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The Ralph Leland Goodrich Collection
Editors Note: The letter numbering as presented on this page coincides with the numbering scheme assigned to the letters housed in the Archives of the Arkansas History Commission. Only selected letters appear here which explains why some numbers are skipped. Some letters were only partially dated but I have been able to date them based upon the contents. As a result, some of the numbering is out of sequence but I felt it was important to present the letters in chronological order. Letter Number 85
Prof.
E. Wiedemann Dear
Sir, I
take this opportunity, through Morgan, to write to you. I am sorry that I did
not see you when you were up here. In the first place, as far as I am concerned
in this town, I am played out. Having been in a saloon has
irretrievably disgraced me, it seems, & people say that I will never be able
to do anything here again as a school teacher. Since I resumed teaching I have
been very abstemious in my habits, but it is no go; while Sauter, who shut up
his school & went on a three month’s [drinking] spree is not thought the
worse of. I
have five pupils only – not enough to pay the rent of the school room. And
being flat broke, & not knowing whence my subsistence is coming, I have come
to the conclusion to let the over pious people of Little Rock go and be damned,
& leave, if I can get anything to do anywhere else. If it be in your power
to render me any assistance, I shall be doubly thankful, such as finding me
something to do in With
my respects to Mrs. Wiedemann. I am ever, Yours respectfully, -- R. L. Goodrich
Letter
Number 86
Little Rock,
Arkansas Friend
Austin, I
am pleased to think that notwithstanding the almost chaotic confusion that has
existed for the past few years, the memory of each other has not been entirely
obliterated. I did not know for certain whether you were in Trumansburg or not,
or else I had written to you before. [My
cousin] Lucy Fiddis has ceased to correspond with me for some reason of which I
am not aware. When she wrote formerly to me if you had been to Owego, she would
mention it. Otherwise I hear nothing of you except when mother writes that you
have been at my Aunt Lucy’s. You
ask me to give you a summary of my adventures in the land once of waffles,
hoe-cake and hominy, but now snarlingly belligerent as a whipped cur.
I was out in the Rebel army because I could not help myself. Served as a
private for seven months [and] was in the retreat from
Bowling Green, Kentucky, to Nashville
and I
returned to this place and resumed my business of teaching. From that time I
managed to keep almost clear of the army, but one time when conscription was
getting too general and rigid, I was compelled to take shelter under a
Lieutenant’s commission in the Engineer’s Corps which had been previously
conferred upon me though I still kept on with my school. I was here when the
town was taken by the Union Army [in September 1863] and have been here ever
since except a month’s visit to Washington
in this state. I
received a letter from [Willoughby] Babcock when he was at New Orleans and with
it was an “order” or something else for me to report there for examination
for the position of a line officer in the Engineer Corps d’ Afrique. He wrote
that considering my education, & what he could do, it was the same as my
commission for a first Lieutenancy in that Corps. I was unwell and could not
accept. School
teaching got dull and I went into the mercantile business, made money,
speculated as all did, and lost it, as all did not. [I] bought cotton and did
not get for it what it cost and many other such idiotic speculations. Last
summer I was a clerk in the Freedman’s Bureau and I threw up my situation in
September to commence teaching again, flat broke and in debt. I have learned to
my sorrow and chagrin that I am no business man. Not the least of its
qualifications are my inheritance. Sometimes I regret that I did not accept the
offer of Babcock’s but I was so broken down by chills & rheumatism, the
legacies of confederate service, that I could not have stood camp life. The
same mail that brought your letter, brought one from Johnson, he had just got
his ticket to practice law from the Albany
Law
School. He wanted to know if Arkansas
would be a good theatre for a rising & young genius to display his
abilities in. He says he has learned something in the last six years. I hope he
has profited by it. As for myself, I have met with more success in teaching than
I possibly could hope for in the practice of law, and I have begun to think that
I am not fitted for that honorable calling, but much better for something else.
And what that something else is, for the life of me, I am unable to surmise. The
professions are now crowded by a set of ignorant interlopers who by a sort of
uncertain success are neither an ornament or a base disgrace to them. In this
country, a man’s learning and ability are measured by his success & if by
quacking & pettiforgery he can gain credit, it matters little whether he has
sound learning to back him. It is the knaves in every profession that has put
their learning down to the capacity of every fool. It is said that Tamerlane,
when disappointed and defeated, he retired to a secluded ruin. While there he
saw an ant endeavoring to carry its load up a wall, but before it could reach
the summit, the load dropped from its hold. Tamerlane counted 70 of these
efforts but at the last time the ant succeeded. The sight infused Tamerlane with
courage and resolution. Johnson, by digging away at law for the past six years
– rejected here, repulsed & laughed at there – has shown resolution to
get within the honorable precincts of the bar, if nothing further; enough
resolution for a greater man than he. But has he ability enough to carry him
through? It is well enough to talk of iron will. By beating a mule you can make
him pull more, but it does not do the mule any good. Quod erat demonstrandum
quoad Johnson. He may do tolerably well in the backwoods, but an illiterate
woodchopper may have solid sense enough to see the bottom of his well & how
little there is in it. I
have been a tolerably diligent student since I left home, but nary page of law
have I dipped into lately. I have read a great deal in languages. I have posted
myself a little. I could get along quite well in a settlement where nothing but
German was spoken, or French, or in Mexico
without an interpreter. Several subjugated Rebs who got recommendations from
Senor Romero at Washington [AR] for employment in the Mexican service have solicited my service to translate
their letters for them. They [hope to] get a situation in a foreign country,
then learn the language afterwards. In Hebrew I have just got so far as to be
able to decipher its goose-track alphabet. Latin & Greek I am beating into
young skulls everyday. But I see my short letter is extending beyond proper
bounds & hoping that you will not be offended with this egotistic letter
& that I will hear from you soon. I remain as ever, your sincere friend, -- R. L. Goodrich
Letter
Number 88
Little Rock
[Arkansas] Dear
Austin, I
received your letter some time ago, but have put off answering it until I had
more time, for that now is pretty well occupied. You may indeed accuse me of
fickleness, but I am – I believe – in the right this time. The school that I
have had here for nearly a year has scarcely supported me, scarcely furnished in
a decent manner my grub, and I began to be somewhat discouraged. I have been
looking out for several places in the State and corresponded with persons I knew
to see if I could get up a school this fall. I can get in two or three places a
permanent and a paying school. In order to keep me up, I have been copying for
lawyers and other persons – sometimes paid well, and sometimes otherwise. Some
nights I have made five & six dollars, but more often nothing. I got up the
city tax book for the Recorder. The total value of property being over three
million dollars in city, school, & railroad tax had [been] assessed &
carried out separately. It took me over a month to do it after school hours,
working all day Saturday & Sundays, & I received only ten dollars for
the job, which does well enough when we consider the giver was but a Dutchman.
Well it takes me a long time to come to my story. The
Clerk of the U.S. District & Circuit Courts for the Eastern District of
Arkansas is a New Yorker and Chas. P. Redmond by name. He needed a clerk and
took me. I have boys to recite to me in Latin in the morning before going to the
office and a young lady with more good lucks than brains to teach of any
evening, a middle-aged Italian to teach bookkeeping, and a bald-headed Irishman,
a stage struck youth, a would-be modern Rascins – the rival of the gnat of the
English & the American stage – to teach elocution; in other words, to have
him read Shakespeare with some degree of propriety. And out of the whole I shall
make enough to live and something besides I hope. So you see that I am pretty
busy and when Sunday comes, I feel like resting all day. Mr. Redmond said he
wanted me all the time and he thought he could be able to give me a better
salary after awhile. You know U.S. Clerks are permanent situations, and this of
mine may be. I have every opportunity to become acquainted with the practice in
these courts; treason, confiscation, admiralty, &c.
Redmond
has an office printing press and we do all our printing ourselves. In time, I
think I will make a good type setter or compositor. I am glad I got into this
clerk’s office. H. C. Caldwell is the District Judge. He was a Colonel in the
Union Army [3rd Iowa Cavalry] and formerly from Iowa. There has been a great deal of business in these courts since re-established,
and there will be more when this bankrupt law gets agoing. Johnson
was digging away from last accounts in My loving eyes have not as yet lit upon any of those delectable prizes of the softer humanity in uncontrolled admiration. I did see a woman once I liked probably well enough to marry, providin’ Burke’s was willin’, but I discovered she was already married. Dipping is carried on extensively. Thin carpets cut up into strips would make good plugs of chewing tobacco and could be sold as such. I never yet got so far as to picture that earthly paradise you speak of. In contemplation I never got beyond the terrible first question which was to be answered either yes or no, and consequently never peeped in upon the transcendent joys of the voluptuous or otherwise honeymoon. We are getting old to be shure as the Irishman says, and it is high time to be thinking of our own flesh and blood who are to come after us. It is true that man in his middle age, when his strength, intellectual, and physical is in its prime, can rear hardier and better children than in his youth or in his older age. And this reflection satisfies me. If I live, I intended to make a visit home next summer and I will see if I can persuade some one of the fair [sex] to link her fate with mine. I would not have any of them here. Those I could get, I would not have. And probably those I might want, I couldn’t get. Write
soon and believe me as ever your sincere friend. – Ralph L. Goodrich What has become of that young man from Geneva [Lewis Halsey] that enclosed a letter to me with yours? I wrote to him & requested him to send me a catalogue, but catalogue nor answer have I got. Charles P. Redmond was born about 1833 in Matinecock, Queens County, New York. His parents were James F. Redmond and Ann Browne. His wife's name was Amy, born about 1844 in Pennsylvania. In June 1860, Charles was working as a lawyer in Dubuque, Iowa; residing in the household of his father, a 60 year-old banker in Dubuque. At the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861, Charles served three months as a private in Company I, 1st Iowa Infantry -- a regiment that saw significant action at Wilson's Creek in Missouri. He is mentioned briefly in Banasik's book, "Missouri in 1861" (The Civil War Letters of Franc Bangs Wilkie) on page 15 wherein Wilkie writes on April 27, 1861 from Davenport, Iowa, "Yesterday our men had the pleasure of a visit from a large number of Dubuque gentlemen: Messrs. David S. Wilson, William B. Allison, D. N. Cooley, John David, Charley Redmond, J. L. Harvey, Col. Wilste, and others. It seemed almost like being home again..."
Charles Redmond's arrival in Little Rock is explained in the book, "The Southern States of America, Chapter III - Arkansas from 1861-1909." It reads, "In the year 1864, the Federal court was reestablished at Little Rock through the appointment, by President Lincoln, of Henry C. Caldwell, of Ot-tumwa, Iowa, as United States district judge for the eastern district of Arkansas, with Charles P. Redmond, of Dubuque, Iowa, as district attorney, Robert J. T. White, of Virginia, clerk, and W. O. Stoddard, of Missouri, marshall. Letter
Number 89
Trumansburgh, New York R.
