Relatively Speaking

Albany April 1872

My dear Mother

Time in his daily round has again brought to me a few leisure moments for communicating with you and gladly do I improve the opportunity he offers.

Of all the moments spent here, the happiest are the ones spent in reading and answering your letters. “Blessed be letters,” I have said this very often before, but never as I say it now. They have always afforded a pleasure “refined and true” but have never before been absolutely essential to my happiness…

I expected one from the children this afternoon as you said they were going to write this week, but in this I was doomed to meet with disappointment as I very often am and it seems to me  as if I can not stand another week as I must go right home, and yet I know I shall hear from you Tuesday and I am very foolish to feel so over such a little thing.

By the time I should get home my letter would be here and I should feel as I did when I came home from the Institute like coming back again. We are having beautiful weather and I am enjoying myself very much. I can hardly realize (as Alma says) that  I have been here so long. How quickly the hours of life pass away and we hardly know that they are going. Time is very precious and gives us…

We are going to have examinations next week in geography and Arithmetic and I have been drawing maps and studying rules and explanations all day and if I don’t pass out of this geography class, I will not draw any maps anyway. I might better spend it in writing poetry, do not you think so?

By the way, did you like yours and do you think it fit for publication if so please send me the address of the Companion (I think it is Allen and Co., Augusta, Maine), but have nearly forgotten and I will send them to the paper and let them publish them if they will.

Enclosed you will find some written on the death of little Augie Bander? They are not very  good and I  had forgotten about them till Carrie found them in a book and read them and pronounced them good, so I concluded to send them to you. What did you do with Mrs. Kelso’s? I did not know whether you wanted to give them to her or not. Did you find yours?… 

[The gist of the next part is that Carrie wanted her to go walking with her and a friend.]

I declined having other and more important work to do. They waited for Miss Lynde a long time and then concluded that she was not coming and went out alone. They had been gone but a few moments when Belle, who had been detained by company she said, made her appearance. She was very much disappointed and insisted upon my going out with her to find them. I excused myself as well as I could, and persuaded Mrs. Wright to let Freddie accompany her to the Geological rooms, telling her to come back and wait until they came in if they were not there.

In a few minutes she came in and waited about an hour, when the wanderers returned and they all went out again for another walk. Carrie has invited us to go with them to Bridgeman’s church tomorrow. I do not think very seriously of accepting this invitation though I may conclude to do so.

You need not warn me to guard my secrets. I have no confidante, but my mother, and experience has taught me that I can trust her perfectly in all things and and her (my mother) lessons with some aid from experience has also taught me that she is almost the only one whom I can trust.

Carrie gets indignant sometimes because I will not go out every time she happens to feel like it. I believe her brother has advised her not to [ask] me anymore and she informed me that she had concluded to take his advice. A very wise conclusion and one which will afford me a great deal of pleasure if she only “sticks to it.” I went out with her three times in one day and then she wanted me to go again in the evening.

I suppose school will soon commence in the Village. Tell me the teacher’s name as soon as you know. I am interested to know if Beek takes it.

Do you ever hear from Mr. Lindseley any more? Where is Maria? Did she finish high school? I hear Mr. Van Auken has sold his place at last. What is W. Ayres going…

Dear friend Mary,

How are Mrs West’s children and ours? Has Dora got over his cold yet? I will close this letter and try and write a few lines to Maria. Tell Ida and Lon if they do not write, they’ll wish they had. When I write to them again as the letter will be so long they will never be able to read it. Tell Eldred I think he might favor me with a letter once in a while. He and Lon are home and have plenty of time for writing.

With best love to all. I remain

Ever yours aff. [affectionately]

Edith

Note: Maria, Lon, Ida, and Dora were Edith (Emma’s) siblings. Dora was apparently the nickname for Henry Ladore.

State Normal School

April 7th 1872

My Dear Mother,

Your ever welcome letter was received and read with pleasure as your letters always are and I can truly say that it is with pleasure that I have seated myself to answer it. I always wait until a day as Saturday as I have more time then to say all I want to and I have always so much to say. Don’t you wish I would write some other day when my time is so “limited” as Trusson? says and I could not say so much. 

