Emma Phipps, Martin Phipps. 1880 travel diary and letters home describing the New World of Colorado Springs to the family back home in Massachusetts, Mf 0410
Transcribed by Sarah Ichinose, 2025.
Emma Phipps 1880 travel diary. Phipps does not date her entries.
Arrived at Colo. Springs and we are a little troubled at first because we miss the verdure of our New England hills. We forget that we are on a level with the summit of Mt. Washington in N.H. and cannot reasonably expect much vegetation. Right at our feet rise the grand old Rockies, with Pikes Peak amid, more than a hundred lesser peaks lifting its head, crowned with the eternal snows, which glistens like burnish silver, in the clear atmosphere 9000 ft above the town. To the East, [Added in pencil: for 300 miles (put in the […] here)] lie the immense, arid, desolate, treeless, unfenced far-[faimed?] cattle plains of Colo. Carried more than a mile up into the pure air above what one has been accustomed to live all his days, and the steadiest head will stagger a little at first. And if one has organic disease of the heart, the increased action of his lungs will discover it. But if he has the asthma he will cease to remember it.
No one can tell you just when they had rain last. One said it was as far back as the prehistoric ages. Another that it was full a year ago. But all agree that there are 7 months of each year when never a drop of rain falls and some years it is ten months.
When in the Summer months there are occasionally rains they are of short duration and the soil being a coarse gravel the water disappears immediately. An all stormy day is seldom seen. It is such a rarity, that should one occur it would be more noticed than the 4th of July.
There is a vast quantity of electricity in the air. Sunshine is superabundant, there is no dew at night. No clouds by day. [Added in pencil: The extreme dryness of the air prevents decay, things simply dry up.] 300 days out of every year with clean bright skies, cool invigorating air, the temperature so uniform [Added in pencil: through the year] that it is difficult to mark the seasons. Do you wonder that that the place has become a world renowned health resort.
But it is not all perfect. If they have 300 days in each year which are delightful there are still 65 days for exceptional weather when the thermometer seems to go crazy dancing from 0/20 to 50/0 during 24 hours. Fierce hail storms lasting but a short time but doing immense damage then the wind blows fearfully at times.
Well do I remember my first experience in one of Colo Sandstorms. The day had been calm and bright. The view of the mountains had been beautiful all day. The clouds rested like great masses of smoke low down on the mountain’s side you could see the tops of the mountains far above the clouds of an indescribable blue tint. I was returning from town admiring the ever changing beauty of the mountains when suddenly I was enveloped in a sand storm. They give no warning of their approach. Just come with a slam! I had on a wide brim hat and a circular thrown about my shoulders and a square of cardboard in my hand. This I clutched with all my might to prevent its being carried up like a kite. With my other hand I grabbed my hat for it was impossible to keep it on my head. Hat pins and elastic cord served to no purpose. Then how my circular did flap and snap now straight up in the air tugging at my throat, as though it would strangle me. And now acting like a sail carried me along with the wind. All the while the air is so full of sand and fine gravel that every time I opened my mouth or eyes they were filled with it. My ears were pelted with it and I could feel it creeping down my neck. When I reached the long open prairie in front of my our cottage I thought I should not be able to get across it. For the wind had a clear sweep of it and the way it twisted me about was curious to behold. I looked toward the house for help but all I saw through the thick cloud of sand was the dim outlines of our wood pile. Scouting about in every direction (and a tin boiler sailing away like a soft downy feather) I sat down on the first thing I came across and that was the chopping log and fainted? No, bawled, excuse me. I can understand now how our […] neighbor’s cow was blown away with the wind last week and could not be found for 3 days. Also why these people never pile up in order Firewood when they have any.
After this experience of mine they told me a story about a miner who was intent on getting his supper when up came one of these wind storms and being swift of foot chased his vagrant fire and held his frying pan over it as it traveled. When the bacon was cooked he found himself 15 miles from camp. I remember of reading in my school days about Caesar crossing the Rubicon and Alexander swimming the Hellespont as something remarkable. But they sink into insignificance in my mind, when compared with struggling across the Col. plains in a sandstorm.
The great need of Colo is water and wood but pluck and capital has done much to mitigate this great need in the larger cities. Here in Colo Springs, the water is brought at a cost 44,000 from the ice cold streams of the mountains 6 miles in 12 inch iron pipes for domestic purposes and in an open ditch for irrigating purposes. There flows a stream of water on each side of every street and opposite every house there will be a water gate [Added in pencil: and each street has a […] specific day of each week in] which it may be raised so that the water can flow over the grounds thereby giving an opportunity to cultivate them.
