[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, December 14, 1811]

Princess Anne 14^th Dec^r 1811

Mr Williams, who is on the eve of setting out for Virginia, sends politely for my command, and altho’ it is very near my hour of retiring for the night, yet I feel too well that you will say, to omit giving you a line or two. Mr W. also will take down your duett, which, as you intend it for Miss Taylor, shou’d have gone down before if I had had my senses about me when I left this for V-a last. I hope, however, she will receive the gen^ls musick in time to convince her of the correctness of her brother's taste.

I feel much, now I have begun, like writing you a long letter, but this depends on two things, whether I do write a long one or not viz. My eyes, which are drawing straws at this time, and Mr. W.’s messenger who seems to be in a little hurry. Indeed, I would fair say something to a [torn page]

your poor dear spirits, but truly my own want a spring, although our cousin G.K. is here and often endeavours to raise them. Sometimes he is fun, has the effect, and sometimes he joins in with me in the dolours. But this will never do. We must all endeavor to forget irremediable evils, and look forward to better times. The friends we loved are gone: the joys we relish’d are pass’d away: spring, summer, and autumn have their course and to run also; then let us hope that there are yet other seasons of enjoyment in store, and that time, in revolving, may bring them to us again.

You wrote me a complaining letter which I receiv’d the day after my return. I shou'd indeed have grieved to have deserv’d your gentle and affectionate rebuke. But the case is otherwise; ere this you must have receiv’d some budgets of my letters, which, when you wrote, had not come to your hand. You gave a hint, but what I fondly endeavour’d [torn page] [ap]pear almost a promise, that

you would come up to see us. Do my belov’d, my dear sister, come to me, and if I cannot raise your spirits, I can at least commiserate their depression. I well, well know the goodness, the complying fondness of your dear husband, and he ought long since to have known, and he does know, that in bringing you to see me, he confers a double favour. I see him, and I have you; and neither of us cou’d do so well without him, even when we are together in health and happiness. But he has a peculiar talent to tranquilize and comfort us poor low-spirited, volatile, enigmatical females. Our family is not in a situation to admit of gaity, but I think we cou’d muster up some rational and pleasing society, without the aid of dissipation. Let me hear when you will come. It will be also a good wholesome ride for our two cousins (and) I shall be glad to see in earnest [torn page].

My husband [is]

in Balt, but I hope to have him here in good time to welcome you; and cousin Nelly will be very glad to see you, I am very sure.

I beg you to present my warmest affection to my poor distress’d friend, Mrs. Lyon. If words cou’d give her comfort,¹ if anything I cou’d say or do might sooth her, what wou’d I not do for her! Condolence is important. I love her.

Say kind things for me to all my friends who ask for me, particularly my good brother, John, Mama and the girls with you. Tell Ann Upshur I am truly anxious to see her. When will she come up? She must want to see me I think. Ask Arthur to bring her up when he comes.

My back is beginning to curvet and tingle.

Good night
E.U.T.