The Letters
{On outside of letter is a tiny label that reads: "Tho’
lost to
sight, to memory, dear.")
Letter addressed to: Miss Elvira Harmon,
Pittsfield, Ohio
Oberlin
January 28th, 1848
Dearest Elvira,
Having found one idle hour, I have concluded to
occupy it, by addressing unto
you for the first time a silent communication.
You are aware that if I address you in any manner,
I must do it with my pen;
hence I have set myself at work. But if any person should have told me
six
months ago that such would now be the case, I should not have believed
him.
Indeed there was nothing then to make me believe it; but on the
contrary,
everything appeared bright and peaceable; nay more than this; even
promising.
Why should I believe it, when I never happened at your
father’s house in those
days without being cordially welcomed by all, and more especially by
himself. I
was very seldom there five minutes without receiving an invitation to "walk
into the other room." And whenever I met Horace in the
street, he took
great pains to invite me to "call over." And indeed
the first
time I remember, of seeing him, was at a discussion in the school-house
there,
where he urged me to leave my company, and go home with him, and STAY
ALL NIGHT.
But Oh! Alas! Would he be heard to do so now? Would your father urge me
to go
into the other room now? Or would he be heard telling the boys to build
a fire
there, as he did the evening I was first introduced to yourself? No,
never. The
sides are turned now. But why? Perhaps you know, but I do not.
Whatever may be the cause, I will not stop here to
inquire; for as long as
you remain unchanged in your determination, I cannot say that I care.
Though
truly it is not very agreeable to be placed in such circumstances; but
notwithstanding, if others are determined to be enimies [sic], I will
not
object. But still after all that has been said and done, I am not an
enimy [sic]
to any, but shall ever remain a sincere friend to all.
Since I penned the foregoing, I have been down in
town, and I saw Horace
there. I was greatly surprised to see what a change had come over him
since I
saw him last. He addressed me warmly, we shook hands cordially and his
own
tenderness reminded me of days of yore. It looked to me like a return
of
pleasantry. His countenance was like a summer sunshiny day, and when
contrasting
him this evening, with the time I saw him before, I was forced to
believe there
was a change somewhere; for when I saw him before, he reminded me of
what the
Dutchman said of Elmira, he "had no countenance at all."
I have found by this time, that it is the intention
of your father to
separate us entirely forever. But his intention thus far has met with
dreadfull
[sic] success. Nay, it only served to make it worse; for the proposal
which I
made to yourself was very seldom perverted to my mind, until I heard of
your
father’s feelings. Then I often asked myself, if it could be
possible that
your brother thought that his opposition would cause me to abandon you.
It
appears to me that a man of his age should have known better. But if he
does not
perhaps he is not too old yet to learn. I wonder what he thinks I care
for
opposition as long as you remain unchanged by it? I thought by this
time people
had learned that I was so used to opposition, that I did not feel
myself at home
without it. Hence they might know that the opposition of one or two was
not
enough to make me forsake you. What! Forsake when in the midst of two
who were
my enimies [sic], you sacrificed your own pursuant happiness by
granting to me
your warmest affections? Or
Could I forsake you, who like an angel above,
Whispered into my ear the sweet accents of love.
Oh-- could I forsake you my affections to wean,
No never, from one I so highly esteem.
Oh could I forsake you, whose hand I’ve oft pressed,
Whose heart winning smiles kindled love in my breast.
Oh could I forsake you, for others to love,
Oh never! No never!! Whilst God reigns above.
Oh could I forsake you, who was unto me,
The dearest of all of earth’s treasures that be.
Oh could I forsake you, alone for to dwell
Such thoughts from thy bosom, forever dispell.[sic]
No I could not forsake you, while you are my friend
Hence I offered my heart with thine for to blend.
You’ve got it! Now keep it!! Oh keep it for me--
And though all should oppose, yet I’ll never forsake thee.
Excuse my rhyme. Horace wished me to go to the 22nd
ball at
Whitneys, when I
saw him. I had concluded that New Years, had ended my balls for awhile,
but I
believe I shall go over there if they have one. Silas is coming over
tomorrow to
see about it, and I believe I shall risque this in his hands, for I
think that
he will convey safely to you. If you can place confidence enough in
him, I
should be glad to have the pleasure of receiving a letter from you at
your
earliest convenience, through the same medium. I do not think that
Silas would
place them into the hands of any one else, but yet you know best, as
you are
better acquainted with him. Write soon.
I remain your affectionate admirer, John W. Bryant
Letter addressed to: Miss Elvira,
Pittsfield, Ohio
Orange, Ashland, Ohio
March 7, 1848
To my Dearest,
I had concluded when I wrote to you last, that that
should be the last letter
that you would ever receive from me; not because I do not wish to have
a
correspondence with you, but because there is nothing I dread so much
as writing
letters. But it depends something upon the nature of them which I have
to write.
