Language of the Times

H

Hardcase

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A week or two ago, we were talking about the new version of the movie True Grit and the talk turned to the sort of language that folks used at the time. I've finally dug out several old family letters from the time and I thought that I'd post one of them here to give a taste of what was on their minds back then, and how they expressed it. Here goes...this is a letter William Cooper his brother (and my great great great grandfather) Christopher Cooper. Christopher lived in St. Joseph, MO and William was mining at Sailor Diggins, CA.

It's interesting that the topic of the letter is a little familiar: work is hard and nobody ever writes!

Sailor Diggins, Cal. March 3rd, 1853

Dear Brother Chris,

I write this not knowing when I will get a chance to send it - (as I have done many others). I have been living in rather an out of the away place out here to receive any letters or to send any, Although I see people agoing in to Oregon every week or so. I have never heard from Henry since I left Oregon. I have wrote a great many times. I should like to know if he went home, I have been very anxious about him & intended going in to Oregon this spring to try and learn something about him; in the Spring of 52 I wrote for Henry to come up to these Northern Mines but I never received an answer. I heard last fall that there was a young man by the name of Cooper lay sick in the Valley & not expected to recover at the home of a Mr. Roberts but I never could learn any thing. More although I have sent by more than a dozen different persons. We have had such a severe winter here that I don't think I will be able to go in before fall. As animals is very high. The severe storms has killed nearly all the animals in the County, especially the mountain parts.

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I lost two mules in the storm. And I don't intend buying any now until they get cheaper than what they are at present. Good mules bring from 180 dollar to 220. Last fall we bought them for seventy five.

I had intended coming home this spring but the winter has been so severe I will have to defer it another year. I done tolerable well last summer in the bed of the creek until the water drown us out in September & I have not done much since. There has been such a continual stream of snow & rain that it has been impossible to work out, so we have been housed up all winter. Paying a dollar a pound for every thing we eat, we have had a general starvation this winter. I lived on beef alone without salt three weeks (when we could get salt, we paid five dollars per pound for it), then five days on sugar, several days on dried apples and sugar and for the last month we have had nothing in the world but flour - Every body left these mines but about dozen of us - but it has cleared up now & we look for a train in before the spring storm. We might have killed plenty of deer but unfortunately we had no ammunition. I have offered ten dollars a pound for powder & lead this winter.

Me and my partner has very good diggins, what you might call half ounce diggins - and if provision gets down to a fair price this spring so we can hire hands we will do pretty well.

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Write as soon as possible and if any of the boys is out in the country, I should like to hear from them and have them with me, I should not advise them to leave the states and come here for this is a hard country to live in (but a laboring man can undoubtedly do better here than he can there) but if they should already be in this country or intend coming here I believe they could do better than any other part of California. I am located at Sailor Diggins, Illinois Valley, Northern California, right on the line between Oregon and Cal. Illinois is a tributary of rogue river.

Do write and let me know some thing about home. I have never sent any one I know in the states or heard a word from home. I received Mothers letter that was directed to Henry or my self which I happened to get by accident. I received 2 letters directed to Wm Cooper but they was not intended for me. Do let me know how Mother is. I long very much to hear from her & Jo & your self and all the family. We are going to have an express in this valley this summer & then I will every week if possible write to some of you. I have sent letters & sent for letters by nearly every packer that comes in to this valley and always the same disappointment. Direct your letters to Winchester, Oregon Territory or Salem, Oregon for Oregon City is to far down for me ever to receive them.

From your affectionate brother,

Wm. Cooper

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By the way, Henry did eventually make it to California and, eventually, Henry and Chris end up in Idaho City, Idaho, where they are buried in the Pioneer Cemetery. William eventually went back to St. Joseph to the family farm.

If you guys find this interesting, I have many, many other letters that I'd be happy to transcribe.
 
Great letters. Do they talk about the actual mining in the letters? How about politics and current events?
How legible was the handwriting? I'm always amazed at the condition of the paper and ink in the old letters and diaries.
I spend alot of time in the library going over microfilms of old newspapers.
 
Thanks for sharing

I love to read letters or accounts in the language of the people lived and suffered through hard times 150 years ago. The letters give insight into how hard life was and what they had to endure just to survive. I live in SW CO with record low weather now and when I go out to feed and water the horses I am wearing the best layered clothing I can find with wool, thinsulate, Gortex and polypropylene clothing and gloves. I have insulated muck boots.

