Old Time Letters

1895

AN EPISTLE WRITTEN NEARLY ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

The Reverential Manner In Which a Young Girl of That Period Addressed Her Father — Proper Way For a Lover to Ask His Sweetheart to Elope With Him.

If the prim Puritan maiden of a century ago did not startle masculinity by wearing bloomers on the public highway, or pompously presiding at political mass meetings, or — horrible to relate — smoking perfumed cigarettes on the sly, she must have been a deucedly charming girl withal. A typical gentlewoman, she commands, irresistibly, more than ardent admiration.

If character can be portrayed in letter writing — and no one doubts the fact — an epistolary message written nearly a century ago by a devoted young Bostonian maiden to her much beloved papa in Philadelphia will afford an intensely interesting study of commencement de siecle womanhood, as it were.

To be sure, the dear young girl who penned the loving message decades and decades ago never dreamed that her letter would be published at the dawn of the twentieth century in a Chicago newspaper and read by the eyes of modern woman, so called. For a fact Chicago was not on the map in those days, and woman — lovely woman — had not been modernized. To peer into this primitive maiden's private affairs really seems a sacrilege. The epistle is, however, so essentially unique, so different from the flippant style of correspondence today and withal so suggestive of the excessive formality and great reverence accorded parents by children in the proverbial good old times that its perusal may be pardonable. In a word, it is the embodiment of filial affection. It would doubtless surprise the average indulgent papa of today, who is quite used to being told a few things occasionally by his "advanced,” all wise daughters.

The fair writer was evidently a young woman of exceptional culture in those early days. Of course she must have been, or did she not reside in the Hub City and eat baked beans? In a peculiarly artistic and legible handwriting the remarkable letter is thus addressed: "Rev. John Murray, to the care of Colonel John Connelly, Philadelphia."

There is the customary heading — "Boston, Feb. 13, 1804" — but the usual salutation of "My Dear Father" is omitted. After this interesting fashion Miss Julia Marcia Murray makes reparation for a supposed slight to her paternal ancestor: "You are astonished, my dear papa, at not receiving an answer to your letter, and I, my dear sir, am equally astonished that my answer written as early as the 8th of January has not yet reached you.

"Yes, indeed, you are entitled to my utmost gratitude, my utmost affection, to my duty, and my veneration, and I should have considered myself inexcusable if I had delayed a day to acknowledge a letter which gave me such heartfelt pleasure. If you have received my letter, you will find in it expressions of the warmest gratitude. It will always, my dear father, make me unhappy to know that you are so, and particularly if I have any reason to suppose myself, even unintentionally, the cause of it. You ought not to be kept in suspense, and I do indeed, my dear papa, consider it a prime duty to attend to you, and I have given a circumstantial account of the school exhibition and other particulars. And now, my dear sir, indulging the hope that I have rendered you easy on the subject of my not writing to you, I will go on to a part of your letter over which I shed many, very many, tears.

"Oh, my father, my heart is indeed filled with tender affection for my dear, my excellent parent, and if my heart be an affectionate feeling heart how could you expect that I should read the following very affecting line in your letter without its being torn: 'Sweet soul, you will not have your parents long?' When I came to read this, I could no longer restrain my tears, so covering my face with my handkerchief I audibly sobbed. Can I endure the thought that those dear, indulgent parents must ascend to the bosom of their God before me? Would to heaven I could continue here as long as I could be useful to them and then wing my flight to the regions of the blessed, where I might prepare garlands of never fading roses to crown them with, but as this is a felicity too great for human beings to attain I must content myself with the lot of mortality and meekly bow my head in pious resignation.

"And now, my dear papa, hoping that you will acquit me of either neglect or inattention to the best of fathers, I repeat again and again that I am your ever affectionate and dutiful daughter,

"JULIA MARCIA MURRAY.

"We have got our buckwheat meal. Mr. Jones and Cousin Mary Allen desire their best regards. J. M. M."

