Beginning of Letter 50 in Letter Book 1; the blotches are mildew!
Letter 50 To my brother Gloucester October 1st 1776
I experienced, my dear, some anxiety for the fate of the letters to which you refer, not that I acknowledge a sufficient quantum of vanity, to induce a supposition that they could be of any material consequence but, my silence to your uniform attentions would have justified a suspicion, that I was insensible to your fraternal tenderness, which insensibility, would questionless have constituted a very sufficient proof, that I was indeed capable of ingratitude, and, of course, altogether unworthy your future favours — If the said letters had missed their way, I should, for a season at least, have figured most unworthily, and the idea even of momentary degradation is sufficiently mortifying —
But, however my regrets are diminished by the knowledge that my several packages have come safe to hand, yet I am truly unhappy to learn, that I am probably deprived of many inestimable treasures designed for me by my brother — by what means the letters you mention to have written, have escaped me, I know not, but one thing is certain, I am essentially the sufferer —
Were our letters exchanged by post, perhaps we might not often be called to regret these kind of losses — I would most cheerfully comply with your request, I would frequently employ my pen to you, did any thing occur, which I could believe worthy your attention — Till I can fill my page with a greater variety of incidents, I presume my present method will be most eligible, as it will prevent your being crouded upon by a superfluity of insignificant events. As often as you are so obliging to note the receipt of my communication, I shall not fail to continue them, recording every thing which may figure importantly in our beloved Circle.
We are at present solaced by all the pleasures of expectation — We are bid to hope that you will pass the approaching winter in your native Village, and we are impatiently counting the days, till your return — We rejoice to see the pleasant weather passing off — the fading flowers give us pleasure, and we behold, with satisfaction, the verdant tinct giving place to the dun hue of Autumnal yellow — To my eye the advancing season assumes the most pleasing aspect, for it is the harbinger of that hour, when I shall again fold to my fond bosom, my affectionate, my beloved brother —
If it had been convenient for you to pass the summer in Gloucester, the scene would have been much more varied, than it is rational to suppose, the dreary months of winter can present — yet, during the summer, the retirement of friendship would have been invaded, the hours sacred to affection curtailed, and perhaps there is more true enjoyment to be found in the bosom of social life, than in all the pleasures in the gift of a promiscuous Circle —
The captors by which our merchants have been enriched, have introduced a constant succession of strangers. Among the unhappy sufferers we have distinguished many worthy characters I call men of taste, genuine feelings, and true honour. Some have decidedly blended delicacy, greatness of soul, and uniform liberality of sentiment — and we have beheld the British Sailor, the British Gentleman, the British Hero, even as heretofore exemplified, admirably displayed among us —
They were strangers, they were unhappy, and they were consequently entitled to the attention, and indulgences which they received. Some amiable females were in their train [—] their destination was for Quebeck, where parents, Lovers, and Husbands are impatiently expecting their arrival — But alas! alas! they are … experiencing the melancholy effects of this destructive war.
Viewing you, my brother, as brave and humane, I cannot but suppose that suffering merit, of whatever party, will excite your compassion — That you, my brother, may never experience the evils of captivity is the ardent prayr of your affectionate Sister —
______
Notes: Judith Sargent Stevens to Winthrop Sargent, her brother.
2004 © Bonnie Hurd Smith