|Felton family letters,|
[addressed from Spencer, Mass. Mar. 15th to Miss Lucinda Felton, Salem, Mass. (to the care of Mr. Amory Felton -- Lucinda's uncle)]
I had the pleasure of reading a letter this evening, written by you to Sarah, in which I saw a request that I would write to you. I therefore improve the first opportunity in complying with your request. It is a great undertaking for me to write a letter, but I hope you will excuse all imperfections, which I am afraid will not be a few.
I have lately closed my school, in which business, I presume you have heard, I have been engaged during the past winter. It was on that account that I deferred writing until now. There has been such havoc made amongst school masters in this quarter the past winter that I thought I would not let you know anything about my school until I knew whether I was likely to get through with it or not. I did, however, have the good luck to get through with it without being molested by anyone and without hearing any complaint -- only from one old woman who tried to make disturbance because I striped her great boy's back. But the people took no notice of her and told me if the scholars would not mind to put on the stick, so that was all the comfort the poor old lady got.
As I said before, there has been such havoc made with school masters that I was careful to carry a pretty steady hand. In Charleston there has been eight school masters turned away, two of which were Joshua Hyde's sons, George and Frederick. In Spencer there has been several turned away, and in Woodstock, the town where I kept, a master was tried for whipping a scholar, fined seventeen dollars, and had all costs to pay -- which in all amounted to about thirty dollars.
But I had the good luck to get into a very good district. [I] had a very pleasant school of fifty scholars, some of which were considerably older than myself, but none of which I was not able to teach in any of the branches pursued in common schools. I suppose you will say to yourself, "I guess you had a backward school," but not so backward, perhaps, as you may think [for?]. But enough of this.
I have no news to write, and nothing, I suppose, that will be very interesting to you. But if I pay the postage I presume you won't find much fault. I expect to work on the farm this summer, though if I could get some business that suited me, I had rather pay a man to take my place. But Father could not do without me if I had but one hand. Our friends are all usually well in this place. As for myself, I never enjoyed better health in my life than during the past winter. The people all laugh at me for being so fat, but I tell them I have been living in Connecticut, where fat pork and beef abound in great plenty.
Mr. Hubbard Deland has run away. I understand he owes about $200, which was the reason for his absconding. A fine character for a young man. Mary Whitteman is to be married soon, if not already, to a man in Dudley by the name of Webster. Loring Carter is in jail for the same crime for which his brother was hung, and will undoubtedly share the same fate.
Mother says she does not know how to wait until next fall before she sees you, but shall not expect to see you before that time, if you go to Charlestown. She and the children unite in sending their love to you and [hole in paper] in that place give my love to all [am?]ners friendly in Salem accept a share yourself. Tell Uncle O he must excuse me for not writing to him. Shall endeavor to do so soon, but he must not wait for me for he can write five to my one. Write me at the receipt of this and let us know when you calculate to go to Charlestown and to whose care we must direct our letters. I must stop or I shall soon get cornered [he was writing into the bottom corner of the page].
Your affectionate brother
This letter was wrote in the dusk with a poor pen and poorer ink.
[envelope is addressed to Mr. Amory Felton, Brookfield, S.P., Massachusetts, and is postmarked at Danvers, Mass. on March 20.]
From the conversation of the polite, the genteel, and the gay, from all the scenes that surround me, my heart and my pen turn with ardor and affection towards the spot of my nativity, and my nearest earthly friends. Think not that I have forgotten you, the sweet and thrilling recollection of home together with the loved and cherished ideas of the affectionate friends it contains can never be erased from my mind.
The reason of my not writing to you by one of my Uncles is I didn't know but I should come home with one of them untill it was too late. I have been staying here this 6 weeks with promises that they would carry me home next week, next week, & ct., and as the season has now arrived in which I must look out for work I don't know when I shall come home. If I had gone from Charlestown last winter it would have cost me but 3 dollars, as I should not have had to paid [sic] for lodging nor food. It will now cost me five and I have not got it to spend.
