1877 text

 

Simcoe

August 21, 1877

My dear Jacob,
You did write me a nice letter in answer to the mean one I sent you. I felt very wicked the day I wrote but no worse than I have felt for many months. I am surprised when I look at my heart, surprised that a heart could change so much in a few months. I think there are sorrows the bring us near to Christ, but I know there are sorrows that deaden and ()sh out every spark of Christian life in the soul. There are times when we want no one to know our hearts, and almost murmur because God can see then. So I have felt for weeks and still do feel, this is the only excuse I have to writing such mean letters. You did not tell me your address when you leave Papineauville 1, so I must write this week.
Jacob I dont know what to say. I am not in a frame of mind fit to write to you. This confession I will make to you only and all the hard things I may say please attribute them to this. I am very very unhappy. Now Jacob I pray dont smile and say as you said once that I make a great deal out of nothing. O my friend, if you will only believe me and know that it is possible for me to have some trouble I would be so glad. I dont want your pity but I want you alone to know that my heart is not in this state without a cause. It cannot last before very long you will, with the rest of the world, know much more about it than you know now.
Jacob, you know a few things about this family that no one else knows, and sometimes you may a great deal more, so cant you cease to wonder so much that I am “such a strange girl”?
O Jacob, my dear friend, down beneath all this pride and will there is a deep yearning to unburden my heart to a friend. But I dare not do it now. And you and I must not meet for a few months at least. A few months ago, if my father had known of this friendship if might have been alright, and I would have been spared so small amount of suffering but you thought it not best, and now he cannot know it. At present I am not willing to suffer what I know I must suffer if you and I meet. This thing might have been done three months ago and you would not do it. Ah Jacob, if you only had believed it. I saw clearer than you how this would be. Perhaps you intended to come as an ordinary visitor? Then I cannot see you as such. The wounded pride of this heart says “no”. And if there is still in my heart a hidden love for you it would (..) find its way to the surface at the sight of its object, and that must not be, not now at least. And Jacob if you thought to come to bid “farewell” to your friend, stay away. I could not endure that, it must not be. If you must say goodbye, say it far away from e, for one look, one wink would break down this willful pride which is all my life. My friend, why did we part three months ago! Ah yes, it is just that you are not willing to let me know. I may know someday, perhaps when it is too late. I want to see you but there is something bitter in the thought of meeting. If I could forget all that I have felt this Summer, all would be well. But Jacob, I cannot. Could I meet you at the door and shake your hand with the same trust and affection of four months ago? I am afraid not. You might meet me in this manner for I have given you my motive for every action. But there is something I must know before I can feel towards you as I used to feel. Jacob, the heart is a strange object to deal with, we must be careful.
One thing I ask of you, my dear Jacob, it is that you will not be grieved because I have asked you not to come to Simcoe in September. If I dared to tell you a (…) of my reason you would say “alright Ida”. I dare not see you Jacob, but the very day that I can revoke what I now say I shall do so with great pleasure. In October, if I know your address I shall probably write you very differently from what I write now but until then we must remain as we are.
Last week I spend three days in Detroit. O such fun! I almost forgot that I was tame Ida Fitch, and people said “what a happy girl you are!” It was a continual whirl of excitement

(the closing of the letter was not found)

 

Simcoe

September 1, 77

My dearest Jacob,
This is the first day of September. September! It is when we were to meet. O Memory confirm the hope thou this day dost arouse, or in pity crush it at once. 2 that appeared in the 1840 “Friendship’s Offering: A Literary Album and Annual Remembrance”, and also later in 1852 in “Leaflets of Memory: an Illuminated Annual”, edited by Reynell Coates. The original reads as “He drew her towards him, as he replied, “Speak, Constance, -one word; confirm the hope you have this moment raised, or in pity crush it at once.” And her head sank on his shoulder, as she murmured “Yours – yours for ever!”]
Your letter came this morning and I have only a few moments to answer it. Jacob, I wish I could tell you to come to Simcoe next week, but if you were to come we might not have more than ten minutes together alone and I want a talk, a long talk over all the strange things. Some curious things have happened here this Summer and there is to be a change in affairs about the first of November. This is why I asked you to delay your visit. You know Jacob I have been & am still in my father’s house, under his protection, while this is true I have a duty towards him. If we should meet now, he would have to know something about the affair, part of the past would have to be revealed, and at present it would make a terrible crash. It might have been alright last Spring, but htat is past, so let it alone. After the first of November I expect to be my own mistress, protector of myself so far as my father is concerned. I expect to be away from his opinion, away from his money, and Jacob after that very day I shall be free. He will be my father still but I shall not consider myself bound by any his of duty. My dear Jacob, this may seem strange to you now, but if we may meet then it will be plain enough. Now, this affair of ours has been so long hidden from him that I think it best not to reveal it now at the very last moment. I know the result would be evil, not because it is Jacob Baker, but because of what has past. The blame would not come down on you nor me, but others would suffer now. I truly hope, my friend, that we may meet this Fall or Winter, if only to explain this misunderstanding.
Your letter strongly affected me, it did not make me mad, neither did I feel inclined to take a good laugh. I put my hands over my face, and some thing like tears came trickling down my cheeks. O Jacob, I never thought of some the motives you gave me. The one, in consideration for myself was noble enough. But I cannot believe that you refused my request in consequence of the manner in which it was given. No, my friend, I never dreamed of the a motive so unworthy the heart of Jacob Baker. Can it be that you allowed so slight a cause to affect so serious a result that you brought your Ida so many heart aches just for a little retaliation? O Jacob, it has taken a long Summer of bitter pains to lah teach me that you wanted to be asked to act, instead of being told. Could you not have found a milder way to teach me this?
In regard to your last motive, Jacob I swear by all that is good & holy that such a thought as you indicate worse entered my mind. My trust in you was perfect until the day you said go. Then because you gave me no reason for acting
[the closing of the letter was not found]

 