Yes, I can assure you that if it was nothing but a common business
letter that I
am about to write, I would not be found writing it. But the impulse of
my
feelings, taken advantage of the moment, I find myself seated in my
chamber,
surrounded by the silent walls, with nothing to molest me, save the
joyous
requiem of the rest of the company below. You may think strange of my
addressing
you so soon, but supposing that this will be the last opportunity that
I will
have to send to you for a long while, I had concluded to occupy it. By
the time
that another chance should present itself, I would not know where to
find you,
and consequently could not send mail to you. I heard yesterday of the
death of
your father, while I was in Fitchville, and I have heard of it more
than fifty
times today and I suppose that it will not be long before you will
leave the old
mansion. I hope you will write to me as soon as you get this and let me
know
where you intend to go. You may direct on the back of your letter,
Peyton on the
Mississippi River, Mississippi, and then I will be sure and get it. You
said
when I saw you last, and Oh! What a meeting that was. I felt like
death, and I
know that you felt worse. Well, you said then that I must come back,
and fulfill
that contract with yourself. If you will write to me and let me know
when you
would rather I would come and do it, I will be sure and comply with
your wishes.
I never was so lonesome in all my live as I have
been the last week. It
reminds me of the song of a poet:
"I’m lonesome, since I crossed the hills
And o’er the moor doth tire me,
With heavy thoughts my mind is filled
Since I have left Elvira."
But I hope the time will soon roll round when the
pleasure of seeing her whom
I love most dearly, will drive away those thoughts of loneliness. I
know that
there are some who will tell you that I have forgotten you nay together
with
numerous other tales, and I hope that you will give such all the weight
they
deserve. I suppose that some of those who are so fast in meddling with
others
business will make themselves quite busy now, since I am not there to
defend
myself.
Well one consolation presents itself, and that is I
shall be no more trouble
to them; and I hope they will not be to me. But I must draw to a close
for Mr.
Coon is now ready to start. But let these few lines be a token that I
have not
forgotten you.
O think not less I love you
That our paths are parted now
For the stars that burn above you
Are not truer than my own.
Earth with all her golden treasure
Ne’er can win my heart from thee
Though she offers without measure
Yet united may we be.
But I have no time now to write poetry, nor
anything else I want to, so I
will close. But be sure and write to me. Direct it to Peyton, on the
Mississippi
River, Mississippi.
I remain your affectionate lover, John W.
Bryant
Vicksburg, Miss.
April 13th, 1848
Dearest Elvira,
I have set aside my usual evening’s walk
this evening; and have resolved to
occupy it in using my old favorite pen to address unto you a few lines,
that you
may know that I am enjoying good health, and have not forgotten you.
This is the
first time that I have had an opportunity to use my favorite pen since
the first
time I wrote to you; hence it appears somewhat awkward and yet natural,
to wield
it, especially when wielding it for the same purpose, that I did when I
used it
last in Ohio. When first I addressed you in this manner, I did so, not
because I
had rather, address you so, than personnaly [sic], but because the
latter
privelige [sic] was denied me by the interference of others. And now
that
difficulty being removed, another sill more formidable, though not so
disagreeable, presents itself, compelling me to address you with my
pen, again,
if in any manner at all.
That difficulty is the distance which separates us.
I am now about fifteen
hundred miles from you, and four hundred further than I told you I was
going.
I did not stop with the rest of the Company; but
came on to Vicksburg and
went to work in a tin shop. I had made up my mind that I would not
write to you;
for I did not think that I should stay here more than two months, but I
can make
about twenty-six dollars a month, besides my board here, and I am to
work for a
man that learned his trade where I did in Buffalo and we being old
acquaintances, he wanted me to work for him all summer, to which I
agreed today
that I would do. This then is the reason why I am writing to you in
preference
to walking out. During the daytime here it is very warm, and the
evenings are
cool and beautiful, that it makes it extremely pleasant to spend the
evening in
walking, though not so pleasant as it would be, if you were here to
accompany
me. This beautiful evening, to look out of my chamber window and see
the crowd
of young folks mingling together, talking over, they best know what,
really
brings me upon the border of homesickness, though not so much so, but
that I
will get over it. I think.
You thought that I would be back again in two
months from the time I saw you,
I wish that ir was so, but fifteen hundred miles cannot be traveled
over every
day, and you know I told you that I should not return until next fall,
and when
I make up my mind to do any thing, all the universe cannot change it,
though I
never will make it up to do wrong. I had made up my mind after I had
given you
an invitation to last New Years ball, that I would before leaving you
on New
Years morning, give you an invitation to become my bride; and if all
the mud in
creation had been piled up between Overlin and Pittsfield, it should
not have
prevented me from doing so. And that morning I shall ever remember,
when I made
you the proposition I did, I did not expect from you an answer; because
of the
opposition of your friends; but then I had resolved upon doing so, and
all the
opposition, or advice of friends or enimies [sic] could not alter my
determination. And now having carried my determination thus far
successfully, I
have resolved to carry it still farther, but here I must admit that it
lies in
your power to thwart my design and yours only. But you have told me
that I must
come back and fulfill that contract, but you have
never told me when I
should come, consequently I shall have to wait untill [sic] I hear from
you
before I shall know, but I shall come whenever you set the time. Tis
true that
we are a great ways apart at present, yet it shall not allways [sic] be
so.
