[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, March 28, 1813]

28^th Mc^h 1813

Your note from Laurel, my most punctual sister, was every way acceptable. I suppose the great exertion you made to write it entirely exhausted your energies; for since, I have heard nothing from you, noting of the long, long journal I was to have had from each mail’s entry, of all your movements. To be sure, I am unreasonable to complain, as Laurel, from its local situation, the manners of the people, &c. affords one of the most interesting subjects, for a journalist in the world; and as no doubt you selected all the matter that cou’d interest me in your note from that city, nothing remains to be said of or from any other in the universe. Petersburgh and Tobalski not accepted. The very name it bears is sufficient to give it a passport to every classical or patriotic ear, as the refined and learned Petrarch has immortalized it, and every brave hero in these jarring times shou’d have it ever in his head, that he may wear it on his head. And why shou’d one of our redoubted generals conceive the weight of such an appendage more than his brows can bear. Cybele, you know, is represented crown’d with towers, which shews that all perspiring gentlemen of the red, who, like her, guard the interests, and prosperity of the world at large, and shou’d be towering in their splendid arms. [torn Page] for instance, I think nothing

cou’d be more appropriate than to behold the brick and mortar foundation of old Granny Dearborn’s skull surmounted by Atticism or just such decayed laurels as the famous buildings in the city of that name cou’d furnish. And I shou’d truly rejoice to see him, and all others of his cloth, fairly buried beneath its ruins. But I dare say there will be no danger of seeing any of them buried beneath the load of their laurels. They will be as able to bear them all off, just with as much facility as they have carried Canada; or the testy members of congress did the Capitol from Washington. Lee! How barren of subject matter I am, since I have been obliged to write a page and a half on this simple and perishable text. Laurels! Now it is a shame for you who are in Philadelphia, and can find so much to detail without the trouble of invention, not to write. For as it is much easier to reply to remarks than to make them in the first setting out, I shou’d, were you to give me a beginning, go on brave enough. Parties, plays, gowns, capes, bonnets, &c, &c, &c, afford an everlasting theme of discussion for your town ladies; and there is no knowing what a point these enlivening subjects give to the wit of the writer, and what an itch they give to those who read, to be talking too. For instance, you tell me of a new bonnet you

have bought. Describe its form; who wears the fashion; the effect it has on the complexion, &c. I, in reply, without the least study, tell you how much I want a bonnet of an invention all my own to shelter my pericranium; request you to send me down a facsimile of yours; &c, &c, &c, without end. But, from the want of this small attention in you, see what a pass I have been put to!

Have you seen any of my old acquaintances? Sam Evans? Hig? I have a mighty itching to there dain some of my poeticks, as I really never shall feel satisfied how much gold there is for the dross, ‘till I can get the opinion of some judge who is both an adequate, and impartial one. To be sure, I have had your opinion, but you are no more a judge of my performances, than a fond, blind mother is of the beauty of her deform’d runty wizen faced infants. I do believe had I written Maxwell’s poems, which you lash so greatly, you wou’d have pronounced them Atticused within an inch of Parnassus! Sam, you know, is a profess’d critic and poet, and his having been an old friend of mine will just neutralize the wormwood of criticism, and make him an impartial judge.

How does poor Mrs. Fullerton? Give my love to her, Sally Whiteford, and her sons. Your being on the spot almost recalls old times sure enough

and brings to my heart the long diverted flood of former feelings, there is Dolly Heariss too. Now Mrs. Smith, find her out. I shou’d not stay for ceremony. She may not hear of your being in town, & she was a good soul. Also Mrs. Biddle, goodness! I almost wish I was with you. You’ll never do half of what you ought to do without me. Give my love to all of them and let them know I am 30 years old, have a daughter 12 do, and she is to be a beauty, a wit, and what is generally a wit’s portion – poor as a church mouse! Yes, I am 30 years old! And don’t forget to mention, too, that I am also 2 years younger than you, which, you understand, is a desirable point for you to fix, and that my peas are to be stuck next Monday, and that my cabbage, and lettuce are to be set out between the rows. Mind that, and that the neighbor’s hogs did my potatoes confound last year, as well as parsnips, but had enough to last me the winter, thank god, for all that. All this, and much more too, you are not to forget, which is the most interesting and important notice I have to send them of myself.

Kitty wrote me, previously to your arrival, that there was great rejoicing on account of your and Mr. E’s going up to see them, and that she and Eliza on the strength of this

intelligence, went out “a bonnet hunting” to be in fix for you, poor, good natured child! This Hat is really and Eliza not much worse.

