Lancaster, Ohio
Jan, 1st, 1849
[1849/01/01]
[WTS]
My love and a happy New Year to you, dearest Cumpy. You are not now in such complete banishment as you have hitherto been and probably before you receive this letter you will be in the company of some of the good people from our town. First among the gold diggers start out Boyle, Hampton, Denman and Sam Stambaugh. They will leave some time next week and if all things prosper with them they will be in California within three months at the very furthest. They expect to be there in less time. I think Patterson Effinger is going out with them. There are a number of persons going and companies will leave here at different times. I have been gathering up some such presents as I suppose might be useful to you and for fear of having all lost I shall send by each one who goes out. More than a year ago -- nearly two years ago I knit a purse for you and put it away but the ladies kept on improving so much in their patterns that mine fell by degrees into the shade and I made use of it myself determining to make you another -- I will send it by the next set -- also a pair of slippers which I am making for you -- I will have them made up -- I suppose you too will get to digging gold after while but you can't live upon gold when there is nothing to be purchased. You officers must have quite a serious time but you cannot certainly be suffered to remain in your present condition long. Your letters to Phil, Dr. Edwards and etc. have been circulated in the papers and all rely, about these parts, upon your testimony. Father thinks the expedition a fine one and says that were he a young man he would soon be out there. I rejoice to think that you will soon have the satisfaction of seeing familiar faces and hearing directly from home. I feel that you are not so far away now that communication will be so constant. I beleive I will make you some shirts and send by the next company. Boyle thought of going only ten days ago and the whole family have been as busy as bees getting him and Hampton ready. I am able to do but little and even writing is so tiresome to me that I have dropped several of my correspondants whom I valued highly. The rest of the family are well. Father and Thomas are in Washington, where they will remain until the middle of March. Tom is as tall as you and as good a boy as ever was seen. He was very anxious to go to California but owing to his possessing a delicate constitution and being rather young to endure any hardships or exposure Father would not hear to his going. He was however perfectly willing that Boyle should go out, for he is very healthy and hardy and is also fond of adventure. You will be surprised when you see them, I know -- Stambaugh promises to return in a year -- but the more gold men get the more they want and I should not be surprised were he to out stay his time by at least a year. Susan gave her consent but I presume she sheds many a tear at the prospect of so long a seperation. I have not told you and lament to have to tell of the death of dear Pop Boyle. He was sensible to the last moment and willing to go -- and died as gently and calmly as if he was falling into a slumber. O, I trust soon to be in a better home with him where there will be no more separations. And I must meet you there, my dearest Cumpy, and through an eternity we will be happy. I was a little apprehensive that you were sick when you told me you were in a family in Monterey. Always be particular in saying that you are well for I am anxious about your health. My poor miserable neck is now getting worse after having been so much better. It has not been well one day since you left. I have no hopes of recovering but I presume I may live some years -yet sometimes I think my end is rapidly approaching -- But I always talk too much of myself -- I shall write in a few days, by the boys -- and therefore I make this letter short [illegible] I got this small paper so that I should be obliged to make all my letters short for writing injures me so much that I ought not in conscience to indulge in it too long at a time. Hoping to hear from you soon and often, beleive me dearest Cumpy, Yours most affectionately,
Ellen B. Ewing
[EES]
Lancaster, Ohio;
Jan. 19th, 1849
[1849/01/19]
[WTS]
I wrote to you on the first day of this month, dearest Cumpy, and dated my letter Jan '48 making it one year old -- what age it will have arrived at by the time it reaches you it would be difficult to tell -- It will be quite a venerable letter, though a small one -- 'little but ould'. Boyle, Hampton and Stambaugh are all ready for California and have been waiting furthur orders and instructions from Father. I am busily engaged working a pair of slippers to send you by them. I think they will be very pretty; I have chosen delicate colours because you will not be much abouta-fire-to soil them. If I have time and our shoe makers will promise not to soil them I shall have made them up as you have some shoes here from which they can measure. I shall send some other little presents which I hope will be of use to you and which you must consider as so many evidences of my affection for you, Cumpy. The most trifling gift I send