Letters and Journals of Narcissa Whitman - Part 4



WAIILATPU
Sept. 29th, 1842
My Dear Jane and Edward:
I sit down to write you, but in great haste. My beloved husband has about 
concluded to start next Monday to go to the United States, the dear land 
of our birth; but I remain behind. I could not undertake the journey, if 
it was considered best for me to accompany him, that is to travel as he 
expects to. He hopes to reach the borders in less than three months, if 
the Lord prospers his way. It is a dreadful journey, especially at this 
season of the year; and as much as I want to see you all, I cannot think 
of ever crossing the mountains again-my present health will not admit of 
it. I would go by water, if a way was ever open; but I have no reason to 
think I ever shall.

If you are still in Quincy you may not see him until his return, as his 
business requires great haste. He wishes to reach Boston as early as 
possible so as to make arrangements to return next summer, if prospered. 
The interests of the missionary cause in this country calls him home.

Now, dear Jane, are you going to come and join me in my labours? Is dear 
Edward so far advanced as not to need your aid any more? Do you think you 
would be contented to come and spend the remainder of your life on mission 
ground? If so, make your mind known to husband and he will make 
arrangements for you at Boston to come. Count the cost well before you 
undertake it. It is a dreadful journey to cross the mountains, and 
becoming more and more dangerous every year; but if any mission families 
come, you will find no difficulty in placing yourself under their 
protection. Bring nothing with you but what you need for the way, and a 
Sunday suit, a Bible and some devotional book for your food by the way. 
Send the remainder by ship. When E. has well finished his education, I 
hope he will come, also, for there will be work enough here to do by that 
time. At any rate, if you do not come, spend, if you please, all the time 
you can in writing me until he comes back, for he wishes to return next 
summer. Now do not disappoint me, for I have not heard a word from either 
of you since March, 1840. I have written you much since that time, but it 
may not have reached you.

I shall be left alone at this station for a season, until Mr. Gray can 
send some one up from below to take the charge; and he has left the 
mission and goes to engage in a public school. I hope to have Mr. Rogers 
or Mr. Littlejohn to winter here-the latter wishes to return to the States 
in the spring.

Now, dear J. and E., adieu. I hope you will see husband long enough to 
have a good visit with him. I hope he will call as he goes along. If he 
has time, he will, but his business requires haste, if he returns next 
spring.

Please give much love to Mr. and Mrs. Beardsley; tell her I shall never 
cease to remember and love her, and ardently hope they will both write me. 
I should like to hear of the different members of her family with whom I 
used to be acquainted.

Gladly would I write more if I could, but must write a line to other 
friends. Pray for me and mine while we are separated from each other.

Much love from myself to you both.

Affectionately your sister,

N. WHITMAN.

P.S.-I have forgotten to speak of husband's company in travel. He is Mr. 
A.L. Lovejoy, a lawyer who came up from the States this summer, and now is 
willing and anxious to return for the good he may do in returning. He will 
probably come back again. He is not a Christian, but appears to be an 
intelligent, interesting man.

N.W.


Mr. Edward W. Prentiss,
Mission Institute,
Quincy, Illinois
Favour of Dr. Whitman Care of Rev. Wm. Beardsley
WIELETPOO
Oct. 4th, 1842
My Dear Husband:
The line you sent me to-day by Aps did me great good. I thought I was 
cheerful and happy before it came, but on the perusal of it I found that 
it increased my happiness four-fold. I believe the Lord will preserve me 
from being anxious about you and I was glad to hear you say with so much 
confidence that you trusted in Him for safety. He will protect you I 
firmly believe. Night and day shall my prayer ascend to Him in your behalf 
and the cause in which you have sacrificed the endearments of home, at the 
risk of your life, to see advancing, more to the honor and glory of God. 
Mr. G and family did not leave until this morn; they spent the night here, 
which was a great relief to me. I am sorry we forgot your pencil, comb and 
journal. Aps brought back Mr. Lovejoy's-said you left it in camp. He told 
me quite a story about the Prince stopping you, and so did Ipuantatawiksa. 
Prince came in very pleasant this afternoon-said he wanted John to go up 
and help him to-morrow.

5th. In arranging the cupboard to-day, I found you had not taken the 
compass as you designed to. I fear you will suffer for the want of it; 
wish I could send it to you with the other things you have forgotten. I 
intended to have spoken to you about purchasing one or two pair of 
spectacles. Perhaps you will think of it. Mr. G. and family had some 
trouble in getting to Walla Walla yesterday. The cart broke. Hannah had an 
ague fit and one of the children-Helen is recovering; she has appeared 
quite well to-day. I feel in much better health than when you left. You 
will see by this that I do not neglect the tree you have given me to 
cultivate. Where are you tonight, precious husband? I hope you have been 
prosperous to-day and are sleeping sweetly. Good night, my loved one.