I was very sorry to hear of Mr. Myres [I think this is my great great grandfather Martin D. Myers. He would not be related to Emma however.] death and to hear that Mr. Lindsley had lost his speech. I do not believe he will ever get over the effects of his winter’s teaching in HalfWay Brook (which we call Lumberland). That schoolhouse is enough to kill anyone and ought to be burned down.

Carrie was telling Kansouth? about it and he said he ought to have lost his speech or something to that effect. That he was now keeping a liquor store in Newburgh and had been for sometime and that he was a drunkard, a rowdy and the most deceitful person that ever lived. The first statement I contradicted as I know he has been lately in Monticello and not in Newburgh. The others I of course did not believe, but did not consider it worth while to say so. I suppose his being connected with a liquor store is a heinous crime in their sight; all the worse it seems to them on account of their being unused to any such thing. I wonder if Mr. C has license now. Carrie says he has not. 

We came down yesterday for Carrie to go to Bureau of Military Statistics. I did not want to go but I could not help it. Carrie would have me. She says she never enjoys herself unless I am with them. While we were there, Kossouth called our attention to a picture of H F. Lindsley and said Carrie had been telling him that Mr. Lindsley had lost his speech that it was too bad, etc. So I find that even he can use a little deception! He asked me if he was not engaged in business in Newburgh and I told him I believed he was in Monticello and then we changed the subject for one more or less interesting.

There was a very good picture of Gov. Hoffman there and one of Gen. Stoneman, Miss Stoneman’s brother. In one case was a baby’s picture with the words, “Found on the Battlefield”. There were several others in the same case. One taken from a confederate officer of a southern lady beautifully dressed and very pretty. There was a case filled with Memorials of Lincoln’s Assassination among them a pair of gloves worn by one of the delegation at his funeral and several badges of mourning.

In a frame above the case was a piece of poetry commencing:

Weep for the martyr. Weep ye nations.

His cause was yours; and your his aspiration

Weep freedmen freed from chain and lashes

Weep traitor neath rebellions ashes!

In another case were the uniforms of Ellsworth and Brownwell, the sword of Elsworth and the guns with which Ellsworth and Bronwell were shot. In another were two specimens of Japanese armor and these with the flags and pictures were all I saw that I cared for except a piece of moss from the tree under which Gen Lee surrendered.

There were plenty of balls, shells…swords and guns, and one Indian scalp—things that makes one afraid to think of. When we had looked at them all, we went over for buttermilk falls in the southern part of Albany for a walk when we got home, it was after five o’clock and we were half tired to death. I have not taken such a walk since last summer and shall not take “such another.”

I received a letter from Addie this morning the first time. I have heard from there since Father went home. I answered father’s letter two or three weeks ago, but he has not written yet. 

Addie says she thinks Dr. Alden’s view of flirtation very good, but thinks I may venture to write to Mr. B. even if almost an old maid as (speaking from experience she says) even they like to have friends. I do not remember whether I thought of him the first of April or not, but should not close to say that I did not. I do not believe however that he thought of me, and I think he is just as hateful as he can be. I am writing in the…Carrie is reading aloud at intervals for my benefit and the rest of her time…[Emma]

1872 first term Albany

My darling Mother,

I have just received your very welcome letter, and as you wish me to answer so that you can hear from me Friday, I will try and scribble a few lines now, though I have only a few minutes to do it in as it has taken me nearly all the afternoon to work out some questions in Complex Fractions according to a new theory of Professor Husteads. It took me some time to get it so that I could understand it and explain it out. I think I can do so now and this way is much better than any I have ever seen before.

But I must stop writing about my lesson. I have several yet to learn, must busy and get to studying out. I must tell you just one thing more. We are nearly through our Physiology and I shall be glad when we are done with skeletons and bones. Miss Stoneman had a skull of a ? the class today and took the bones apart, and passed them around the class for the students to look at. I looked…but did not touch any myself.

Miss Stoneman was up in our grammar class today. Allie Van Kleek, one of the graduates, was in the class and she says she is going to make me talk louder before I was called on, she complained to Miss McClelland that she could not hear one of the girls and I was so afraid that she would complain of me that I would hardly speak.

I would not have been scared if Miss S had not been there. Allie said my voice trembled so and my cheeks were so red that she took compassion on me and kept still. The girls wanted to know what made my cheeks so red. I thought my face was burning up and every word choked me and they all laughed about it when I got home.