L. Goodrich, Theta Delta Chi Dear
Brother, Your short but welcome letter was received a few months ago and I forwarded you a catalogue as per request. I will now endeavor to give you a little news concerning Theta Delta Chi. You enquired about Mr. [Henry] Handerson. I understand that he is now in New York City studying medicine. He with Robert Williams, T. I . Randolph, McKnew, Anisten, Hunter, and quite a number of men of [Theta Delta Chi] was in the Confederate army. Chester Roy died several years ago. Fred Tremaine was killed at [the Battle of Hatcher's Run] at the head of his regiment [-- the 10th New York Cavalry]. At commencement two weeks ago, although only two or three of
the graduates honored us with their presence, we had a pleasant reunion. President [Abner] Jackson has resigned the presidency [of Hobart College] and accepted an
election to the same office at Trinity
College, Hartford, Connecticut. Dr. Wilson will act as president until a new one is chosen. Our officers are:
President Lewis Halsey, Trumansburgh; Vice President, C. D, Eastman, Yours in [the brotherhood] – Lewis Halsey
Letter
Number 90 Owego
[New York] My dear Ralph, I was very glad to hear from you and that you were well and I hope doing well. Do you make more than your support? I think your clothes that we sent will be needed by you now if it is as cold with you as with us. But you are so much farther south that it cannot be such a winter day as it is here. It is Sunday. [Your sister] Sarah and I are keeping near the stove to keep warm. [Your brother] Stephen has gone on foot to Church. The ground is nearly covered with snow and it is blowing hard. And once in awhile, a snow squall, and then the sun shines. I believe I wrote you about the rain last Spring when we had so much rain. Since June, we have had but very little rain, and now we are suffering for the want of water. Our well is nearly dry. We can get about two quarts at a time, and that is muddy, and our cistern is dry. We have to draw water from the brick yard to use. And people think that winter has really set in, and if so, there will be a great deal of suffering here and all over the country for it is dry everywhere, we hear. The creeks are very low, but I believe the mills can grind yet here. But we hear that the mills have had to stop grinding in some places for [lack of] water. My foot has not got well yet but I go on it a good deal. We are going to butcher our hogs and a beef this week that will make work for us. I shall be glad when it is done as I always am. Do you keep hours and do the black women work for you? Black Lucy is very sick. Sarah went down to see her one day last week. She has the asthma consumption and they think she will not live long. Do they do any mending for you? How is your overcoat? Do you wear your woolen stockins? I am glad that times are better there. Did that Mr. [Charles H.] Cole know anything about your Uncle [Beach] in Cincinnati? Sister Mary writes that they do not like it there. Charles and Willie Johnson are sons of that Mr. Johnson that lived across from your Uncle Rutts and that used to get hickery nutts of us. Now the family have gone to Maryland to spend the winter. We hear that Willie is to be married there soon. Rupert says that John Goodrich and Jane Goodrich are to be married soon. Jane is Esquire Noah Goodrich's daughter. John can have Esquire [Judge] Noah marry them and he will not have to pay the minister. Jack and John are getting richer and tighter every year. Uncle Aner is failing, tiring his senses, and nearly helpless. Leland [Goodrich] and his wife work hard and are making something. They keep 12 or 14 cows and make butter. They have no children. They had one but she died. That farm of Mr. D. Taylors is sold again. Mr. George Truman has bought it for his second son William. Mr. William Stratton and wife have been down visiting. He called here but his wife did not. They staid the most of the time at Mr. Lyman Truman's in the village. It is nearly Christmas again and who will make you a Christmas present? Do you remember Fred Fox? He is dead. He was a telegraph operator in Ohio. He was brought home. I believe Mr. John Park is Mayor. He is in some city office and has a great salary. I do not know where James Fiddis is. [Your sister] Mary, [her daughter] Fanny, and [husband] Gurd [Horton] was up here yesterday. All send love. Goodbye. Write soon. Every your affectionate Mother [P. S.] Tom Page who used to be in G. B. Goodrich's store is sick with consumption. Footnotes to letter 90: Black Lucy probably refers to Lucy Miller, the only Black woman named Lucy who lived in Tioga, Tioga County, New York at the time of the 1860 U.S. Census. Lucy was born around 1810 in New York State. Letter
Number 91 Circleville,
Jackson County, [Kansas] My dear brother Ralph, It has been some time since I received your last letter and I have been waiting for more time to answer it, but it does no good. I keep just as busy as ever -- increasing cares take all my time. My family of six and company keep me very busy. But I want to hear from you and wish you would not wait so long for me. Ma wrote in her last that she had just heard from you. I was glad to hear you were well & hope you will have better health than formerly and better success in business. That will make you feel better I know. Ma had also heard from [our brother] James Goodrich. He was at Ellsworth a ways west of here on the railroad, cooking for a train and getting good wages. He was in Topeka the first of November and James was there awhile after he left so did not see him. Ma writes that Aunt Sarah Goodrich died at Stella's in November. She has been feeble for some time. Steve & Mary went to the funeral; none of the rest could go. Frank Platt is able to ride out but cannot walk. She is very feeble. She rides out often and calls on Ma. You know, I suppose, that Ma sprained her ankle some time ago & could not bear any weight on it for a long time. She is able to be about now. John Goodrich is waiting on Jane Goodrich, Noah's daughter. Ella Griffing is married to a Mr. Blackman. Mr. Crater died very suddenly. Mrs. Crater is also dead & Lonica too, and Sam is frail. William Taylor has a strange disease some of the time. He is a raving maniac. I do not know what they call it. He was conductor on the railroad. I see that Rev. Washington Gladden is a correspondent of the New York Independent. Who did he marry? Was it that Miss Cohoon? We all went to our place near Topeka in September during peach time. There were some fifteen or twenty bushels, I think. Can you find Topeka on your map? It is about twenty-five miles west of Lawrence on the south side of the Kansas River. Well we now live in Circleville, Jackson County -- about forty miles nearly north of Topeka and in the county adjoining Shawnee in which Topeka is. Lincoln [where we lived in 1864-6] & Seneca are about twenty-five north of here in Nemaha County, which county is one of the northern two bordering on Nebraska. There are but few maps that I have seen that anyone can find out anything about the towns. But they have sprung up so fast that maps cannot keep up with them. Topeka is growing very fast and they are improving it very much. It is bed time and [our son] John is teasing to go to bed & does not like very well to go alone. [My husband] James is gone & will be for a few days on his circuit. Write as often as you can. With much love. Ever your affectionate sister, -- J. A. Griffing [P. S.] James went into Missouri in November & brought some nice apples so it seems like old times. We have had a very pleasant fall & winter thus far.
Letter
Number 98 Owego
[New York] My
dear Ralph, We were glad to hear that you was well and doing something. We are usually well. Stephen and Sarah have gone to church. We have a new minister; his name is Wheeler. We think he is a good minister & I think all like him. The Methodists are going to build a new church [in] another year. They have bought a lot up near where Lawyer Tracy built his house and have given $3,500 for it. Tracy, Esq. could not live in Owego after he got moonstruck by moonlight in the army and he has sold out and gone to Brooklyn. And one of Taylor Ellis’s sons who married a railroad conductor’s daughter has bought it and lives there. You
would not hardly know Owego now. They put up a great many buildings last summer
and have commenced a good many this spring. [Your brother] Stephen furnishes
nearly all the sand. He has 4 horses and two wagons with sand boxes, and he drew
and had drawn last week over one hundred loads. Our teams draw 4 and 5 loads a
day apiece and he hired 3 other teams part of the time. He has several big jobs
of drawing and he gas to get it when they want it. And if his two teams cannot
get [it] fast enough, he has to hire teams. He has to keep 2 or 3 men in the
bank to screen sand and one team to scrape a good deal. We have had 3 men in our
family the last week besides Steve. Some of his men board themselves. Houk and
Keeler are masons and they have a good many of the big jobs. They get sand of
Stephen. Keeler has bought that lot where Levi Barns used to live and they made
brick there last summer and are making [it] now. They have commenced burning a
kiln. They have two machines on the lot. One is a two horse machine – they
grind with 2 horses. And one is a one horse machine. They employ a good many
men. They get there sand of Stephen. [Your
sister] Mary and [her husband] Gurd [Horton] was up yesterday. How do you like
[their daughter] Fanny’s photograph? [Your sister] Augusta and her family have
been sick since they went to I was reading in a paper that at Memphis the peach trees were in blossom some [time] ago and that they had radishes, lettuce, and peas in market. Our apple trees are just in bloom. We have had a backward spring. Write soon. From your ever affectionate mother, -- Mary A. Goodrich I met Editor [William] Smyth in town one day last week. He enquired about my runaway son. He said he would like to see you and wondered why you did not come home.
Letter
Number 99
Friend
Mike [Egan] The
cars came down yesterday and left. I shipped your trunk Sunday. The Captain said
it was not necessary to give a receipt for it and that it would go safely to
you. I succeeded in getting all your things in the trunk except a paper box. I
have tried again to get your books together, but it has been impossible. I
can’t find out anything from Lee or his wife – both are drunk & fighting
most of the time. I hope your books will go safely. I should have liked to read
some of your books but I have been so busy that I have had no time to open a
book. I don’t know what to think of your case in bankruptcy. I can’t, from
my position, attend to it as you desire. If I did meddle in that way, I would
get a cussing from the judge. No news about town. Hoping to hear soon. I am as ever your sincere friend, -- R. L. Goodrich
Letter Number 100
Little Rock
[Arkansas] Charles
P. Redmond, Esq. My
dear friend: I
received your letter Thursday night which had long been expected. I was glad to
hear that you were getting along so well in respect to your health. I have been
depositing all the money that has been coming in, and when your letter was
received my bank was completely drained, though I have partly paid
Pullan & myself, probably shall be able to do so this week. Bishop started
yesterday for New York & Yale to be gone several weeks. An involuntary case
in bankruptcy came in from Helena. I sent the lawyer to the Springs to see the judge for the order. He wanted the
order to show cause “warrant to Marshal” and “Injunction” issued at the
same time. I did so & took them to Judge Rose. He said they were right &
Chief Justice Chase couldn’t do better.” We have been hammering away at
bankruptcy – almost enough of it to keep Pullan busy all the time. I have the
judgment dockets nearly completed. I haven’t had to print anything. I cut up
the manila paper except ten sheets & had them printed, divided amongst the
different blanks. We were only 390. I think you had better get some more. Send
me some ribbon. The last monthly account of Bliss was $93.02. I have deposited
in bank to your credit $315.67. Do you get the Little Rock
papers I sent you? …Cole
and Mills went to the [Hot] Springs last week [but] haven’t returned yet. I am
going to put up a palacio-shanty on my suburban farm which a fellow says he will
do and take my time to pay him in 2, 3 or five years. Pullan was ailing all last
week & I wasn’t in the best physical condition either. You saw the notice
of Sauter’s death – cut down in his youth overwhelmed by the weight of
family troubles & the spirited gravity of 2 quarts whiskey. Yours sincerely, -- R. L. G.
Letter
Number 111 Owego
[New York] My
dear Ralph, I
received yours yesterday. I also received one from [your sister] Augusta
yesterday and one from [her husband] James Griffing last week. He has sold your
brother’s land [in Kansas] for $1,000. I have to send him power of attorney to sell it. He thinks that a
good price for it. It is not the best land there. The man that he sold it to
pays $100 down and all in 2 years. Ralph,
you know I do not want you to go to New Orleans
or Texas
and have always said so to you. I do not want you to go any farther south. You
know it was so long before you got into any paying business after you left
teaching that I thought that when you had got into good business you would keep
your place as long as you could. We all want to see you and Jenny but is it
worth while to come on here and go back and spend so much money? If you was sure
of getting into good business, I would want you to come by all means. I do not
want you to stay where you are not well. I want to do all I can fer your good,
and I want you to do so too. I do not want you to be offended at what I write. I
am not worth minding. I do not intend to write anything to offend you. Owego
is getting to be a very bad place. We have a set of bad men or boys around us.
Every week we have thieves and house burners around. Last week someone tried to
burn Mr. Bristol’s new Foundry up. The fire was seen and put out before it did
much damage. They have watchmen all over the village but almost every night we
hear of someone’s house being broke into or trying to be. Last Friday night,
Ike Willsey, a constable, and Tim Robertson, a police, were near Mr. [George]
Fritcher’s [grocery] store. Ike caught a man trying to get into the store. Ike
was heard to say, “I have caught you and I know you...give up,” but he did
not, but shot Willsey and Willsey shot Bowers. They both shot twice & both
died. Bowers is 18 years old. They took him to his father’s but they would not
have him brought in and they took him to the Court House, and the town buried
him yesterday afternoon. Willsey’s funeral is today at the Baptist
Church
at 3. They have taken up between 14 & 20 boys concerned in this business
and they think this Bowers is the one that set fire to the Bridge Shop. And if
he was the one and they had caught him, he would have been strung up in quick
time. I believe I have written to you since the bridge shop was burned. It threw
so many men out of employment. Did
I write you Mr. Charles Platt died? He died the 19th of June. William Platt has
gone to New York
[City] and is clerk in the same store that his father was part owner of.
Francis Platt is able to ride out but does not set up much and does not walk
much. They ride over here quite often. Your Aunt Fanny has been quite unwell
with rheumatism. She went home with I don’t know as I wrote you anything about Burr Pearsall. He married Sarah Taylor, only daughter of John J. Taylor. Burr’s father built him a nice house [in Hooper’s Valley] and they went down there to live. She had a baby and as soon as she was able to go home, Mr. & Mrs. Taylor went down and had her and ______________ brought home. She only lived a few weeks and her babe lived a week after its mother died. Her death was put in the paper. Sarah Taylor was only daughter, &c., &c. [Affectionately, -- Your Mother]
The description of the burglaries occurring in Owego NY are corroborated by the following newspaper articles: 1 The Evening Gazette, Port Jervis, NY, Saturday, July 17, 1869 BURGLARY AT OWEGO LAST NIGHT -- ONE OF THE BURGLARS AND A POLICEMAN SHOT AND KILLED Special
Dispatch to the Evening Gazette. Last night about midnight, policeman Wilsey discovered a party of burglars, endeavoring to break into Pritchard's [Fritcher's] store, at the rear of the building. Wilsey rushed up to the party, and arrested one of the burglars, exclaiming, as he seized him, "I have got you now." Just then he was shot, receiving two wounds, one in the head and the other in the shoulder. After he was himself shot he drew his revolver and fired at one of the burglars. He then came from behind the store out on Main Street, and met another policeman there, to whom he said, "I am shot." His comrade took him by the arm and led him across the street to his house, where he fell dead on the door-step. At daylight this morning the dead body of a young man named George Bowers, one of the burglars, was found about forty feet from the place of the encounter. Bowers lived in Owego, and was a well-known desperate character, having served one or two terms in prison at Rochester. 2 The Evening Gazette, Port Jervis, NY, Tuesday, July 20, 1869 THE OWEGO TRAGEDY -- ADDITIONAL PARTICULARS -- ARREST OF A GANG OF DESPERADOES We have the following additional accounts in our exchanges of the tragedy at Owego on Friday night last. About one o'clock Saturday morning, as officer Isaac Wilsey, of Owego, was patrolling his beat along North Avenue, Owego, he detected the operations of burglars about Fritche's store. He boldly encountered them and used his revolver freely, in his endeavor to effect arrests. In turn he received two shots, and not knowing the extent of his injuries, he judged it best to go for help. Taking a few steps he met Chief-of-Police Robertson, and giving him the information, requested the Chief to assist him home, as he felt he was badly hurt. The Chief accompanied and supported him towards his residence, but upon reaching the door steps, he fainted and immediately died. From information soon gained, the police were able to make the following arrests -- Kendall, Doty, Hyde, and a fourth man, name not known, and all employees, we believe, in the Bristol Iron Works. These are now in the Owego jail. The evidence against these is ample to convict. The fifth accomplice, by the name of Bowers, was found partially hidden behind a dry goods box, at the back of A.D. Ellis's garden. He had died from the effects of the shots of Policeman Wilsey. It is supposed now, that the same gang were engaged in the attempt to burn the Bristol Iron Works during the present week. They had entered the oil cellar, sprinkled shavings over the barrels, opened a faucet from which oil was running and set fire to the shavings. This was timely discovered by the night watchman, who summoned assistance and put it out. Such a gang of desperadoes has not infested Owego since the fires were set, that nearly consumed the business portion of the village. Of course the greatest feeling of indignation prevails among the people, who are almost ready to lynch the prisoners. The family of the murdered policeman receives the wide spread sympathies of all, in their sad and terrible bereavement. Later accounts say that a coroner's inquest was in session yesterday, and facts of great importance are being brought to light. Some ten or twelve arrests have been made, and without doubt the gang of incendiaries and burglars which has heretofore escaped detection, will be brought to speedy justice. 3 The Evening Gazette, Port Jervis, NY, Tuesday, July 27, 1869 THE OWEGO TRAGEDY -- ARREST OF BURGLARS AND THIEVES The judicial investigation into the affair of the murder of policeman Wilsey and the shooting of the burglar Bowers, has resulted in some important developments in regard to the operations of the gang of burglars and thieves who have been depredating in that village and vicinity to an alarming extent for more than a year past. The evidence brought out at the inquest implicate two young men named T. Baker and Wm. H. Kendall, and a woman named Mary Brink -- the latter as a receiver of stolen property. A large amount of valuable goods -- proceeds of the sundry burglaries and robberies in which the prisoners have been engaged -- were found in their trunks. Among those who identified property which had been stolen from them were Hollenbach & Sons, A.B. Bissell, E. Andrews, John McNeil, and M. Hiersteiner.
