Comments
It seems that Roma had a pregnancy scare and took something, perhaps to induce a miscarriage―there is a reference to a “tea,” and a suggestion that she keep it in case it’s needed again. A combination of missing a critical postcard and having to read between the lines make it difficult to know for sure what has happened. They both express relief, more than once, that her “company” has arrived. Fred visited her at her new digs in Fostoria where she has her new job as music teacher and so much of their communication in this period occurred in person. She has found a good rooming house with the Nears, for just $5 per week, and she is figuring out whether to go with the Methodists or Presbyterians for an additional $5 per week to be part of their choir. She is caught up with taking on the new job with many demands, including supervising 51 teachers.
She makes reference to an old Fostoria beau whom she has run into, but we learn nothing further. What must Fred think about her collecting, or unearthing, beaus like charms on a bracelet. She does seem to collect positive attention from men and women of all ages. He does not seem bothered, maybe because of his own ambivalence regarding marriage with her. He alludes to a male friend whom he traveled with in England five years ago and has kept up a steady and enjoyable correspondence with him since. Small clues like this are what lead me to think he had homosexual relationships and was perhaps ambivalent about marriage.
[Fostoria, Ohio, 3:30 AM, September 13, 1915.]
Dearest Fred how I wish I could talk to you. My letter last night was such a complete failure, and I don’t believe this one is going to be much better. Dear, my surroundings, work and everything are ideal, if I could only look, act and feel natural. It just seems as tho I am dreaming. But before I say anything more about it, I will wait until I hear from you. All of my letters must be destroyed and I shall do likewise.
Dear my new suit is brown, military style, and I like it real well. My hat is plain tailored, just for school.
Superintendent Solomon insisted upon my staying at their home Friday evening. I like him fine, grand, but his wife is the biggest gossip I have ever seen or heard. I sure know what is coming to me. As I sat there I couldn’t help but think what a handicap or help a woman could be to a man. She tries to do her duty but she is just common plus.
I don’t know just how much I have told you, so I will begin at the beginning and make a diary of it.
Left Columbus Friday at two-forty five. Almost missed my train. Stayed all night at Solomons. Saturday Mrs. Solomon and I looked for rooms. (Oh I guess I’ll just write) I was fortunate enough to get in at a Mrs. Near’s. There are five girls who room here and ten board, and I know we are going to get along just fine. The only thing, you sure can do no better writing around here. I have been nearly two hours writing this much. It is late and the rest have just retired, and I have got to get my sleep, at least until I get started. My room is just fine. I have a grand big bed, big dresser, lots of closet room two windows and a lavatory in my room. It is also down stairs. Mrs. Near sets the best table and I only pay five dollars a week.
We had the last teachers’ meeting yesterday. Just think dear, I will have to call teachers’ meetings and conduct them. We have fifty-one, do you think I can “boss” that many?
The pastor’s assistant just came home from church and said she had a T-L [?] for me. (I think I taught you what that was.) The Latin teacher, Miss Abernethy, said, “oh we have got the dearest, sweetest prettiest music teacher, she is a little darling.” Dear will they always say that? They must.
When Mr. B. comes to Toledo again you come with him and “stop over” and then ride back with him. I think he is letting you “go to it,” at least he doesn’t write to me.
I got me a little bracelet watch last night. I need a watch more than I need my meals. You see I have to go to all the different buildings at a certain time and stay in each room “so long” and I had to have one. It is good looking, Swiss movement. Sixteen dollar watch and I got it for twelve. Can’t I save money?
This week I shall do mostly office work. I have the “cutest” and dearest office.
My old “Fostoria Beau” has traced me already. I don’t want to get tied down to any one fellow and I’m going to have hard work to get out of it.
Dearest sweetheart it is very late and I must close. With a heart full of love and devotion
Roma.
[Fostoria, Ohio, 6 PM, September 17, 1915.]
Friday noon
My dearest Fred:
I am writing this “in bed” so do not expect much. I am glad to announce that “all is well” and I want you to know as soon as possible. I have a teachers’ meeting this afternoon at three thirty and am trying to store up energy for it. I am sorry I do not look and feel especially good, because this is the first time I have appeared before my teachers. However, I will powder, wear the green, and try and smile and maybe I won’t look so bad.
