Letters to James H. Martineau from his relatives

From his Aunt Mary Martineau, wife of Peter Martineau. Dated 1 Jan 1875. Milwaukee, Minnesota
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, your Aunt Mary
(copied from Page 218 and 219 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his cousin Ellen Stanley Mears. Dated August 1st, 1857. Milwaukee, Wisconsin
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, UtahFrom his cousin Ellen Stanley Mears,Dated August 1st, 1857. Milwaukee, Wisconsin
letter from Ellen Stanley Mears to her cousin James H. MartineauMilwaukee, 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)



From his niece, Fanny Martineau Lyon. Two Letters: Dated 17 June 1870 & 27 Feb 1873St. Paul, Minn.
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.
Your 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)



From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 15 June 1870. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, Utah.From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) LyonDated 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 thank 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 16 March, 1870. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, UtahFrom his sister Henrietta (Martineau) LyonDated 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 21 November 1869. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, Utah.From his sister Henrietta,Dated 21 November, 1869. St. Paul, MinnesotaSt. 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 3 Feb 1874. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, UtahFrom 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 5 January 1870. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, Utah&From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) LyonDated 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon. Dated 7 September 1869. Rochester, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau in Utah.From his sister Henrietta (Martineau) Lyon.Dated 7 September, 1869. Rochester, Minnesota
Rochester, Minnesota7 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta (Mrs. David Lyon) dated 28 December 1856, Bedford, New York.
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah.From his sister Harriet,Dated 18 December 1856, Bedford, New York
Bedford, New York28 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?
our 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)



From his sister Henrietta (now Mrs. David Lyon) dated 22 March 1856, Bedford, New York
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 York22 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)



From his sister Henrietta Lyon. Two Letters, Dated 3 Feb & 1 September, 1874. St. Paul, Minnesota
To James H. Martineau, in Utah. From his sister HenriettaOne Dated 12 August 1875, and the 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 1875St. 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)



From his sister Henrietta Lyon. Two Letters: Dated 13 Nov 1875 & 4 April 1876. St. Paul, Minnesota
Two letters To James H. Martineau, in UtahFrom his sister Henrietta (Martineau) LyonDated 13 November 1875 & 4 April 1876St. 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 NettieSt. 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 your 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)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau Postmarked August 18, 1848 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)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, 2 February 1852, New Albany, N.Y
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sister Henrietta Martineaudated 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,
Nett.
(copied from Page 178 and 179 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, 22 June 1851, Fultonville, (N.Y.?)
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)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, 24 March 1850, Elbridge, N.Y.
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 your
Affectionate sister, Henrietta (copied from Page 170,and 171 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, 25 Jan. 1850, Elbridge, N.Y.
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 as we 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 your Affectionate Sister,
Henrietta
(copied from Page 167, 168 and 169 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated 14 January 1855, New Albany, N.Y
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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)


From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated April 4, 1855, Madison, Wisonsin.
To James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah.From his sister Henrietta MartineauDated April 4, 1855, Madison, Wisconsin
Madison, WisconsinApril 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)


Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated June 6, 1853, New Albany, N.Y.
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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.
id 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)


From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated June 6, 1853, New Albany, N.Y.
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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 sisterHenrietta
(copied from Page 185 and 186 in Nephi Martineau Book)


from his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated March 26, 1854, New Albany, N.Y.
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Parowan, Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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)


From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated Sept 11, 1852, New Albany, N.Y.
Addressed to James H. Martineau, Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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
(copied from Page 188 and 189 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his sister Henrietta Martineau, dated September 10, 1855, Madison, Wisconsin
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)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, Dec 19,1850, New Albany, N.Y.
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Parowan, Utah.From his sister Henrietta Martineau written Dec 19th, 1850from 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)


From his Sister Henrietta Martineau, October 3,1852New Albany, N.Y
Addressed to James H. Martineau, in Utah from his sisterHenrietta 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)


From his sister Henrietta No date or addresss. Last page of letter
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, UtahFrom 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 Nephi Martineau Book)


From his sister Henrietta. Dated 14 September 1867. Addenda, Minnesota
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)


From his sister Henrietta. Dated 16 January 1869. Winona, Minnesota
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)


From his Sister Lois Martineau. Dated 29 December, 1856. Madison, Wisconsin
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, UtahFrom his sister Lois (Lottie) MartineauDated 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).
(copied from Page 204 in Nephi Martineau Book)

Letters / To James Henry Martineau /
From his Sister Lois.No address and date Last page of letter
Address & no date, Only last page of a letterfrom his sister LoisNo 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
(copied from Page 179 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From his uncle, Jos. R. Mears dated Dec 4, 1869, Portland, Oregon
Letter to Col. Jas. Martineau in Logan, Utahfrom Jos. R. Mears, uncle to James Henrydated Dec 4, 1869, Portland, Oregon.
Letterhead:Headquarters Department of the Columbia,Paymaster’s Office,Portland, Oregon,
Dec. 4, 1869 , Col. Jas. MartineauLogan, 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)


From his youngest sister Lois Martineau (Lottie) dated 9 May 1856, Madison, Wisconsin
To James H. Martineau, Parowan, UtahFrom his youngest Sister, Lois MartineauDated 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 sisterLotie.
P. S. Here is a lock of my hair.
(copied from Page 199 and 200 in Nephi Martineau Book)


From sister Lois Martineau (Lottie) Boswinkel & and from her husband,dated 24 July 1875, Chicago, Illinois
To James H. Martineau, UtahFrom his younger sister Lois Martineau (Lotie) Boswinkel andThe 2nd from her husband, J. P. Voswinkel DorselenDated 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)