Simcoe

October 12, 1877

My dearest Jacob,
Your note came today but until this evening I have not not (sic) a moment to answer. Had to give a painting lesson this afternoon, and have now but a few moments before tea. Yes, I understood that I was to write to you before you write to me but not before you wrote to someone else. That was just what I was waiting for but had I known that you were waiting for my letter, I should certainly have written.
I have not forgotten what you said about your letters this Winter differing from those of last, hope I shall “hit the right nail on the end” and mine differ in the same manner as yours. Your last note is so brief I cannot tell the difference from that. O well, I shall find it out before long.
Jacob, I am going to one of those stupid socials this evening. Wish you would go with me. I have pleasant company, but would gladly exchange if I could.
This is Friday evening, time for letter writing.. guess I shall stay in and write five sheet of foreign note paper to Jacob. Not to night, the social is for the church so of course I must go. Pas is going away the first of November, does not know when he will come back again, but has decided to enter the medical profession. Of course, he does not want this known. I spent last Monday in Hamilton, have some idea of accepting a situation the first of November. Poor Ma will be very lonely if I go, for her sake I want to stay, but for her sake I want also to go. I am sorry your brother is no better. I remember seeing him at Woodstock. Hope his life may be spared.
No doubt you think I am fearfully “scared” of writing to you before you write Pa, but I have some kind of an excuse, for I understand that was to come first. I know I shall not see Pa very soon after the first of November, but I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that I was true to the last, my duty will be done. We may not have been as happy together as parent and child usually are, but I cannot forget the gratitude I owe to him. It is getting dark, must off soon. Please Jacob excuse this short note. I shall now be as faithful to you as I have been to my father.

(in cross writing)
Whatever may come I am yours and shall not be daunted by anything. Good night Jacob I am as every your loving Ida.
One week ago Wednesday I received two very nice pieces of music and I think no one but yourself would be so kind as to send them. Please accept kindest thanks. I shall take delight in playing them although (…) are very hard to learn. (…) Farewell.

 

Simcoe.  Oct. 20th  77.

My Dear Sir,
Yours of the 18th is to hand, and has, I confess, taken me a little by surprise. While I have all confidence, both in you and Ida, I could have wished, that this matter had not reached its present state for yet a few years.
I have, however, had a long and careful conversation with my daughter, and I am con-
vinced that it will be unwise for me to withhold my consent, to any formal engagement
you and she may wish to enter into. 3
Let me say just here, that you have as noble a treasure as ever God gave to the keeping
of any man; and the fact, that I consent to resign it to you, is the fullest evidence, that I regard you as worthy of its possession.
In regard to your future, let me advise you, to defer all thoughts of marriage, until
you have completed your course and are ready to take the field for the Master. Let your engagement be but an additional incentive to a high and noble purpose.
I do not ask for Ida – as she does not ask for herself – wealth or fame, or worldly endowments, but I ask, that you may give her what is of far more value, a high and hefty 4 purpose, and a noble consecrated life.
May the blessing of Heaven attend you, both in your preparation and in your future life work. You have my permission to make any arrangement, looking to the future, that her heart and her judgment may dictate.
Yours very truly,
H.P. Fitch   5

 

Simcoe

Oct. 24, 1877

My own loved Jacob,
I can say “my own” once again, and I am not at all sorry. Your last letter must have been written with all of the old affection it was so good and it was read with old-time affection. It is now long past this child’s best time, but I must write you tonight or I wont sleep half well. For a week now I must paint all day, sew all evening and do my letter writing after I have been sent to bed. I expect to go to Hamilton one week from today. The position I spoke of has been given me. If I do not care for it at the end of the month I can leave but think I shall stay for a time. Now Jacob, what do you think if your friend going off to the “Asylum for the Insane”? That is just where I am going.
I shall have charge of eight female nurses. My duty will be to see that their duty is done towards the patients. I have no labor aside from responsibility which is I suppose the hard enough. I visit the ward twice a day, train a choir of sixteen (not lunatics), conduct the singing at worship and have charge of he amusements and musical entertainments once a month. I also have a few account to keep of (…) etc. I take my meals and associate with the matron, (…) and (…) Doctor. We form the family, have very nice rooms and everything comfortable. I shall have a fine piano all to myself, its mine while I am there and plenty of time to draw, paint, etc. And you see I get not small sum of money. My board, washing etc. free, and $200 the first year with a prospect of $300 after that.
No Jacob I can’t make half that in Simcoe, and I think Eva will come home at Xmas to stay with Ma for a while at least.
But if I thought this would be all of Hamilton life I should not care to go. I want to take music lessons and am hoping that I can arrange for them in Hamilton.
Dr. Stewart dined with us today. He urges me to make their home mine as often as possible, says I must have a sitting in their pew in church and he will introduce me to some kind people who will receive me cordially.
I know I shall be happy. The responsibility will be great for one so young as I, still with the help of God I am willing to undertake it.
Pa leaves for Chicago on Monday, but he leaves his blessing with me. You have before this, no doubt, received his answer to your note. He said “Ida tell me it all” and I told him of the snap in the Spring, and he said “while I have no blame to attach to Mr. Baker for not doing as you wished, still I honor and love you dearly for what you did. I shall always remember it”. This was recompense enough.
Before he left the room he put his arms about me and said “May the Lord bless you Ida” Now I am happy. I have gained what I have long for during one year, my father’s approval and blessing.
Jacob dear, I can’t write more tonight, was up last night until after one, and have worked every moment of today. I will feel fresh and better in the morning and will write then.
Your letter was so nice and this one is all business. But I’ll answer you letter in the morning.
Good night my dearest friend, I believe firmly tonight that “the one you love the first is the one you love the best” and it surely must be true if the first one is the only one.
Good night again, I’ll go now and dream of “dear” me”!
Morning
Mrs. Stansbury from Aylmer is visiting us and in a few moments I have to go with her to the station. I do wish I spend this forenoon in writing to you but I must do lots of shopping today, get a tooth drawn, give a music and painting lesson and then sew. But this scribble will let you know that I still love you fondly and am your own Ida. I read your letter just after I heard of the Hamilton position and it made me feel stronger and more willing to undertake the responsibility. I know it will be hard, and under other circumstances I would shrink from it, but I know its duty and “will go in the strength of the Lord”.
Jacob your letter will be a great comfort to me, and to know that you pray for me with (sic) give me renewed strength. I thank God for giving me back my dear Jacob, and He will cause the sun to still shine on our path even should you be in (…) and I’m in an Asylum.
Evening
Just as I finished that last sentence I was called away and now I have just sat down to write you and in walks a pupil for a lesson. Pshaw! I want so much to write (Music pupil gone) Miss Well has just come in to spend the evening and night with me. She must excuse me for a few moments.
In your letter you say you are sorry, you came to Simcoe. Well, that’s just where you and I differ. Yes, my loved one if you care for me be more glad that you came to me, for as sure as you would have disobeyed my word or never seen me, had I told you not to come so sure would I have written a kind letter to that handsome such gent. And I might now be preparing to go to London instead of Hamilton (Asylum in both places). Do not on this account think I could love any man but you. The gent I speak of “had a fall and before” he sayd and we would have called it even. But I am glad yes glad that tonight I am writing to you my dear old boy. The few years of waiting may look a little dark and cold, but a goal is at the end. I may sigh for home and loved ones but a glance towards the future will dispel all gloomy thoughts. Jacob, I could not, I would not go out into this world alone, did I not have your love and kindness. You are kind to me Jacob, and I know you love me, so the coming labor will but make me more worthy of the love I may yet enjoy. Jacob, I might not be good and noble, I want to be a nice woman let is cost what it may. Now my dearest if you can pardon me for the ugly hasty dispatch, please write as soon as you can and address Asylum for the Insane. I shall be there next Wednesday. If I do not hear from you this week I think this note of my (…) and will write again. But (…) ! Jacob, write and next week I’ll have time to breathe and write to my loved Jacob.
(in cross writing)
Good night my friend. May you have sweet dreams “of her” whose whole heart is in your keeping. Know that I am as ever still your own fond Ida.