I just received your letter but no parcel post. Am returning your letter at once. Thank you for letting me read it. I think it very fine, and am sure he is an exceptional man. Judging from the letter I think you two must be alike.
Love, you are an exceptional man and one whose love and friendship I am not only glad, but proud to own. While I am sure I have your love and admiration, altho parted (and it is a pleasant thot) I am distressed often to know how much I am missing. How much more full life would be to me, and how much more it would mean, to enjoy anything and everything with you.
Dear, this misfortune we have just passed thru, with your love the dark places have been made bright, and my love for you is stronger and brighter than ever before. If it were not for the beautiful, pure, holy love, my heart would be full of hate and anger. Now it is at peace and I am happy. Sweetheart, may love, peace, and happiness be yours, especially on the coming “Sabbath Day.” I would send this special, but I don’t believe you would get it any sooner.
You own sweetheart, Roma.
[September 18, 1915―presumed date]
To my precious sweetheart:
“Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.” “Verily, after clouds sunshine.” “Trouble and sorrow are indeed the wings that bear us up to and beyond the clouds.” Rejoice with me this glad Sunday. The sun seems brighter; Heaven nearer; Life sweeter; Thank God, “all is well.” Dearest Roma, these are only a few of the many thots that rushed through my mind today as I read and reread your two letters that reached me at noon. I felt sure that all would be well. It simply had to be. I am glad to know that I made a favorable impression upon the girls and I may say that I was likewise impressed with them. Miss Raynard seems to be quite observant of “the depth, width and heigth [sic] of his fondness for Miss Matteson.” I like the answers you gave to their several questions. The telephone experience coming at that moment was peculiarly amusing.
Well dearest, you seemingly followed my directions fairly well and with gratifying results. You will recall that I wrote you that I had a premonition that you would get the Fostoria job and my premonition that this would terminate satisfactorily was even much stronger. I felt more than positive. My mind was fully made up that the outcome would be alright. We are both stronger and better for this experience. I am glad, however, that it is now history. That little package of tea was mailed about two o’clock Wednesday afternoon and should have reached you Thursday sure. If it hasn’t reached you by now, let me know.
Say, I’ll just bet that after you rest Friday afternoon, donning the green and wearing your fetching smile, every one of those fifty-one teachers “fell in love” with the new music teacher at the first meeting. You pay me a high compliment when you say judging from the McCrea letter “we must be alike.” Pet, he is a mean past sixty, intelligently religious and a clever gentleman, full of Irish wit and very young in spirit and ways. I met him on my trip abroad and we toured England together. That was in 1910 and we have corresponded ever since. With the exception of yours, his letters are the choicest I receive.
Dear heart, I join you in the wish that we might be together this fall and winter to enjoy the affairs peculiar to these respective seasons. For me, I know it would be the doubling of my joys. To be permitted to contribute, even tho a little, to your pleasure would make me happy indeed. We would have entree to circles here of only the best.
The misfortune, to which you allude, has had quite a similar effect on me as you say it has had on you—hence, I must conclude that it is a blessing rather than a misfortune.
My fondness for you has a “depth, width and heigth” [sic] that has as yet been unmeasured. Sweetheart, it is more than fondness. You know what it is; for I have told you often. I felt proud of you among the girls at Mrs. Near’s. You looked so sweet at the station in your white the day I arrived. I was proud of you at the hotel and at the school, meeting your new made friends among the teachers.
Dear Roma, there are several paragraphs in your letters received during the past week, that I have purposely left unanswered; we can discuss them at our next meeting. I would require reams of paper and much time to adequately and properly make a reply. And then again, “all is well that ends well” so there is little to be gained by a lengthy discussion.
To repeat I want to see you meet with “continued success” and I feel sure that you will.
My dearest girl, to-morrow is Sunday and Second Church greets its new minister for the first time. It is Rev. Horst, the man you and I heard preach his trial sermon. I recall how pretty you looked that Sunday night. I do wish you could be here tomorrow.
Dear heart, I tried to get brown gloves to match your suit, but found nothing that was right. If you will send me the shade of yellow that you want I’ll try and get them for you. The two larger stores informed me that their winter stocks had not yet arrived; it may be that later on we can get the brown. I sent you the white 6 1/4 via tonight’s parcel post. Please let me know that they reached you.