Letter
Number 112 North
Lawrence [Kansas] Dear
Brother Ralph, Your
letter of June 28th reached me in due time. I was glad to hear from you again,
but sorry to hear you were not feeling well – and also that I should not see
you this summer [when I return home to Owego, New York]. I felt in hopes we could have a
good visit together but I do not blame you for holding to the situation as long
as you can have it at that salary if the climate &c. agrees with you. Your
board is not any higher that would be here in the large towns of Kansas. But if you were housekeeping, it would not cost more than $30.00 a month. I do
not think, with economy of course, for provisions for yourself and wife –
which you say you now pay for board & washing – you ought to lay up money.
With six of us in the family & considerable company, our expenditures for
provisions, clothing, & all are not over $700.00 a year. But we are not
extravagant. [We] have had to economize ever since we have been in Kansas
and will have to awhile longer I expect. Our
farm [half-way between Topeka and Tecumseh] is rented for the next five years
for improvements so that we get no benefit of it – only the improvements are
increasing the value of the place. And if there is fruit, we get one third of
it. The farm is now worth $6,000.00 but we do not wish to sell, although he has
had a number of applications. If you had a few sections of land here &
should get some improvements put on them, you could sell them well and make
money. A great many hundreds have flocked into Kansas
this season. I presume more than any other, and we are having railroads built
& it will soon be a great state, we think. We
own a few acres of land near I
think of starting for Owego about the 4th or 5th of August if we keep well. The
children have all had the measles & been quite sick. And some of them are
not very well now. Neither are James & myself well. He looks & feels
bilious & I had a light chill yesterday. I think perhaps the change will do
me good. We have had a great deal of rain & great floods destroying many
lives & much property. And I think there will be a great deal of sickness
before winter. James is not going with us and I fear he will get sick. In my last letter from home, Ma wrote that all were usually well. They had rain very often making it bad for harvesting & haying. I presume Ma has written you that Charles Platt is dead. Aunt Lucy Berry fell just before the 4th inst. & broke her arm, but it is doing very well. There have been a great many fires & houses broken open in Owego of late & one of the gang was killed last week, but he killed the constable too. Ma says on some streets they dare not all go to bed. But I must close, hoping to hear from you soon. If I felt quite sure of going, I would say direct [your next letter to me] to Owego, care of Ma to be put in Box 388. I hope you will not get sick. I hope [your wife] Jennie is better pleased with the country. That you will do well & both be happy is my wish for you. With much love. Ever your affectionate sister, --
Letter Number 114 United
States Marshal's Office Dear Ralph, Yours from Memphis rec'd and I hope you will convince [your wife] Jennie that she will never regret the new state in which she entered. [My wife] Lizzie will write today. Your idiotic prank has caused somewhat of a stir and the Nigger portion of your late family have raised Hell here, followed me all over town with a big negro policeman, and had been to see [my wife] Lib when I got home and she stood in the door at the house with my derringer and gave the "nigs" a minute to leave, which they did. I gave them the things and they have not bothered me since. I want you if Robert's place is not for sale, to see and get a description of places for sale on the hill, terms and prices, acres and improvements. I do this because Lizzie will leave here in November with me for home and ere I get there I desire to purchase so Jennie and her can live together and be company in their widowhood. Keep this letter quietly to yourself, make all inquiries as for yourself, and be sure and look well for me. See DeMar, John Rawlings, and Elias Muchman of Madison -- Ambrose Flinn and others who know about places. N. S. Armstrong at Pineville may tell you something. Now keep quiet and all will be well. Yours, -- Charles H. Cole
Letter
Number 115
September
4, 1869 My
Dear Ralph, I
am almost ashamed to answer your letter at this late date but for the past month
I have been so busy that I have written to no one. Your
history during and since the war is very interesting, especially as showing how
victorious Mars at last yields to the smiles of peaceful Venus. I suppose it is
not too late to congratulate you on your silken chain and to wish you health,
happiness, prosperity and posterity. My
own history may be summed up in few words. I enlisted in ’61 and served
faithfully through the war, coming up from enlisted man to Captain & Asst. Adjutant
Gen. of one of the Louisiana
brigades (“ As
to domestic life, I have none. I am entirely single, poor, and rapidly growing
old – these conditions which by no means favor domesticity. Fortunately I have
a brother who is continuing the family name, or it would stand a fair chance to
finish from off the face of the earth. But I keep up good courage, and hope when
my hair is gray to have the memories of life. I read the classics occasionally,
medicine semi-occasionally, and practice when an opportunity offers. Such is my
life. I
don’t know but that you will have sold out and left for the North before this
letter reaches you. If so, I hope to have a call from you ‘ere long. McDonald
is practicing law in the city & is doing well. Harry Baldwin is also in the
city, but I learn has become blasé and a confirmed drunkard. I have never met
him since we graduated [from Hobart
College]. Barclay is practicing medicine in Minnesota, I believe. Cheney is in trouble at
Chicago. Lew Moss is in business in Detroit.
Hobart
College
seems in a rapid decline and expects a new
President every year. The Theta Omega Chi fraternity, however, appears to be
doing as well as to be expected and was quite prominent at the last convention.
Let me hear from you and of your whereabouts and prospects. My kindest regards
to “sister Jennie” of Ohio
(my native state).
Letter
Number 116 Owego
[New York] My
dear children, Yours
was received yesterday when I was looking for you to come on the cars. I am
disappointed. I was in hopes that you would come. Our house is pretty full but
we would have made room for you. Well, we hope to see you sometime. And if you
come to Cincinnati
and have a home there and do well, I think you will come here and we shall go
and see you. Mr. Bristol, our nearest neighbor, has a son in Cincinnati. His name is W. H. Bristol, and I suppose you have a cousin by the name of [Orlando]
Saltmarsh. I believe he is in a Telegraph Office. I
am glad that you are enjoying your visit and that you are having a rest, and
have plenty of fruit. I would like some of your peaches. We have a few pears
this summer. Peaches are $3.50 to $4.00 per bushel. We have apples but the
grapes will not ripen. We have had a cold summer and cool nights now, and will
probably have frosts soon. [Your
brother] Stephen is not doing as much business this summer as he did last
summer. He has one hired man and a boy. He keeps 5 horses with Prince. One we
call Bess has been lame nearly all summer. She is getting better. We have 6 cows
and it is hard to do the work for so many. We have a girl we have taken. She
helps us a good deal. [Your sister] Sarah is not very well this summer. The reason [your sister] Mary did not write was because she was not here that day. She and [her daughter] Fanny come up quite often. Yesterday [your sister] Augusta and I went down to Leland’s and made a visit. Lee works hard and is not very well and begins to look old. His wife is a smart, profitable woman. I believe I have written so before. Little
Maty Griffing [Augusta's daughter] has been quite sick with fever but is getting
better. I
write this to Jenny as well as yourself and hope you will both write before you
leave for Little Rock. Please excuse this. I am not feeling verry well, or do not feel like writing. I
am your affectionate mother. Ralph, I am very glad that you are married. You have someone to care for you and if you are sick that will care for you. And I hope you will make her a good husband. Be kind and pleasant if you want a good wife. I hope you will always be happy is the prayer of your mother. Write us again before you go back [to Little Rock] and after you get back.
Letter
Number 118
Dear
Sister & Brother, After
waiting more than a week to get everything ready that we want to send you &
this morning finding that it will take a day or two yet I have concluded to
write & let you know that we are still in the land of the living &
enjoying good health, but such awful weather – rain, snow & mud, then rain
again. And Painesville
is the same old place. We have been visiting Lewis. All quite well but Lew, and
he is better. I hear that Nellie’s family are well & we expect them down
Christmas. Jennie, you must not get homesick. Charlie will be in Little Rock
in February & then if you feel like coming home, why not come in March? But
you must let me know before he starts for we want to send you some things by
him. You will find enough new ticking in the box to make new pillows for the
others are awful dirty. I
hope that our place is sold soon for we are anxious to buy the Norcross Place. Cincinnati
is running over with Christmas fixing. We will send you something. I hardly
know what yet but we will make them. I have a sewing machine & 3 new
dresses. I will send you a piece when I cut them out. Charlie got Sallie Hughes
a 2 ct of yard dress yesterday it is double width will send you a piece &
the children …. Ralph,
if you were here you could be yourself rich in a little time. Several large
stores are selling out & there is plenty of small farms for sale. When you
sell your place, you will have no trouble finding another up here & all are
anxious for you to settle here. You seem to be quite a favorite. Ralph, Charlie
says there is 7 acres adjoining the Norcross Place opposite Varney’s belonging
to an Armstrong girl that can be bought cheap & if you want it & will
hurry up the men about selling ours, he will buy it & keep it for you &
the Norcross house is large so that if you wish to send Jennie home next summer,
it will be for all & then we can be near neighbors. Lew’s family all think
it would suit you better than H. Finches & in 2 or 3 years with Father help
you could have it as nice as any of them. Now I will quit for this time &
write again soon & I wish to hear from you often. Give my kind regards to
all my friends. Carrie sends love to both of you & also a kiss. Charlie &
I send love & remain as ever your loving & well wishing brother &
sister. --
Charlie & Lizzie Cole [P.S.] Jennie, I think I lost my silver breastpin in room 4 [at the] Anthony House [in Little Rock]. Please describe it to Ralph & get him to enquire of Mr. Henry if such has been found & you will greatly oblige, -- Lizzie Cole
Letter
Number 129 Owego,
[New York] My dear children, Yours was received in due time and as I have just written my weekly letter to [your sister] Augusta, I will commence writing to you, and may finish it if I am not too tired. We are having snow – snow nearly all the time. We have had rather a stormy winter. In the fall and first of winter, we had rain – rain nearly every day – and everyone was wishing for snow. Now it has commenced to snow, it snows. And when it commences to thaw, if we should have a hard rain, we shall have a flood. I dread the spring freshets. The
men that are at work on the new railroad are still getting gravel from [your
brother] Stephen’s sank bank. They have uncovered considerable sand for him,
but there is not much market for sand now. There is not much building going on
as yet except the new Methodist
It is the 13th [of March] today. 15 years ago today, [your brother] James first left home for Kansas. Your Aunt Mary is no better and may not ever be. They take her up and set her in a chair and then she can put her food to her mouth. They have to be up with her considerable nights. She cannot move in bed much and it is a good deal to take care of her. Mr. Burt, your old teacher, is dead. He died of consumption. He was in the grocery business. He took colds – one after another – and it seated on his lungs. He had quick consumption. Stephen says the last time he saw him, he enquired about you. Your Aunt Lucy [Fiddis] has rented her house and is getting ready to go to Galesburg as soon as she can. Have I written to you that [her son-in-law] John [Griffith] has had a call to San Francisco to preach, that John has and wants to go. [He will] start by the 28 of this month, but he wants your Aunt to get there [to Galesburg] before he goes. They have offered him 4000 dollars in gold a year and more if he thinks that is not enough and to bear his expenses going and coming, and they can all go the way of the railroad. [Your cousin] Lucy is going to board at Mrs. Studman’s. It will be farther for her to walk to [her] school, but if she feels well, it will not be far. What county is Little Rock in? We do not know much about your [old] friends. Stephen says he thinks Johnson is in Chicago. They are married and gone from here, the most of them. I have had 2 or 3 letters from Glastonbury [Connecticut] lately. My Uncle Noah Tryon, my mother’s brother, is dead. He was 83 years old and a grandchild of his died a week before he did. Carry’s father and mother was here last winter on a visit. Carry died the same day of the month they started to come here, just one year before. [Your
mother, -- Mary Ann Goodrich] Letter
Number 130 Owego
[New York] My Dear Children, I owe each of you a letter and will answer both in one. We are very glad to hear from you and hope you will write often to us. The last 2 or 3 weeks have been rather exciting ones. First, we had such a deep snow – 3 feet deep – and when it began to melt the water was so deep in the roads, and it came round cold and we had another foot of snow. It has nearly all left us now. We can see a few snow drifts and we have not had a high freshet. We moved everything out of our cellar that we could, but it was only a foot deep. It has been very bad traveling. Your Aunt Lucy [Fiddis] has broke up housekeeping and has been here part of the time and in the Village. [Your cousin] Lucy is going to board with Mrs. Steadman and your Aunt is there some of the time. Lucy has been teaching the last week. The week before she bought a ticket for her mother to Quincy [IL] and can sell it at Galesburg for a few dollars and got it cheaper there than she could have bought it here. I do not know the reason that [your cousin] Lucy does not write to you, but think perhaps she does not have time. She likes to hear from us about you. Your Aunt Lucy Berry is very low, if living. She had a stroke of palsy last week and has had no use of her left side since. And yesterday her right side was getting numb. She is 82 years old. Her second daughter Eliza, who married a Mr. Vandenburg, is a widow and is living with her. We have heard that Esq. [Nathaniel] Davis is not doing much business. He has been quite unwell all winter and thinks he is not going to live long. Did I write you Esq. Sweet died very sudden a year ago? That may have some effect on Davis. [Your cousins] George & Edwin Stratton have a store with Dr. Stansborough in the hardware business. I thought I had written you about this new railroad. I believe it is called the Southern Tier. It is finished from Owego to Auburn. Several trains go out every day on that road. I do not know how far south it is going. It goes through our lot this side of the other road and it takes 2 acres. They pay 200 dollars an acre. They have dug a ditch each side through our lot to raise the track, and have taken a great deal of gravel from [your brother] Stephen’s sand bank to make the road. We have one of Lew Brinks’ girls living with us. She has been here 2 years and is good help for us. She is nearly 14 years old. I expect to have her stay till she is 18 years old, if I live so long. [Your brother] Stephen has bought a house and lot on Talcott Street. [He] paid 1000 dollars for it. He bought it to get his pay of a man that was owing him 3 or 400 dollars, and I have let him have the 400 I got of the railroad to help him pay for it. [Your sister] Mary and her family were here yesterday. She has a very pretty babe. He is 5 months old. She says he carnt be beat. He is so good natured, he hardly ever cries. Ralph, do you read a good deal and what do you read? What new books have you? Stephen gave [your sister] Sarah Vashti [or "Until Death Us Do Part"] by Miss Augusta Evans [for] Christmas. Have you ever read it? Did you ever read Sydnie Adriance; Or, Trying the World, [by Amanda M. Douglas] -- that Lucy book. It is very good. The last 2 weeks we have had two papers from you – weeklies. I noticed a piece in one on Woman’s Rights. I thought it very good, signed by Jenny. I will send last week’s [Owego] Gazette to you with this. In our big snowstorm, [your cousin] George Stratton started out for a ride on the cars on the new road. It snowed when he started but he did not think it would snow much. He was gone 2 days & 2 nights and did not go very far either. He wrote a piece for the Times. I have cut it out of Lee’s paper and will send it in this. Sarah has sent Jenny a tidy in a large envelope. Have you received it? Do you remember [your cousin] Jamie Goodrich? He made us a short visit a week or two ago. He is what they call a drummer. He is employed by the firm of Day, Bliss & Dean, Manufacturers of Jewelry, chains & bracelets. He travels 3 weeks in 4. Has all this state except Utica. He is married to Mary [Palmer] Sherman of Norwich. This new railroad is called the New York Southern Central. It comes from Sodus Bay on Lake Ontario and goes to Waverly & connects with the Towanda road and the coal region. Your Aunt Lucy came over from church with Stephen and staid till evening when Stephen took her and her trunk over. She will start Tuesday morning. I have written you that Rev. John Griffith, [your cousin] Anna’s husband, has received a call to San Francisco and has gone to see how he likes it. He left Galesburg 2 weeks ago today and arrived there Saturday. On the way he wrote 2 letters to [your Aunt] Lucy and wrote every day to Anna. He had a pleasant trip. They offered him 4000 dollars in gold and to have his expenses going and coming. He has been there 2 Sundays. He expects to be 5 or 6 weeks and if they go, your aunt will too. Your Aunt [Lucy] Berry was alive yesterday. With love to the both of you. I am, your affectionate Mother.