The streets are from 100 to 150 ft wide and the city has set out at intervals of 25 ft, close to the irrigating ditches, to some 7,000 cotton wood trees, this gives 4 rows of trees on the main avenue and 2 rows on all the other streets. This was done at a cost of $15,000.
When one comes to Colo for health or pleasure, there are offered to him three ways of getting acquainted with the climate and country each with different attractions. One way is to live in some one of their great hotels and do all your sightseeing from a carriage, then you will know very little about the country above what you learn from your guide book. Another way is to get together a few chosen friends and pitch your tent on some mountain side or in some one of the many beautiful mountains parks which are scattered all along the range and you will find it a delightful way of living.
There is still another and [crossed out: I think] a better way. Join some small party, hire good strong horses, and travel through the mountains or visit the plains. We found this last plan a highly enjoyable one It was in March that we started on a wagon trip to see something of the life on the plains. Our start off was quite Peterkin like for we had packed our wagon with blankets frying pan and canned food until there was scarce room for anything else, when it was discovered that only one seat had been sent and there were four of us, after boxes which wouldn’t fit and various other devices tried, we found an extra seat at our good parsons. Then we turned our horses toward the south down the hard level streets, meet a merry party on horseback going to visit some mountain canyon. Now we are on the main avenue with its opera house and elegant hotel and the latest fashions beside of which is the miner in his buxskin suite and iron spiked boots with the knife protruding from the top, and another at his belt which is ornamented with a band of cartridges and a big revolver close.
Close at hand stands an hideous little beast which they call the burro heavily packed with a miner’s outfit. Groups of men are collected at different points along the street, excitedly talking over the latest news from the mines. Picnic parties are leaving for a day in the mountains and here comes plodding into town the ranch men with his span of mules whose sides have been branded until they bare as many characters as a Chinese tea chest.
As we leave the city our way is along the side of the mountains for 6 or 7 miles until we come to a deep cut in the mountains called Cheyene Canon, it is so narrow that we must leave our horses and travel on foot there is a well-trodden path which we follow and are soon surrounded by walls of rock which rise almost perpendicular 800 ft to 12 or of fantastic shape. At our feet flows the swift mountain stream which we cross 7 times when one more turn brings us into a grand stone chamber whose lofty walls form a barrier to our further advance. At one side, way up in midair, there comes plunging down from some distant mountain peak, a sparkling stream broken into 7 falls before making the final plunge. There is a font like projection of rock into which the stream falls how deep no man can tell but so deep the water is thrown back as in a fountain and falls to the floor of this chamber in one grand leap. We loiter a while among these wonders of nature then to our wagon and turn our horses to the plains. For 15 miles our road is along the banks of the Fountain River which we forded several times water up to the [hut?] and sometimes much deeper.
At noon we had dinner near the river so as to secure water and shade. There was a big cotton wood, in whose trunk some campers not many hours previous, had cooked this dinner as the coals were still alive. We soon had our dinner cooking in a short time. And how long did we boil the eggs? About 3 times as long as you would in New England. Our philosopher said that things boil before they get hot in this high altitude.
Our plan was to stop at some farm or rather ranch as it is called here for the night, but for emergencies we carried blankets and tent. The sun was getting low in the west, and the horses were tired so we began to look about us for a lodgings for the night. It was 2 miles farther on when we came to a ranch it wore a well to do air, the house was made of adobe, [Added in pencil: which is a claying soil mix with straw and water dried in the sun] nearby a large carrol was enclosed by a high adobe wall also. Some 7000 sheep were winding their way to it. A man was harnessing two nice looking horses in the yard. We accosted the man and solicited lodgings for the night. [One?] could not take us they were all going to a sociable at their next neighbor’s 5 miles off. So our Philosopher said we would go too. It was 8 o’clock before we reached the sociable house. At first the good man said he could not take us. House full of company. But our Philosopher […] the good man over to our side and he consented to take the ladies that is they spread their own blankets in the parlor after the sociable. So the philosopher and his companion unpacked wagon spread their blankets on the floor of the wagon, donned their overcoats and slept as soundly as if they had had the best feather bed.
Meanwhile the ladies made themselves as agreeable as possible to the sociable. It was a very pleasant company of about 30 who had come all the way from 5 to 15 miles to the sociable. They had charades, select reading, and music. We enjoyed the evening much and after the company left, we were told that the best guest chamber was at our disposal. A nice breakfast was waiting for us in the morning and we were bid welcome to their house anytime when we should pass that way. We were informed that we should not pass another house until we came to Pueblo distant 25 miles but I found plenty of curious things to interest me. There was the little comical prairie dog, popping up his head to bark at us and the next instance diving into his hole. I saw a coyote stealthily creeping down into a heard of sheep. This was the first time I had seen a coyote but this is a real desert looking plain, nothing but sand alkali cacti and sage brush, alkali so plenty the ground is white in patches, you can scoop it up with your hand. Cacti we counted more than a dozen varieties all the way from the ball cactus which in size and shape is like our chestnut burr grows close to the ground and is […] with a [wreath?] of delicate [pink] or yellow flowers to the stately cactus which grows in clumps with stalks from 4 to 15 ft high and is covered with clusters of deep pink flowers. It is a great surprise to see these gaudy and beautiful flowers springing out of this desert soil.