A writer on etiquette of those days tells amorous youths how to write "fetching" billet doux to their ladyloves. Clandestine marriages must have been as popular in the long ago as they are today. At any rate, the writer gives an ideal letter from "a young gentleman, who is in expectation of an estate from his penurious uncle, to a young lady of small fortune, whom he desires to elope with him to New England." After this fashion was the anxious lover instructed in this interesting branch of lovemaking:

"MY DEAR MARIA — My uncle's laying his injunctions upon me not to see you more has only served to add fuel to my passion. I cannot live without you, and if you persist in refusing to comply I am miserable forever. I pay no regard to his threatening when put in competition with the love I have for you. Don't be afraid of poverty. If he should continue inexorable, I have still education sufficient to procure a genteel employment in one of the public offices, where I may rise to preferment. Therefore, if ever you loved me, let me beg that you will not make me any longer unhappy. Let me entreat you by all that's dear that you will comply with my request and meet me at 6 Sunday evening at the back door of the garden, where a chaise and four will be ready. I will fly on the wings of love to meet my charmer and be happy in her embraces forever. I am your dear lover." — Chicago Tribune.

When a Man Marries He Marries Her Family

1915

Is He Supposed to Espouse Entire Family?

"Does a man marry his wife's family?" He claims he doesn't. But a prominent society woman declared not long ago that he does, no matter what he thinks about it, and more recently a prominent college professor made the same statement.

Looking around among one's acquaintances for evidence, it is a pretty general fact that the wife's family is more in evidence than the husband's. One hears more of the wife's kin, and the children seem to be better acquainted with relatives on the maternal side.

When mother's relatives come a-visiting they are made much of and given the run of the house. If any of father's relatives have the temerity to invite themselves for an extended visit there is a chill in the home atmosphere and nobody acts natural — least of all father, who is made to feel that he is imposing upon the good nature of his overworked spouse.

The wife's relatives feel that it is not only their right but their bounden duty to butt in, no matter what the circumstances. And usually the butt-in is accepted meekly and endured more or less amiably by the entire family. Any husband who is a gentleman will do his kicking away from home, or, if he cannot contain himself at the moment, go down and poke the furnace and commune with the cat.

And yet, on the whole, the wife's relatives seldom do the amount of damage that a husband's relatives can do, once they determine to make themselves felt.

When a husband's mother decides that his children are not being brought up right, or that his wife is extravagant or a poor housekeeper, etc., and that her interference is necessary, real trouble starts, not only for the man's wife but even more so for the man himself. His mother-in-law would never dare to attempt what his own mother will do to him.

The wife may have a ne'er-do-well brother who occasionally comes and camps upon her hospitality. But if the husband has such a brother, nine times in ten the brother has married and expects his more prosperous relatives to support a wife and numerous progeny.

As for fathers-in-law on both sides — they don't count appreciably. By the time a man becomes a father-in-law he has been so well-trained into his proper sphere that he wisely refuses to mix in any kind of family affairs that do not concern his finances. Anyway, there is usually a chord of sympathetic understanding between a man and his father-in-law, while every wife knows the wiles that will bind her father-in-law to her for ever and aye. — Philadelphia Bulletin.

Gypsy Girl Bride Held for Ransom

1920

Father Gives Her Up When Hubby Pays $500

This is Romany Custom, Explains Parent

NEW YORK, N.Y. — The kidnapping of Mrs. Lena Stevens from her home in Cleveland by her father, who held her from her young husband for $500 ransom, has been explained. Instead of finding a villainous parent, Newark detectives learned of a gypsy custom which made the "ransom" legitimate.

George Stevens married Lena Judson, a gypsy, about a year ago. They hit the gypsy trail by automobile, slept outdoors, cooked their meals in the fields and enjoyed a prolonged honeymoon.

Father Starts on Their Trail

Through a mysterious channel Ephraim Judson, the father of the bride, heard that his son-in-law was mistreating his daughter. So he set out to find the couple. When he found them he discovered that the reports were false and had been spread by a rival for the girl's hand.

Judson then demanded $500. He said he had spent this amount of money in ascertaining that his son-in-law was the right kind of husband. Stevens promised to pay, and the couple returned to their Cleveland home.

But the money was not forthcoming, and a week or two ago Mrs. Stevens disappeared. The husband told the police, and they decided it was a case of kidnapping when he showed a letter asking $500 for the return of his wife. Stevens searched and finally found her at her father's home in this city.

Both Wait for $500

Judson explained the circumstances of the "kidnapping," and the son-in-law wired his father in Cleveland to send him $500, so he could get his bride.

The police found the young husband living with the gypsies in a small store in Newark, New Jersey. He explained that his father-in-law, by gypsy custom, was entitled to the $500.

So Stevens is in Newark, hoping his father will send him the $500, while Mrs. Stevens is in New York, hoping her father gets the $500. And husband and wife are hoping to be reunited soon.

