on. My health is slightly improved, but not much. But I am in hope it will continue to do so. I am staying with Uncle Babbitt who treats me with all kindness and politeness. Susan Sherman is some if not more, and says she hopes you will come down and see the folks.
The soldiers have been playing the devil with the women and girls here. On Friday afternoon (yesterday) John Taylor's daughter was married to one of the U.S. Officers who had exhibited his love in rather a questionable manner previously. The U.S. officers at Salt Creek were also very kind to Ammon's squaw, two of them gave four blankets for the honor of an evening's entertainment, at which the good people of Nephi were greatly scandalized, but nothing was done in the matter. Br. Geo. A. Smith has been very kind and his wife inquired after you and the babies. John L. and his wife and family are all well as usual, and also inquired about you.
I got a few yards of Calico and sheeting with the money I had and I am very sorry I did not have more. The city is much improved since last spring, and contains many fine buildings. Gov. Young's house is finished and cost $25,000 and he has began another costing about $60,000, near the other.
Gen. Wells said yesterday he would enroll my name in the Corps of Topographical Engineers, according to my request. Probably in Albert Carrington's regiment. I spoke upon the subject with Geo. A. Smith and Brigham, who were much pleased. I would have liked to have gone to Manti to see John and Sariah, but could not, as my mare had given out. But I sent word to them by a Mr. Black who was down from there in company with a Theatre from Manti who were performing at Nephi. I expect he will be down to Conference. Uncle George is still here but is anxious to go home, as Geo. A. has given him leave to return to Iron County. Geo. A. showed me a letter he has sent to J. C. L. Smith, saying that Red Creek will built up this summer, -- like Harmony.
I found an old acquaintance in the printing office, Jas. M. Knight who used to work with me in the printing office at Milwaukee. He says he will find a girl for me, but I have been too busy thus far to even look at one.
Your true husband,
J. H. Martineau


(copied from Page 245 and 246 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to Susan Ellen from James Henry Martineau in G.S.L. (Great Salt Lake City), Dec. 24, 1856
G. S. L. City Dec. 24, 1856
Dear Susan:
As the mail goes out in a few days I thought I would write a little more to you, hoping it may prove acceptable and do you good.
In the first place I will say that I can think of nothing and in fact I care nothing except to talk and write of the reformation which is now taking place in the Church. I do feel to thank God and Brother Brigham and Br. Dame that I am permitted to be here this winter, where the thunders of God are poured out on the people continually. Yet I would like to be at home too, in both places at once. I feel as though I want to roar a little -- to tell the people of some of the things that I have heard. If there is anything in you, Susan, that is not right, anything that you should do to make restitution, for your own sake and for my sake, and the sake of every thing that is good do not delay, but hasten to make all things right. I do not know that there is anything of the kind that you ought to do, but I know that if there is, and you neglect to do this, that you are lost. Search your heart with the spirit of God, and let no evil escape you unnoticed and not made right, or you must be severed from the Church. This may seem hard to say, but it is the truth, and it is the fate of all. Zion must and will be purified from sin, and if necessary it will be purified by the shedding of blood, and the time is now, it is not in the future. The pot if boiling and the scum will soon run off. The opening of spring will witness the departure of thousands of apostates. And if I am not very much mistaken, some will travel before that. Last Sunday Heber said he would see more apostates in that congregation than he had seen in his life -- ten to one, and they would seek to kill him and Brigham and others too. Brother Heber said "I want all Israel in San Bernardino and Carson to come home -- come home -- come home!"
All Israel will be put to the test, and that soon, and such a test as we never saw before. He said that none would be able to stand but those who live their religion, honor the Priesthood, and do right. We shall soon be an independent people -- a nation of ourselves, but some of us will probably fall, but we shall prevail and nothing will hinder us -- if we will repent, if not our doom is sealed. We are commanded to get full of the spirit and power of God, we must so, that we will put away iniquity from Israel, if we have to do so by cutting the throats of the wicked. Let us be careful to be pure, whether anyone else is or not. Lorenzo Snow said last night that the Spirit of the Lord influences men to pray and preach and to kick asses, and to kick bowels out as Peter did the guts of Judas when he had hung himself.
Susan, I feel as though I am willing to do anything that I can for this cause. But I dare not say that I will hold fast -- for no one knows until he gets through, what he can stand. Susan, pray for me and for yourself and the children. I want you to give my rifle to Br. Pendleton, and have him fix it immediately, tell him to fix the globe sight, and a good slide sight in place of the screw sight and train the gun so it will be ready for me when I come home. Br. Dame wants him to make him a gun when he comes home, or he had better fix mine now. I expect to want it before long.
Your loving husband,
J. H. Martineau

(copied from Page 246 and 247 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James Henry Martineau
Parowan, Utah Dec. 29, 1856

Parowan, December 29, 1856
Dear James:
As I have an opportunity of sending a letter to you I thought I would improve it. We are all enjoying good health at the present time and I think the Lord for it. I will now tell you a little of what is a going on here. Jesse is keeping a day school and Br. Pendleton is keeping writing school. B. Watts is a going to be Married New Year's Day to one of Br. Williamson's daughters.
There is a man here from the city to make out bills of Indian depredations. He says that the ones you made out are good for nothing but his is score (?) for he has a brother-in-law at Washington who has influence there and will see that it is paid. He takes two bushels of wheat apiece for making them out and calls it three dollars. His name is Cook and he says he was sent by the Presidency. So much for that.
We had a good meeting Christmas and New Year's Day is to be a day of fasting and prayer, no dancing. We are striving to keep the Spirit of the Lord here all the time but the evil one will creep in sometimes, but he is obliged to leave. I don't know whether you can read this or not for Moroni is sitting on my lap and he can't sit still, you know. It is now almost 12 and I must close (not knowing what I have written), praying God to bless you always.
S.E.M.
Susan Ellen Martineau
I wish you would get a spelling book.


(copied from Page 248 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to Susan Ellen from Sariah Eagar in Manti, San Pete County, Utah Feb 9th, 1857 (Refers to James Henry and Susan Julia Sherman)
Manti, Sanpete Co.
Feb. 9th, 1857
Dear Sister Susan:
With pleasure I sit down to write you a few lines to let you know how we get along. We are all well at present and enjoy ourselves well. I can truly say I never enjoyed myself as well in my life as I have for the last six months or since the reformation commenced in this place. Br. Hyde is here preaching to us and I can tell you we have a good time, though we have good preaching all the time from our President and Bishop, yet it is a change to hear from the Twelve. We go to meeting about twice a week on an average. John goes every night to meeting or council. He is one of the presidents of the Seventies in this place. He is determined to live the religion of Jesus Christ by the help of God and I want to help him all I can.
We received a letter from James (H. Martineau) while he was in the city. He felt well and I was glad to hear it. We also heard that he has taken Susan Sherman to wife. I was glad to hear that Susan had got a good man, for I believe she will make a good woman (and about grand) but try and agree as well as your names do. I am trying to get another wife for John, perhaps two (I don't know). I wish we could see each other again. We received a letter from Sixtus the last mail. He was well and prospered though not know when he should come home and did not want to come until his mission was filled.
I wish you would come down to Conference so we could see you. I expect to go this spring. If I knew when you would be up I would try and meet you at Nephi, but I think you might offord to come and see us when so near. I calculate to come down to Iron County this summer if I can get a chance and stay until you get tired of me. John said if I get him another wife to keep house he will let me come and stay as long as I want to. The children talk a great deal about Uncle James and Aunt Susan and their cousins. Julia about when she was 9 months old and is as spry as a cricket, and begins to talk a little. She is most 14 months old. John is in the tithing office and has been for about 4 months. He is not hardly home long enough to eat his meals. I wish I could see all the folks, and it would not tire me so much to talk as it would to write to you. You must write soon. Give my love to all the folks. John sends his love to you all. No more at present -- Good bye.
Sariah Eagar
(copied from Page 249 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to James Henry Martineau from his wives, Susan Ellen and Susan Julia in Parowan, Utah June 16th 1857 (?)
Parowan, June 16th, 1857 (?)
Dear James:
It is with a feeling of dissapointment that we converse with you be pen but I suppose it is all right. Last night when the mail got in from the north news came that Br. Dame was to call in part of the men and stay at home himself. We were sure you would be at home in a few days so we neglected writing to you but think how dissapointed we were when Brother Dame told me this morning that you was going to stay there all summer. We received your letters and was glad to hear from you. We was at the Springs when Nephi came home and we all had a joyfull meeting. We are expecting Nephi and Sixtus and all the women folks up tomorrow.
Brother _______ took us down there in a nice little carriage and we come back the same day. He is a jentleman that come in company with Sixtus. He is a verry nice man. I do not feel much like writing for my arms are so lame. Yesterday I spaded up a piece of ground and put out 77 cabbage plants. Our garden looks well and everything is progressing finely.
We will send your garments and shirt and shoes by Jesse and please tell us if there is any thing you want the first chance you get. We will bake some crackers and send to you if you say so. Send your dirty clothes in occasionally for us to look at and wash and mend for you, and your socks may need darning. We will try and send you a piece of meat if we kill the pig soon.
We want to know if we had better get a wheel at the public works. They make some very nice ones. The children are all well. Susan sits here a posting (?) me up with Vira and Della on her lap. We must be quick for fear Charley has gone. We send you some Desert News. Sister Foster has a fine boy a week old.
Good by from your affectionate wives,
Susan E. and J. Martineau


