Letter, Eliza Corry to Robert Corry

Saturday Night, Sept. 3, 1864

My dearest Husband,

I have hoped against hope for your coming, and now that you have gone on that abominable scout, I shall cease looking for you until the middle of next week. Mother has had two letters from Johnie since Roddy's arrival in North Ala. But not a line have I had from you, yet I heard today that Billy Goodloe had a letter for me, and I suppose by the time it makes the rounds, as my precious documents generally do, I will receive it.

Quarterly meeting began at our church today, and hopes are entertained that a revival may take place. I attended service this morning and heard a good sermon from our old friend Mr. White. I wish you were here to go with me for I am sure preaching would do me more good if you listened to the same sermon, and we could speak of them afterwards. I am afraid there will not be much good accomplished here. The people seem really hardened, the old as well as the young.

I saw Mr. Scruggs today. He looks badly. I know you have all had a tough time since you left us. However, Mr. S. says you have braved the hardships finely and kept you own good looks and gingly. I am fearful you will not think that I have for I am sunburnt quite brown attempting to dry fruit in this hot weather. I haven't a great deal dried, having so many other things to do in the meantime. I wished much for your help. It is such a social employment and we could have had many a cozy chat over a basket of peaches. I wrote you a short and hasty note last Saturday for Capt. Newsome to take. I wrote you that Mr. C. Goodloe had promised to try and get Bob Knox to make you some boots and I know you must be needing them. If so, and you ever do come down, you might call at Mr. G's (but don't stay long) and see if he has them. I promised to settle with Mr. Goodloe, so you need not bother about the pay. Tell him to pay that article back to you that I lent him the other day when he was here.

The little pets are all doing finely. Hallie has been chatting with me ever since I began writing. But now her little tongue has grown weary and she has fallen asleep on the floor at my feet. The little bird says tell Father she is a good girl, and hopes for his coming nearly as much as Mother does. Oh, dear Robert, it does seem so long since I saw you! It looks hard indeed that you should have to be gone so much now that I need you more than at all other times. I try to keep a cheerful heart and feel it won't last much longer, but, oh, dear husband, you know not the thought I sometimes have to contend with, but for my darling little ones and the precious thought that you are loving and caring for me above all other, I believe I would sink under to never be roused again. I hope, dear Robin, when you come, you will be able to stay longer than a few days. I know you must need rest and your horse, too. And then I will need you to comfort and cheer me so. Sometimes it seems almost like a dream that I am your wife. Little Mamie has learned to spell right well all for Father's pleasure when he comes, and Mattie and Hallie are always putting by for you something good to eat. Goodbye, dear Robin, come home very soon.

Affectionally your own wife E. M. C.