[Letter from Ann Upshur Eyre to her sister, Elizabeth Upshur Teackle, January 29, 1813]

January 29^th 1813

My dear girl

Thimbles wife has long since changed her tune¹ and now pours forth ebullitions of sorrow more like the wailings of Niobe, “tears still are left and those I do not spare.” Who could have believed when I parted from you last October, with your firm promise to join me in a few weeks, that the very last of January should find it unfulfilled, and we have been lost in astonishment that you have not written a line to inform us of the cause of your not coming at the time your last letter proposed, which has been received six weeks ago. Mail, after mail, baffles by, and still you do not write, till my impatience giving place to real uneasiness. I have resolved to dispatch Natt, to gain if possible, some information concerning you. While I remain (and it seems am likely so to do) in such profound ignorance of what your real intentions are; my own movements are consequently involved and at a stand. When I parted from you, I mentioned to you my wish to spend the greater part of the winter in [torn page] and as you positively refused to remain [torn page], I had made arrangements in my [torn page] to go up; when you could no longer be per[torn page] onto protract your stay with me. February [torn page] at hand, and you must suppose that [torn page] be, but what I ought to desire. [torn page] to decide finally and fixedly whether you will come down or not. To see you and Littl. again under our roof, is what we have so long and so

anxiously desired. Every other arrangement will be gladly postponed for this, and we hope you will no longer amuse us with vain promises, but decide in some way that may be relied on and until I learn from you what your determination is, I shall continue at a loss what to do. I can no longer be amused with such vague expectations of seeing you from week to week and day to day. Hope forever deferred has at last worn out by patience, and if you can come down I hope it will be as soon as possible. It is a delicate point to manage, but if Betsey Dennis was to defer her visit until spring or summer, I think she would find it more ageeable. Visitants from abroad have occasioned many parties among the young folks here, about Christmas and since, during the period of which you were all hourly expected; indeed, many were postponed on your account, which have since taken place. Several of the girls are about to leave on visits of pleasure, so that I am afraid her visit will prove unfortunately timed. As y[torn page] always been, as every thing like gai[torn page] gone by, with the strangers who occa[torn page] it. You may perhaps find a prop[torn page] of managing this matter, it is on her [torn page] that I am anxious. After so long a promi[torn page] her I should be very much mortified if [torn page] should find us all as dull as present pr[torn page] lone bode. Louisa writes in high spirits

is so charmed with her visit that she does not wish to shorten it, and Sir Edward, my Lord of Workington, and Back Creek, are all entrancing. Thro her letter to Leah Savage, I was relieved from some portion of my anxiety concerning you, as she wrote from your house. I thought alltho she does not mention whether you were well or not, if any thing serious had been the matter, she would have done so. It is a shame for you, that you should oblige me to resort to such means of knowing that you are alive. I have received but two letters from you since last October. You ought not to let 2 mails go by without writing. Formerly, tho’ we were doom’d to be separated, your letters were constantly forthcoming, which were the best solace I could have, deprived of your society, Ann Upshur too complains bitterly of her relations. She has not heard from them since she came home, and does not even know whether her mother is safely out of her confinement. [Torn page] will not practice Archy Gifford’s [torn page]llent philosophy of turning your noses to [torn page] south when Bureas blusters. I can’t see [torn page] objections you have to freighting Eolus [torn page] your thoughts now and then. You have [torn page] half as much wit as the birds of passage. They will remain in frozen regions when they can find a kinder sky. This has been the

coldest and most lonely winter I ever spent, nothing but the hope of seeing you from week to week, and the endearing little Virginia, who is rapidly improving, could have kept my spirits in tolerable equilibrium. Ann has been confined with her other breast. It has at length come to a crisis, and is getting well fast. She does not nurse at all now, our Lucy who lives with her has a child of the same age nearly, and she suckles Virginia, which with feeding and the occasional opportunities she gets of stealing a little milk from all the young masters and misses in the neighborhood, she is kept from starving. She is the most ravenous little thing whenever she chances to lay hold of a good full provision bag you ever saw. She very often reminds me of the poor starved woods pigs when they have the good luck to find their way to a kitchen door. Natt will remain a day to refresh his horse, which will give you an opportunity of writing me a long, long letter. If I could but have had any assu[torn page] that you would have returned in it [torn page] easily our carriage could have gone [torn page] of a man and horse. If you would have [torn page] it would have been there long ago. I am at a loss to imagine what objection Littleton c[torn page] have to coming with you. Mr. E wishes [torn page] see him here very much, and why if he w[torn page]