Letter
Number 132 Owego
[New York] My dear children, I have been expecting a letter from you a long time, but as none has come I will write today. [Your sister] Sarah received one from Jenny and has been saying she must answer it, and she will as soon as she thinks she can, but it takes her a long time sometimes to get ready to write. And in the spring of the year, there is so much to do, and we are having considerable company. They commenced cleaning one of the back chambers Friday and before noon we had company – a cousin came and staid till this morning. She has now gone to Leland Goodrich’s & when they commenced cleaning the front chamber they had company before they got finished up. They have 3 or 4 rooms more to clean before they get through. And then there is so much to do outdoors among the flowers and shrubbery. We have not had but very little warm weather yet [and] are having a backward spring. [Your cousin] Lucy [Fiddis] has not been over here since her mother went away and she has not had but one letter from her or [her sister] Anna. [Anna's husband,] Mr. Griffith was expected a week ago last Saturday. She ought to hear from them. We do not know whether he is going to San Francisco or not, but hope not. He would get more money there but it is called a hard place. If they go, I should not ever expect to see your Aunt Lucy again. Aunt
Ruth is very sick – Jack’s mother. She was taken a week ago Sunday morning.
She has had some kind of a fit. Mr. & Mrs. Lyman Truman have gone on a
pleasure excursion west. Emily Gere said last week that she expected they were
in [Your cousin] George Stratton went out to his father’s to spend the Sabbath a week ago yesterday. His sister Nancy that married J. Van Kirk has a son. They have been married nearly or quite 15 years and this is there first baby. His father is very poorly. They did not think he would live the week out last week. He has had one fit and I don’t know but more. [Your cousin] David [Stratton] has moved up to Newfield Village and [his brother] Willber works the farm. David & his wife have been quite unwell all winter. They have had rheumatism and Uncle William [Stratton] has been lame so that he has had to have one crutch and a cane to get round in the house. Your Aunt Lucy Berry died about 2 weeks ago. She had a bout of paralysis and was confined to her bed 3 or 4 weeks. Their daughter Eliza came on and took care of her and is staying with Frank keeping house for him. [Your
sister] Mary and her children were here Saturday. We did not get a letter from
[your sister] If I could get to the [Owego] village, I would get some flower seeds for you, Jenny. We have two teams but one team has to work all the time and the other Prince is lame and Grey has a colt. So we cannot drive either. We receive the Weekly Republican every week. I think it comes from the Office or do you send it? Who is it that writes the pieces signed by Jenny? It is a good paper. I have sent you several [Owego] Gazettes. Do you get them? I sent one with the death of your Aunt Lucy Berry. I will send last weeks. I hope you are both well. All join in love to you. From your affectionate Mother. Good-bye.
Letter
Number 133 May 23, 1870 Dear sister & brother, I sit down this P.M. to answer yours of the 15th that we received today….You say you bet I never saw so many darkies as went to the picnic but I’ll bet I did. I was in the city [of Cincinnati] when they had their jubilee over the 15th Amendment. I stood on 4th Street & it took the procession 2 hours to pass where I stood & I never saw a nicer sight – the prettiest large wagons all trimmed of so nice & such good mottoes. The wagons were full of girls & boys & just as pretty Goddesses of Liberty as you ever saw. But enough on the darkie question. Willie was with me. I
am glad to hear you & Ralph are getting along so well but I do hope you both
will be satisfied with Little Rock
& leave there this fall, never to go back there anymore now. I don’t
understand who it is that likes to stay there, Ralph or Charley [Cole], but I
suppose it is Charley by Lew’s letter. Sometimes I think Lizzie ought to know
how he is doing if she would only believe it. Sometimes she don’t hear from
him for two weeks. He says there is no news to write. And since she said she had
a great mind to give Ralph the power of attorney to sell her place, I am afraid
if he ever gets her money in his hands she will never see it. And then Father
will have to work & support her & it is enough for him to support
himself. But we will wait a little to see what he does. In his last letter to
her, he said if he didn’t get the office of Well Jennie, I wouldn’t care about being down there if you have such shakings of the earth as you tell about. If I had thought about it, I would have sent you a calico dress in that box but I didn’t go to the city & I couldn’t think of anything else to send. I am very anxious to hear how the things went through. I do hope the butter kept all right but I expect it was like oil when you got it. 1 gallon of that wine that Charley gets is for you & if you want more, Lew will send it to you by express. It is $1.75 cts a gallon. I think you will like it. Charley Metts is married. He married a girl up where they used to live. Her name is Anna Burgher. Well I have to quit for want of room to write & this is the last sheet. Julia says she will write the last of the week & tell you the rest of the news as I haven’t room. I hope this may find you well. -- C. Finch
Letter
Number 135 Owego
[New York] My dear Ralph & Jenny, We received yours mailed May 31st Friday and the one mailed June 3rd yesterday. I am very glad that Jenny has got along so well and is comfortable. Now she must be very careful about taking cold. I hope you have a good nurse and she will have good care. I suppose a boy would have suited Ralph better, but you will have to take them as they come, as everybody does, and be satisfied if they are proper children [and] not deformed. Now, after the babe is a few weeks old, you will not have so much time. But you will have something else to look to and amuse yourself with. I
suppose you have had very dry weather. They are fearful that they in Kansas
are going to have another draught. [Last spring,] James [Griffing] took nearly
a half bushel of Maple seeds to plant out in Kansas. I think Jenny’s sister is very kind. Did she send the box by express? Your family, I think, will be much more expensive now than before the baby came so I fear you will not lay much by. I think you have a great number of books. [Your cousin] Lucy sends her love to you. She says she does not get much time to read, and when she does, [she does] not read light reading such as novels &c. She thinks you have a good collection and she would like to read some of them. And you have some very costly, that would be costly here. The paper did not come last week but I suppose there is reason for that. You had other business to attend to of more importance. Do
you remember that Mr. Daniel ______ that used to be with Mr. Thurston though
lately he has been with with Mr. Moses Kustines [?] in his meat market? He is to
be buried this afternoon. He died Friday morning. Rev. George Worthington’s
mother died last Saturday morning. She was taken to Jenny, you must be very careful about getting cold, about using any damp cloths about yourself. I hope your babe will be good. If it is quiet, let her be. Keep her as still as you can. [Ralph's sister] Mary’s babe is so quiet and is good. He hardly ever cries. They were not up here last week. [Her husband] Gurd [Horton] is not very well. They do not hardly ever go to church and Mary does not go anywhere but up here. She has a horse that she and [her daughter] Fannie drives. She comes up holding her baby Fred and Fanny holding the lines and Fannie says, “Grandma, I drove all the way up here.” They are building a Methodist church here and [your brother] Stephen has got the job of getting the [sand]. He has got over two hundred loads now. It is a brick church. He has 2 hired men – Charlie Cortright and Hiram Goodrich now. Charlie hauls sand mostly all the time. The other team has to work on the farm and draw sand too. [Your
affectionate Mother] Dear Brother & Sister, Please accept my congratulations on the addition to your family. Hope you are all doing well. What do you call the “young female?” We would like to see it and you too very much. You must write us. Yours in haste, but in love, -- Sarah
Letter
Number 136
My dear brother & sister, Perhaps you may think I do not care very much about my little niece that I hear is in your possession as I have not written you since hearing of your good fortune. But I have been uncommonly busy with either hired man, or company, so that I really have not found time – unless in the middle of a hot day when I could not write to anyone. I felt very sorry to hear sister Jennie was not getting along very well but hope ‘ere this she is around in health helping with her dear little daughter. I hope she may be spared to be a great comfort to you both. Who does she look like & what shall you name her? What day of the month was she born? I expect you feel very rich now. We are a small family now for two days back. Some friends from Junction City made us a visit last week & took [our son] John home with them to stay a few days. And we have no hired man [at present] so we are only four. And yesterday, [my husband] James was gone to his appointments & did not get back until today. We have had a very dry summer here around Manhattan, a few miles square, but elsewhere they have had timely rains. But last night we had a good, thorough rain – a heavy thunder shower lasting a good part of the night & doing a great deal of good. Everything was parched & dried up, gardens were doing nothing, and farmers were clear discourage. But things look brighter today. At Junction [City] where we used to live & only 22 miles west of here, they have had plenty of rain & it is so elsewhere. It is vacation now [at the Kansas State Agricultural College] until the first week of September. The examination was quite interesting. The Commencement Exercises of course were not as large a scale as those of older colleges, but were a credit to those who took a part. It is quite healthy here at present and we keep usually well. [Our daughter] Mary run a thorn (osage) in her heel & that is swollen & troubles her & she is complaining of it tonight. I have poulticed it & hope it will be better in the morning. I suppose Ma keeps you posted with regard to Owego news. The last letter said all were usually well. I suppose she wrote that your Charlie Platt was dead. [He] died just about a year after his father. He was a very promising boy. Mrs. Mary, Marguerite’s only daughter Kate was married a short time after Charlie’s death. I suppose it must have been a grand wedding as both families are very wealthy. Uncle William Stratton does not get any better & is quite a great deal of trouble. Write as often as you can – both of you. Kiss the baby for Augusta. With much love to you both. Ever your affectionate sister, -- J. Augusta Griffing
Letter
Number 139
Little Rock, Arkansas Dear sister Christiana, Yours of July 20th I have just taken from the office & I answer before Jennie has read it because the mail goes out tomorrow morning. I have been sick nearly a week. Have you received my letter telling about the Spring? That woman has been at Cole’s house several times since, remained there one night at least. I saw either [Charlie's 28 year-old brother] Al[bert], or Charlie kiss her. I don’t see him making any preparations to go the 1st of August. Jennie is sick yet. He breast is rising again & she is troubled a great deal with the cholic & diarhora (that word is not spelled right, but never mind). Jennie has come to the conclusion that she can’t get well here & so have I. We intend to leave as soon as we can. I will be obliged to sacrifice my place. What does Lib say of Cole after hearing his excuses? Cole writes the way he does, I believe, to get you to coax her away from this place. She makes at least one too many here for his good. I will have Jennie write the next mail if she is better. As ever, -- R. L. Goodrich
Letter
Number 140 Owego
[New York] My dear Ralph, I hope you have safely arrived at your home all well this pleasant Sunday morn. It is a long time to be going on the cars five days and nights. [Your daughter] little Jennie is well and doing well. I think she missed Sally and you too, but [your brother] Stephen will take your place. She is very good days. [Your sister] Sarah has taken the care of her nights till last night [when] Stephen lay on the lounge and took care of her, Sarah getting up once to put on dry diapers. She has cried a good deal nights till last night [when] she slept very well. Stephen says it is because he took care of her. If she will be as good as she was last night, we can get along very well. She has something of a charm but no more than children generally have. [Your sister] Mary [Horton] and her family were up yesterday. She says Jenny has grown in a week. I hope she will keep well and be good. How long did your lunch last? And did you have to lie over anywhere [on your return home]? And how did Sally get along? How did you find things at your house? We are all about as when you left. Nothing remarkable has happened in our neighborhood that I know of. I suppose you will be busy tomorrow, but I hope you will take time to write us. We did not have a letter from [your sister] Augusta yesterday, but may today if Stephen goes to the [Post] Office. It is quarterly meeting today and he may not get out [of church] in time to go to the Post Office. Please excuse my short scribble. Goodbye. From your ever affectionate Mother.