Nothing venture nothing have, I am going to have a shop and if I fail I shall and that will be all. Now I think you had better set your wits to work and get all the money you can for a while and then look for some good place and have a shop of dry goods and I will take a chamber over it and carry on my trade which will bring you much more [customers?]. You will laugh, I presume, and call it nonsense, but I tell you that a spirit of enterprize and perseverance will make it an easy task to perform. I talk now of going to Byfield [Brookfield] the middle of May but that is no place for a store. There is nothing for you to the westward. You had better by half stay where you are and do as I tell you. The place where I intend to go is a small town near Newburyport. It is in the center of the town where there is a factory which employs a great number. Sarah Batchelder & I talk of going together. It is an excellent place for our business. A connexion of Sarah's is building a store there and we shall have a chamber over it. He applied to Sarah to come and she says she will go if I will go with her. We have got to borrow money, both of us, to begin with, but the lowest beginnings often end well. If you have got 10 dollars you would like to lend I will take it and give you 6 per ct, but it just as it is most convenient [sic] for you I can borrow it here, I suppose. If you lend it to me I should like it soon. Send it in a letter. There will be no danger. I shall commence soon to get things ready to open a shop.
I shall not set another time to come home but shall probably come this summer. As quick as I can turn myself on my heel and stand erect and know that I have a place where I can earn something, I shall come home and make you a visit.
Uncle O [i.e., Oliver Felton] told me that you asked him if I had experienced Religion and wished to know if it was so. I will answer both of your questions in the same way. My first and great aim will ever be to worship my God in sincerity and truth and do good to all. When I look back upon my past life and and [sic] consider the innumerable blessings which has been bestowed on me my heart is excited to the worship of the giver. With these views I am ready at any time to enter the eternal world and can go without the least dread. Religion does not consist in outward form nor in the particular doctrine you believe in, but it is the state of the heart. Hypocrisy, fanatacism [sic], and discord are abroad in the world, and it will be much better for us never to enter a house of worship but confine our devotions entirely to our own hearts and closets than to drink in such nauseous stuff. The phrase Experiencing Religion is not understood, generally. There is no mystery at all about it is nothing supernatural; no, it is a change in our affections from earth to heaven brought about by our being convinced and sensible of our situations, when we have resolved to live in the service of God and become established we feel an inward joy and satisfaction which we never knew before. I would that ye were all resolved to Praise God here on earth that ye might praise him in his Kingdom. Such is a few of my Ideas, how widely soever they may differ from other people's, and as to being a Methodist, I can tell you that my mind is not made up neither will it be until I have with a mind free from prejudice perused the sacred Volume. Give my best love to my Parents, Brothers, and Sisters, and friends at large and accept a great share for yourself, and don't forget to write.
Your affectionate Sister
[This is Lucinda Felton, daughter of Skelton Felton and Lucinda (Adams) Felton.]
It is more than twenty years since I have taken my pen to write a letter, and I think you will smile when you come to read my old-fashioned lines.
We received your letter yesterday with pleasure but we should have been more pleased if you had-a brought it yourself. If you follow the business that you are in now this winter, I am afraid that it won't agree with your health. I shall feel anxious about you every cold storm that comes, for I shall think that you are out in it a-freezing. Don't be too anxious to get property. Take care of your health; that is the greater blessing.
Lucinda is in Oxford at her trade and has as much work as she can do at present, but I think she will come back to Brookfield this winter to keep school.
Sarah is at Mr. Twichel's, Alma is a-closing shoes , and the rest of the children are at school and are in good health and send love to you.
Amory, I want to see you and as soon as you can make it convenient. I wish you would come to calculate your business so as to not be out in cold, stormy weather.
Give my love to Mr. Mathews and wife. Tell them I want to see them and their little son very much. Do write often and may you be blessed with health and prosper in all your undertakings. This is the prayer of
Your affectionate Mother,
My Dear son,
The letter we have received from you has been received with great pleasure. I know of nothing that gives us more pleasure than the receiving a line from you which informs us you are well. You little know how anxious we feel about you. None but a parent can tell a parent's feeling.
We were informed by Mrs. Adams that you were selling English goods by peddling them out. The business is good, I suppose, by what peddlers tell me, but you must recollect that it is attended with danger in many parts of our country, and you must be careful and not expose yourself. You ought to go prepared for any emergency. You can't be too careful. Our country is full of ruffians and they think peddlers have money.
I should think you might make a good trip through the south part of Vermont and the north part of this state, and make it in your way to come home. We all want to see you very much.
Mrs. Adams got out of the stage at our town, stayed and took tea, and I went and carried her home. It was a happy meeting, I thought, at our house, but it was nothing compared to the one when she got home. Emeline had her arms around her neck at once. She is as good a woman as ever lived.