(copied from Page 250 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to Susan Julia from James Henry Martineau in Meadow Valley, June 8, 1858 )
Meadow Valley, June 8, 1858
Dear Susan J:
Your welcome letter came to hand all right, and I can assure you it was a pleasure to peruse it, as also Susan E.'s and John Eagar's. We had been expecting Br. Twitchell Saturday evening, and when bed time came and he did not, innumerable were the conjectures hazarded for his delay. We went to bed, but about midnight Beason Lewis came in from Bro. Hopkins' camp at Cave Spring 33 miles east of here, with news that the mail was coming, and all the sleep we got from that time till the mail did come was too little to realize. It is only when we are separated that we realize the delights of each other's society to its full extent.
You speak of my advice and council coming in good time. I am glad of it, for it is a testimony to me that the Lord blesses me with his Spirit at times. I wrote as I did, not because I wished you and Susan E. to think I thought ill of you, but because I thought it was good principle, and I wished to stir up your minds to remember your duties and encourage you to persevere in well doing. So much for that.
I am also glad to hear that you got the cotton ginned so soon. Make good use of your time and manufacture it into something useful, for we shall need such things very much. So also in regard to the wool. I hope no ill has happened to the two sheep at Red Creek. I put them in the charge of Br. Prothers. Br. Robinson had charge of the flock, and is responsible for them, for I paid their herding.
I am glad to hear of the progress that my two little girls make in talking and I agree with you that Della is a very remarkable child considering her father and mother (especially her mother). But more seriously, I think your policy good in regard to finishing the plastering, though that does not excuse the men who agreed to do the work for failing in their agreement. But let it go. When we settle again, we will have a house much better than our present one, I hope.
I was a little sorry that you and Susan used the money for my benefit when you need things so much yourselves, but I am glad the shoes are fixed. It has been the only thing that troubled me much -- the thought of your shoes being worn out, and no means to fix them, but I hope that some way will yet turn up by which you may be made comfortable. I feel confident that our Father will not let us suffer more than is for our good, so let us feel that all is right-- provided we are right.
I read your dream with interest, and showed it to Br. Dame. He says he will give you the interpretation when he gets home, but lest he should forget to, I will say this, it is a warning to you, to keep within your own proper sphere of duty, to be careful of your associations, not to go too far from home alone or unprotected. I pray that the spirit of interpretation may rest upon you that you may be benefited thereby. We will be exposed to many dangers and trials, and the only thing I know of to save us, is to keep the Holy Spirit with us continually by which often times we may be warned of danger and enabled to avoid it. Pray constantly for that Spirit, and you will be safe.
When I begin to write to my family there are so many principles to touch upon that I hardly know where to begin or what to say without wearying those who read my letters, but I earnestly desire the good of my dear wives and cannot help writing of things which are good to be kept in remembrance, so if I am tiresome, know that my intention is good at least. Susan, the time is close at hand when nothing but the power of the Lord will preserve us, and not even then, unless every one of us will strive hard to keep in the right track. I have all hope and confidence in you and Susan that you will do so, and that all will be well with you, for I have found you willing to follow and receive my council (sic).
I know you sometimes feel discouraged and are about ready to give up, but this is not right. As I said to Susan E., if you see you have made a mistake, rectify it as soon as possible, and God will overlook it. Will not a good man or woman forgive what the Lord can pardon? Of course they will, for if we wish mercy ourselves, we must be merciful to others. Let this principle be implanted in you, and God will bless and prosper you. We cannot look for his blessing if we cleave to evil, and if we are in difficulty, or our children or those whom we love are sick then we do ardently desire to have influence with God. But I am afraid of wearying you, so I will talk on other matters.
I have written to Sixtus but have not time to do so to John Eagar at present, but will try to next time. I cannot write to you and Susan so fully as I would like, so you may each receive what is good in either letter, and this will save repetition. You know I must always be scribbling poetry, so I will copy some that I wrote a few nights ago.
Poor Uncle Sam and the Mormons
Oh, poor Uncle Sam has got into a muss
And with a few Mormons has kicked up a fuss.
When he picked out a person o'er Mormons to rule
He cares not at all if he's a scoundrel or fool.
A Governor he's sent us, A. Cumming by name
And he's always a coming and coming again.
Last winter he started in hope to come here
But Brigham set word that he'd better stay there.
The feed being poor where his cattle did graze
A Mormon stares up and unto him says,
"My dear friend, your cattle will all starve and die
So I'll just drive 'em over to a valley near by."
Some government wagons, corralled all around
Were found the next morning all burned to the ground.
But that was an accident no doubt, for of course,
No civilized people would take such a course.
This Governor had with him a Colonel so great
Who swore he would conquer our free mountain state
And into these vallies would speedily come
And hang up that traitor, our President Young.
But "catch before hanging" is always the rule
And he that neglects it is surely a fool,
And this we have proven this Governor to be
For the saints will escape, and forever be free.
Poor blind Uncle Sam may send in his troops
To conquer the Mormons, but 'tis of no use
For the more we are conquered the faster we grow
And unto Missouri we surely will go.
I send a few things (shirt and garments) which I would like washed if you have time (you and Susan E.) The garments you not bother about mending much. I might wash them myself, but have tried a few times and can't make things so clean. Kiss little Della for me, and Susan too. I send some pretty stones which you and Susan may divide if you think this worth keeping. Keep the sacks.
Write long and often, anything. News about home, or about anything else will be interesting. Be a good girl and the Lord will bless you. Try (you and Susan) to be united in all good things and you will make me very happy. Give my respects to Br. Foster and wife and all inquiring friends, and God bless you is the prayer of your
Affectionate husband,
J. H. Martineau

To Mrs. Susan J. Martineau
The time drags heavily with me, and I wish Conference were over and I at home -- with you and the boys. But I hope I shall be there by the latter part of April, if my mare is well. She got sick by eating too much wheat. Geo. A. Smith and others intend to go to Iron County after Conference, and then perhaps there may be some splicing. It is quite the fashion here for the young ladies to marry a husband, that is, I mean those who are already husbands, but in Parowan, the girls are behind the times. I am not going to meeting, and if I see Charles Hall I shall give him this, as he expects to start for home soon. So goodbye for the present.
Your loving husband,
J. H. Martineau
P.S. Kiss the boys for me, for you know I'd rather not.


(copied from Page 251, 252, 253 and 254 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Letter #8
Addressed to Susan Ellen from James Henry Martineau in Great Salt Lake City , Nov 5, 1860 )
G.S.L. City, Nov. 5, 1860
Dear Susan:
I arrived here yesterday evening, having come down to bring up a load of your things to Logan and trade a little. I brought down 100 lbs. Butter, which I sold and replenished my stock a little. I was told by Aunt Esther that you had received no letters from me, at which I was surprised, having written to you several times. I found one of my letters still in this city, dated about a month ago, which somehow failed to reach you. I got a short letter from you dated (I think) Oct. 22 at Santaquin. I think you studied brevity remarkably well, for you said nothing about John Will or any of the children, whether they were sick or well, or of yourself either, and not a word to Susan J. at which she felt bad, thinking you cared nothing for her. I suppose you were in a hurry, or you would have written more.
About things at Logan. Lyman is about well, and getting fat again. Susan and Della are well. I have got a house nearly completed, and intend to build another for you as soon as I can. It is very difficult to get logs, which has caused me much delay. I was also prevented from work about a week, in consequence of a sore finger, caused by a cut in which I caught cold. Some thought I would lose my finger, but I feel thankful that it is now getting well. It was on my right hand.
I have traded off two yoke of oxen and got a span of mules, not as good as Pete and Pet, however. Br. Blair has built a house next to mine, and has a store; he has also established a meat market. The grist mill is nearly completed, and a man is going to put up a carding machine next spring which will be a great convenience. Trade (with regard to myself) is somewhat dull at Logan, but I expect it will finally amount to something, if we don't go to Jackson Co. very soon, or if I am not sent off, or something of that sort. However, all that will be as the Lord will, and all will be right.
I have bought Br. Bl___'s compass for $100, paying him $25.00 down, in making a mule trade with him.
I wish you would write often to me, directing to Logan, letting me know your whereabouts, and your intentions. Aunt Esther said you thought some of spending the winter here. I would dislike to have you here all winter, both on account of the difficulty of getting you wood, and your absence from me. If you were at Manti I should feel more at ease about you, but that is still further away. I think at present I shall come down again this winter to get you and the children. It will be cold, but I think we can fix so as to travel comfortably. But before we come to any certain arrangements, we will wait a little, and see how things shape themselves. But while absent, remember the counsels I have so often given you -- pray often, and take good care of yourself and kids. Don't let them get burned or hurt in any way. You know they often do when I am away.
I wish I could have seen the folks when they came in, but it could not be, so I must be content. Tell me what Nephi thinks of coming up this way and leaving the south.
I expect to start back tomorrow, and shall take as many of your things as I can, your rolls (?) with the rest, with Aunt E. informs me you left. Susan E. has not yet got her rolls spun yet. I think your and her chance of good warm clothes this winter is somewhat slim, but perhaps something will turn up so that I can get you a linsey dress in the store. Well, do for the best, a piece of advice which is useless, for I know you will do that all the time.
Give my best respects to John & Sariah, also to John Tuttle and Aunt Sally and all inquiring friends, if such there are, and tell them to write to me. I wonder how Mandana will like Nephi's matrimonial operations. I hope all will be well there. Did you see Albey and ask him about the letter I wrote him in the summer? Well, I must close. It is getting late and there are many talking all the time. Don't be scared at my miserable scribbling, for
My pen is poor, my ink is pale
My love for you shall never fail,"
as the poet says. I forget whether it is Lord Byron or Shakespeare. Well, this is a queer letter, ain't it. It is just like my mind at present -- all in a hurly burly. Well good by. Kiss every kid for me, and if you find a nice good girl, treat her in the same manner for me, as you know I would do if I should get a chance.
May the Lord bless you is the ______ of your affectionate husband,
Jas. H. Martineau
To: Mrs. Susan E. Martineau, Esq.
Manti, San Pete Co.
Care of John Eagar, Esq.

