Searching for Susan

Susan continues the letter a few days later.

Danversport. Dec. 23, 1866. Sunday eve. 6 1/2 o'clock

Dearest Edwin,

I have stolen away up stairs & am sitting "all alone" in father's room which is nice & warm. The rain is pouring fast & thinking the weather tomorrow may be such that I may not have the pleasure of seeing you I thought I would write to you which will be the next best to seeing you. I am hoping the day will be fair, but if it is not I presume it will be all right & I will try & bear the disappointment. As I opened my writing desk I took up one of your letters bearing the date of Nov. 15th, written to me while I was teaching in Lynn. How long ago that seems! & you speak of making ready for the painters, & other changes.

That work is all completed now & as I was reminded by it of the flight of time, I also thought how quickly these days of my stay at home are going & that probably not many more Sabbath evenings shall I sit down & talk with you with pen & paper; but it will be pleasanter to sit down with you than to think of you all alone as I now do, I presume you expected a letter from me last evening; I did not receive yours till yesterday after noon & then it was too late to send to you.

I wish the post office would do better. I think it treats you better than it does me in giving you a letter the same day it is mailed here. You must have been very busy to have put down so many carpets in one day. I thought it would take a long time to fit the oil-cloth to the dining room. I think you will feel relieved when you have everything in order & then shall you want someone to keep them so?

I have attended church but once today & came home when it was raining fast, & I think the prospect of a sleigh-ride is not very promising.Susan continues writing, on Christmas eve.Monday morning.

I have been watching the clouds, dear Edwin, for the last hour & come to the conclusion now (7 1/2 o'clock) that the weather is "decidedly stormy." (Such weather as I usually have when I come to Acton) & think it is not best to start for Boston for it is very rainy. From your letter I infer that you think it best for me to start tomorrow, you do not forget it is Christmas, I suppose.

If I do not hear from you & if the weather is pleasant I will start tomorrow to meet you at the same hour as you designated. If you should get as far as Boston & do not find me come right on to Danvers; won't you? I am real disappointed; for I do want to see you. You may think of us today as at work with the quilting frame. I must not write more as Charley will take this to the office.

I will not forget you today, if I cannot meet you. Mary sends love. Now, once more good morning. With much love to you my dear Edwin, I am your aff.

Susie

Christmas doesn't seem as important as one might imagine. This is the only mention of the holiday. They did, however, exchange presents. It appears Edwin's gift was a diamond ring. Susan visited Edwin in Acton, and Boston. Julia, her ten year old niece, travelled with her.

Now we hear a different perspective as Susan's sister-in-law Mary writes directly to Edwin. Once again, the strong sense of family is apparent.

Danversport Dec. 30, 1866

Dear brother Edwin,

I was very happy to receive a letter from you so unexpectedly, but must confess I was a little anxious until I glanced through it, thinking Susie must be sick. I think I know what it is to be busy and could imagine just how you were situated. I should have written had I not thought Susie would be home Friday, as the weather was not suitable to go to Lowell. She arrived home safely last night and it seems to me nothing but a kind Providence ever saved her from injury when in such a perilous situation. I think she will not be any more fond of driving in future than I am of having her.

Julia arrived home in safety, after having enjoyed ever so much; she has not done telling the sights she saw, one of the most prominent was the large elephant. She saw my brother James come into the car in Lynn, and took her seat with him. I am very much obliged to you for your kindness, and attention to her, and hope someday I may have the privilege of repaying it. Her kitten came safely and is much admired by her and Martha, it has not seemed lonely at all.

I went with Martha to Ipswich in the 6 o'clock train, and arrived in just season to get a good seat at the exhibition, enjoyed it much, spent the night at Aunt Martha's, in the morning made eight calls on those numerous cousins, and came home with Martha in the half past eleven train.

I thought of you both on Thursday, and imagined you enjoying yourselves though stormy, for if we have those about us we love, it makes but little difference about the weather.

I can hardly bear the thought of your taking Susie away from me, and did I not feel and know you would do better for her than I could, I should feel quite unwilling. She has been with me for nine years, and I never expect to take so much comfort in another, as I have in her. She has been as kind, and is as near as any sister could be, and I must tell you that I think you are a fortunate man in having secured her affections. Although she will move in a different sphere at a distance from me, I shall ever feel the same interest in her welfare, that I should one of my own children.

