[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, October 3, 1811]

3^rd October 1811

My dear girl,

Mrs. Steele has just arrived in Town and has politely sent me a notice of her early departure and requested my command, altho’ I have literally nothing to say to you, save what love has utter’d a thousand times before; yet I know you so well that I am afraid to neglect so good a conveyance for a few words.

I was mortified that the lateness of the hour of her sending me the message, put it out of my power to see her this evening. I was afraid to venture the night air, having but yesterday escaped a return of paroxysm of the ague, which was the 4th distinct attack I have had of it this fall. I have been sorely belabour’d by this trying disease. I wou’d have waited on Mrs. S in the morning, but she sets out before sunrise, she informs me. However, she promised to call here on her [ ]

I apologize, and readily, that the arrival of her mother will put my dear little Ann’s spirits into the most agreeable flurry in the world. You may tell the sweet baggage that if she entertains her Mother half as prettily as she did me when I visited her, all parties will be delighted. Ah! Why can’t I be with you all? Miserable health is the reply. And there you have Nancy Donnell, the woman I do sincerely admire and love, and Molly, too. The woman I do sincerely envy, when I am in the mood to look young and charming. Eliza and myself have just been saying what a delicious carousement all these strangers will create in your ever merry circle. And if Mr Cousin Bob shou’d pick the time, I know one who w’d bustle with the best spirits, fare speaker Nancy with the sweetest expansion of mouth that ever smile-impelling good humor invented or gave rise to. Ah, how I feel interested for poor Nancy and the no-bone ducks and turkies, as you’ll give Mrs. Steele a dinner of course. You’ll be so good

as to send me some scraps, for that’s how I eat nowadays, since I can’t eat anything at home. Poor cousin Nelly has to send me a bit of bacon and chicken now and then (just like my own), simply because I have taken an oath to swallow nothing (if I can’t do it) that’s cooked under my nose. You have no idea how whimsical I am in this point. Not the least appetite. I wish I was with you, but I sho’d only be an encumbrance to those who love going out into company. I can’t do it. Eliza and Hetty have little other amusement than humoring my whims and waiting on me. Wou’d you believe it? I have not been in my kitchen more than once for two months?

Mr. Teackle, I wrote you last mail, has gone again to B., but I hope not to stay 3 months. Eliz^th is quite well again.

Eliza and Hetty beg to have their love accepted by yourself, Mr. and Mrs. Eyre. I have no thought [of writing]