Then I try to imagine how cold those folks were with their skins, clothing and blankets. They lived cold, they lived hungry and they had no electricity, no running water, no propane heaters, etc. You have to admire them.

Thanks for sharing your stories and if you don't post more here, I still would like reading about pioneer life from your letters if you post them anywhere.

I have an uncle who wrote about life on their ranch in Northern CA in the 30's and that is amazing also.

thanks again,
McPhee
 
pohill, they don't really talk much about the mining itself. They mostly talk about who hasn't written whom, what adventures they've had and complain about how much things cost - sort of the same thing that people do today!

Their handwriting was quite good. Paper was fairly expensive in the day and it was a bit of a chore to use an inkwell and pen (although since that was the only way to do it, I guess they didn't know better). Some of the letters that I have are really quite beautiful. I'll scan some later to show.

I do have a real gem from 1817 that I'll dig up written by William, Henry and Chris's father Christopher Cooper that talks about how all of the immigrants are taking jobs away from good Americans - Irish immigrants.

This letter was written by William, but I'm not sure which brother it was to (there were quite a few) not too long before William headed west. I guess that the bakery business didn't work out so well.

St Joseph, Feb 2nd 18.51

Dear Brother

I received yours of Jan 4th and also Henrys Sept 20 /50 and I am glad to hear you are all well - Anns family included or I suppose you would of mentioned it. I am glad to hear Eliza is getting about again. The last time I seen you at Montrose you told me she was very unwell. You didnt tell me how mother was, but I infer from her being in town and enjoying her self that she is as well as could be. The last time I seen her she was very weakly. I am glad to hear Frank has gone home to stay the winter. In your next, let me know how George & Edward is getting along and whether they like to stay or likely to go off.

When I commenced writing I calculated to write three or for letters to day but I will have to defer it till some future time as I have no convenient place not even a table chair or anything of the kind and I am writing this on an old barrell head in the Bake Shop among noise and confusion of tin pans splitting wood &ct.

Well as to my where abouts and what am doing - well if you was a standing on the corner of on of the streets in St. Jo- and see a bread wagon come whizing along like a streak of lightning, with three or four strings of bells on making the (d-est) racket you ever heard

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and see me sitting on top and driving, you would think I had gone crazy, but such is the fact (not the crazy part). Me and Dan - thats my partner (not at present though) had the worst possible time coming here that any two men ever had. We was (30 days) coming through. We started through with two wagons but had to leave one with part of Dans furniture about two hundred miles from here which put us to great expense to get through (at least Dan) for I hadn't much but it was something then hard times. It cost between 2 hundred and three hundred $ be sides leaving the wagon to bring through afterwards. The way it was we bought 2 yoke of oxen and a wagon (and we had one horse and wagon) which we paid one hundred and twenty dollars for, after we got about 80 miles over the worst road you ever saw, a constable over took us and took Dan with a warrant for passing a counterfeit $50 bill State Bank of Missouri. As they didn't know my name and was out of the county they couldnt take me and I ave them a pretty sweet black guarding for they trouble. Dan took the bill of the GB Excelcior and had every confidence of the bill being good even after they served the warrant, but as the constable wouldnt wait to take the team back, we told him we couldnt go back and leave our team in the woods, so the constable told us if we would give them (for thare ware two of them) $18 and redeem the bill and that was more than we could do and have money to bring us through. So we gave him $18 and one yoke oxen as the only means of getting off as it was as much trouble to go back

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as it was to go ahead and probibly go to jail till we could prove where we got it or get security.

But lo and behold when we got to St Jo, we showed the bill to the merchants and all pronounced it good but was afraid to change it after telling them it had been disputed. We gave to Jos Robidoux indian trader, he sent it to St. Louis and it was pronounced good and he gave us the money for it.

Now we are going to prosicute and I think we can make them pay pretty dearly for sending a warrant and serving it before they found out the bill was good or bad and puting us to so much unnessary expense and robbing us of $18 besides and they would of took more if they had found out we had it but we told them it was all we had but before we proceed we will Legal Council (its a plain case and dont expect to make a fortune out of it).