Letter
Number 146 Camden
[Arkansas] My dear, Although you did not ask me to write to you today, thought I would just for spite. I got your letter Tuesday evening [and] also one from Chicago -- an agency with a paper of needles for sample. Last evening I received that book from Nellie (about the Spring's) but nothing more. It seems we both wrote last Sabbath, perhaps about the same time. But I did not take a nap, you lazy fellow. Indeed, I think you have got along nicely so far. I am so glad you will get your ring. You cannot imagine how much I thought about that. It worries me so. If you had not got it, I would not have told you. Judge Caldwell is a true gentleman, I have no doubt. Oh, if there were only more such men in the world how much better it would be. I have got along very well this week so don't be uneasy about me -- much better than I expected too. Monday afternoon I went down to see that Jen or ____ woman and staid quite awhile. Also called on Mr. Rogers who treated me very kindly. The people here at the [Southerland] Hotel are very good to me. [They] teaze me a good deal though. Major [Samuel Hillis] Southerland said he received a telegram from you stating that you had married another girl and was on your way North, and every day at dinner he says "got another" -- he is still going on, now if my wife was not here so that I could make love to you. But let me tell you the joke. Mrs. Southerland was taking a nap today and dreamed about you. [She said she] thought she saw you [and] that you had come back to take me away, and that your beard had commenced to grow again -- or rather your whiskers. [She] told Major about it at the table and we had a good laugh. I wish I knew how you were my dear. Don't work too hard please. I hope you have done well with your Irons. Have you sent for the oil? I don't know about that rocking chair. You must do as you think best. Do you think there are enough persons here that would take it to justify you in bringing it? Mrs. Carse will take one when she goes to housekeeping, just to encourage you. I asked Mr. Jordan if I could borrow some books from him. So in the evening he brought me two new books. Both had his name in [them] but I know he had bought them just for me to read. Very kind of him, was it not? I did not write home this week, but will write to Pa next Sabbath. Guess I will write to your folks this week. Pretty good advice your father gave us. Is it very warm there? But I presume it is about like it is here. It has been pretty warm this week until today. It has rained since noon. I am glad you have got a good place to board. Do you think you will take me to Little Rock? Well almost anywhere to be with you for I find that I think of you instead of home. Now don't say I love you better because you are away. If you do, I won't love you a bit when you come back just to punish you for saying so. Do you think of me as much as you did before we were married when you were away from me -- or in other words, am I what you expected to find me or have you been disappointed? Please answer candidly. I will admit I would rather have you write it than tell me, but I want to know what you consider my greatest faults so that I may try to correct them, both for your sake and my own. Now dear, I am in earnest about this and hope you will think of it when thinking of me. Do you think you can come a week from next Sabbath. I hope you will for I have been thinking about it all the time for you know although the people are very kind, it is not like having you with me. And I can't help getting lonely some times and wishing you were here Oh so much. But then I suppose it is all for the best and I will try to be as submissive as I can for I know you don't want to be away from me any more than I do from you. Nor would not be if you could do otherwise. I was just thinking today how nice it would be when we go to housekeeping what a prim little wife I will make, and what a dear good husband you would be (don't smile at my adjective) until my thoughts almost carried me away. You said you would write to me this evening. Be sure and write Sabbath too and I will do so. Then we will both get our letters Tuesday evening. It is almost mail time and I will send Henry to the [Post] Office as it is raining. Hope he will bring me several letters. I will not seal this until he comes. Here he is and no letter. Oh dear me. It is too bad. But it is getting late. I feel very anxious to hear from home [in Iowa] since you told me about the storm. I hope it did not come near our house. I have written a great deal and have not said much either I expect. I will tire you reading such a long and uninteresting letter. I would so much rather talk to you than write, but then who wouldn't. Send me a kiss indeed. Sir, you are very stingy. Wonder that you did not send me only half of one. To show you what a liberal woman you have, I will return good for evil and send you twenty or more. Goodbye darling. From one who loves you. -- Libby Letter
Number 147 June
19, 1871 Mr. Goodrich, I was very much distressed at your conduct for a few days and I do trust that grace may be given you to free yourself from the power of your great enemy. Accept my kindest regard and deepest sympathy for the great trials you have had sent upon you. I have every confidence that all will now be right and my husband's interests will be guarded. [Libby Carse]
Letter
Number 148 Kansas
City, Missouri Dear Ralph, Your kind and hasty letter reached me today, found us well, and not well fixed. I have waited here partly to hear from you something outside of the law in regard to the Indian Territory, as I might not have interpreted the law only to my advantage and desired to learn some opinion outside to benefit me. But in view of our efforts, permit me through you to tender to the Judge my kind thanks for the invaluable information he gave. I hardly know just how to appreciate his kindness, -- also to my friend [Isaac C.] Mills, to him and [Augustus] Garland, Tucker, &c. I must express much the sorrow I feel at their total ignorance of the existence of even an acquaintance among these with whom they for years have been more or less connected with. But you know there is nothing like knowing nothing when ignorance is a useful thing -- an easy way of getting over a little bit of favor that we don't like to deny for cause. True, I by my peculiar usefulness in one branch of the duties of the office -- by which others benefited -- have exhibited a trait of character (necessary at the time) which enabled me to do things somewhat useful at times. But it is equally as true that these actions and doings of mine has fixed on me a sort of reputation -- as Redmond often expressed it -- of a damned thief. I don't wonder at those gentlemen feeling a delicacy in recommending me to anybody whatever for any favor for fear that their excellent reputations may suffer. In looking over the events of years of time, labor, and trouble, I can but feel that I have earned the very questionable reputation I have acquired. And this apparent unwillingness springs from a dread in their minds that I meditate for myself similar means of obtaining a competence that I acquired for them by peculiar actions and a trait of character that could do such without wincing under the lash of public scorn and contempt. I feel all this. But if it had not been for myself, I should never have done so. Yet when I think of it, and knew another in the manner I am known toward them, I should feel the same delicacy in endorsing one who did so for me -- as they do me -- probably for the same personal considerations. As for the second favor I asked of Mills -- and I felt safe in doing so -- the other to see Tucker about [the] Stoddard matter, I dare not ask more. The latter he probably could have done for me. I have none other through whom I could have asked and through you humbly ask his pardon for requesting him to trouble himself with my affairs. Still, I now wish those men had sued Tucker on the bond and I should not have earned another medal for my peculiar adaptness in sophistry, and would not have the reputation with Tucker of being a liar and "fence" in covering up and evading his responsibility for the doings of Stoddard. Still he lives; he is wealthy, and so is Mills, while I -- with unlawful earned money -- have suffered -- through kindness the loss of that so earned -- and now am denied even a small personal favor for a fear that some future action of mine might be similar to those required of me for them, and they have to bear the ignominy of the same without obtaining a lion's share of the benefits. I desire as a personal favor that this be shown to Isaac C. M[ills] as I have my last to him still unanswered and I expect no further communications from him. I have lost my usefulness now and as an old glove, I am cast aside. And I am not a Mason or Odd Fellow; hence no fraternal feeling binds us. And personally, none will as I am situated that I shall never ask for more no matter how great the necessity I shall have for them. Now, this disagreeable subject is at a close, and all my hopes in that quarter likewise. And I expect it is a relief to all of them. To yourself. You must show the foregoing to Mills. If he has not become as calloused in his shell of religious and moral rectitude as to feel the ingratitude ever so little, it will at least have the effect of exhibiting to him my sensibility at this unwarranted treatment. If I ever get out of this place, I shall show them all a thing or two and you need have no fears of showing this to Isaac. Twill do him good unless he is past regeneration. And now I want to ask your pardon for making you the medium but it will have its effect more pointedly than if I wrote him as he will know that as he puts on his pious air around you all, that you are posted and his heart will send the blush to his cheek if there is blood enough in him to make one. We are tolerable well, and [my wife] Lizzie is yet unable to be moved, but hope to be able soon to make a strike. I shall examine Brightly and whether or not shall see others, Strangers who probably will see me through if I go into the [Indian] Nation. There is money in what I intend and I will make it. And it is fair too -- "merely selling cloth" -- it ain't criminal, but it is in money-making. Now goodbye. Write me soon and let me know when those men get broke so I can come down and help them make some more. With love of all. I am, as ever, -- C. H. Cole
Letter
Number 150 Denver,
Colorado Dear Goodrich, I have just got in from the mountains. At Georgetown, I had a terrible congestive chill and several days of burning fever which nearly used me up & swallowed all my finances. And I am here [in Denver] with no money. I wish you to send me $100, draft on N.Y. at this place immediately. Then I want you to send a draft for $100 to Mrs. Wright at Keokuk [IA] as soon as you can spare it from office expenses, or perhaps if your bank account will allow it. Send both to me at this place & I will write & send her. The latter is the best plan. But have it made in two drafts. Be a good boy & you will be happy, Your friend, -- Frank E. Wright
Letter
Number 151 September 5, 1871 Dear Brother, Your letter containing the money came all right & so did the picture. We all think it very good, only a little flattering unless you are fleshier than when you were here. It looks as though you have good health now. I like the style of yours better than Jennie's but they said they had to take it the same way the copy was. I am sorry you have such a bad cold but hope you may be better ere this. [My husband] Lew is complaining a little & I do hope the babe is better. I have had the blues ever since I received your letter. I hope she will get along this summer & then she will be part of the world, I think. Day after tomorrow will be one year since [my sister] Jennie died & it seems as though she is in my thoughts day & night, for I dream so much about her, & Mother too. Our fair commenced today & brings her fresh to me for I was there the day she died. Father is coming home tomorrow to stay a few weeks for a rest. Him & I talk of visiting some relatives in Indiana while he is here. I had a letter from [my sister] Lizzie [Cole] a few days ago. She says they are coming home as soon as they get their money from Memphis. Maybe it is all gone but I hope not. They say they intend to settle in Ohio. [Her husband] Charlie [Cole] wrote some to Lew in her last letter asking about his folks & I haven't heard from Sallie Hughes for a long time. I still look for them down some time. We are done hauling peaches for this year & today Lew has been having the wine cellar cemented. He expects to make wine next week & when that is done, we will have a little rest. Now I will close as it is so dark I can't see the lines. We all send love and Frank wants you to write to him & he will answer. From your sister, as ever -- C. Finch
Letter
Number 152 Kansas
City, Missouri Dear Ralph, Yours of the 1st rec'd. We are glad to hear from you. I have nothing to write of news that would be of interest. We are still here waiting to get away and hope to ere this reaches you. But I am astonished that of all my friends at Little Rock, you only hold out. But let them live. I swear to be even with them yet. I shall trouble you to do one thing more, I.E., hunt up that deed I left with G. W. McDairmid and paid him for recording before I left Little Rock. It seems funny that it cannot be found. If not to be had, can not you get me another one? Mills made it to me as Commissions in suit of Pecker vs. Duell, in chancery. Then do you look over the County Records and see if the same was recorded. If so, see if the same was listed to me for taxation. Then, if so, if the same was sold for tax for 1870, then find out the purchaser and obtain the State's title in it. Get it valid and keep these proceedings a profound secret from all. You can hunt up all these items before you make inquiry for the deed. The land you will find described in your own records. I think if we can get the State to sell her title in it, we will have all we want if anybody has bought it. I have the right of redemption which none can deny me. Then when you have all this, put the same in shape and you can sell the same for something for I think then I shall have the right that the State forfeits when she sells. It will be worth $10 or $12.50 per acre. It is worth $100 now if clear title is obtainable. And if you sell [it], I will give you one third of all you get over the cost of purchase and your expenses. if anybody knows you are interested for me, they will chary about telling you anything. And if you hunt up the deed first, you will arouse suspicion. Harrington, I think, may have helped gouge me out of it as he wanted to purchase the land. Quiz him about it in a good opportunity. Langtree had a buyer for it once. See him incidentally. In all this, count yourself a party to profits. Show Mills, if convenient, or tell him what I say about Tucker, and maybe he could do something for me there. Tucker ought to have been willing to give me $1000 out of the ten thousand he offered me to settle up Stoddard's matter. I can give him an order to the Comptroller that he can get the money back but neither him nor I can do anything, nor Stoddard get the money, until I am paid -- if it stays forever. I hope to be able to exchange pictures with you when we get settled. When that will be, God only knows. [My wife] Lib is better. [Our daughter] Carrie grows like a weed and does well. I am cross and morose until I cannot do a kindness without forgetting myself. This life is horrible. This town a Hell, in fact. Now pay attention to this letter. If anything can be done, you can do it and I know you will too as I feel you are a true friend, while I -- the damdest fool -- am now suffering for my folloes. Well, I shall not tell you what I do feel at times. Our best love to you. Write soon, -- C. H. Cole
