007. Virginia to Stanna -- [Unknown month] 29, 1864

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    Springville Thursday 29th/64 I beg pardon, my dearest Stanna, for having allowed your last letter to have remained so long unanswered. [Over/Ever?] and often have I felt the desire to have a long talk with you--and about so many things. But, somehow or other, it is not so easy to write as to talk over matters--I almost think, after all, writing is but a poor substitute for seeing, being with those we love very dearly, and wish to communicate very [unreservedly?] with. But, I attribute this very much to my dullness, perhaps. For really, it does seem to me sometimes, that my mind ever weak and uncultivated, has gone quite to waste. I can hardly think speak or write intelligently. And I, even now, at this time, feel, perhaps more than ever, the, want of intellectual improvement. [Now?], I do not mean as a matter of pride, but as the means which the Almighty has given us for sober, rational enjoyment. To be happy in [illegible]--and to contribute to the happiness of those around us. Well, my dear Stanna, I am glad you are so comfortably fixed for the war as you seem to be at present. And with regard to schools for the children Mimmy and [illegible]--to have Mr. Miles is indeed a privilege. How I do wish our poor boys particularly Allard could enjoy such a benefit--the school here is a poor one. I don't see how he is to continue there. But here we are fixed for the war I fear. Indeed [M?] is at present impracticable. Thank you for yr kind offer, but, really Stanna, even I could so impose upon yr kindness. I don't know how we could spare him from among us. I don't think Mr. Belin could do without him. it might affect him seriously. But I think he will have to see what he can do here for him--it is his [one?] certainly--I don't think [Tare's?] proposition a bad one. He must see about it--we are in an off and of the world here, where there are no educational advantages of any sort. The fact is we are heartily tired of it, but where, how can we go elsewhere? We must await God's time. I'm sure our move here was providential. We had no option. And our leaving it, must be so. Oh, for the happy time to arrive! But, the war--when will it cease! I am not all sanguine. How do you feel about it?[End Page 1] But I am sure, that in this, as in all other events of life, you submit your will to God's, and wait patiently and resignedly until He shall see fit to bring about our deliverance. Yes this is the right spirit. This is what we ought all to feel. But, oh, it is hard! Grace must abound to produce such a result. You have heard of the death of Mr. Henning. Oh, how very heart-rending to his poor family! So very sudden. He was taken sick Saturday, and died Wednesday! Congestion of the lungs. Mrs. Smith said that his sufferings were dreadful--every breath he drew with a scream of agony--until just before he died, when he seemed easy. his mind also wandered much during his illness--Oh, what a sudden fall his was! I really don't know whether he was a religious man or not. I hope so--a highly moral, upright, honorable man he was, and a loss to the community in which lived. But, his poor bereaved family--what a loss to them. And then as to their support--I'm afraid they will miss his salary very much, particularly in these hard, trying times--away from their home. Poor Miss Martha too. What a sad loss to her--she has been suffering with her eyes--much inflamed. Suppose, dear Stanna, you were to write her? I'm sure it would be gratifying [illegible] to her. I'm sure she would appreciate it. I am so sorry you have to lose [Tare?]. You'll miss her so very much--I certainly shall be very glad to see her, but I'm sorry to take her from you. I do hope she may be able to arrange her affairs, so as, to make her feel easier in mind than she does now. How glad I shall be to hear particularly of you through her. Oh, My dearest Stanna, when shall I ever be going to see you? When can I look forward to such a happiness? Now I'm afraid. Really, Stanna, do you remark what a great number of deaths have occurred since the war? You saw the death of your old friend Mrs. Boone I suppose? On her way to England, she never saw her sons again. I wonder, by the bye, where they are now since the war scarcely at the [birth?]