1861: William H. Gray to Friend Bettie

The following two letters were signed by “W. H. Gray.” I cannot confirm his identity. It may have been William Henry Gray (b. 1840), the son of William Gray (b. 1809-Aft860)—a grocer in Richmond, Henrico county, Virginia. The letter suggests that the author was a young man employed as a merchant in Richmond and that he was probably enrolled in the local militia. He makes no mention of parents or close family relatives that I could discern, suggesting that he may not have been native to Richmond. The following passage in particular suggests his solitary life: “I have concluded to stay here, let what come may. My life is all I have to fight for. I can do that as well here as elsewhere. I shall make no advance. I want to kill no one. I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m not exasperated. When encroachments are made upon me, that which I conceive to be the most effectual in my defense will be resorted to without reserve, the invading party being responsible for the result.”

Letter 1

Richmond, [Virginia]
April 22, 1861

My dear Virginia friend Bettie,

“The present only is ours.” This sentence—very forcible indeed at this time operating upon my mind, causes me to thus occupy my pen in transcribing thoughts which I have not otherwise succeeded in communicating.

I wrote you a letter the other day but had no opportunity to send it. I think it happened very well. Things seemed very squally at that time and there were many strong indications that I would be very suddenly necessitated to absent myself or receive some very severe treatments. The springing up, however, and interposition (of what I had nearly come to the conclusion I did not have) after considerable remonstrances abandoned the plot in a measure, and prevented its execution. I was not the least frightened because I’m always on the score to vindicate my cause; but, I thought it would probably be better to quietly move off than suffer such outraged indignities.

I desired to see you and wrote to the effect that I might meet you at home yesterday. I became somewhat reconciled, and am very glad I did not have opportunity to forward my message. Would liked very much to seen you but it would been wrong to have asked you to leave your company which you were enjoying very much. I’m very anxious to do what is right. I’m very willing to concede to just and satisfactory measures. But, the earth shall drink the last drop of my blood, and that of every man South or North before I will be frightened and forced into measures which I conceive to be a violation of my political freedom.

“A clear conscience is health to the soul.” Mine is very faithful and true to me. God forbid it should be anything else. I have concluded to stay here, let what come may. My life is all I have to fight for. I can do that as well here as elsewhere. I shall make no advance. I want to kill no one. I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m not exasperated. When encroachments are made upon me, that which I conceive to be the most effectual in my defense will be resorted to without reserve, the invading party being responsible for the result.

I think now, however, that all will be well. For reasons which I could not here take time to give, I think the war will not be so disastrous as many anticipate. We will in all probability have engagements , but I think not many and not so terrible. Washington, I have no doubt, will soon fall into the hands of the South. The North is divided, and thousands deplore such a bloody conflict. The war is unjust—uncalled for, and such a war can’t prosper. It will subside for a time at least.

I will visit you Saturday evening next myself. If convenient, will go to Mr. Huffman’s. I will not disappoint this time. If I do, I will be responsible for it. I’m not responsible for the other disappointments. I was too forgetful that these Virginians do not always fulfill engagements. His expense was a good one. I waited for him Sunday morning until it was too late to come myself. Had I come, it would not have sufficed. You contemplated one much more agreeable. Am exceedingly sorry that engagements have broken on my account.

I don’t conceive what reason you have for thinking that I don’t value an engagement with you. Never to my knowledge have I broken one with you until Saturday a week ago. And had it been my own individual obligation, I should have passed through the siege of Sebastopol to its redemption.

I acknowledge that I would not break an engagement for you or anybody else at will, but I will arrange so that all can be fulfilled. When I obligate myself, I’m apt to see how it is to be met and only unforeseen circumstances prevent it. I don’t mean any reference in the above—not one. But, I know you expect me to resist any intimation of my not valuing an engagement with you, when I think you have abundant reason to know that it will take a much longer time to fathom my love for you than yours for me. I will make a ocular demonstration to you the next time we meet.

Am sorry I could not get out to court Miss Mollie a little. We might have come to terms. Among all the strange things that happen in the world, that might have been one. Suppose, however, I will have to content myself until the war is over. Perhaps the demands will be greater then. I may get a good bargain when there is no opposition. [ ] lives will be so fashionable, perhaps I will then commit the savage deed upon you.