bears with it my love, prayers and hopes for you. I have had a correct but not flattering likeness taken which I have thought of sending you -- and then I think that as I am not so young and pretty as I might be and withal am fully persuaded that I shall never have health sufficient to justify me in becoming your wife, that you may perhaps not care about having it now, but would prefer looking upon some bright-eyed original near you -- Be it so. Mine will be to you still the likeness of a Sister, than whom no one could cherish for you a truer affection----Time instead of releiving me has only proved the stern nature of the disease which afflicts me. It has also fully proved to me the folly of marriage in my case and induces me to resolve [illegible] and earnestly to avoid the station for which I am rendered incapable and thus to avoid the transmission of the worst of all the ills which we inherit----disease- Am I not sensible? Am I not reasonable? Am I not just? You would afterwards reproach me with a want of all these qualities did I not thus betray them now. But I shall send my miniature and trust to your preserving it and your affection for me as I have preserved yours and my love for you. Thomas, who has been in Washington and is now spending a week in Philadelphia with Father, writes me that he is staying at Mrs. Reese's, that they are all well and that Susan and Mr. Bartlay had just left there for Washington. He gives me the account, which you gave Mrs Reese of your clothing etc. -- You do not know how anxious it makes me to be able to send you a full supply. I shall send as much as the boys will be able to take with them, but that I fear will be very little for they are anxious to make their baggage as light as possible. I presume Mrs. Reese has already sent out a supply purchased with the money you sent. If I mistake not there are some new articles of clothing in your boxes -- I shall examine them before the boys leave -- I wish they could take you some books. You must desire some although you never complain of the want of them. Tom called at the War Department (at whose suggestion I do not know) to petition for a furlough for you -- Gen. James politely declined granting at present but said that the Regiment would be releived within the year. I was truly delighted to hear it for you must be tired enough of your present situation. Do not suffer the gold to detain too long away -- Remember you have already been gone two years and a half. Gen. James also said that you were a great favorite of his. Father will remain in Washington until the middle of March, consequently Tom will witness the Inauguration of Gen. Taylor -- Tom is exceedingly anxious to go to California but as he is too young and not sufficiently hardy for such an enterprise Father will not consent to his going. There are a number of people going out in the Spring. Some of the ladies go with their husbands, I understand. Boyle says that Stambaugh intends sending for his wife in a year. Jesse Haet is going.
If you have received my last letter you have already heard of the affliction with which we have been visited in the death of dear Pop. He died calmly and without a struggle and I pray that he is now awaiting us in the bright home which our Saviour has purchased for us all. That we may all meet there and be happy together throughout eternity is, dearest Cumpy, the earnest prayer of your most affectionate,
Ellen B. Ewing
[EES]
Lancaster, Ohio:
Feb. 5th, 1849 Monday morning-
[1849/02/05]
Dearest Cumpy;
[WTS]
Boyle, Hampton, Stambaugh and two or three others leave in the morning for California and you may be sure every moment of our time is fully occupied with preparations for the journey and stay and with the thoughts of the perils to which they will be exposed by land and sea -- from the climate -- from the cholera -- from exposure -- from carelessness -- and from bad men. But above all the fears, rises the firm and consoling hope that God will protect them amidst all dangers and keep them free from vice and sin so that if death should overtake them in a foreign land they may find it but the entrance into life. And what are my hopes for you, dear Cumpy? All these and my prayers are for you daily. I am thankful that you have escaped so far and I hope that you will continue fortunate. I feel delighted to think that any one from home is so soon to be with you. I know that it will be a gratification to you and I know too that Boyle will find in you as true and kind a friend as man ever had. Hampton is a fine young man and has always been a particular favorite of mine and for Stambaugh I have a great regard on account of the care and attention with which he waited on dear Pa Boyle. Jesse Haet you know to be too much of a rascal to be trusted. I have told you in my last two letters that Father and Tom are in Washington. They are making every effort to obtain a furlough for you -- what induced Father I do not know -- whether you mentioned the subject in a letter to any of your friends, whether you wrote to Father or whether he merely takes it for granted that you will be glad to have one. I will send you Tom's last letter to me in which he speaks of it. From it I