(copied from Page 255 and 256 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Addressed to Susan Ellen in Manti from James Henry Martineau in Logan, Utah Jan 12, 1861
Logan, Jan. 12, 1861
Dear Susan:
As Brother Ricks is going to start to G. S. L. City tomorrow, I thought I would send a few lines by him. I received a letter from you a few days ago, and was much pleased to hear that you were all well, and enjoying yourself. We waited and waited to get a letter from you, wondering what could be the reason of your silence, and Susan got perfectly nervous about it, as well as myself. We thought perhaps you had written, and the letter miscarried, and in short, conjured up a score of ways to account for it, but none of them satisfactory. Try and be more punctual hereafter, and write often as you can while you remain at Manti.
Well, as regards things here. We are generally as well as usual, although tonight (it is now about 11 p.m.) Susan has had a severe time with sick headache, but I hope will be better in the morning. Delcinia is well and hearty, but Lyman is still quite puny, but is not sick. I as well, but not very strong, having much to worry and perplex me, which makes it worse. But I have nothing to complain of, but much to be thankful for. The Lord has blessed me continually, for which I think him, and feel desirous to make some return, if possible, for his goodness toward me.
The weather has not been very cold, except for a few days about Christmas. Sleighing is good, but I have not had much opportunity to enjoy it as yet, my time being much occupied with business. We are now living in our own house, next neighbor to Br. Blair, whom I like very much.
[Click to View Sketch]
The above sketch represents the plantation, looking to the north. On the left is the Tithing Stack yard, next Susan's house, then yours, in the rear is the stable. On the right is Br. Blair's house. The well, which is about 11 feet deep, is in front. The following is a ground plan of the premises. The location is the first in Logan fronting south, and situated in the handsomest part of town. Logan is a mile long and 5/8 of a mile wide, with lots containing an acre of land each. It is situated upon a beautiful bench about 20 feet high, along the south edge of which flows the Logan River, running west. The Logan is a most beautiful river, abounding in large trout, which the Indians sell cheap. I saw some for sale last week, freshly caught. So much for Logan.
I like this country very much -- it is none of your two-penny Parowan operations -- all is on a larger scale. There will be a great deal of machinery here, saw mills, grist mills, carding machines, etc., which are now going ahead.
Ad regards my affairs, I am pretty hard up. I have expended almost every thing for building, wood, hay and provisions, and have nothing left, but a span of small mules, wagon and carriage -- no cow, pig, or chicken. I have been in debt nearly $500 but have now paid almost all. I am about to commence teaching military tactics, which will, I hope, help to recruit my finances a little. I was desired to teach school, but declined. My public business is steadily increasing, and I seldom get to bed before 12 o'clock p.m.
Since I wrote you last I have been appointed one of the board of School Examiners for the County, and also a member of the choir, which I joined reluctantly. My druggist business will increase, I think, steadily, into a profitable business, though now it is a mere nothing. There will be considerable business to do in the spring, at surveying, also considerable county business. I have not as yet done anything in the tithing business, etc. Well, so much for business matters. It is now getting quite late, so I will close for the present. Good night, Susy, and Henry, Moroni, Elvira and John. Well, good night all, and may God bless you.
Monday, Jan. 14. I have not time to write much this morning, and having forgotten what I wrote to you before and not having your letter before me, I hardly know whether I have written all the news or not. In regard to your staying at Manti all winter, if you really think best and desire to, I have no great objection, especially as the traveling might be very disagreeable, but I wish you to surely come before spring comes, with muddy roads. I want to have you get to the city before the sleighing breaks up, and I will come to the city for you with a sleigh, and bring you home in short order. This place is only two days from the city in summer and three in winter. I have got all your things up from the city except one chest, so there will not be much load. Be sure and write every mail. We feel very lonesome without seeing you and the kids. Delia often asks about Vira and Henry and Rosi and Johnny, and last, but not least of Aunty, whom she says she will have for her mother. Tell the children to be good and obedient, and the Lord will bless them. Give my respects to John and Sariah, and all inquiring friends. Tell John to write often. God bless you all is the prayer of your husband.
J. W. Martineau
Kiss all the kids for me. J. M.
Well Susan, as James has written all of interest I will not trouble you with much of my gibridge (sic: gibberish). I cannot think what yarn you refer to in your letter. There is no yarn here except that which you divided out as mine when we parted and I am very sorry you should have such an opinion of me as to think that I would carry your yarn off purposely but enough of this. My love to all. Good by.
Susan Julia

(copied from Page 257, 258 and 259 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau in a Surveying Camp near Kaysville, Utah Jan 12, 1861
Camp near Kaysville
Thursday, June 10, 1864
My dear Wife Susan E.:
As Henry is writing, I hastily drop a few lines. We are well, but the weather is hot and we get very thirsty out on the line.
Pres. Young will be at our camp to day, on his way to Ogden.
We have located about thirteen miles from Ogden, and expect to be at Kays Creek (Prairie House) by to night. We have thus far got a good line, nowhere ascending more than 40 feet in a mile which is a very easy grade. After we get as far as Farmington, it will be an easy matter to locate the rest of the line. Men are now at work all along between here and Ogden. Well, I hope all is well with you and the children. If you need any thing, as provisions, wood, etc., counsel with Br. Maughan. I do not know yet what wages I shall get. I shall probably continue on the line till the road is finished -- say all the summer. If possible I may visit you between this time and then, but perhaps not.
If any business letters, or books come for me by mail, send them to me by mail, especially "Henek's field book of Engineering" which I have sent for, and need every day. I have but little time for anything but work, but will try and write often, and wish you to do the same. I will write again more fully. Kiss the children for me, and tell them I sent it. Tell me what Moroni is doing with the team, etc. See Br. Maughan about getting some one to tend our crop, either on shares, or by paying them for their labor, as I shall not be able to do anything about it. If he can help you I shall be glad. Br. Fox says he shall want me until the road is done. Well, I must close. So good bye from your husband,
Jas. H. Martineau
I may want Moroni to come in two or three weeks when I go on construction.

(copied from Page 260 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen Martineau in Logan, Utah From Sariah A. Workman in Southern Utah, Jan 7th, 1867.
Virgin City, Jan. 7th, 1867
Kane Co., U.T.
Dear Sister Susan:
I sit down this evening to write a few lines to you to let you know how we are getting along. We are all well at present. I have got a little boy three weeks old tomorrow, born the 18th of Dec. and I am up doing my work. You see I have a good excuse for not writing. My health has been very poor all the fall but don't think I have forgotten you, no, not for a day, but I have so much to do that I hardly get time to breathe, let alone to write.
We have plenty to eat, drink, and to wear, so we have no reason to complain. Last fall we dried about a thousand lbs. of peaches, and fifty lbs. of grapes and we had considerable many apples and plumbs. Oh how we would have enjoyed ourselves if you had have been here in fruit time. I often thought of you. I rec'd a letter you wrote to Seth and was glad to hear from you.
I wish you could get a chance to come down to Dixie this summer and make us a good visit. We are all living in the fort in a pile (?) so we don't get lonesome. Do write to me often. Don't wait for me. Tell James to write to us. If he can afford to have the children write to our children. John said he would write tonight but he is to bed and asleep long ago. They are all going to school but Anna. She is weaving. Do write often and I will try to do the same. Good night.
Sariah A. Workman
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jackson think he has _____ it more but he is _____ and won't dance. The baby is crying so Sariah has to take him so I will write a few lines. She forgot to tell the boy's name. His name is Amoz Jackson. He's doing well, grows finely.
We have had so far the mildest winter that we have had since we came here. The weather is fine now. The Indians is some better, yet down here a few days ago, there was a gang of them come in and and stole some horses and cattle and the boys followed them and killed about half of the gang and got back all the stock and did not get hurt so the Indians did not make much that trip.
Sariah has not left me much room so I will have to close.
A. ?. W.

(copied from Page 261 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry Martineau in Logan, Utah From Benjamin F. Johnson in Springlake, (Southern) Utah, March 3, 1867 Addressed to James H. Martineau from his brother-in-law Benjamin F. Johnson
Springlake, March 3, 1867
Dear Bro Jim: I have re your of the 31st and am ashamed that I have only this stingy slip to answer your kind, interesting and worthy letter. Now James, I want to tell you that so good and kind a letter in answer to one that I almost felt was abuse when I wrote it, and it made you as a friend and Brother more dear to me if possible, than before. I feel that it was a real test to your confidence and friendship, and I believe every word that it contained. And I feel with all my heart to say, both to you and the girls "God Bless You", and to prophecy that the "Cloud" shall not long hang over you, but that the sunlight of real Blessings shall soon begin to descend upon you. I know that you may feel now that you are getting an experience. Yet the time will come when that experience will be a greater treasure to you than all the gold in the hills, neither are you always to live poor, for as the Lord lives, some day you will not want for riches nor honors in the midst of your brethren. So do not be in the least discouraged, for although you may not just now be so fully understood, yet there is a great future to you and your children, -- when your family with all Israel shall call you Blessed.
But I must stop or you may feel I am enthusiastic, but I am not. We have had much sickness this winter. Frank is still with us. He has been for weeks apparently nigh unto death but now seems better. Don also has been sick but is out again. Myself and part of the women got our Second Annointing this winter and I feel it has done much good for the Home spirit and influence. Seems much changed for the better and I feel greatly encouraged. My health altho not always good, is improving, as also our general circumstances I believe.
Do you remember the letter you wrote some 3 years ago prophesying good upon my head. I believe it and now I feel the good is coming and I want to so live that all may bless me and then shall I not be blessed?
I have nothing new to write you, only to say that I feel renewed confidence and energy and look forward into an increase of cheerfulness to the future. Oh! how glad I should be to see you. Would we not have a good talk!! I sometimes yearn in my feelings for someone like yourself to spend odd hours with. Someone to talk with just as I feel, who can understand me. You know what I mean better than I can write. And I should like to accept your invitation and make you a visit but I cannot. But if you come to Conference I shall try to be there so write and tell me if you will come.
Sarah M. and Sarah J. with the family send love to you and the girls -- you will give my kind love to them both and assure them of my confidence and good feelikng. And write to me often and believe me.
Truly your Brother & Friend,
B. F. Johnson

(copied from Page 262 and 263 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To The James Henry Martineau Martineau Family in Logan, Utah From Joel Hills Johnson, Susan Ellens Father, written from Virgin City, (Southern) Utah Dec 26, 1867. Virgin City 26 Dec 1867
Dear Children:
The family is all usually well except Margarett's little boy who has been sick for five months, no one can tell what is the matter with him, he seems to be in good heart and is lively but nothing but skin and bones. Some think he is bewitched.
Some time ago you wrote to me that you was making every preparation to move down here, immediately I went and saw the County Judge and Commissions and engaged for you the office of County Surveyor and several other important County offices and after waiting impatiently for a while I saw Brother Benson at St. George and he told me that you was not coming.
I thought that rather a cool breeze fanned me off so that I have not suffered any with heat since.
The taking of likenesses would be a good business in this country -- almost every one would be in for a likeness, I too for the lot. There is no such an establishment in Dixie.
It has been very rainy for the last few days, yesterday the streams were higher than ever before known, much damage done.
I should like to see yourself and family but don't expect to unless you come down here. I have not time to write much, God bless you all.
Yours as ever
Joel H. Johnson
(This man is Susan Ellen's father who wrote a favorite Mormon Hymn, "High on the Mountain Top") .