I have no news to write. Everything is about the same as when you left. Shoemaking is all the [?]. Rob Reed is here -- a poor bitch, he pegs shoes a little and runs about a great deal, goes well [shod?], pays nothing to anybody and I guess he never will. Harvey Jenks is married to one of Joseph Walker's girls and he is a poor devil and always will be, and there is a good many such at this time in this town.
I talk of leaving the old place in the spring but I don't know how it will be. I want to come out West [i.e., to Troy, N.Y.] but don't know as I ever shall. I think Lucinda will come to Troy next season if you stay there and she has her health. If I leave the farm in the spring the boys will go to a trade.
I think of nothing more to write at present. Give our best respects to Mr. and Mrs. Mathews and tell them their friends here are all well, so far as we know, except their Aunt Bemis, who, the last I heard, was wasting away with the consumption. The last I heard she was confined to her room. Horatio Moor died last spring and your Uncle Moses [Felton] had a letter from the Ohio the other day which stated that Lucius was but just alive.
Write often and let us know how you get along on the rugged path of life which you [?] find strewed with more thorns than flowe[rs ?] but when you come upon the thorns [you?] must tread the lighter.
Your affectionate father,
[letter folded into an envelope and addressed to Miss Alma C. Felton, East Brookfield, Worcester County, Mass. and postmarked Rhinebeck, N. Y., Jan 1. The postage is 18 3/4 cents. Rhinebeck is in Dutchess County, NY.]
I received a letter from Jane a short time since with much pleasure. And had it not been for her P.S. I should have written to her. But that turned the current of my thoughts. She wrote that she was subjected to the arduous task of building a fire in the parlor occasionally for you. And as I am an elder sister and pretty well acquainted with the masculine gender in B--d [Brookfield], I think that a little advice will be very beneficial and I shall endeavor to deal out a portion that will take your eye as much as your strength will bear.
In the first place attend to my text. Vis. Beware of false prophets that come to you in sheep's clothing. Never spend an hour with any one that you do not respect and that you know you shall never marry. Some girls have great pleasure in having it said they have got a beau. It seems to excite their vanity very much to be courted by a host. But I tell you beware; never receive the addresses of but one at a time if you would be respected, and let him be strictly moral and industrious.
In the second place be pretty well convinced that his ideas are [simi]lar to your own, that his intentions are pure. If he ever in word thought or [deed?] treats you with the least disrespect, turn him out of doors with a peremptory command never to darken them again. Never countenance a single unbecoming word when alone with a gentleman -- any more than you would take a viper and put it in your bosom. Be assured the man that loves you will treat you with respect unless you forfeit his love and respect both by some unguarded actions of your own. If you preserve a proper decorum yourself you can very easily tell whether a man loves you or not by the perfect respect with which he always treats you.
In the third place be very cautious how you let him know that you love him. Never fawn upon true love. It will wilt it as soon as a midday sun will a cabbage plant. Love won't bear an emetic nor the least thing that nauseates its stomach. I advise you have a calm, rational, consistent courtship or none at all.
In the fourth place look well to the first offer. Don't look for riches if you can get an honest industrious mechanic that looks decent and has good sense. One that you can love. I should think you would rather have him than to have an old limping bulking with half a million tied to his heels.
And now as Dave Crockett says, "Be sure you are right -- then go ahead." I should like to know who he is. Don't write any more mysteries to me. Write in plain words when it is going two hundred miles. I want Jane should write to me once in four weeks exactly. Fill a whole sheet. I want to know everything that is going on. The most trifling thing will be interesting to me.
Don't you leave Mother alone a single day till I come home and I will make you a handsome present. I shall come home next summer if I am alive and well. If the weather is as cold there as it is here I should not think it best for the children to go to school -- especially Jane, if her health is as poor now as it was when Mrs. Blanchard was there. Tell Benjamin and Maria to help fill a sheet. Tell Henry I will fetch him a cap when I come. Mr. Blanchard says he will take Benjamin and learn him the cabinet trade. I should think it would be full as well for him to learn a good trade as to delve [?] that cursed old farm. I should think he would be full as well prepared to get his living. If he could have a farm when he is twenty-one then it would be some object. He can have no better place than this. There is no folks in this part of the country that moves in a better circle than Mr. Blanchard's family. And there is no better folks.
