[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, September 8, 1811]

Sep. 8^th '11

My dear sister

It wou’d be cruel and ungrateful longer to keep you anxious concerning my situation after the receipt of three letters all in one week, from you, which is an occurrence so uncommon that it argues, in my opinion, extreme solicitude. Why my dear girl, if the truth must come out I have really, bona fide, once more met with my usual misfortune. After the most flattering prospects too. I was so careful, so still and so lazy, that it appears next to improbable at least that evil should come of it. Six weeks have now elaps’d since this event, which I felt more severely than anything of the kind that ever happen’d to me. It confin’d me to my bed 10 days. I might have sat up in the time, though extremely weak, but the doctor advised me to keep quiet. You seem’d uneasy, or curious to know what cou’d make it necessary that I shou’d not see you “in N. for a time”. I thought I wou’d

not mention the cause, which was my hopes and fears on this subject, till an issue one way or other, as it was needless to make you anxious on that subject, which I know interests you. What disorder wou’d you have chosen for me instead of this distressing one? You think you wou’d have chosen any other in the world in preference to it. Perhaps the ague and fever might have met your approbation. If so, I have had the pleasure and advantage both of my own habitual choice and of yours too, for the ague and fever I have had in high style just as I was a little recovering from my 14th lying in. And my beloved child has suffer’d from it still more severely, having had two attacks. The first of which I was so fortunate as to relieve by mercury and bark, The last she is now confined to her bed with, and has been extremely sick for several days, though I thank God her fever abated yesterday and I hope she is in a good way to get well. I was very much alarmed this time as her fever appear’d

to border on a fix’d bilious attack, having very little remittance. In all my life I never knew so much sickness here has occur’d this season. We have lost poor Bruff and several other citizens of the lower class. Cousin Nelly, good soul, has her hands full at present. Her daughter Henrietta is very ill and Mrs. General Gale who brought her daughters up on Friday for a visit, was attack’d yesterday morning and is now sick at Beckford. Her little Amelia also the same night was taken with the croupe, and her death expected yesterday. They are both better today. Thus, you see my love, we are all visited in our turn, although I have had great reason to thank Heaven hitherto, my family having been generally more healthy than most others. This year, servants and all have smarted for it. Doctor King is my physician at present, Doctor Jones being very much indisposed for some time. I like Doctor King both as a friend and physician. He is unquestionably a man of first rate talents in his profession and

his tenderness of me in my late mishap leads me to think, in a sickroom he is a disciple of his old master Doctor Rush, in suavity. However, I ought to mention in justice to the doctor’s skill, in this case, I ought to mention that I did not consult him till the affair was too far advanced for his medical aid to be efficient. He told me if I had been bled at first, all might have been well. If ever I am in that situation again I’ll tell him of it. I am resolv’d and get his advice before hand. You may be satisfied my dear sister, however lightly I may speak on the subject (for it is vain to be melancholy for irremediable evils), I am more than ever convinced that my life or at least my future comfort is at stake. and that every precaution I will take in justice to the kind interest of my dear friends who here, as well as yourself, are all in arms about me.

Eliza, who has been at home now for a fortnight, and myself were invited to dine

at Workington where I remain’d two days. Eliza went down from there. She is a lovely creature.

You may depend on it I shall certainly avail of your invitation, as soon as I am able to ride so far, which I am sorry to say is not now the case. Mr. Ker has been down and found me little disposed or able to be charming, God knows, I then had the ague. He came down to B. Creek expecting to find me there as he said, and being disappointed and disgusted with the place, resolv’d to make out a visit to his friend Jackson where he was a week.

Believe me I was severely shock’d on reading your letter. Poor dear old Uncle! His toils and misery are now over. I had never till I got your letter heard of his death. The manner of it was truly shocking. Confined in a boat, away from his family! My dear and respected relation! Heaven can witness that I love’d him sincerely, and since his ill health the tenderness I felt for him was great indeed. His premature old age offered

my feelings every time I look’d on him. He was an austere man, but I love’d him notwithstanding, and when, in his ill health, that trait was softened, he was nearer and dearer to me. The last time I was at his house, he treated me with a tenderness and confidence that was unusual to him. Told me his plans and freely communicated his domestic concerns. I thought I wou’d have hugged him in my arms. He was generally so reserved in his deportment, that he repress’d affection that clings to and escapes its object. He was unconscious how much his kindred and friends loved him. When you see my good aunt, give her my unaffected and sincere love. I shall write to her soon; when I am able, not to condole her, but simply to evince my respect and true regard.

My good man, wou’d you think it! Is yet from home. He has been absent since the middle of June. His arbitration with [Gratham] concerning that rascal’s roguery in stating a false claim to the amount of more than $20,000 was his business, which is now settled entirely and exclusively in Mr. T’s favour, exactly

too according to my husband’s statement and without a dissenting voice. He is not detain’d in endeavoring to make the best of a brig which he carried up to dispose. I expect him home in a few days. It is not certain exactly when he’ll come. You know him.

I sincerely thank my brother John for the snuff supposing it to have been his gift. It was a rare treat. I am also glad to hear of his and William’s recovery. Give my best love to him. Also to Mama and the young [torn page] [tu dris?]. Retta and Eliza I dare say are glad of a cessation from dissipation for a time as their spirits will thereby be renovated fresh for another champaign. I have done wonders in the writing way this morning. Yesterday I cou’d not have performed so much having been very unwell for two or three days. I have not known an hour’s health since I saw you.

The Gales, to whom I declared your message, were grateful for your kindness. Their little sisters repeated indispositions will prevent them from going to N. this fall.

I have written on all the old letter backs I can find. The Office is shut and I can get no paper. It has been so long since I wrote that I did not know the state of the writing desk in this particular when I began. It is however of no consequence to you, as you will hear intelligibly, at least I hope so, from me. Nothing wou’d give me more pleasure than to see Mr. Taylor, were I in the right trim to make a more successful attack on his heart; but as I fail’d when I was better prepared, it would be folly now to undertake such [torn page] an exploit. My ardor for conquest making has been considerably damp’d of late, altho’ I yet find sufficient food for my ruling passion to keep it alive were not its appetite rather satiated. At W. Gilmor’s request, I have been writing (sometime ago) a set of remarks on the Lady of the Lake, which my husband informs me gained me some credit amongst the literati of Balt. I was taken sick before I had finish’d, but if I get well I think I shall go on with the work, partly from vanity, partly to exercise my
[page(s) missing]