"Cottage Home" Iowa
September 20, 1863
Dear Brother & Sister,
Yours of August 1st was duly received but the babies were sick by
spells, sometimes one and sometimes the other, then both. I thought
I would wait a little to see how the case would turn. As they had
no teeth I supposed they were undergoing the process of teething.
Sometimes they would have very bad diarrhea accompanied by a good
deal of fever. Sometimes with vomiting etc. Louise being delicately
formed and apparently very frail was not able to endure. Aug 21st
she left us, a weeping circle, to join the throng of happy ones in
the Spirit Land.
She had been better for a few days while Louis was worse. I had succeeded
in removing her diarrhea and hoped she would be better. Through Wednesday
night she cried out occasionally as though in extreme pain. Thursday
seemed weak and not inclined to amuse herself at all. She took not
much notice of playthings.
In the afternoon she commenced coughing attended with very laborious
breathing. Through the afternoon and evening I applied mustard occasionally
thinking perhaps inflammation of the lungs has set in. The symptoms
did not abate. Rather they increased. Whenever she attempted to cough
she would scream as though suffering extreme pain. At midnight James
got up and got me some smartweed while I kindled the fire and made
preparations to administer fomentations. All the while the conviction
was silently stealing over me that she would not be with us long.
As James was very weary threshing and expected to go at it again
in the morning, I told him he had better lie down while I attended
to the baby. As I laid the hot flannel on the first time I breathed
a prayer that it might relieve her at least. Her cough immediately
subsided and she gave but little indication of pain. I attempted to
pray for her restoration but I could not. I could find no words to
express any such desire. So I bowed before the evil that I saw was
smiting me and prayed for resignation.
Here I had my trial alone with my God and my dying child. The fiery
ordeal was passed. Though weeping, my soul was calm and peaceful.
She gradually failed. Life was ebbing out. At three I observed her
sight was gone. After a while I called James between 5 and 6. I called
the children to see their sister die, but she lingered till nearly
noon.
As I watched her, I felt the full force of the words "Suffering
almost over", and I could not help but feel glad for her though
it was going to make such a breach in our family circle for she was
really a little sunbeam that for a brief space has shone upon us.
Her patient, calm look and ways often reminded me of Mother. She needs
no more of our care. The Eye that never sleeps watches over her. The
hand that never tires supplies all her wants. And as I know she cannot
return to me I often ask myself the question shall I go to her? Oh
that I may not miss of seeing her in Heaven.
Louis has become better, much better indeed, but this afternoon symptom
rather unfavorable again. No teeth yet. The rest of the family are
well, and are blessed with good substantial appetites. I can hardly
get enough bread baked or potatoes enough cleaned.
9 O'clock Monday evening--James has just taken the baby to bed. All
are still. I took off my shoes thinking I too would retire. I thought
of my letter, stepped to the secretary and now I am sitting by the
table in the dining room close by the bedroom door. I thought if I
were at the old house at home I should not retire quite so early judging
by the sittings we had when I was there.
A son-in-law of Mr. Witmer (Philip Newhouse by name) was here last
week. I think he said he left Wheatfield the 7th, got to Cedar Rapids
the tenth, and is now living on this side of the river. Mr. Witmer
intends to move on in the spring. Mr. N. had not seen any one of the
friends proper. He was down in the north woods a few days before he
started but did not go to Robinson's. I want Mr. Witmer to see some
of you before he comes, either at his home or yours or both. Then
it will seem as though I had seen you myself.
James has been rigging his molasses mill today. Intends to start
it tomorrow. I am afraid molasses will be a poor show this season.
It has not been very favorable for cane. We have had too many frosts
to make it very good…
…There has been no drafting about here, it is thought by some
there will not be. You ask how I feel about it. I felt as though I
could not be left. It would be very unjust to oblige my husband to
go. But I have rested quite easy so far this time for, he being a
married man between 35 & 45 it is quite likely he will not be
called out this time, unless there should be order for another draft.
If it comes to the worst that he must go I must do the best
I can. He would have been in the field at the first call, had he not
thought his services were required here.
I see you keep up the visiting yet, visit a little for me once in
a while. I have about 1/2 of my dried fruit yet in very good condition.
I seldom get any of it but I think of the time when we were all gathered
around the well-filled baskets in the old kitchen, and I "cut
off ten". Our number gradually diminished, till but 4 of us were
left. And now but one out of that large family sits under the shade
of the old balsam tree.
Sometimes I think it cannot be but that you must be lonely indeed
as you take a retrosptive view of the past. I often feel lonely when
I think of our diminished number here, especially when I look into
the trundle bed. Louise slept with Ettie, after it came warm weather,
close by the side of our bed. I now count but three girls in the trundle
bed. There is a vacant place. Johnnie Hiker and Eric sleep in the
other bedroom.
Write soon,
H.J. Kelsey
 
* This letter
has been edited slightly to make it more readable for 21st century
readers. The challenges of transcribing a 19th century handwritten
letter include changes in spelling, punctuation and usage.
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