Every thing is very dull up here. River fill of ice (Butchering is done over here). I have rented a bake house and taking a partner that is a baker, he bakes the bread and I sell it. We run a bread cart but it don't hardly pay but from all apearances it pays in the spring. Extension arrangements making here for Ensig rations this spring and if it comes here we will do well (Dans staying in a hotel till spring) and then we intend to open Boat Stone Bakery Grocer and every thing else or any thing that will pay. We dident get here in time to put up any ice.

Give my love to all yours

Wm Cooper


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It was pretty clear to see has he wrote the letter and got to the part about the disputed "bill" that he was getting angrier and angrier. It got pretty hard to read what he was writing. Normally, his penmanship was pretty good, but he really started tearing through the story at breakneck speed, so his pen would start to run dry and he'd have to write over the letters again. Together with the 160 year old paper and ink, it got to be a challenge!
 
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Just FWIW, a dollar would have been worth about $60 or so in today's money. I don't know about in the gold fields, as "real" money was about worthless with everyone wanting paid in gold.

I did notice a term not used today when he wrote that he "gave them a pretty sweet black guarding...". We would say he cussed them out, or gave them hell.

Jim
 
That is so neat that you have family letters dating back that far. Thankyou for taking the time and effort to transfer them here for us to peruse and enjoy. Reading things like this is always educational.
 
I love this stuff. One movie I saw that was very authentic in it's dialect was "Ride wit the Devil" a Civil war film with very accurate dialect, horse tack, actually loading C&B revolvers etc. They both spoke and read letters in 1850s-60s language.
 
Most of us probably can't imagine what life was like, back then.
A week of camping out, with our modern gear, can't be much comparison.
In the movie, "Tom Horn", Steve McQueen is being hounded by an Eastern journalist, who wants to know what life in the West is really like.
McQueen finally turns to the guy and says one word, "RaggedyAss!"
No doubt.

Was it noticed how well written these letters are?
Much better than on most forums, these days.
 
Very good point, g.willickers. A case in point: my grandfather was born in Boise, Idaho in November of 1906. But to get there, my great grandmother traveled in a stagecoach from Idaho City, about 25 miles on the typical dirt road of the time. She sort of "guestimated" when he was due and got to the midwife's house a few days early.

After she gave birth, she rested up for a couple of days and took the stage back to Idaho City.

Now, she didn't "work", but that's a misnomer, of course. Between raising three sons and a daughter, taking care of a husband, brother and brother in law, and keeping up the house, she worked like the dickens! And she was all of four feet, 11 inches tall and a stern taskmaster. I was 12 when she died and fortunate enough to hear some of the most extraordinary stories about growing up in the Idaho gold country.

Here's a brief story that she dictated to my great-aunt in 1964, mostly about her parents (my great-great grandparents):

My mother was born in Dublin, Ireland, 1858, named Mary Ann Smullen. Her parents were John and Bridget Smullen. She came to America when she was 9 years old by boat with her Grandma Cavanaugh who was to visit her sons, Dan and Tim Cavanaugh.

It took weeks to cross the ocean then and after a time her grandma became ill and died and was buried at sea. Mother often told about how kind the ones on the boat were to her as a little girl alone and far away from anyone she knew. She was soon to be with uncles she would not know when she reached New Orleans.

Uncle Dan and Tim were there to greet their mother and niece. They had no word of what had happened. Very sad, they returned to St. Louis with mother, a little girl they had never seen. They were very kind to mother and kept her as one of their family.

Grandma Cavanaugh had planned to return to Ireland after the visit and mother would have been home again with own family, though soon after she was in St. Louis her mother (my grandmother, Bridget) died. It was decided that mother would stay with Uncle Dan and Aunt Julia for a time. It was some time before mother was told of her mother's death. She had learned to love the family she was with and they loved her dearly.

We visited Uncle Dan and Aunt Julia when we were children and later when Will and I were in St. Louis we visited and went to see their daughter that was 3 years younger than mother. Her name was Mamie McCabe. I spent one afternoon with her and she told me what a pretty little Irish girl my mother was and her natural Irish wit amused them all. I can well understand as it was always with her.

Mother met Dad when he was a news boy in St. Louis and delivered the Globe Democrat to their house. He was about 19. He lived on a farm with his family in Jefferson County, Missouri. Though when winter came he spent most of it with his Aunt Ann Finnegan in St. Louis. He and mother fell in love and married and moved to the farm (Houses Springs, Missouri) where all of their six children were born.

Her folks were not too happy about her marriage because father was not Catholic and a farm boy. They visited her and were kind to all of us and some of them grew fond of Father and did not like the thought of him taking the family way out west. He often said he wished he had of come before he did.