But I have forgotten all the good resolutions I made when I commenced writing. I have written much more than I intended to. Fortunately my paper is nearly full and I must stop any more. 

Tell father I received the money and thank him for me for sending it. I am glad he thinks I have improved in writing. It is some consolation to have someone think so if I can not think it myself.

Tell Ida I am much obliged to her for her letter and will answer soon.

K. R. Cooper has graduated here and starts for…may go home next week and has promised to take a message to you from me if he should see any of you. I could not think of anything but to tell you to write and so he helped me a little and said he would say I was getting along well and did not get much homesick. Of course he knows. With much love, 

Ever yours

E.E.A.

March 1872

My dear Mother,

I have been copying poetry and drawing maps all day and now I am going to write a few lines to my mother as I am tired and I know this will rest me as much as anything.

It seems so good after being busy all week, to have a little time to call your own. I am glad we do not have school Saturday. I never should have anytime for writing if they did. The lessons are not very hard to learn, but they are hard to recite and it takes me all the time to think what I shall say and how I shall say it when I get up in the class and then I very often forget and say something wrong.

We have been having review in Geography all this week. I asked Mrs Stoneman yesterday how many failures I had made. She said I had not made any, but my recitation on Tuesday was not very good. She gave me Mr. Parish’s ? to recite from and I could not tell what it was and consequently failed to recite. I was afraid she marked it a failure, but she did not.

I think this school is very good for those who intend to teach. But I think we could learn more in one year at Monticello Academy, than one can here in two. We would go over more studies we might perhaps not be able to explain them as well to children. I am going over now now what ought to have been taught me at school just as soon as I commenced studying grammar, geography, arithmetic, etc. I don’t believe a fourth of the teachers in Sullivan County or any other county for that matter, are qualified to teach.

The girls in our class are just as dumb as they can be which is a great advantage to me. I have this consolation, if I don’t pass out of this class, no one of them will.

Since I commenced this, Mrs. Wright has given me a letter from you and one from Mary Darling. It is the first time I have heard from her. Miss Shoonmaker has not answered my letter yet. Mary seemed quite surprised that I am here and advised me to go to the observatory should I be up for a flirtation and graduate in matrimony, instead of spending my time in the schoolroom. She did not give me anymore information in regard to her getting married from spite. I told her to give me an invitation to the wedding or save me a piece of the cake.

You say you have not heard from me yet. I think it is very strange. I wrote to you and Ida last Saturday and to Maria and Lon so that I thought that they would leave the letters last Friday and you would hear from me Monday, twice last week. I do not know why you have not received my letters. I began to think you would not write me this week, and I was just as lonesome as could be when your letter came.

[Maria and Lon are her brother and sister, probably Ida is her sister Aida.]

I feel considerably better now. I hope you will write me as often as you can. You do not know how much good your letters do me. But I do not want to be too selfish and I know you do not have much time for writing so. I will try and be contented with whatever letter you may send.

I heard from home three times last week and it made this week seem all the longer. You must not be afraid to send me as many compositions as you are a mind to. I write just as often and will correct them all—sometime, but shall not return them.

I wish Mr. B had sent a valentine or something so I could have written. It would seem kind of good to hear from him again…Please burn this letter won’t you. I am almost afraid to send this information for fear you will not get it… [Emma]

Albany, March 1872

Dear Mother,

Friday once more as I have leisure to write to you and Ida and correct that composition. I have been very busy this week so that I have not had time to think of writing, and it seems so good to be at liberty to talk to you for a few minutes even if I can only talk with pen and ink on a little piece of paper that will not contain one half I want to say.

I received a letter from Ida Monday and one from you Tuesday, so that I have been quite favored in hearing from home this week. 

The composition was very good. I don’t think I could have done better myself as Addie says. Perhaps I will try sometime and I will let you know the result. I did not see any fault in the connection of the sentences. I am not as observing or particular as someone else. I made some changes in the last verse, the last two lines.

“You will think of a Mother’s love

And not forget your home.”

I changed to:

You’ll not forget a mother’s love

Or cease to think of home.”

because I liked the way it rhymed better.

