Gonzales Co. Texas
Sept. 21st 1868
Dear Sister
I have been indebted to you for a letter a long long time. I
have frequently though of writing but the lack of something that I
thought would be pleasing and interesting has always made me put it
of hopeing that a subject worth writing about would present its self.
I have now one not pleasant but mournfully grievous beyond my power
of discription. My faithful companion Ann is no more.
You are probably less surprised than I have been. I thought
I was destined to go first, being fifteen years older, much more enfeebled
from the large quantity of medicine that I had swallowed, and my frequent
attacks made many persons think that I would not live long.
She was attacted over a month ago with a chill followed as usual by
fever which continued to return withoug the chill, or if there was
any chills they were so slight that we could not tell when they were
on. An old sore over her eye that was a great trouble to her
twelve years ago, rose again and was aa painful as ever. it
swelled up and broke discharging some matter. we then hoped
all her trouble would soon be over, but in this we were sadly mistaken,
her head continued to ache almost constantly, and at times so excruciating
as to make her delirious, We sent for a Doctor who upon examining
her pronounced the case congestive, which is almost equivalent to
saying that the patient is dying, Our neighbors were very kind
done all that they could, but she died at one oclock monday night
the 8th Sept.
I am now the only one at the head of five children for my family.
they have but a poore prospect ahead of them. Frank’s chance
is not so bad as he is now eighten years old, tolerably stout and
will out weigh me. he is now my main dependence for work on
our little farm. some times a little sulky but in general a
very good boy. My daughter Bransonia is left in an awkward situation.
I am not able to send her off to a boarding school. She is now
loosing what little education she had, and very seldom sees a lady
and there is not girl in this neighborhood of her age. Curtis
is now getting largenough to work, will probably be able to plow a
gentle horse nex Spring. Bobby is small and of a much less manly
chracter than Curtis but at picking cotton and other light work does
his part pretty well. All of these children ought to be at school
but I have not got the money to pay the tuition, and during the spring
months the boys could not be spared from the field I am now living
a retired life, in an obscure place, not from choice, but from necesity.
I feel it very sensibly on acount of my children, they have but a
poor chance of education or good address When we arrived in Texas
I found things quite diferent from what I had expected. Keyes
was on a tract of land with but poor improvements, no Spring or well,
but a pond or lake of water that a decent dog would hardly condecend
to drink out of. Seven eights of the land not worth a fence,
and scarsely any timber fit to make rails out of. Added to this
Keyes was entirely out with the farming business and would not spend
a cent towards cultivating the land, he prefered relying exclusively
on the sheep for a living.
The price of wool being
down, and a disease called “the scab” being in the flock, I thought
the prospect looked bad. I had expended $400, in getting to
Texas, and had but little left, the more I learned about sheep the
less I liked the business, added to this they became sickly and commenced
dying so fast that I was anxious to dispose of my little interest
in the flock. I swaped them of, and have in excange 200 acres
of land, one horse, one mule and two cows and calves. I have
an undisputed titled to the land perfected in me, though I owe the
men that I got the tract from $126.00 payable next chrismass a year,
it is what is called post oak land, that is sandy soil, with scattering
runty post oaks not one in forty long enough to make even a Texas
rail which is only eight feet long. The improvements are one
very good log cabbin, a tolerable Kitchen with a little room between
it and the cabbin, a little smoke house and a never failing well of
water. Thirty or forty acres of the land has been in cultivation
ten or twelve years, some of it is the worse of wear, but there is
some of the tract never been cultivated of good soil. on this
tract I hope to make a living by diging it out of old mother earth,
a hard way I know, but I have no other means. The children are
becoming hardened to the ruff Texas life that they will probably have
to live. Little Keysey is now in good health, and frequently
sleeps soundly on the floor a shirt between his skin and the plank.
You probably have heard from Willis and Keyes since I have.
they had their sheep out west of San Antonio the last time I heared
over a month ago. Willis’ son Jossie is now living with a Mr.
Nations with in less than a half mile of us. Jossie and his
father have not fallen out, but have a kind of understanding that
Jossie might try his hand at making his living seperated from parental
influances. Jossie is a good lively tall and slender Fawcett.
I can see something of the Fawcett about him, but he is like the Stablers
in hight.
I am ashamed of the above
scratch, and would transcribe it but probably I would not better it
much as I write so little that I am loosing in penmanship considerable
Please let me hear from
Missouri. The children, Jossie, and I are all well.
Affectionately
E. R. Fawcett
[crosswise in the margins:]
Give my
love to all our kin in Missouri. What a pleasure it would be
to see you all once more. May be I had beeter make much of Jossie
as it may be my lot not to see much more of the Fawcetts during my
Short remnant of life
All of us have had a tuch
of the chills and are now all clear of them.
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