7th. My Dear Husband:-I got dreadfully frightened last night. About 
midnight I was awakened by some one trying to open my bedroom door. At 
first I did not know what to understand by it. I raised my head and 
listened awhile and then lay down again. Soon the latch was raised and the 
door opened a little. I sprang from the bed in a moment and closed the 
door again, but the ruffian pushed and pushed and tried to unlatch it, but 
could not succeed; finally he gained upon me until he opened the door 
again and as I supposed disengaged his blanket (at the same time I calling 
John) and ran as for his life. The east dining room door was open. I 
thought it was locked, but it appears that it was not. I fastened the 
door, lit a candle and went to bed trembling and cold, but could not rest 
until I had called John to bring his bed and sleep in the kitchen. It was 
in such a time that I found he was too far off. Had the ruffian persisted 
I do not know what I should have done. I did not think of the war club, 
but I thought of the poker. Thanks be to our Heavenly Father. He 
mercifully "delivered me from the hand of a savage man." Mungo arrived in 
the night some time and came in to see me this noon. I told him about the 
Indian coming into my room-the first I spoke of it to any one. Soon after 
he went to Walla Walla and left his wife with me. I did not think to write 
by him. He returned this eve bringing letters from Mr. McKinlay and Mr. 
Gray, who it seems is not off yet, urging me to remove immediately to 
Walla Walla. Mungo told them of my fright last night; it alarmed them very 
much. Mr. McK. and wife were coming up here to-morrow and she was going to 
stay some time with me, but he says he will not do it now, but insists 
upon my removing there immediately. He has told Mungo to stay until he 
comes on Monday and to-morrow he sends back the wagon for me to be ready 
to go on Tuesday. I shall go if I am able. They appear so anxious about 
me; doubtless it is not safe for me to remain alone any longer. In talking 
to Mr. McKay and Feathercap about it, I told them I should leave and go 
below-I could not stay and be treated so. I told them I came near beating 
him with the war club; they said it would have been good if I had done so 
and laid him flat so that they all might see who he was. Some think there 
will be no further danger. I think it safer for me to go now, as our 
friends are so anxious about me, and Mr. and Mrs. Mck. so kindly offer to 
prepare a room to make me comfortable, and Mrs. G. says "Bring a small 
stove with you." Mungo appears quite humble-says he is sorry for his bad 
conduct and wants I should teach his wife to write or rather have her work 
for me. He came near having a fight with the one that had the first claim 
upon her. In the first place the Indian stole one of his horses. M. went 
and took it back again. He was then met by him and others armed with bows 
and arrows. M. resorted to his pistol, but Charles told him not to shoot 
him. They settled it by his requesting some present and M. paying him a 
shirt. Messrs. W. and E. did not marry them, but sent him to you for your 
direction. M. gave for his wife 4 horses, 1 gun, 1 coat, vest, pantaloons, 
leggings, 2 shirts and 100 loads of ammunition and a blanket. The poor 
girl had everything taken from her but the dress she had on. Ask Deborah 
how she would like beginning in the world in that style. For my part I 
should prefer the winter just past rather than just begun for such a 
beginning.

My good woman did not go away as we expected when you paid her. She came 
in sick on Wednesday; I gave her some pills and this morning she cam again 
and has washed for me. Pitiitosh's wife came also and I set her to work as 
I had enough to do before the day was gone. Feathercap's wife came in and 
set herself to work. She has done so before, since you left. Cleaned out 
the cellar and helped arrange the things brought from the other house. 
John ground for them to-day-our Indians.

Sat. eve, 8th-I do not feel as sad and lonely this eve as I always have 
formerly done when you have been away. The tree you had given me to 
cultivate no doubt has a good effect upon me. You could not have selected 
one so useful to me. I see plainly that it will not fail to test my 
affection for my dear husband in the end. I hope you do not have a sad 
moment about me. Where are you to-night, my love, preparing to spend the 
holy Sabbath. My heart has met thine at the mercy seat and I trust 
blessings are in store for you on the morrow, both for body and mind. 
Methinks you have taken leave of Monsieur Bayette and gone a comfortable 
day beyond. The Indians say more Americans are coming-perhaps I shall hear 
from you again. Again let me say, be not anxious for me-for the sympathies 
of all are excited for me the moment they hear you have gone. I shall be 
well taken care of and no doubt shall have more letters to answer than I 
am able to write. Received one to-day from Mr. Spaulding expressing the 
kindest sympathy and concern, both for you and myself, and desire for the 
success of your undertaking. He is coming here next week; says Mr. Eells 
will be here at the same time. It is the Lord sustains me; I know it must 
be that or I should not feel as happy about you as I do, and I trust you 
feel no less his supporting hand that I do. O, may we continue to feel it 
until we are brought together again rejoicing in his goodness.