. I hope you did not suffer in the last cold spell--I took a [illegible]--Do you think yr health is decidedly stronger, and do you ever have your old attacks now? And how are you getting on in domestic matters? More[End Page 2] comfortable than of yore I hope? How I wish we were near enough to compare notes and comfort each other under them--I'm sure you could often console and quiet my perturbed spirit--though I'm afraid I could not do much for you, except to give you my sympathy indeed--Return. I had to leave you just now to see our good neighbor, Mrs. Charles--I was so sorry though to lose the daylight for now I am writing to firelight. Oh, Stanna, if we could meet, how much and how [varied?] that we should have to talk over! The Past, the Present and the Future! The Past sad--the present uncomfortable and unsatisfying--and the future, perhaps, alas, miserably gloomy and unhappy! [Tare?] mentioned that Mr. Keith's health was quite bad. Don't you think it a risk for him to be alone in his uncertain state? Do you ever think of paralysis and dread it? I to be sure, have had a dreadful experience--I hope you are cheered by hearing frequently from Willis? How much you must have felt when he last left you. I almost think the pain of parting is greater than the pleasure of meeting for it is really only meeting to part again. And, therefore, even when in the enjoyment of the one, you have in anticipation the pain of the other--But so it must be--and so it is with all human things. Oh, it sometimes seems harsh to us, never to have unalloyed good meted out to us in this world!--We think and feel why should every bright anticipation bring disappointment, every joy be mingled with sorrow? Why can t we have at lease some things to enjoy wholly even in this world? But this we know is not God s dealing with us. And we know that He is very pitiful and of tender mercy. And though all must be right even as it is--I don t suppose you feel so uneasy about John now, as Charleston seems safe. I wonder if the siege is over, we hardly know what to expect. Do you see Lucy often? And do you like the Dr as well? You see Sarah more frequently now do you not? Do you walk out much? You still have Mr. Elliott in yr church--fortunate to have such a one.[End Page 3] In many respects you are much better situated than ourselves--We have no Episcopal Church here. The nearest Churches in the village--so inconveniently far. Indeed sometimes I do feel most discontented with my lot and all my surroundings. And wish Oh, how I wish, I was elsewhere--I feel perfectly heart sick of the war, which seems to me, so far as the [illegible] has gone, to have involved us only in perplexity, and trouble of all and every sort--Oh, if I could fly away, and be at last in some far off corner of the world in a quiet happy comfortable home be it ever so humble! You see, Dearest Stanna, I cannot feel reconciled to giving up all hope of happiness in this world. I will cling to it, and look at it, and expect it, what verily it cannot give--happiness--Would that I could realize this truth, and turn from it as from a broken cistern a cistern that will hold no water--So, my dearest Stanna, write me when you can, a sweet long letter telling me all you think and feel. And tell me too all your household doings. How do you spend yr evenings? Are you fortunate enough to have candles? Don t you long for bright, blazing, gaslights? I have some I am keeping for warm weather--so now we enjoy bright fires only--makes me anxious for the continuance of cool weather--and besides the summer is always so tediously long--I like winter much better I think. I m sorry it s over--Well, I must bring my letter to a close. I shall look out anxiously for an answer, but write only when it suits you. I know how you are situated--So Susan & Anna are to visit you? Poor Magdaline! You ll miss her--I assume you, dearest Stanna, you are not loved any the less by any of us, though we have nt seen you for so very long--Mr. B is very fond of you and does truly desire to be near you again--He would send his love--[illegible] & [illegible] send theirs--do give mine to all particularly Mr. Keith--and [believe?] me Why doesn t Rye write? Your truly affec Virginia[End Page 4]
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    Springville Thursday 29th/64 I beg pardon, my dearest Stanna, for having allowed your last letter to have remained so long unanswered. [Over/Ever?] and often have I felt the desire to have a long talk with you--and about so many things. But, somehow or other, it is not so easy to write as to talk over matters--I almost think, after all, writing is but a poor substitute for seeing, being with those we love very dearly, and wish to communicate very [unreservedly?] with. But, I attribute this very much to my dullness, perhaps. For really, it does seem to me sometimes, that my mind ever weak and uncultivated, has gone quite to waste. I can hardly think speak or write intelligently. And I, even now, at this time, feel, perhaps more than ever, the, want of intellectual improvement. [Now?], I do not mean as a matter of pride, but as the means which the Almighty has given us for sober, rational enjoyment. To be happy in [illegible]--and to contribute to the happiness of those around us. Well, my dear Stanna, I am glad you are so comfortably fixed for the war as you seem to be at present. And with regard to schools for the children Mimmy and [illegible]--to have Mr. Miles is indeed a privilege. How I do wish our poor boys particularly Allard could enjoy such a benefit--the school here is a poor one. I don't see how he is to continue there. But here we are fixed