Since writing this, I have stopped and ironed my clothes. I always iron Friday. Mrs. Wright does my washing and I think she ought to. We pay enough for board though we get ours much cheaper than some of the girls. If I stay another term, I shall board myself. It is much cheaper and I should like it better. I am as careful of my money as I can be and have not lost any yet. 

You need not worry about anything that you think I have not got. You did put in something in my trunk and I shall get along enough. I wish I could see you this afternoon instead of waiting. I have so much to say and I do not feel like writing.

I get along very well in school, at least the teachers tell me my standing is good whenever I ask them.

I have not dared to ask Miss Stoneman yet. She is my teacher in map drawing and penmanship and I am afraid I shall never be able to draw maps correctly anyway. It takes more time than anything else and I do not see any particular use in it. And then if we do not speak loud enough in our recitation, she marks us the same as for missing. She always tells me to talk louder until I forget what I am going to say, so I suppose my standing in that is not very good though it can not be very low or she would tell me. 

Grammar is very easy and I get along quite well in that Miss McClelland gave us sentences to write and analyze the other day. She found quite a good deal of fault with the most of them, and when I got about half way through with mine, she said “Stop.” “Miss Austin that was done beautifully, jut the way I wanted it.”

I thought it was quite a compliment, but did not appreciate it very much at the time for I was so busy…when she spoke out so quick. I thought I had said something wrong and I was so frightened that I did not get over it all day and I would rather she had kept still and marked me 10, without saying anything about it.

The girls laughed as hard as they could because I jumped so when he spoke. Miss Rutland, our teacher in Arithmetic, gave us an invitation the other day to call on her. Her mother and she live here…[Emma]

Saturday March 2, 1872

My dear, dear Mother,

I guess I shall be obliged to do as Miss Schoonmaker does and make a sort of diary of my letters for I get so lonesome as it seems to me I must write to you as I can not live without going home. Now I do not mean to say I am really homesick. I do not believe I am. I know I am not so much so as I have often been before. But I get a little tired and lonesome and then I think I would feel better if I were only somewhere else, and yet I like it here very much. But you know it is my disposition to be discontented.

I have had the teethache all day today and this afternoon, I went to the dentist and had one drained. 

This morning Mr. Bigelow, a teacher from New York and a graduate from here, came in for the girls to go up to the legislature. And gave Carrie and I an invitation to go, too. We accepted the invitation and went. I hoped to see Gov. Hoffman…but in this I was disappointed. 

I had the pleasure of seeing Senator Madden and hearing him speak. But did not observe anything remarkably brilliant either in his looks or conversation. He looks like a drunken Irishman and I think they showed very poor taste to say nothing of the sense when they elected him in preference to Beebe. They spent most of the time in which we were there in disputing the time in which they should meet again and finally decided to adjourn until Tuesday next—half past 7 o’clock pm. 

They were rather more dignified and orderly in the Senate than in the house of Representatives. But I did not receive very exalted impressions of either.

We went from the Senate to the State Library and took a look at the books. It is a large and nicely finished building and contains 82,000 volumes of standard literature. We have the privilege of going there to read whenever we please, but are not allowed to take any books from the building.

This afternoon, Roosouth came up for us to go to the Library with him. As we had already been, we went up to the park and had a cold walk, which I for one did not very much enjoy. And I do not think the cold air has been very beneficial to my teeth, as they feel rather sore.

We are going up to the Observatory before long. Dr. Alden thinks it very desirable that we should visit it once during our stay in Albany. But has forbidden us to go more than once as he considers it a very possible place for flirtations and he decidedly objects to anything of the kind among the students of the State Normal. Mr. Wright tells me that it is the only or at least the principle object of the school to make old maids, and that we sign a contract to remain single when we enter the school, but Dr. Alden says a lady is always entitled to the privilege of changing her mind. So it is not so bad after all.

Wednesday

I had hoped to hear from you today, but I was disappointed as I very often am. I wish some of you could write me every Monday so I would know just when to look for a letter from home and I think I ought to have a letter once a week any way or I would try and be satisfied if I could get one every two weeks. I have been writing to Cousin Addie this afternoon. Dr. Alden says we must rest after dinner before we commence studying. I do not usually do so but I feel just indolent enough this afternoon to follow his advice and he says  rest is not after all to be rest, but exercise and an entire forgetfulness of our studies. So I am going to spend my rest in the pleasant exercise of writing.