The Indians have been so engaged in singing their hunting songs for 
several days past that but few have come around the house until to-day. 
The bride has attracted them, I suppose. How will you feel, dear husband, 
when you seat yourself in Sister Julia's house, or with our mothers, and 
not see the windows filled with Indians, and the doors also; will you not 
feel lost? I can scarcely imagine how you will feel. Could it consistently 
with duty have been so I should rejoice to be a partaker with you of the 
feelings necessarily produced by a visit to those dear firesides-but I am 
happy in remaining, while you are permitted the prospect-and I hope for 
the reality of seeing those beloved objects once more.

Sabbath eve, 9th-My dear husband would like to know what kind of a Sabbath 
we have had here, for I know his heart is with the people. Ellice, who 
brought me Mr. Spaulding's letter, was their minister to-day. This 
afternoon I had a Bible class in English with him, John and Mungo, besides 
the time I spent with the children. He read and appeared to understand 
very well. He thinks he loves the Saviour. I urged the duty of secret 
prayer in addition to his family worship, and showed him the passage in 
Matthew. He said he would in future attend to the duty daily. He told me 
yesterday that if he had been here he would have gone with you to the 
States. Although I am alone as to associates and my husband is gone, yet I 
have not been lonely to-day. The presence of the Saviour fills every 
vacancy. My little children appear thoughtful and solemn. Helen said, 
"Will father come home to-day?" when the people were assembling for 
worship. She is quite well now.

12th.-My Dear Husband:-I am now at Walla Walla-came here yesterday; was 
too unwell to undertake the journey, but could not refuse, as Mr. McKinlay 
had come on purpose to take me. He came in the wagon and brought the 
trundlebed and I laid down most all the way. To-day I have been scarcely 
able to get off the bed; feel a little better tonight, so I thought I must 
write a little to you, although it must be but a little, for the want of 
strength. The Indians did not like my leaving very well-seemed to regret 
the cause. I felt strongly to prefer to stay there if it could be 
considered prudent, but he care and anxiety was wearing upon me too much. 
Good night, beloved husband.

Friday eve, 14th.-My Dear Husband:-Your letter written last Saturday, the 
8th, was handed me this afternoon by Raymond. I rejoice to hear of your 
prosperity so far, and hope by this time you are near Fort Hall.

17th.-I undertook to write to you last Friday, but was too sick to do it 
and had to give it up. Took a powder of quinine and calomel that night-the 
next day and yesterday could scarcely go or lie in bed. I suffered much 
for the conveniences of our dear home; think I received serious injury in 
sleeping on damp made blankets for a bed, for I have been sick ever since 
I have been here. I anticipated being not as comfortable here as at home, 
and could I have been left a week longer I should have preferred it, for I 
did not think I should be further molested, but Mr. McKinlay would not 
leave me there any longer. Mr. and Mrs. McKinlay are very kind, but they 
know not how to make one as easy and comfortable as Mr. Pambrun used to. 
It has been warmer for two days past and the stove is now up, so that I am 
pretty comfortably situated now.

But why should I say so much about myself? My dear husband does not give 
me such an example. Indeed, I wish to hear so much about your own and my 
other self, and hear so little when you do write, that I probably am more 
particular than I otherwise would be in speaking of myself.

Mr. McDonald arrived yesterday from Vancouver. The ship Victoria is not 
in. He says Mr. Ermatinger has become a Catholic. He wrote you and sent me 
a box of raisins.

Letters arrived today from Messrs. W. and Eells. They have no idea that 
you are at Fort Hall, as you probably are at this time. They wish an 
"invoice of property taken by Mr. G." but he has left none. I shall write 
him that they wish it.

Mr. Walker has written you. His closing remark is, "Be assured that 
whether you go or stay, you and Mrs. W. will have our prayers and best 
wishes for your peace and usefulness. May the Lord direct us all." The 
letters came to Wieletpoo and the mule was sent, but the bearers returned 
without coming here, and of course no opportunity of sending them the 
intelligence of your departure.

I have filled this sheet-perhaps I shall another before the express 
arrives. Mr. Perkins has sent word to have me come down there in the 
express boats without fail. I have not yet determined what I shall do. 
Should like to be relieved of the care of David if I could while you are 
gone, but do not know as I can. I want to see Mr. S. before then, if I 
conclude to go.

Your affectionate wife,

NARCISSA WHITMAN


SHAWNEE MISSION SCHOOL,
NEAR WESTPORT
May 27, 1843
Dear Brother Edward:
I take this opportunity to write you a few lines before I leave the 
border. I was sorry not to see you when I was at Quincy, but was glad to 
hear so much about you. It gave me great pleasure to see Sister Jane.