Letter Number 159 Little
Rock [Arkansas] My dear Redmond, Since the receipt of your letter, I have been wondering what the speculation is in which you are about to embark, and in which you say you would like to have my company. You know full well how eagerly and for what reason I have desired to leave this place. I am as fully convinced as you are that Little Rock is the best place for making money, but there are reasons [like] a person's health and happiness which must be taken into consideration and which, under my circumstances & surroundings I can not hope to obtain here. I write to hurry you up in perfecting your arrangements for I feel now more than ever that I ought -- that I must -- absolutely leave this city. The reasons that move me to this conclusion are not my proclivities to insobriety only, but there are others of which I cannot write that render this change imperatively necessary. Although my last comedy on my drunken stage came very near resulting in a tragedy, I have been absolutely temperate now for some time, but I am unable to say how much longer I can resist. Absence may affect a cure, and that absence from scenes where I have encountered my heaviest grief's and, in fact, suffer now, is the only means that I can see for an escape from more lasting allictions to myself. Excuse the querulous tone and desponding character of this letter. I know that you as well as Mrs. Redmond have sympathized with me and I feel that you will excuse me now. With my respects to Mrs. Redmond, I am as ever sincerely, -- R. L. Goodrich
Letter
Number 165 Mrs. Libbie Carse (1851-1931) was the daughter of saddler Joseph B. Daniels (1826-1874) and Annice Rebecca Love (1826-1914) of Iowa City, Johnson County, IA. They were married in Coshocton OH in March 1850. Libbie was their eldest child, born in Iowa in 1851, making her 15 years younger than Ralph Goodrich. John Henry Carse (1846-1933) was born in IA; his mother Margaret (1829-1910) was a native of PA and his father John T. (1818-1895) was a native of Killinchy, Down, Ireland. Though his father was a farmer, John Carse (Jr.) grew up to be a stone- or marble-cutter. Ralph and Libbie's love affair began while she was engaged to John Carse. Ralph attempted to have Libbie break the engagement but she did not, afraid of causing her parent's social embarrassment. The affair continued even after Libbie and John's marriage, which occurred on 30 March 1871 in Iowa City IA. The couple's marriage appeared to be strained from the start, no doubt assisted by her illicit affair with Goodrich, and they lived separated from time-to-time. They appear to have reconciled, however, as the couple had at least five children by 1890: Joseph Wentworth Carse (1875-1916), Eloise ("Ella") Carse (1878- 1948), Jennie Daniels Carse (1880-1954), John ("Jack") Fillius Carse, (1887-1951), and Earle Russell Carse (1890-1952). In 1885, John and Libby Carse were living at 575 Washington Avenue in Council Bluffs, Pottawattamie County, Iowa where John's occupation is given as "Coal Dealer." The couple were still living together in Omaha City, Douglas County, NE in 1930. Owego
[New York] My love, my life. I could not resist the temptation to write again to you from my old home. I have longed & sighed & wished so much to be with you – thought of you so constantly that like yourself, the sight of old & dear friends can not dispel the gloom that oppresses my heart. I have kissed [my daughter] Jennie often & often & thought of you. I know you would love her. She is so loving & gentle. There is nothing rude about her. She is kind even to her kitten. But Jennie does not occupy all my thoughts, nor all of my affections. There is a place here in my heart she cannot enter – a void she cannot fill. Why do I say a void when you fill it, when you have entered there & sway as powerfully as a queen? Yet, my love, I call it a void because you are far from me. I cannot press you to my breast, I cannot drink the dew on your lips, I cannot feel your bosom heave & throb with the love that is welling up & bounding toward mine. I long to hear those soft sighs, those words so full of love, “Oh Ralph, how I love you.” But you are far away, groaning in spirit, wasting your sighs on the unpitying air, hoping perhaps that some kind breeze may waft a kiss or bear some words of faith & truth over the distance & print it on my lips or whisper them in my ear. Oh Libbie, I did not know that I loved you so much as I do. We never know the strength of our passions until they are tried. We never know the power of love until we feel it. We never know its influences fully until we are separated from the object or lose it. Tell me if my other letter was such a good loving one as you hoped for. If it was not, I can only say that I am so brimful of love for you that I cannot find expression for it. Libbie, last night I dreamed we were loving – as of old – [and] he did not enter into my dream & you were all my own. Oh what a disappointment when I awoke & found it nothing but a dream. Have you dreamed any like that? Write me as you did – I like it. I have read that letter over till I have nearly every word by heart. What do you think of the suggestion in my letter about speaking to Alder or someone else for me to address my letters to you to him. It will blind the hun & we can write to each other directly occasionally for a blind also. I am continually on the go [and] if I was not, I would be supremely miserable. [My brother] Steve half thinks I am in love with you [as] I have talked & praised you up so much. I have given him & [my sister] Sarah two of our pictures. My love, my darling Libbie, remember your promise. Your native tact & ingenuity such as have aided us on former occasions will guide you to success. How is your baby? Kiss her & think of me. Why do I say think of me? Can you help it? Can you draw your mind & affections entirely from me & forget me? I feel that we are bound together by a more sacred & holier bond than the marriage rite ever consecrated. Do you? Think of the filthy _____. Was your marriage to him a sacred rite? God forbid! Oh, I wish you never had been polluted by his touch. I don’t mean that you are polluted, but that his touch is polluting. Libbie love, I am nearly done, but I am not half through. Believe that when you get this, you receive a long, long kiss full of love, full of desire & full of happiness. Let it refresh you, revive your drooping spirits, add freshness & bloom to your cheeks & health & strength to your body. My love, one kiss, one embrace, & I close. Send it ye breeze & bear it to my Libbie – mine only mine. – Ralph Have you ever thought of the last night at the University & similar occasions? Libbie, I am true. No tempter or temptress could succeed. Write a letter as you feel, a long one [and] fill it with love. You cannot be soft to me. I wish I could go back to Iowa City.
Letter
Number 166 Owego
[New York] My dear friend [Mrs. Sarah E. Carse] I suppose you will be surprised to get another letter from me so soon, but I promised to send you a picture of [my daughter] Jennie. What do you think of it and of her? I have been on the go ever since I came. There are no prettier girls here than in Iowa City. I believe they are scarce everywhere. Jennie wobbles about a good deal and talks more. She has taken to me in earnest and [my brother] Steve has a baby. It came Friday evening – is a girl and weighs six and a half pounds. The mother is doing well and Steve is tickled to death. I shall go back to Little Rock with the intention to save money as it seems that an unfortunate speculator of the administration of mother’s estate have left us but little and my sister is not feeling very well over it. I saw my aunt in New Jersey. She does not speak so highly of Thatcher as Thatcher did of her. Everybody here thinks I look a hundred percent better than I did last year when here. I hope I do, and I tell them it is the result of your good house-keeping and motherly care of me. Please accept from all of them the expression of their kindest regards and gratitude, and they tell me that if they forget you, I ought not to. Well I wrote this only to go along with the picture [of Jennie] & did not intend to write so much. With my best wishes to your father & mother, Jim & all. But I forgot to say I start Monday or Tuesday for the Rock & trusting that I shall hear from you. I am as ever your sincere friend. – R. L. Goodrich
Letter Number 246, 248, and 247 Mrs. Sarah Elizabeth ["Libbie"] Carse wrote these three consecutive letters approximately one week apart to her husband John H. ["Henry"] Carse. At the time of these letters, the couple's marriage was strained, forcing a separation. Libbie and her baby daughter were living with her parents in Iowa City, Iowa, while her husband was living in Little Rock, Arkansas. It appears that Goodrich may have been boarding in the same residence in Little Rock as the Carses prior to the couple's separation and that he was at least partially, if not fully responsible for the couple's marital problems. These three letters written to her husband suggest that she was not yet ready to give up on their marriage despite her husband's accusations and expressed jealousy of Goodrich. It is surmised that Goodrich stole these letters from Carse in Little Rock in an attempt to find out whether Libbie had stronger feelings for her husband or for him. 246 Dear Henry, Indeed I was surprised &
astonished after reading your letter which I received last evening. I had a very
pleasant time during commencement. Have been in town a good deal. Have a
pleasant home on the farm almost like the one in town. But everyone seems struck
with my looks. I am so thin. I weight just 100 pounds. So you have been to Mrs. Fitch’s?
I expected as much & knew she would tell you about our talk. Also
invited to Mrs. Work for her to stuff you & it seems from your letter that
you intend to go by what they say although you admit one lays the blame on the
other. Still you will take their
word before mine? Mrs. Fitch need
not have said [that] about me working, for anyone with a bit of feeling about
them knows, or ought to, that I have been in no condition to work the past year,
and do not intend to if I do not get better. It does not matter one bit to me
what they say about that. It is no one’s business but my own. Indeed, I am
surprised when you say that Goodrich shall leave. I think I am to be consulted a
little about such matters. The reasons you give are perfectly absurd. The idea
of Mrs. C. being afraid of him! Which has done the most for us, her or Ralph?
The ignorant thing. Let her go if she is such a booby. And their speaking of his
example before the baby! It will be at least two years before she takes notice
& then his example in some things is good. I am not afraid to trust her with
him about. Don’t speak of temper. We all have our share. Yours, although
different, is no better than others. And the last reason, how foolish! I
consider I did perfectly right in allowing Ralph to fan me. No one would think
otherwise except ignorant fools, except yourself, and I am surprised to think
that you gave it a second thought. Don’t you know that that is an act of
politeness & that no gentleman would think otherwise. I will tell you this
– that during commencement, Ralph fanned me in the presence of Pa & Ma
& all my friends & was thought nothing of.
If I was with any other man, I should expect him to do the same if it was
a hot day & [I] had no fan. It makes me so angry when I think for such
foolish things as the above you say you intend to let Ralph go after all he has
done for us. And then too it looks as if you doubted me. I can’t tell what my folks think of
you. They have not said a word about you in that way. Of course they would not
to me. Indeed, I did not tell them about our circumstances. I am a little too
big feeling for that. Yes, Darvin told Pa, so I heard, & Pa was very angry.
No, they have said nothing about money but I know they do not intend to say
anything soon because they have built [recently] & have none to spare. Baby is well. Took her to doctor
yesterday. Will not have that { }
taken off her head as it will not harm her. Ma takes all care of her. She is fat
already. I hope to hear from you immediately – a far different letter from the
last. Bye, Bye, -- Libbie P.S. Our folks know nothing about the trouble [between us]. I would not have them know that you think so little of me as to believe or accuse me of doing wrong. 248 Dear Henry Received your letter. Have just a few
moments to write before going out to Grahams to spend several days. I am pretty
well but very weak & thin. Baby is well & fat.
It is very hot here. Cannot be more so there. I am sorry you think I don’t write
often enough – also that I am careless. Well perhaps I am but I do not mean to
be so. Does Mrs. C. do any better cooking? It seems not as you say you cannot
eat. What presentment did you have? Tell me all about it. I begin to think you
are nervous. People are very good to invite you out, are they not better than
when I am there? Anna says to tell you that you owe her a letter & she wants
you to answer it. I have been there several times. I like it on the farm, but it
is rather lonely. Have you heard from home since I left? I think I am pretty
good to write so soon after receiving your letter. Wonder if you will go to church today? Of course you will. It is quarterly meeting out to Grahams. I will be there. Write soon & excuse short letter. I receive a letter from Lou James last week. Am in a great hurry for have to get baby & myself ready. Be a good boy. Did you get my photo? I sent it. Must go to breakfast. Good morning, -- Libbie 247 Dear Henry, Was out to Graham’s all last week.