The hour is growing late and I must hasten to the close. I’ll send this special and it should reach you about the time you are eating dessert. My wish is that you be happy and be free from doubt, fear and worry. And may your talents, rich and rare, bordering even upon genius, be so employed, that your profession shall be glorified and your pleasing personality fill with brilliant inspiration the many lives you shall touch.
I am hoping for a very early reply, and I know I’ll not be disappointed.
Lovingly yours,
Fred.
P.S.
Mr. B. asked me how the little girl was. I tried to give him the impression (without lieing [sic]) that I was in Columbus. I, therefore, have not yet delivered your message.
F.
[Fostoria, Ohio, 5 PM, September 19, 1915.]
My dearest Fred:
Dear, this is Sunday morning about nine o’clock. I hoped to be able to go to church this morning, but am afraid it would be very indiscreet. I feel so cold and chilly, so Mrs. Near has lighted the gas in the front room, and I am in the big chair with my feet on the stove as cozy as you please.
I wrote you Friday noon about my company arriving. I hope you received it on Saturday’s afternoon delivery. I wanted to send you a wire, for I wanted to lessen your worry as soon as possible. I was going to say “All’s well, that ends well.” Would you have gotten that? But I had a teachers’ meeting Friday afternoon, and tried to mail that letter so you would get it Saturday. Please let me know when you got it, so I will have some idea when you will get my mail.
Well dear, for actual suffering, I believe I put more in Friday night, all day Saturday and last night, than I have all my life put together, yet I was happy. How very fortunate that it happened so I could have Saturday and Sunday. I hugged the hot water bottle all Friday night, all day Saturday and Saturday night. Today I just feel so weak and nervous. That must be powerful medicine and cannot help but be injurious to the system. However, I have ceased to worry, have relaxed, and stayed in bed, so that when I get over this I should be strong. The only effect I fear is that played on the nervous system. What shall I do with “it,” lock it up, throw it away, or send it to you? Precious, I hope we may write “finis” to this chapter and may it never be repeated. Sometimes it takes the bitter hard things to bring out our strength, our love, and our character. This incident which has caused me genuine grief and suffering has not only strengthened my love, but proven it beyond a doubt. I have felt your love so strongly many times, and may say it has been returned, but your kisses and caresses received in the parlor of the Hotel Hays, directly after dinner, touched me as never before. I was consciously experiencing the sweetest, purest, holiest thing on earth, Love. I have been engaged, I have always had lots of gentlemen friends, but you are the first and only man I have ever loved. I care more for your little finger than any other man’s whole body that I [k]now. Yesterday when I felt so badly, it was so sweet to lie here and think of the sweet things you have said, written, and done for me. Dear, you are the essence of all that is good, sweet, kind, and manly, and I love you. Everyone here who met you, thinks you are just “grand.” I am glad of course, but that does not influence me. If you had not a friend on earth I should love you just the same.
I guess Mrs. Near is going to get a new piano, I hope so. I should like to take voice this winter but don’t know as I will have the time.
The Methodists and Presbyterians are both after me to sing in their choir. I think the Methodists feel I belong there, and as a matter of duty will lend my assistance. The Presbyterians “will pay” but “how much?” I don’t think I’ll take it for less than five. “Some class” to this girl of yours.
I had a card from Mr. B. yesterday written from Cincinnati. He said he would see me soon.
I am invited out for lunch tonight. Where you and I called and left “our” card. She called me on the telephone and asked about the man.
I received the tea yesterday, many thanks.
Dear, I love to write to you, but I love to “make love” to you better.
With my best love and wishes— Roma
Dear it is four fifteen and I am supposed to be at my place at four thirty, but I have had callers all the afternoon. I have got to get some cards right away. Tell me what to have on them, Miss Matteson, or Miss Roma B. Matteson, and what kind of lettering.
I forgot to tell you, At the teachers meeting I was given some cut flowers with the toast, Sweets to the Sweet. What do you think of that.
We had an awful rain yesterday but today is beautiful.