 

Hamilton

Nov. 12, 1877

My dearest Jacob,
I am sorry to be so long in answering your letter. So far every moment of my time seems taken. My work begins at six in the morning and is over at nine p.m. What spare moments I have through the day I take for sleeping or getting a breath of fresh air. I need both badly. I have just returned from a delightful walk with Mrs. Fitzgerald, the Matron. She is a lovely lady although a Catholic and could not be kinder to me. She is the only companion I have, so ‘tis well I love her. Her daughter about fourteen and a son younger are very pleasant and sing duetts (sic) nicely, we practice “Here (sic) me Norma” 6 etc very often.
The medical Supt. Dr. Wallace 7is very friendly, and I think a gentleman. The Assist. Phys. Dr. Covernton 8 is a fine young man and presides at the head of our table. He has a guitar and is fond of music but does not sing. Well, Jacob, I suppose you would like to know something about my position. I wish you could call and I would take you through the wards and you would see for yourself. I am responsible for the safety of 120 insane women. They all have their quiet spells and all their outrageous fits. At dinner today one patient “got bad” and three nurses, Dr. Covernton and myself could scarcely prevent her from eating us up.
You would be surprised at the terrible strength of some of them.
I like the position and work well, but do get very tired. I have four flights of stairs to go up and down not less than twenty times a day. There are five wards, and these all have to be visited regularly. At nine o’clock I take the last round and give the patients over to the night watch. The dormitories are long and dark, the only light we have is the watch’s lantern. There is a little romance in the life I assure you. Up the steep narrow winding stairs, and through the long wards, hearing a faint “goodnight” or tremendous curses from each patient.
I declare sometimes I laugh until I am sick! ‘Tis such fun to hear them talk. A few days ago one of the worst one said to me “I declare these blamed crazy fools nearly drive me wild” They bless and curse us at the same moment. But now I’ll tell you something that wasn’t fun. Thursday evening at half past eight one of the patients nurses came to me with this message “One of the patients is gone, can’t find her anyplace”. The panic soon spread and every sane person in the house was in search. I looked in the face of every patient but couldn’t see the missing one, she was neither in nor under a bed. I went as far in the garrett (sic) as I could climb without breaking my neck, but couldn’t find her. Twas a dark, cold, stormy night, and I was in agony. When we had been searching nearly two hours, Dr. Wallace went again to the garret, and brought the woman down. I had been here just one week and had not shed one tear, but then I did cry and what makes it more foolish I did not cry until the woman was found. This, Jacob, will give you some idea of the anxiety connected with the position. A nurse cannot leave a ward without my position permission, and I am supposed to prevent any damage to the patients. I assure you, dear, ‘tis no sport sometimes, and I get tired of the distorted features but ‘tis duty and I strive to do it well. Dear me, I have only ten minutes before the patients’ tea, that is a hard task Jacob. They all eat together, and at times make terrible commotion. Our own tea is half an hour later.
Well, dearest, Jacob, I am back again. Feel much better since I had my tea. Miss Ella Fitzgerald will be in soon to read French, and that will be another interruption. I almost forgot to mention the delightful drive I had on Saturday, the Matron, Dr. Covernton and I were out from one o’clock until four. It was a beautiful day and the first time I had been out side the Asylum since I came, so I enjoyed it immensely. Sunday morning I was at Dr. Stewart’s church, sat in his pew and received a very warm welcome from Mrs. Stewart. They are coming this week to see me. I also met Miss Jasmina Smith (…)’s sister. She is living in Hamilton.
I haven’t felt at all homesick or lonely since I came, but my time is so much occupied it is impossible to get lonesome. But tonight, dear Jacob, I do remember friends and should like to see them. I expect Pa is in Chicago tonight. If there be a smooth path in life, I pray God to lead his feet therein. And the others also. O Jacob could I but know that they are happy, I should ask no more. Eva is home tonight I think, she intends to stay with Ma for a new months. I want so much to see the dear girl. If I remain here I shall probably not go home before September. My vacation is only two weeks in a year.
I have a guitar in my room Jacob, but don’t dare to touch it. I wish you could come in and play for me. I am sitting in a large rocking chair trying to rest and write at the same time. I declare I wish I had the strength of a Samson, one needs it in a place like this. The poet says “Men must work and women must weep”.9 I think women have to work as hard as men. I do more work than weeping, have no time to weep. So you have a letter from Papa? And you are forced to say you respect him very highly. Jacob I like to hear you say so but I should like your sentence much better if that word “forced” were out of it. You surely do not mean that you did not respect him before.
You are determined to go East. I am glad you are not (…) in Quebec. That last word reminds me of one of our patients, a French girl, Philimena Blue. She is the strangest piece I ever saw. I have a hearty laugh at her when ever I go through the ward. She got out one day and stole some bread, then piled some chairs up and got through a trap door way in the garret ceiling and feasted in the garret. She is a sly one, ‘tis almost impossible to prevent her escape.
We have service for the patients at nine on Sunday mornings. I have a good choir of sixteen, we practice twice a week. Next Sunday evening if it is fine I am going with Mrs. Fitzgerald to Vespers. I cannot go with to my own church in the evening for I am alone, so shall probably go to Vespers when I go at all. What if I should become a Sister of Mercy, are you not afraid you will loose (sic) me?
Come into my room Jacob and see how pleasant it is. I have three rocking chairs so can spare you a seat. My furniture, pictures and carpet are all nice. I brought one picture with me, the bunch of flowers. If I stay I want to do some painting this winter but where can I can I find time!
“Tis now ten o’clock and Miss Ella has just left. We read and translate four pages of (…). I thought have a nice long evening for writing, but I must go to bed soon or I shall not hear that six o’clock in the morning. Dear me Jacob, I should like to see you tonight, but I dare not allow myself to think about being alone or I should get homesick. I don’t have much sentiment here. I must be firm and stern and keep feelings to myself, still I love as fondly as when I should give expression to my love. Mrs Fitzgerald and her daughter are very lovable, and make it very pleasant for me, still I am alone.
No Jacob, not alone. The Unseen is always with me, and it is when no other friend is near that I fully realize His presence. He is very dear to me, and I cling wholly to him.
My dear Jacob, I must say goodnight. I want to hear from you very much. Please do not delay writing because I done so for I really could not write before I have to Ma but once since I came. ‘Tis too bad, but I can’t help it.
Goodnight Jacob. May you be very very happy and have one sweet dream of your own loving Ida.