infer that what is equal to a furlough will be sent to you immediately and then you will have time to dig gold and come home too. How glad I will be to see you once more! It seemed to me that we were never to meet again and perhaps we may not. I do not reckon upon life longer than six weeks in advance. The boys will tell you that I am well perhaps -- because they think every one is well who is not confined to bed and because healthy strong men cannot realize what a weak diseased person endures -- I am not well -- nor improving -- I do not hope ever to be able to make a wife -- therefore my dear Cumpy if you think that any of the girls of that country capable of making a companion for you do not let a thought of me prevent your marrying. I have always thought you ought to have a woman much my superior -- handsome, of sprightly mind and character and withal of fine principles and strong affections. If the ladies of California are naturally fine women, as you tell me they are and if they are handsome, you might marry a young girl and cultivate her mind and mould her character to suit you after marriage -- I should give her a hearty, earnest and most affectionate welcome home if you were to bring one -- I hope you are comfortably situated now. I have taken from your boxes at the office a good coat, a pr. of black cloth pantaloons, three pr. of drawers new, and two white round-abouts and two pr. of cotton socks to which I have added some more socks, three silk handkerchiefs, several cakes of fine soap, a good tooth-brush and a black silk cravat. I have done up a watch-guard with a neat gold catch which I shall entrust to Stambaugh lest the other things should get lost. I worked a pair of slippers which were very pretty when I took them to the shoe-maker but which I fear will be spoiled in making. I shall send them at all events in Boyle's carpet-bag so that in case the carpet-bag containing your things should be lost you will at least get the slippers. Charley gave me all the money he had, when I went down street this morning for the soap etc. and told me to get him a present to send to Cumpy -- I got a little pocket ink-stand which I shall fill with ink although I hope you are well provided. Also I have done in a small bag needles, threads, buttons, thimble, scissors and etc. -- which will be acceptable to you I presume -- I will put them in your carpet-bag. I should have had a number of shirts made to send but Tom wrote me that Mrs. Reese had already sent at your request. If there be any thing you want that we have not sent let us know -- many persons are still going out. But I hope to see you before you can need much. All send love. Write to me often and beleive me, dearest Cumpy, with Sincerest affection,
Ellen Ewing
[EES]
I had a leather belt made for you such as the boys have and Charley begs me to send it in his name -- I promised him I would do so. Lewis, Henry, Dittoe and John McGloughlin who go in the boys company are excellent young men and I hope they will do well.
Good bye Ellen
Washington D. C.
May 19th 1849
[1849/05/19]
My dearest Cumpy;
[WTS]
I have almost despaired of hearing from you again and I am now induced to reproach you, who heretofore have been so kind, so prompt, so generous in thought and action, with some neglect or harsh conduct. Mrs. Reese enclosed a letter that she received from you, Several months after I received my last and I was sadly greived to find that you were so despondant and I was also greived to find that you would suffer, deliberately suffer an opportunity to pass without writing to me. To tell you how much sorrow that incident conveyed to my heart, would be to make you aware how truly and thoroughly a woman loves and that were impossible. I sincerely hope you may never be so unkind to me again. Nothing could induce me to treat you in that manner. I must and will, under any circumstances treat you as one, whom I love, whom I have loved from my childhood, and from you, under any circumstances do I look for a like affectionate treatment. If you be resolved not to give it, if you are determined still to withhold it -- each recurrence of the opportunity without the act of kindness will bring to me a fresh disappointment. Sorrows of all kind are our portion here -- Our blessed Savior drank to the dregs the bitter cup and we may expect to share His trials if we wish to share His reward. I must not hope to be exempt from suffering and I am ungrateful to complain -- Let me think of other things and forget that you have treated me unkindly. Thomas has doubtless called at the War Department before this. Father told him this morning to call with regard to obtaining a furlough for you. Father and other of your friends made every exertion last winter to get a furlough for you, but I beleive with only partial success. I presume, and I think I am not hoping without good reason, that Father has some promise, in your favour from the officers, in command, whoever they may be -- This letter is to send by a messenger who goes out from the Post Office Department. Father told me, and I do pray that he may be the bearer of glad tidings to you my dearest Cumpy. It is really too hard that you have been kept