At 1 o’clock we drive into Pueblo. This is the place for business a railroad center. [Emnrense?] Bessamer Steel works have recently been erected some nice stone business blocks are going up and it seems like a wide awake city but it cannot be an agreeable place for home comforts. Door yards are white with alkali soil and when the wind blows, which is most of the time, the air is full of this alkali dust and is trying to the tenderfoot causes sore lips and eyes but the old settlers never mind it.
The swift flowing [muddy?] Arkansas River divides the city into the old and new. We decide to take the cars and run up to Canon City and visit the [Grand?] Canon of the Arkansas pass out of Canon City and you are in the Canon. Imagine 2 perpendicular walls rising to a height of 2000 ft only 50 ft apart at the base for 2 miles. Try to look up, up, up, 2000 ft (does it try the anatomy of your neck) of solid wall which have been polished with the sunshine and rain of ages until they are smoother than sculptured marble. Now look ahead and where the train is going. The road curves like the letter S and the wall […] right in front of the track you think the train is going smooth against it there is the cooped up Arkansas River rushing by all covered with foam and so near there is no room to step from the train. It is wonderful, awful, all talking is hushed on the train.
They tell us that in making the road bed the workmen would begin high up on the mountain wall and blast down to the level of the road and now to ensure safety sentinels are appointed one for every mile to walk the track after every train. The whole distance through the canyon is 11 miles. There is no other way to see this canyon but in the cars for there is not room for the narrowest path outside the track.
We return to Pueblo and the next day resume our wagon trip. We cross the St Charles and now for 15 miles our road is on the mesa or high plains and the scenery is grand away on the Northern horizon 70 miles distant is Pikes Peak on the West the Greenhorn and towards the South the beautiful Spanish Peaks. 3 snow capped cones sharply outlined against the blue sky on the east 30 miles away, we could see the cars but so great the distance, they look a big snake creeping over the plains. We had the satisfaction of seeing a splendid mirage of trees and a lake where there was not a tree nor a drop of water. For vegetation you see only millions of the Yucca Plants whose root is [Added in pencil: a substitute for] soap and is highly prized in washing flannels cleanses without [boiling?] them.
Tonight there is not a house in sight, we have passed only dug outs during the day. There is no alternative but to pitch the tent.
We have found a deep wash out and pitch there to be out of the wind as much as possible, build a roaring fire and I commence frying gridle cakes for the company while they sing to cheer on the work. But my face is blistered a long while before the cakes are cooked. We spread an oil cloth on the sand. All are in high glee, poems are recited, songs sung, but somehow I can’t laugh very heartily for I hear the coyotes in the distance and declare that I will sit up all night but was too tired to keep my resolution.
Waked about 12, could hear a strange noise outside the tent and the sharp quick bark of the coyote. Soon the philosopher went off to reconnoiter waving a big fire brand, found that it was the horses trying to eat the wagon, they had nearly finished chewing up one side. He aroused his companions and together they searched to find something beside the wagon to fasten to, but as there was not a tree, stone, or bush for miles, they concluded to let them finish the wagon. I kept awake as much as possible but all the rest slept like babes in their mother’s arms and said in the morning it was just splendid to get so much of Colo’s delicious air. We had to move on without our breakfast as there was no water to be found for man or beast.
[On reverse side of page 22: The approach to the canon is gradual. The hills become higher until suddenly the river is shut in by]
The weather up to this time had been delightful but at dinner time the wind was blowing at the rate of 50 miles an hour. Before I could get the chicken off the fire it was profusely sprinkled with ashes and sand. We opened a can of peaches but before you could get them to your mouth they were covered with gravel. I gave up eating in disgust, while the rest sat down and ate their pick of dust and said there is nothing like camping out in Colo. to get up an appetite.
The next day we reached the goal of our wagon trip, which was to visit one of the largest cattle ranches in Colo. we found that the Huerfane River bounded it on the West thus furnishing water. The ranch which contained 110,000 acres and there were 10,000 head of cattle. The nearest P.O. was 25 distant. They employed some 20 herders or cowboys. They were busy preparing for the “round-up” as it is called in Colo. Once every year or [6 months?] the cattle are driven to a certain […] and counted, and all young stuck together with the cattle that may have been brought from other ranches are branded with the red hot iron. It requires many months to prepare for the “round up” the horses must be in the best of condition for it takes a fleet horse and a brave rider to run down the wild steer of the plains.