The people that tried to injure [Isabell?] may stop now. Her walk is far above theirs. I guess she would consider it a great condescension in her to associate with them if they were here. Give my love to all enquiring friends. Present my respects to Mr. and Mrs. Darling & Jane Maria [Impropria personae?] Kiss the babe for me. Tell Mrs. Olds to take good care of those boys till I come. Brookfield will swarm soon. Tell them they had better emigrate to the west. It beats all. There has been young ones enough born since I came away to people a small village. I shall be a stranger among my own kindred. Give my love to Mrs. Gilbert. Tell her I will call and take tea with her in a few days. Tell Mrs. Whittemore not to forget me. Tell Cousin Clarke that there is a grand good farm out here. Tell Mr. Capen & wife that I should like an invitation to spend an afternoon and evening with them. Ask Mr. Searles if his wife's hair is grown yet. If not, I will send her a wig. Tell Mrs. Allen I cannot find my Dutchman yet. I guess he is dead. Wish them all happy New Year for me.
I suppose you will say this is a terrible compound but I thought I must write something or I should never get another from home. Tell Sarah to write. When I hear that she has a beau I will write to her. I should like to know if she has got her pay of Draper. I want to know where Mary Ward is, who preaches in Hayestead, and who is courting, who is married, who is dead, and everything else that you can think. I want you should mail a letter the first Monday in Feb. without fail. I wish you all Happy New Year. I meant to have filled this page but I shan't be able to. Tell Mother I have not ventured on the ice yet. Have not had the influenza since I left Troy. Don't forget to write to
Direct to Rhinebeck
P. S. I hope Mother will tease you all as she used to me till you write --------- Beware how you make me dance in the brass kettle. The state of B--d trundlebed company is very alarming. Tell Nancy Olds to defer her wedding till I come home. Now don't be fool enough to show this to a living mortal, for your own sake as well as mine.
We received your letter the 16th and was very happy to learn that you were in good health and that you had not frozen nor starved to death. This cold weather I think you will be likely to winter, now. Last Sabbath I wrote a long letter to you and sealed it, got it Monday morning to send to the Post Office. Father thought of something he wanted to write. I broke the seal and tore it, so I was obliged to destroy it. However, it contained nothing very important. There is nothing new in this place, nor never will be unless I should happen to get married. I confess I have been rather negligent in answering your letter, but I have a good deal of work since I came home. Last Thursday there was a famous sleighride in this city -- forty couples, I think. Father and Mother and Sarah and Alma attended the ride. Benjm, Jane, and Maria went and danced in the evening. Henry and I stayed at home. They went round me and over me and under and gave me no invitation. However, it did not affect me much. "I am one what is capable of waiting on myself."
We have just received a letter from Uncle O[liver]. He is not coming up in the spring to live and for "this and all other blessings I desire to thank the Lord."
Mother wants you should write and let her know when you are coming home. She wants to know whether you have had enough to eat and drink, etc. She has been teasing me this three weeks every day to write to you. I want you should write where Nancy is and when you are going to be married, etc., etc., etc.
You wanted I should write when I was coming back. I want to come tomorrow. I am as discontented as I can live. But I don't know as it would be prudent for me to come. I shall go to work at dressmaking when I come back; and business, I expect, is rather dull now. If I was sure of work at anything, Brookfield wouldn't hold me another week.
Mother says she has got seven children at home; she wants you here to complete the number. Sarah is fixing to get married but the time is not set, I believe. I don't see any other way but I must take two jigs. Well it takes me to dance in the hogs' trough and I can't hardly.
I want you to write what you think Benjm had better do. Whether he had better learn a trade or whether, if he should go to school one quarter, he could do anything in Troy to advantage.
Your brand new brother [i.e., -in-law] Clarke sends his love to you. He and Sarah set in the corner singing with about fifteen other children in this very selfsame identical east room.
What shall I say next? Well, give my love to Mr. Mathews and wife; Mr. White's family from the least to the greatest; tell Decker to go it, you cripple, I care not. We all send a great deal of love. I had a letter from Mrs. Blanchard. She wants you should write very much. You must write a long letter to her. Direct [it] to B. Richmond, Wayne Co., Ind. She wants I should come out there in the spring very much.
Chapin, as you call him, did not come here. I guess he was afraid I should "take a shine."
Tell Mrs. Mathews her friends here were well a few days since. I have not been there, I have had no opportunity when I have had leisure. I saw Hiram Henshaw. The last I heard from Ira he had concluded not to come out there this winter.
Write soon without fail and you shall have an answer rather sooner.