Bridegroom of 13 Spanked by Dad

March 1914

KINGSTON, Ontario. — "Well, father, permit me to introduce my bride," said Eugene Lovelace, a romantic youth of thirteen, as he presented a blushing eighteen-year-old girl, who was Miss Laura Richardson.

"Your what?" gasped the astonished parent, as he looked from one to the other.

"My bride, pop. We've come for the paternal blessing."

The bridegroom has a hazy recollection of what followed. He has a distinct remembrance of father's No. 9 shoe, still containing father's foot connecting with remarkable force somewhere amidships. He remembers getting a fleeting glimpse of a big flat hand coming in his general direction. He is in too much pain to try to recollect other incidents.

The bridegroom does not look any older than his age, and at the time of his decision to embark upon the gale-swept seas of matrimony he purchased with the bulk of his available funds the first pair of long trousers he had ever worn.

Mrs. Lovelace looks and acts much younger than most young women of eighteen do, and was won quickly by the romantic Eugene when he decided to settle down in a home of his own.

Son Accuses Father of Eloping with Wife

1914

La Crosse, Wis., Jan. 2. — That Albert Rockwell, Nelson, Wis., eloped with his young daughter-in-law, deserting his own wife, is the assertion of his son, Bert Rockwell, who caused his arrest.

Rockwell was brought back from Spirit Lake, Idaho. Arraigned in the county court on a statutory charge he pleaded not guilty and was held to the circuit court for trial. His wife and son testified against him. The eloping father was traced to Idaho by a post card sent to Wisconsin relatives by his son's wife.

The son asserts that a year ago he decided to move to Nelson, Wis., from Minnesota. He went ahead to prepare the home, his father offering to help his young wife with the moving.

Young Rockwell telegraphed his wife and little girl to "come." They did not, neither did they answer. Then Rockwell received word from his mother that his father, wife and child had disappeared with $8,000 the elder Rockwells had saved.

Mrs. Rockwell, wife of the son, was not brought back from Idaho, her husband saying all he is after is revenge upon the father for breaking up two homes.

Custer's Father and The Horse Presented to Him

1878

Mrs. Custer has a room at Lansing full of relics of her late husband. His pet, a Scotch hound — a great creature into whose eyes he used to look and say to his wife that no one could doubt that animals had souls — is in possession of a Cleveland lady, but the other animal, who traveled with him always by flood and field, sometimes across the saddle and sometimes put into a box and forwarded from station to station, is in his father's possession, as is also the horse which he rode up to the time of his death and which carried him to the very scene of slaughter.

The horse was purchased by some of Custer's brother officers and presented to Mrs. Custer, who gave it to her husband's aged father. The elder Custer is a feeble old man with snow-white hair, but not a day passes but that he mounts his "Artie's" steed — (Custer's middle name was Armstrong, abbreviated into "Artie") and takes a gallop along the road.

He talks of his dead son continually: "All my boys were good boys to me, but you know 'Artie' was my baby," he will say piteously. A great friend of Mrs. Custer, who brought her late husband's aged father from his Western home to West Point, to attend the burial, saw a pathetic little sight that will show how much the poor old man — old enough to have been Custer's grandfather — thinks of his dead hero.

One day she sought Mr. Custer in the barn, she found him in the stall devoted to his son's steed. He had come in from a ride, and having fed the animal, had gone to sleep with his arm thrown over the horse's neck, and his white, hair streaming over its glossy coat. There were tears, too, on his withered cheeks.

Gypsy Oracle Arranges Ego Transference for Brothers As One Dies

1901

CHANGED SOULS AT DEATH-BED

Queer Story Comes From Budapest

Evidence Bears Out the Fact that Something Queer Was Done But it is Believed by Experts that it Was a Hypnotic Trick

BUDAPEST, Dec. 28. — Vienna is not to be outdone by Paris in the production of remarkable canards.

Last week Paris correspondents recording the resurrecting of the dead in leading Paris hospitals. Today we have, perhaps, an even more absorbing story here.

How far it is true I cannot say, but the old philosophers averred the performance recorded here was a matter of no uncommon occurrence in ancient Egypt.

From a small village in the neighborhood of Budapest comes the following remarkable story:

"The horrors of the death-bed have apparently been added to in a new and unexpected manner and the question of the raising of the dead has assumed a new phase.

"Modern surgery has hitherto stopped at the limits of the physical being and has been content to consider the transfusion of blood as the greatest miracle which it was capable of accomplishing.