The cowboys use the Mexican saddle which has a very high back and is fastened around the horse by a hair just 8 in wide. Long sharp spurs are fastened to their boots. And they carry over the high saddle horn a lasso or rope twice as large and much longer than our clothes lines with a slip noose. This they swing around their head when riding at full speed, give it a peculiar toss and it darts through the air like a snake and has the struggling animal in its coils.
We remained at the ranch a day or two then [winded away?] returned to the Springs.
Colo. is just immense. The area 15 that of Mass. Its mountains full of gold, silver, and other valuable ors. Flourishing mining camps scattered the whole length and breadth of them. I have only hinted of the beautiful green parks that are found high among the mountains. Some of these parks have already been seized upon by wealthy Englishmen as a summer resort. (Earl Dunraven own the best acres of Estes Park.)
Even Colo. Springs has numberless attractions for the tourist. There are the Monument Rocks considered the most remarkable on the plains, at a distance, it is difficult to realize that they are not the handiwork of men so perfectly do they resemble piles of sculpture.
The Garden of the Gods with its wonderful gateway which is […] 2 limestone rocks over 300 ft high one gray the other red.
The picturesque dell of Glen Eyrie.
Manitou situated in one of the wildest and most beautiful of mountain glens possessing 7 noted mineral springs and the remarkable [Wind Cavern?] which is great cave almost a rival to the Mammoth Cave of KY it will show visitors stalactite formations more delicate than coral.
Ute Pass with its towering walls and perilous road, and charming Rainbow Falls. Crystal Park which takes you up 9000 ft, among whose rocks can be found the beautiful smoky topaz. Then grandest of all, Pikes Peak. 12 miles to the signal stair in the [summit?]
[Crossed out: My poor head does not think of adjectives strong enough to describe the wonders and beauties of a trip to the peak. But I hope all may have the pleasure of seeing for themselves.]
Here on Pikes Peak trail with its beautiful falls, charming views, and snowbanks dotted with flowers I will leave you.
Colo Plains.
To the East for 300 miles lie the great cattle plains of Colo. And what do you think they are like. Many a time had I read descriptions of them but the fact which was always prominent that they were the great stock raising sections of our country had lead me astray. They were much more dreary than anything I had pictured. I think the generally accepted idea is that the plains like the prairies are perfectly flat unbroken stretches of land. This is not the fact. They are nothing and broken by innumerable gullies, destitute of insect life, their immensity and stillness are oppressive. Fenceless, treeless, and so brown you are constantly puzzled in trying to understand what so many million head cattle find to eat.
But there is a worthless looking […] Buffalo grass growing in little tufts so scattered that the gravel shows itself more than the grass.
Well this has proved one of Colo. most prolific sources of wealth and it is this which has made the Colo. cattle plains world renowned. The cattle prefer it to all other feed it is very nutritious, cures
But it would seem that the plains were over stocked for we see every spring thousands of cattle scattered along the plains who have died of starvation the plains seem desolate of all vegetation in Feb. and March.
[Unnumbered page] And turn our horses down the broad level street. All along the way are preparations making for spending the day in the open air. Excursion wagons packed with lunch, waiting to […] their […] [basket?] for a day in the mountains. Merry parties of horseback riders starts for a spirited gallop on the plains. You would never suspect they were all invalids they seem so cheerful. Now we are on main [avenue?] and it is a motley crowd that we pass on this side the latest fashion from N.Y. and on them the […] with his buckskin suit, iron spiked boot with knee protruding from the top and at his belt which is loaded with a row of cartridges and a [hair pin?] at one side near his hideous beard call … loads with his … and their his a … from seen was with his [The rest of this page is illegible]. [END OF PAGE]
Letters
Colorado Springs May 17, 1880
Dear Ella,
We left Salina last Monday evening and I have not seen a green thing since. When we opened our eyes Tuesday morning there we were in the midst of the “Great American Desert.” Everything as brown as Martin’s old hat, grass, antelopes, prairie dogs, and “dug outs.” My imagination was greatly surprised for I had not thought of anything half so dreary. I know Siberia cannot be worse for I think there must be two colors there, brown and white. As I looked out on that enormous stretch of flat, lifeless, desolate tract I felt as though I was in the “[sire?] and yellow leaf” myself and wanted to go home.