(copied from Page 264 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Henry Augustus (son of James Henry) Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau who is in a surveying camp between Brigham City and Willard Utah. Aug 22, 1868. Camp between Brigham City and Willard
Aug. 22, 1868
Dear Henry:
A few days ago I received a letter from your mother stating that you had gone to Weber River to work on the railway. This surprised me somewhat, knowing that I had made arrangements with Br. Stewart for you to learn the carpenter trade. He had no right to take you away in that manner, and it is something I shall inquire into after awhile. I certainly am not willing for you to do work of that kind (which is not learning a trade) and for him to make money out of your labor in that way. If I had known you were there when I came up from town I should have gone to see you.
I am about to start for the desert on Tuesday next going by Bear River Bridge. We intend to go west of that point about 75 miles and then begin to locate the road. It is not yet fully decided whether the road will go round the north or south end of the Lake. Your mother wrote that Jesse and Joel have the whooping cough. Joel is getting very poor and thin.
Henry, I want you to be a good boy, and never use bad language; above all, never take the name of God in vain. Do not get into any dangerous places, as under caving banks of earth or rocks, or into the river where it is deep. Pray night and morning and write home often. I shall pray for you every day that you may be blessed and preserved from evil. I hope you will pray for me and the rest of the family also every day, and remember that to become a great man you must be good.
I suppose it will be about three weeks before I return from the desert, so you probably will not receive any more letters from me for a time, but I shall not forget you. I am Topographer of our party, and my business is to make all the maps and drawings of the railway route, the streams, mountains, etc. When I was in the city all the folks were well. David T. (Bob) and Alley have gone to help bring home the emigration. Henry, what money you earn on the railroad I wish you to keep, for your mother writes the children are all destitute. I do not wish you to take anything but money for your work. Well, good bye, and God bless you is the prayer of
Your father,
J. H. Martineau

(copied from Page 265 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Henry Augustus (son of James Henry) Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau who is in a surveying camp between Brigham City and Willard Utah. Aug 22, 1868. Camp between Brigham City and Willard
Aug. 22, 1868
Dear Henry:
A few days ago I received a letter from your mother stating that you had gone to Weber River to work on the railway. This surprised me somewhat, knowing that I had made arrangements with Br. Stewart for you to learn the carpenter trade. He had no right to take you away in that manner, and it is something I shall inquire into after awhile. I certainly am not willing for you to do work of that kind (which is not learning a trade) and for him to make money out of your labor in that way. If I had known you were there when I came up from town I should have gone to see you.
I am about to start for the desert on Tuesday next going by Bear River Bridge. We intend to go west of that point about 75 miles and then begin to locate the road. It is not yet fully decided whether the road will go round the north or south end of the Lake. Your mother wrote that Jesse and Joel have the whooping cough. Joel is getting very poor and thin.
Henry, I want you to be a good boy, and never use bad language; above all, never take the name of God in vain. Do not get into any dangerous places, as under caving banks of earth or rocks, or into the river where it is deep. Pray night and morning and write home often. I shall pray for you every day that you may be blessed and preserved from evil. I hope you will pray for me and the rest of the family also every day, and remember that to become a great man you must be good.
I suppose it will be about three weeks before I return from the desert, so you probably will not receive any more letters from me for a time, but I shall not forget you. I am Topographer of our party, and my business is to make all the maps and drawings of the railway route, the streams, mountains, etc. When I was in the city all the folks were well. David T. (Bob) and Alley have gone to help bring home the emigration. Henry, what money you earn on the railroad I wish you to keep, for your mother writes the children are all destitute. I do not wish you to take anything but money for your work. Well, good bye, and God bless you is the prayer of
Your father,
J. H. Martineau

To Elvira (daughter of James Henry) Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau who is in a surveying camp between Brigham City and Willard Utah. Aug 23, 1868. Camp near Brigham City
August 23, 1868
My dear daughter Elvira:
Two days ago I received a letter from you enclosed in one from your mother. I was glad to get a letter from you, and to find that you think enough of your father to write to him. I answered the one you wrote to me before, and enclosed it to you in your mother's letter, which I am afraid she never got. I hope you will be a good girl. Mind your mother and be kind to all your brothers and sister. I want you to kiss little Nettie and Lillie for me a dozen times, and little Joel and the rest of the children as often as you please. Also kiss your mother and Aunt Susan for me. Always, go in good company, and do not go romping-round on Sunday. I want you to become a lady. I think that you are a good girl, and more lady like than some others I know of. Well, I must close this, as it is almost night. Give my love to Moroni and tell him I will write to him bye and bye. So good bye from you
Loving father, J. H. Martineau
(copied from Page 266 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau who is in a surveying camp between Brigham City and Willard Utah. Aug 23, 1868. Camp 5 miles south of Brigham City
August 23rd, 1868, Sunday
Susan E.
Dear Wife:
As you will see by the date of this, Sunday is my day for writing letters. All the rest of the week I am very busy in keeping up my maps, etc. of the survey, and so I have to write on Sundays. I rec'd your letter dated the 15th inst. A few days ago at Ogden, and was sorry to learn you had not got the money I sent you from S.L. City. I wrote you about the 4th or 5th inst. After receiving my pay to date -- $30.00 and sent $10 each to you and Susan keeping $10 for some necessary purchases I had to make and debts to pay. I supposed you had got them, but if not, then my work for July was almost entirely lost. Well, I have done the best I could, and have prayed much for wisdom, and for the Lord to open up the way before me. I have faith that all will be right yet. I do not yet know whether my pay will be more than $50 per month or not. I think it will not. But I am doing well learning practical Engineering, and am well thought of by Mr. Blickensdiffer, the Engineer who has charge of the road from Green River to Humbolt. He told me lately that I was doing well, which, from him, is saying much. He is difficult to please, but I like him very well. He and Genl. Dodger passed us a few days ago and have preceded us to the west.
I am sorry that our crop turns out so badly, but I suppose it cannot be helped. We can only try the harder to make the deficiency. I believe if we wish to be blessed that we must live so as to please God. He will then delight to bless us. If we do not so live, we must expect to be chastened in order to bring us to realize the necessity of being true saints. If this is true of our temporal welfare, how much more of our spiritual blessings. When our children are sick, we need faith and power with God, that they may live and not die. We need faith that they may be healed. I hope you will not neglect anything that you can do for the benefit of our children. I wish you would take the sick ones (you and Susan) and have Br. Benson bless them. I mean Jesse and Joel, or others that may be sick. I earnestly exhort you to live in peace and harmony, that you may have power over sickness and save your children. Without the Holy Spirit we can do nothing. I pray you therefore to strive to get and keep that spirit, that you may be strengthened and encouraged. I am afraid you are not as much united as you should be, and I hope that you will put aside every influence that would sever you. If not for my sake, or yours, think of our children, who, if they live, will grow up as you make them and train them by example. I expect to start on Tuesday next from Bear River Bridge for the desert, and after I start, communication will be difficult, and therefore I write the more earnestly now. I believe you will try to do right and that all will be well.
To morrow we finish this part of the line, which we have run from the mouth of Weber, and will start for the desert, going about 75 miles west of Bear R. Bridge to recommence operations. I was glad to get your letter and the one from Jesse N. I did not get it in time to write him. I am not satisfied with Henry going with Stewart and will try to rectify matters when I get back. I did not know he was there having never seen him. I did not go to T. E. Rick's Camp, it being several miles from ours, and not knowing he was there. I write to him to day. Lina Farrell will let you have flour when you need it, and I will repay him when I get home. He will give out land certificates and collect the pay, so you need not think you must go hungry. He is a good man and will be a friend to you in time of need. I will not finish this now, but wait until we turn to the west. So good bye for to day from your loving husband.
Oh, do you think that you can send me "George" with saddle and old bridle so as to meet me at the bridge on Tuesday? If you can, do so. Never mind the horse. I cannot get him in time. I enclose $20.00 of which you can each have ten. Now we are about to start, crossing Bear River by the ferry instead of the bridge. Well, Susan, good bye for the present. I can only say, God bless you all, and keep you from evil is the prayer of
Your husband,
J. H. Martineau
I send some photographs of our party, two for each.

(copied from Page 267 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry Martineau in the Surveying Camp near Brigham City, Utah From Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah, Sept 11, 1868
Logan Sept. 11, 1868
Dear James:
We received your letter today (that is Susan did) and I being here of course had to read it and think you are quite partial but will try to look over it this time if you don't forget me the next. I suppose you think we have nothing to do but find fault with each other but if you could take a peep at us tonight you would not think so. We are trying to do the best we can to carry out your council and advice ever since you left home, and I know that we have been more blest than before.
As for the children they all have the cough but Joel is getting quite hearty again for which I feel very thankful. Moroni has a very bad cough but it is only a bad cold, but it is very troublesome at nights. He is working in the hayfield now. I think they will finish next week. The Farnes did not fulfill their promise so you will have to settle with them when you get home. Lou is trying to fulfill his agreement and will soon have gone. Henry was here about a week and he got your letter while here. He is well and seems very well satisfied with the place and work. He says he earns from ten to 16 dollars a day at making wheelbarrows. Stewart has moved his family out there now and expects to stay all winter. I do not like the idea for Henry ought to go to school this winter. Elvira is asleep or I think she would write some this time. She was very much pleased with her letter and said she would write again. She don't much like the idea of your staying another month for she has to go to singing school alone which is not very pleasant.
The new school house is done at last and Louisa is teaching school there now. E. L. Benson has got a contract out west somewhere. Will Robinson is going to take charge. Melina and Mary Larsen are going as cooks. There are a great many from here. Tom Cardon is going and Sill Collett and Alvin Crockett have gone to Webber as soon as the thing is done. A great many are going for the railroad. It seems a long time since I saw you and I hope you will not have to stay there much longer. My paper is full so I shall have to wind up.
From your loving wife,
S. E. M.
I thank you for your good advice and will try and improve by it. Penrose will be here today. Bishop Preston and Moses Thatcher got home a few days ago.


