Hillsboro, VA
20 January 1861
Dearest Adah,
I have thrice in the past month sat down to write, and have thrice been thwarted in my honorable intentions by the boisterous demands of this house! The whole farm conspires against our correspondence - firstly, the bull ram broke his fencing the day after Christmas and required pursuit by all of our immediate neighbors before he could trample every garden in the valley. He did manage to bust my Uncle Copeland's cider-still before Mason roped him, but Father confides with a smile that this is perhaps not so great a loss as my Uncle Copeland would have you believe. Secondly, on my next leisurely afternoon, the 6th, George set down a lantern in the milk-shed which Sally then kicked over, starting a fire which, had it not been for our quick application of snow, might have taken our milk shed as well as the store-barn with all the corn and wool we have not yet marketed - thanks be to Providence for His good favor in that instance! Thirdly, last Sunday the 13th my brothers were preserved through an adventure which set the house on its head and of which all the town is still talking.
We had gone in the Wilcoxes' sleigh to Round Hill after church to skate on Slater Lake. The entire Wilcox family had come along, as well as Mr. Fleming - upon whom I may find place to comment later. Well, little Jane Wilcox and her brother Winslow, neither of them much older than six or seven, despite all our careful precautions and warnings, skated down near to the mouth of Simpson Creek where the water runs swift into the creek mouth and the ice is dangerously thin. Water was running high in the creek because of the snows - thus both children broke through the ice and were swept into the creek!
Mr. Fleming saw them fall, thank the gracious Lord in Heaven, or we might never have recovered them, for they broke through and disappeared without a sound. My brothers and Mr. Fleming mounted instantly to ride down the creek in search of them. Little Jane had the good sense to hold onto a bare root which bridged the creek, and Fairchild was able to wade in rescue her soon after Mr. Fleming gave the alarm, but Winslow could not be seen or heard and we feared him to be forever lost. Abundant were our tears as we waited by the lakeside in fervent prayer for the child's deliverance, until - oh, Adah it seemed a lifetime had passed though it could not have been more than a quarter hour - we saw Mr. Fleming, George & Mason with little Winslow in his arms! Mason, in all of God's wise and tender providence, knew that creek from hunting it with my Hamilton uncles and remembered a spit of brush at a bend which, by riding hard, they reached before the Creek had swept the child so far. My brother, blind to his own danger and the deadly chill of the water, waded in, keeping one arm steady on the brush-bridge and one arm ready to catch the child as he was carried by. Winslow seemed lifeless when they caught him, but by steady working of his limbs and chest Mr. Fleming brought him to consciousness. The children were left in the care of Dr. Conway, whose house was nearby, and Mary Wilcox tells me they are both out of danger as of yesterday. We bundled Mason and Fairchild home, wet & shivering - soaked through as they both were it's a miracle only Mason took ill. I have been all week nursing him and the doctor has just this morning given him leave to rise from bed. Thus, my dear Adah, you see how water, fire and beast ally themselves to drive all other cares from my mind.
Yet I take up my father's paper this morning and find that the waters of public opinion, the fires of ideology, and the beasts in Washington have conspired to throw the land into uproar while I have been distracted husbanding my own small world here on The Hill. Five states torn away nearly all at once and the blood of our fathers spilled at Cowpens and Yorktown runs all to naught. Fairchild and George share Timothy's enthusiasms and our family dinners are one interminable soapbox oratory, which I will not repeat here. I almost prefer Mason's stoic and silent Unionism! Adah, you know my heart is with my native State and will always remain there, but as all possibility of peace slips away I can only mourn its loss, keeping a brave face - whatever befalls.
Do you remember the flag I sewed for the Arnold's Grove School so many years ago? A group of rowdy townsmen tore it down yesterday and trampled it beneath their horses' feet. Fairchild saw it where it lay and brought it to me for the sake of the labor spent on it. He bade me not to do it honor by washing or mending it, but I have brushed it clean and lain it away at the bottom of the linens chest - burying it in state, one might say, for the sake of its beauty and honored history.