There are no villages the last 250 miles before you enter Denver only water stations and herder’s points. As you look from the car window, you see thousands of cattle feeding, you would say on the sand, but “they say” on buffalo grass, a specimen of which Martin sends you. See how short it is, does not cover the whole desert, grows in patches, just like big mats, the cattle like it better than green grass. The Thread and Needle plant is very common all along the road, but not in flower. At the water stations you would see a half dozen brown houses 1/2 ft high or more scattered about at one of these stations. The depot master’s wife came into the cars with her sick baby going to take it to the nearest Doctor, just one hundred miles from there. What do you think of that. I think U.S. had better fence it in, and send the “tramps” there. O, the wind blows like “thundering guns” on this desert and they said that some days it slows the train 10 hours late. There are snow or sand fences all along the route to protect the road. Owing to the mysterious attraction that always accompanies a crowd we came near going to the San Won (don’t say San Juan) country, for as soon as the cars entered Denver depot they would catch hold of you, and sing out this “away to San Won” and as 7/8 of the passengers went that way we had to struggle to go the other. I declare when we got to Denver if there wasn’t the wind blowing forcefully and the air so full of dust that you could not see the houses on the next street had to cram your handkerchief into your mouth and hold your nose or be smothered with dust. I tell you Martin condescended to apologize for doubting my stories when a gravel stone, as big as a chestnut, struck his nose. The next morning was calm and beautiful, the air so clear that we had a grand, sublime view of the mountains, we could look to the north and see peak after peak rising for 125 miles, then turn south look on peaks 150 miles away, as you look across the range the mountains nearest the city looked of a dark purple tinge, then just back of these a little higher there would be peaks of a soft dreamy blue, still farther back and higher up ranges covered with snow, not snow to your eye, but silver. It was wonderful to watch this play of colors as the sun rose higher in the heavens. A new grand glorious picture, with every hour. There has not been so much snow on the mountains for years, and they told us that we could not have chosen a better time to see the beauties of mountain scenery.
Denver is a very pretty city, I think I could live contentedly there, if they would clean out their gutters. There are many elegant residents, two very beautiful streets that we chanced upon, 18th and 23rd. I never saw such nice buildings for schools as they have in Denver. You see many rich costumes on the street (black stain suits with white kids) and in the shops, you find as nice goods, and as large an assortment as in any Boston store.
They have not seen any rain here since they were all small children, so they have tapped the Platte river away up above (near the mountains) and taken the water into Denver, and they need no fire engines for every man can throw a stream from his own yard 160 ft high. I would like to stay in Denver several weeks, but Martin seemed so languid I wanted to settle down in some place for home. So we went to Colorado Springs on Friday and nobody here can tell when they had any rain last (sometime in the past ages) some think it was last September. Everybody buys water. $12 a year for domestic purposes for anything more, must pay extra. The water is brought in a 12in iron pipe from the mountain streams, 6 miles distant, for drinking. For other uses, in an open canal. There is never a blade of green grass here, unless coaxed by irrigation so when a one wants a green yard in front of his house, you will see someone out every forenoon with hose throwing water over the brown grass. After a few mornings it begins to look green but you must continue this sprinkling of water in order to keep it green. You see people out every morning with the sprinkling hose in one hand and holding on hat with the other, for alas; the wind blows tremendously here. No [luck?] for Martin’s straw hat.
I cannot tell you much about the Town in this letter for Martin has been miserable, so we have not been about any yet. I will say that it is more of a town than [Hopkinton?] 5 or 6 large dry goods stores, stock larger than [Mr.?] Sweets. Many elegant houses, nice carriages, fast horses, and rich people, and much culture.
It is decidedly funny, living “up so high” in the world. I have not felt steady since I got here, so if this letter does not read straight it is all owing to the altitude. It makes me dizzy, and the more the wind blows, the dizzier I am, and if I strike anything all wool out snaps the electricity and if I do not carry a steady hand I get a shock, feel it most in my right wrist. This is too much rise for Martin he is quite prostrate, sits in his room most of the time. It troubles him to lie down but we hope to send a better report soon. It takes 3 or 4 weeks to get accustomed to so high an altitude.
We have a very pleasant boarding place. The only stone cottage in the place has a tower on one side. We have the front chamber which has windows looking out upon the common, and on the mountains and just below the house is the main avenue, more than 100 ft wide with a double row of trees running for a distance of two miles. You can stand in the center of the street and look out twenty-five miles one way and thirty the other, it is very beautiful.
We are about four miles from the Springs. Martin cannot get to them unless he rides, and that is so expensive I do not know but what it would be better to board nearer to them, for I think Martin had better try the iron one, but that would take us so far from any one that we know. Martin talks much of “camping out” they say here that that is the way to do, if you would be benefited by the climate We shall be looking out for a chance to go into camp. I wish C. Ford would come and go into the mountains with Martin and camp (he must come by Pueblo).