out there so long -- it is now nearly three years since you left home. I hope the boys are in California by this time; if they are ever to get through the journey they must be there by the time this letter reaches you -- as they left home on the 6th of February and spent but a few days in Cincinnati and New Orleans. We have not heard from them since they began their overland journey through Mexico. They were all well then and Boyle wrote in fine spirits. I sent some little articles of clothing by them to you which I will imagine for my own comfort, you are now using and finding pleasant. Mrs. Reese had just sent out a lot of clothing or I should have made many additions to my package. I shall have you a handsome pair of slippers by the time you get home. I worked a pair for Boyle, which I sent him by Mr. Anderson, a Dominican Father, who has gone out for California. I hope both pairs will fit and please. You probably have everything in abundance out there now, and I knew you would, but yet I thought it would give you pleasure to receive the other articles, as it certainly gave me pleasure to put them up. I was anxious to send you some books, but the party wished to be as little encumbered as possible with baggage. I know that if you can be where Boyle is, that you will be a kind brother to him. I hope that you will be kind too, to Hampton Denman -- he was always a favorite of mine. I would recommend John McGloughlin and Louis Henry Dittoe to your kind attention. Stambaugh as well as all the rest, trusted much to your instructions etc. and Hampton was very anxious to carry my letters to you supposing that he would thus gain your good will. I presume he judged by the affect which your letters have upon me. You are probably aware that the last letter I have received from you was written in August of last year. I should not have supposed for one moment that it was the last you had written me had I not seen your letter written since to Mrs. Reese. I wrote to her and to your Mother to know if they had any news from you. Supposing that my letters might have miscarried and theirs not. But I'll talk of something else. You perceive that we are in Washington and you doubtless knew that it is to be our home for the next four years -- We left Lancaster, our good old home, with many regrets, but now that dear Pap is no longer living in this world, there was no real solid objection to our coming and we packed up our goods and started as soon as Father bid us come. Converse Goddard is cheif clerk in Father's Department and Sarah came in with us. We had fine weather for our journey and we all enjoyed it. We left Philemon and Mary keeping house in John Garaghty's house, and Slade in possession of our house and premises. Philemon thought that our house would be too large for him and although Father wished him to keep it he preferred a smaller one but he already throws out some hints about taking the old house again when Slade's year expires. Mary makes Phil a good wife and he seems quite happy as a married man. He has not been in very good health for two years past and he usually looks very thin and sallow. We have been here nearly three weeks and we have just got into our house. I think we will live quite pleasantly when we are once fairly fixed. Charley and Sissy both go to school and when Father and Tom are off attending to business the house is lonely, I assure you. Phil has been my companion so long -- seven years -- that I miss him greatly. I miss Boyle and Hampton and I miss my letters from you. I have many correspondants at home -- Philemon, & Mary, Eliza, Gillespie, Anna Denman, Father Young, Abby and many others. I find quite a number of old school mates living here or in the neighborhood and among them one or two particular friends. I now find them most agreeable companions and were it not for them I should already have suffered from a serious attack of Mal-du-pays. As it is I have so far been quite content; Tom says I do nothing but ride over to the Academy, but I find time to play at battle [illegible] with him, and I indulged in the amusement to so extravagant an extent yesterday that I took a severe cold, which has made my muscles so sore and stiff that I can scarcely move hand or foot without pain and am moreover as stiff as an old woman of ninety years. I was careful too, after my game. I put on a shawl and shut myself up in my room with the windows all closed until I cooled off. When I was leaving home Dr. Boerstler gave me a letter, stating the history of my case, which he wished delivered to Professor Power of Baltimore. Father sent the letter over and as soon as we heard from the Doctor, Thomas took me over to see him. I was much pleased with his appearance and manners and I have some hope that he may greatly benefit -- I did not ask him if he could cure me -- and he did not say, he merely said that he thought a fair trial of the treatment he ordered would be followed by happy results. He examined my lungs thoroughly and he says positively that they are at present pure and free from disease. however liable they may be to become the seat of my disease. He directed the daily use of cold bath (I have used it for a year or