Abbot Letters to Hannah Rantoul

Elizabeth (Abbot) Bowditch to Hannah Rantoul, 1 July 1845

[From Elizabeth in Tarboro, North Carolina, to Hannah in Beverly. She mentions and asks about activities and mutual friends; names and describes various new friends in Tarboro; describes a visit to the country; and describes the 4th of July celebration in Tarboro.

Addressed to "Miss Hannah L Rantoul, Care of Robert Rantoul Esq., Beverly, Massachusetts, July 8th." A separate notation by Hannah says "Mrs. Joseph Henry Bowditch, Tarborough, North Carolina, July 1st 1845." Postmarked "TARBOH N. C. Jul 8." BHS ID# 948.001.1276.]

Tarborough, July 1st 1845

My dear sister Hannah,

I did not mean that it should have been so long ere I commenced a letter to you after receiving yours, though I am much of a mind to say that I thought yours never would come. I watched and waited for it as patiently as it was my nature to do. I have reread your letter many times, and never do so without imagining that I have been talking to you. Then I put it away so carefully, to take it out again shortly. I am pleased that you like my miniatures so well now that the original is away. I can say of yours that it is excellent, much better than E. Woodberry's¹ or George's² that I have with me. Even the hand reminds me of our last shake.

When think you my dear sister we shall see each other again? Time will decide, but by letter we can talk much, and indeed you must write me often. Tell me all the little gossip and news, every thing will be interesting, even the state of the "Trask" family. Do you not think of me sometimes, when you walk, and say "I wonder what E. is doing, and whom she is talking to now, as she used to with me?" Hannah, often with her smiling face, is with me in my walks, even if not in reality, in imagination.

I congratulate you upon obtaining your Father's³ and Mother's⁴ daguerreotype. I can now particularly, if never before, realize what a pleasure it must be. It is just what I have been asking for myself. Do you remember the cry you had over them one night. Poor girl. The tears with both of us come very quickly, and to me, at times, they have been a great trouble, for I am always ere to burst forth when most I dislike it. I think I behaved wonderfully the last night that I parted with all my friends. It did seem H., when some came to bid me good bye with tearful eyes & grasping hands, that I could hardly suppress a tear.

I hear from home quite often. I have two homes now. And do not open your eyes too wide my dear girl, if I call Beverly so still. I look forward to the time when it will be most surely, though far in the distance, and this too I say only to you. I know you will be obedient and not show my letters as I asked you. Therefore I say many things that is for dear H. alone.

I receive regularly the Salem Register⁵ from Pa.⁶ He takes it on purpose for me. Is he not good? By them I see particular accounts of all the fires and doings in the vicinity of B., and I feel a sort of pride when I read of the praise bestowed on the Beverly Engines now. How much excited I imagine people to be!

Poor Mr. Weston has met with much loss for a young man just commencing in life! I am sorry for him. Do you recollect the ride to Brown's Hill that foggy night with J. W. Boyden,⁷ the loss of the bag, the visit to the Village Bank, and the politeness of Mr. W. Such little things I often think over. There are many little associations connected with them so pleasant.

There has not been a fire in Tarborough for eight years. I wonder at it, when I see the large fires in the kitchens, and know too how careless the tenders of them are naturally. However we have a good engine (only one) and plenty of water in Tar River. I think we shall get along right smart.

I want one good look at the Ocean from your beach. I miss the water prospect very much. I always loved to look at it, and hear the waves dash against the rocks, but I mean to gratify myself one of these days and have the pleasure of anticipation too.

You want to know and become well acquainted with all my friends. Also you imagine Miss Lawrence⁸ to be one, and her name to be Elizabeth. Her name is Elizabeth, and she has been (also her sister Martha) a dear good neighbor of mine, but I cannot call her an intimate congenial spirit, nor indeed can I say that I am intimate with any. Every one of the ladies in the town have been particularly attentive to me, more so than one would expect. Jo. Henry's⁹ old friends I feel more warmly attached to than any others, and he has many. The Clark and Parker family I visit more than any others, and I feel like going into some old friends house where I had been acquainted for years. I sit right down with them, wherever they may be, stay as long as I wish, carry my work, and chat about Beverly and answer many questions about you all at home.

You will feel interested to know who comprise the families. At Mrs. Parkers there is the old gent¹⁰ and lady,¹¹ he an excessively polite old gent about the age of your Father, and she is a smart, intelligent, talkative, and very domestic lady. They live in a very pretty painted white house surrounded with flowers & vines of every description, a perfect paradise. They have with them two married daughters, one Mrs. Chessire,¹² the wife of the Episcopal clergyman,¹³ and a widow with one child,¹⁴ Mrs. Hargrave,¹⁵ both very interesting young ladies between twenty and thirty. (You see that I call between twenty and thirty young. I am sure I cannot be old yet.) Mr. Chessire is the florist. To his taste every one refers in this quarter for advice. They (the old gent and lady) have one beautiful daughter¹⁶ about 16 at school in Raleigh. She is as handsome a girl as I ever saw, and such a lady. She has been at home for two months, her yearly vacation. Two sons,^{17, 18} one at home in ill health, the other away at school, comprise the family. Mr. Chessire supplies me with flowers constantly. Always when I go up there, I am sure to have a boquet when I leave.