Though a long distance lies between us, yet you remain as near to me
now as you
did when we lived near together, and now be assured that though you are
far
away, yet I will ever remember you with sincerest affection.
That kiss that thine own lips have left
Shall never part from mine
Till happier hours restore the gift
Untainted back to thine
The parting glance that fondly gleams
An equal love may see,
The tear that from the eyelid beams
Can make no change in me.
I ask no pledge to make me blest
In crying when alone
No one memmorial [sic] for a breast
Whose thoughts were all thine own
By day or night, in weal or no
My heart no longer free
Must bear the love it cannot show,
And silent ache for thee.
The letter that I asked you to direct to Peyton I
will not get if you have
written one, for I am 400 miles from there. Remember me with affection,
and
write soon.
I remain your affectionate lover, John Warren Bryant
I shall direct this to Mr. Jones in Windsor, and
ask him to direct it to you
if you are not there, for I do not know where you are.
Letter addressed to: Miss Elvira Harmon,
Pittsfield, Lorain Co., Ohio
Buckeye Hotel, Springfield, Ohio
June 28th, 1848
Dearest Elvira,
I hope that you will pardon my presumption in thus
attempting to address you
again at so early a period.
You will see by the date above that it has been but
about 8 days since I
mailed you a letter at Memphis, stating that I was going to Orleans.
But you
will see that instead of going south, I have changed my residence to
this
beautiful little city about 900 miles north of Memphis, and within 150
of you.
The reason for my doing so would not be interesting to you; hence I
will not
waste paper by writing it.
I left Memphis a week ago today, and arrived here
day before yesterday at
noon, so you will see that I came 900 miles in four days and a half,
which was
pretty fast getting through the world.
We found the steamboat that had the mail, in which
my last letter was,
aground in the Ohio River. We took off the passengers and the mail, and
brought
them to Cincinnatti [sic], hence you will see that by my taking the
Railroad
from Cincinnatti [sic], I arrived here ahead of that letter. But enough
about
that, only I will add that in it I asked you to direct me a letter to
Memphis,
which of course you will not do if you receive this soon enough, which
I hope
you will.
It is not necessary for me to write much this time,
because I wrote enough in
the preceding one, hence I shall be brief, and rest with patience
untill [sic] I
hear from you again.
You promised to write the news, as soon as you
heard from me again. I hope
you will for I expect there are strange things going on up there in
Oberlin, and
Pittsfield now. I will see you before long, and then I will tell you
why I think
so.
Ohio is much more like home to me than any of the
southern states. I tried
six of them, and I don’t think that I stayed in a town from
the Gulf of Mexico
to Cincinnatti [sic], where the manner, and customs of the people are
half
human. No - I would much rather live among white folks, and there are a
few of
them in Ohio.
I shall remain here untill [sic] I hear from you,
and then perhaps I will
return a short distance farther north, though not within 30 or 40 miles
of
Oberlin.
Perhaps I will remain here for three or four months
and go to work. Though
even if I do stay I will go up there and pay you a visit in about a
month and a
half.
You said the folks were all enimies [sic] to me up
there, so I will go up and
see what they are going to do about it.
I shall have nothing to do with them, more than to
treat them with the
warmest affection, with which my heart is capable, and I do not think
that
either of them will have the face to treat me any other way than
friendly, or
else let me remain alone; but even if they should, I do not care, for
they only
agravate [sic] themselves, and cause themselves many an unpleasant
feeling.
But it is very late, and I have written enough too,
so I will close. Write as
soon as possible, and be assured I remain your
Affectionate Lover, John Warren Bryant
P.S. Direct your letter, Springfield, Clark Co.,
Ohio
Letter addressed to: Miss Elvira Harmon,
Pittsfield, Lorain Co. Ohio
Springfield
July 16, 1848
Dear Ella,
I have just returned from Indiana, whither I went
on the fourth of July to
see the country, and pass away the time. I do not feel in exactly the
right mood
tonight, to write to any one, much less to you; but then, when I
reflect, I know
your generous heart, will pardon my unintended imperfections. Time was
ere now,
when I loved to write letters, and especially to the girls, but that
was a freak
of my childhood days, which constitutes no part of my present carachter
[sic],
for of late my toungue [sic] claims the superiority over my pen, and
would much
rather do its own work, than allow a silent agent, like a pen to
interfere. But
as polliticians [sic] say, "circumstances alter cases," and I find
myself seated by the side of my table, surrounded by the silent walls
of my
chamber, with no sound to molest me, save the silent farewell notes of
time, as
it rolls on never to return. No sight to attract my eye, but the far
off
twinkling stars as they glitter in the azure sky, or the beautiful
golden moon,
that is now climbing over the summits of her eastern hills, shedding
her
magnificent rays, over the assembled groups of youthful gaiety. Oh!
That I could
mingle with them in their glee, and participate with them in their
gaiety. But
alas! Such pleasure I could not enjoy, unless your own sweet voice
could mingle
with the rest. But dearest, I will state my object in writing to you at
present,
with as much brevity as possible, because I have been very unwell, and
at
present am much too weak to be writing.