I have not been so tired since I have been here as I am today.

Miss Stoweman gave me the map of Maine to draw on the board and explain to the class. Carrie said I was as pale as could be and my hand trembled so I could hardly draw. I was frightened to death when I commenced, but I…got along, at least she said so. Miss Rutland, my teacher in Arithmetic, said this morning that she was very glad to see that Miss Austin learned her lessons so well. Excuse me for repeating these compliments (they are the first I have had) as if I were proud of them. I am not. They are perfectly worthless to me, except as you may prize them.

I was sorry to hear of George Eldred’s death. Poor Mett? [Marietta?] It seems hard for her to be left alone with those little children. Did any of the girls come home? Excuse poor writing mistakes. Tell them all to write. Give my love to all enquiring friends. And to Father. I suppose he is home. Carrie sends her love. Write soon to your daughter,

Edith

Lumberland January 1872

Dear Father,

Excuse me for failing to fulfill the promise I made while I try and redeem my word by doing what I should have done several mailing days ago. I meant to have written to you  as soon as I heard from the Com. [commissioner] as I told you I would, but I was a little disappointed in the contents of his letter and as mother was writing I told her to tell you I could go to Albany if I chose, which was nearly all the information I received from him and I would mail, until I heard from Albany before writing to you.

Mr Bauman sent me a second account to Mr. Weaver, the Superintendent of Public Instruction recommending me to him as possessing the requisite qualifications for an appointment to the State Normal School, and directed me to write to the President of the School for any information I might desire. I wrote accordingly and received a reply from Mr. Alden Monday night. He says the term does not commence until the 3rd Wednesday of February so that I have more time than I thought I had. My tuition is free, and the books are provided for us. If I am there at the commencement of the term and stay ’til the close, my traveling expenses are paid to me so that there is no expense but that of board and I can hire a furnished room for 1 dollar a week and board myself. He says the majority of the ladies do this. I shall come to New York about the first of February…

I have given you the full particulars at least I have taken up room enough and I know you must be tired of hearing of Albany so I will take another subject.

To begin with, Mrs. Wells has gone to that trial? again and I am down here keeping house for her. I do not know when she will be back. Parker went out Monday. Youngs waited until yesterday. I was home a little while yesterday. Mother told me she had received a letter from you. They are all well at home.

Mort [this must be my grandpa who was 7 years old.] is getting better. He insisted about every day on going to the barn. He says he is well enough and doesn’t know what the cows must think of his staying away so long. He was out on the stoop a few minutes Sunday. But it has been so cold since that she has not dared to let him go out. 

Julia Kyte died Monday night and is to be buried Thursday. I hear Mr. Webber is to preach the funeral sermon. They telegraphed to their friends in New York, Tuesday morning. It seems dreadful to think of it is so sudden. But very few heard of her sickness till the news of her death reached them. She was sick only one day. Dr. DeVenoge and Dobron? were both called, but human aid was powerless to save her from the grasp of the Destroyer. Truly “in the middle of life we are in death” and ought at all times to be prepared for his coming. I would write more, but I have no room and I fear you will hardly be able to read what I have written, but my excuse for poor writing is as usual, a poor pen and  I might also be a poor writer. 

Give my love to all my friends there. If you see Tina, tell her I will write as soon as I can, but I am very busy just now and have very little time for writing.

With love to my father and best wishes for his temporal and eternal happiness. I remain as ever his aff. [affectionate] daughter,

Edith E. A.

September 1918

September 19, 1918

Dear Mother,

I was glad to hear from you. I have been busy lately and have not written as I should I am well and feel as if I will be lucky.

I only wish that I could tell you more about where I have been during the past couple of weeks. YOu would blame me for not writing more. I certainly thought enough about you when I was laying in a shell hole with the German shells throwing dirt and tones all over me…

I got a letter from Raymond, a few days ago. He seems quite  well satisfied. I think both of us will be more contented with home when we get back.

It is surprising just how little a person really needs. I hope George Dunlap was not badly wounded. 

Well, I will close with love.

Your son,

McKinley

Mortimer M. Austin

Private, Machine Gun Co.

11 US Inf.

APO 728

[Ok G F Dashiell, 1st St Inf, AEF.]