I suppose you think yourself a man now, and perhaps are not anxious for 
advice. I will venture, however, to let you know how anxious I am for you 
to complete your education. Entering the ministry a year or two sooner 
will not avail for any good purpose. We ought to aim at the greatest 
usefulness. I trust your manhood will only add to your firm determination 
to do all in your power for the glory of God, and good of his cause. I do 
not feel that I shall never see you, but I cannot tell how it will be 
likely to be, except you come to Oregon. I am sorry I have not got a 
letter from you for Narcissa. I need not tell you that she loves you, for 
I have no doubt she spoke for herself in the letter I brought you.

I cannot tell you very much about the immigrants to Oregon. They appear 
very willing, and I have no doubt are generally of an enterprising 
character. There are over two hundred men, besides women and children, as 
it is said. No one can well tell, until we are all on the road and get 
together, how many there are. Some have been gone a week and others have 
not yet started. I hope to start tomorrow. I shall have an easy journey as 
I have not much to do, having no one depending on me.

Lieut. Fremont, of the United States Engineers Corps, goes out with about 
thirty men to explore for the government, and expects to return this fall. 
His men are Canadian voyageurs mostly, and himself a Catholic. Two Papal 
priests and their lay helpers are along, and Father DeSmet has gone back 
in order to go to Europe to bring out others by ship.

I think, however, the immigrants who are going out will be a good 
acquisition. It will call on Christians to labor for their good. What a 
pity a good minister was not with us to go along at once. My expectations 
are high for that country. I believe it must become one of the best of 
countries very soon.

Let us hear from you as often as you can. If you send letters for crossing 
the mountains, direct to the care of Boone & Hamilton, Westport, Missouri. 
You can send letters every fall by merchants to be left with them; Rev. 
Doctor Armstrong, in New York, at the office of A.B.C.F.M., or to Boston, 
as the Mission House of the A.B.C.F.M., care of Rev. David Greene. Ships 
mostly sail in the fall, so that fall letters should go by ship and spring 
letters come the other way. Tell Jane two or three young lawyers will be 
in the party for Oregon, but I hope this will not deter her from coming if 
she has an opportunity.

I should not be surprised if I saw a number of your father's family west 
of the mountains before long. Jackson and Galusha may come. I hope to 
start to-morrow. It is very late starting, but I hope to go on fast after 
I cross the mountains, and have no more dangerous Indians.

With best regards and brotherly affection I am, dear brother,

Yours truly,

MARCUS WHITMAN

 

Mr. Edward Prentiss,
Quincy, Illinois.
My Dear Father and Mother:
A little more than a year has elapsed since I had the pleasure of seeing 
you. The remembrance of that visit will never be effaced from my mind. I 
did not misjudge as to my duty to return home; the importance of my 
accompanying the emigration on one hand and the consequent scarcity of 
provisions on the other, strongly called for my return, and forbid my 
bringing another party that year.

As I hold the settlement of this country by Americans rather than by an 
English colony most important, I am happy to have been the means of 
landing so large an emigration on to the shores of the Columbia, with 
their wagons, families and stock, all in safety.

The health of Narcissa was such in my absence and since my return as to 
call loudly from my presence. We despaired of her life at times and for 
the winter have not felt she could live long. But there is more hope at 
present, although nothing very decisive can be said. While on the way 
back, I had an inflammation in my foot which threatened to suppurate, but 
I discusses it and thought nothing more of it until I got home, when I 
found I had a tumor on the instep. It appears to be a bony tumor and has 
given me a good deal of apprehension and inconvenience, but is now some 
better, but not well. 

It gives me much pleasure to be back again and quietly at work again for 
the Indians. It does not concern me so much what is to become of any 
particular set of Indians, as to give them the offer of salvation through 
the gospel and the opportunity of civilization, and then I am content to 
do good to all men as "I have opportunity." I have no doubt our greatest 
work is to be to aid the white settlement of this country and help to 
found its religious institutions. Providence has its full share in all 
these events. Although the Indians have made, and are making, rapid 
advance in religious knowledge and civilization, yet it cannot be hoped 
that time will be allowed to mature either the work of Christianization or 
civilization before the white settlers will demand the soil and seek the 
removal of both the Indians and the Mission. What Americans desire of this 
kind they always effect, and it is equally useless to oppose or desire it 
otherwise. To guide, as far as can be done, and direct these tendencies 
for the best, is evidently the part of wisdom. Indeed, I am fully 
convinced that when a people refuse or neglect to fill the designs of 
Providence, they ought not to complain at the results; and so it is 
equally useless for Christians to be anxious on their account. The Indians 
have in no case obeyed the command to multiply and replenish the earth, 
and they cannot stand in the way of others in doing so. A place will be 
left them to do this as fully as their ability to obey will permit, and 
the more we can do for them the more fully will this be realized. No 
exclusiveness can be asked for any portion of the human family. The 
exercise of his rights are all that can be desired. In order for this to 
its proper extent in regard to the Indians, it is necessary that they seek 
to preserve their rights by peaceable means only. Any violations of this 
rule will be visited with only evil results to themselves.

