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Letter from Walter Reed to Emilie B. Lawrence, June 17, 1875 | |
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Did it ever oc- |
 | seen me, you would have exclaim- ed, "blues, unmistably, blues"! But now, how sweetly the lark sings! and how have the hoarse-sounding billows been transformed into ebrous sky put on its azure robe! and could you, at this time, behold me, you would say, "bliss, and only bliss"! If you will, imagine the happiness of some poor mortal, who having been promised a cottage, is given a palace & servants to do his bidding; Or if it please thee more, imagine the joy of a weary, thirst-smitten traveller, who, seeing a fountain in the dis- tance, on approaching finds not only the cool, refreshing draught, but also a tempting banquet spread before his gaze: Or |
 | yet more appropriate, imagine the exhultation of a lover, who scarcely expecting the arrival of one letter from his lady- love, receives two! Could you blame him for any demon- strations he might make, how- ever frantic? Surely you are the dearest, sweetest girl that ever was born in or out of the Old North State! The only wonder to me is that I have suf- ficiently recovered from the ef- fects of those dear messages to be able to write intelligibly. Indeed, I am afraid that I can't accomplish the latter, and, if not, you will know the cause. Pardon me, a moment, while I make a slight digression, and hurl a few thunder-bolts at the unworthy head of my brother |
 | Jim. The careless fellow! who promised faithfully to visit Portsmouth within a day or two & forward your letter, & then neglected it till last Monday, while I might have pressed it to my heart a week earlier, he permitted it to lie in a sorry Post Office &, perhaps, [to be] tossed about by a sorrier it is for him that many miles separate us or I would make him rue his misconduct. To think of the many favors I have conferred upon him, & to be thus treated. It's too bad! But in my joy I have forgiven him, & must hasten to tell you |
 | of your letters & how I felt and acted. Well, to begin -- You must know that for the past week, I have proven a source of much amusement for homefolks by my promt attendan Post Office, & coming home, each day, without a letter from you, & with an elongated counte- nance, (it is never very short, which you may have observed,) they have had many good laughs, at my expense. Still, honest untiring effort is rarely or never disappointed in this world, & so it came to pass in this particular instance. Nothing daunted (ah! observe my confidence!) I visited the office, Wednesday, & to my unboun- |
 | ded delight, received two of the sweetest letters in all creation. Call me foolish, if you like, and laugh as heartily as you please, I won't retract the assertion! I immediately opened the one di- rected to Portsmouth, & began to read it as I walked along the street. After reading the first two pages, I came to that part of your letter where you spoke of lengethened separation caus- ing "indifference" (& at that I began to open my eyes); farther on I found a quotation from Virgil on the mutability of woman; & yet farther I found an "inconstant heart"! Said I, "Shades of Plato! What does this mean? This is the climax of the inexplicable! Why does my darling girl write me about hearts being "inconstant"? |
 | Separation causing indifference! When not even death itself could, for one moment, blot her from my memory! I this!" And sure enough, I did not read another line, but closed the letter & walked home, thinking of woman's changeableness- As soon as I got home, I sought my room & a second time began its perusal; when lo! the very first sentence that my eye alighted upon was, "but enough of irony"! "Oh," I exclaimed, "Heaven bless my sweet girl for that word, irony." Never before did I know its full force! If I loved you, 'twas at that moment. I had not doubted you -- I could not do that -- but yet I could not un- derstand how you could write to me in such a queer strain- But "irony" rolled away the cloud, |
 | & the remainder of your letter was sweeter to me than & the honey-comb"- & your second letter did but add to the sweetness- I endorsed all your words, except where you spoke of "woman's heart" as "Cherishing a love deeper & purer than is possible for Man"- It may be the general rule, but, my precious girl, there are some excep- tions, & you will yet know the significance of my words. Never can your love exceed mine in depth or purity- In my heart of hearts thou shalt ever nestle, & there thou shall reign supreme, & while with the battles of life I wrestle, to love thee be my constant dream-- |
 | I am very sorry that you did not receive a letter at the time expected & was thus disappointed. I know that I promised to write two a week, but as I wrote three or four the first week after parting, I was afraid that they were pouring in a little oftener than was a- greeable- Still, as they bring you "much pleasure," you shall not be deprived of them. I'll write twice a week from this time, till we next meet- You must not expect a great deal in each letter, and must be satisfied whether they are good, bad or indif- ferent. I'll write Mondays & Thursdays, &, on this account, |
 | these days shall be dearer to me than ever before. I was much surprised at the fact that Miss B.R. knew anything of our engagement, for I don't know what was the source of her information. I am inclined to think that She pretended to know a great deal, & by that means, ascertained what she was before igno- rant of. I never told "Mr Kit" a word concerning the suc- cess of my trip to Murfrees- boro. He wrote to me & asked many questions. In reply, I used this expression; "if discarded, I should be loth to tell you, since I know you would straightway divulge it to B.R. & she to all Murfreesboro, & I do not desire that the whole town |
 | should be informed of the failure of my suit." You see that the above does not convey any very important information, & what it does convey, is rather negative. If he wrote to Miss B.R. & told her that we were engaged, he was stretching his imagination, & the young College Miss, in telling others, was putting her fancy to its extremest tenuity. (I believe that she is capable of such things, as well as my brother.) I will write to the Westerner & tell him to bridle his Adorable's tongue, lest she seek new fields for conquest- You might have announced to her that you, too, knew a small piece of news;- but I pre- sume, it was best that you did not- The photograph will be |
 | taken & forwarded next week, and I will be responsible for its being a much better looking face than the original. By the way, I must tell you that I remain, always, |