(copied from Page 269 in Nephi Martineau Book) To James Henry Martineau From Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah, April 27th, 1869
Logan, April 27th, 1869
Dear Husband:
I received your letter to day and hasten to answer it. Susan is getting along very well. Sunday after you went away she got up and walked around awhile and it helped her feet very much, and to day she has been away a good part of the day so don't worry about her for I think she will get along now with care.
The boys got the potatoes yesterday, 10 bushells from Peterson, 7 from George and 4 from Sister Maughan, and a few beans. She said she owed you 6. Dollars but I did not know anything about it.
The boys have laid out the garden and have been plowing and sowing wheat to day. I am glad that you can sleep in town at night so I will not feel so worried about you. I am glad you don't have to go out of this valley, for now I have some chance of hearing from you. Write every possible chance and let us know your whereabouts. Don't fail for I would like to hear from you every day if I could!
I don't know of any news. I will send Jack and other things as you requested. I can't think of any thing more but will write again soon as I hear from you.
From your afft. Wife,
Susan E. Martineau
Where is the key to your desk? Susan says she knows nothing about it.

(copied from Page 270 in Nephi Martineau Book) To Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah From James Henry Martineau in Wellsville, Utah, May 4, 1869
Wellsville, May 4, 1869 (Tues.)
My dear wife:
I hastily drop a few lines to let you know my whereabouts. I finished at Mendon yesterday and got here last night. Today I go to Hyrum which I expect to be about three days, thence by Millville (?), Providence and to Logan, where I hope to see you by Sat. or Sunday next.
I have been well since leaving home, but very busy. I hope you and all the children are well. I have sent my box, socks, and book by mail today. You can have $5.00 more of the money there is left for needful purposes.
I hope Moroni will be energetic about putting in the seed. Nearly everyone is done I find. The field peas should be sown at once, to do anything. Potatoes likewise. If anything of importance occurs, you can let me know. Accept for yourself and children the love of
Your Aff. Husband,
J. H. Martineau
(copied from Page 271 in Nephi Martineau Book) To James Henry Martineau From Susan Ellen dated in Logan, Utah, July 9th, 1869
Logan July 9th, 1869
My dear husband:
I have been waiting some time for an answer to my letters to you and Henry but have concluded you had not got them. So I will write again. I sent letters to Kaysville, 2 for you and 1 for Henry. I think you will get them sometime. The last was about the hay. Blanchard offers to cut it or cut, haul and stack it for you just as you please. He wants an answer right away for the bottom land has been ready some time. Let me know soon as you can for it is time.
Moroni says the potatoes in the field look well, not much corn. I don't think there is any wheat at all. Well enough of that.
Well, I will try and tell you what news there is stirring. Brother Tarbet and Aaron Thatcher were called to go on a mission, Tarbet to the Isle of Man and Aaron I think to England. Almost everybody is at work in Logan Canyon, working a road thru to Bear Lake and to get out timber. It was the President's orders. I spoke to Brother Maughan about some wood. He said he would see what he could do about it. I suppose Susan has told you about the money we had. She said she was going to do so. Bro. Card's first wife is very sick. She was taken very sudden last Sunday morning and has been in a dangerous condition most of the time since. They don't know exactly what ails her. Mrs. Paynter has another girl. Sister Merrill has got home from the States. She brought considerable Property with her goods.
Nephi has gone to Morgan City and is hauling ties at about $4 a day. He will stay about a month. His family are going out to him. Anna is staying here now. She has been here 2 weeks. She would like to see you and Henry very much. I cannot get my stamps. Lina sent for some and got $75.00 worth but they were all damaged and they sent them back. Well Elvira wants to write so I will stop. The children often ask why Pa don't come home. Even little Joel wants Pa to "tum ome" come home, and I myself would like to see you and Henry very much. Oh, I will send Jackson's letter and see what you think of it. If you stay until fall I could go down there and get back the last of September. The haying will soon be done and the team will have nothing to do.
Do you think you could go this fall? When you write please tell me all about it and what you think would be best. I could go down when Nephi and Charley go so I would have company. Well I will close so Good-bye for the present from you Duck of a Wife,
Susan E. Martineau

(copied from Page 272 in Nephi Martineau Book) To Susan Ellen Martineau From her daugher Elvira, dated Oct 10, 1873, Logan City, Utah
Logan City, Oct. 10, 1873
My Dear Mother:
I received your letter and was very glad to hear from you once more. We are all well at present except Lillie and she is gaining slowly. Susan and Father went to Salt Lake last Thursday and I expect them home today.
I have got all of the fruit in except the currants and have not had time to gather them yet but am going to pick them in a day or two. I have had a very miserable time with my hand. I have had a gathering on my thumb and a boil on my finger so I have not done much.
I have got a nice present for Trudie on her birthday. Lizzie Walker is here. She came yesterday and is going to stay 4 or 5 days. We are very comfortable and enjoy ourselves very much although we don't go out very much. The girls come and see us. Lizzie sends her love to you all.
Susan has been very good to us ever since you were away. I help her all I can and she does the same by me. Mr. Wallis is still here. He often says he wishes he could see Trudie and partner. He says it is lonesome without them. He always enquires about you when we get a letter and told me to send his regards to you and Henry.
What have you concluded to do about staying all winter? If you are comfortable and don't get homesick, I think it best for you to stay, for it is so very cold to travel. It snowed here Wednesday and there has been ice in the ditch. Well give my love to all and keep a large share for yourself.
From your affectionate daughter,
Elvira
To James H. Martineau From Susan Ellen dated October 19, 1873, Hillsdale, Utah,
Addressed to James H. Martineau from his wife Susan Ellen J. Martineau
Hillsdale, October 19, 1873
Dear Husband:
After so long a time I will try to write you a letter. I have not heard from home but once since I left. We have traveled very slowly. We think of starting Monday for Parowan. Will stay one day there and then to Bellevue. I do not know when we will leave there. The children have been generally well with the exception of bowell complaints which has troubled them considerably. But I think they are improving now.
We arrived here the fourteenth and found all well except Lydia who has been very sick for about 6 weeks. Two or three times they thought she would die, but she is now gaining slowly. Seth has six children here. The boys are building and gathering in their garden sass and they are all very busy. It is very cold nights now but hope the weather will moderate soon.
Everyone of our friends I have met so far say I had better stay all winter. But I can't think of it. So far I do not know what Father will say, but I think there's no place like home. Although all have been very kind.
David has moved back here again. Julia and Nannie are going to Parowan with us. Mother will go to Virgin City with us. Try to send us a letter to Bellevue. You must excuse this short letter for I am washing and getting ready to start tomorrow. Don't neglect to write because I do. You know my failing. What are the children doing? They don't write. You can send letters to Bellevue until Nov. 1st. Love to all, in haste.
E. Martineau
P. S. I send you some stamps.
(copied from Page 275 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James H. Martineau in Logan, Utah From Susan Ellen dated October 29th, 1873, Bellevue, (Southern) Utah, Addressed to James H. Martineau from his wife, Susan Ellen Johnson.
Bellevue Oct. 29th, 1873
Dear Husband:
I received your welcome letter at Parowan and was very glad to hear from home once more. I thought you were glad to be rid of me so easily and you thought it not worth while to write to me, but I am glad to think I was mistaken, and now hope to hear from you often.
The children are well and enjoy themselves pretty well I guess. Trudy don't say anything about home, only when she gets hurt. Then she wants to tell Pa or Vira. We left Hillsdale Monday 20th, and arrived at Parowan 22nd. Found all well. The place is very much changed since we left. Some houses looked natural. I saw a great many old friends who seemed glad to see me. And Messrs Dame, Silas, Jesse, S. H. Rogers and W. C. Mitchell send their kind regards to you, and wish to be remembered among your friends. Julia and Janet seem to enjoy themselves very well. Aunt Almira's health is not very good. She things she is dropsical.
Left Parowan 27th. Got here the 28th all well. Mother is with us from Hillsdale and is giong to Virgin City which will be our next destination. Uncle Joseph says I must be sure to visit his family at Washington and St. George. But I have not decided yet. It would take me until next fall to visit all the people and places where I have been invited. I do not know what I shall do yet. Father wants Henry to stay here this winter and work for him but he wants to go to Hillsdale and go to school. Seth wants him to help him too. But I think there will be warm weather enough to get home and that is all I care for. I feel that (Tis home where the heart is) and (be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.)
We have had considerable rough weather in the last 2 weeks. I saw Alby's folks. They are in what I call middling circumstances in household goods. I think they are equal to us with the exception of a stove, and that Alby thinks he can get this Fall. They have lived better than I have this summer, having milk, meat, butter most of the time. Their house is small but far better than the one I lived in for 8 years. Mary is almost as fat as I am. She is very saving and sometimes goes out to do a day's work. Everything looks neat and comfortable. I give Mary credit for being a good housekeeper. Well I can't think of anything more now so good-night.
From your affectionate wife
Susan E. Martineau
P.S. Don't wait for me to write. You have a better chance than I.
LOVE TO ALL
To Susan Ellen in Southern Utah From one of her children (unsigned letter) dated January 4th, 1874, Logan, Utah Logan, January 4th, 1874
Dear Mother:
It is with the greatest of pleasure that I set down to write you a few lines. How ar(e) you getting along? We are all well and hope you are the same.
Charley (?) got some toys for Girttrude and Fred (?) some to(o). I am going to stay there all winter. I have started to school.
Is Albert going to school this winter? Susan is sick. We don't expect she will live long. She has got the dropsy very bad. Father says it's better that you should know how bad she is and that is why I write this to you. I go to see her very often, She has been very good to us since you halve been away and I like her for it.
I missed you and the children more at Christmas and New Year's than any other time since you have been gone.
Well Mother, how does Trudie and Theedie get along and do they ever speak of me? How did you enjoy yourselves Christmas? I enjoyed myself splendid; had plenty of nuts and candy. I can't think of anything more to write.
(Unsigned.)