The Indians are anxious about the consequence of settlers among them, but 
I hope there will be no acts of violence on either hand. An evil affair at 
the Falls of the Willamette, resulted in the death of two white men killed 
and one Indian. But all is now quiet. I will try to write to Brother 
Jackson when I will treat of the country, etc. 

It will not surprise me to see your whole family in this country in two 
years. Let us hear from you often. Narcissa may be able to write for 
herself. We wish to be remembered with your other children in your prayers.

Your affectionate son,

MARCUS WHITMAN.

Hon. Stephen Prentiss
Cuba, Allegheny Co., New York.
WAIILATPU
Oct. 9th, 1844.
Beloved and Honored Parents:
I have no unanswered letters on hand, either from dear father and mother 
or any of the family, yet I cannot refrain from writing every stated 
opportunity. The season has arrived when the emigrants are beginning to 
pass us on their way to the Willamette. Last season there were such a 
multitude of starving people passed us that quite drained us of all our 
provisions, except potatoes. Husband has been endeavoring this summer to 
cultivate so as to be able to impart without so much distressing 
ourselves. In addition to this, he has been obliged to build a mill, and 
to do it principally with his own hands, which has rendered it exceedingly 
laborious for him. In the meantime, I have endeavored to lighten his 
burden as much as possible in superintending the ingathering of the 
garden, etc. During this period, the Indians belonging to this station and 
the Nez Perces go to Forts Hall and Boise to meet the emigrants for the 
purpose of trading their wornout cattle for horses. Last week Tuesday, 
several young men arrived, the first of the party that brought us any 
definite intelligence concerning them (having nothing but Indian reports 
previous), among whom was a youth from Rushville formerly, of the name of 
Gilbert, one of husband's scholars.

Last Friday a family of eight arrived, including the grandmother, an aged 
woman, probably as old, or older than my mother. Several such persons have 
passed, both men and women, and I often think when I gaze upon them, shall 
I ever be permitted to look upon the face of my dear parents in this land?

25th-When I commenced this letter I intended to write a little every day, 
so as to give you a picture of our situation at this time. But it has been 
impossible. Now I must write as briefly as possible and send off my 
letter, or lose the opportunity. The emigration is late in getting into 
the country. It is now the last of October and they have just begun to 
arrive with their wagons. The Blue mountains are covered with snow, and 
many families, if not half of the party, are back in or beyond the 
mountains, and what is still worse, destitute or provisions and some of 
them of clothing. Many are sick, several with children born on the way. 
One family arrived here night before last, and the next morn a child was 
born; another is expected in the same condition.

Here we are, one family alone, a way mark, as it were, or center post, 
about which multitudes will or must gather this winter. And these we must 
feed and warm to the extent of our powers. Blessed by God that He has 
given us so abundantly of the fruit of the earth that we may impart to 
those who are thus famishing. Two preachers with large families are here 
and wish to stay for the winter, both Methodist. With all this upon our 
hands, besides our duties and labors for the Indians, can any one think we 
lack employment or have any time to be idle?

Mr. and Mrs. Littlejohn left us in September and have gone below to settle 
in the Willamette. We have been looking for associated this fall, but the 
Board could get none ready, but say, they will send next year. Am I ever 
to see any of my family among the tide of emigration that is flowing west?

Our mill is finished and grinds well. It is a mill out of doors or without 
a house; that we must build next year.

We have employed a young man of the party to teach school, so that we hope 
to have both an English school and one for the natives. My health has been 
improving remarkably through the summer, and one great means has been 
daily bathing in the river. I was very miserable one year ago now, and was 
brought very low and poor; now I am better than I have been for some time, 
and quite fleshly for me. I weigh one hundred and sixty-seven pounds; much 
higher than ever before in my life. This will make the girls laugh, I 
know. Mrs. Spaulding's health is better than last year. She expects an 
increase in her family soon. 

This country is destined to be filled, and we desire greatly to have good 
people come, and ministers and Christians, that it may be saved from being 
a sink of wickedness and prostitution. We need many houses to accommodate 
the families that will be obliged to winter here. All the house room that 
we have to spare is filled already. It is expected that there are more 
than five hundred souls back in the snow and mountains. Among the number 
is an orphan family of seven children, the youngest an infant born on the 
way, whose parents have both died since they left the States. Application 
has been made for us to take them, as they have not a relative in the 
company. What we shall do I cannot say; we cannot see them suffer, if the 
Lord casts them upon us. He will give us His grace and strength to do our 
duty to them.