Even so, in all this bellicose atmosphere it seems that love and harmonious feeling may find a place even when war should rise against us. Fairchild and Miss Wilcox did indeed declare their engagement at Christmas - though assuredly you have already seen the announcement in the papers. The Wilcoxes would like the wedding to occur at Woodlee in June, but I fear the engagement may be shortened - or, worse, lengthened indefinitely - if war seems imminent. I think Fairchild might prefer a simple ceremony under the Old Walnut here on The Hill, as Father and Mama were married, but the Wilcoxes are grand people and I expect will conquer in particulars.
I am much pleased to hear of your new friend, Mr. McCarty. I am sure he is a gentle and engaging young man in all respects, and I am all joy to hope he may bring your lovely smile back after your year of gloom. I am sure Timothy teases you often enough so I will not add to it but to share my hope that he spares your feet when first you dance with him. Preachers are not known for their knowledge of the Waltz - I spent much of Aunt Nadia's ball endeavoring to fill my card before I could be caught by one particularly long-toed parson. I needn't have fretted myself, however, for Fairchild put a number of his friends from Lexington at my service. Included among them was the notorious Mr. Fleming, show gallant action in the rescue of the Wilcox children I have already detailed. Oh Adah, you may have reason to doubt his worthiness now, but I am sure your opinion will match with mine when first you meet him. He is courteous, attentive, gallant and quick-thinking - not to mention a fine practitioner of the Waltz. He is a student of History at Washington College, but he says his heart is in farming and he is to inherit Mr. Allder's estate just over Short Hill when he comes of age next year. His attentions at the Ball were resolute, and we have little doubt as to his intentions. Father encourages me not to rush into romance, as the world seems so foolishly to rush into everything at present, but he approves of Mr. Fleming's company as it stands. The are both scholars, and Father is downstairs even as I write helping him with a translation of Cicero.
I hope you may soon meet Mr. Fleming, as I look forward to visiting with Mr. McCarty if ever the opportunity arises. Tell Timothy he can tease all he likes, but I hope he will forgive the promise I made him when were both children at White Oaks - he will know what I speak of and I hope you will laugh mercilessly at the blush I am sure it will bring to his countenance. He may return my lock of hair if he wishes, though I am convinced he has lost it after all these years - we were not seven years old at the time!
I pray you all may be whole and happy. Your affectionate friend,
M.E.H. Copeland
20 January 1861
Dearest Adah,
I have thrice in the past month sat down to write, and have thrice been thwarted in my honorable intentions by the boisterous demands of this house! The whole farm conspires against our correspondence - firstly, the bull ram broke his fencing the day after Christmas and required pursuit by all of our immediate neighbors before he could trample every garden in the valley. He did manage to bust my Uncle Copeland's cider-still before Mason roped him, but Father confides with a smile that this is perhaps not so great a loss as my Uncle Copeland would have you believe. Secondly, on my next leisurely afternoon, the 6th, George set down a lantern in the milk-shed which Sally then kicked over, starting a fire which, had it not been for our quick application of snow, might have taken our milk shed as well as the store-barn with all the corn and wool we have not yet marketed - thanks be to Providence for His good favor in that instance! Thirdly, last Sunday the 13th my brothers were preserved through an adventure which set the house on its head and of which all the town is still talking.
We had gone in the Wilcoxes' sleigh to Round Hill after church to skate on Slater Lake. The entire Wilcox family had come along, as well as Mr. Fleming - upon whom I may find place to comment later. Well, little Jane Wilcox and her brother Winslow, neither of them much older than six or seven, despite all our careful precautions and warnings, skated down near to the mouth of Simpson Creek where the water runs swift into the creek mouth and the ice is dangerously thin. Water was running high in the creek because of the snows - thus both children broke through the ice and were swept into the creek!