At first Mother was lonesome and uneasy at Idaho City. She feared meeting a drunk or seeing a fight, and a saloon was something she had never been near and worried that her children had to pass one on their way to school.

The years went fast and the children grew to men and women. Three married and three were home. I was the first of the family to marry, was married in Centerville and moved 8 miles to Idaho City, Nov. 5, 1902. Sister Essie married Ernest Fietzie Oct. 1st, 1905, same place in Centerville. Brother Will married Mary Harris in Wallace, Idaho, after living there a short time came back to Centerville to live and once again all the family were together again, until Essie and Ernest moved to Boise a year or two later.

Will and I came to live in Boise then a few years later but Dad, Mother and Lydia, who had never left them and was always there when help and love were needed, never left Idaho City. Came to live in Boise Dec. 19th, 1909. I am now 86 and live alone and the last one of our family of eight: Six children, mother & father.

------------

Incidentally, the whole "not Catholic" business came to head in Idaho City, shortly after Mary and Frank(my great great grandparents) moved from the farm in Houses Springs to Idaho. Idaho City was a pretty big town at the time, but didn't rate a full-time Catholic priest, but had a circuit rider who would come in every so often for communion, baptisms and such. Shortly after the Coopers' arrival, the priest came for a visit. Now, my great great grandfather was a staunch Methodist, but was willing to put up with the priest for his wife's sake. But his patience would only go so far - when the priest found out that they had not had a Catholic wedding, he pronounced that they were living in sin and would have to live apart until such time as the priest felt comfortable performing the service.

Frank Cooper gave him the boot and no Catholic priest ever darkened the doorstep of their household again!
 
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One of the interesting things about most of these letters is the utter lack of punctuation. Some of them are an absolute terror to read because it's very hard to tell where one sentence ends and another begins. A missing comma can impart a tremendous difference as well.

I find myself reading the letters and suddenly realize that what I've read can't possibly be what the writer meant, so back I go to deconstruct and reconstruct the sentences. So, what I've posted here is a semi-edited version of what's on the original paper, with just enough punctuation added to preserve the original meaning of the text.

I don't mind reading a paragraph of run-on sentences, then take the time to decipher it, but I have a much greater personal investment in this stuff than you guys, so I figured that I'd share the fruits of my labor and save you some boring work!
 
I don't see those letters as any worse than half the stuff you read on the internet. And I doubt your ancestors went through as much schooling as the typical Internet Generation.
 
Very true, Jim.

It's a funny thing - when my mother writes me (emails, usually - my folks have become stalwarts of the digital age in their 70s), she uses very precise spelling and grammar - just the way that she speaks.

When my dad sends me emails, the spelling is all over the place and the grammar is tolerably well done.

Both of them are college graduates, but my mom was a teacher and my dad was a civil engineer. I'm an engineer who teaches, so I guess that I got the best of both worlds - I can do my sums and my letterin' too!

Actually, I think that the the big difference is that for the past 35 or 40 years, it's been easier to pick up a telephone than to write a letter.
 
Here's another interesting letter. It's from my great-great-great-great grandmother's sister Ann Miles to my great-great-great-great grandmother Jennette Cooper (grandmother of William, Henry and Chris in the above letters.) Ann lived in the Lower East Side of Manhattan and Ann lived in St. Louis, Missouri. As you may gather from the letter, Ann was a very religious woman. She would periodically bombard Jennette with outpourings of hellfire and brimstone. From what I can gather, they had a fairly difficult relationship - Ann felt that Jennette was leading a rather willful life and Jennette thought that Ann kept sticking her nose in other people's business.

New York January 19, 1853

My Dear Sister Jennette

I received your letter of the 1st Novbr in due time. I was very glad to hear from you and your family that your health is improving. I am happy to hear and I hope it continues. I was struck with the news of your son Joseph sudden death. May the Lord bless the solemn event. To his surviveing brothers and sister, wife and be ye also ready for in the hour ye think not the son of cometh.

My dear sister I hope you have heard from your other son* ere this. May the Lord in his mercy and goodness preserve them and bless and turn them from the error of their ways and to walk in wisdom ways for her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace.

Oh what a mercy it is that the throne of grace is open and an invitation to all that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. May you and I be partakers of that faith that is once given unto the saints to be found in him without

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our own righteousness which is filthy rags.