(copied from Page 277 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen Martineau in Hillsdale, (Southern) Utah From her daughter Elvira in Logan, Utah just a few days before the death of Susan Julia Sherman Martineau. Letter addressed to Susan E. Martineau in Hillsdale a few days before the death of the second wife, Susan Julia Martineau. From daughter Elvira who was caring for Susan J.'s children.
Dear Mother:
Nephi has just brought this from the Doctor's to put in mine. Susan is worse today. The Relief Society is helping her. They are making the children's clothes. She said when her funeral comes she wants them to have good clothes. Mrs. Bevans has been sick for 2 weeks but is better now.
That is all at present.
From Elvira
(copied from Page 278 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry Martineau in Logan, Utah, From Susan Ellen in Hillsdale,(Southern) Utah Feb 10th, 1874. Hillsdale Feb. 10th 1874
My dear husband:
My only wish is to be at home with my family. It seems so long since I left home I can hardly bear to think of it. I have had a great desire to be at home on Susan's account as well as yours. I have anticipated a great deal on seeing Susan again and telling her about old friends and places at Parowan. A great many sent their kind regards to her and you. Oh James, it seems so hard to be so far away from you and cannot help you or be a comfort to you in your time of need. I don't know how we will do without Susan for her children's sake. They need a mother's care. I will try to be a mother to them (not finished)
Feb 15th
Dear James:
I cannot write to you now. If only I could see you I could talk to you but I cannot write. When I think of home I can see Susan as I parted with her and cannot realize our love as you can who have been with her all the time. She has been sick so long I did not think it possible for her to be taken from us. I have no hard feelings against Dr Morley and hope he harbors none against me. We will have to forget the past and look to the future, it may have better days for us. We must put our trust in our Heavenly Father. He knows what is best for us. I will close praying our Father to comfort and bless you continually.
S.E.M.

(copied from Page 279 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Henry A. Martineau, in Southern Utah, From his sister Elvira in Logan, Utah March 21st, 1874 Logan, March 21st, 1874
My Dear Brother:
I will try and write to you again. I have written 3 letters and received none in answer, and I suppose it is on account of the mail. Sometimes we get the mail once in a week and sometimes every day. The snow is 2 feet deep on the level. I get letters from Mrs. McColloh all the time. She seems to be enjoying herself very well. Her husband has joined the Temperance Society and she feels quite delighted. His mother sent her a beautiful set of silver ware and a good many other nice presents.
Mrs. ______ was here the other day with her husband. (She is as happy as a woodchuck.) We had an invitation to go to Mendon to a dance Next Friday evening and I guess I shall go. I have not went to very many dances here this winter. I have been to one in Logan and several in Mendon.
I burnt my arm very bad about 2 weeks ago and took cold in it. It has been so bad that I could hardly do any work at all. I now have 12 little ___ (cat?) boils on my arm between my wrist and elbow (quite a large family of pets to take care of.)
Well Henry, I am very glad to hear that you intend to settle somewhere, for I have always been afraid that you would never settle in Utah. You must write and tell your sister all about it, who it is and where she lives. I expect I shall live down that way sometime and then we will be neighbors won't we. Moroni is still in the canyon. He has worked there for almost 6 weeks. Nephi is still at the Drs. On his birthday he got some new clothes. I made him 2 new shirts and the Dr. gave him a pair of new pants. He is clothed better now than he ever was in his life before. He comes home quite often and the children have a good deal of fun dancing and playing games.
The children seem to be satisfide here. They never mention their mother unless someone speaks about it. They all mind me and we get along very well. Moroni and I get along splendid. We never quarrel at all and have not since you went away.
Have you got my picture? I sent it the last time I wrote. I sent it to Mother and she can give it to Aunt Sally if she wants to. I want to see you all and especially the baby and Trudie, Joel, Albert, Mother and Henry. The rest I don't care much about (I mean my brothers and sisters that are with you.) I asked Elyra (?) if he answered your letter and he said that it was the only letter he ever received in his life and he never wrote on in his life so he could not answer it.
Lizzie Garnes sends her love to her oldest son and wants to see him. She says she expects that you will get married down there and then she will never see you any more. I can't think of any more nonsense to write this time. I will write a long letter to Mother in a day or two.
Give my love to the folks and kiss Mother and the children for me. This is from your sister,
Elvira

(copied from Page 280 and 281 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Moroni (son of JHM & SEJM), in Logan, Utah, From his mother Susan Ellen in Hillsdale, Utah March 24th, 1874 Hillsdale, March 24th, 1874
My Dear Son Moroni:
I have written a few lines to you before but will try and write more now. Henry got his letter and book all right. I am sorry your ____ is gone. She was a very good one but she was very old. I think Aleck B. done splendid. He married quite an establishment and family _____.
I am glad you have got a sheep at last. I hope it will increase to a flock soon especially the wether.
Well, the children are all well now and want to come home very bad. What are you doing in the canyon? I mean what are you getting out timber for? What have you done to the place since I left? Have you made any fence yet? Is the kitchen lathed and plastered yet? What do you think of doing this summer? Will we have hay, enough hay to do our stock until grass grows? Has any of our stock died and how do you get along for grub this winter? Well, I can't think of anything more to night so will close.
From Mother
Write again soon and don't take a fence (offense) because I thought one letter would do for all.

(copied from Page 282 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James H. & Susan Ellen in Logan, Utah, From their daughter, Elvira in Hillsdale (Southern) Utah March 6th, 1876 Hillsdale, March 6th, 1876
Dear Father and Mother:
We arrived here last night and found everybody well except Uncle Seth and he does not feel very well. We are staying here today because it is Uncle Seth's birthday. He is 37 to day. We have had very bad roads since we left Monroe, but got through them all right, did not have any accidents at all.
We left Spring Lake on the 21st, left the folks all well except Jed and he had the measles. Pa (?) seemed to feel firstrate about our going, although he did not even ask us if we had a 1000 dollar outfit. He gave us 2 brooms, 1 1/2 gallon of molasses and 2 cans of fruit and that was all that Spring Lake could afford us.
We have had a very hard time to get any hay. Hay has been so high (and our money so low) that we could hardly make both ends meet. Hay is $20 dollars per ton. The teams have gone on and we will not go until tomorrow. There is another company expected here tonight.
I have had very good health since we started. I caught quite a cold last week and night before last I was coughing and kinked my neck so I have not been able to turn my head or hardly move it.
Julia Wilson is here yet. She looks better than I ever saw her before. I would like to see everybody. How does ___ little Annie feel by this time? Kiss Trudie and Ginnie for us. Give my love to Sister Adeline and remember me to all my friends and don't forget yourselves. Aunt Dana sends love to all.
Tom is off with the boys somewhere. Write to us as soon as you can. From your loving daughter Elvira, to Father and Mother and Moroni and the rest.
March 7th
As the mail has not gone yet I thought I would write a little. We had a very good time yesterday. Aunt Lydia got up a splendid dinner which we all enjoyed very much and in the evening we had a bussing (?) bee and they all enjoyed themselves and especially Uncle Seth, and he was all fun. He has given me several dollars worth of things, such as needles, pins, buttons, caps, combs and a dozen other things, which came in very handy. We are going to start this morning and will have company until we catch the other teams. Write to us as soon as possible. From your loving daughter,
Elvira
(copied from Page 284 in Nephi Martineau Book)
Logan, April 1st, 1876 (?)
My Dear Aunt Susan:
It has been a long time since I have wrote to you. They are all well except me. I have a very bad cold and at night I have the croup.
Moroni and Nephi are gone to the kanion this morning. The men have started to lay track to Franklin. Father has gone to up north this morning to survey.
How are you getting along? Are you all well?
Love to all. I can't think of anything else so good by for present.
From Charles Martineau
Write soon to me. Net wants to write.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My Dear Brother Albert:
I thought that I would write you a letter. There is no news to write now. I would like to see you all very much. Virginia has all most been barefoot but now she has got some new shoes. I wish that you were all home now and I guess you wish that you was here to(o).
Have you got any money yet? Elvira said that she had sent you some money. Well, we are all well at present but Charley and he has got the croop now. Elvira enjoied herself very much. She went to t(w)o danses and one theatre. This is all that I can think of at present so good by from
Your sister,
cNettie Martineau