for the war I fear. Indeed [M?] is at present impracticable. Thank you for yr kind offer, but, really Stanna, even I could so impose upon yr kindness. I don't know how we could spare him from among us. I don't think Mr. Belin could do without him. it might affect him seriously. But I think he will have to see what he can do here for him--it is his [one?] certainly--I don't think [Tare's?] proposition a bad one. He must see about it--we are in an off and of the world here, where there are no educational advantages of any sort. The fact is we are heartily tired of it, but where, how can we go elsewhere? We must await God's time. I'm sure our move here was providential. We had no option. And our leaving it, must be so. Oh, for the happy time to arrive! But, the war--when will it cease! I am not all sanguine. How do you feel about it?[End Page 1] But I am sure, that in this, as in all other events of life, you submit your will to God's, and wait patiently and resignedly until He shall see fit to bring about our deliverance. Yes this is the right spirit. This is what we ought all to feel. But, oh, it is hard! Grace must abound to produce such a result. You have heard of the death of Mr. Henning. Oh, how very heart-rending to his poor family! So very sudden. He was taken sick Saturday, and died Wednesday! Congestion of the lungs. Mrs. Smith said that his sufferings were dreadful--every breath he drew with a scream of agony--until just before he died, when he seemed easy. his mind also wandered much during his illness--Oh, what a sudden fall his was! I really don't know whether he was a religious man or not. I hope so--a highly moral, upright, honorable man he was, and a loss to the community in which lived. But, his poor bereaved family--what a loss to them. And then as to their support--I'm afraid they will miss his salary very much, particularly in these hard, trying times--away from their home. Poor Miss Martha too. What a sad loss to her--she has been suffering with her eyes--much inflamed. Suppose, dear Stanna, you were to write her? I'm sure it would be gratifying [illegible] to her. I'm sure she would appreciate it. I am so sorry you have to lose [Tare?]. You'll miss her so very much--I certainly shall be very glad to see her, but I'm sorry to take her from you. I do hope she may be able to arrange her affairs, so as, to make her feel easier in mind than she does now. How glad I shall be to hear particularly of you through her. Oh, My dearest Stanna, when shall I ever be going to see you? When can I look forward to such a happiness? Now I'm afraid. Really, Stanna, do you remark what a great number of deaths have occurred since the war? You saw the death of your old friend Mrs. Boone I suppose? On her way to England, she never saw her sons again. I wonder, by the bye, where they are now since the war scarcely at the [birth?]. I hope you did not suffer in the last cold spell--I took a [illegible]--Do you think yr health is decidedly stronger, and do you ever have your old attacks now? And how are you getting on in domestic matters? More[End Page 2] comfortable than of yore I hope? How I wish we were near enough to compare notes and comfort each other under them--I'm sure you could often console and quiet my perturbed spirit--though I'm afraid I could not do much for you, except to give you my sympathy indeed--Return. I had to leave you just now to see our good neighbor, Mrs. Charles--I was so sorry though to lose the daylight for now I am writing to firelight. Oh, Stanna, if we could meet, how much and how [varied?] that we should have to talk over! The Past, the Present and the Future! The Past sad--the present uncomfortable and unsatisfying--and the future, perhaps, alas, miserably gloomy and unhappy! [Tare?] mentioned that Mr. Keith's health was quite bad. Don't you think it a risk for him to be alone in his uncertain state? Do you ever think of paralysis and dread it? I to be sure, have had a dreadful experience--I hope you are cheered by hearing frequently from Willis? How much you must have felt when he last left you. I almost think the pain of parting is greater than the pleasure of meeting for it is really only meeting to part again. And, therefore, even when in the enjoyment of the one, you have in anticipation the pain of the other--But so it must be--and so it is with all human things. Oh, it sometimes seems harsh to us, never to have unalloyed good meted out to us in this world!--We think and feel why should every bright anticipation bring disappointment, every joy be mingled with sorrow? Why can t we have at lease some things to enjoy wholly even in this world? But this we know is not God s dealing with us. And we know that He is very pitiful and of tender mercy. And though all must be right even as it is--I don t suppose you feel so uneasy about John now, as Charleston seems safe. I wonder if the siege is over, we hardly know what to expect. Do you see Lucy often? And do you like the Dr as well? You see Sarah more frequently now do you not? Do you walk out much? You still have Mr. Elliott in yr church--fortunate to have such a one.