I have to inform you that my bread cart, alias barouche, has new slings; and so Madam, if you prefer riding in “a Barouche, Mrs. Teackle,” to my new coach, for the benefit of Mrs. Rose, who will be, no doubt, too grand after her travels, to quarrel with Jack, who I shall ride behind, the bread cart is trust worthy, so that if it breaks down again, the coach maker, who mended it, is either a knave, or the baggage within will have too much gravity. As to the modesty of Mrs. Rose, and the dignity of her station in the chariot, you need not be uneasy which ever way it turns out; for as I hinted before, my husband has, bona fide, bought a coach and horses, and Joe a hew hat. As he says, thru the assistance of his daddy. Now these old daddies are a very good commodities, and whenever I mount my new coach (I must give my equipage the most sonorous name), I shall cry “amen” to the text.

I have made myself a new beautiful lace bonnet, and hand kerchief. Indeed, I have improved on the plan of yours so much that I wish mine had been done first. The bonnet only wants the flowers you gave me to “make it” quite neat and complete ride season.

and this it shall not want long, if I have a key that will fit your drawer lock.

Do write and let me know where you have visited. Who has been civil to you and c, for the honour and glory of Philadelphia and the places you have seen. This pleasure I really envy you.

I have been thinking of the hyacinth roots I requested you to bring me and the seeds. Don’t forget them. I am mightily interested in my garden. My peas are beautiful! And the violets are sweet according. On the whole, I don’t envy you your pleasures, but that you may enjoy them is my prayer, and that you may return home in good spirits, and with renew’d zeal to your domestic avocations. I am resolved to go with you, and together, we shall produce great effect to that end. Now child, to preach is no way my plan. Therefore, I forbear to dilate on the text, but it’s a good text, my love, after all.

I have been to see Mrs. General Gale, and found them all depress’d as you will suppose. Poor things! They want sober, cheerful society (this is not paradox). I had the pleasure to see their spirits somewhat restored before I left them, for I was there two nights and days. I took the usual calls on my way home, that is dined at Major

Carrolls, and Workington. By the bye, our good friend George was really sick when I was there with a fever, from cold, better now. Tell cousin John that Mrs. Carroll, and old Mrs. Jackson are two of his most enamor’d sapphos. Poor old ladies! How it pleases them all to be a little attended to and no doubt, cousin John found the means to make a due impression, as he always does, on the tender hearted pair.

If you see Jack Seargeant, give my compliments to him, and tell him he as never deemed to take any great fancy to me, and as I hold him indebted to me for the amount of gallantry due Eliza Upshur, I am willing to transfer my claim to Elizabeth A.U. Teackle and her heirs, provided he will give her a legal right to the same. For, as I am informed, he has, in addition to his excellent qualities, acquired one of some moment by his rare talents, viz. a large fortune. I am very willing he shou’d bestow it all on my daughter, and to that end, request the trifling favour of him to wait for her. She will be old enough to marry him in 3 or 4 years, and farther, as she is to be a wit and a beauty and to inherit a wits estate, I am anxious to bestow all these good gifts on one I have always highly esteemed, although “he never deemed to take any great fancy to me.” If this bait should not

take, sound further, and try what you can do for your beautiful, witty niece, who will be in want of a husband, I take it, some time or other, as her mother was before her.

There has been a great fire in Easton¹ I hear. Mr. Ker lost 3 houses. I have not heard further particulars or whether Retta and her Mother were sufferers, which I hope was averted. I have not seen Mr. Wilson since his return from N- nor have I had any intelligence from that quarter. There is nothing new here, except my bonnet, and a pair of shoes I bought the other day. By the bye, I wish you’d add a pair of white kid shoes for me, to my memo. I have, thank god, money enough by me to pay for all, and as you will want all you can get in these hard times, I intend to make it a point of conscience to pay you to the last dime. Let my shoes be a little longer than you require them, and the same width will do. A narrow, long shoe suits my foot, and as these are for high days and holidays, let them be elegant, a blue pair and a white pair. If you will buy a yd and a 1/2 of white patent lace, if you want it that is, I will take half of it, and by splitting it down the length way it will be better for footing, which is what I want with it. It will be very useful and save many a half dollar. Soon after you went

[ torn page] [torn page]ful cord I ever saw. It looks like white wax beads. I bought some for my bonnet and hand^f. I wish you had some instead of yours, which was very pretty to be sure. Oh! Do get Eliza to buy me another sheet of gilt paper, and two or three more of the same kind of pink, and one of green if it is to be had. My box that is to be ornamented with the tiffany painting is so much larger that I had calculated that I have not enough of any of these. I have a note which if it can get changed, which is a difficult thing here it appears, I will enclose you all the money I owe you, and for the purchase of other articles.

With love to my dear brother, [torn page] and all enquiring friends, I am your sister in the fullest of the most affectionate regard

E.U. Teackle

If you don’t write to me by the next mail, I’ll be drot (as Doctor Teackle says), if I don’t black.

Cousin Nelly begs of you if hyacinth roots are there to buy her some.

It is a mournful fact or as Littleton Kendall would say a “d-n’d fact” that I can’t get my note changed, but here it is ready for you to change.

51

Mrs. Anne Eyre
To the care of C.N. Banker
Philadelphia