I cannot write any more, I am so thronged and employed that I feel 
sometimes like being crazy, and my poor husband, if he had a hundred 
strings tied to him pulling in every direction, could not be any worse off.

Dear parents, do pray earnestly for your children here, for their 
situation is one of great trial, as well as of responsibility.

Love from us both to you all. I am disappointed in not getting letters 
from some of the dear ones this fall, but so it must be and I submit.

Your affectionate daughter

NARCISSA

 

My Dear Parents:
I have now a family of eleven children. This makes me feel as if I could 
not write a letter, not even to my dearest friends, much as I desire to . 
I get along very well with them; they have been to school most of the 
time; we have had an excellent teacher, a young man from New York. He 
became hopefully converted soon after entering our family, and mother, I 
wish you could see me now in the midst of such a group of little ones; 
there are two girls of nine years, one of seven, a girl and a boy of six, 
another girl of five, another of three and the baby, she is now ten 
months. I often think of mother when she had the care of Henry Martin 
Curtis.

It would make me indescribably happy to have father and mother and some of 
the children come to Oregon; but it is such a journey I fear Mother would 
be sorry she undertook it, if she should conclude to come, but if once 
here I think there would be no cause of regret. Families can come quite 
comfortable and easy in wagons all the way. But why should I wish thus? It 
cannot be possible that I shall see my beloved parents again-is it?-Until 
I meet them in heaven. The Lord only knows; I will leave it with Him to 
direct all these things. We have had some serious trials this spring with 
the Indians. Two important Indians have died and they have ventured to say 
and intimate that the doctor has killed them by his magical power, in the 
same way they accuse their own sorcerers and kill them for it. Also an 
important young man has been killed in California by Americans; he was the 
son of the Walla Walla chief and went there to get cattle, with a few 
others. This has produced much excitement also. We are in the midst of 
excitement and prejudice on all sides, both from Indians and passing 
immigrants, but the Lord has preserved us hitherto and will continue to, 
if we trust Him. Love to all, as ever and forever. 

Your affectionate daughter,

NARCISSA.


Miss Jane A. Prentiss,
Cuba, New York.
WAIILATPU
April 2, 1846.
My Dear Jane:
The season for sending letters has nearly arrived, and I begin to feel as 
if I must be about writing to some of my friends or they will complain of 
my negligence or forgetfulness. I believe I have written very few letters 
since the doctor returned. My health has been so poor, and my family has 
increased so rapidly, that it has been impossible. You will be astonished 
to know that we have eleven children in our family, and not one of them 
our own by birth, but so it is. Seven orphans were brought to our door in 
October, 1844, whose parents both died on the way to this country. 
Destitute and friendless, there was no other alternative-we must take them 
in or they must perish. The youngest was an infant five months old-born on 
the way-nearly famished and but just alive; the eldest was 13-two boys and 
five girls; the boys were the oldest. The eldest daughter was lying with a 
broken leg by the side of her parents as they were dying, one after the 
other. They were an afflicted and distressed family in the journey, and 
when the children arrived here they were in a miserable condition. You can 
better imagine than I can describe my feelings under those circumstances. 
Weak and feeble as I was, in an Indian country without the possibility of 
obtaining help, to have so many helpless children cast upon our arms at 
once, rolled a burden upon me insupportable. Nothing could reconcile me to 
it but the thought that it was the Lord that brought them here, and He 
would give me grace and strength so to discharge my duty to them as to be 
acceptable in His sight. The Lord at the same time sent us a very good 
young man, originally from New York, whom we employed to teach an English 
school. He was of great assistance to me in bringing the children into 
good habits and advancing them in reading, as well as in the government of 
them. He was not pious when he entered the family, but the influence of 
being once more in a Christian family, called to his mind the feeling and 
many prayers and tears of a pious mother and deceased father for him, and 
overwhelmed him. He went to a retired spot just below the house on the 
river side and wept bitterly and poured out his soul to God in prayer and 
consecrated himself to His service. He immediately engaged in religious 
duty and was my associate in instructing and labouring with the children 
in Sabbath school and otherwise. At the annual meeting of our mission he 
united with the mission church. He is now in the Willamette teaching in 
the Oregon Institute. This was the winter of 1844 and 1845.