[End Page 3] In many respects you are much better situated than ourselves--We have no Episcopal Church here. The nearest Churches in the village--so inconveniently far. Indeed sometimes I do feel most discontented with my lot and all my surroundings. And wish Oh, how I wish, I was elsewhere--I feel perfectly heart sick of the war, which seems to me, so far as the [illegible] has gone, to have involved us only in perplexity, and trouble of all and every sort--Oh, if I could fly away, and be at last in some far off corner of the world in a quiet happy comfortable home be it ever so humble! You see, Dearest Stanna, I cannot feel reconciled to giving up all hope of happiness in this world. I will cling to it, and look at it, and expect it, what verily it cannot give--happiness--Would that I could realize this truth, and turn from it as from a broken cistern a cistern that will hold no water--So, my dearest Stanna, write me when you can, a sweet long letter telling me all you think and feel. And tell me too all your household doings. How do you spend yr evenings? Are you fortunate enough to have candles? Don t you long for bright, blazing, gaslights? I have some I am keeping for warm weather--so now we enjoy bright fires only--makes me anxious for the continuance of cool weather--and besides the summer is always so tediously long--I like winter much better I think. I m sorry it s over--Well, I must bring my letter to a close. I shall look out anxiously for an answer, but write only when it suits you. I know how you are situated--So Susan & Anna are to visit you? Poor Magdaline! You ll miss her--I assume you, dearest Stanna, you are not loved any the less by any of us, though we have nt seen you for so very long--Mr. B is very fond of you and does truly desire to be near you again--He would send his love--[illegible] & [illegible] send theirs--do give mine to all particularly Mr. Keith--and [believe?] me Why doesn t Rye write? Your truly affec Virginia[End Page 4]
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    Springville Thursday 29th/64 I beg pardon, my dearest Stanna, for having allowed your last letter to have remained so long unanswered. [Over/Ever?] and often have I felt the desire to have a long talk with you--and about so many things. But, somehow or other, it is not so easy to write as to talk over matters--I almost think, after all, writing is but a poor substitute for seeing, being with those we love very dearly, and wish to communicate very [unreservedly?] with. But, I attribute this very much to my dullness, perhaps. For really, it does seem to me sometimes, that my mind ever weak and uncultivated, has gone quite to waste. I can hardly think speak or write intelligently. And I, even now, at this time, feel, perhaps more than ever, the, want of intellectual improvement. [Now?], I do not mean as a matter of pride, but as the means which the Almighty has given us for sober, rational enjoyment. To be happy in [illegible]--and to contribute to the happiness of those around us. Well, my dear Stanna, I am glad you are so comfortably fixed for the war as you seem to be at present. And with regard to schools for the children Mimmy and [illegible]--to have Mr. Miles is indeed a privilege. How I do wish our poor boys particularly Allard could enjoy such a benefit--the school here is a poor one. I don't see how he is to continue there. But here we are fixed for the war I fear. Indeed [M?] is at present impracticable. Thank you for yr kind offer, but, really Stanna, even I could so impose upon yr kindness. I don't know how we could spare him from among us. I don't think Mr. Belin could do without him. it might affect him seriously. But I think he will have to see what he can do here for him--it is his [one?] certainly--I don't think [Tare's?] proposition a bad one. He must see about it--we are in an off and of the world here, where there are no educational advantages of any sort. The fact is we are heartily tired of it, but where, how can we go elsewhere? We must await God's time. I'm sure our move here was providential. We had no option. And our leaving it, must be so. Oh, for the happy time to arrive! But, the war--when will it cease! I am not all sanguine. How do you feel about it?