Have been very sick yesterday & today. Can hardly write now. Ma said I must
not, but I thought you would be anxious. Received your letter but not those
papers you spoke of. I hardly think you ought to have insured your life. If you
have one bit of regard for my feelings, you will not break up house keeping. I
think I ought to have a little to say about such things, especially when it is
in regard to my home. I will not, can not, write more, Must go to bed. Baby is
well & growing. Bye-bye. My head swims. I am sick. Will try & be better
soon. Write to me, -- your Libbie
Letter
Number 167
Little Rock, Arkansas My dear, dear Libbie, Bob Burton has just told me that Carse has gone up to Iowa City & left here a week ago last Wednesday. You don’t know, you cannot imagine, how badly I have been feeling ever since. When I went to P.O., I asked Pollock if it was so. He said yes, but he did not know that he was going until after he had gone. Pollock calls him a fool & there are more than one here who call him a thief. Oh Libbie, I hope you did not – nor your folks – write to have him come up. Did you Libbie? What made him go? If it was absolutely necessary for him to go, what a fool he is when he owes so much. Oh Libbie, I feel so bad. I imagine everything. Don’t, my love, deceive me. Tell me all. And Libbie, did you keep your promise – never to let him touch you? That is what he went for, or to get some money from your father. Oh Libbie, write me all. Don’t keep back anything. How did your folks receive him & what they said. Libbie, if I did not love you as I do, I would not be so anxious. I would not be so much worried. I would do all to have you & him make up, but I cannot. Oh Libbie, it is awful to me – terrible. I am trembling as if I had the ague. You have been with him a week [and] I suppose slept with him, and kissed him. It seems sometimes as if I cannot stand it. I am glad I did not hear before that he had gone. It has saved me a great deal of suffering and sleeplessness. And God knows I have too much of the first and too little of the last. The people here are astonished at the little sleep I take. Oh Libbie, they would not wonder if they knew what was on my mind and heart. Tell me all about him, what he went for, what did he tell you & your folks? What did he say about me – lied, I suppose, and Oh Libbie, I hope and pray that he did not get what he wanted most – your compliance – you know what. Did you sleep together? My love, my darling, write me all. Oh I hope your letter will dispel all my gloomy imaginings, and I hope your folks hate him more and more, and that you see yourself how terrible it will be to you to live with him. Tell me how you acted toward him. Did you even seem to love him? Oh Libbie, I am afraid you will not keep to your promise – that you will forget the sweet bye & bye. Write me my darling and tell me my imaginings are all groundless [and] that you love me more, and despise him. Does he think you love him as of old? Does he believe your old love for him has returned? Oh I hope his eyes are opened, that the fool can see how matters stand, that he is not loved, and never can be by you and let you alone – leave you. Libbie, I feel I almost know that something disagreeable is going to happen [and] that you will give up to him in every respect. Oh Libbie, have courage and will of your own. Remember your promises to me. Think of that slovenly, dirty, lickspittle & how does he differ from a liar and a thief. How has he treated me? Where would he have been if it was not for me? Will you go with him? But he has been with you a week. Can you imagine how I feel? You cannot. Have you talked and laughed with him? Has he tried to love you, hugged and caressed you? My Libbie, what an idea. How terrible to think that stinking goat is caressing my darling. Oh my love, I hope, I pray, I beseech from the very depths of my heart that it was not so. I hope you have not swerved one jot or little from the promises you made me. Oh
my sweet darling, will you give me up for him? Can you? If you can – if you do
– I never, never shall believe in woman again. I will forget the past. I will
wipe it away with my tears & close my heart to every kind & gentle
feeling for the sex and go my own way. Oh my love, I do not know what I have
written. My head is so jumbled up. After your solemn promise – your pledge of
truth and everlasting faith. Libbie, if you live with him as man and wife, do
you believe that I could ever respect you – could ever love you? I love you so
much it would be hard for me to say what I would do. But now it seems if you did
that, I could neither love or respect you. He
appears to me like the foulest and beastiest of bruts – whoever associates
with him closely & intimately – whoever consorts with him in that
mysterious union which should link together husband and wife – that one, in my
eyes, in my feelings, becomes degraded, polluted. And if that person is a woman,
she has lost the noblest part of her being – her virtue. And if that person be
you, Libbie, however dearly I love you, however strong your visage is impressed
upon my heart, you could fade from there [though] it would break my heart. But I
could never love you. You would be polluted & what would be worse, because
you would not resist, you would be perfectly willing to be polluted. You have
said that you would not marry me if I drank. I would most respectfully decline a
union with you when you went with him & I have the better reason than you. Libbie, haven’t you written more letters to him than to me since we left Little Rock? I know this now – it is so strong a belief with me now that it has become a part of my nature. You cannot be Carse’s wife & love me. The two existing at the same time are inconsistent. You ought to annul or break off one or the other. It is the duty you owe to me. If you cling to him, tell me so that I may know the worst at once. If your courage falters & your resolution fails you – if you cannot fulfill your promises and plighted faith to me, tell me so and let the crash come. I have gloomy thoughts, Libbie, can you blame me? I ought to have got a letter from you Thursday night and here it is Saturday night & after the mail and none yet. Have you forgotten me? Has he so occupied your time and attention that you could find no opportunity to write me? Can you blame me for feeling hurt, sorrowful and wretched? Libbie, what did you marry that fool for? He would disgrace an angel – and your father – stop, hesitate to break away from him. Where is your courage, Libbie? No, I am all wrong. It is duty & the fear of disgrace. You wrote to Carse from Camden [Arkansas] longer letters than any you have written to me. I begin to doubt that you love me. If you did, you would act otherwise. But in your connections with the beast, think of us “Thy Libbie” & “My Ralph” – you will have pleasant memories and delightful reflections such as a devout, virtuous, high-minded Methodist ought to have – especially the wife of such an ignorant booby and fist-manipulator as your husband. Isn’t it delightful, Mrs. Carse, to have such things known outside of the family? Wouldn’t it be nice for Mrs. Work to know absolutely to be true what she asserted on [your character] -- that you were a lewd woman? Even Bob Burton says you are soft and silly & your husband is a fool & a knave – pleasant terms aint they? Now don’t let your temper rise for I am not yet done. Pa & Ma shall have a taste & brother Clinton & Alder & each get from him, break the sinful tie. Do not let your courage fail you or your resolution falter. Do not be worried & harassed into submission. Keep up your courage & if you love me, reflect on how strong & enduring is the love I bear you. Think of the sweet bye & bye, & never yield, never make concessions to him that will shut you off forever from me. Oh Libbie, you have determination & resolution; then exercise them. Keep up your spirits, never once doubt me. Look hopingly, longingly to our bright & happy future & let the reflection give you so much peaceful rest, that his entreaties upbraidings or threats, or the lectures or commands of parent, or scoffs of relatives or friends cannot darken your life, cannot move or influence you to go against your heart-yearnings. Can you do this, Libbie? Oh, I love you so deeply, so profoundly, my darling. I pity you for your suffering. You are dearer to me for your trials if you withstand them. You are linked to me in bonds that would take life-blood if they were broken, for the kind & loving words you have spoken, for the earnest & hopeful faith you have in me, for the caresses & love you have bestowed upon me & fed my heart, & your promises of faith and purity, your solemn assertions to live only for me. Don’t let a mistaken idea of duty, don’t let that foolish & nonsensual notion & fear of disgrace bind you to him & wean you from me who dotes upon you, loves you beyond the expression of words, and worships you as devoutly, as sincerely & as truly as one human being can another. Oh, my love, my life – when they assail you, when they endeavor to lure you away from me, then think, just think over our past & let those sweet memories enter your heart. Let those delightful scenes so beautiful in our love come before your sight & let your promises come rolling & a welling up and knock at the chambers of your soul & deter you from putting on his yoke again & spading me on. When? My darling do you long, does your heart yearn for me as I thirst for you? Oh, break the fetters, tear asunder the bonds & scatter them to the winds, & if you cannot, Oh Libbie, let us be happy together. We can, I know it.
Letter
Number 168 Little
Rock, Arkansas Mr. R. L. Goodrich, Dear Sir: You will oblige me by delivering those things that belong to my wife such as silver ware, books, &c. to the bearer Armstead Scott which is done per her request. -- J. H. Carse
Letter
Number 169 Little
Rock, Arkansas My dear Libbie (may I call you so?), I begin at the beginning. You owe me two or three letters. You have not seen fit to answer. I would like to have an explanation. Your husband made a visit to Iowa City. He returned. During the time, I heard nothing from you. I wrote to you supposing you would answer. I have gotten no answer. The damned thug Carse returned here and demanded all your things that I stored away for him, because it did not cost him anything, & put in the demand that you requested it. Well Libbie, I suppose you settled it. I suppose you condoned with the dog & made up in all & thought the best thing was to let me go. Very well, Libbie. If you can go back on me in that way, I will forgive you. But Libbie, will you let me call you my darling? I hope and sincerely pray that you are a coquette and fickle-minded, that you do not think a straw of me, and that you fooled me but did not know it. That you did not love me as you said but imagined you did. This, Libbie, I hope is the truth. If you did not love me, then I will have pity on you. I will even have commiseration on your fallen condition. I will forgive you. I never can think ill of you. I will ever love you, but you have wrecked my life. I know it now. I will not lay it to your blame. I will hold myself accountable for my own death. For my own peace, I hope I may be able to forget you. It is proper, it is right for you to refuse any explanations, but Libbie, what [we] have been to each other you know. I forgo to make any comments. I hope you can appreciate. If I did not love you as I do, I would say you were a fool. Oh Libbie, excuse me. I write as I talk. I do not mean often what I say except when I said I loved you. You have made your choice. If you consider yourself authorized to answer this, tell me what you intend to do & what your intentions are to me. If in the vulgar language you have gone back on me, say so, but I can't go back on you. So farewell. -- R
Letter
Number 170 Little
Rock, Arkansas R. L. Goodrich, Dear Sir: Upon examination, it seems that I have a sheet belonging to you which I will send to you tomorrow or next day. At that time, you will confer a favor if you will send me a sheet in return which I think you have in your possession by mistake -- also my wife's hat brush and my Dictionary and noting on a piece of paper how much I owe you. Yours, -- J. H. Carse
Letter
Number 215/6 Little
Rock, Arkansas My darling Libbie, I wonder what you are thinking of. Is it of me? Oh how I long to see you again. Are we ever to see each other again? If you do not return and [instead] consent to go with him, have you ever thought of what is to become of me? If you love me as you say you do, living with him will make you miserable. Then why make two unhappy when you can render them supremely happy. In a year or two, we can be happy if you will resolve, but as soon as the resolve is made, from that time we may be happy henceforward in the consciousness that soon we will be one. Carse says that when you left he thought you did not love him, but now, since you have got away from me, he believes your old love for him has returned. What egotistical vanity! Shall I say it? Libbie, can you put on the semblance even of love to him? I hope you cannot. The Worth's & the Fitches have him body & soul. I wish he would run off or do something else. Worth is cold to me. His guilty conscience tells him that he and others have done us an injury. I have seen Mrs. Leslie. She was glad to see me. She does not think I am a viper nor you a soft silly girl, easily fooled, and more easily tempted to do wrong. Libbie, my heart yearns for you. I have been in my walks & revisited many of the places we were in and talked love -- one straight up the road on the hill where we sat down -- and I have tried to imagine that you were there up the street when we had familiar and loving converse. And now, Libbie, do you think I love you? Doesn't your own heart tell you that I do? The people here are just laughing about Carse. I did not know that everyone who knows him had such a hearty contempt for him. They think he is the biggest fool out of bedlam. Libbie, how can you remain with him? Knowing what you do & also knowing what sensible people think of him? To live with him will not speak much for your taste or good sense. But I fear you have condoned. I know you love me & would do anything, but Libbie sometimes I doubt your courage & resolution, and I fear you have yielded to him & granted what you solemnly wrote you never would. I hope your letter will dispel these fancies & imaginings but if it does not, Oh Libbie, what will become of me. I trust you implicitly & do not deceive me. Do not let me lose confidence in you. [-- RLG]
Letter
Number 181 Owego
[New York] Dear Brother Ralph, I intended to write to you last week but did not get to do it. I have succeeded in having a good photograph taken of [your daughter] Jennie at last & having given them all away but two -- I only had a half dozen taken but told them I should want more -- how many do you want to have sent you? Mr. [Charles R.] Coburn always asks very particularly about you. He asked if you had written anything about the yellow fever [and] said it was bad at Did you know that [our sister] Augusta was very much out of health? She had a disease of the kidneys & is in a dangerous situation. I have written to have her come & stay with me this winter & try out our physicians if she gets well enough to come, but she says she cannot come [and] that home is the best place for her. Miss Bates [our physician,] thinks it would be the best thing for her; the change would do her good. I am almost afraid to hear in every letter that she is not living, but hope she will get better. I cannot help but feel very anxious about her. Since I wrote to you [last], little Mollie Horton -- the Horton's little girl died very suddenly. I suppose [our sister] Mary has written to you about it. Aunt Lucy Fiddis started for Connecticut last Monday night. She could have company to New York [City] and they could help her on the cars for Hartford. She felt that she could not get through the city alone, and so she went rather sooner than she wanted to. She thinks of spending the winter there. When she went away from here, she would take your & your wife's photographs, and now I have none of her. I did not want her to take them, but she said she wanted to take them to show to our friends in Connecticut & if you did not send me more, she would return them to me. But I am afraid she will not and I always want one of Jennie's mother for her to look at. You will have another taken & send to me, won't you? Do not forget it. She wanted one of [your daughter] Jennie to take & I gave her one of them. [Our brother] Steve has just brought me over Miss Louise Platt's wedding cards. She is to be married to Mr. Putnam Stairs, Jr. the eighth of October at seven o'clock in the evening. Steve had one too. A man came & brought them around & went up to Mr. Bristol's -- I suppose to leave one there. Of course we shall not go but I think it was real nice in them to send them. Jennie has been to Sunday School twice. She thinks it is very nice. I wish you could hear some of her talk. Very often she says there is Papa on the cars & she wonders why he does not come over & see us. I have got her a carriage with a top to it for her dolly and she thinks so much of it. When I bought it, I rode over with Mary & the children. [Mary's son] Fred wanted it & said it was his, & Jennie said it wasn't -- it was hers -- and we had quite a time with them. They both of them kept hold of it all the way home & Fred cried when I took it out. But Jennie lets him play with it when she comes up. How do you get along with chewing tobacco? Have you quit it entirely? Steve is going to make cider in a day or two for vinegar. It is early to make for winter use. Apples are quite plenty here. I am going to take part of a barrel to make vinegar. It seems a long time since I have heard from you. I wish you would feel like writing often & more than I do. Jennie sends a kiss to Papa. She says we are having beautiful autumn weather. With much love. Ever your affectionate sister, -- Sarah
Letter
Number 190 Owego
[New York] Dear Brother, The babys are asleep and I will improve the time to write to you. We have had pleasant weather for three or four days, the first we have had in four weeks, and I have improved it by thrashing my buckwheat. It was a very good crop. [Our sister] Sed and [your daughter] Jennie started last Monday on the same train which you did. I went with them as far as Elmira [NY]. We met Stella there and a Col. Mason who was going to Denver, and I found a friend -- a cousin of Hat Lee -- who was going on the same train allmost to Chicago. I introduced him to the party and asked him to look after them. The cars were jamed full and I left Sed and Jennie standing in the aisle but hope they got a seat soon. They went by the way of Niagra and the Great Western through Canada. Frank & Emma Platt were over yesterday and gathered chestnuts. I think they had a good time. [Our sister] Mary & the children were up this evening. [Her husband] Gurd was not very well and did not come. We got a chain for [our daughter] Nellie with that money you gave me and some more with it. I told her that Uncle Ralph gave it to her. She does not speak about you as much as she did. I think she is forgetting about you. I think she understands about Jennie's going away as she does not ask to go over and see her nor ask to have her come and see her. There is no other news to write unless it is that I was elected trustee at the School meeting last week. We are all well. Write often. From your brother, -- Stephen Goodrich
Letter
Number 191 Akron,
