Letter 7
Virginia to Petersham
Sarah A. B. Lincoln to Miss Ellen M. Lincoln
Petersham, March 31, 1847
Dear Sister Ellen,
You will perceive by my date that I have bid farewell to the shores of Va. and arrived safe in old Petersham, though not so much to the astonishment of the people as I expected, considering that the last time I had written I had informed them I should not come before fall, certainly, and perhaps not until spring and should not have done so had I not had a letter from Olivia last Thursday evening, which entirely altered my plans. I was expecting to have gone this week or next to the upper part of Loudoun to teach in a private family, with a salary of $100. or $125 per year. But Olivia’s letter caused me such anxiety about Mother that I thought I could not remain there in any degree contented till I could hear from them again. So Wednesday morning I thought I would summon all my firmness and resolution to my aid, and come to Mass alone. I left about nine o’clock in the stage, arrived in Alexandria at five, took the boat for Washington and reached the hotel about dark, with my head aching as though it would burst. I retired immediately and rested very well, took the cars at six and was soon whirling along to Baltimore, stopped but a few minutes, and then were again on our way to Philadelphia, where we arrived at about three and . I became acquainted with a lady in the cars who told me she was in company with two other ladies and were going to New York. One of them was a Miss McIntyre from Hartford who had been visiting her sister in Petersburg in Va. and was returning home with these ladies. They were milliners and going to New York for goods. As they kindly consented to make me the fourth, in their company, I went with them to a private boarding house to spend the night. Friday morning, I went out with them - passed through several streets, then stopped at a shop where artificial flowers were made. The ladies purchased quite a quantity to take back to Va. with them. They then told me they would show me Broadway - we called on two of the most fashionable Millinery and mantua making establishments in Broadway. Before we left the last one it began to rain - and the streets were soon running with water - so that we had to take an omnibus to take us to Fulton Street. I was very much disappointed, as I could have seen much more of the place by walking. I took the boat at five in the evening, it was still raining very hard, and my friends tried to persuade me not to start - but I did not apprehend any danger as it was very calm being no wind at all - and when we left the wharf I could hardly perceive the motion of the boat, so calm and peaceful did it glide along. I retired very early, so as to be ready at one o’clock to take the cars at Norwich for Worcester. But we were not destined to see Worcester that night - about nine o’clock the wind rose, and blew very hard. I could not go to sleep, so I got up - but I could not go across the saloon without holding to every chair and post I came to, the boat rocked so - and it made me so seasick I had to lie down again. At 11 o’clock the wind continued blowing so furiously the captain thought it unsafe to proceed, so we turned into New Haven harbor and anchored our boat. The chambermaid told us we should go no farther that night and we might as well go to bed. So I crept out of my berth once more, and undressed, and slept soundly until daylight. We lay at anchor till about 2 in the afternoon of Sat. when we started again, though the storm and wind had not ceased. Some of the time it seemed as though the boat would go over first one side then the other - now on the top of this wave, and then down that - but I suppose we were in no danger then, though we were in the night. At about dark we arrived at Allen’s Point and took the cars for Norwich about two miles, where we had to wait until ten o’clock for the steamboat and accommodation train for Worcester.
Arrived in Wor. about two Sunday morning, was conducted to the American Temperence House by a young gentleman from Fitchburg, whom I had become somewhat acquainted with in the cars. I was right glad to go to bed and to sleep I’ll assure you. I went to church all day, to the Baptist Church on Pleasant Street in the morning, to the Old South Church in the afternoon and the Union Church in the evening. Did not see a familiar face in W. until I had taken the stage Monday morning when we were riding up Main Street for passengers. I saw someone standing in a door that I thought looked like Lewis Balls and I was not deceived, for very soon he appeared by the side of the stage. Said he thought he saw a Lady that he knew and was determined to find out. When I got to P. thought I would not go to the Dr’s for I wanted to see Mother first, so I went into the sitting room and sat down with my back to the door, so that if any one should come in that I knew, they would not think of me for I did not want to see anybody until I had been home. I very soon heard the Dr’s voice on the piazza and hesitated a moment about going to speak to him, but I was so anxious to hear from Mother, concluded I would - so I went to the door and said, “Dr. Said he, “What?” (My veil was over my face so he did not know me at once and came towards me. “Why Sarah Anne, is this you?” was his exclamation. “I thought it was Olivia.” I suppose my voice sounded like hears was what made him think so. He insisted upon my going up there so I did. He told Olivia she HAD better get into the stage and come down here with me but he finally concluded to come down with me in his buggy.