Next

 

Hamilton

Nov. 21/77

My dearest Jacob,
If I don’t hurry along I’m afraid another week will pass without bringing you a letter. Your last was good and long as well as good and kind. I reserved last evening for writing you, but when evening came I was invited to a concert in the city and couldn’t resist the temptation. It was good. I heard the grandest bass voice I ever heard sing a solo “Ave Maria”, it was heavenly. That is one advantage I have here, being able to attend such entertainments. I expect to go to an organ recital next week. Sunday evening I went to Vespers, the singing was lovely.
Jacob, didn’t you intend once on a time to write Eva a letter? Well, if you didn’t do it then you have an opertunity (sic) now of sending congratulations. She has gone home to stay six or eight months. At hte end of that time she expects to return to Port Elgin with a Sir McGillvery to whom she is engaged. I have not seen the gentleman but I was rejoiced when she wrote me the news for I know she was tired facing the world alone. She is young, but not too you to have a home. No public position is so pleasant as to crowd out all desires for home, its influences and unrestrained freedoms. No girl supporting herself could be more pleasantly situated than I am but I assure it isn’t home. It seems like being in school or some sort of business all the time.
Ah! Yes sir, it is very fine for you to talk about me not allowing to work to worry me. You come and try and see if it isn’t “easier said than done”. I don’t allow it to worry me but Jacob I must be thinking of them almost constantly in order to do my work well. I very seldom sit down for more than half an hour without being called to one of the wards to settle some trouble. I have to see that the nurses give medicine to all patients who need it. You are vastly different from me Jacob if you could know that you were responsible for the safty (sic) of so many who are not at all responsible for their own actions, and did not feel the necessity of being watchful. Of course, I do not want to give all my thoughts to the work, but while I stay here that come first. But you are not forgotten Jacob. You are remembered with the rest (not lunatics but loved ones).
I am reading one of Moliėre’s comedies, “Le Médecin malgré lui”.10 It is nice, but I like “L’Avare” 11 very much better. Dr. Covernton is a French student, he is reading now a history of France but it’s too heavy for me. He says the language is beautiful.
The Fates do seem against us somehow. At the end of five years we will probably know nearly as much of each other as we know now if we meet as often as we expect. You expect to come home in September? Well you see I have all of two weeks vacation – and how am I going to hang on till then without a rest? I want if possible to go home for Xmas dinner, and can leave only once again in the year. If I can get through the hot weather without resting I will take my vacation when you come home, if not I must take it at midsummer and we shall have to get a glimpse of each other the best way we can. You have to go away down East, I have to be here so how are we to help ourselves?
I hope you will send Sir White to see me. Should be delighted to see him. Am sorry to hear how that affair has ended. Some day they may both discover that ‘tis better so. “Houseman’s” no, Jacob? Who has been the constant one she or I? But I must not boast for I was nearly gone once myself and Had I not seen you in September would be clear gone by this time. But I can’t see what could tempt Emma. She has a happy home where she can take shelter until Mr. White has finished his college course. I tell you dearest Jacob it make a vast difference. ‘Tis an easy thing to wait in a comfortable happy home with one’s friends all around them, but waiting out in the world alone is a different thing, and only those whose hearts are filled with love can do it.
You will have a great deal to do, Jacob. Two sermon, prayer meetings & Sunday School, will keep you very busy. Do not work too hard. Dear me! How much easier it is to preach than practice! I tell you what you tell me and neither of us pay any attention to it. But really I am no going to kill myself. If laughing makes one fat, I’ll soon be a monster. The patients say such ridiculous things. They all call me ‘chief’ and yesterday I was passing a patient who is blind, she asked “Is it Matron or Chief?” I said “Chief”. A patient who sat near her said “then this hymn was written for you “I the Chief of Sinners Am”! 12 I told her that was my hymn so she is satisfied with calling me “The Chief of Sinners”. She isn’t so far astray after all.
We have dances for the patients every fortnight. What do you think of your girl dancing? Well I know what you think, Jacob, without asking.
Pa was much distressed when he found that one my duties would be playing at the balls. It is the only recreation of any kind we have hear (sic) and all join! I am the only one in the crowd who does not dance and I should not think of it if the monotony could be broken any other way. But if I stay here I think I shall dance more than once in the year. We must have some change here more than any place else. I cannot get out very often ‘tis too far to walk to the city, so from morning till night is the same.
Sometimes for four or five days I am not outside the door, so if my letters are not fresh with news you will excuse.
I am going to have Eva’s gold watch until September, this is the best news I know. What does she want of a watch after she is married? She will have a big watch then, if Sir McG. is like most gentlemen!
O know! Jacob since I came here my letter writing has been a humbug. I am so tired when not at work that I cant write a decent letter to anyone.
‘Tis nearly time for the patients tea, I must go for the present.
After having my tea, practising for some time and taking a short walk I am back again. I wish you would come into my room in a few minutes Jacob and I would treat you. I got lonesome today and sent for some oranges lemons etc and will have to eat them alone. There is not half the pleasure in treating one’s self that there is in treating one’s friends. I suppose I have no intimate friend in the crowd. They are all very kind to me and I am happy, still I feel lonely once in a while. Not homesick you know Jacob, for I would not confess to any such feeling, but I should like to see an old friend occassionally (sic). I should like to see you tonight Jacob, isn’t that kind of queer? Wednesday evening, what are you doing? Perhaps at prayer meeting, perhaps preparing a sermon for Sunday? Perhaping (sic) singing as I have been, perhaps reading? Perhaps thinking of the fond heart you have won as I am thinking. I’ll tune up this guitar tonight and sing “Don’t be sorrowful darling” 13 and “Ever of thee I’m fondly dreaming”.14 But Jacob, I believe I need a lesson this evening. Ha! Ha! When I get this letter written I’ll turn down my gas two or three times and you will know. Dear me, a big sigh will come. “Those other days” seem so far away. I wonder if anyone has “Coal. Stove. Hall” I do not make take time long to make a change in affairs. I wonder how Ma, Eva, Clara and Arthur are getting along! I wonder how Pa is tonight? And what about the one nearer and dearer than all other? Are you perfectly happy my Jacob? Is there in your heart a “restless unsatisfied longing” to be near the heart that beats so warmly for it? Life is sweet, but O ‘tis full of many sad yearnings that will not let the heart rest.
Dear Jacob, I am glad that these few years are not all of life. That “bright forever” must some day dawn, and I’m and sorrow will pass away with time. I am glad that this sinful mortality must be cast off before our true life can begin. “O Life. O Beyond thou art strange thou art sweet!” 15 Then there will be no temptations! No yearning, no tears, no sin! “Jesus, in mercy bring us to that dear “land of rest”. Yes, it may be that in the heavenly land our spirits shall hold communion and no distance can separate us. We may not be together for years, and it may be never on this side of heavens but we may enjoy our eternity of fellowship. Could I but have this assurance, it would be the strongest link in the chain that binds my heart to heaven – the strongest but one, the hope of seeing my blessed Saviour. O Jacob what will it be to fuel that we are in the presence of Jesus? May God prepare our hearts for the great joy.
I am waiting for one of the nurses to return from the city with my goodies. I can’t go to bed until have them. My feast is ended for tonight. My! It was good!
Goodnight Jacob! I’ll send this letter, short as it is in the morning. If I keep it another day ‘twill be so late. Goodbye dearest.
As ever I am your loving Ida.