It is time for meeting to be done, and I will close off wishing you a Happy New Year. Aff. yours,

Mary

Yet another voice is heard from Danvers, that of eleven year old Julia, Mary's daughter and Susan's niece.

Danvers Port, Dec. 30th

Dear Mr. Fletcher.

I received the kitten safely and thank you very much for it, and I think she is real pretty. I think she misses you some, but she does not seem very lonely. I thank you very much for your kindness to me in Boston. I had a real nice time and got home safely. Why didn't you let Aunt Susie come home Thursday, as I told you to?

When I got home I found Mother and Martha had gone up to Ipswich to spend the night. I wish you a happy New Year and wish you was going to be here to spend it with us. I hope you will excuse the mistakes and consider this letter worth an answer. With much love, I am aff. yours,

Julia

Susan writes the same day after returning from spending several days in Acton.

Danversport Dec. 30th, 1866 Sunday evening

My dear, dear Edwin,

It is the last Sabbath evening of 1866 & may I not spend a part of it in writing to you? The twelve months of another year have followed each other in quick succession & we stand almost on the threshold of a new year. We can hardly enter it without a review of what has passed in the one which has nearly gone. The sermon this afternoon was a review of our blessings & reasons for thankfulness. And dearest Edwin I felt that I had cause for gratitude that God has given me such a dear, kind & true friend as you, & that he has protected me from danger, & injury, aside from the numberless mercies which ever attend us.

I have thought of you so many times to day & also how pleasant it would be to spend the hours of this day in our "sweet home" with you. Words cannot express to you the many emotions of my own heart when I saw how much your loving hands had done to make home pleasant & attractive. You have mad e it so its very atmosphere on entering it was so, & you do not know how much I enjoyed the happy hours we spent there.

And most of all when I sat with you & read those precious promises of our heavenly Father & we knelt together to seek his blessing. If things could have been so arranged, we should have found it pleasant to begin this new life with the new year, should we not?

But, dear Edwin, it will not be long before that time will come if a kind providence permits, will it?

You will conclude that I have reached home, which I did safely about five o'clock. One of our neighbors very kindly relieved me of some of my baggage & carried kitty to the door. She behaved nicely & Julia is delighted with her. From both of the children she receives every needed attention. We all love her for your sake.

Miss Brown & one of my scholars had been here all the afternoon waiting for me & had gone only a little while before. I was sorry not to see them. They brought me a very pretty work basket & a picture to hang in our sitting room. Miss B. also left a photograph of herself for you which I will enclose.

Now, with regard to yourself, did you have a pleasant ride to Concord? Did you warm the soapstone? Did you get someone to hold the horse for you? Were you cold riding home? Did you have a lonely ride? Did the goods arrive safely? I hope I shall find all these questions answered in my letter which I shall be anxious to receive.

I have attended church but once today. I felt rather stiff & lame this morning but am quite well tonight. I presume you have attended both services. Did you not disappoint some people by going alone? But I suppose they are sure you will bring company next Sabbath.

I can imagine just how you are seated to night, writing I think a letter to someone who would enjoy sitting down with you. Did we not have pleasant talks? And they were such as strengthened my confidence in you & increased my love for you. I wish I could be with you tomorrow & sew the carpet & arrange the room for you. I think it will be very pretty when it is finished. Your beautiful gift of yesterday glistens as I move near the light. It is another proof of your kindness. When shall I repay it all? Was your mother satisfied with the errand we did for her? How is your brother's wife?

Please give much love to all the friends at home & excuse the "uphill" lines of this letter. I suppose this is the last letter I shall write to you this year and as I remember that one year ago I did not know you I hope that in one year to come I shall know you more.

Wishing for you dear Edwin a happy new year & hoping for a letter tomorrow & to hear that you are well. I am with much love & good night kiss, your own,

Susie

P.S. I suppose our letters will pass each other on the way. So will you not consider it your turn to write & let me have a letter Wednesday? & I will reply as soon as I receive it.

Thus ends 1866, a life-changing year for Edwin Fletcher and Susan Smith. Eighteen sixty-seven awaits.