Louisa Wylie Boisen to Hermann B. Boisen, 18 April 1875

Full Transcription (referenced quotes are bolded):

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

Bloomington, April 18 [1875, Sunday]

[2 word German greeting]

            Yesterday I received your postal and tomorrow I hope for a long letter. I hope you have had your stove put up again so that you can keep yourself comfortable this wintry weather. The sun has been shining today but the wind still blows cold. It seems strange that such regular winter weather should stay with us still.

            I am just as sorry as you can be that we could not find that book for you. Pa said yesterday that he was afraid you would think that he had not searched for it sufficiently but I know you don’t think so. He said he looked through all the German books, even the school books. I described the book to him as well as I could, but it was not to be found. I suppose you have now no further use for it even if it should be found.

            I did not go to church today. Indeed I do not think I shall try to go any more. The last time I put on my corsets I had another of those faint spells so that I do not think it exactly wise and safe to put them on and without them I look too slovenly to be seen. I don’t like even to go about the house now where there are so many boys and a young lady, but I do.

            Dory does not appear any better today so we sent for the doctor and he says it is either fever or a severe cold. His pulse is 100 and he looks right sick. Liz has been sick and Aunt Emma not very well. Pa too does not feel exactly right. I was suffering for several days from neuralgia. This is almost the first day I have been free from it this week. So that altogether we are about ready to open a hospital. I am afraid poor Ma won’t have much rest when she comes home. I fear she herself will be sick for I expect she has been exposed a good deal. We hope she will be home this week, but we did not hear from her yesterday so we do not know how Mag is, not even whether they have been able to bring her to Muncie yet. I think not as Mr. Mellette died on Wednesday and was buried Friday, and the weather has been so very cold and disagreeable that I do not think they would attempt to take her home.

            I have just been out looking at the shrubbery. Jack Frost has made sad work there. Most of the shrubs which were putting out leaves are black. I do not suppose they are actually killed, but I do not believe they will bloom. It is nearly dark, so that I cannot see to write any more dear Hermann.

8 ½ o’clock

I have come up stairs and am sitting at my little stand writing to my best beloved. Aunt Emma sits by the fire rocking and singing Anton to sleep. Pa is in his room, Dory in his, Dick and Annie down stairs. Brown and Toph are at church. I suppose you are at church, but I hope you will not be so long detained that I shall not get my promised letter tomorrow. I don’t think that you can know, dear Hermann, how much I miss you and long for you. I know you miss me too sometimes, but most of the time you have so much else that you must think about and then you can go about and see persons and things so that you cannot give me more than a few passing thoughts during the day. At night you have to study or perhaps you visit and then you are tired out and ready for bed and sleep and thus it comes that you cannot feel the need of me as I do of you. While I am busy about my room, or sewing I can think of you, my mind is never so occupied that it cannot steal off to you, so that my heart is with you from morning to night. I know though that it is best that I should be at home this time for many reasons. But if I get safely through this and there ever is another time, I do not think I shall be willing to leave you if it can possibly be helped. I only hope that this separation will make you feel just as I do about it. You may call it jealousy or whatever you please, but I sometimes fear that surrounded as you are by so many whom you love so well, associated so closely and mingling so freely with those who are so attractive both in mind and feature, who appear so perfect to you—when you see me again so imperfect in every way, so unattractive and unlovely as I feel myself to be—you will not love me again as you did when we parted. I love you so much my Hermann, I think that I can hardly live now without your love. Please forgive me for saying such things. I know it is wrong to have such thoughts and yet it is just this sense of unworthiness that makes me have them. I do not deserve you, dear Hermann. I feel that every day. I am proud of your love and happy in it and yet with it all is the feeling that there are so many so much more worthy of it. And in my hateful selfishness, I am afraid—ought I to say it?—no, I won’t.

            What can I write you of this mystery within me. How wonderful it is. Except the daily, almost hourly increasing burden and pain which the doctor says I will feel more or less all the time now arising from pressure on my liver. I can tell you nothing. I know nothing of the wonderful development and growth within me. Oh, that all may go well and we may both pass safely through the pain and perils before us, and that I can give you a child, dear Hermann, perfect in form and mind and soul as it is given to mortals to be.

            But it is late and I must stop and go to bed where I hope to dream of you as I generally do. I believe I will not send this until Tuesday as I sent you a long letter yesterday and I hope for one from you tomorrow.

[German sentence]

Monday night [April 19]

I do not feel in good heart for writing tonight for I had no letter from you, my dear husband, today. I suppose you had something more important to attend to or perhaps you had no postage stamp or the room was too cold. And I’m sure I would rather not have a letter than to have you make yourself sick by sitting in a cold room to write to me just because I am such a baby about hearing from you. Anyhow I can hope for one tomorrow. I wrote to Gertie today and enclosed a little note for you so that you will understand why I did not send my letter today.

            We did not hear from Ma today as we expected. We feel very anxious to get a letter. Dory seems better, but if he has the intermittent fever, tomorrow will be his sick day. I have felt quite well today. Last night I did not sleep well. [German sentence] and when the doctor came to see Dory I asked him about it though I did not like to. But Aunt E didn’t know and Ma wasn’t here. He said he had no idea that anything was wrong, it was only a sign of a very vigorous child and as for this severe pain in my shoulder and other pains which I may have from this time they are only sympathetic. So I felt greatly comforted and I’m glad I asked him, for I don’t believe I’ll get much more rest tonight. He said though that it wouldn’t likely be always so bad.

            Now my dear Hermann, I want to know whether you burn my letters. This one especially I want burnt. If you don’t I won’t like to write you so freely about these things. I wouldn’t like to think that you had left this letter or similar ones at the Normal for public inspection. You don’t write me anything about the Normal or your scholars.

            But I will not write more tonight. I may add more tomorrow. Anna wanted me to spend the day with her, but I don’t like to go away from home. Oh Hermann, I cannot tell you how much I love you. It is three weeks today since I saw you last. How long it seems. [German closing sentence]

Lou

Pa is not feeling quite well. I feel anxious about him and wish Ma would soon come. I have not done very much sewing yet. I want to write home soon. Will do so this week or next. You wrote last week and I wrote to Kiel April 4^th or 5^th.

Tuesday morning [April 20]

My dear Hermann

            It is so cold and disagreeable to day that I concluded not to go to Anna’s. Dory is not so well this morning, so I suppose he really has fever of some kind. I’m afraid you will be sick if you have not had your stove put up again. Not hearing from you yesterday makes me feel anxious.

            Miss Morrison came to see me yesterday. She had been to see Mrs. Owen. She said she felt so depressed after seeing and hearing her that she almost felt as if she ought no to come over here. It must be very sad.

            If you think of it, dear Hermann, I wish you would get from Mr. Heinl that book of German songs which you lent him and send it to me when you have opportunity. Do write me something about the Normal and your scholars. Don’t spend so much time there that you will not have time for recreation, for though it may be very pleasant you need outdoor recreation too much to neglect taking it. They have been telling me that I ought to walk more, that it will be good for me, but I haven’t you to walk with me and I have neglected to go. But you like to go alone or if you want company you can always get it. But my dear Hermann I always make my letters too long. I’m afraid you do not have patience to read them. I remember the one I wrote Christmas, but I have not profited by it. I think though, that I shall make my letters shorter hereafter, not because I think you do not read them, but for reasons which I will give another time. Do be careful, dear Hermann and don’t get sick.

            I love you

            Immer Lou

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