"An old and wealthy Czech named Rageli, had two sons, Rudolph and Jean, and the latter, who was his favorite, lay at the point of death. In his despair over the threatened loss of his favorite son Rageli had recourse to the assistance of a well known gypsy oracle and between these two a plot was arranged, it is alleged, which will possibly send both of the plotters to the gallows. Rageli betrayed to the oracle the fact that his distress would have been minimized if it had been his other son's life which was attacked by disease as his whole hope was based upon the assistance of his younger son Jean.

The oracle at once saw a way to enrich himself and lessen the distress of Rageli, and told him that if he desired to have such a plan consummated it would be possible for him at the critical moment when death was taking place to bring about a transference of egos so that the soul of his favorite son could be transferred to the healthy organism of his brother whilst the latter's would assume the place of the one which left the defunct body.

In order to accomplish this mysterious feat the gypsy claimed that the brother must absolutely be present.

"There was no difficulty whatever in bringing such an arrangement about, as Rudolph naturally desired to be at the bedside of his brother at such a solemn occasion as his death. The gypsy oracle was there, of course, for the avowed purpose of trying to prevent the fatal catastrophe.

"What weird scene actually transpired in that remarkable death chamber no earthly tongue has yet told and but for the strange stories which have floated out of the quiet village to the world beyond the gossiping of peasants and chatter of servants, nothing would ever have come to light, for those who made the guilty compact are naturally silent on the subject.

"Both of the brothers were married and it is to this fact that the really tangible evidence which has been found in support of the extraordinary story has been forthcoming.

"The brothers were both affectionate, devoted and faithful husbands, and among the many freaks attributed to Rudolph since his brother's death is that he has deserted his own wife and is now living with the widow of his brother, showing the most passionate devotion for one another.

"In reply to the expostulations of his wife Rudolph solemnly avers that although he retains the outward semblance of his former self he is in reality Jean.

"This story, which was at first received with ridicule by the villagers and servants, has been coupled with the fact that the old gypsy was around the Rageli house so much at the termination of the younger son's illness and his well founded reputation as a sorcerer has furnished the necessary link in this most sensational story.

"To add to the mystery of the situation the old father has shut himself up in his lonely mansion and refuses to see anybody. The servants aver that he is haunted by the spirit of Rudolph, which is trying by every means in its power to avenge the diabolical act that caused its disembodiment in favor of Jean.

"They aver and state themselves as being willing to bear witness to the fact and ready to face any court of law, that they have seen the apparition of Rudolph a dozen times in the old chateau since the death of Jean and that its countenance is so disfigured by hatred and despair that it resembles a fiend more than it does the only happy brother.

"Another rumor credits Jean with being so horrified by the strange tales which are afloat and which so peculiarly corroborate his own belief that he acts at times like a demented person.

"The rustic population are firm believers in the supernatural and it is difficult to find any of them who do not firmly believe the story.

"Their superstitions are so firmly rooted that they would not dare to molest the gypsy or the elder Rageli, although it is said that the police have investigated the case under the belief that the stories which have gone abroad were only a cover invented to hide a murder growing out of jealousy on the part of the brothers over the love of Jean's wife.

"They have abandoned the murder theory, however, and are at a loss to know how they can possibly take any action in the strange matter.

Psychologists say the changes of identity, or the transposition of egos are by no means impossible and that many well authenticated cases of such happenings have been recorded.

"These, however, have always been accidental so far as the record shows.

"Hindu fakirs, who claim to be able to withdraw their own egos from their bodies and traverse space at will say that one of the principal dangers with which they have to contend in these experiments is the possibility that some disembodied ego may attempt to establish itself in their own physical shells whilst they are absent from them.

"This is the supreme danger they apprehend when passing into what Western people call the trance state.

"There are many cases on record familiar to every newspaper reader in which living persons have been other than themselves for a number of years, afterward again assuming their own identity. It seems possible that these may have been due to the transference of egos.

"Some of the more thoughtful persons here who have devoted their attentions to the subject do not hesitate to aver their belief that Rudolph was hypnotized by the old magician at the time of his brother's death and made to believe that he was Jean so that the old magician could obtain money from his father.

"This would not, according to the hypnotic authorities, be at all an impossible feat and therefore there may be truth in the main part of the story to the effect that Rudolph and the father had been led into such a remarkable delusion." — VALERIE DELAMAR.

—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, December 29, 1901, page 16.