Louisa Wylie Boisen to Hermann B. Boisen, 22 June 1875

Louisa W. Boisen, Bloomington, Indiana to Prof. Hermann B. Boisen, Terre Haute, Indiana

Bloomington, June 22, 1875 

My dearest Hermann,

            Your dear, good letter reached me a little while ago, and you can imagine how glad and relieved I was to get it. For I was afraid you were sick, since I could think of no other reason which would keep you from answering the letter which I thought you must have received Thursday. Now I fear you will be greatly troubled at not hearing from me tomorrow. I wanted to write on Saturday, but I was afraid that my last two letters had been displeasing to you in some way and I felt so badly at not hearing from you that I knew I would not be able to write a decent letter and so I felt today. I have been obliged to keep myself from thinking too much about you for fear I would again feel as I did last week and I would have very little courage to go through what is before me if I should be taken sick while feeling so. So I have kept up as brave a heart as possible and have succeeded better than I thought I could. I am only troubled now on your account. You don’t know what a load is off my heart and how glad I feel to think that you will come this week. I really do hate to have you leave before the Commencement, but if you can finish your work this week, I do not think it will be quite safe to wait till Monday, though it is possible I may not be sick till then. Ma gives me till Sabbath. I was afraid this morning that I would be sick by tonight, but I feel better this p.m. and hope I shall keep up till the end of the week. I should be sorry indeed to hurry you home before your work is done if after all I should not be sick within a week. But the signs, the sinking downwards of the womb seems to be relied up as sure. It is already more than a week since it happened. Judging from my feelings today, I should think the time not far off. Last week after I received your letter I felt much better, indeed, I felt unusually well and “spry” until today. I could walk more and with more ease than I have for several weeks. On Thursday Mrs. Fee and Rene and Anna Ballantine were here in the morning and in the evening Mrs. Taylor made me quite a long visit. The next day Mrs. Small spent with us. On Saturday Mrs. Blair and Emma called and on Sabbath Mrs. Alexander came over and staid with me while the family were all at church. It was very good for me to have these visits, for I could not worry so much about not hearing from you. Today I heard that Scott Butler has a little son, born last month in Heidelberg. Of course they must be glad to have a son, having had three daughters. Those were indeed sweet letters from Germany. I have written to Mother but have not sent the letter. I will add more and send it tomorrow or next day if I can get stamps. There were none in the house today and Pa said tonight that he hadn’t any. Perhaps it will be best not to send it till the end of the week, as it will then be in time for Mother’s birthday. But it is late now, nearly 12 o’clock and I will leave the rest of this for tomorrow.

            I am alone tonight. I kept Ma awake nearly all night when she staid with me and that won’t do as she must not be tired out before she has to lose her rest. My dearest and best of husbands good night. I love you more than I can tell you.

Tuesday morning.

            We had quite a storm last evening. Two inches of rain fell. This morning it looks like clearing off. We found one of the lilies you sent me broken off this morning, a worm had eaten through the stem. It seems such a pity that it should have been the lily that had but one stem. The others have two branches each. The flowers are doing well. The verbenas and roses are beginning to grow and bloom nicely and the Geranium bed already makes quite a show. I think the Arundo Donax is prettier than last year, though hardly so vigorous. The Cannas are very fine. The begonia is growing splendidly. I am much afraid that the cut-leaved birch is not going to live. You will be glad to hear that two of the Acacias are living, perhaps all. I have four Fuchsias in bloom. The tall one you brought me last Summer, Marginata, Spirosa, and Puritani. We discovered the other day that the red spider was making sad havoc among the flowers. We are trying to get rid of it but it is hard work.

