Diary, 1837–1888

last time. We were engaged six months, he came down in the Spring; and on the 27th of April, 1837 we were married. I was 17 years old when he addressed me; and now 18, he 31.

We remained one day in town; set off on the Rail Road for Aiken; and there met Judge Earl [illegible] in which we continued our journey slowly. We were four delightful days on the road, so pleasant, I was sorry when we reached Greenville, my future home; he had engaged rooms at the Mansion house, where we have staid ever since. Our house is not finished building yet; but will in a few weeks; and we look forward with delight, to taking possession of it. Every day I go over to arrange it. Part of last summer Mamma spent here; and in the Fall I paid her a visit; I feel my separation from my family; and my heart sometimes yearns towards home. I write, and hear frequently. Absence strengthens my love for them.

I have now been married nine months. I have said nothing of my love for my husband. My love for him is inexpressible. When it first commenced, whether the night of our introduction, or when I became better acquainted with him, or when I became aware of his love for me; I do not know. I only know, I loved him when I engaged myself to him; more, when I married him, and still more, after being married to him

The romance of our love has not yet passed away, and never will, he last night told me he loved me passionately, enthusiastically, devotedly, that his love for me was a burning love, not one harsh word has dropped from his lips I only wish I was deserving of my husband of all the caresses and endearments he lavishes on me. He is the noblest being I have ever seen, I do not know one fault he has.

I have now brought up my Journal to the present period. I wil have of course omitted putting down various occurrences, I found it would take up too much time, and that if I recorded every thing; Time would be flying on, and I far behind, despairing of overtaking it.

10th

I have taken up my Journal this morning to write a few lines in it; I write with more pleasure than I did when I just commenced; and especially after have brought it up, actually to the present time.

Since I have been married; I have read a great deal; Staying in a boarding, allows you so much leisure, that if you did not spend it in reading, time would hang heavy upon your hands. I have read very little to myself Major Perry has read aloud, while I worked, we have read Ramsay's History of the United States; Boswell's life of Johnson; Lady Mary Wortley Montague's Letters; part of Herodotus; Plato on the Immortality of the Soul; Carey's circulating library; Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered; Milton

Paradise Lost; Regained; and the Mask of Comus. Camoen's Lusiad; some of Pope and Byron, Ernest Maltravers Pelham, the Disowned, some of Dante. We are now Plutarch's Lives. Some of them are very interesting, others are rather tedious, there are so many of them; it will be a long time before we get through with them. Last night we read of Alcibiades one of the most interesting of the Lives, he was an Athenian; remarkably handsome, and the favorite of Socrates. He was a great general, remarkably successful in his exploits, so much so, I hear when he failed; his countrymen thought it was his own fault; that he did not try his best or he certainly would have succeeded; he was licentious in his habits; the Athenians treated him ungratefully, and he was obliged to leave his coutnry; he went to Phrygia, and was there put to death; by order of Pharnabazus; who received orders from Lysander to that effort; his house was set on fire; but he managing to get out the barbarians dispersed; and not daring to approach him; stood at a distance, and pierced him with these darts. Thus fell Alcibiades, in the fortieth year of his age. Timandra his mistress; buried him in a town called Melipa. The Emperor Adrian caused his statue of Persian marble to be set up ^thereon; in memory of so great a man, and ordered a bull to be sacrificed to him annually.

There is but one lady boarding in this house, besides ourselves, M^rs Williams, her husband is in Georgia surveying lands for government, and she is passing

the winter here. I wish I could like her; it would be pleasant for us to be together; but I like her so little as a companion; I am with her as seldom as possible, I admire her less than I like her; her mind is shallow; her manners egotistic; her character superficial not at all inteligent; she has no deep feelings; I do not think she feels enthusiastic love for any one. She is the last person I would choose for wife, mother, sister, or friend. I have no dislike to her but not the least liking for her. I have been in the house with her for months; yet she has created in me not the least interest for her; I might be with her years, and not feel the least attachment for her; she is heartless; she does not improve on acquaintance; you like her better the first time you see her, than you ever do afterwards.

During the summer the house is crowded, so many strangers visit Greenville; but in winter the boarding houses are deserted. This winter has been so mild, fears are entertained that there will be no Ice to put away for next summer; but perhaps yet we have a cold spell; I dislike cold weather; but will be willing to endure it for the sake of the Ice; that luxury in warm weather.

Almost every evening for some time past we have baked apples; it is so pleasant after tea, to read and work for an hour or two, then draw near to the fire and enjoy our repast. There is now a row of apples in front of the fire; I expect Major Perry

over soon; and wish to give him a treat; he is busy planting out trees; and improving his lot; which he takes a great interest in.

Miss M^cBee comes to see me this morning; I like her pretty well, I do not yet feel sociable with any of the villagers; but hope I may in time.

Sunday 11^th

I have been prevented from going to church this morning; by the wind, which is blowing a gale I have gone through the services in the prayer book; and read one of Bradley's sermons, much superior to the one I would have heard from M^r Spalding; who I think an inferior preacher.

Teusday 13^th

I have just finished writing to Mamma; scolding her a little for not writing oftenner to me, at present Ann's sickness is an excuse; but when she has not that excuse; she does not write as often as she ought to.

Yesterday I spent at the house; making the Entry carpet; which is not yet finished; I have been prevented from going over to day by the rain; perhaps it as well to rest; for after working so hard; I feel fatigued; last night I could not even listen to Plutarch, and went to bed quite early; annoyed by the Tooth ache. When I awoke this morning I was free from pain; and hope to remain so for some time.

I asked my husband yesterday to give me a Rocking chair; he said: "when you present me with a little