I found Mother much better than I expected and truly glad was I, for I had borrowed so much trouble about her that I felt most sick myself. She sits up most all day and sews and does some light chores. She looks rather pale, but not near so poor as I feared she would be. Everything looks as natural as when I left excepting Charles and Janette, who have grown outrageously, and C’s voice sounds so unnatural. He says it has not sounded natural since he was sick. I can hardly realize that I have been away a year, I told the Dr. and O. I haven’t been to Va., I know I haven’t. It seems, by what I have heard, that people have made a tremendous fuss about me. I told Mrs. Ayres the evening before I started, that I didn’t care if I did not go to Mass. for six years if it was not for Mother, brothers and sisters, but I was afraid they would fret my poor Mother to death if I didn’t come home. Had I thought of finding her so well as I did I should no have come for I wanted to go into that gentleman’s family very much indeed - and I would have been much better for me, for I don’t expect I can earn anything here. Charles says I had better get a school somewhere here this summer, but I tell him I shan’t try to, if anybody wants me they may come after me. I’ll tell you, Ellen, if you will get me school there that will be worth from two to three dollars a week besides my board, or a private school of between 30 and 40 scholars, I will step into the stage some day and go down and see you. Perhaps they would like to have a Southern Lady to teach school. Oh! nonsense, Miss Sarah A. B., do write sense or nothing at all! But I beg your pardon, when are you coming home? I want to see you, I can’t tell how much. Do you earn a good deal? I want you should come home and fix my bonnet. Write as soon as you get this and tell us when you are coming home. Give my respects to Mrs. Peters and tell her I want to see her.
Goodbye, from your sis., Sarah A. B.
(Mother is going to write a little on the margin)
It has been snowing all day, till now it has cleared off very pleasant. The Dr. just rode down to the door and told me if I wanted to have a sleigh ride to get ready to go back with him, so I am going. Wish you were here to go too. I do want to see you so do come home.
Aunt Esther and Lucy were down to Aunt P’s. yesterday, so I have seen them. I have no room to write the news in P., but write to us soon as possible and we will write again, if you don’t come home. Mother says tell Ellen Susan Gower is at work in the Button Shop.
Mother says I should tell you that my silk dress, alpacca and Mousaline dolaine and white are as good as they were when I went away. She thinks you are (not) so careful of your clothes as you ought to be, but she is very much pleased with your present, as also is Janette. S.
Very dear Ellen,
I received your letter and present, for which I thank you. You hoped I had a happy day the 2. The eve. previous the Dr. came down said I (Mother began to write a few lines to you but it worried her so she thought I had better finish, so I will resume where I left off. ) had hardly any pulse at all. Remained so during the night and next day still more exhausted until after noon. When the Dr. came again I asked him whether after having passed the various distressing scenes of a for (rubbed out) day, I should sink under them. He said he did not know. But through the goodness and mercy of Him who does all things well, I was permitted to return into the room with my family on Monday. Have not sat up all day yet. You can never realize how much your company and assistance have been needed. I have been very much blamed for not sending for you. Have told no one the principal reason, but will tell you that you may more duly appreciate your spiritual privileges, for if indeed your mind has been wrought up can only say, God grant you may not fail of experiencing that change of heart, without which no one can meet God in peace.
L. has received a letter from M.J.P. She had a very pleasant journey - has opened her school and likes very much. Give my love to Mrs. Peters and Jane.
Letter 8
back to teaching in petersham
From Sarah A. B. Lincoln to Miss Ellen M. Lincoln, Holliston, Mass.