            I am able to creep around this morning. Have been down to breakfast and walked down to the gates, but it is becoming pretty hard to get about. My back now begins to hurt for the first time. I do hope though that I can keep up till the end of the week. I suppose when you say you will come Friday that you mean you will start Friday and get here Saturday morning. I do not know that I shall be able to write you a letter again, but I will try to send you a postal card tomorrow and next day to let you know how things are progressing, and if I should be really taken sick we will dispatch. But don’t be frightened and don’t try to come in any other way than by the regular train. I shall probably be sick a long while and you will have plenty of time to get here, for we will dispatch as soon as we are sure that labor has begun. I should feel uneasy if I thought you were trying to come across the country, and you would not get here any sooner if as soon as by the train. I think it is very likely that we will have at least a day before hand so that you will have plenty of time to come on the cars, though I know you will feel very anxious to have to wait so long at Greencastle. Still you know I will have the best of care and much as I shall want you with me, I would rather you would wait than run any risk. I do wish though, dear Hermann, that you would be getting your things together in your trunk now, so that you will not be so hurried at the last that you will forget half and be obliged to go back to arrange things. I want you to stay if possible when you come. You can lay the books you want to bring home in the trunk now and the clothes which you are not wearing, and be sure to have your washing brought home Thursday if you can. And don’t forget my letters. I wouldn’t have them left so that any one could see them for anything. Then when you have all your things together, you won’t have much trouble in packing. I expect you think I am taking a great deal upon myself to tell you all this, but I know that your mind will be so occupied till the last moment with other things that I don’t think you will care if I remind you of these things. You don’t know how I rejoice at the thought of seeing you, dear Hermann. I am only sorry that you must come before the school has closed, but unless we are all much mistaken it will be necessary if you would be here in time. [A German sentence.] Oh, how I do hope that all will go well. If I do write sometimes as if in a doubtful tone, yet you must not think because I speak of the result as uncertain that I am low spirited. Indeed the very fact that I am not more so makes me feel somewhat uneasy sometimes, for but I am very thankful that I have been so sustained and have been so well both in health and spirits, I don’t doubt but that I shall have a very hard time. I am sorry that you must see me suffer so, but it will be a great help to have you near me, dear Hermann, and to feel that you love me. But how much I am writing about myself. You don’t know how I hope, dear Hermann, that this little creature may be the means of making me a better human in every way. More unselfish, more loving, and more pure. It seems so strange to me that any woman can talk as I hear one in this town is talking who expects soon to have a second child laid upon her bosom. There may be cases where a woman would feel that it would be better that she should not have children, but that she should feel so merely because she will be obliged to forego some of her pleasure in going out and enjoying herself in that way, I cannot understand. I know there is great care and responsibility and confinement where there are children and that mothers are sometimes so wearied and so overburdened that they feel their burdens are almost too much for them, but then what a pleasure and delight it must be to have a family sound in body and mind growing up around one.

            Doesn’t it seem strange that Miss Breg should marry Mr. Schmidt? That I really think is an undertaking I would not like to attempt. It seems to me such a great responsibility to have even the care of one child and to have the care of eight all at once! That is indeed too much. I liked the Misses Breg very much and I’m sure I wish her all happiness. Mother’s and Anna’s letters are so good and kind. I am ashamed that I should have written such “blue” letters to them. I know I do not have such faith and trust as I should have. I hope indeed that we may be able to send them joyful news for Mother’s birthday and if I am sick this week, I think the letter would just reach them on or near that day.

But dearest Hermann, I am writing you such a long, poor letter. I am afraid you will not have time or patience to read it. It may be the last. I hope indeed that it will after this be a long while before one shall be obliged to have intercourse for so long a time only through letters.

You did not write me anything about your lecture or your visit to the president or to Greencastle, but I hope soon to hear all these things by “word of mouth” if I am able to listen. It will be nice if I am still up next Saturday and able to meet you. I should dislike to have you come and find me in the greatest suffering.

            But now, dear Hermann, goodby. I am afraid you were somewhat disappointed at not hearing from me this morning, but I think you will bear such things somewhat better than I do. If you see Mrs. Byers, before you leave give her my best love. Also to Mrs. Wilson, whose letter I have not answered and I do not think I shall be able to now. My dear, good Hermann, forgive me all the trouble and vexation I have ever caused you and believe that I love you truly and with all my heart, so much that if I felt you did not really care for me I believe I could not live. Hoping to see you very soon and rejoicing in the thought. As ever and always and only

Your Lou

Mag is better and has a good girl, so she will not come home now. Anton can walk again. Please write a card before you come if you have time, but I will try not to be foolish if I don’t hear. Please bring the July Scribner when you come.

Theophilus Adam Wylie Family Correspondence, 1806 - 1930, (bulk 1850 - 1930), Collection 2005.003.2849, Wylie House Museum, Indiana University, Bloomington.