(copied from Page 285 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry & Susan Ellen Martineau in Logan, Utah From their daughter Elvira Johnson (married name) in Johnson, (Southern) Utah Dated April 1st, 1876. Johnson, April 1st, 1876
Dear Father and Mother:
We arrived here last Saturday all well. The horses look well. Henry has been to Belvue. He has been there 2 weeks but got home last night. He saw Aunt Sariah and they are all well and are doing firstrate.
We did not stop in Kanab when we came through, so we did not see any of our folks. Yesterday we watched for Henry and Lissie to come home from Belvue but they did not come so I went and got our horses and _____took us out to meet them and we went to Kanab and found them just starting. We went in the house and found John Egar quite sick. Saw Susie and Annie Tinney and they were all well.
Grandmother has gone to Parowan so I will not see her. The boys have gone to St. George and I expect them back tomorrow. I am going to get 2 kids to take with us. Uncle Sixtus has got a good many nice ones.
Bro. Shumway is coming here to live. He has rented some land of Uncle Sixtus. I have enjoyed myself very much since I left home, that is as well as I could in mudholes and snow. Had very lively times getting stalled and pulling out again. We have had good luck since we started, have not broken or lost anything.
Have not heard a word from home since I left and it makes me feel quite blue. Sometimes our folks have been very kind to us and have given us a good many little things which we were very thankful. It has been quite cold here for a day or two but it is warm to day.
How is little Annie? I do want to see her and all the rest of the children and folks. Give my best regards to Sister Benson and all the girls and especially Mary Cole (?). I shall never forget her kindness. When is Moroni going to start down this way?
I want you all to write to me and direct your letters to Johnson and Henry will see that I get them. The mail is ready to start so I must stop now. Do write soon and don't forget me. I have written all I can think of. Henry and Lissie send their love to all. Henry says he will answer your letter in a few days. Good bye from your loving daughter,
Elvira Johnson
(copied from Page 286 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry & Susan Ellen Martineau in Logan, Utah From their daughter Elvira Johnson (married name) in Johnson, (Southern) Utah Dated Dec. 3, 1876. Johnson, Dec. 3d, 1876
Dear Father and Mother:
As it is Sunday I thought I would write again. We received those things which you kindly sent to us and will say we thank you a thousand times for them and some day perhaps we can repay you in some way or another.
Henry and Lissa have gone to Hillsdale and it seems quite lonesome today. Sam I went to Panguich and staid 2 weeks with John and Mary Alger (?). Sam got work on the thrashing machine and done first-rate. John and Sam have gone into a kind of partnership, that is put in their grain, flour, stock and such things and they feel quite encouraged. While one is working for provisions for us all the other is working for clothing and such things so that by working together they have got quite a good start.
They have some eight or ten cows with calves, 2 good span of horses and one mare besides several Beef steers; little over 10 hundred of flour and 10 gallons of molasses and I think we have almost enough to go back with. The boys are trying hard to get reach (rich) and start back as soon as possible, that is within about six weeks if all is well. My health is splendid. Considering all things, I feel as though we have been greatly blessed although sometimes we felt as though we did not know what to do or where to turn but for all that things seem to turn into our hands so that we have done firstrate.
We bought 5 gallon of wine from Bellvue for you and Henry took it to Hillsdale so I suppose he will get a chance to send it to you. I did not like the idea of going back without seeing you but the boys thought it would be best to go back as soon as possible so as to try and build a house for Mary and I before they commenced spring work so I concluded to go back, at least as far as the river and then stay a while there while the rest go on home to Moancoppy which is 75 miles from the river. Sam and I will stay with Mrs. Emma Lee a while and then go on home. These are our calculations now, and of course do not know what might happen to prevent us. Sam is going to send to Salt Lake for me a feather bed and if I get it I shall feel very proud. Bro. Munson is going up there for goods so he can bring it back with him.
What is dear little Annie doing? You don't know how bad I want to see her and all the rest of the children. Aunt Martha Jane has a fine girl a week old. Everybody is getting along firstrate here. Moroni and Nephi are at Hillsdale. I am looking for Moroni back in about a week.
(Date unreadable)
(A few days later)
I will now finish my letter before the mail starts. I am very glad to hear that you are getting along so well and getting things so comfortable around you, and I hope that times will be brighter in the future than they have been in the past.
Sam has gone to Panguich for a load of grain for _____ sisters. He went last Monday and I expect him back Saturday night.
We are having splendid weather. We have not had a storm since I have been here. I would be very glad if it would not storm for a month yet for there is so much travel on this road now and if it storms it will put a stop to it as it will be so muddy that it will be almost impossible to travel. The road is constantly lined with teams going south and I wish every day that we were ready to go back now with the rest.
I am giong to write to Lizzie as soon as I can. I have neglected it so long that I was ashamed to write to her. I am so very busy now getting ready to start that I can hardly take time to eat. I have been making Sam some pants today. I am going to quilt me a quilt next week and will make the bats tomorrow.
Well enough of this. Give my love to all, my friends included, and write soon to us.
Sam and Elvira

(copied from Page 287 & 288 in Nephi Martineau Book) To James Henry & Susan Ellen Martineau in Logan, Utah From their daughter Elvira Johnson (married name) near Johnson, (Southern) Utah Dated May 17, 1877. Last Chance
May 17th, 1877
Dear Father and Mother:
Your ever welcome letter dated May 7th came today, the first we have had since one dated Apr. 1st, and you may be sure we were very thankful to hear from you again. I am very much pleased to hear of my little brother but much more to see him, and all the rest. I am glad to hear that Mother is getting along as well. I would like so well if I could be with her, but of course there is no use wishing. The men are very busy plowing. They have in some 15 acres of corn and cane besides a good garden. They can turn their corn and molasses in to flour and other things this fall and then go home to Moancoppy.
It is quite lonesome here. There is but us two women and 3 men and two small children and we all live together and do the best we can. We hardly see anybody, but our selves for weeks at a time. The boys have 4 good span of animals to work which makes the work roll on. I am so much in hopes of seeing you all this fall and I hope I shall not be disappointed.
I have a little dog named Pinenut and she is a good deal of company for me when Sam is a way. It seems as though I must pet something if it is only a dog. Tell ______I would like to see her. I do wish she would get married and come and live here with us.
How does Ellen and all the get along? Do you ever see Valeria? I would like to hear of her. Well I can't write any news of interest for there is not much to write. I have written several letters since I received any from home.
I loft this for a couple of days to see if I could think of any more to write, but I can't so I will close for this time. Johny is just ready to take the mail. Well love to all. Dear Mother, I hope you can get about without taking cold this time. Write to us as often as you can.
As ever your loving
Elvira Johnson

(copied from Page 289 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To James Henry & Susan Ellen Martineau in Logan, Utah From their daughter Elvira Johnson (married name) in Last Chance [near Johnson, (Southern)] Utah Dated June 23rd, 1877. Last Chance
June 23rd, 1877
My Dear Mother, Father:
Again I try and write you a few lines in reply to the last letter you wrote to us. We are all (______) and doing well as could be expected of us. We have got in all the crop, all but replanting some that has failed in coming up. That is up looks splendid. It is about 12 inches high, from just out of the ground to 12 inches and some yet not out of the ground, but is still coming. Our water dried up so some of our crops suffered a little for want of it, but it is coming down again so we can water that that needs it. The most of it is damp enough. We had to carry water for our garden. The garden is looking first rate. We will have plenty of melons this summer if nothing happens.
Oh how I wish that you could come down here this fall and see us. We cannot hardly think of going back with out seeing our Dear Parents, those that we love so Dear and those that are so dear to us, but if we have to we will try and think it for the best, whether we can of not. If you come try and come early in the fall. I would like to have a good talk with you before I go on over the river and must if _______(passable; possible??). But Father Johnson is feeling first rate _______us know. He has wrote us a good many letters since he went home and good letters to(o). I am looking for a letter from him this mail. He says they are getting along first rate. This summer they are all working together and all.
I went over to Johnson the other day. Found them all well. Sixtus is making cheese. He was milking 65 cows and still getting up more to milk while I was there. I found one of mine that I did never expect to see again. Also a 2-year-old heifer. There is 2 more gone that I have not seen since last fall, one yearling and one 2-year-old but I guess I will find them now. I hope so any how tho(ugh). One you gave Elvira is ___and I saw her just before I came over here. Joel to(o) saw her a short time a go and he said she was going to have a calf. I think she will make a good cow. Elvira is grately taken up with her. She feels awful proud of her and brags about her to me, about her cow and what she is going to do with her increas(e). She is going to give Samuel Joseph one when he gets married, also Susan Mary and Trudy Vilute, James Benjamin, also the _____ twins she is going to give each one, one or 2 cows a peace besides selling some of them and getting her a feather bed and other things to fix her up in the house. I think she will increase finely, do not you, if she does well. I guess this is enough of such nonsense.
We are talking of going over to Johnson to spend the ____ of July. Oh yes, you did not tell us what the baby's name was. We want to know what our little brother's name is and kiss little Annie for us and write soon to us.
As ever your children,
B. Samuel and Elvira Johnson

To Susan Ellen Martineau From James Henry Martineau in Logan Utah, No Date but shortly after the death of Susan Julia. Also a letter from Nephi to his brother Henry, and a short note from Elvira to her mother (No date)
Dear Henry:
I've saved your letter and ____ letter, too. Why don't you rite? How is Theadore? Is he ____ and Joel and Albert? When are you coming home? I wish I could see you. It has been so long since I halve seen you that I halve most forgotten how you look. Susan is dead and I went to her funeral. I halve an apple that she gave me before she dide. How are you getting along? We are all well and hope you are the same. Elisabath Walker is married. I wish you were home. So good bye for the present,
Nephi
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Dear Susan:
Nephi did not finish his letter, and so I did for him. It is quite late, and tomorrow I must go to Franklin to see about a bridge there. I dread the trip. The weather is cold, and snow a foot deep.
We are all well but me. I have had a bad cough for 5 or 6 weeks, and feel quite poorly. We are getting along first rate, considering you are not here. Elvira does exceedingly well -- in fact is quite like a mother. But of course no one can fell a wife's place. I want you to come as soon as the weather will permit, but not before. Do not expose the children to storm and cold if it can be helped.
Give my love to all my friends, and tell them to write to me. I will answer, but I dread to write to anyone, unless obliged to do so. I do not know what makes me so shiftless about it. Elvira wants to put in some, so I will close. Accept my love, my dear wife. Kiss all the children (Henry too) for me, and write soon to:
Your husband, J. H. Martineau
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My Dear Mother:
As it is customary for all hands and the cook to write, of course I have to write a few words. I sent Henry 7 valentines, 4 Burlesques, 3 small ones, all I could get. Bertha sends her love to you all. Kiss Trudie and the baby for me.
Elvira

(copied from Page 296 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen Martineau probably from Elvira at Moyencoppy (Southern Utah), May 9th and May 12th. Moyencoppy May 9th
(A letter supposedly written by daughter Elvira.)
Well, I guess I will write a little today. We have been expecting the mail in from Kanab for almost a week but it has not arrived yet. I have just been down to the garden eating bread and butter and onions, and they was so good. The crop is almost all in and I guess that they will finish this week.
The Indians came up from the village Sunday evening and danced for us. They were pointed and looked and danced splendid, and as for time I don't think it could be beat.
May 12th.
I have just been down to the village this evening and saw some very curious sheep. Some of them have 4 and 5 horns and even 7. They are an inferior kind with very long wool and very thin heads and are very ugly. A man by the name of Frank Hammond died up in Lot Smith's Company of Lung Fever the other Day.

(copied from Page 297 in Nephi Martineau Book)
To Susan Ellen Martineau and James Henry Martineau from Elvira (Johnson) at Spring Lake (Southern Utah), No Date
Spring Lake (No date)
My Dearest Mother and Father:
Your welcome letter was received and was very glad to hear from you. We are as well as usual. We went to Sanpeet and was gone almost a week. Had a pretty good time and Ellen Shearman came home with us and stayed 3 weeks but I sent her home Saturday. She told more stories than one could believe in a lifetime.
There is not many peaches now. I have only dried a few and I am just commencing to dry mine. They are fast getting ripe. I have another little sister this morning. Sarah Malissa (?) is the owner. We have got our molasses done now altogether, 188 gal(l)ons. And I think we will have enough to last us this winter.
Sam is hauling corn today and expects to finish this week. Then we will get ready for Conference. We are going with our team and father said that you would meet us there and then if we can make satisfactory arrangements with you about coming up we will come back and then move up there.
How does my little blue-eyed pet get along and Trudie and Virginie? I would like to write to all of you but there is not enough to write about. I ought to write to Moroni but I don't know of anything that would interest him.
We get to the Junction regular and it is a source of pleasure to us for that is about all the news that I get. How does the Reformation work up that way? A good many down this way are getting rebaptised. And Bishop will be down here next Friday and baptise and hold a meeting. We are now united to ______(Summit??) and Bishop Halliday presides over both places. I guess that you have heard that ______ oldest boy died last week of fever I believe and Aunt Harriet's Josephine has lost a pair of twins.
Well, that is all I can think of at present. Write soon and let us know whether you will come to S.L.C. or not. Give my love to all. Kiss Moroni and the baby and the little girls and boys for me and I will tend to the rest when I see them. Write soon to your children,
Elvira
I had to write this with a pencil so please excuse this.

