[Letter from Elizabeth Upshur Teackle to her sister, Ann Upshur Eyre, May 5, 1810]

May 5^th, 1810 PA.

My dear girl

Mr. Taylor has call’d to enquire for my commands to N-. It has very naturally occur’d to me what a scold I shall be held to on a default of my duty in this particular department.

I am so brim full of every sort of affection and communication, that there is no room for the necessary action of my mind to give vent to them. I am at a full pause, just such an awful one as etna exhibits previous to a dreadful rupture. Alas! When it bursts, you will be inundated with burning expressions of the warmest love, for I do love you, God knows how well. I do wish for you, heaven knows how sincerely. Oh! my sister, what convulsive throes do pent up feelings cause the soul. Mine have been accumulating

nine long months. Nine long months have elapsed since we parted and my heart knows no confidant but you. My head shall never run against another participater in all my wishes, another so kind to excuse my errors, or feel for their consequences. None but a woman can understand the infinity of a woman’s weaknesses, or the sensitiveness of a woman’s mind; none but a sister can correct or sympathize them. My dear girl, I am eternally at war with all my host of enemies. My caprices, my follies, my vanity. And I have gained so little ground, that I despair of a conquest over myself. When we set about the subverting the Tyranny of such despotism as this, the Fabian system is the very worst in the world. It will never do to march on to the attack and pause when you see the legions of your foe advancing, for while you deliberate, you are lost. You

are my faithful ally. Succour your beleaguered sister with your strong sense, with your faithful attachment to my interests. You can not fail to relieve me, to bring me off with flying colours. My dear Mr. Teackle is daily expected by his almost deserted family. He has sold his vessel I am told, and I hope advantageously, with out the necessity of making so hazardous a voyage as his contemplated one to the W. Indies. I hope all will yet be well. I begin again, with my wonted sanguine enthusiasm, to look forward to future peace and tranquility, to competency, and independence, no matter how little, provided it is independence, with a prospect of something like a regular plan of domestic life. I am more and more enamored of my little circle of domestic enjoyments, of my little rural avocations, as perhaps, they have been proportionately, jeopardized: as my mind enlarges

enlarges, I see the futility, the vanity, the deplorable folly, of vesting your private happiness on foreign supporters. In the midst of all my erratic flights, I have never lost sight of this good axiom, “home is home.” Mine I have endeavored to render comfortable and desirable to myself, and a chosen few. I am attached to it, and wou’d not change it for all the splendour of Town!!!! You wou’d be amused to see me running almost wild, in my poor ill managed domain, absolutely mad in my garden and I say to cousin Nelly, who wou’d give up all this beautiful green grass for the dusty tracts of a city, who wou’d give up the chirping of these birds, for the noise of drays, wagons and coaches, who wou’d give up you, cousin Nelly, and my chosen, my known few friends, for the innumerable herd of the gay world, whom you visit without knowing,

whom you hear without understanding, or listen to without the possibility of believing? The hyacinths and jonquils you gave me last fall have bloom’d very prettily, and in return I have another nursery of geraniums for you, which may serve either to amaze or make you think of me. I trust, however, the affection you bear me will not resemble their short liv’d bloom. When once I am lodged in your bosom do not suffer the northwest door to be open’d on my image. Let nature keep alive the holy flame of consanguine love, and Nat’s hot house may perish, for their bloom can be restor’d, but the heart’s bloom once over can never be restored.

With the most sincere love to my brother and good venerable Mama &c. I am so far what I ought to be as to love you most tenderly.

E.U.T.

have my affectionate love Dolly Harwood and L. Parker.

These send their love from under their own fists -

Magic circle
Mary Ann King
Milcah Gale
Maria Gale
Geo. Handy
Mary H. Winders

He means to love you when he knows you.

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Mrs. John Eyre
Mr. Taylor's attention
Eyre Hall