While in Indianapolis, I was taken suddenly with a
very severe pain in the
breast, which rendered it very unpleasant and almost impossible for me
to return
home to Springfield. I am much better though this evening, and
anticipate going
to work in a few days. I am now going to give you a discription [sic]
of
Springfield, and then I am going to ask you how you would like to come
down here
and live, for I have partly made an agreement to enter into business
here; which
agreement I shall conclude as soon as I hear from you, providing I have
your
consent. Springfield is a town of 4,000 inhabitants, beautifuly [sic]
situated
on the national road, leading from Columbus to Indianapolis in Indianna
[sic],
40 miles from Columbus and 140 from Indianapolis. The Railroad runs
through here
from Cincinnati to Sandusky, which makes an immense travel here. The
town is
beautifully laid out, and is never muddy, even after the heaviest
rains. But to
cut a long narrative short, allow me to say that it is every way
calculated to
attract the admiration of every lover of all which nature can produce.
During
the last four months I have traveled over seven of the Southern States,
and
Illinois, and Indiana, and - Of all the towns in South, or West, I love
the town
of Springfield best.
But still I should like it much better, were you
here, that I might
participate with you the pleasures that they who live here cannot help
but
enjoy. Time as well as space prompt me to bring this part of my
narrative to a
close.
Buckey [sic] Hotel
July 23, 1848
Dear Ella,
One week has elapsed since the preceding part of
this letter was written, and
no letter from you yet. Oh how inconstant you are getting to be. The
other
letter you wrote to me, you received mine on Monday, and then waited
untill
[sic] Sunday came before you answered it, and then to cap the climax
gave me a
regular old fashioned scolding, I suppose by way of example, that I may
know
what to expect when you have a chance to do as you’re a mind
to.
But I’ll pay you for all this when I see
you again, which shall soon be,
that is, if you answer this pretty soon; if you don’t, I
shall never write to
you again, and I don’t believe I shall ever come to see you.
I have not room for any more negative thot [sic]. I
am again enjoying good
health. Always to remain:
Forever thine!
When hills and seas divide; When storms combine;
When west winds sigh, or deserts part us wide–
Forever thine.
In the gay circle of the proud saloon, whose splendours shine,
In the lone stillness of the evening winds–
Forever thine.
And when the light of song that fires me now, Shall life resign;
My breaking heart shall breathe its last vow–
Forever thine!
John Warren Bryant
Write to me as soon as you can conveniently.
Miss Elvira Harmon
Buckey [sic] Hotel
Springfield
August 19th, 1848
My Dear Ella,
An idle moment has at length arrived, and nothing
gives me more pleasure than
to occupy it, in addressing to you a few lines concerning you and
yours. I
received your precious letter of the 19th of
last month, the next day
after I wrote my last. Had I known what was in it, one day sooner I
would not
have written, that which it appears by your last, has wounded the
feelings of
that heart, which in by-gone days I have so ardently sought after, and
so fondly
loved. Now dear Ella, do not think that I claim to have a perfect
knowledg [sic]
of the heart of woman, for indeed I have not; but still I will venture
to say
that you are well acquainted with the feelings produced upon the mind
by doubts,
which doubts are always its unwelcome visitor, when it suspects that
the love it
has cherished for another remains unreciprocated. Indeed I should judge
by your
last letter which I received last Monday, that while penning it you
were
experimenting in such doubts. I mean that your mind was overwhelmed,
with
feelings, produced by a single doubt, and that doubt was ringing itself
upon
your mind, prompting you to fear that my love for you was not
sufficient to
cause me to return and accept that gentle hand. But believe me Elvira
such is
not the case. No nor never will be; for as long as life
exists; so
long shall my heart cling to thee with a love that it can never–never–never
bestow upon another.
Then dearest if I have not missjudged [sic], strive
to banish those unwelcome
feeling [sic] from your mind, for I know they make
you unhappy. Yes,
Ella, I do for it was under the influence of such
doubts that I penned my
last letter to you. Yes it was and though that letter appeared to be
the
lightest and most jovial of all I have written to you, I must be candid
and say,
that pen can never discribe [sic] the mentel [sic] agony I was
undergoing while
writing it. But your kind letter came to my relief, and all anticipated
disappointments fled before it. Enough for the present, of this; but
more anon.
I see you have left home. What does that mean?
Though I need not inquire, for
it is no more than I expected. I received a letter from some unknown
upstart
there, declaring that there would be a "fuss"
before they
would suffer your name to be changed to Elvira Bryant; and oh!! The
threats–the
awfull [sic] threats–the curses–the anathemas, and
the maladictions [sic]
that are in it, I would never have believed one sheet of paper would
contain.
But let him go for what he will fetch, suffice it to say that I would
have
thought much more of him, if he had been gentelman [sic] enough to have
signed
his name to it.
But now to our own particular affairs. You have at
length "set the
time;" But under the circumstances in which I am placed
render it
necessary that one of two ways should be adapted. I will name the
reasons, and
then name the ways, and being that it is "leap year"
I will
leave it to you to decide which way to prefer. Well the circumstances
are these.