 

Hamilton

Dec 5, 1877

My dearest Jacob,
I intended to go to the city this afternoon, but it is pouring rain so perhaps I can get a letter or two written. Dinner is just over and I have had a splendid glass of cider and feel not very sad. I can’t write straight today, however it is the effects of the cider but a scuffle with a patient! We have had a terrible time here today, I never saw the patients so wild.
I am sure Jacob you will be glad to know that I can go home for New Year’s dinner. I asked the Dr. this morning and he said “Y-e-s-!” But it seems so long to wait. In the meantime we are going to get up a a musical entertainment, a Christmas tree and dance for the patients, so I shall have to work. Your kind advise to go out more has done me good for after being inside these Asylum walls for two whole weeks I went to church on Sunday, and spent the day with Dr. Stuart’s family. They are very nice and kind. I am sure I will feel at home there. I didn’t know how very tired I was until I could rest for an hour or so, and I didn’t know how badly I needed a breath of fresh air until I got it.
I hope I soon shall get hardened to this kind of life or I shall not be able to stay the year. I find from six to nine very long hours, and one’s nerves must be strung up all the time. Today I have put two patients in the straight jacket, how is that for those “little hands” you used to talk about? Your (sic) would be surprised to see what “childish Ida” can do with these crazy women. I am good for something more than to pet and be petted. I could throw any preacher to the floor now.
While I think of it, I’ll say please address my letters Box 126 instead of “Asylum”
Is it true that Mr. White has a jewellery store about thirty miles from Port Elgin?
No sir, I will neither be twenty eight nor twenty seven my next birthday but twenty nine with the ten off.
My! How old I am getting! They think here I am about twenty five. I should like to be home on my birthday with Eva dear girl, I must write her a long letter then.
Her friend is nice looking (she says) very kind, not rich but comfortable, but not a christian. He is a merchant and is well-established in the business. If she is happy I shall be. May she escape the rock on which have been wrecked the hopes of more than one dear friend. But life’s joys are so uncertain, ‘tis all chance here.
Guess I am about as happy as anyone.
I am sorry I cannot have time to take lessons in music or painting. If I stayed here ten years I could not take. We are nearly two miles from the city. I had settled down this afternoon for a good write but the Matron wishes me to go down to arrange for the entertainment at Xmas, so I must leave my letter till evening. Yes, then it will be visit wards, practice or something else.
I think Eva wont be married before September and what if I can’t go home then? Ginger! If you are west and I can leave then we will I hope meet at the wedding. We four. Won’t it be grand?
Miss Dorr (**) hasn’t written to me in an ages of ages. What is the matter with the woman?
Many thanks Jacob for “Rock of Ages” ‘Tis very sweet and I’ll sing it often for you.
One week of my second month here has passed so I suppose I am “a goner”. Excuse slang please. Come downstairs and help us practice. I have some singers I assure you, but not one tenor.
Good by the present Jacob –
Evening
I came in my room to write to you but have spent so long in rereading again and again your last letter that the evening is far spent.
I feel just a wee bit lonely tonight dear Jacbo, I should like to see you just now. I never get homesick but occasionally when I am very tired a feeling of loneliness comes over me, andI long intensely to see a friend, to hear one loving word to receive one goodnight kiss, all of which I am deprived of here. All the officers here are kind and agreeable, we must and do our work pleasantly then each goes his own way. We enjoy very little fellowship socially, and none whatever religiously. No prayers except in secret, no worship morning and evening, no grace at table, and no anything that is religious. We “assemble ourselves together” often but it is always for a dance, so Jacob if it was hard for me to be a Xian when surrounding by religious devotion what must it be when I am entirely secluded from it? O my dearest, if you find it hard while in he midst of the work of Christ, what of me? I hear the name of my Saviour many time through the day, but never used except profanity. Even now while in my room I hear His name blasphemed by a woman who is not a patient. Jacob dear you don’t know how terrible it is! If I were only a little older, and had seen a little more of the good of life and humanity I would not mind it so much. I cannot persuade myself that this is life and what I have seen before the exception, yet they say I will find it so wherever I go in the world. “The trail of the serpent” 16 is seen very plainly here.
I wish I could go around with you some afternoon to see your sheep, but guess I would be satisfied not to see the sheep if I could see you. Dear “me”! I am lonely, I want so much to see you. September, October, November, December. Nearly three months since I said goodbye to you in that hall in Simcoe. I felt rather blue that morning Jacob. And now I’ll tell you the rest of it. Do you remember the first summer you wrote to me that I was in Simcoe for a week or so? Well your letter at that time was sent to me from Woodstock in care of Miss Wells. When Pa got your letter this fall he was very angry that I had kept it from him so long until I explained matters and thought it was all right. He carressed (sic) me fondly and with many blessings then wrote to you. Well I was happy of course. But the next evening Pa went down to a Mr. [**undecipherable]’s where he was very intimate and where I happened to be at the time that I received your letter two Summers ago. I don’t know it cares but Mrs. [undecripherable but appears to be same name as previous] told Pa that I received a letter from some gentleman in care of Miss Wells two years ago”. My, he was raving! That upset the whole thing. And the worst of it was Pa did not say one word to me so I could defend myself (for it was done innocently) and the matter rests now just where it was then. Since then Pa never has mentioned your name or allowed the matter in any way. When I said goodbye to him five weeks ago today, he promised to write to me as soon as he got to Chicago, and I haven’t heard one word from him in any way, nor do I know his address. But dearest I am happy I did my duty towards my father, and for him sacrificed the fondest feelings of my heart for a time at least. But all is well tonight I am yours, and God will guide our steps in the future. The ways looks long and dreary, but we will find it light as we go along. There have been many crooks in my path since a year ago but I have come out all right the end. Many times it seemed to me that I was being led to a tangled marsh, but I look back now and find that the way was clear. “God makes no mistakes” dear friend this thought is the greatest comfort of my life.
When I came here I gave up crying and have not been guilty of shedding a tear more than two or three times, and once was when I read “Are you happy My Ida?”. You did make the tears start that time Jacob although I didn’t know why that question should cause a tear. Of course sometimes I long to be at home for even the shortest time but generally I think I am as happy as any human being can be. Could I but know that those I love are free from suffering, my joy would be complete. But while I am gay and striving to be happy I know “there are hearts that are breaking”. There are burdens that I can’t wholly lift from loved ones, there are sorrows that I cannot chase away, but God knows I have done my best. Were I only able how gladly I would remove every weight and grief but God knows best. He has been our guide through life, and unto His hands we will committ (sic) our spirits.
It is now after ten o’clock and I must be in my halls at six in the morning so dearest Jacob I must say goodnight. I hope the wind doesn’t whistle around your windows as it whistles around mine. Sigh! ‘Tis dreary enough!
I want your letter tonight, and this one isn’t sent yet. I have so little time to myself Jacob that ‘tis really hard for me to get a chance to write.
Pleasant dreams, Jacob, And may the god of all love lead you in the path of peace.
Ever your loving,
Ida.