Sept. 22, 1918

Dear Aunt

I am writing to let you know I am well.

So far I have received all your letters. They did not come in rotation for I got your fourth, 3 days after your sixth.

I have not written as I should because we have been busy and when I get a while off, I like to rest. I should be ashamed of myself, I know.

I got the pictures all right. If you see Lena, tell her I got her letter and wrote once from over here. Her picture is not as good looking as she is but, I knew who it was.

I am glad to hear you are getting along so well on the farm. Next year I may be home to help, of course we can’t be sure. If it is possible to get the lard? castle place, do so .

When I come back, I will have a coupl of hundred dollars or more to help with.

I think that I will be lucky here. I have been so far.

Well, give my love to all,

Your nephew,

McKinley

Mortimer McK. Austin

Private machine gunner

11 US Inf AEF

OK—Geo T. Dashiell, 1st lt inf

September 28, 1918

Miss Lena HIll

(seems to have been censored by a Wm. J. Mc Veigh Chaplain)

Dear Lena,

Did you get the other letter I wrote? It was so long ago I forgot when. I got a letter from you that you wrote just after I left the states. I got your picture from my aunt. It was good, but you are much better looking than the picture.

Well, how is everything in Eldred now? I hope to be back there by this time next year or sooner.

It is now about 14 months since I enlisted in the army and I will be glad when the war is over. We are doing our best to get it over soon, too. The allies are winning everywhere now, and America is doing her share. I heard from my brother Raymond. He is in Panama now. He seems to like the army pretty well.

I guess I will clowe now. Write soon. Hoping you are well. I am.

Your friend, McKinley

M.M. Austin

Private, Machine Gun Co.

11 US Inf.

APO 728

October 1918

Eldred, NY, October 7, 1918

Dear McKinley,

I see by the papers that the soldiers are going to be allowed to have Christmas presents, and that the Christmas labels are being distributed to the soldiers. It will see so good to be allowed to send you a little something again.

It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the war ended before Christmas, but it isn’t likely that things will be settled enough so that many of the soldiers will get back much before spring

I got Robbie Croft’s picture a few days agoa dn am sending you some. The one in the field where the cattle are was taken across the road from the house. He was not quite near enough to the camera when I took it for you, to tell who it is, but the one near the silo looks just like him. I haven’t heard yet whether he has gone across, but he expected to go soon, when he was home.

Quite a number will be in the next draft from Eldred. I don’t know just who. I suppose Raymond Myers will be one of them. But there isn’t much possibility of any of them getting to France. Jim Parker, being on the railroad, will escape being called. 

We are having some beautiful weather, but I suppose the winter will soon set in now.

I had a letter from Mrs. Carlin last week. They were all well, but dreading the winter. 

I can stand the winter better than I can the hot weather.

Lon had a letter from Dr. Austin a few days ago. Miss Hall had been quite sick, but was getting better.

We are all well and hoping that you are. If there is anything special you want, let me know so that I can send it when I send your Christmas.

With love,

Aunt Aida

Eldred, October 12, 1918

My dear Mac,

Just a few lines while I have time. I see in the papers in order to send a package to the soldiers that the soldier one sends the package to must first get a  label and send it ot the one he expects to receive ia package form. I hope you have sent yours before this as they claim no packages will be accepted without the labels in it, if you don’t get a Christmas package, it will be because we have received no label.

The Spanish Influenza is sweeping the country here, even our school is closed for awhile. No cases being nearer than Shohola, as we know of. We often wonder how you are and if you have escaped it; You must be careful and it is a worry to know at times. You must be in places where you can not be careful. We have a joke on Dad coming home from Monticello. He met a soldier who had been wounded in France and for a month had been in the hospital of Otisville. He was on his way home and Dad fell in with him at Port Jervis and became so interested that he was carried on beyond Shohola. The conductor was kind enough to slow the train down and let him off at Lackawaxen. 

I am afraid my pencil is so dim by the time this reaches you, you will not be able to read it. But Elizabeth is learning to  write with pen and ink. It is impossible to find a decent pen in the house. 

Willie is still working at Procters. Dad expects to work for John Love as some as he gathers his garden. 

Well I must close as Dad is going to the office. It has been over a month since we heard from you, so we are looking for a letter every day.

Love from all, Mother