[This letter is written on the same sheet as Lucinda Felton's letter of January 17, 1835.]
You will recollect that I don't owe you a letter, but as I have an opportunity to write a few lines and not have it cost you anything, I think I will do it and trust Providence for the [p?]ay.
You say in your letter to L. that you have not failed yet although almost all the grocers in Troy have. That gives me a good deal of satisfaction -- and I hope you never will; and at any rate I would not be run down by the Yankees.
Capt. Hitchcock finds fault with you and Maynord for not writing him. He says he has written and you don't answer him. He wants I should go to Troy and see if I can't find business that I should like. He says he knows I could do well in many kinds of business there. He says that Maynord's business would be good business for me if he is going to quit it. But you[r] Uncle O[liver] does not think now that he shall move up till fall. If he does not I shall stay here unless I can get into a better business.
By the time I get ready to go west we shall have a railroad to go on; the Wooster and Albany Railroad is now established and they are going to build with all their might.
I have nothing new to write.
If we don't buy any more stock [cattle] in the spring I think I can let you have $100 if you want.
I have some plans in my head for my future course which I leave for L. to tell you when she returns to Troy. At the same time if you find any business that you think would suit me, if it should be selling [stripe?], secure it for me, for I am not under any obligation to stay here.
Your affectionate father,
I suppose you will observe my writing is first rate but you must excuse it. Be sure that you write what you think is best for Benjm to [do?]. It is high time he was preparing for his future support. He is a head taller than you.
Farmer’s Gazette, March 20, 1835
For Sale at Auction
WILL BE SOLD
At my house in Oakham, on SATURDAY,
the 28th inst.
One horse – one pair 4 years old Oxen –
five cows – five Heifers, three years old,
with calf – two Yearlings – one double Plea-
sure Wagon and Harness – Sleighs – Ploughs
-- Framing Tools – Household Furniture,
&c. Sale to commence at 9 o’clock, A. M.
Conditions made known at time and place.
Several Swine. SKELTON FELTON
Oakham, March 13, 1835.
Felton, Amory, grocer, cor. Ferry & Fourth, h 130 Third
This certifies that Miss Jane Felton of Brookfield possesses a good moral character & is qualified to instruct children in the elementary branches of learning usually taught in common schools.
By order of committee
Felton, Amory, grocer, cor. Fourth & Ferry, h 130 Fourth
Felton, Benjamin, clerk, boards 130 Fourth
[addressed to Miss Alma Felton, Vernon, Vt., To the care of Mr. Asa B. Clarke.
Postmarked in Troy, N. Y. on Sept 8]
I received your letter some time since but I have not felt like answering it until now. Indeed, I have not written but one letter this summer and that was one to Jane today. I have nothing to write that will be interesting to you. I am engaged in school and shall probably be until winter and perhaps through the winter. I have a pleasant school but it is in an unpleasant place. The society is not good. It is in Troy near Greenbush about two miles from Amory. I have two dollars a week besides my board which is pretty good wages these hard times at any rate. I try to make myself contented as possible.
Amory has gone after his wife and child [William] today. They have been in the country all summer on account of the child's health. Ben has got to be a dashing dandy, I tell you. He has got a pair of striped pantaloons and a cane which he uses on Sunday, being confined in the store other days. I can't begin to get near him. He has not called to see me since I have been here. Such getting up stairs. I am very glad Sarah was so willing to give me up but I should have come if she had said so, as it was. I want a letter from some of you as soon as you have any news to write. I should like to know where they think of going. As I was always giving them advice when I was with them I shall just take the liberty now. Think of the old adage, Viz., "a rolling stone gathers no moss."
If the times ever grow better I presume it will be a good place for the sale shoemakers here [sic?] That is, if you can set up the business it is a good place for a custom workman now. But times are dull here now, I suppose. Folks say so. At least my business is as good as it ever was. There is no danger but what there will always be children enough, and as long as there is I shall have employ.
