University of Virginia Library

Letter from Adelaide E. Case to Charles N. Tenney, July 2, 1862

If I thought there
was so much happiness for me as the
probability of soon seeing my loved Charlie
I would not write this morning but
as every thing generally goes contrary to
our wishes and expectations. I doubt not
but that such will prove to be the case
now. I do not know why I had so
anxiously waited and looked for your
return, this 4th but as the drowning man
catches at a straw. I clung to the
little encouragement. Lieut Brisvine gave
you. and even now I shudder at the
thought of abandoning that hope.
There is scarcely a day but that I hear
of some soldier coming home to meet his
friends, and when I think of Charlie

so long absent. I find myself fervently
wishing that others were obliged to stay away
as long as he. I know it is a cruel
wicked wish. but it is perfectly natural
for human beings to wish for someone
to share their trials as well as their
joys or at least to sympathize with
them and when I see others so happy
because a dear friend has returned from
from the wars, I wonder why such
happiness is given to some and denied
to others. You will call me an "ungrate-
ful little minx" as Hallie says. but
refer the case to yourself. Look way down
in the naughty corners. (If you have
such) of your heart and if you do not
find just such rebellious thoughts,
striving so hard to get the control. then
call me a poor judge. But you will
say I am arguing both sides will you
not?

I am

the news in
yesterdays paper. The report in mondays
paper was that Richmond had fallen.
or --risen. I guess the latter. at least that
Uncle Sam had/has it again. and I wish
so much to have it confirmed. I can
hardly wait to hear, Would that peace
could be declared the fourth. would
not that memorable day be doubly dear?
Dear Charlie. my scholars are coming and
making such a noise that I must cease
writing for the present.