My dear sister, I have been longer without writing than I intended. I have scarcely any thing new to write to you. I enjoy tolerable health. The boys are pretty well in health though not without being warned that they are mortals very worldly minded. My son B is going on the same course. Every one goeth his own way so that my only hope is in Gods mercy and precious promises. I think I have a desire to live a Godly life in this present very wicked world. May our cold hard hearts be warmed with the love of God which passeth all understanding. Would that the Lord would revive His work in the midst of the years that His word may have a free course from the rising of the sun to the setting of the same.

I have taken the New York Observer which you have probably received. It comes weekly. You will get it for one year. It is reckoned the best religious paper in the City, less sectarian.

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The postage is less if you pay in advance. I find a great deal of interesting reading in it. Write a few lines as soon as you can. I am anxious to hear from you and family. Give my respects, Ann and family all.

Since I received yours, Ann has had another daughter added to her family which consists now of 7 children, 3 boys and 4 girls, the youngest about 4 weeks old. She is getting along pretty well for her. They have had a hard struggle to get along with such a large family. Pinkhams constitution is broken with sickness. They both lack energy. The same each seem to be in the children apparently, but we cant always tell what children are a going to be. Many children dont seem to do but just from hand to mouth, however providence provides beyond our faint expectation. They have not heard from Thomas since I wrote to you last. I fear he don't do much. Well after all our anxiety we must turn to the great Hand of providence with provides daily for us unworthy sinful creatures. I must draw my scribble to a close. Writing is hard work for me. From your very affectionate sister, to all the boys send love, Ann Miles

229 Henry St. NY

* I believe that the "other son" is William, of the first letter in this thread.

Here's an image of the first page of the letter.
 
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I do, indeed, Doc, and it'll be forthcoming. Interestingly, the Idaho State Historical Society has a bunch of our family photos in their archives. Turns out that several of the photo studios donated their photos to the museum years and years ago. This summer my folks and I are going to spend a couple of days at the archives and get copies of everything we can find.

There are also a number of photos and, of all things, my great great grandfather's (and his brother's) original headstones at the Idaho City Museum. About 10 years ago, the whole extended family got together and replaced the wood headstones with nice granite ones. Apparently my great aunt donated the originals to the museum - I just happened to be looking around the back of the building and there they were!

I've got pictures somewhere...my filing system is not exactly archival quality :eek:
 
This whole thread reminded me....

....of an impression I got the other night.

We went to see "True Grit" I recommend the movie to all. It is one which I will buy in DVD when it comes out and will watch repeatedly.

Anyway, my impression of the movie centers on the dialogue. I think the dialogue was clever and very well executed but I doubt people spoke the way the flick portrays. We will never know since there are no recordings of people speaking in casual conversation from that time. We have only writings to examine but up until recently people never spoke the way they wrote. Our writing has always but a bit more eloquent than our speach until we started texting and emailing. Once that started happening our writing got worse. Now, since we don't really know how to write our speaking has gotten worse too. At least this is what I have observed in the emerging generation.

I had the same impression of the dialogue in Gettysburg. It seemed forced and artificial in Gettysburg. The speach patterns in both movies are of the type which need to be rehearsed or written and then spoken only after some practice.

Please do not infer from my comments that I did not like the flick. It was great....Far better than the original.
 
Doc, Barry Pepper called it "Western Shakespeare" and perhaps that's the best description. I sort of had it in my mind that that's the way that they spoke because of the letters that I'd read, but looking back over these letters, I can see that they did not write in the same way as the dialog in True Grit.

But I'm with you, it was a sensational picture.

And speaking of pictures, here are a few faces to put with names. Others will come as I dig them up.

Henry Cooper, the missing brother who eventually showed up and did quite well for himself:

henry_cooper_1.jpg


Frank and Mary Cooper, my great-great grandparents. Mary is Mary Smullen, the little Irish girl whose grandmother and mother died during her voyage to America, leaving her stranded:

frank_and_mary_cooper.jpg


Finally, a glimpse at a real-life mining town. This is Main Street in Centerville, ID, about 1898. This is where my great grandmother lived for several years right after she got married and before moving back to Idaho City. It's still there, you can find it on Google Maps, but it's quite a shadow of its former self. I have several ancestors buried in its Pioneer Cemetery.

centerville_1898_1.jpg
 
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