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I have recruited myself by some of the substantial comforts
of life, have brushed off the evidences of dust & tiresome travel,
and feel tolerably well prepared to come into the presance of a
lady. So I make you my politest salutation & beg to enquire how
you have been since Sunday evening—the occasion upon which I had
the honor of last addressing you. You see I have not waited for
an answer from my sweetheart before writing again to her,-an encouragement,
I trust, to her to "go and do likewise". I hope she &
I will agree to banish all meedless conventional formalities from
our intercourse epistolary, as we have nearly done from our personal
interviews. In sincerity however I do not know that I can
claim any credit for not awaiting a reply from you on the present
occasion, for I was really ashamed almost to send you the letter
I did, (which I presume you got by this day's mail & are probably
now reading), I am the more provoked at it, because I learned afterwards
that my haste was needless, the mail closing at 9 o'c,
instead of 8 o'c, as I had been informed. So you may take that &
this together to make up a letter. And if you are so good & kind
(as I hope you will be) to reply to both, I shall consider the
second as a gratuitous free-will offering of your love,-one of the
numerous exhibitions of affection which my dear Mary has given me.
When I wrote to you last, I gave you a short outline of my movements
up to Sunday evening. On Monday I expected to see a great
deal that would be interesting, it being the day upon which the
celebration of the 4th was expected to take place, but, doubtless
with many others, I was disappointed. Barring a good deal of noise
produced by firing cannon, pistols, crackers etc, & the parade of
some companies of soldiers and firemen, there was nothing done. I
wished to go down to Alexandria in the morning. It happened that
at the same time a delegation of Washington democrats were proceeding
to the same place, to hold a barbecue, & a gentleman who
was marching in the procession advised us to fall into the line &
march with them, as those in the procession would probably be the
only ones who would be able to get on the boat. I did not wish to
lose the opportunity of getting to Alex.a, & so, without a moments
reflection, we three joined the march-& there we were, 3 staunch
Loudoun Whigs, marching down Penn.a Avenue in broad daylight, with
thousands of spectators (among whom I feared there were some (students
or others) who would recognize me), & before us the broad
banner of the "Jackson Democratic Assoc" or something of that sort,
I felt most uncomfortably ridiculous there, sweating along under
the enemies colors. Thought I to myself "this will be a death-blow
Frank Smith, to any political aspirations you may have". After
marching a mile thro' the dust, I contrived to slip out to the
sidewalk & so left them, "And when this associa.n next doth march
abroad"
[OMITTED]"May I "not" be there to see". [OMITTED]
I wish I could say the disasters of the day ended here. At some
unlucky hour, I heard of a Sunday School picnic to be held in the
woods near Bladensburg, at what was painted to me as a delightful
Spring. So Summerfield & I got on the cars at 12½ o'c & in a few
minutes we were on the ground. We found collected a large number
of girls & boys, of small & large growth, some swinging, some
surrounded a place where ham & bread were dealt out gratis, but
the greater part looking to see what the others were doing. The
we might have felt at first. Then for about 5 mortal hours
we were terribly bored, having to wait for the cars at 6 o'clock.
We were glad to get back to the city again, & at 8 were gratified
with the sight of some curious fireworks in the rear of the Presidents
grounds. This morning at 3 we started for home, & as you
know already, reached Leesburg safely. I found my relations all
well,-the old town as dry as ever. I have not put my nose out of
doors yet & consequently cannot tell how my old friends are. I
begin to feel lonely and dull already, & my dear love will guess
the reason. However kind & affectionate friends & kinsfolk may be,
they cant supply the place of a warm, confiding, sympathising
heart, & that the heart of a woman. I feel desolate away from you.
While living in an atmosphere that breathed of love & devotion, I
thought little of its true value, not considering that there could
be any different state of circumstances, but when one feels that
chilly gaze that tells you, you are a stranger, or encounter those
who can not attune their own feelings to his own, then it is that
the priceless richness of a reciprocated affection, the value of
a pulse that beats more quickly at the mention of his name, is
most deeply felt. Such are my own feelings, dear Mary. To you I
can turn, when all others turn away. Your heart will respond to
appeals, which might be lost on others. I shall ever find an advocate
there, no matter how many my accusers may be. My love, you
have thought, I know, at times that I doubted your constancy. Whatever
my conduct may have led you to imagine, I assure you it is &
has always been the most gratifying reflection to me, that you
loved me well & constantly. I put as implicit faith in the depth
& ardor of your affection, as I do in whatever I believe most firmly.
I prize it as the richest jewel I possess. I have thought,
since seated here, that not much over 100 miles from here, you are
now reading or sewing (or doing something else you ought not), I
can imagine you there, & O! the cruel fate that limits our bodily
capacities, while our imaginations are unrestrained. To be mute in
the presence of my love, even when that presence is imaginary. Can
you not divise some spiritual telegraph to supply this want?
I know my dear, dear one remembers mw when she kneels before
her Heavenly Father-& prays fervently for me, as I now pray for her
I have had sore conflicts of late, if that can be called conflict
in which there was scarcely any resistance. How much is there in
the past, which, with its effects, I would give worlds if I could
to blot out forever. Sorer trials, I fear, await me, & perhaps
very soon. You, my own love, who feel for me, will you ask God to
save me? A fervent, effectual prayer of my Mary's may-will avail
doubtless. If in some unguarded moment, I am betrayed by myself, I
fear the result. God bless & crown you with his most gracious benedictions
Let us hope that all will yet work for good.
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