Every hand has left the shop, and I am the only workman there is there,
I have
now three weeks work promised to be done immediately, besides what is
constantly
coming in, and if I leave, the shop will have to be closed for at least
two
weeks and the people disappointed, by their work being undone. This
offer
Harrison will not consent to at any rate whatever. Indeed I cannot
blame him for
it; for to say the least it would be an hundred dollars out of his
pocket, which
looks like a large pile to some men now days [sic].
Hence for this
reason, I cannot promise to come up there under two months, then our
hurry will
begin to erase. But Dear, if it should meet with your approbation, I
would
prefer, for some reasons, to have you come down here. It would only
take you one
night and a day to come, and I can arrange it so that you can come
without any
trouble, by taking the stage at Oberlin or Elyria for Sandusky City,
and then
take the Rail Road [sic] for this place. You would leave Elyria in the
afternoon, and arrive in Sandusky time enough for the Cars in the
morning, which
arrive here the same day at about Sundown. I have not time to write
much more
now; but if you will come, you will write to me and let me know as soon
as you
can, and I will send you another letter with directions to come by, and
enclose
every thing that it will be necessary for to bring you. If you would
prefer it,
I wish you would do it, for I do not know how to wait two months yet
before I
can see you. But then do not do it to please me, for I would rather you
would
decide as you think best. Should you come write to me as soon as you
can and I
will have every thing in readiness by the time you arrive even to Mr.
Turner,
the Universalist Preacher.
But I must close. I am quite well. Write soon now
Dear, and be assured that
"The heart that has truly loved never
forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the Sunflower turns to its God when he sets,
The same looks that it turned when He rose."
– Z. Moore
With Love, Your affectionate, J. W. Bryant
Letter addressed to: My Dear Ella,
Pittsfield, Ohio
Springfield
August 26th, 1848
My Dear,
You will begin to think me an odd genious [sic] for
writing so often;
especially when I have so little to say. Well be that as it may, if you
come
down here, I think this will be the last time that I will have to write
to you;
and I am glad of it; for oh! how much more pleasure it will yield me,
to see
you, and enjoy the pleasent [sic] tones of your merry voice, than to be
always
writting [sic].
Yes dear it would, for of late it has become almost
impossible for me to
write to suit myself; but on the other hand, it would appear that it
was
perfectly natural for you; for I cannot read over your precious
letters, without
bring [sic] to my mind the many happy hours we have spent in each
others [sic]
company. But then what is dearer than all, is the anticipations of the
many
hours–days–months, yes and years to come that I
shall spend happily with her
and her only whom I car [sic].
Yes Ella, to use your own words "I know we shall
live happy."
Indeed there is nothing that I can conceive of to make us unhappy. I
have but to
think how time has fled unconsciously away, those many still
remembered
evenings; and compare it with the future, when I know it will
pass much
swifter, for time only makes you dearer.
But I must borrow a few words from your last letter
and say "You must
come, for on yourself, my happiness alone depends," Then Dear come and
make
me happy at onc [sic] for I shall never be really happy untill [sic] I
can truly
call you mine.
I told you in my last that if you would come I
would send you direction [sic]
and so forth, But why should I wait, and defer the time by so many
letters. No I
will not. I will send directions now, for I think you will come; and by
the time
you arrive all will be in readiness to make us one.
First then; you can
take the stage at Oberlin early in the morning, for Elyria; from Elyria
by stage
to Sandusky city 20 miles. If you stop at a tavern in Elyria, have the
Landlady
inform the Landlord that you wish to take the stage for Sandusky, and
he will
have it call there for you. But perhaps you know more about Elyria than
I do
hence I will say no more of it.
When you arrive in Sandusky, you can ask the
gentleman who will help you out
of the stage what time the cars leave for Springfield, for I do not
know
exactly, though it is very early in the morning; and tell him at the
same time
that you wish to leave on them; and if you stop at the Townsend house,
which is
the best house, an omnibus will be in readiness at the door before the
cars
start.
Before you start it would be best to write your
name and place of destination
on a piece of paper and tack it on the end of your trunk. When you
leave
Sandusky they will give you a check for your trunk, which you must keep
untill
[sic] you get here. I have said all now that is necessary, for you will
find no
difficulty at any rate.
Enclosed you will find a fifty dollar bill which
you can get changed at
Pettons, or in Elyria. Use it as you think best. It will require seven
or eight
dollars to bring you here. Perhaps you can get some one to get it
changed for
you, you know better who than I do. Silas or some one else. I could not
send
smaller bills well, they make up so much bulk, that some one might have
the
curiosity to open the letter to see what is in it. It may be possible
that the
railroad will not be finished here when you come, but if it is not,
there will
be plenty of stages standing around the cars when you stop in Urbanna
[sic], and
all you have to do is get into one of them, and they will bring you
through free
of charge. Do not get in a stage that goes another direction, for then
I would
lose my Ella alltogether [sic]. You need not say anything about your
trunk
there, for that will come on safe. But I think the railroad will be
finished,
they intend to have it done this week.
