Year: 1871

was spared the woe TO come, in seeing
the squaliod poverty of her children.


We are now my dear young lady, the
poorest people you ever saw. Our coun-
try desolated by war-all implements
taken and destroyed--our currency
ruined and bankrupt-without money
and without friends-our country seems
accursed. There is now no life or energy,
no enterprise, no change. A deathy
calmness and stiffness hangs upon all.
And then too, we have such unreasonable
crop years. We plant but we fail to
reap. must be brief, too long have |
claimed your attention already. Shall l
tell you why have written. A hope, a
faint hope (the drowning will catch at
straw that you can help me. | write to
beg las 1 approach the subject my heart
fails) that you will state my case to your
neighbors and take up a subscription for
me to educate my daughter with.


When you knew me | was in the zenith
of my glory, a proud and happy mother.
The best blood in Virginia flows in my
viens. l am the granddaughter of the
sister of Patrick Henry and am named
after her. My father and Gen. Joe John
son were first cousins. Now alas am
beggar. Something Of the spirit of
Shakespeare's proud beggar comes over
me here, where he makes her say, "A
beggar begs that never begged before
| have heard that you were married and
are perhaps n mother. To your feelings
then as q mother and to the mothers Of
Vermont l appeal. I would not beg for
myself, but for my fair and innocent child
| will. do so crave for her good
education. My own education was a
very incomplete one. married at six.
teen and had not, or rather did not give
myself time to graduate. The only road
open to woman for business in Virginia
is teaching. l wish to educate my
daughter and give her all the accomplish
ments necessary to fit her for teacher.
This without help it is impossible for me
to do. l live in a sparsely settled neigh
borhood. Sparsely settled when you knew
it, now more SO, for many have been
killed and died out and no more have
moved into it. There are no public schools
established as yet in the country. They
have them in towns and villages, and will
perhaps have them in the country here
after, but too late to benefit my daughter
She is now in her fourteenth year and has
never been to good school single day
l have carried her in English as far as
could, but as l said before l want to fit
her for teacher, so that she may make
her living easier than her poor mother
now does. I have worked out all day in
the field many day since l saw you
Please look at her face, Ito me the EN-.
bodiment of sweetness) and let that plead
for her. A thousand dollars would board
her at some thorough school, three years
and give her that great boon good and
finished education.


You are q comparative stranger and
your friends entirely so, but you are wo
men and as such, can feel for woman
so fallen, poor and miserable as |. Each
one in your town can easily spare tht
triae Of fifty cents, and so make up funt
in far away Vermont, to educate q Vir
ginia girl And she shall be called tn,
Vermont girl. Try and see what yol
can do for me, and will bless you witt
strong mothers heart. My daughtel
shall bless you with her fresh innocen
lips and our latest generation shall b,
taught to bless and pray for you. an
innocent and my family are innocent
(they fought when compelled. but tried tt
keep the strife of by casting Union votes
Of the blood that has been spilled between
North and South. Yet we are such suf
ferers. So miserably poor. In raggec
habiliments, and sorrowful tearstaineC
faces. For myself l do not grieve, bu
my daughter, oh l could plead with yol
on my knees with fervid eloquent tongue
for her. Men can rally and recover
such losses as l have experienced, bu
women never. Trade and commerce ar,
in measure cut off from our feeble sex
We fall and there we remain. Five long
bitter years l have struggled, and ye
lived on and on to know still deeper pov
erty. Many times in the last five year
have 1 eaten my last piece Of meat. my


last morsel of bread, and knew not
where the next was to come from.
have no clothes but am wearing this win
ter, one Of my husbands old coats to keeI
myself warm if possible. | have giveI
you no exaggerated picture of my situa
tion. My situation is SO deplorable tina
it cannot well be described. My negroes
have been very kind. Many ofthem ar,
still with me, and seem to feel as deep
ly for me as possible. They even lent
me clothes. l was always kind miss
tress when | owned them, and they hav,
remembered it. live entirely alone
with my daughter and the colored people
No other white person nearer than mile
| am not at all afraid. am too poor, il
is well known, to tempt robbers and thost
that are with me are tried and tru,
friends. Oh that this approaching Christ
mas may bc a joyful one. Tho first
have seen for nine years. Please writ,
to me by then and let me know if yor
have undertaken to get up subscription
for the holy cause have placed befor,
you, the education Of my fatherles'
daughter. Oh may God incline your
heart to sympathy and abundantly bles,
your efforts. don't know what inspired
me with the thought of applying to you
suppose it was my good angel. bor
rowed money and had mine and my
daughters pictures taken for this purpose
My picture bears traces of the sorrow
have seen. am still clad in widows
weeds and shall remain SO until the day
of my death. Your old friends, have
left the neighborhood. | have written
my paper up, yet | could write more.
close with "please help me-"


Truly yours Lucy.


SATURDAY Nov. 10th. Il can say
nothing in excuse for having written, and