I received no letters from you or Edward that fall and thought it 
surprising that in all that great company you could not have sent us a 
single letter. I think I wrote you in the spring by Overton's party; hope 
you have got it by this time. It seems to me the immigration might bring 
me letters from my friends every year. I have not had a letter from mother 
in a great while, and I most envy you your privilege and wonder why you 
did not send it to me, so that I might have the reading also; the last 
from father was when doctor returned. I have just been writing to Edward 
how much we wish to see you both here and hope you will three of you come; 
there is work enough for you to do. We could give you a school all the 
time-an English school-our children and the children of the other families 
of the mission and perhaps some others; also, and Indian school some part 
of the time.

Dearest Jane, you know not what special tokens of our dear Redeemer's love 
and mercy we have been receiving the last three months. Last Saturday, 
however, was a day of all days never to be forgotten by me, while I live. 
And can you think what it was, beloved sister? It was this: The triumphant 
death of a dear brother in Christ. I wish I could enter into particulars 
and lay out the whole scene before you so that you could see and feel it 
as I do and those who were witnesses of his glorious departure. The 
individual was Joseph L. Finley of Illinois, who came over with the last 
immigration for his health; his disease was consumption, and deep-seated 
when he left the states. He was advised to stop here for the winter 
because it would be so unfavourable for invalids in the lower country in 
the winter. You will wonder how I could have the care of him in my feeble 
state of health and large family. He kept about until about the middle of 
January and during that time boarded with a cousin that stopped for the 
winter; when he became confined to his room, I opened my bedroom to him, 
as there was no other on the premises suitable for a sick man, and a 
cousin, a young woman, came and took care of him until the families left 
for the Willamette, the first of March. Mr. Rogers, our school teacher, 
had the principal care of him, as also during the journey. He was without 
a well-grounded hope when he came here, and the Lord was pleased to bless 
our efforts for his salvation. He afterwards desired to unite with our 
church, and accordingly did Feb. 26th, in company with Mr. Rogers, who had 
formerly been a member of the Seceders. Being in my family, I was very 
much with him and read and prayed with him almost daily towards the close 
of his life. He grew in grace steadily and felt that he was over-
privileged to die in such a quiet place, where he could have the society 
of those who cared for his soul. Dear sister-he was a stranger, moneyless 
and friendless, in one sense-no relative who felt the responsibility of 
caring for him. He was just such a one as the Saviour says, "Inasmuch as 
ye have done it unto the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto 
me."

Mr. Finley was nearly 32 years of age-was never married.

We felt, that is Brother Rogers and myself, that we were abundantly 
rewarded for all the care and labour we had bestowed upon him. It was such 
a glorious sight, especially to Brother Spaulding and Brother Rogers, who 
had never seen the like before. Husband and myself saw much the same in 
Mrs. Satterlee, at Liberty, when we were coming to this country. Let us 
praise the Lord, dear sister, and live so that our death may be as 
triumphantly glorious.

Affectionately your sister,

NARCISSA WHITMAN.


Mr. Edward W. Prentiss,
Quincy, Illinois.
WAIILATPU
April 13th, 1846.
My Dear Harriet:
I believe I have not written you since the Lord brought this orphan family 
under our care. How could I, for I have been so unwell and had this 
increase of care upon my mind, that I have written to no one in the 
States, as I recollect. I find the labor greater in doing for so many, 
especially in instructing them-where they come in all at once-than if they 
had come along by degrees and had received a start in their education, one 
before the other; whereas all their minds appear to be alike uninstructed, 
especially in the great truths of Christianity.

I would like to know how you and Clarissa get along in unfolding the minds 
of your little ones. I hope you both feel that the immortal part is of the 
greatest moment in all your strivings for them, and to educate the 
physical in such a way as to give the immortal part the utmost vigor and 
energy possible.

I used to think mother was the best hand to take care of babies I ever 
saw, but I believe, or we have the vanity to think, we have improved upon 
her plan. That you may see how we manage with our children, I will give 
you a specimen of our habits with them and we feel them important, too, 
especially that they may grow up healthy and strong. Take my baby, as an 
example: in October, 1844, she arrived here in the hands of an old filthy 
woman, sick, emaciated and but just alive. She was born some where on the 
Platte river in the first part of the journey, on the last day of May. Her 
mother died on the 25th of September. She was five months old when she was 
brought here-had suffered for the want of proper nourishment until she was 
nearly starved. The old woman did the best she could, but she was in 
distressed circumstances herself, and a wicked, disobedient family around 
her to see to.

Husband thought we could get along with all but the baby-he did not see 
how we could take that; but I felt that if I must take any, I wanted her 
as a charm to bind the rest to me. So we took her, a poor distressed 
little object, not larger than a babe three weeks old. Had she been taken 
past at this late season, death would have been her portion, and that in a 
few days. The first thing I did for her was to give her some milk and put 
her in the cradle. She drank a gill, she was so hungry, but soon cleared 
herself of it by vomiting and purging. I next had a pail of warm water and 
put her in it, gave her a thorough cleansing with soap and water, and put 
on some clean clothes;-put her in the cradle and she had a fine nap. This 
I followed every day, washing her thoroughly in tepid water, about the 
middle of the forenoon.

She soon began to mend, but I was obliged to reduce her milk with a little 
water, as her stomach was so weak she could not bear it in its full 
strength.

Now I suppose you think such a child would be very troublesome nights, but 
it was not so with her; we put her in the cradle and she slept until 
morning without waking us more than once, and that only for a few of the 
first nights. Her habits of eating and sleeping were as regular as clock-
work. She had a little gill cup which we fed her in; she would take that 
full every meal, and when done would want no more for a long time. Thus I 
continued, giving her nothing else but milk, she only required the more 
until her measure became half a pint. In consequence of the derangement of 
her digestive powers, which did not recover their healthy tone, she had a 
day of sickness some time in Dec. when we gave her a little oil and 
calomel; this restored her completely, and since that time, and even 
before, she has nothing to do but to grow, and that as fast as possible; 
she is as large or larger than her next older sister Louisa was when she 
came here, then nearly three years old. She now lacks a month and a half 
of being two years old. She is strong, healthy, fleshy, heavy, runs any 
where she is permitted, talks everything nearly, is full of mischief if I 
am out of the room. She is energetic and active enough and has a 
disposition to have her own way, especially with the children, if she is 
not prevented.

She contended sharply for the mastery with her mother before she was a 
year old, but she, of course, had to submit. Since then she has been very 
obedient, but frequently tries the point to see if her parents are 
steadfast and uniform in their requirements or not. She will obey very 
well in sight, but loves to get out of sight for the purpose of doing as 
she pleases. She sings a little, but not nearly as much as Alice C. did 
when she was of her age. Thus much for my baby, Henrietta Naomi Sager. She 
had another name when she came here, but the children were anxious to call 
her after her parents. Her father's name was Henry and her mother's name 
was Naomi-we put them together.

What I call an improvement upon mother's plan is the daily bathing of 
children. I take a child as soon as it is born and put it in a washbowl of 
water and give it a thorough washing with soap. I do this the next day and 
the next, and so on every day as long as the washbowl will hold it; when 
it will not, then I get a tub or something larger, and continue to do it 
until the child is able to be carried to the river or to go itself. Every 
one of my girls go to the river all summer long for bathing every day 
before dinner, and they love it so well that they would as soon do without 
their dinner s without that. In the winter we bathe in a tub once a week 
at the least. This is our practice as well as the children. I do not know 
but these are your habits, but if they are not, I should like to have you 
try them just to see the benefit of them. I never gave Henrietta any food 
but milk until she was nearly a year-and-a-half old. She never wanted any 
thing else. I avoid as much as possible giving my children candies, 
sweetmeats, etc. such as many parents allow their children to indulge in 
almost all the while; neither do I permit them to eat cakes and pies very 
often.

It is well to study these things with regard to our children, for it saves 
many a doctor bill; and another thing with our children, we never give 
medicine if we can help it. If children complain of the headache, or are 
sick at the stomach, send them to bed without their supper or other meals; 
they are sure to get up very soon feeling as well as ever.

My husband says many times when a physician is called to see a patient he 
finds nothing ails him but eating too much. If he is told this he will be 
offended, so he is obliged to give him something, when all he needs is to 
do without a meal or two and to fast a day or two and drink water gruel.

Doubtless you will think this a strange letter, Harriet, but you must take 
it for what is worth and make the best of it.

We sleep out of doors in the summer a good deal-the boys all summer. This 
is a fine, healthy climate. I wish you were here to enjoy it with me, and 
pa and ma, too. We have as happy a family as the world affords. I do not 
wish to be in a better situation than this.

I never hear as much as I wish about Stephen's children. I should think 
Nancy Jane might write her aunt now-tell me something about them.

O, how I wish you were all here. I could find work enough for you all to 
do; and every winter we have a good school, so that our children are 
learning as fast as most children in the States.

Harriet, I do want you and that good husband of yours to come here and 
bring pa and ma. I know you will like it after you get here, if you do not 
like the journey. There are many of the last immigration that came without 
their families, that are now going back to bring them as quick as 
possible, and are only sorry they did not bring them last year. Bring as 
many girls as you can, but let every young man bring a wife, for he will 
want one after he gets here, if he never did before. Girls are in good 
demand for wives. I hope Edward and Jane will come. I have written to them 
to come. Judson wants to come, too. I hope he will, and many other 
Christians. Where is Jonas G.? Why does he not come? Poor man, I never can 
think of him without sorrow.

Love to all, and a kiss for all those little ones.

NARCISSA