Erie County, NY My Old Friend Goodrich, What in the name of God has become of you? Are you still in the land of the living? Possibly political troubles in your State have caused you to leave. I have written you some four letters but have received no answers to any of them. I thought while I am still here I would write you another hoping possibly it might find you and not meet the fate of the previous ones. It would be a great satisfaction to me to know how you are geting along, whether politics has effected you any or been the means of driving you away. I would like to know what you are doing and how you are geting along generally. I would like to know how the Burke family are coming on & whether thy are living there or not. Let me know if old Paddy Lee is alive yet. I presume he is. Give me what information you can. I suppose a good many old cocks are dead and left the place. Maybe you might not get this and it will be as well to make it brief until I hear from you. I have been continually working at my [carriage-maker] trade. I came out here on account of business being dull in Buffalo. It is only 24 miles from there. Now Ralph, if you ever answered a letter, answer this one whatever else you do. Say nothing about where I am. It will be just as well if the Burks family thinks I am dead. Let them think so. I may like Rip Van winkle rise from my long sleep and surprise them. I hope when these few lines will find you that you are enjoying nature Great Blessing. Here I do! Your affectionate friend, -- Michael Egan
Letter
Number 192 Manhattan
[Kansas] Dear Brother Ralph, I received your letter Saturday and would have answered it yesterday if I had been at home. We went to Manhattan to church in the morning & stayed to the Sunday School & it was late when we got back. We went down again in the evening to a Sunday School Concert. It is quite good sleighing & has been for some days. They rigged up a sleigh by putting the wagon box onto some runners they have & we went down very comfortably. We have had some awful cold weather. About two weeks ago, we had a cold spell. Water froze solid in my room. The snow then was six or eight inches deep -- as deep as it ever comes here, they say. I think it is as cold here as it is back home but it only lasts a day or two at a time. The weather changes the quickest here that I ever saw & the wind blows so cold from the north. Where did you spend Thanksgiving? The day before we were invited to visit & eat turkey to one of the neighbors about two miles away. [On] Thanksgiving day, [our sister] Augusta invited Mrs. Pound, her best neighbor, & her children to eat dinner here. [Augusta's 14 year-old son] Willie raised some ducks last summer & we had them for dinner Thanksgiving. The potatoes they bought that ____ from Iowa are not very good but better than none. Mr. Naylor & boy from near Topeka stayed over Sunday here. They are carrying a load in a large covered wagon. [Your daughter] Jennie called them Gypsey waggons & she would not quit talking about them when we first came here. Thursday. I have not finished my letter. The snow had all left & the weather has been delightful for a few days. Jennie went yesterday with her Aunt Augusta to call on Mrs. President [John A.] Anderson & had a nice time. Mrs. Anderson has a little boy two years old & they played nicely together. He has a rocking horse -- the first that Jennie has ever rode on & she came home full of it & wants one too. Everyone here makes a great deal of her & she is having a nice time this winter. I think she is growing fleshy. We both have such enormous appetites that everything tastes good. When we first came, [Augusta's son] Johnnie said to me, "Aunty, what makes me so hungry when I just eat my breakfast." I have not heard from [our sister] Mary or [our brother] Steve but once since I came. I answered both of their letters a long time ago. I wonder why they do not write. My paper comes regularly now [from Owego]. In the last one I saw the notice of Put Goodrich being killed by a horse kicking him. It is so dreadful. James [Griffing] was out drawing wood the other day & in getting out of the wagon, his foot slipped & he fell & hurt himself very bad. But he started again today & taken Willie. He goes for the wood about five miles & had to cross the Blue River too. He gets the wood cheap & has only a short time to get it off. We had a good letter from Stella the other day. Herbert had been sick ever since she had been there but was getting better. She thinks she shall like it there very much this winter [and] says Col. Mason comes in to see her often or enquires about us. He took a great fancy to Jeannie. He thinks she is very smart. The college term will be out in about two weeks. [Augusta's 17 year-old son] John is one of them that has got to speak. He has his paper learned already. I believe it is the "Dignity of Labor." His father wanted him to write one but he did not have time to try. John is one of the best in school. It has been pretty hard for him to get up these cold mornings & go up to the college & build all the fires & he was a great mind to back out but he has concluded to stuff it out to the end. In vacation, he expects to get root grafting & can earn quite a sum that way. He is learning to sing & will make a good bass singer. [Augusta's 11 year-old daughter] Mary is a little larger than [our sister Mary's daughter] Fanny but does not help her mother half as much, but likes to run outdoors. She and Jennie get along very well together. Willie is a great boy with the gun. He can almost supply the family with meat. He has shot a number of prairie chickens & quails & rabbits. The farmers do not like to have the quails killed for they eat the insects that destroy the wheat. Had I better write again to Mrs. [Christiana] Finch or do you think that she got my letter at last? When you write to Steve or Mary, tell Steven I would like to have them answer my letters. What do you hear from Frank Platt? Write me her news. I think it is too bad if they are not going to write me often. I like the neighbors here very much. They are very friendly & pleasant. Write often. Jennie sends a kiss & wants me to write to Papa to get her a rocking horse next summer. Ever your affectionate sister, -- Sarah
Letter
Number 193 Owego
[New York] My dear cousin Ralph, As I was gazing out of the window this noon, who should open the gate but your beloved Dora [Beebe]. You can imagine my surprise and how I ran to the head of the stairs with open arms, exactly as you would have done! Well, she looks as bright and happy as anyone I ever saw, although she says she did not care to come back to Owego excepting to see a few choice kindred spirits. So it must be from some other cause that so much brightness comes. Well, she acknowledges that her future looks cheering & pleasant – and she is greatly in earnest. There is not the least coquetry or flirting in her, and you need not fear it at all. When I asked her if her family were all pleased or if they made an objection, she replied “it would not make any difference to me if they did, but fortunately they do not.” So you see she is perfectly decided & evidently quite happy in her choice. She talks very freely & honestly with me, also sensibly, and appears to think you a little too good for this earth & fears something will happen to you – that you will not live long, or something of that kind. I have laughed and laughed at her lover like rapture’s but it does not seem to make any difference, she goes on talking just the same. It is quite refreshing in my old age to hear these lover’s stories again & I have quite renewed my age in listening to them. Dora has just been down again this evening and only one subject of conversation seems to interest her. Now it is the ring! She wishes me to tell you (& I think she is in the right) that she cannot possibly get the ring, if she were in New York it would be different & even then she would much prefer you to give her what you like best. She will think more of an engagement ring than anything else in the world, or anything else you would ever give her either now or in the future, & for that reason wants you to sent it to her, or at least feel that you were the means of getting it. Now Ralph, if I can help you in anyway, I shall be very glad to do so. I send to a lady in New York for everything a person could want. I would trust her taste sooner than my own, & if you would like me to, I could write her & no one know anything about it here. Or why could you not send to Tiffany yourself if that would be more satisfactory. I do not like to suggest or interfere in such a matter & should not if Dora had not urged my doing so. I have an old fashioned ring that is just the right size for her and will enclose it. If you want me to send, you must tell me about how much you want to pay & what style of ring. If not a solitaire. I have discovered by a little jumping that Emerald is her most favorite. Another little matter that I told Dora I would write you about, and which I trust will not offend you is in regard to your envelopes with your name on the back. If you could use others at present, it would not subject her to so many remarks. Her letters go to her father’s office & the boys there of course see them all as he is not here much & it is rather annoying to her, especially as she does not want the engagement announced till after she has the ring at least. Do I make it clear & are you provoked? She said she would not speak to you about it and her father advised her not to also, but I told her I was sure you would not care & offered to do so myself. I see you are both very quick to take offence, & I fear these constant hits will make trouble between you, and I know that would make her very unhappy. Ralph, I think truly and honestly that Dora is devotedly attached to you and she would be very unhappy if anything came up to cause a separation. She read me part of your letter where you blamed her for writing ‘so coldly & formally” & appeared to feel it very much. The poor child was worn out & wrote hurriedly, but I suppose it is all right now & an old story by this time. She looks perfectly tired out now, but after a good rest will probably feel better. She wonders what you can see in her to like &c &c. – the same old story! I shall look anxiously for your next letter & hope you will forgive me if I have taken too much upon myself. Remember, I am interested in you both & that all this is a secret between us three. No one else knows a word about the ring. Dora has told Anna about the engagement – also Sarah Peck & her own family of course. No one else knows it. What will Sarah & Steve say now! Have you told them? I wrote you yesterday & have nothing in the way of news to add. With love & kind wishes. Ever yours affectionately, -- [Francis] “Frank” S. Platt
Letter
Number 217 Private & Confidential -- to be consigned to the flames as soon as read! You asked me in one of your letters Ralph, what I meant by "terribly nervous." With all of your dictionaries (English, French, German, &c. &c.) one would suppose you might have understood the meaning of the word before this. As the affair has progressed so far, it will not be best for me to give you anything but the pleasantest side of adorable's nature. I am anxious to know how it is coming on (the affair, I mean). You & Dore [Beebe] are both becoming more I fear you think I have repeated to Dora what you have said in regard to her. Believe me, I have not, unless some message you sent her that of course I was bound to deliver. Emma may have said some things in a joking manner but we have tried to be discreet and cautious. She evidentially does not like it because we do not say more & learn more explicity "how the land lays." Now Ralph, burn this immediately. I am so tired writing I find I am constantly making mistakes in spelling as well as writing. Excuse all & make sense out of it if you can. It is more than I can do sometimes. Letter
Number 194 Albany,
[New York] Ralph L. Goodrich, Esq. My Dear Sir: Your letter, which I received yesterday, did not take me altogether by surprize, having already been made acquainted to some extent with its purport, so that I am prepared to answer it without embarrassment. I have known you and of you for many years, and my acquaintances and information have given me a favorable opinion of your character and worth. If, therefore, you and my beloved daughter, Dora, find yourselves constrained by mutual affection to unite your destinies "for weal or woe" in "holy wedlock", the proposed union, I am happy to assure you, not only has my cordial consent but will be entirely agreeable to me. Hoping that my daughter may prove to you a good wife, as I believe she will, and that you and she may enjoy a long life of happiness and prosperity together, I beg to assure you that I am and shall remain, most sincerely & Very Truly Yours, -- Hiram A. Beebe
Letter
Number 196 Manhattan
[Kansas] Dear Brother Ralph, I have got a miserable pen to commence with & have to exert myself so much to write that I am afraid it will not be much of a letter. [Augusta's 17 year-old son] John is going down town this evening & I want to write & send by him. We do not have an opportunity of sending to the [post] office very often since school was out. It commenced again this week & then we can send every day. One of the students has the office or job of bringing and distributing the mail for the students & the people on College Hill who want it brought up. There has been some trouble & money lost & people do not think it is quite as nice an arrangement as it was. John has been at work nearly everyday since vacation [started] at root grafting. He works in a warm room & had ten cents an hour. It is not much but helps to clothe him. His lady love gave him a very handsome Portemonie for Christmas & he gave her an Album. One of the peculiarities of the Kansasites is the boys must all have a girl to wait upon & our nephew John is not behind. He has a nice looking girl that he escorts around. The young people have been quite lively going to parties but when school commences again they will not have them as much. One of the Professors went to Michigan the first of the vacation & has brought back a wife. We are having very cold weather. We heard this morning that it was 15 degrees below zero. The wind does not blow or it would be so cold we would nearly freeze. As it is, we have to keep close to the stove. I received a letter from [our sister] Mary the other day. She wrote the neighbors have had a Christmas Tree at Steve's. Mr. Stiles gave his wife a gold watch & chain [that] cost $150. Lee [Goodrich] gave his wife a gold watch [that] cost $72. What is "Goodrich Neighborhood" coming to? Herbert & Stella sent a sack of nice Colorado flour & in it a small sack of buckwheat flour & a can of California Salmon to Augusta for Christmas. We have eaten the salmon & buckwheat & had some of the flour made into biscuits for dinner today which were excellent. When we first came, they were using the darkest flour I ever saw. I suppose Stella felt sorry for them. The spring wheat is not good here this year & does not make good flour sometimes. Santa Claus made us a visit & left us all something. [Your daughter] Jennie had quite a good many presents. We were all invited out to dinner Christmas to Mr. [Washington] Marlatt's. We had roast turkey &c. We were invited out to spend the day last week at another of the neighbors. Augusta says thank you for your picture. She did not know she had such a good looking brother. It is such an improvement on the last one. I tell her it looks just as you did last summer. If you had it to spare, I would not care if I had another like it for I think it is the best one you ever had taken. Do you hear from Frank Platt as often as ever? Mary wrote that Frank Barry was very sick & they did not think he would live. I have not heard from them in a long time. Jennie sends a kiss to you. She is enjoying herself I think this winter. She has got over her bashfulness in a measure & us not afraid to talk to the young men. Write a long letter & tell me what you hear from home. Augusta sends her love. Your affectionate sister, -- Sarah
Letter
Number 201 [Owego,
New York] …The Hon. H. A. [Beebe] was pretty full of benzine and was telling a dozen or more his family affairs and mentioned that his daughter Dora corresponded with a Mr. Goodrich of Little Rock, formerly of Owego. They did not say whether he felt himself honored or not by it. That is the reason that I asked you if you write to her. I thought it was not possible for you had only met her a few times. But then “love goes when it is sent” as the old saying is. You did not tell me when you were to step into the state of matrimony. [Your sister] – Mary C. Horton
Letter
Number 204 Little
Rock, Arkansas
My dear Mother, As time hangs heavily on my hands, I will [use] it & write you a letter. ...Time has no consideration whatever for our peaceful Sabbaths here. The grog shops and the candy shops, law & doctor offices, and the haberdasheries kept by the race without guile are open the same as any other day. Last Sunday the rain poured, the lightening rods got warm and tired out with so much work, and for once in a long time the city of Little Rock received a scavenger that did its work well and in tip top order she needed it. We did not go to church because our bank was too frail. Most southern towns are filthy, and especially where the shiftless darkies most do congregate. Little Rock might be a Venice, but she isn't. We are in possession of a grand canal called in less elegant language -- which does not in the least smell of the soft Tuscan -- the "Town Branch." [It] winds its way like a slimy snake through the heart of the city. It felt the storm and shook itself in rage, broke through its fastenings, spouted up through bridges, floated off a fat alderman, and swamped several grocery stores, [thus] mingling with its turbid waters dried codfish, pickled herrings, and salted mackerel -- a kind of fish unknown to these waters. In the language of the poet laureate of the city who always sends up a sympathetic wail whenever the Town Branch misbehaves, "it was as tricksy as Ariel and as deformed as the freckled whelp of Sycorax." You see he was a poet after the semblance of Shakespeare. The city is to have water works. There are at least five different companies striving for the honor of cheating the poor and the city and robbing the rich in order to give us adulterated water without the trouble of pumping it. Our city dads take their grog strait and they sit back and calmly view the contest and declare their intention not to subscribe for any plugs their inability to take water, and so in the dim future when hope deferred has at last called us to Abraham's bosom or somewhere else, we may be able to squirt our garden sass with water works. Boreas has trotted down here at a fast pace. I think he has come too soon. His ice will melt and he will, like us, have to take a drink. On the whole, Little Rock is not a bad place -- no worse, nor any better than others. There are pious citizens and pious old women and worldly preachers as in any other town which has any snap or vim about it, but I am compelled to say that the impious outnumber the otherwise. If Moody and Sanky could come, the visit might help us. The praying couldn't but the singing might give the darkies some other new airs which they would air in making night hideous. It is getting late. Night air is full of malaria and I'll get to bed to rest my weary spirit and worn-out legs, but wait -- Ca-chew! The refrain is taken up by the other one, Ca-chew! -- Good night.
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