Oh such clear bright sunny days you never saw. Perfectly intoxicating or at least my head spins round as if I were.
Tell Jip I wish he might come for he could live in peace here for there are no cats – can’t live – so much electricity they die of spasms.
When I get sobered down I shall finish telling about our folks and &c.
We received your letters today and it made us so happy this is the first time we have heard from home. It brightens up Martin wonderfully. Tell George not to wait for Martin to answer his letter but to write as often as he feels like it for his letters are prized by M– and he is feeling so languid that he will not be able to write much just now. Martin commenced a letter to John when at Salina but did not have an opportunity to finish it said today he hoped he should feel like writing before many days. Give my love to all,
Emmie.
P.S. Martin had a very kind note from Mr. Pinpee’s brother inviting him to Canon City, he is boarding there. Martin has just taken his hat and gone down town. Your letters did him more good than a Dr.’s visit. I think he feels quite satisfied with his sisters business ways, he laughed a good deal over the letter it was just what he needed to rouse him up, thanks for it.
Colorado Springs
June 1, 1880
My dear Ella,
This has been an uninteresting week. So very cold that we could not visit the mountains so we have not seen anything new to tell you about so I think you must be introduced to “our folks.” This is Mr. Joslyn. John Rice thirty years from now, lived on the frontier in Oregon twenty years, owns a part of a mine, and lives in a stone cottage. Mrs. Joslyn, deaf as Hood’s Elenor Spearing, with a warm heart, gift of gab, and a foolish, laughable love for old gold color, as she calls it, but it is a regular pumpkin color, wears it on her bonnet puts it up for lambrequins in our room. Our dressing case is trimmed with it, and a stripe of it, painted around the gate posts, but I think you will like his much.
This is Mrs. Tuck their niece. Mrs. Snell with light curls. She is a Western Minister’s daughter wears some curious ornaments on her chain. Martin asked her if she was a mason. “No I am an odd fellow,” rather more willy then lady like, leads the choir at church. Now the boarders, this is Mrs. Ellison of New York. Her husband at Leadville has an interest in a mine there, wears big diamonds and silks, not educated, very pretty face, 28 years, very kind to us, has travelled much and tells very interesting things.
Here is the Prof of the breakfast table Mr. Creegan just now superintendent of the missionaries. In the territories, a splendid man full of fun. I shall be sorry when he goes, leaves for Gunnison next week to start a church there. His wife and two children will remain with us for three weeks then move into a house of their own. A thoroughly good woman, write good essays, but says in western lingo “why you have been up a good bit this morning” “Have you got a grip bag.” (Travelling bag.)
Mrs. Joslyn took me to a literary entertainment a few nights ago. The readings and music was very good indeed, one of the singers had been trained in the Conservative of Music at N.Y. her singing was very fine, wore a black satin dress the only funny thing I saw was this, they had a table by the door with two water pails and two tin dippers and every one took a drink as they came in. I suppose it was because it is so dry here.
There was an examination for applicants for schools here one day last week and there were fifty teachers who came and there were thirteen states represented. They had only one vacancy to fill, gave it to a girl from [Lenven?]
I have had quite a good number of callers, all very pleasant people but I do admire Prof Bliss’ wife. She is just charming, about 38, and as brilliant as Lizzie [Whittin?] has travelled in Europe & C.
What does C Frost say about coming here to camp in July? And how is Emily and Ed. What is Aunt Henerette doing now days?
You cannot imagine what a quantity of canned fruits they use here, the grocery stores look so strange, nearly everything in tin cans, stacks and stacks of them in the windows, middle of the room, on the shelves, and when we go out to walk, get to the last house on the street and just beyond you will see great piles of empty tin cans, there is one man here who has shingled his whole house, roof and sides with empty tin cans, it is a fact. For we here been post-it as soon as we get thawed out, shall write again.
Emmie
P.S. Takes seven minutes for soft-boiled eggs. We are up so high.
Colorado Springs, June 1, 1880
Dear Mother,
I suppose you want to know about Martin first. I should say he is better with the exception of two things. The pressure across his chest and the swelling of his fingers in the morning. He has his “blue days” as usual, but when out of those, he seems quite cheerful. You would like to know how we pass the time here. Well, the breakfast bell rings at half past six and we are down to the table at seven. The first course for the breakfast is [crk?] wheat and milk, second, fried mutton or beefsteak with potatoes from Utah, biscuit the size of an […], walnuts, good coffee. I have blackberry sauce to take the place of meat. After breakfast, we all go into the parlor, read a chapter from the bible and Mr. Joslyn offers prayer. They take a good number of papers, and always give them to Martin to read after breakfast. While Martin is reading I put my chamber to rights, then we go to a walk, stay out until half-past eleven, we are getting as brown as the roads this wind can make you as brown as an Indian in just two days you cannot tell the sick ones unless by their walk, for they all get so brown if they are able to go out. Dinner at twelve, soup always first then some kind of a roast with canned vegetables, then either rice pudding or sea moss […], nuts, figs, and candy, tea. Sunday we have lemonade in place of the tea.