 

Hamilton

December 14/77

My dearest Jacob,

“In my most hearty wise I commend me to you.” 17
I read your letter yesterday morning by gas light before I had my breakfast and everything in this day went well. I felt as cheerful as I feel when I receive my month’s wages.
Really Jacob you would have laughed if you could have seen me at the end of last month pick up my money. All of twenty three dollars all my own!
Dear O dear! I spread it out on my bed and laughed. But where is it all now? Vanished like the mist of the morning. And I can’t go home until after N. Y’s day for my money is gone. I have a pretty striped silk dress for our parties and Eva’s gold watch until September! Won’t I be a swell though! You know I have a slight weakness for nice things, but I’ll get tired of them before very long I suppose. But it is nice to be independent and to be able to say “no one’s money but my own bought this”. I shall be overjoyed when the time for me to go home comes around. I have some presents for the folks so they will be glad to see me. I think I shall on the Wednesday after N. Y.
We are preparing for a Xmas tree on Xmas night, and on N.Y. night we are going to have a grand musical and theatrical entertainment. This is the first time the attendants have attempted anything of the kind so I assure you I feel somewhat anxious. They did well at the practice last evening. We rehearse every evening, and try to practice the music sometime every day. This with my regular work keeps me constantly busy. I have been uncommonly smart this morning, so now have a few moments before the dr. Comes to take his daily round.
I wish I could tell you that I practice every day. I haven’t had one real practice for my own benefit, since I came nor do I see much prospect in the future. I play twice a week for the attendants to sing, but that does me no good. I play a few dances every fortnight, music that Clara might play, but there is no practice in that. I sing occasionally for Mrs. Fitzgerald or the Dr. but always something I know so that isn’t much practice! As for the piano music I don’t know where it is going, I shall forget how to lay before long if I survive here. I must do a couple of pictures for Eva’s present, andI am glad I have promised or that might not get done.
This is a lovely day Jacob, how I should like to have a long drive! I am going to the city this afternoon for a while. A week ago today the Dr. drove me down, and we were nearly snowed under. We were literally covered with snow, had no umbrella but it was great sport. That day I went to visit the Bursar’s wife. She is a dear little woman, and is going to move on the Asylum grounds soon. They have a nice house, and I shall have nice times there. Mr. May 18. , the Bursar, says “Of course Miss Fitch you will give up dancing when you leave here?” Well, y-e-s! If my father is still a minister.” He said ‘that’s right’, but I think he didn’t just understand. I suppose Jacob I should promise this much. I am afraid at the end of five years I shall be far too worldly for the position that may be waiting for me. It would be a fearful thing if I should begin to dance some night in practicing.
The (…) parts of our entertainment on N.Y. might well last from seven till ten, then the patients are sent to bed and we have a small dance until one. We keep very moderate hours you see.
The ring you have me Jacob is safe enough on my finger now. A day or two ago I was showing two gentlemen through the wards, and one of our very affectionate patients attempted to kiss him. The poor fellow was terrified and in trying to safe (sic) him I got a good scratch on my ring finger. I bathed it in turpentine immediately but it didn’t remove the poison. It is swelled badly and very sore. A scratch or a bite from one these people will have an effect.
I don’t know Pa’s address Jacob, neither do I know how much good a letter would do. It is not you he is angry with, so as far as you are concerned you didn’t care. I did enough to prove any daughter’s sincerity, and now that my conscience is at rest in regard to that matter I shall not be the first one to take the next step. My poor father may be unhappy, but it isn’t my fault. I did all I could, and when he might have been happy he would not so all I can do is to strive to forget all I know about everything concerning the matter. But O dear, Jacob, he is my father, and I love him. May god shield him from sin & sorrow, and I can bear the rest.