If you will write me a line as soon as you get this
and tell me when you
intend to start, I will meet you at the railroad and conduct you Home.
Answer all inquiries as best pleases yourself, and be assured I will
ever remain
truly–Sincerely–Affectionately, and fondly thine
own,
J. Warren Bryant
Come as soon as possible.
Letter addressed to: Ella, Pittsfield, Ohio
Springfield
Sept. 11th, 1848
Dear Ella,
It is a moment of disappointment. It is a moment,
which three weeks ago my
organ of hope taught me to anticipate the participation of each others
[sic]
company. It is a moment, which I had flattered myself fully to believe
that we
should sit by each others [sic] side, chatting over the past;
conversing over
the future; or perhaps traveling the banks of the beautiful Lagonda,
reviewing
her sparkling waters, as they wind themselves on through hill and dale,
untill
[sic] buried in the rapid waters of the well-known river of the vale.
But alas!
weeks have yet to pass, ere such bright vision can enrapture the
anxious heart,
with pleasing reality. Oh!! that I could call them, merely days or
hours. But,
then notwithstanding, the disappointment, it is not so great but that I
will
most willingly yieald [sic] to your wishes and think like you, that
they are
preferable to my own.
You seem to imply that our nuptials are to be
celebrated in the house
occupied by Horrace [sic]. Then is it true that he, who has been
pleased to
bestow upon my self the ignominious appellation of "fuss,"
"mischief maker," and so forth; and heap upon my
head,
malignant abuse, in whatever covert or unfair manner his inventions
have
favoured [sic] him with, has granted his house to be the theatre [sic]
of a
scene, which he but a few weeks ago looked upon with such horrid
contempt. My
Elvira, I hope that you will allow me to implore of you for once, not
to
calculate for our marriage to be celebrated in your brothers house,
unless that
house be freely granted. No never–never–never!
While one spark of the
crimson current remains to strengthen me, will I ask of him a favor.
But if you
will pardon me I will say no more upon this subject, for I have said
too much
already.
I wish you would write to me as soon as possible,
and inform me if my return
on the third Sunday in October, which I believe is the fifteenth, would
be
acceptable to you, and if it should be, tell me also where I will find
you, for
you speak of going to Windsor, and unless you do write I will not know
whether
to go down to Windsor or go on to Sandusky and Elyria.
Now Dear I hope you will have the guests invited,
and things in readiness,
being that you have engaged to set that part of the play. If you can
Ella, while
you are giving invitations, I wish you would engage some of the invited
to
obtain our license, for I shall be under the necassaty [sic] of being
in great
haste; as I cannot be spared from here long. But do as you think best
about
that, and let me know accordingly so that I can make my calculations
aright.
Do not invite any one untill [sic] the day
previous, for if you do it will be
all over Lorain County, and there will be many there that I do not wish
to see,
and whom I know you would not invite; especially some from Oberlin.
Give Elmira and Silas my best respects. You may
tell them that I approve of
their courage and determination in venturing out on lifes [sic] rugged
deep in
the barque of rural felicity, which I might call union.
May united friendships serve as sails to re [sic]
waft them gently on before
the breezze; [sic]
and when surrounded by the storms of adversity;
may love prove to be a faithful ballast to their ship,
then rendering their voyage one of unmingled pleasure.
Write to me as soon as you can; and allow me to
remain
Your most affectionate Warren
Letter addressed to: Mr. John Warren
Bryant, Springfield, Clark Co., Ohio
(This letter was postmarked Oberlin, O.)
Pittsfield
Sept. 26th, 1848
Most dear and affectionate Warren,
Once more I take my pen to write a few lines to one
that I prize above all
earthly beings, and the time not being far distant when I can enjoy the
company
of that Dear one never to be seperated [sic] again, when I can meet you
with the
same happy smiles that I used too [sic] do, and not only myself but all
of my
relatives will greet you also which will make it much pleasanter [sic]
for you
and for myself, too. I have seen them all and conversed freely on the
subject
with them. They will all be here the 15th as
that is the day that you
have set for to excep [sic] my hand and heart. I will gladly consent to
it, you
wish me to have every thing in readiness which I will; even to the
License and
the Minister.
Brother Dudley or Smith either of them will assist
me. It seems to be the
minds of my Brothers and sisters that we should be united at our home
it being
just as much our home as it has been.
Or I mean Horace has no more liberty here than any
of the rest of us could
take if we felt disposed to although he calculated to dwell here. I
have not
said any thing to Horace about your return, but I told brother Wm. He
said (he)
would talk with him which he did. Horace says if (he) cant [sic] treat
you like
a Brother, he will leave home. I don’t think you need fear
him so doing as we
have the majority on our side.
Fayette was at home two weeks ago and wished me to
write to you a little for
him. He wants to leave Sullivan and go some where where he can do
better. He
says he is a friend to yourself and never been otherwise. He says if he
can get
into any kind of buseness [sic] there he would be very happy to
acompany [sic]
us to Springfield; will you be so kind as to write and let him know
what you
think about it. I have not been to Windsor yet. I can not go there
before your
return.