[End Page 1] But I am sure, that in this, as in all other events of life, you submit your will to God's, and wait patiently and resignedly until He shall see fit to bring about our deliverance. Yes this is the right spirit. This is what we ought all to feel. But, oh, it is hard! Grace must abound to produce such a result. You have heard of the death of Mr. Henning. Oh, how very heart-rending to his poor family! So very sudden. He was taken sick Saturday, and died Wednesday! Congestion of the lungs. Mrs. Smith said that his sufferings were dreadful--every breath he drew with a scream of agony--until just before he died, when he seemed easy. his mind also wandered much during his illness--Oh, what a sudden fall his was! I really don't know whether he was a religious man or not. I hope so--a highly moral, upright, honorable man he was, and a loss to the community in which lived. But, his poor bereaved family--what a loss to them. And then as to their support--I'm afraid they will miss his salary very much, particularly in these hard, trying times--away from their home. Poor Miss Martha too. What a sad loss to her--she has been suffering with her eyes--much inflamed. Suppose, dear Stanna, you were to write her? I'm sure it would be gratifying [illegible] to her. I'm sure she would appreciate it. I am so sorry you have to lose [Tare?]. You'll miss her so very much--I certainly shall be very glad to see her, but I'm sorry to take her from you. I do hope she may be able to arrange her affairs, so as, to make her feel easier in mind than she does now. How glad I shall be to hear particularly of you through her. Oh, My dearest Stanna, when shall I ever be going to see you? When can I look forward to such a happiness? Now I'm afraid. Really, Stanna, do you remark what a great number of deaths have occurred since the war? You saw the death of your old friend Mrs. Boone I suppose? On her way to England, she never saw her sons again. I wonder, by the bye, where they are now since the war scarcely at the [birth?]. I hope you did not suffer in the last cold spell--I took a [illegible]--Do you think yr health is decidedly stronger, and do you ever have your old attacks now? And how are you getting on in domestic matters? More[End Page 2] comfortable than of yore I hope? How I wish we were near enough to compare notes and comfort each other under them--I'm sure you could often console and quiet my perturbed spirit--though I'm afraid I could not do much for you, except to give you my sympathy indeed--Return. I had to leave you just now to see our good neighbor, Mrs. Charles--I was so sorry though to lose the daylight for now I am writing to firelight. Oh, Stanna, if we could meet, how much and how [varied?] that we should have to talk over! The Past, the Present and the Future! The Past sad--the present uncomfortable and unsatisfying--and the future, perhaps, alas, miserably gloomy and unhappy! [Tare?] mentioned that Mr. Keith's health was quite bad. Don't you think it a risk for him to be alone in his uncertain state? Do you ever think of paralysis and dread it? I to be sure, have had a dreadful experience--I hope you are cheered by hearing frequently from Willis? How much you must have felt when he last left you. I almost think the pain of parting is greater than the pleasure of meeting for it is really only meeting to part again. And, therefore, even when in the enjoyment of the one, you have in anticipation the pain of the other--But so it must be--and so it is with all human things. Oh, it sometimes seems harsh to us, never to have unalloyed good meted out to us in this world!--We think and feel why should every bright anticipation bring disappointment, every joy be mingled with sorrow? Why can t we have at lease some things to enjoy wholly even in this world? But this we know is not God s dealing with us. And we know that He is very pitiful and of tender mercy. And though all must be right even as it is--I don t suppose you feel so uneasy about John now, as Charleston seems safe. I wonder if the siege is over, we hardly know what to expect. Do you see Lucy often? And do you like the Dr as well? You see Sarah more frequently now do you not? Do you walk out much? You still have Mr. Elliott in yr church--fortunate to have such a one.[End Page 3] In many respects you are much better situated than ourselves--We have no Episcopal Church here. The nearest Churches in the village--so inconveniently far. Indeed sometimes I do feel most discontented with my lot and all my surroundings. And wish Oh, how I wish, I was elsewhere--I feel perfectly heart sick of the war, which seems to me, so far as the [illegible] has gone, to have involved us only in perplexity, and trouble of all and every sort--Oh, if I could fly away, and be at last in some far off corner of the world in a quiet happy comfortable home be it ever so humble! You see, Dearest Stanna, I cannot feel reconciled to giving up all hope of happiness in this world. I will cling to it, and look at it, and expect it, what verily it cannot give--happiness--Would that I could realize this truth, and turn from it as from a broken cistern a cistern that will hold no water--So, my dearest Stanna, write me when you can, a sweet long letter telling me all you think and feel. And tell me too all your household doings. How do you spend yr evenings? Are you fortunate enough to have candles? Don t you long for bright, blazing, gaslights? I have some I am keeping for warm weather--so now we enjoy bright fires only--makes me anxious for the continuance of cool weather--and besides the summer is always so tediously long--I like winter much better I think. I m sorry it s over--Well, I must bring my letter to a close. I shall look out anxiously for an answer, but write only when it suits you. I know how you are situated--So Susan & Anna are to visit you? Poor Magdaline! You ll miss her--I assume you, dearest Stanna, you are not loved any the less by any of us, though we have nt seen you for so very long--Mr. B is very fond of you and does truly desire to be near you again--He would send his love--[illegible] & [illegible] send theirs--do give mine to all particularly Mr. Keith--and [believe?] me Why doesn t Rye write? Your truly affec Virginia[End Page 4]