Evening

Since evening I have been singing, playing for dancing, etc. and have come off to my room and left the folks alone in this glory. You wanted this letter this week, well my dear boy if it can reach you in a day you shall have it. I should like to have written last evening but I had to practice.
This afternoon I went to the city with Mr. May. He gave the horse to Mrs. May & me and we swelled around town, did our shoping (sic) then she drove me home. I have the sweetest silve napkin ring you ever saw for Ma. It is fixed on a silver stand and is very pretty. I have a set of corral jewellery for Clara, a large heavy inkstand for Arthur, and three handsome (…) for Eva. My presents and the trip home will I expect nearly all my month’s wages. If I live always as I have lived this month I won’t have money enough for music lessons or anything else. It is no use to talk Jacob, money is money and we all like to have nice things when we can get them. One might as well enjoy life as one goes along. I was going to add “it’s all a chance” but to spare your feelings I’ll not repeat that sentence again however much I may feel it sometimes. I know one thing Jacob, either by chance or otherwise one of the panes in my window is broken and the wind pours in a perfect flood. Dear me I’m nearly frozen, how glad I’ll be when this evening is over, and I am wrapped in the arms of Morpheus! I am tired tonight, and sleepy too. It will soon be nine then I will take my take last round, practice the hymn for Sunday and retire. To sleep I hope better than last night, you never heard such unearthly groans and hells as I heard last night. It was something terrible! It seemed to me every patient in the house was trying to scream the loudest.
Dear me Jacob, I must go now. This is a horribly short letter, but I want to send it in the morning and am too tired to write more tonight. I hope you are happy dearest. May god bless you ever in the prayer of your most lovingly
Ida.

 

Hamilton

December 20.77

My own dear Jacob,

“Every cloud has a silver lining” I am ill tonight that is the cloud, the silver lining is that I can write to you now and might not be able to do so were I well. Some how and some where I took a severe cold which settled on my lungs causing them to become badly inflamed, for two days and two night (sic) it has been with difficulty that I could draw the shortest breath. But the skill of two Drs. is restoring me fast and tonight I am up and dressed and hope to leave my room tomorrow. Now Jacob before you say “bad beginning!” just wait till I tell you what the Matron said today. “No Chief before you has been in this work for two weeks without being in bed for two or three days. According to that I have done well for I have worked seven weeks before being laid low. I don’t know what you think but I think I am wonderfully brave not to feel homesick at this unfortunate time. Last night was a long night I assure you. I sat up part of the time and did not get asleep until seven this morning. The night nurse sat with me, and if ever in my life I longer for my mother it was during those long sleepless hours. If her hand could have smoothed my brow I know I could have slept. But not withstanding all I didn’t have the blues. No one could show more kindness than these people have shown to me these two days. Now dearest don’t you get scared about your Ida. In a few days I shall be better than I was before, and if I can get leave of absence for a few days I can have a nice rest at home.
We have an entertainment for New Year’s night so I cannot go home until Wednesday, I am sorry but better late than never.
The patients have a dance tomorrow evening and whether it be sinful or not sinful I can’t dance then. Yes, I remember the evening I vowed I would never dance with a gentleman, not even with Jacob Baker! But should Jacob Baker come in now and say “Waltz with me, Ida?” I would say “certainly, with pleasure”. Perhaps you cannot understand so sudden a change in my views but you know this a changable (sic) world and we all are changable (sic) people. I don’t deny that I dance a great deal here, and shall do so as long as I stay. When I leave here, unless I am similarly situated I shall give up dancing entirely, but at present ‘tis the only recreation I have. When I came the Dr. told me dancing would be one of my duties and when he asked “is it against your principles?” I said under the circumstances, it is not. I am no more anxious to discuss this subject than you are. In the first place I dance with the patients because it is required, and I dance for my own pleasure because it is the only amusement and exercise in the place. Of course Jacob I would not expect a man in your position to endorse my views, and if ever I share your position, as I hope to do, I shall gladly put mine aside for yours. When you give me better Jacob I’ll put this aside, but you must not think that dancing is the only circumstance in my life that tend to hide my light from the world. No my Jacob ‘tis one of the least causes of my wandering from Christ.
‘Tis late my dearest and I am very tired. I have a tremendous sleeping powder to take and (…) I don’t like it. What if I should never awake? Would my soul be this night with Christ in Paradise? May God prepare my heart for the dread hour! Could you read my thoughts of you now dearest you would find them as 19 fond as if they were my last. Goodnight der Jacob, a thousand times goodnight.

 

Hamilton

Dec. 29. 77

My own dear Jacob,

Since you are so anxious to know how I am getting along, I wanted to write yesterday when I got your letter but hateful circumstances would not permit. I was felling (sic) just a wee tiny bit blue yesterday but your letter was so kind it dispelled all the gloom from my mind and I felt that I again stood in the sunlight of forever love and kindness. It is well, Jacob, that you can have compassion for the children of God. You may find strong ones around you ever willing to help you in your work, but it is the weak and faltering ones whose hand you must take and lead them to Christ. Do not, dearest, measure the strength of everyone’s soul by your own. God does not give His Grace equally to all. Some He tempts and tries, to these lend a helping hand.

Sunday morning

When I had written a page last evening I laid my head back to think for a few moments – to think of the blessedness of leading a wayward soul back to its God. The thought terminated in a prayer that the influence of your life & love may be the means of keeping your Ida nearer the cross of Christ. I was very tired and praying thus I fell asleep. When I awoke it was dark in my room, and time for the patients’ tea. After tea we practiced till half past nine, then I was glad to to get rest as soon as possible. ‘Tis Sunday today and although I was not out last SundayI do not feel able to go today so it isn’t wrong for me to write to you. Well, Jacob I am better but I don’t feel like Ida Fitch. The first month I stood the work well, did not lose one pound & this month I have lost only eight. It isn’t much I know and I should not be sorry for the loss if I felt well. I now try to spare my strength and the three days at home will cure me I hope. I think I shall go on Wednesday morning and return on Saturday. If you write so I receive before Saturday please send to Simcoe. I expect to do nothing but rest while I am at home. I should delight to see Mr. White. I “fixed up” yesterday afternoon in hopes that he would come, but never a step came he. If I could not treat him well for his own sake, Jacob, then I should certainly treat him well for yours. With these two reasons he would find a warm reception. I am glad he is doing well.
Now Jacob, I am going to tell you a secret. In one year more we shall be able to accommodate three hundred more patients. Then there will be another Chief with the same duties that I have. These two will work together and room together. Now if I am well enough to stay after this year I am going to coax Eva to pospone (sic) her wedding and come here for a year. In her last letter she said perhaps she would not – I don’t know whether she meant it or not. But wouldn’t it be delightful? It is too good to think about. I should be more than contented to stay with her with me. Ma wants me to go home when Eva marries, but I am here I can’t do that. One cannot live on love and air. And I don’t know but teaching would be nearly as hard as this, and when one is well established in a work it isn’t best to change.
We have had a serious time here for a few days. Fights, broken heads and cut faces and lamed limbs! The first hall I went in after I was ill had a pleasant sight. The attendant took me to look at a cut face. A woman had fallen in the night and cut her face right from the mouth over her cheek down to the neck. It was cut to the bone and the most fearful wound I ever saw. Of course I had to tie her hands in the muffs and fix her up for the Dr. to sew her face. When he came in, to my relief, he told me not to stay. Suppose it was because I had been in bed two days.
I wish you could call with Mr. White. I should like to see you and I should like you see the Asylum and patients.
You know Jacob, I always (…) I would be in some such place as this, and although the work is stern it makes one very happy to try to make others happy. It does me a world of good to go in a Hall and find faces gloomy and sad brighten up and look cheerful when I leave them, take a promenade or a dance up and down the hall with them, and it cheers me also. You would not believe how fond one can get of these people.
This year will soon be past dear Jacob, but somehow I can’t feel a bit serious. But I know what I shall do Tuesday night. I will not dance while the Old Year is dying, although he has not been as kind to me as last year was, but I’ll ask Mrs. Fitzgerald to play and I’ll come to my room and kneel in prayer as I knelt a year ago. I will still pray for God to be near my dearest friend, that your labour this year may be abundantly blessed, and that your way may be “ways of pleasantness and all your paths peace”. 20 From my heart dearest Jacob I wish you a happy New Year, and may the end of the coming year find your heart more plainly stamped with the image of your God. O Jacob, I ask for you wealth of soul what ever His will may be concerning me.
This nearly dinner time now, I may be able to write the afternoon. Till then goodbye beloved.