After dinner Martin takes a siesta either in his chair or on the bed and I mend for it is so dry here everything is coming to pieces. We stay in the house until about half-past three. Martin then goes to visit the stores, markets, gas house, printing office, reading rooms and last but not least stands on the sidewalk to watch the teams start for the mines. People just wild about going, a dozen or more teams leave every day and you will see boys only fourteen with gray headed men among the company. Some have made immense fortunes.
Supper comes at six. Toasted bread or biscuit, cold meat, two kinds of cake, and canned grapes or peaches and good tea. After supper we go to the post office for there is only one Eastern mail a day, six p.m. We stay out until eight (if pleasant for you know the evening air so as dry as a bone here), read the letters, laugh over them, talk about them, and wish they were longer. We have received only three papers. The weather has been very cold here for a weak, snowed on the mountains about every day. People around with red mittens on, heavy overcoats needed. Mr. Joslyn fitted up one of the unoccupied chambers with a stove and told us we might use it for a sitting room while the cold weather lasted. He builds us a fire in there every morning and does not ask us anything extra. We share it with a lady boarder which occupies the room next to ours. It has been so cold that we could not go to the mountains or anywhere scarcely, but it is milder today and Mr. Tenney sent a carriage for us to go riding. We went out on the prairie about four miles, saw only gray grass and gophers. I hope the cold has gone for good.
Mr. Tenney is too good to us. I do not see how he can give us so much of his time for he is very unwell himself and has so much to do for the college, has called on us three times and taken us out riding twice and we have not called there yet, shall soon. We enjoyed reading your letter very much send another soon.
Emmie
P.S. I have a class in the Sabbath school, young men, 17 yrs.
Colorado Springs June 2, 1880
Dear Sis,
We are doing as well as could be expected I suppose. Em and I take a stroll, look over the improvements and make all the remarks which we think the work requires which takes considerable time every day. The farmers, no the gardeners for there is no farmers are planting their vegetable seeks. I send you a Salt Lake potato and sun flowers which grow in the street plentifully hereabouts. The cactus which I sent is quite pretty and they are now in full bloom. I do not think it best to let the house to Cove or say one who has many small children, do you. But do as you think best. This goes with Ems letters so I shall send you one on my own hook tomorrow. Your […]
Martin
Colorado June 07, 1880
My dear Ella,
We are getting anxious to hear from you. It is now two weeks since we have had a letter from you or mother. What does it mean? I know how very tired you must get these warm days and it may seem like an unpleasant task to write, but just please send us some sign every week, whereby we may know that you are all right. If it be only a postal with your mark.
The “town herd” is passing the house that is, all the domestic cows of the city, the fashion requires or I guess it is necessity, because of the unfenced pasture which extends from here to Kansas on the East and from New Mexico to the National Park on the north. So every morning you will see a man or a boy with a great broad brim felt hat on a little pony which looks as if he had been through the wars, for he is all battered and bruised carrying a great coil of rope on the saddle horn and calling at all the houses for the cows. The cows must wait until call for it is against the law for them to travel without an escort. The herder stays with them all day and drives them home at sundown. It had rained, but I have not seen anybody or anything that has been wetted yet. The rain clouds come up very suddenly. It will rain for about five or ten minutes then the sun shines. They tell us that water spouts are quite common to the country and have done much damage. We have had two hail storms within a week, hail stones as large as chestnuts. It is customary for men and women to don their rubber coats just as quick as they see any rain. That is of they are going out for the winds blows so you cannot carry an umbrella.
Mr. Tenny still keeps up his interest in us, we were invited to spend the afternoon with the family last Saturday and Mr. Tenny just devoted all his time in entertaining us, showed us all his collection of shell, minerals, and pictures to appreciate this favor you must know that Mr. Tenny has a private secretary and is driven with work from morning until night and his duties are so numerous he seldom mingles with society. That pretty Mrs. Phillips and husband who live on the big sheep ranch 35 miles from here, are stopping at the hotel for a few days. They are very nice people, he is from Boston, she from Milford Conn. They insist on a visit from us, have invited us to stay with them thru week. I am trying to “screw my courage to the [sticking?] point” and go for a week. To get to their ranch you go 35 miles across these unfenced fields without any thing to guide you, scarcely. These are the directions we are to follow. Drive over the hills to the east you will see a dozen trails but take the one which seems to be trodden most. After going about eight miles you will find the trails about equally trodden but look sharp and you will see about a dozen small stones in a heap between two trails take the left trail from the stones and when you have traveled about fifteen miles further you will pass a log hut, enquire there for the next trail which will take you to another log hut, which is within a half dozen miles of our ranch. You see we only pass two houses for the whole 35 miles. Martin wants to go very much, as this is one of the nicest sheep ranches in the state.