  • Image 01
    Springville Thursday 29th/64 I beg pardon, my dearest Stanna, for having allowed your last letter to have remained so long unanswered. [Over/Ever?] and often have I felt the desire to have a long talk with you--and about so many things. But, somehow or other, it is not so easy to write as to talk over matters--I almost think, after all, writing is but a poor substitute for seeing, being with those we love very dearly, and wish to communicate very [unreservedly?] with. But, I attribute this very much to my dullness, perhaps. For really, it does seem to me sometimes, that my mind ever weak and uncultivated, has gone quite to waste. I can hardly think speak or write intelligently. And I, even now, at this time, feel, perhaps more than ever, the, want of intellectual improvement. [Now?], I do not mean as a matter of pride, but as the means which the Almighty has given us for sober, rational enjoyment. To be happy in [illegible]--and to contribute to the happiness of those around us. Well, my dear Stanna, I am glad you are so comfortably fixed for the war as you seem to be at present. And with regard to schools for the children Mimmy and [illegible]--to have Mr. Miles is indeed a privilege. How I do wish our poor boys particularly Allard could enjoy such a benefit--the school here is a poor one. I don't see how he is to continue there. But here we are fixed for the war I fear. Indeed [M?] is at present impracticable. Thank you for yr kind offer, but, really Stanna, even I could so impose upon yr kindness. I don't know how we could spare him from among us. I don't think Mr. Belin could do without him. it might affect him seriously. But I think he will have to see what he can do here for him--it is his [one?] certainly--I don't think [Tare's?] proposition a bad one. He must see about it--we are in an off and of the world here, where there are no educational advantages of any sort. The fact is we are heartily tired of it, but where, how can we go elsewhere? We must await God's time. I'm sure our move here was providential. We had no option. And our leaving it, must be so. Oh, for the happy time to arrive! But, the war--when will it cease! I am not all sanguine. How do you feel about it?[End Page 1] But I am sure, that in this, as in all other events of life, you submit your will to God's, and wait patiently and resignedly until He shall see fit to bring about our deliverance. Yes this is the right spirit. This is what we ought all to feel. But, oh, it is hard! Grace must abound to produce such a result. You have heard of the death of Mr. Henning. Oh, how very heart-rending to his poor family! So very sudden. He was taken sick Saturday, and died Wednesday! Congestion of the lungs. Mrs. Smith said that his sufferings were dreadful--every breath he drew with a scream of agony--until just before he died, when he seemed easy. his mind also wandered much during his illness--Oh, what a sudden fall his was! I really don't know whether he was a religious man or not. I hope so--a highly moral, upright, honorable man he was, and a loss to the community in which lived. But, his poor bereaved family--what a loss to them. And then as to their support--I'm afraid they will miss his salary very much, particularly in these hard, trying times--away from their home. Poor Miss Martha too. What a sad loss to her--she has been suffering with her eyes--much inflamed. Suppose, dear Stanna, you were to write her? I'm sure it would be gratifying [illegible] to her. I'm sure she would appreciate it. I am so sorry you have to lose [Tare?]. You'll miss her so very much--I certainly shall be very glad to see her, but I'm sorry to take her from you. I do hope she may be able to arrange her affairs, so as, to make her feel easier in mind than she does now. How glad I shall be to hear particularly of you through her. Oh, My dearest Stanna, when shall I ever be going to see you? When can I look forward to such a happiness? Now I'm afraid. Really, Stanna, do you remark what a great number of deaths have occurred since the war? You saw the death of your old friend Mrs. Boone I suppose? On her way to England, she never saw her sons again. I wonder, by the bye, where they are now since the war scarcely at the [birth?]