Benjamin is very busy through the week and I suppose he don't feel like writing on Sunday is the reason he has not written. There is thirty boarders where I board that work in a papermill here. Tom, Dick, and Harry and I am not retired enough to write much but I will endeavor to write oftener than I have if I can have an answer once in a while. Give my love to Asa and Sarah Simeon and be sure and write before long. I suppose that Amory and Benjm would send their love if they knew I was writing. Good bye from your
Felton, Amory, grocer, 157 Fourth, h 130 Third
Felton, Skilton [sic], clerk, 157 Fourth, h 130 Third
Felton, Benjamin, clerk, cor. elbow & Seventh
[letter from Jane Felton addressed to Miss Alma Felton, Barre, Mass.
postmarked Troy, N. Y., June 26]
I suppose you have given up all hopes of ever hearing from us but do not be discouraged, you shall have a letter as quick as I can possibly write one and send it. Well I will tell you in the first place where I am, and then proceed in regular order. I am in a school of nearly 60 scholars and the most backward set I ever saw. Lucinda is in the same school she was last year and I expect will stay there another year. We both have two dollars and board. Benjamin has the care of a grocery and Father is with Amory.
You said in your letter that you did not make very great wages and if you do not you had better come here soon. Try and learn to cut vests and pantaloons before you come and you will have more work than you can do here. You can visit along till you get to Northampton and then take the stage. I wish you would set my handbox into yours and fill them both full and bring them. Mother left a pair of white cotton stockings among the things and she wants you to bring them. If you want anything new wait till you get here you will get it so much cheaper. You can get very nice calico for 12 1/2 cnts a yard. I think you could get shoes cheaper there than you can here. You cannot get a good pair here for less than 1.50 cnts. We all think you had better come as soon as you can conveniently. Mother thinks you had better wait till after "dog days." It is so warm here now that if we drink any cold water it will boil away in our mouths before we can possibly swallow it. I don't know what it will be in dog days.
When you come every time you get into the stage look to see if your baggage is on board. There is no danger of losing it. Mother does her work alone. She is better than she was when she got here but her health is not very good now. Amory thinks you had better come. You wrote to have Benjamin come after you but he cannot leave his business to go. If you go to Amherst tell Selina that schools are not so plenty here as I thought they were. I did not get one till I had been here 3 months but as soon as I hear of one I will write to her. They are making great preparations for the 4th of July.
Simeon has been to Vernon [Vt.] this Spring. He says Sarah's baby [Jane] grows handsome. Maria is going to stay with her this summer. If I don't leave off soon I cannot send it tonight. We all join in sending love to all that may take the trouble to inquire after us. I must now bid you good bye and go and call the boys in for they have been out 10 minutes now.
Your Affectionate Sister
P. S. Whoever brings you from Albany to Troy, tell them to bring you to No. 130 3d Street and they will bring you to our door. See that your baggage is put on at Albany.
Good Bye again
Felton, Amory, grocer, 157 Fourth, h 130 Third
Felton, Skelton, mulberry cultivator, h 130 Third
Felton, Miss, teacher, boards 130 Third
We the subscribers, inspectors of common schools for the town of Greenbush in the county of Resselaer [sic] - Do Certify -- that at a meeting of the inspectors called for that purpose, we have examined Miss Jane Felton, and do believe that she is well qualified in respect to moral character, learning and ability to instruct a common school in this town for one year from the date hereof --
Given under our hands at Wynants Kile, this 23d day of October 1839.
Charles S. Wise} Inspectors of
Columbus Sharpe} Common
H. Frazer} Schools
Felton, Amory, grocer, 157, h 146 Fourth
Felton, Skelton, mulberry cultivator, h 130 Third
Felton, Miss, teacher, boards 130 Third
[addressed on outside of letter, which had been folded into an envelope]
Skelton Felton Esq. Troy N Y
Dear Parents Brothers & Sisters
I suppose I must write now at any rate to let you know that Sarah has got a boy a fortnight old. She has been teasing me to write ever since it was born. She is very smart indeed. We have a first rate woman for a nurse and we are all well and that is about all the news I have to write.
We wish you to answer this just as soon as you get it and let us know how Maria is. Tell her that Sarah wants to have her get well enough to come here as soon as the ways get settled in the Spring. There can be no objections whatever to her coming if she is well enough. I shall come out there myself to come back with her. It will do her good to come and take a change of air.