I begin to look rather shabby for my dresses are so permeated with dust they look like [Gip’s?] back after he has been rotting in the road. We have been quite quiet this last week. Martin has been disinclined to make any exertion, rather gloomy. I have been doing some of the sewing I put in my trunk, but I have engaged a friend, one of the boarders, to take us to the “Garden of the Gods” tomorrow morning (about six miles from here). It seems to do Martin good to take these little drives into the mountains, but he does not seem well enough to do anything about them himself. We had a letter from Bill T. this last week saying Mr. Rice was dead. Of course this affected Martin for we have had such a pleasant “good morning” from Mr. Rice for these, so many years, it is sad to think we shall not hear it again. How sad for Mrs. R. I do pity her so much.
How is Cora? Write me about the examinations of the schools. How many of Hayden [Rose?] scholars tried for the High School?
I do not know as you can gather from my letter anything definite about Martin’s health for it puzzles me. I think he will see some doctor here in the course of two weeks. Some weeks he seems first-rate and I will think he is about cured of his trouble. Then he will have a poor week and I will think he has not gained so very much but I hope another month may make a decided improvement
- Emmie
June 27, 1880
Dear Sis,
It rained yesterday, and so I expect there will be green grass sometime. The ranchmen are still planting and I suppose they expect to raise a crop. I have been told by several of them that they commence to cut hay in September, but I don’t know where they find it one man has 2000 acres under fence and 75 cattle on the same and not grass enough in sight to feed a woodchuck. I went over to J Austins sheep ranch last week where he has 4000 in one flock and have a range of 5 miles with here and there a short weed, and a few clumps of brush on two hills. This is all I can see for them to live upon except the gravel which they say is very nutritious.
It is shearing time and the way it is done well about 60 or 70 is a full days work for a man. The wool is striped from his [eyes?] and head with the hand. Then about six or eight clips on each side of body and the thing is done leaving the poor sheep looking like a boy that cut his own hair. Most of the old settlers have or are going to the mines, but then the town is full of strangers and there is always plenty of them ready for a chat.
I want you to pay the installment on my life insurance on or before the 14th of July, about $15. The “Union Mutual” [Tremout?] St. I think they will send notice with a note for me to sign, if so forward to me for signature. Am getting along very well, can sleep […], eat […] beef and everything else that is put up in cans. More soon from your big brother M___
Colorado Springs Sept 27, 1880
To Mother and Sister,
Em says hurry up and you may put in a sheet of [stove?] music, but first of all I must say a word in regard to that quack, whose tongue is hung in the middle I think she is called Elisebeth Howdy. Her advice is dear at any price (did she pay what she owed us) and like all quacks is very anxious to proscribe for a fee. If she comes from the beach back to the brick house please inform her for me that board is $4 per day for professionals. I suppose Em will give you all the particulars and more too in regard to life under canvas as I found it getting somewhat monotonous and I had a good chance to buy an outfit cheap and Em was complaining she had nothing to do but just quiddle for somebody else. I took the chance to give her steady work and myself the chance to wear my lovely boots, my 20¢ straw hat that you [rimmed?] for me, my cardigan and gray flannel shirt, and feel as independent as any man in the camp, have had my picture taken and perhaps I may send it in about a fortnight, but then you will see it when you get it. It is rather rough now and the artist wants to [town?] it up perhaps. Have consulted the MD and he is of the opinion that I took a wise course in coming out here and assures me that if I will stay here this winter that I will be able to go home in the spring and be good as new, sound, and will be able to stay in Mass as anywhere else. He says I do not need any medicine but that cool oil is good about 21 times a week.
Have you heard from Wokefield in response to Tim Woods or do you know anything, if so what. Has W. H. Wokefield paid his bill, if not go for him for he promised to pay.
How do the Boston bills stand, give me a statement of the larger ones.
How is your money are you keeping any back for the winters use. What did you have to pay for coal and what kind did you buy and blow much.
Has Peter Jones paid the balance of his store account. Did D Mahony pay you any.
Have you a carpet for the dining room, as it is about housecleaning time and I think you spoke about it sometime ago. If not you had better get what you think you need.
In regard to apples and [sweet potatoes?] it would not pay to send as freight, is $6 per hundred and by six $10 per hundred and the length of time on the road is very uncertain. Em wants this board to cut her bread on and can’t wait.
Martin
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