. I hope you did not suffer in the last cold spell--I took a [illegible]--Do you think yr health is decidedly stronger, and do you ever have your old attacks now? And how are you getting on in domestic matters? More[End Page 2] comfortable than of yore I hope? How I wish we were near enough to compare notes and comfort each other under them--I'm sure you could often console and quiet my perturbed spirit--though I'm afraid I could not do much for you, except to give you my sympathy indeed--Return. I had to leave you just now to see our good neighbor, Mrs. Charles--I was so sorry though to lose the daylight for now I am writing to firelight. Oh, Stanna, if we could meet, how much and how [varied?] that we should have to talk over! The Past, the Present and the Future! The Past sad--the present uncomfortable and unsatisfying--and the future, perhaps, alas, miserably gloomy and unhappy! [Tare?] mentioned that Mr. Keith's health was quite bad. Don't you think it a risk for him to be alone in his uncertain state? Do you ever think of paralysis and dread it? I to be sure, have had a dreadful experience--I hope you are cheered by hearing frequently from Willis? How much you must have felt when he last left you. I almost think the pain of parting is greater than the pleasure of meeting for it is really only meeting to part again. And, therefore, even when in the enjoyment of the one, you have in anticipation the pain of the other--But so it must be--and so it is with all human things. Oh, it sometimes seems harsh to us, never to have unalloyed good meted out to us in this world!--We think and feel why should every bright anticipation bring disappointment, every joy be mingled with sorrow? Why can t we have at lease some things to enjoy wholly even in this world? But this we know is not God s dealing with us. And we know that He is very pitiful and of tender mercy. And though all must be right even as it is--I don t suppose you feel so uneasy about John now, as Charleston seems safe. I wonder if the siege is over, we hardly know what to expect. Do you see Lucy often? And do you like the Dr as well? You see Sarah more frequently now do you not? Do you walk out much? You still have Mr. Elliott in yr church--fortunate to have such a one.[End Page 3] In many respects you are much better situated than ourselves--We have no Episcopal Church here. The nearest Churches in the village--so inconveniently far. Indeed sometimes I do feel most discontented with my lot and all my surroundings. And wish Oh, how I wish, I was elsewhere--I feel perfectly heart sick of the war, which seems to me, so far as the [illegible] has gone, to have involved us only in perplexity, and trouble of all and every sort--Oh, if I could fly away, and be at last in some far off corner of the world in a quiet happy comfortable home be it ever so humble! You see, Dearest Stanna, I cannot feel reconciled to giving up all hope of happiness in this world. I will cling to it, and look at it, and expect it, what verily it cannot give--happiness--Would that I could realize this truth, and turn from it as from a broken cistern a cistern that will hold no water--So, my dearest Stanna, write me when you can, a sweet long letter telling me all you think and feel. And tell me too all your household doings. How do you spend yr evenings? Are you fortunate enough to have candles? Don t you long for bright, blazing, gaslights? I have some I am keeping for warm weather--so now we enjoy bright fires only--makes me anxious for the continuance of cool weather--and besides the summer is always so tediously long--I like winter much better I think. I m sorry it s over--Well, I must bring my letter to a close. I shall look out anxiously for an answer, but write only when it suits you. I know how you are situated--So Susan & Anna are to visit you? Poor Magdaline! You ll miss her--I assume you, dearest Stanna, you are not loved any the less by any of us, though we have nt seen you for so very long--Mr. B is very fond of you and does truly desire to be near you again--He would send his love--[illegible] & [illegible] send theirs--do give mine to all particularly Mr. Keith--and [believe?] me Why doesn t Rye write? Your truly affec Virginia[End Page 4]
Title:
007. Virginia to Stanna -- [Unknown month] 29, 1864
Creator:
Wilkinson and Keith Families
Date:
1864
Description:
A letter in which Virginia [possibly Virginia Wilkinson Belin] laments the recent deaths of several acquantances, and hopes for the war to end.
Collection:
Wilkinson-Keith Family Papers
Contributing Institution:
College of Charleston Libraries
Media Type:
Manuscripts
Topical Subject:
Pneumonia, Health
Geographic Subject:
United States--History--Civil War, 1861-1865
Shelving Locator:
Mss 0111
S.C. County:
Charleston County (S.C.)
Internet Media Type:
image/jpeg
Digitization Specifications:
600 ppi, 24-bit depth, color, Epson Expression 10000XL scanner, Archival Master is a tiff.
Copyright Status Statement:
Digital image copyright 2010, The College of Charleston Libraries. All rights reserved. For more information contact The College of Charleston Library, Charleston, SC 29424.