04. Harry's Letters, March-May, 1865

New York March 12th / 65

Dear Nellie: --

I feel too "poor in spirit" to write to you as I should like to today. I have had a lump in my heart as big as a turnip ever since I said good bye to you; and it gets no smaller "very fast" as the time approaches for my going on board the departing steamer. How jolly and happy I should be if you were going with me. But you may be certain, that as poor Pat says in the song, "I'll not forget you darling dear, in the land I'm going to." And you know, you are to go with me to that

land, one of these days -- not far distant, -- I trust. The hope and longing for that time to come sustain and cheer me in my great grief at being obliged to put so many miles between you and me.

I am very fortunate in being largely acquainted among Californians and there is a large party of my intimate friends going on the steamer of tomorrow. This is very lucky, for a lonely voyage, among strangers would be almost unbearable under the circumstances.

Ordinarily, the steamers of this side connect with very elegant vessels in the Pacific -- but -- as is my usual ill fortune, something

has happened in the arrangements at San Francisco, and instead of the splendid "Golden City" or the "Constitution" or the "Sacramento," the old tub "St Louis" is to have the honor of returning me to the golden shores of El Dorado. The many disappointments which occur to me on my voyages, remind me of my many sins, in days by gone, and with becoming resignation I bow my head in meekness and contrition. I am also reminded that "there is a divinity which shapes our ends rough" &c.

How I wish that Norway was a port of entry and that the steamer "Costa Rica" was to begin her voyage from the front steps of Millet

Cottage with Lue crying good bye to you and me and mother and Aunt Harriet and Eliza and the Major and the rest blessing us thro' their tears and bidding us "God speed" as we were about starting on the voyage of life and hope together -- never more to be separated on Earth.

But I think I could willingly dispense with the Port of Entry and the steamer and even the touching farewell of loved ones if that "day of jubilo" had come. With you for my darling wife the measure of my contentment and happiness would be filled. Hail blessed day! May Heaven hasten and bless our union.

I love to write to you after this fashion. For I believe you trust my earnestness now; and to repeat these thoughts at even so great a distance is

like talking to you in my dreams -- as I often do.

I send you "the long long weary day" as I promised you I would. I hope you will think of me when you sing "But hope he he'd come once more And love me as before" -- and yet in view of the fact that the song is a wail over a dear one dead and gone, I may be excused from the charge of undue selfishness if I express the hope that you may not have occasion for a good long time to come to weep over my demise when from your "window's height" you "look out on the night."