two, but not with sufficient regularity) an abundance of good solid food, with no distinction but that of Pork and daily exercise in the open air. All these directions to be religiously observed and Cod Liver Oil and Iodide Iron to be taken three times a day. For my neck, which is now the seat of three ugly ulcers he gave me a nice dressing. His powder and ointment, with the frequent washings and dressings have already improved the old sore, which was gathering when you left and broke the following October. Theother two sores I cannot hope to see improving for some time yet. My ear and cheek are involved in the old and largest sore. I hope you, dear Cumpy, are free from the particular ill of humanity that I have fallen heir to -- ill health -- Do not expose your health. After religion it is the only well spring of happiness left us -- May God bestow his choicest blessings upon you and may you soon return to your friends and your home.
Ellen B. Ewing
[EES]
I had your book case removed from my roon to the office the day before we left home and the key I gave to Phil -- I intended having your pictures hung in my room, as soon as they can be arranged.
Washington D. C.
May 22nd, 1849
[1849/05/22]
Dearest Cumpy;
[WTS]
There is a letter now at the Department, which I wrote to you one Saturday and which Father will send to-day but as I have heard from you since then I cannot put off acknowleding your letter until another opportunity. And I write today with very different feelings, I assure you -- I had been feeling so very sad on your account for I had not heard from you since the letter to Mrs. Reese was sent me, and it was written in such low spirits that I should have preferred not to have to have heard at all. Since the receipt of your letter of the 5th of March, which gave me assurances of your continued attachment to me and consoled me with the beleif that you were not miserable in your present situation, I feel like a different person. I feel delighted at the prospect of your speedy return. Your lot has been a hard one out there certainly and I think it shameful that you are not releived. Father has done what was in his power to obtain a furlough for you or advance your prospects for one, but I am sorry to find with only partial success. Yet I hope that you will soon be released, before this letter reaches you even. What an outrage that your letters should be destroyed -- everything seems to have conspired to render your situation as lonely and unpleasant as possible -- you might have been assured that I had written -- were I living and therefore I can but think that I might have heard from you more frequently than I did. You evidently wrote no letter to me when you wrote that despondent letter to Mrs. Reese. But I am too happy now at hearing from you to be willing to quarrel with you about anything. If you can only come home with Col. Mason! But I shall not prepare myself for a disappointment by expecting and yet I shall entertain some hope if but little. You will doubtless be pleased to find us in Washington as you have had rather a poor opinion of Lancaster, for some time past. We left home with many regrets, but we are determined to be happy as may be here. I am truly, heartily glad that you at last received a budget of letters -- those from me, were poor affairs -- the truth is -- I was so weak all winter as to be unable to write with any comfort and now, although I am very much stronger I dare not to write very long at a time. I had supposed from various symptoms that my lungs were affected, but as I told you Dr. Power declares them to be pure and free from disease. He told what I was fully aware of before, that they were liable to become the seat of my disease, therefore great care should be taken. Since I consulted the Dr. I have faithfully observed all his directions, without any omissions and I really think that I am somewhat improved already. I hope you are well -- take the best care of yourself. The boys I hope are with you by this time -- they have had a tedious journey. Were you aware that your information with regard to the gold would produce such a prodigious excitement and wonderful emigration? You must have been surprised to have seen Boyle. I trust you may all escape the cholera -- I cannot entirely avoid uneasy apprehensions with regard to the disease among you out there -- but here where we have remedies at hand and every preventive I feel no fear for friends -- For myself I fear death from no disease, but from an accidental death I pray to be mercifully delivered -- The health of the family is good. Father is exceedingly well and health and spirits. He likes Washington I think. But I do not know as yet how we shall like it. At the funeral of Daniel Duncan, a member of Congress from Ohio, I saw today for the first time our good President -- General Taylor -- I am very much pleased with his appearance -- he looks hale and hearty, sensible and pleasant -- he looks as if he might yet live half a century. We have made no visits yet -- not even called at the President's -- although we have been here three weeks. We have just got into our own house. I shall not describe it for you must see it yourself. There is