Elmira has been very sick which has put my work
back so I that I cannot get
time to go, and brother Horace was married yesterday which made the
work very
hard there being no one to do it except myself to wait on his company.
Him [sic]
and his wife have gone South on a visit now; I attended the wedding
with Silas,
the only ones that went from here. No more at present.
But will remain your kind and loveing, [sic] Elvira
Excuse my poor writing.
Letter addressed to: Mrs. Elvira Bryant,
Findlay, Ohio
Urbana, Ohio
Jan 27th, 1850
My Dearest Ella,
About the 7th of the present
month I addressed to you a letter. On
the 15th I received one, which said nothing of
your receiving the
above mentioned one from me. I took it for granted that it had
miscarried, and
immediately addressed another, similer [sic] to the first, to you, and
to which
I expected an answer last week. Last week came–but with it no
letter. Another
week has commenced, and my mind is now led to believe that some prying
miscreant
has made use of my letters before they reached you.
But I hope such will not be the case with this, as
I shall adapt means to
avoid it.
I’ll repeat now what I have written
before; that with your consent we will
settle in Urbana, as long as I shall have to work as a Journeyman. It
is a
pleasant place, in a pleasant country, and I do not know as I can do
better than
nine dollars a week and stay here. And now if you will write me
immediately,
stating that you will get on the cars and come down here, without my
going after
you, what money you require at once, and you will thereby curtail our
moving
expenses $12.00, and that we can dispose of profitably after you arrive.
I wish you would enquire of Mrs. Mariem what she
charges per month for those
rooms. Mr. Beach says $3.00 per month; but that is more than she
charged for the
other part, and is too much.
I have purchased a new suit of black, and am
playing the genteel at present
as well as I know how. The young ladies are falling in love with me,
and I am
afraid if you do not come erelong [sic] to allay the excitement, that I
shall be
abducted by some of them.
Since writing the foregoing page, I have been over
to a pond on the east side
of town, to witness the baptism of eight new converts. I saw while
there Mr. and
Mrs. McKinney, and two eldest daughters, formally [sic] of Lima; they
are
residing here at present.
Now Dear Ella in closing allow me to implore you to
write soon and tell me
that you are coming down here for I long to see you, and our
little boy. If
it is not necessary for me to return to Findlay, I will get Mr. Beach
to hire a
man to pack up the things and put them on the cars for you. My health
is good
and I am growing fat. No more now. Good bye. But
Ever your affectionate J. W. Bryant
Urbana
Mrs. Elvira Bryant, Findlay
Haec
Ego
Amor Forever
On the back page of this letter, John
wrote: I direct this to Mr. Beach
because I think he will be sure to get it. J.W.B.
(There was no envelope or address with this letter.)
Postmarked Warsaw, Indiana
May 2nd, 1853
Dear Wife,
I, having a few spare moments have concluded to
occupy them by addressing a
few lines to yourself. The last letter I wrote, was written in moments
of
different days, and consequently contained nothing relative to the
country in
which I live, and in which we expect to make our future home. In the
first place
the country is a very pleasant one, the timbered land being broken by
vast
Prairies, and interspersed with beautifull [sic] lakes, containing
excellent
fish, and affording a rendesvous [sic] for all kinds of game such as
deer, wild
geese, ducks, etc. We have prairies north of us ten miles in length and
from
four to five in width, and better land never received the plow.
Our timbered lands are of two kinds, viz, oak
openings, or barrens and heavy
timber, the latter is far the best land, although it is not so easy to
clear and
cultivate for the first time, for the trees are so scattering on the
former that
a man need not clear it at all, but build him a house and go to
plowing, the
land I bought is in the heavy timbered section of country, and is a
most
excelent [sic] piece of land as far as the soil is concerned, but it
will be
somewhat expensive clearing up. I have about as much cleared and fenced
as
Williams’s whole farm. I have a house, a barn, smoke house,
milk house, and
every thing convenient to live, but cannot get possession now,
Finley’s agent
here rented the place for three years from March 1852, but I expect he
will give
it up as soon as he gets his crops of that he now has in. I shall make
Finly
[sic] pay me the damages that the loss of the place will be to me up to
that
time.
The people hear [sic] are nearly all Buckeyes, and
are a very clever lot of
folks. Alfred Rough from Windsor lives within half a mile of our place,
and is
farming and blacksmithing together. They are a working on the Rail Road
[sic]
here now which runs from Mansfield to Chicago. It will be done though
in about
one and a half years, and then we can go from here to Mansfield in a
few [h]ours.
I suppose you will be preparing to go to Pittsfield
and Elyria when you
receive this which I would advise you to do, I will furnish you with
money to do
up your visiting this summer whenever you want it, so you had better
embrace the
opportunity for you may not have an opportunity again for a few years;
but do
not make your visits to [sic] long in a place, for your folks think
nothing of
you I am sure, and should you see fitt [sic] to make it your home a
while with
any of them make a bargain with, and pay them for it.