Saw Miss Emma H. last Sunday. She is very pretty and lively. Would be well pleased to have you visit her. I have but one objection to Miss Emma—that is—she won’t have me.

You will enjoy a visit there now. We can go there Sunday, I think. I can spend Monday and Tuesday with you. If you come to town from Mr. Courtney’s, don’t forget your obligation. Walker is going to give me hers. Put on those pretty curls if they are becoming. I believe if I had had your Ambrotype last week, I should have gave away. Was bound not to go without it. I must stop now and go to the market to see if there is any chance to send this to you. Very sincerely yours, — W. H. G.


Letter 2

Richmond [Virginia]
June 12th 1861

My Jewel,

I have been to the market this morning for the purpose getting Ed to call up for this letter thinking I could find time to prepare it. I don’t find him there. I will write now fearing I will not have more time.

Was sorry I could not respond to your letter of Saturday [8 June 1861]. I received your note borne by Mrs. Walls. Am much obliged to you for being so liberal in excusing me. Have not seen Mrs. Walls since she returned. Immediately she came to town. She was hurried off up to Mrs. Parker’s to see Esquire (Mr. Sullivan, properly). News came that he had been seriously hurt on parade Saturday evening. He was thrown from a piece of artillery and hurt considerable. He is recovering speedily.

He expected to have come out to see you on Sunday. He hoped that he would not meet such company as he met before and wished in very strong terms that I could not get there. God governs all things! I’m very sorry he did not get out to see you. I could have come on the train Sunday morning but restrained myself in consequence of his intentions to visit and his hope that I would not be present. I know he can’t enjoy himself where I am.

I expected to work some on Sunday. My customers wanted me to very much. I made arrangements to do it. Went to the shop Sunday morning and put on my black clothes to go to work. I couldn’t work a stroke. I concluded that since I had lived so long without working on the Sabbath day, it was too late to begin now for any reason. I left it. When I went back Monday morning, I found the work all done!

I believe I’m doing very well. Have to work hard. I had all my things fixed to go to Manassas Junction this morning but it turned out not necessary that I should go.

Suppose you had a happy time Saturday evening and Sunday. Expect you heard all the old tales and a good many new ones. Suppose you will tell me. Hope I will be able to come out Saturday to hear them. Mrs. Walls will probably be home today and I’ll get one or two which will last until I see you. Tell Pet that that is not all, I charged “myself the same.” But we’ll square the account when I come out.

Think you took very crooked way to get home from Mr. Huffman’s. Mrs. Jennings went to see Mr. Vaughan, did she? Am glad to hear she is in good spirits. It would be a good time now for me to cut a few out while he is away. Reckon he would be willing to make an even trade with me. Guess would trade.

If you had kept your face straight, you need not have told Emma that was your picture. She was not at all certain of it. I expect Mrs. Walls is thoroughly posted now. She can make you tell her anything she wants to know. I’ll know how it is in about five minutes after I see her. I can see it in her eyes if it is in her mind.

Thank you for the postage you sent by her. Been round to see Walker several times lately. Have a great notion to quit going. They don’t act like they were acquainted with me. Think I’m about twenty-one. If no one wants to associate with me, I will associate with myself. I like that company very much. Like the man who talked to himself. He was asked by a friend why he did it. He replied that he liked to converse with a man of sense. Am going to be Monarch of a little empire myself which I trust will bring comforts without their aid.

Was at Quaker Church Sunday. Was very much entertained indeed. Heard elegant sermon. Gave me great encouragement in my exiled condition. Have good many things to tell you when I see you. Must stop and go to work now. My love to Pet and all, very truly yours, — W. H. Gray

I opened this to insert a line, then I will entrust it with Pet. Am sorry I can’t stay until your return. Would have come early yesterday but was engaged until dark. I have to go back in consequence of being pressed to work some this afternoon. I want to see you very much. Will come down soon as I can leave conveniently. My friend is here. Unfortunately he has met unpleasant company. I have looked for you all morning. Have concluded you would not get home until evening. Devotedly yours, — W. H. G.

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