March 15
There seems to be every prospect of a peaceful arrangement of the difficulties between the North & the South. The Forts will be given up, and we will go on as usual. I have been reading some old letters for the last week, and they interest me so very much, they are from my Grandmother Manigault to my Mother, and there are also letters from some of her Sisters to her, they commence in 1807, about which time my Mother was married, and end in 1822 in which year, the 22 of September, she died, being crushed in the fall of the house they lived in, on Sulivan’s Island, during the storm of that year. It is the history of a whole family, contained in these letters, and the lesson, the shortness of life. These letters give an insight into the domestic life of very accomplished people, and the charm which elegant tastes surround life with, are very perceptible. My Grandmother’s style is very fine, so simple, & so clever, & she describes the events daily passing around her, in a fascinating manner. My Grandfather lived in South Carolina and determined to move to Philadelphia where he died soon after the purchase of an estate in the country, of Apaplexy , brought on by anxiety of mind, & worry. In 1815 Emma died of consumption, in 1817 Caroline died, in 1818 Charlotte died, the tome of these letters, the gradual change from full happiness to the sad desolation of being nearly alone, just Ella & I with her, is very painful, the effort to be cheerful, the yearning for Mama’s society. She died 2 years after. It was not usual then for people to express themselves on religious subjects as they do now, and therefore it is not proper to judge of my Grandmother’s feelings on this subject by what she does not say.—
In the first place, her husband, who was a most devoted one, died when they had been married 22 years. My Mother died when she had been married 16 years. This March we have been married 31 years, is this not a cause for thankfulness. Here is a man cultivated, very much in love with his old wife of 51 years and, although not in robust health, getting on, more amiable than he was, more easy in his means and my children, such as ought to satisfy any woman,—but I wish they, the elder ones, could be settled, married well, it is for the happiness of a woman & for that of a man. I could wish that Elizabeth was well married and Berkley & Lewis; William might wait a little longer but if anyone very desirable should offer I would not object. I cannot alter this, and I think it better so, than married in an unsuitable way.—
Elizabeth went to pay a visit to Mrs Vanderhorst, we expect them back to day.—
The pledge Lewis gave his Father the last Spring in March he faithfully kept, and when it expired, he said he would not take another until he found it necessary.—He seems so unsettled, so restless, I am truly sorry for him, and I pray for him.—