The Clarks live directly opposite, Mrs. P. and Mrs. C.¹⁹ being sisters. Mr. Clark²⁰ died a year ago & the family has been much affected since. There is Mrs. Clark, Maria,²¹ & Mrs. Thomas,²² her husband²³ is a physician and a very intimate friend of Jo. Henrys. That will account for much visiting up there. Mrs. T. was married a year ago last Nov. and a month since lost her little daughter.²⁴ It is a sad thing to her, but it was not well, and never had been since its birth. Also another sister²⁵ came from Florida with her husband²⁶ in a very poor state of health, and arrived here the day that I did. He has since died and she can hardly be comforted. She did not realize his situation at all. Her little daughters^{27, 28} have taken a mighty fancy to me, and have visited me often. They are now gone with their mother to Raleigh to pass the summer. They are about the ages of Martha²⁹ & Ellen.³⁰ They used to say to me "Mrs. Bowditch, you are so little. You do not look like a woman." I try to appear as dignified as I can, and stretch up as tall as possible, to appear womanish, but to no avail. I can't grow. I shall be little.

Perhaps G'a³¹ told you of my first visit in the country. How delighted I was with it. I have been again at another place, and enjoyed my ride very much. It was to call upon a bride from Louisiana that had just arrived. She makes a short stay, his mother, himself and lady returning to her home in L_a.

The corn fields Hannah are immense. As far as the eye can reach in every direction will be seen nothing but corn, and the land too entirely level. It grows here, I should certainly think, as high again as with us, and the stalks are more slender.

I must bid you good bye tonight, shall finish soon.

Tuesday July 8th. I take up this letter to finish. You have been waiting for it a long while I know.

I thought of you all on the 4th and wondered if you were spending it as you did your last. Do you remember the walk to try to see the sky rockets with Miss Frink,³² when we had contemplated such a quiet eve by ourselves? I do, and how disappointed we both were.

You will feel interested to know how I spent mine. In the morn'g when I awoke it was raining in torrents. Such a rain as looks and appears as if it really was doing the ground much good. I thought I should have to stay in the house all day, and regretted (not for my own sake but for others that had thought much of the day) that it was so unfair. About nine o'clock it cleared away beautifully. The ground was damp, but not as it would be with you. The soil is so sandy that seldom you see ponds of water in the streets. It soaks into the ground very quickly.

Some of the ladies called for me, and I went to the church to hear an oration upon the death of Jackson³³ by Henry Clark,³⁴ a very talented young man, and brother to Miss Maria of whom I have spoken. A procession was to form at the court house and march to the church. It was composed of persons of both parties, and as I sat in church surrounded on all sides with sable drapery, and saw the procession slowly moving towards me clothed in black, and heard the low beating of the muffled drum, I could not feel otherwise than sad. After they had all taken their seats, a prayer was made, & after that the oration, full of the praise of Jackson. The services concluded with prayer, and we all departed for our homes.

In the afternoon there was an oration delivered by one of the boys of the Academy in the fields. It was said to be very good indeed, but I did not go as I was saving all my strength for the evenings entertainment. Mr. Bond,³⁵ a young man and a mechanic, announced some splendid fireworks and a balloon ascension in the eve'g. This was the first thing of the kind ever attempted here, and I expected to be much amused at the negroes remarks and actions. We went fast to the place and it appeared to me thousands were assembled. Many strangers from the whole county were there, and the negroes were beyond counting. Their noise was tremendous when the first wheel was fired. They danced & screamed, and appeared to be crazy. I staid till I had seen enough. I unfortunately had seen some before at the North. When I returned home I was really tired, though I had been doing nothing all day.

My dear H. I was surprised not to see more drunkards and dissipation. There was visible to my eyes but one happy man, who had to go to jail and pass the night. He was really bad off.

The farmers and country people about here are fine, good, worthy people. I expect to see how they live, and many new sights, for I am going to travel about for sight seeing the last of this month. You must write me soon, so that I may have a letter by that time.

Georgiana told me of your beaux in her last and said that Jane³⁶ wanted me to talk to you. I must reserve it till my next as I have left no room. Write me on good large paper, and very soon. Thank your father for the paper he sent me. I feel honored that he should think of me so far away.

Give much love to your parents and to Jane, and indeed to every body that would like it. I take much interest in all. Jo. Henry says "My respects to Hannah." We would both love to see you.

Where is E. W. You told me that she was going to leave Maryland the first of May and I did not mail the letter that I had written, thinking she would not get it. Tell me all about her, and say to her if she is with you, that when I know where to write I shall do so. Kiss her for me, and tell her to kiss you for me. I wish I could myself.

Good bye dear sister. Write very soon that I may get my letter before I start on my tour. I am in excellent health and have really got some color in my face. Again good bye.

E.

 

Copyright Charles Towne. Usage of this work is licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC 4.0
Compiler: Charles Towne

Page created by John Cardinal's Second Site v8.03.