Petersham, June 6, 1847
Dear Sis:
I have been “school-ma’am” one week in Dis. No. 10, Petersham, Mass. Now what do you think: I told the folks I should not teach this summer, unless a school came to me - should not put myself to any trouble about obtaining one - and I did not. I took it as much to accomodate the agent, (Mr. Lot Stone) as myself, for I was quite indifferent about teaching. He had engaged a cousin of his, but she having an application to teach at home, chose to do so - consequently the election of your humble sis, to the all important vocation, of teaching some twenty or more ill- mannered, ill governed masters and misses, and last, but not least, to please their un-pleasable, fault-finding papas and mamas. I know not how I shall succeed - but hope and al l necessary virtues will be granted. Lot said if we had a good school it would keep three months. I board at home - get right tired walking so far, scolding all day and home again at night, I’ll assure you. My health is generally good though my head aches a good deal. I was weighed yesterday - weighed 142 - the same I did last summer. I don’t reckon I shall weigh so much when my school is done, unless it agrees with me right well to walk so far. Janette weighed 109 - she is my “biggest” scholar.
Ellen G. and Maria are at home this summer. Ellen is making up new dresses - white, gingham and calico - don’t know what Mria is doing. By the way, “Dr.” George is at home, have not seen him to speak with him, though Olivia said he was at church this morning, but I did not know him. But doubtless you know more of his whereabouts and “whatabouts” more than myself. When are you coming home? We all want to see you very much, (“Dr.” George, too, I suppose, though I have not heard him say so) write and let us know. I shall expect you in just five weeks, come before that time if you can.
You will perceive that I can not come down, to accompany you to Boston, on the 4th, though I should like to do so, much. Will send the “Doctor” in my place, (that is if I can) which substitute will, doubtless, be quite as agreeable to my sis as my own fair self. Cousin Emily is teaching in Mr. Gaulet’s district - in Athol. Mary Ann Packham teaches about a mile and half from her - both have small schools. May Simmons is teaching in their district, Susan Tower in Mr. Stowell’s district. Augustus Tower was at church today with his bride. She is a very pretty looking maiden indeed. Our meeting-house presents a very different appearance from what it formerly has done. There is considerable disaffection in the Unitarian Society, and several of the most prominent members have “signed off” - some of whom, with their families, come to our church. I did not know hardly half of the people there today. Our benevolent ladies have go the house white-washed and repainted in the inside - so it looks most as good as new.
Our common presents a very desolate appearance - it does not look like Petersham at all since the fire. There have been various rumors that buildings are going to be erected on the sites of the old ones, but don't think that anything decisive has been done. I believe, however, Mr. Barr is going to put up a steam-shop on West Street, for pressing hats and his turning business, and rumor says a grist-mill but that is questionable. I don’t know of anything in the shape of news, only that Thomas Howe and Charlotte Bigelow are to be married this week. I suppose that they will attend our church, the Howes being among the “Seceders”. Charlotte and her brother were there today. Mr. Seth Hopgood has hired a pew and comes there constantly. The Farrar girls have gone to Nashua to shop this spring. Martha Brannan is at work in a Florence shop in Barre. If you can, bring home some pieces of braid to fix Janette’s bonnet with, it is too small. Last fall I had mine fixed, as near as it could be, in the prevailing fashion - but did not like it. So, since I returned, thought I would try my own skill and taste in transforming it back into a cottage. I succeeded beyond my expectations, sent it to Miss Bigelow to be whitened and pressed and have trimmed it with some straw colored ribbon, so that it makes quite a pretty bonnet, I think. Mother wanted I should fix Janette’s, but I did not dare to try.
L. despatched a letter to M. J. P. last week. Her address is Wagomanville, P.O., Upson Co., Ga. I believe you enquired in your letter. I have been just two hours writing this letter, so you must excuse all errors on the ground of haste.
Tell Elvira her sisters have got to be great girls, most as large as I am, Mary said she weighed 125 and Maria 126. They came home with their beaus to spend Election day. They came in great style and mad a great swing, I could not begin to come up to them, you need not tell her the last. Mary is now at home, she has very sore eyes. Her friends are well. Give my love to her and tell her I should be much pleased to come down and see her, but as that can not be hope I shall see her in P. this fall.
Mother sends much love to you. Says she hopes you are a full hearted, exemplary, devoted Christian. Wishes that in your prayers you would remember the wicked, ungodly inhabitants of P. Olivia and Janette send love, and want to see you very much, but not more than I do. I told Mother the other day it did not seem as though I had a sister Ellen it has been so long since I have seen you. You must come home and spend the fall at any rate. Write as soon as you have received this, and tell us when to look for you.