-Evening
I am reminded this evening that the old year dies tomorrow night instead of Tuesday. Well Jacob I think I shall not be sleeping, for I am uncommonly anxious to see the New Year dawn. I want to spend the last moments this in prayer and true devotion.
I want to be a better girl but don’t know that I can while I stay here. If Eva comes next year she can help me be good.
Dear Jacob, I wish I could spend this evening in writing to you but my bed looks too easy. My head aches violently and I am nervous and tired. I must go the rounds at nine but tis only seven now so I can have a nice rest. I shall be so glad when I get as strong as I was when I came here! I like the work and would ask no better situation if my health will permit. But I’ll be well when I come from home.
Now Jacob you will please excuse this short letter. I want to write to you, but can’t muster energy enough to do anything this evening.
Good night beloved. May you have one sweet dream of her who is ever your loving
Ida.

  1. Papineauville is a town in the Outaouais region of Québec. The Parish of Sainte-Angelique was formed in 1851 and the Papineau post office was established in 1855.
  2. This may be a reference to the work “Constance” by Camilla Dufour Toulmin [1812-1895
  3. The liberal use of commas throughout this letter may have to do with H.P. Fitch’s life as a minister.  He was likely used to writing sermons meant to be read aloud, and so might have tended to a usage of commas to reflect intended pauses and emphasis.
  4.  It is possible that this word is “lofty”
  5. Heman Parker Fitch married Melissa Wolverton. In the introduction to a collection of Ida Emma Fitch Baker’s poetry, “Selected Poems”, (edited by her son Ray Palmer Baker, and published by Ryerson Press in Toronto, in 1951) we are told that the Fitches had been among the first settlers of Connecticut.  But that is not the only ‘first’ with which they were credited.  Apparently, as Baker writes, Ida’s great-grandfather, was the first Fitch in the province of Ontario.  The synopsis of the accepted story of the family’s immigrations and emigrations can be summed up as follows:  the Fitches made a home for themselves in England after the Norman Conquest, moved to Connecticut where some became Loyalists in the Revoluntionary War, others moved westward, bringing us back to Ida’s great-grandfather, who landed in Ontario.  On Ida’s maternal side, the Wolverton family provides us with tidbits of Ontario history.  Ida’s mother, Melissa Wolverton, was the grand-daughter of Enos Wolverton who founded the village of Wolverton in Oxford County.  It is said that Enos Wolverton purchased for use in his home what was believed to be the first pipe organ in the province of Ontario.
  6. “Hear me, Norma” a duet published in 1851, composed by Vincenzo Bellini, lyrics by C. Jeffrys.
  7. In the December 1887 issue of the Canadian Practitioner, it was announced that Dr. Wallace retired of ill-health from his position at the Asylum.
  8. Theodore Selby Covernton, (b. 1854), “matriculated at the Toronto University in Arts, 1869, and after passing the first year’s examination, commenced the study of medicine as Clinical-Assistant under Dr. Joseph Workman at the Asylum for the Insane, Toronto, where he remained till as short time after graduation, when he was appointed Assistant-Superintendent of the Hamilton Asylum. After twelve years’ asylum experience, Dr. Covernton went out to China as surgeon of a steamship, and on his return to England held the position of Resident Physician to the Cumberland Infirmary, Carlisle.” When he returned to Canada, he was part of a team of physicians sent by the Ontario Government to Montreal to prevent the spread of small pox to Ontario during the epidemic. p 313 “The Medical Profession in Upper Canada, 1783-1850: An Historical Narrative” by William Canniff, 1894.
  9. Most likely from The Three Fishers, by Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), a broad church priest of the Church of England, a university professor, social reformer, historian, novelist and poet; associated with Christian socialism, and working reforms, and was a friend and correspondent of Charles Darwin.
  10. “Le Médecin malgré lui”, by Molière, a farce first performed in 1666, and published as a manuscript in 1667.
  11. “L’Avare”, by Molière, first performed in 1668.
  12. This may be a reference to the hymn “Chief of Sinners” written by William McComb (1793 – 1873) an Irish writer and bookseller.
  13. Don’t be sorrowful darling”. Composed by J.P. Webster, published by Oliver Ditson & Co., 451 Washington St., 1862, Boston.
  14. Ever of thee I’m fondly dreaming”. Music By Foley Hall. Words by Geo. Linley. Published by Miller & Beacham, 1858, Baltimore.
  15. From “A Rhapsody of Life’s Progress” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 – 1861).
  16. Possibly a reference to the novel “The Trail of the Serpent” by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, first published in 1861.
  17. Letters that included this, or very similar, phrase include 16th-century letters by Sir Thomas Cranmer (Archbishop of Canterbury), Anne Howard (Countess of Oxford), and Sir Thomas More.
  18. The name “May” is not clear and could not be confirmed using searches for “bursar” or other similar roles. It may be “Gray”. Until it can be confirmed otherwise, “May” will be used in the transcriptions
  19. The rest of the letter is written in cross writing.
  20. Possibly a reference to Proverbs 3:17 “Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace”