The following letter was written by Phineas Talcott (1845-1940), the son of Allyn Talcott (1800-1863) and Martha Goodrich Robbins (1808-1896) of Vernon, Tolland county, Connecticut. He addressed his letter to “Friend Fred” whom I feel certain was actually his younger brother Frederick Talcott (1850-1919), despite his use of the word “friend.” From the envelope we learn that Fred was working as a clerk for the Gorham Manufacturing Company in Providence, Rhode Island at the time. It was the largest American manufacturer of sterling and silverplate.

Phineas was 28 years old when he wrote this letter, describing his existence as “a Mark Twain Life.” He was likely alluding to the recently published work by Samuel Clemens titled “Roughing It,” which detailed the realities of western mining camps with a comedic lens. Phineas’ challenges as a sales agent for the Howe Sewing Machine Company are treated with a degree of levity, a style characteristic of Mark Twain.

The letter is dated December 12, 1873—just weeks following the Panic of 1873, which instigated a national economic crisis particularly detrimental to frontier enterprises. The loss of his own employment compels him to state, “I have got to skin out,” a phrase that reflects both the urgent necessity to depart swiftly and the prevailing culture of constant movement and activity that characterized many young men on the frontier after the Civil War, who generally bore minimal responsibilities.

Census records inform us that after his western adventures, Phineas returned to Vernon, Connecticut, where he started a dry goods store.

T R A N S C R I P T I O N

Denver [Colorado Territory]
December 12, 1873

Friend Fred,

Well Old Boy, how do you do after so long? I suppose you will think me a hard crowd for not writing before. Well, Fred, all excuses are foolish so here I go. I am well. As you see by my heading, in site of Pike’s Peak, and have been Bust and Rebust and am getting use to it. 

I cannot tell you much of my experience in so little a space as this letter allows me, but I will try and give you a few points. I have been in Denver one month and I tell you, Fred, have passed through the Wars and yet I am not happy. I have been Agent for the Howe Sewing Machine but they have Bust too and, to use the phrase [in common use] here, I have got to skin out.

I expect to leave here in two days. Am going up the Platt River a number of miles to a ranch to go hunting with a man who has been rooming with me. He is a Brick and has been a gunner in the army four years so you see he is prepared for war while there is yet peace. Lots of deer & antelope are brought in here every day. I have seen about 200 antelope on the plains coming here but was not near enough to hit any—but expect to soon.

You ought to have seen me talking with an Indian Chief the other day. I made slow work of it. But [I] am getting use to it some. I wish you could see some of them red devils in their war paint. This is their phrase for anything large: “Ug, heap Indian,” or “Heap building.” Everything is “heap” when large.

Well Fred, I have led a Mark Twain life. I wish you were with me. There is no better country for health than here. The view of the Rocky Mountains is grand. No words of mine can do them justice or convey to you the Grand sight of them. Send greeting to our friends. — P. Talcott