Sarah.
Letter 10
BACK IN pETERSHAM
From Sarah A. B. Lincoln to Miss Ellen M. Lincoln, Holliston, Mass.
Petersham June 26, 1847
Dear Sister,
I have a world of things to write and but a minute and a half (comparatively) to write in and first and foremost is the wish, both expressed and implied, that you come home. Indeed we shall take it very unkindly of you if you do not come. Mother says she thinks you can’t want to see us very much, and also that you don’t say anything about wanting to see anybody by Aunt P. and myself.
Now I came all the way from Va. at a great sacrifice, thinking that sacrifice would be more than counter-balanced in the pleasure of seeing my friends, and I can not say I am sorry, although I should have been much better off than I now am. I should not think you would want to stay there an do house-work or anything else this warm weather. You might earn $1.50 a week braiding, and not work very hard either. As for your clothes, you need not mind them, all I have had new this summer is a calico and gingham. I had three calico ones while I was gone, two of which I sold, the other is here but is so faded I don’t pretend to wear it much - all my other clothes are those that everybody has seen me wear - but I don’t care for that. So I beg of you not to stay for that, you can make up your new once here as well as there - so again I say come home. I received your letter last evening and am hurrying with all my might to write this before school so as to send by the stage this morning - for I want you should get it Monday and come home Tuesday - so as to go down to Mr. Brannan’s in the evening with us. We were to Mr. Johnson’s Thursday evening and to Mr. Gale’s last evening. I told them we expected you home after the fourth. George thinks of being at home two or three weeks longer, I suppose he wants to see you before leaving. We think of having a horseback ride the fourth if there isn’t anything else. I am going to teach today so as to have next Saturday for some kind of frolic at any rate - and the week after I thought you would be at home and I should want to spend the day with you at home. If you do not get this letter in season to come home Tuesday, as soon as you do get it, put your things into your trunk (don’t stop to put them in very slick either) and make your appearance in Petersham forthwith. You will be sorry if you don’t come, we want you here next Saturday at any rate. Everybody says I am going back to Va. and you know what everybody says must be true, so if you want to see me before I go you had better come directly. It will not be convenient for me to go down, to go to Boston, I have traveled enough to find that there is not much pleasure in travelling, without some friend who is interested in showing you the pretty things to be seen. And I do not care to go to Boston or any other place until I have some one to go with me, and sis I think you had better wait for you will enjoy it much better than to go with strangers. The clock has just struck eight, and I must close. I hope you will excuse both the rhetoric and logic of this letter. Now be sure and be at home some day next week, when I get home from school. (If) You wish to go back you can, but I don’t think you had better before next winter or spring. And then if “James” wishes to have you go back and work for him you may (by the way, we should like to know who “James” is) , but I think you will have to make some preparation. Perhaps he will come home with you and ride horseback, give him my compliments and tell him I should be very happy &c.
If I had time I would write this page down with the two words “come home”. It is the united wish of us all, and if you do not come we shall think you do not love us.
Goodby until next week, Sarah A. B.
P.S. Give my love to Elvira, her friends are well.
An Acrostic for Miss Sarah A. B. Lincoln
S oft the sunlight falls on childhood
A ll to us seems fair and bright
R ound us every pleasure hovers
A dding joy from morn till night
H appy days! how pleasure brightens ever as they take their flight
A ll on earth is changing ever
B rightest hopes substantial never
L ose not time in fruitless sorrow
I ll repaid such grief will prove
N ever give pain: Grief ne’er borrow
C ultivate a generous mind
O to Earth’s lone erring children
L ost in sin, - be ever kind
N e’er ws mortal so degraded but would heed the voice of love
L ady accept these tributary lays
O ffered most humbly. - In the hollow praise
O f heartless hypocrites I never deal
K now that to pure goodness all most gladly kneel.
Written by one who wishes you much joy in the untried future which is before you.
Respectfully &c.
S. Angeline Mason.
Petersham, Jan 9th/48
[Sarah and Nathan Look were married in Petersham the next day, Jan 10, 1848)
TO: 1848
