A lengthy and highly personal family letter written from Troy, New York, in the spring of 1847, offering a vivid portrait of everyday life, illness, agricultural hardship, and frontier anxieties in mid-nineteenth-century America. Addressed to her brother and sister, William and Betsy Rhodes, Polly Loomis writes at considerable length about family health, crop failures, fire, economic conditions, and the emotional strain of separation from loved ones. The letter opens with distressing news regarding the serious illness of her mother, whose condition has left the writer fearing she may never see her again: “The sickness of my dear mother and to be so far from her and can not see her is more than a feat that I can endure.” Loomis recounts widespread illness among relatives and neighbors while reflecting on the loneliness of life far from family and the infrequency of correspondence. She laments a devastating agricultural season, reporting that winter wheat had been killed and potatoes largely frozen, raising fears of food shortages: “We have had a hard winter, the wheat is all killed and the potatoes that was buried almost all froze.” Particularly dramatic is her account of a major prairie or brush fire that threatened their home. Family members fought the blaze for hours, ultimately saving the house but losing fences, hay, and rails: “Such a fire you never see… we all had to turn out and fight the fire for five hours… we had our shed and hay burnt and a good many rails.” The letter also contains references to local employment, livestock, hunting, and folk medicine, including a home remedy for consumption (tuberculosis) involving roasted egg shells mixed with molasses. Throughout, Loomis blends practical observations with expressions of religious faith and affection for distant family members. The letter concludes with warm personal messages from various relatives and a heartfelt valediction wishing that all may be prepared for “the land where the sun’s delight,” a characteristic expression of nineteenth-century evangelical sentiment. An evocative and content-rich family letter documenting rural life in antebellum America, with noteworthy references to illness, agriculture, fire, frontier conditions, and family networks in upstate New York during the 1840s. Such lengthy, detailed domestic correspondence provides valuable insight into the lived experience of ordinary Americans in the decades preceding the Civil War. Condition: Folded as mailed; scattered toning, minor staining, and wear from handling; manuscript remains generally legible throughout. Address panel present with remnants of red wax seal.
| Transcription: |
Troy April the 24th 1847 Beloved Brother and Sister I sit down to answer the receipt of your letter which I received the 17th inst with what feelings do I read of the sickness of my dear mother and to be so far from her and can not see her it is more then a feat that I can endure. O my Mother shall I never see her more in this life perhaps er this she has bid adieu to this vale of tears and her happy spirit is gone to the paradise of God, could I but now know it is; but if she should be alive and should live till in the summer I should have some hopes of seeing her but life is uncertain. William is still sick with the ague and fever and Almond and Rebecca have the chill fever. The whole family have had it since last week, how often do I say what did we ever come here for, but I will try to be still and submit to the will of the Lord for he does all things well although we are sick and poor and in a far distant land yet do I remember friends of my childhood; at times my heart swells almost bursting when I think distance that deprives me from my friends and then not to have a letter once in three or four months, now do not think that I want to complain no no my brother but just take my place then you will know how much you think of your friends. We have had a hard winter, the wheat is all killed and the potatoes that was buried almost all froze, now if the spring wheat should be killed we shall all have to go without bread you say that writers expect the Lord the 1st of this month; that time is past but if he or you had been here the 11th me thinks you would have thought the burning day had come. Some one went and set the prairie on fire and such a fire you never see. The wind fanned it straight to our house. We all had to turn out and fight the fire for five hours. We made out to save our house but had our shed and hay burnt and a good many rails. Now picture to yourself a fire coming sweeping all before it, nothing but fire and smoke in every direction destroying every thing in the way, the large green oak all on fire and methinks you would think of that day when this whole world will be on fire. Please imagine the rest. We have got our well finished. It is forty five feet deep and good water. Corydon has hired out for eight months for ten dollars a month. William has swapped his wagon for a pair of oxen and a breaking plow. If he and Almond was well they would be a breaking their land but they say fever and ague that is the game here. We have not seen Lou yet nor never expect to. We had a letter from Cary the day we got yours. He is still sick but the ague. We received one from Harriot Loomis. She writes we need not look for her farther to come here; he won't never come. Now they need not feel bad for us; we do not want them here, no not I. I am glad they don't want to come. Now I will tell that we have found a remedy for the phthisic. Take the egg shells, scorch them on the stove then pulverize them and mix with molasses. Take a teaspoonful three times a day and it will cure. Corydon has almost cured his. You say your health is poor and Betsys. O how I wish I could see you all, and all the rest of my brothers and sisters, but I must suppress such feelings. Remember me to all our friends. Tell Sister Hale to write to me. Tell Sister Keziah to remember her poor sis. Tell Pheron. Almond would have sent him a deer skin if he had a chance. He killed two at one shot and the shot one after it was five feet from the end of the nose to the end of the tail. Christina Merritt says she wish she was there to eat sugar with you. The children all send love to all. William sends his best wishes and love to all. Write as soon as you receive this without fail for I shall be uneasy until I hear from you, and now may the Lord bless you abundantly and may we all so live that when called to die we may be prepared to exchange this world of sickness, pain and death for the land where the sun's delight— this from your sister in love Polly Loomis to her brother and sister William and Betsy Rhodes