Well I suppose I must write a few lines to Jane just to let her know how deeply I can sympathize with her for the loss of appetite. It is now almost an hour since I have put a mouthful of anything into my mouth and although I am faint for the want of nourishment I shall be obliged to wait half an hour longer before supper will be ready. You wrote that you weighed only 130 lbs. Now only think of me: I weight only 122. I declare I am so far gone that my ankles almost refuse to carry me about and indeed they did give way last night just as I had got out of the shop. I had taken but a few steps when down I went, flat as a shingle. But no one would have known it had it not happened when I was just opposite a crockery store. It made such a clattering among the crockery that all the people in the store came to see what had happened. But the merchant said that he was thankful I was not a heavy person, for if I had been all the crockery in his store would have been dashed to pieces. Well, enough of this. Sarah & Asa send their love to all. Sarah says she is ready to have Lucinda come and see her now. Tell her to come while the sleighing is good. You wrote that Amory's health was very poor. Let us know how he is when you write. Tell William that Jane has not forgotten him yet. Sarah says tell Nancy to keep a stiff upper lip and a high toe nail. I believe I have written about all I can think. Give my love to Miller. Tell Ben to write and Henry too.
Well I declare. I had almost finished my letter without saying a word to Father or Mother. Well tell them not to worry about me any more than they can help for I presume I shall begin to recruit as soon as the Spring opens. Sarah is going to send a lock of the baby's hair to Mother. She is going to call him Herbert Felton unless you send a better one. Answer this [now?].
This from your Alma
Felton, Amory, patent pumps, h 146 Fourth
Felton, Skelton, h 151 Fourth
Felton, Miss Jane, teacher, boards 151 Fourth
Miller, Charles H. & Co., iron railings, mechanic
Miller, Charles H., iron railings, h 151 Fourth
Jane Felton, 20, died October 27, 1841.
Felton, Amory, grocer, 82 Congress, h 146 Fourth
Felton, Skelton, boards 146 Fourth
Miller, Charles H., grocer, corner Ferry & Fourth, h 155 Third
Died on the 27th instant, of consumption, Alma, daughter of Skelton Felton, aged 24 years.
Funeral this morning at 10 o'clock from 146 Fourth St.
Felton, Amory, grocer, 82 Congress, h 95 Sixth
Felton, Skelton, grocer, 93 Congress, h 95 Sixth
Lucinda (Mrs. Skelton) Felton, 65, died May 1 of consumption. Funeral May 2 at 2 p. m.
Amory Felton, a well-known and respected citizen, who has been ill for some time, died this morning. Mr. Felton came here from Massachusetts, and was at first engaged as a teacher. Subsequently he embarked in the grocery business, and amassed a competence. He will be missed by all who knew him.
Amory Felton, whose serious illness we have heretofore announced, died yesterday, of paralysis of the stomach. He is an old resident of Troy, and was for many years a well known and respected merchant and citizen. His death was quite sudden.
Amory Felton - We were mistaken in stating that Mr. Felton "died after a long illness." It was a short but severe one. He was taken ill on Saturday last and died at 9 A. M. on Thursday. He leaves a family and a large circle of relatives and friends to mourn his loss. This will be sad intelligence to his son Charles, who is now at Vicksburg. He is attached to the Logan battery, and was there during the whole siege. Mr. Felton was always kind and ready to assist all, and will be missed by those who often sought his counsel and advice. His funeral will take place Sunday at 1 o'clock, from his late residence No. 120 Second Street.
[From the context, it is clear that this letter was written to Lucinda Felton by her youngest brother, Henry, upon Amory's death. The letter is written from New York City and is undated.]
My dear Sister,
I have been going to write you for some time. I was in hopes of being able to come up before this but we have been so busy that if I came up I should have to do so on Saturday night and back Sunday night. So I thought I would defer it till I could come and stay two or three days. About the holidays, I think I will be able to do so.
Anna has made quite a stay in Troy. I think it is about time for her to think of coming home. I feel lonely without her and Harry. [Anna is probably Henry's wife, Sarah E. Stiles, and Harry is probably their son, Henry Edwin.] Anna will go to Sharon and probably will have to go to Albany to get there. If so, I wish you would have Charley or Felton [Lucinda’s sons] go then to Albany with her. She will pay their fare down & back. By no means let her go alone. I should be very much worried if I knew she was going alone, for Albany is a loafers' hole. I presume you see & your money all right [sic]. I am sorry I could not come up while Anna is there.
I was up to see Lydia a few days ago. She has got a splendid place. She sent her love to you. Harry is very well indeed and a splendid place for him. How are you getting long. Is Charles pretty well? Who does Nancy [Amory's widow] live with? I wish you would write me and tell me all the news.
How was Amory's affairs settled? I can hardly realize that he is dead. We are the only two left out of all our family. The youngest and the oldest. Well, I must close for it makes me feel sad to think of these things. So good bye. Give my love to all.
Your affectionate Bro