I shall be down there in July or sooner if you want
I should, but I do not
want to be gone long, as I wish to retain my place here, which I can
for
one....two or a half a dozen years if I see propper [sic] and am not
away so as
to make it necessary for to hire another hand to fill my place. I
design when I
move you up here to get some boy to work what land I have improved and
take care
of the things, and to work in the shop myself, so that I can make
something of
the place, and with my hands too.
If you should find any boy that would like too
[sic] come out here and live
with us next spring, that will be satisfied if they are paid for it,
and not get
homesick, tell them they can have a chance.
I would send you some more money, but I want to
hear that you have got that
last I sent first, and then I will if you will tell me where to send it
too.
I think I have written a plenty this time, try and
get along the best you can
untill [sic] I come down and I will make arrangements for the future so
good-bye.
Yours affectionately, J.W. Bryant
Letter addressed to: Mrs. Elvira Bryant,
Oberlin, Lorain Co., Ohio
(This letter was postmarked Warsaw, Ind.)
Aug 10th, 1853
Dear Ella,
Yours of last Sunday, I just received, and hasten
to write to let you know
that I am well, and am glad to hear that you are pretty nearly so.
I did not calculate to write untill [sic] I could
send you some more money,
which I have failed to get, on account of the absence of Mr. Chapman,
longer
than I expected. He went to LaPorte last week, and has not returned
yet, but I
am looking for him dayly; [sic] and I think that you can look for more
money the
first part of next week. I have some of his money by me now but do not
like to
use it without his knowing it. We have had three of the warmest days of
weather
here that I ever saw any where [sic]. Today the thermometer stood 106
in our
shop, so you may guess we had a comfortable time of it. If it should
continue so
long I am afraid it will make it unhealthy. I will write again on
Sunday if not
sooner. So good-bye.
Your affectionate, J.W. Bryant
*****
The following information was added by Cheryl
Harmon Bills who has compiled
and submitted these letters online at the request of Doris Garza.
The 1880 census shows Elvira, a widow, living in
Pittsfield, Lorain, Ohio.
With her is her youngest son, Charles, his wife and infant daughter.
According
to census records, Charles was born in Indiana (which differs from the
family
records that Doris Garza has) and his father (who would be John Warren
Bryant)
was born in New Hampshire.
1880 Census Place: Pittsfield, Lorain, Ohio
Source: FHL Film 1255042 National Archives Film
T9-1042 Page 549B
Relation Sex Marr Race Age Birthplace
Elvira Bryant Self F W W 55 Ohio
Occ: Housekeeper Fa: VT Mo: ---
Charles Bryant Son M M W 24 Indiana
Occ: Farm Laborer Fa: NH Mo: ---
Eva Bryant DauL F M W 19 Ohio
Fa: Mass Mo: ---
Blanch Bryant GDau F S W 1 Ohio
Fa: Indiana Mo: Ohio
Harmon family records may be found at: http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?op=GET&db=:2455950&id=I3306
1882 History of Noble County by
Goodspeed and Blanchard, pages 82 and 83:
"From this time {March 1853} until the summer of 1854, there was no
paper
published in Albion; but at the latter date, John W. Bryant came from
Warsaw,
Kosciusko county, with an old fashioned Franklin press and old printing
material, and commenced the publication of the Albion Palladium, a
Democratic
paper. Shortly afterward, Theodore F. Tidball became a
partner with Bryant
in the publication and editorship of the Palladium, and the paper was
issued
from an office then located just east of the present site of R.L.
Stone's
drugstore. The building belonged to William M.
Clapp. In the spring
of 1855, the press and types were seized under a writ of replevin or
attachment
from Kosciusko county. Deprived of his press, Bryant went to
Columbia
City, Whitley County, with his compositors, where by doubling teams the
Palladium and the Democratic paper of Whitley county were both issued
weekly
from one press. The Palladium was folded and addressed and
brought over to
Albion in a buggy every week, and published and distributed
there. S.E.
Alvord accompanied Bryant, and graciously gave his services as
assistant editor
during the Whitley county episode, which lasted until the autumn of
1855,
Tidball being in the meantime engaged in organizing a stock company of
Democrats
for the purchase of a new press and materials. This was
accomplished, and
in the fall of 1855, the paper was re-established in Albion under the
name of
the Noble County Palladium, Tidball and Bryant, editors and
publishers. It
was a decidedly Democratic sheet, and engaged with great activity and
vim in the
somewhat bitter partisan discussion of that time. The
Palladium lived
through the campaign of 1856, and stopped near the close of that
year. The
press and types of the Palladium were purchased of the stockholders by
S.E.
Alvord, and in February, 1857, was commenced the publication of the
Noble County
Democrat. The proprietor, S.E. Alvord, was editor, and at
first associated
with himself, as publisher, G.I.Z. Rayhouser, of Fort Wayne. The Noble
County
Democrat, under the successive foremanship and management of W.T.
Kimsey, George
W. Roof and John W. Bryant, and under the editorship of S.E. Alvord,
completed
two volumes and then discontinued until September, 1859."
John W. Bryant's association with the paper ended
with his death in 1857.
See also Samuel E. Alvord's History
of Noble County, Indiana.
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