My Darling Daughter-in-Law,
By now you will have heard that I have took ill. Many come up to my porch to see the contrary old lady finally getting her justice. Just last week I had to toss biled water on a few of them. Gave me a laugh and did feel some better for a piece. I count myself lucky to make it out to my ol rocker and take the air for a good spell. However, I do find the breath in me comes harder at night and believe my time to be nigh.
I write to you now dear one some advice as I can’t be assured of seeing your sweet face again.
As you know my “dear” son’s father was reported dead of fever soon after leaving with his regiment. That rank smelling excuse for a commander came by not too long ago to chaw a bit with me. He again recollected how that May of 1861 my husband took sick at the first camp they set to. Fearing a spread of disease, he was forced to set him up on some folks eager to help our loyal sons. The commander tells me again the queerness of it being just the one fella to up and die and having left those at home in a state of well being. That first-rate raskal’s eye gleamed with knowledge, but for now he ain’t told my secret.
I have ever regretted that my son took so much after his daddy and their people. The devil does hide behind all that charm. If I had knowed it sooner I believe I would have warned you off. I reckon the devilment comes too late to be seen or we both would have turned out differn. The truth of it is, even the war came too late for me else I would not be setting here about to tell you the thing I did.
I woke up one bleak winter day just knowing it was him or me. I was much wearied of the pain that would split my head as the great ignorant hand would strike it. The laudanum dulled my caring but not my pain. Misery was no longer welcome in my house. Even the good Lord must see a thing must be done. Fasting from gravy on my plate I spilled it generously over your father-in-law’s meat. He was happy enough to eat it night after night, too greedy to figure it the source of pains that gripped him of a night. I stopped for awhile, guilt giving me a gripping.
War news was spreading and the 45th Infantry from our county was formed up. They were set to head east towards Richmond. I thanked the sweet Lord and his blessed Mama that I would be waving goodbye to my torment. His last night he come in, liquor on his breath. He left me with a shut up eye that stayed swolled up for weeks after he left out. I made him a heaping plate of his favorite biscuits and gravy.
I know you will find in my words some of your own plight. This is my advice to you…take yourself to church, pray some. Love up on your girls, praise God you ain’t got no boys. Then go out on the porch and call up all the sorrow you have in your heart, weigh it out. Toss that grief to the wind. Go on in the house and make you all some supper. I have enclosed my recipe for gravy.
Your ever loving and not long for this world mother-in-law,
Phoebe Jane
It is true that my great-great grandmother was Phoebe Jane Ward, born Dec. 10, 1838 and died on Christmas day 1916. Her first husband Mr. Cox died of fever soon after heading off with his regiment. She later married my great-great grandfather Mr. Sheppard Lee Daniel, civil war veteran. The photo is the home of my great – grandfather Benjamin Ward Daniel, the son of Phoebe and Sheppard, Phoebe died in this home. I made the rest up.
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