Mr. Fleming saw them fall, thank the gracious Lord in Heaven, or we might never have recovered them, for they broke through and disappeared without a sound. My brothers and Mr. Fleming mounted instantly to ride down the creek in search of them. Little Jane had the good sense to hold onto a bare root which bridged the creek, and Fairchild was able to wade in rescue her soon after Mr. Fleming gave the alarm, but Winslow could not be seen or heard and we feared him to be forever lost. Abundant were our tears as we waited by the lakeside in fervent prayer for the child's deliverance, until - oh, Adah it seemed a lifetime had passed though it could not have been more than a quarter hour - we saw Mr. Fleming, George & Mason with little Winslow in his arms! Mason, in all of God's wise and tender providence, knew that creek from hunting it with my Hamilton uncles and remembered a spit of brush at a bend which, by riding hard, they reached before the Creek had swept the child so far. My brother, blind to his own danger and the deadly chill of the water, waded in, keeping one arm steady on the brush-bridge and one arm ready to catch the child as he was carried by. Winslow seemed lifeless when they caught him, but by steady working of his limbs and chest Mr. Fleming brought him to consciousness. The children were left in the care of Dr. Conway, whose house was nearby, and Mary Wilcox tells me they are both out of danger as of yesterday. We bundled Mason and Fairchild home, wet & shivering - soaked through as they both were it's a miracle only Mason took ill. I have been all week nursing him and the doctor has just this morning given him leave to rise from bed. Thus, my dear Adah, you see how water, fire and beast ally themselves to drive all other cares from my mind.
Yet I take up my father's paper this morning and find that the waters of public opinion, the fires of ideology, and the beasts in Washington have conspired to throw the land into uproar while I have been distracted husbanding my own small world here on The Hill. Five states torn away nearly all at once and the blood of our fathers spilled at Cowpens and Yorktown runs all to naught. Fairchild and George share Timothy's enthusiasms and our family dinners are one interminable soapbox oratory, which I will not repeat here. I almost prefer Mason's stoic and silent Unionism! Adah, you know my heart is with my native State and will always remain there, but as all possibility of peace slips away I can only mourn its loss, keeping a brave face - whatever befalls.
Do you remember the flag I sewed for the Arnold's Grove School so many years ago? A group of rowdy townsmen tore it down yesterday and trampled it beneath their horses' feet. Fairchild saw it where it lay and brought it to me for the sake of the labor spent on it. He bade me not to do it honor by washing or mending it, but I have brushed it clean and lain it away at the bottom of the linens chest - burying it in state, one might say, for the sake of its beauty and honored history.
Even so, in all this bellicose atmosphere it seems that love and harmonious feeling may find a place even when war should rise against us. Fairchild and Miss Wilcox did indeed declare their engagement at Christmas - though assuredly you have already seen the announcement in the papers. The Wilcoxes would like the wedding to occur at Woodlee in June, but I fear the engagement may be shortened - or, worse, lengthened indefinitely - if war seems imminent. I think Fairchild might prefer a simple ceremony under the Old Walnut here on The Hill, as Father and Mama were married, but the Wilcoxes are grand people and I expect will conquer in particulars.
I am much pleased to hear of your new friend, Mr. McCarty. I am sure he is a gentle and engaging young man in all respects, and I am all joy to hope he may bring your lovely smile back after your year of gloom. I am sure Timothy teases you often enough so I will not add to it but to share my hope that he spares your feet when first you dance with him. Preachers are not known for their knowledge of the Waltz - I spent much of Aunt Nadia's ball endeavoring to fill my card before I could be caught by one particularly long-toed parson. I needn't have fretted myself, however, for Fairchild put a number of his friends from Lexington at my service. Included among them was the notorious Mr. Fleming, show gallant action in the rescue of the Wilcox children I have already detailed. Oh Adah, you may have reason to doubt his worthiness now, but I am sure your opinion will match with mine when first you meet him. He is courteous, attentive, gallant and quick-thinking - not to mention a fine practitioner of the Waltz. He is a student of History at Washington College, but he says his heart is in farming and he is to inherit Mr. Allder's estate just over Short Hill when he comes of age next year. His attentions at the Ball were resolute, and we have little doubt as to his intentions. Father encourages me not to rush into romance, as the world seems so foolishly to rush into everything at present, but he approves of Mr. Fleming's company as it stands. The are both scholars, and Father is downstairs even as I write helping him with a translation of Cicero.
I hope you may soon meet Mr. Fleming, as I look forward to visiting with Mr. McCarty if ever the opportunity arises. Tell Timothy he can tease all he likes, but I hope he will forgive the promise I made him when were both children at White Oaks - he will know what I speak of and I hope you will laugh mercilessly at the blush I am sure it will bring to his countenance. He may return my lock of hair if he wishes, though I am convinced he has lost it after all these years - we were not seven years old at the time!
I pray you all may be whole and happy. Your affectionate friend,
M.E.H. Copeland
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