Lovingly – Roma
To the girl I love the best:
This morning’s mail brought me two nice letters from you—one nice fat one—the other less plump, however, both equally welcome and of course it is superfluous to say I was glad to get them. Just one week ago to-day and night I was with you, dear Roma, at this hour in the standpipe park. I enjoyed everything about the trip but the awful heat. When the thermometer climbs above 90° I suffer the tortures of the damned and you will recall that last week the temperature was near the century mark. I wish I were with you tonight, for the temperature is just right.
Last Saturday night I wrote you a letter of several pages and placed a special delivery stamp on it, expecting it to reach you soon after the noon hour Sunday, and since you have made no mention of it in your letters I conclude it failed to reach you. Please advise me whether or not it has since reached you.
Your letter received last Saturday morning apprising me of the arrival of your company and that “all is well” was most welcome. The letter was posted at Fostoria at 5 P.M. Friday and was delivered at my house Saturday morning about eleven o’clock. I have figured out that mail placed in your office not later than five P.M. will reach me the following morning, provided the commuting trains are on time.
Well, pet, I am sorry you had to endure so much suffering—yet, believe me, I did my share of suffering. Do you really think there was anything wrong? I can scarcely feel that there was. Thank God, the worry is over—and after all the worry is the thing that tells most. I am sure you will be strong and your own sweet self again. And now that you are about adjusted to your new position and environment you will get plump and prettier than ever. Throw “it” away and destroy the containers. Finis—finis—finis.
Precious, you devote a page of your letter to love and your care for me and I may say that you indulge in considerable extravagance, however, I appreciate all you say though it has tendency to make me feel proud, but upon self examination I find myself submerged in deep humility. As for my fondness and affection for you, it seems to me I have poured myself out to you so many times and in so many ways that the proof is positively manifest. The evidence is both circumstantial and positive. “If ever I loved you, my Roma it is now.” It is comforting to me to hear you say that when you were indisposed and lay abed that the memory and reflection of things I had said, written and done were sweet and pleasant to you.
It is also gratifying to know that the impression I made on your friends was favorable.
I am so glad to know that you will have a piana in your new “home.” Me for music. If you feel that you have the time and strength take voice this winter; but do not overtax your strength. I know my girl is “some class.” As to deciding on the choir affiliation, I must leave that to you, for I do not know the local conditions. It might be well to “pass it up” for the present.
That tea can be used anytime, keep it for future use. Judge Kimble’s Bible class gives a banquet Friday evening Oct 1st. Mr. Bower, Mr. Watson and myself are on the Com.
As to the calling cards, if you are the only Miss in your family, then Miss Matteson would be proper, however, if you have unmarried sisters, especially older ones, then it would be proper to use the Miss Roma B. Matteson or better Miss Roma Belle Matteson. At the time the script style of letter seems to be “right.” I also like the plain block letter and the Old English.
I am sending you with this mail another dose of papers. “There’s a reason” See the blue marked spots. In the special I sent you Saturday night was a cake of white sugar, its whiteness and its sweetness symbolic of you, dearest Roma. That same letter contained an explanation about the gloves.
As to when I shall see you again, I cannot say at this date. I should like to see you right now, thereby keeping that date with that someone you wrote about.
As to “women proposing” that has always been considered a man’s job to propose, however, if women progress as much and as fast in the near future as they have in the recent past, man will no longer claim that prerogative for himself. In its last analysis it never was fair. But why should we give a ( )?
I am so glad that you like your work and that you have been so well received. Dearest, let me “interject at this juncture” don’t be seen too often going to picture shows and be exceedingly temperate in your auto riding. You are new and in a small town. You must uphold your dignity and preserve and guard your reputation and also maintain your prestige. I deem this of highest importance. I hope you can follow this.
I am enclosing a letter written by the vocal teacher at Baldwin Wallace College, concerning my niece Helen Marting, who visited us during the summer. It is she whom I wanted you to meet. She graduated at Central High in Detroit last June. She is a fine girl and I am proud of her. Kindly return the letter. It was sent to Helen’s mother, my sister living in Detroit.
Dear heart, the hour, as usual, is late, and I must close with “Sweets to the sweet” and all my love.
With deepest affection,
Fred.
QBA 
I don’t think you induce an abortion but rather a miscarriage. Sheri
>
LikeLike
Thanks for this. I’ll fix it.
LikeLike