only one objection to it and that is that the bedrooms are all in the third story. But the rooms are all large and well ventilated and on the whole I think we are pleasantly situated. You did not say whether you had heard of the marriage of Phil and Mary Gillespie or of the death of dear Pop Boyle but I take it for granted you did if you received but one half our letters. Your letter to me was quite breif and hastily written, but it was consoling, my dear Cumpy, and I hope to receive such letters from you until we have the happiness of meeting again. We receives the melancholy intelligence this morning of the death of poor Susan Irwin. She died of the dreadful disease that has swept off the family -- until three days before we left she was with us -- she died at Mr[?]s. Cox's. Her Uncle David, her brother John and the little Wolfleys were with her and she received the kindest and most assidious attentions of Eliza Gillespie, Anna Denman and other friends. William is in Texas. All your friends were well some few weeks since, when I heard from your Mother -- Let me hear from you often and see you soon --
With most sincere affection,
Ellen B. Ewing
[EES]
Lancaster, Ohio;
June 8, 1853
[1853/06/08]
[WTS]
I received tonight, my beloved husband, your beautiful present to Minnie -- it exceeds anything of the kind I have ever seen. There was the smallest break in it -- near the upper part in that fine work; it does not spoil the effect nor is it very perceptible but yet it is there and I regret that anything so perfect should have been injured. I opened it with perfect care and the piece that was broken out was crumbled into the smallest particles. On Sunday -- the 4th I received a polite note from Capt. Shiras enclosing the express receipt and this evening the box got here. Poor Minnie was delighted to see it and to know that her own "Papa" sent it but of course she cd not handle it and she seemed to know herself that it wd not do. I shall write a reply to Capt. Shiras to-night. I am disappointed at not hearing from you by this time again -- my last being of the 29 of April and received last Saturday week. The mails are not very regular. I see no notice of once since that. Last evening I was much pleased to receive a long and kind letter from Mrs. Turner. Her family were all in fine health but you hear from them through Maj. Turner. Present my kindest regards to him. I am on the eve of my Mansfield visit. Kate is ready and is on tip toe to start but I am anxious to hear again from you before I go and may defer until Monday -- this is Wednesday. Fanny has written me lately and they are expecting us up there -- how I shall miss your good Mother. I wish to get back, in time to attend the Exhibition at St. Joseph's to hear Charley distinguish himself as an orator. Tom will be out soon and so he does not write. We have a surprise for them all when they do get home -- an addition to the home, which is now under roof and will be occupied the latter part of July. It gives us three new chambers -- one below and two above -- and it improves those that front on the porch in the present building. Father has purchased a handsome poney for Sis, and I think I shall learn to ride. By Fall Minnie might learn sd we be here and then we shall not betossed about crossing the Isthmus on mules. Dr. Effinger has two children -- the oldest a girl, the other a boy just Minnie's age, who is now very ill -- it has been very low for ten days and they have no hope of its recovery. The Roko[?]hls are visiting at their Uncle Joe's and this must make their time pass rather heavily. They however expect to remain a long time and will enjoy themselves more after their visitors who are expected come to the town. Ellen Cox, Susie Stanbery, Josephine Bond, and many others -- When Helen Hunter, Sis and Fanny [illegible] [illegible] will be here. Minnie is growing very tall and she is strong as ever. Lizzie is in short dresses and sits alone. She eats a slice of bread and butter with a wonderful relish altho she has not a tooth. She prefers it to the breast or to milk. Catherine is a fine nurse and thus far we get along well together -- the children being attached to her -- occasionally Minnie says she is a bad girl and the man shall have her. When I was reproving Miss Minnie the other day she put on quite an air of defiance and said she wd "tell Grandma on Mama pretty soon". She writes you very often every day indeed but owing to the irregularity of the mails, I presume, you do not get her letters. She sits up with her sewing, a box, a bonafide needle between her fingers and wearing a thimble that fits her fingers and as closely as possible she mimics me -- looking up from her work to see to something -- singing while she sews and throwing down her work to run to Lizzie. Enough of them for this week. Believe me, dearest, with many hopes and fears
Yours truly affectionate,
Ellen
[EES]
I have thought all day and all the evening of our last few weeks together and our sudden seperation so unexpected to me. A paper Mr. Furner sent me contains a letter from a Mr. Crocket to the Intelligence and he gives a full account of your adventures on the S. S. Lewis and on the Schooner.
