Soldier's Response to a "Dear John" Letter (pages 4 & 1)
[I'm posting two contrasting letters today. The other one shows how a fellow asked his girl out on a date before the invention of the telephone. This one is a soldier's bitter response to a "Dear John" letter.]
Portsmouth [Va.] Dec 27th [1864]
Oh dear don't time fly. I am quite grey already.
Your letter, after a period of ten days since its writing, has at length been received. I answer immediately.
Your letter was full of "slurs", "innuendoes" and such like, that I don't understand. They may come from a trifling disposition rather than from a malicious one. At least I want to think so. I wish rather our acquaintance had terminated in a more pleasant way. Such was my hope and intention. But it is all over and all is right.
The title of Madam is properly a married one but we can strain a point now and then; give it in doubtful cases without much harm to society or young ladies. Ah yes, if I see any of your relatives in this part of this state I shall, as you desire, tell them of you, "what shall I tell them."
Again as you say we don't understand one another, and you are remarkably truthful in that calculation, as in fact, you are at all times. I envy you, your discerning character.
I have not until quite recently found it a "practice to write to you." Lately there has been a piquancy about you that served me for many pleasant cogitations and quaint speculations as to what it could all be about. Before this period I mention, before your unbelief in me became a popular theory with you, I was always watching for and answering your letters with real pleasure. My recent letters have been written also with a view to find out what could really be the matter with you, but I give up the unsuccessful tack. But you might notwithstanding have given me some faint idea as to your real purpose. I might guess for instance "are you engaged to be married soon," have you joined church "Do you take the veil," or what is more than probable have you been giving ear to the cunning fabrications of our well beloved Cousin S. L. How is it?
Yes I often hear from my Brother in Columbus but what of that.
Well Miss or Madam as the case may be I wish you a Happy New Year "sure enough I reckon" as the natives here say.
Oh yes, I don't remember of your having ever before asked me for your two (or four) cards [carte de visite photographs]. "Honor bright," I think you gave them all to me, did you not? Are you going to take them back? I gave by your permission one to my sister who has it now in her album in New York. The other is in my Aunt's album in NY too. I can't send [them] to you until I can either write or get them myself, so have patience and your wounded personnel will be mollified. Your daguerreotype [probably a glass plate ambrotype photograph] I have here. Shall I send it or smash it into oblivion? Speak. Anything of this kind you may have of mine you can just pitch into the fire and watch it please until it resembles the ashes of our dead friendship.
Pardon me if I said aught in offense or that is not polite, for I am in a dreadful hurry.
I am yours Candidly,
F. P. D.
[Lieutenant Frank P. Dale, Company H, 3rd Ohio Infantry]
Soldier's Response to a "Dear John" Letter (pages 4 & 1)
[I'm posting two contrasting letters today. The other one shows how a fellow asked his girl out on a date before the invention of the telephone. This one is a soldier's bitter response to a "Dear John" letter.]
Portsmouth [Va.] Dec 27th [1864]
Oh dear don't time fly. I am quite grey already.
Your letter, after a period of ten days since its writing, has at length been received. I answer immediately.
Your letter was full of "slurs", "innuendoes" and such like, that I don't understand. They may come from a trifling disposition rather than from a malicious one. At least I want to think so. I wish rather our acquaintance had terminated in a more pleasant way. Such was my hope and intention. But it is all over and all is right.
The title of Madam is properly a married one but we can strain a point now and then; give it in doubtful cases without much harm to society or young ladies. Ah yes, if I see any of your relatives in this part of this state I shall, as you desire, tell them of you, "what shall I tell them."
Again as you say we don't understand one another, and you are remarkably truthful in that calculation, as in fact, you are at all times. I envy you, your discerning character.
I have not until quite recently found it a "practice to write to you." Lately there has been a piquancy about you that served me for many pleasant cogitations and quaint speculations as to what it could all be about. Before this period I mention, before your unbelief in me became a popular theory with you, I was always watching for and answering your letters with real pleasure. My recent letters have been written also with a view to find out what could really be the matter with you, but I give up the unsuccessful tack. But you might notwithstanding have given me some faint idea as to your real purpose. I might guess for instance "are you engaged to be married soon," have you joined church "Do you take the veil," or what is more than probable have you been giving ear to the cunning fabrications of our well beloved Cousin S. L. How is it?
Yes I often hear from my Brother in Columbus but what of that.
Well Miss or Madam as the case may be I wish you a Happy New Year "sure enough I reckon" as the natives here say.
Oh yes, I don't remember of your having ever before asked me for your two (or four) cards [carte de visite photographs]. "Honor bright," I think you gave them all to me, did you not? Are you going to take them back? I gave by your permission one to my sister who has it now in her album in New York. The other is in my Aunt's album in NY too. I can't send [them] to you until I can either write or get them myself, so have patience and your wounded personnel will be mollified. Your daguerreotype [probably a glass plate ambrotype photograph] I have here. Shall I send it or smash it into oblivion? Speak. Anything of this kind you may have of mine you can just pitch into the fire and watch it please until it resembles the ashes of our dead friendship.
Pardon me if I said aught in offense or that is not polite, for I am in a dreadful hurry.
I am yours Candidly,
F. P. D.
[Lieutenant Frank P. Dale, Company H, 3rd Ohio Infantry]