(copied from Page 298 in Nephi Martineau Book)






Susan Ellen Johnson Martineau


My father, Patriarch Joel Hills Johson, was baptized into the Church of Later-day Saints June 1, 1831, at the age of 39 years. I was born in Kirtland, Ohio July 11, 1836 and when 2 years old our people were driven from Kirtland, and so we started for Missouri with the Kirtland camp. When we reached Springfield, Illinois, there was considerable sickness in the camp. My father's family was among the number compelled or counseled to stay there until all was well. While tarrying there, the people were driven out of Missouri, so my father did not go there, but waited in a small town where there was a large family named Merrill. Father baptized Samuel Merrill and several members of his family -- among them being Phillemon Merrill, now a Patriarch. We stayed at this place, Father preaching and baptizing until his work was done.
Then we went to Carthage, where my brother Seth was born March 9, 1839. We lived near the jail where the prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum were in later days slain and sealed their testimonies to the truth of the Gospel they preached. At this time our family consisted of seven souls. We moved from Carthage to Crooked Creek to Denarts Mill on Crooked Creek.
We bought an interest in the Denarts Mill. The house was built of logs consisting of two rooms connected by a shed room, open to the front. There was where my mother died September 15, 1840, age 40 years, a kind and indulgent mother, a good faithful Latter-day Saint. She was buried in a cemetery of a small town called Macedonia. (Other sources say Ramus or Webster.)
Susan Bryant (or Brient) then came to live with us as housekeeper. Father married her, as his children needed a mother's care. Soon after we moved to Remus. Father built a house there for a family residence. He afterwards built a room on for a store.
My Aunt Almira lived with us at that time and taught school. She was sealed to the Prophet Joseph as his first plural wife. After several years our home was sold to A. W. Babbitt, who named it the Macedonian Cottage.
My Uncle George Johnson went to Nauvoo in February, 1848 and I went to with him to live with my grandma who was quite old and feeble.
On May 8, 1848 my father with his family came to Nauvoo on his way across the plains. The family consisted of eight persons. On the 10th of May they crossed the Mississippi River. I went one day's journey and returned to Nauvoo the next day. It was very hard to see them go and leave me behind, but I felt that it must be and I must make the b st of it. My dear gradmother was good and kind to me, or I could not have borne the parting from brothers and sisters. But I have found that life is not all sunshine. In the June following (1849), my grandmother, lmyself, David LeBaron and family, David Wilson, William Johnson adn wife, and also Uncle Joseph J. Johnson sent a wagon with goods to Aunt Delcina and family. We arrived at Council Bluffs on July 11, my 13th birthday.
We then moved to Plum Hollow. We got there in July and remained there during the summer. During the winter I aqttended school. In tghe early spring, Uncle Joseph and Grandma moved to Kanesville. In June (of 1850) my mothers's sister, Sarah Johnson, came for me to go to California (as Utah was then called).
We left Kanesville June 25th and camped by the Missouri River. We waited there several days for more company and on the 27th crossed the river and found some emigrants waiting for us. There were not 28 wagons with Stephen Markham as Captain. Our company was divided into tens with Artemus Millet as Captain of the first ten, Thomas Forsythe as Captain of the second ten. In the morning a woman died with cholera and was buried in the bank of the river. She was a stranger, having just arrived from England on her way to Utah.
From that time until July 15, someone was buried almost every day. My Aunt Sarah's husband George G. Johnston, his mother and his sister died July 11, on my 14th birthday, and were buried when we stopped at noon the next day, July 12th.
I also had cholera but was healed by the administration of the Elders. When I felt the disease coming on I went into a tent by myself and prayed to the Lord that I might be spared to wait upon the others. I had a testimony that I would be spared. There were 14 who died in our company.
We passed hundreds of graves. Many an evening we saw thousands of buffalo in herds. We passed Independence Rock. It was probably 200 yards wide and 10 or 12 yards high, rising out of the level plain. In the smooth side of the rock were carved or written hundreds of names of those that had passed.
On October 3, 1850 we arrived in Salt Lake City, tired, weary and footsore. I had walked a great deal of the way bar-footed, but I never faltered. Many others were in the same condition.
My father was called to go with George A. Smith and a company of about 50 others to settle Iron County. He fitted out his two oldest sons and sent them down. He prepared to go down in the spring. He sold out his home and farm to Phillemon Merrill for a log house of two rooms in the city, the teams to go with them. In November, my step-mother gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Soon my father was ready to start. He moved his family to Salt Lake City. We heard that George A. Smith and Company had arrived at their destination on Christmas day and held a celebration.
In March, 1851 my father took his fifth wife, Janet, and family to Iron County. My brother Seth, Age 12 years, went with them.
I attended school taught by Mrs. A. H. Goodrich Blair, a lovely woman and a good teacher. When my brother came to get married, Father sent word that he ws to sell our home and get ready to move to Iron County by September 1, which we did in company with Peter Shirts and Family. Darwin Shirts drove our team of oxen. The next day we came up to the rest of our company of three families with plenty of boys and girls to make it pleasant at camping time. We would forget all about being tired and have a good time together. After a trip of two weeks we reached Parowan, Utah, our destination, on September 1, 1851.
(This was written by Susan Ellen Johnson Martineau) See full version on SEJM History Index.
The following was written by her Grandaughter, Elzada Martineau Hurst. It is also edited. See full version on SEJM History Index.
Four months after her arrival in Parowan and after a whirlwind courtship at age 15 1/2, Susan married James Henry Martineau, who was eight years her senior and the village schoolteacher, on January 8, 1852. Her wedding dress was made from material which she herself had woven, as were her other dresses. They started life together with little of this world's goods. Cupboard, table, chairs and bedstead were homemade. The bed had strands of rope woven criss-cross on the bottom to hold the straw tick on which they slept, and she did her cooking on the fireplace.
Marriage is a challenge to any 15 1/2 year-old girl, but to Susan life had been one challenge after another and she was older and wiser than her years and able to do her part, be it milking a cow or doing any of the many tasks involved in poioneer life. Her husband was born and raised New York State and well educated. He had worked at various professions, but had little rural experience. Besides teaching, he was an excellent accountant or clerk and a trained surveyor.

Susan Julia Sherman Martineau b. 31 Oct 1838, Far West, Missouri d. 28 Jan 1874, Logan, Utah USA Age 35
Brief Sketch — Edited
Susan Julia Sherman, the second wife of James Henry Martineau was born in Far West, Missouri on 31 Oct 1838. She was one of seven (or eight?) children of Lyman Royal Sherman and Delcena Diadamia Johnson. Only three of them, Alby, Lyman and Susan, survived to adulthood and to have children of their own.
Her father, Lyman Royal Sherman, was born in 1804 and died in 1839. He joined the LDS church in 1832 and was an early church leader who died after vicious attacks and beatings by mobs, becoming one of the early martyrs of the church.
Her mother, Delcena Johnson, was born 19 November 1806 at Westford, Vermont. She was also an early member of the LDS church. She was an invalid for years and was quite ill when she traveled across the plains in a hammock slung in a wagon bed. She died in 1854, shortly after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley, thus leaving Julia an orphan at age 16. Julia went to live with her extended family who were helping to settle Iron County. In Parowan, she became close friends with Susan Ellen Johnson Martineau who was the daughter of Joel Hills Johnson, who was her uncle. (Her mother, Delcena Diadamia Johnson, was the third child in the family of Ezekiel Johnson and Julia HIlls -- an thus a sister to Joel Hills Johnson.) Susan Ellen was just two years older than her. Several years later, at age 18, Susan Ellen convinced her husband, James Henry Martineau to marry her as his second wife, which he did on 18 Jan 1857.
She and James Henry had eight children. They were: Delcena Diadamia, born 27 November 1857 at Parowan, Utah and died 23 October 1865 in Salt Lake City, who was buried at the side of her grandmother Delcena Diadamia Johnson Sherman. Lyman Royal, born 21 April 1859 at Parowan, Utah and died 4 January 1926 in Salt Lake city, Utah, who was buried in Logan, Utah. Charles Freeman, born 24 July 1861 in Logan, Utah and died 20 December 1935 in Logan, Utah, and was buried in Logan, Utah. Jesse Nathaniel, born 26 April 1863 in Logan, Utah and died in Chicago, Illinois 19 April 1928 of heart failure. Julia Henrietta, born 4 February 1865 in Logan, Utah and died 20 January 1885 in St. David, Arizona. Elizabeth, born 13 August 1867 in Logan, Utah, married Frank K. Nebeker. Virginia, born 16 July 1870, Married Edward sudbury, and later married John Murphy. Joseph Herbert, born 23 April 1873 in Logan, Utah, died 10 May 1873 in Logan, Utah. In 1860, when the move was made from Parowan, Utah to Logan, Utah, Susan Julia went with James Henry and Susan Ellen stayed in Manti with her brother until a place was prepared in Logan for all to live. The family grew quickly until Jan of 1874 when Susan Julia died of a ruptured appendix. Her grave is visible in the Logan cemetery. Susan Ellen then became mother to all the children and the family was preserved. Correspondence between James Henry and Susan Ellen and Susan Julia show the family unity which existed among the members of the family of James Henry Martineau. There is ample evidence that this family was blessed by the Lord for living the sacred principles of the gospel which they all subscribed to and which were such a powerful and integral part of their lives and a major influence on their histories.