Mansfield, Ohio;
June 23, 1853
[1853/06/23]
My dearest husband;
[WTS]
I have already written you from here and this is rather an early date for the Steamer of the 28th but I start home tomorrow and if I defer writing my letter may be too late. I was surprised and delighted to receive since here your letter of the 11th of May written at Marysville. I am glad that you have left San Francisco for it makes me unhappy to think that you are ever exposed to a climate so highly predjudicial to your health, I trust you will keep your resolve never to stay there no matter what the inducement may be. But my stronger hope is now, that you will leave that Country entirely never again to be lured thither by promises of wealth or even by a certain prospect of gaining it. You do me justice in beleiving that I will cheerfully submit to any course you may determine upon, provided we are not to be seperated for years, yet you will not forget to take into account the trial it would be for me to leave my parents, now growing old, with a certainity of not seeing them again for years and a probability of never meeting them again in this world. So if there need anything to incline the balance to either side let this bring you home. But before this reaches you the decision will have been made and beyond any influence of mine. I sd not be surprised to hear by telegraph any day that you are in N. Orleans. We will join you there when you say so. When I get home I shall say to Father what you think I had better about your affairs. But it is scarcely necessary as I know he has very confidence in yr. judgement and coolness of decision. I told you that I had a namesake in Phil's family -- now ten days old. Captain Pearse of the "Tecumsei" has been here for several days past in a visit to Fanny but whether he came as a serious lover and whether she will take him I have not been able to determine yet. Judge Parker does not present the shabby appearance he did last Summer coat, hat, and shoes wear the highest polish and his figure trim and neat. He is to marry a very fine widow lady of suitable age whom all the family like -- her name is Eadly. Taylor is expected home today and I asked Henry to ask him to come out tonight to see me. Eliza is still at Granville and improving some -- her children are well. I have been twice to see them. Mr. Bartlay is in feeble health and at present he is very sick. Sarah Camp came down yesterday from Sandusky to make me go up there to visit her but it is so troublesome going about with children that I must get home. Elizabeth is here this week, having come down on Monday with Rob McComb who went up for her. This is a great place for cars -- between the Pittsburgh and the Sandusky road they keep up a constant hissing and yelling, enough to frighten a quiet body into the belief that Satan was let loose and running wild and mad through the country. Lizzie has just got her first toothbut does not need it to eat bread and butter, having learned how to relish that sometime ago. We have had an abundance of strawberries (the cars just now gave me a start) and Minnie's appetite has been fully satisfied. The girls have spoiled Minnie for me -- even worse than mother ever did. She often goes to Julia with the complaint that Mama is "a bad girl". Lizzie sits up in the horse collar on the floor and nothing makes her happier than to see the boys playing about her. On Saturday we all attended a show at the Barn -- where we were seated in the Carriage sleigh and wagon. Performances were highly amusing. All desires love to you -- ever your most affectionate
Ellen
[EES]
Excuse the blots. This was my last sheet of paper and was blotted before I began to write.