Lancaster, September 27^th, 1866       

 

            This day being the day appointed for the celebration of the grand Republican mass-meeting for the City and County of Lancaster, and we having got a holiday for that purpose, instead of participating in it, as originally I had intended, I shall stay at home (although it is a most serene and beautiful day, after it had rained yesterday all day long), and devote this very same day (or at least the greater part of it) to you, my dearest friend, or else a still longer procrastination would take place, and thus it might happen, after all, that this letter, destined more particularly for you and your dear consort, would never reach the place of its destination.

 

            But I am greatly at a loss how to exculpate myself and expiate my offence of having left unanswered your favor of the 6^th of June, for so long a period of time—nearly four months having elapsed since the receipt of your kind letter, so that at the present moment, I am almost ashamed of answering at all. Nevertheless, since I am necessitated to apologize for myself because of this dereliction of duty, I still hope to be forgiven, when, in extenuation of my fault, I adduce, as some apology or excuse, two principal causes, or main reasons, which hitherto have prevented me from fulfilling a duty that I owe to a friend, such a one as I trust you are to me—to wit: the terrible heat in June, and more especially in the month of July; and the late war in Germany.

 

1.) In the first place—that tremendous, all-conquering heat, which well nigh had killed me; (it has killed some, not to say many persons, by sun-stroke and other noxious effects.) Two, or perhaps three weeks after the receipt of your favor of the 6^th of June, I commenced writing a letter to you—but just then the most intensive, excruciating heat set in at once, and as intensive heat (strange to say, the older I grow, the more it appears to affect and to oppress me,) quite overpowers and overwhelms me, or, as Hamlet says, "quite Oercrows my spirit", I felt myself entirely incapacitated to go on and had to put it off for some more convenient time. Would to God, I could have, during the hot season, been enabled to hide and protect myself against the piercing rays of the sun, in the Aeolus Cave, or "Cave of the Winds", (below the Central Fall), at Niagara Falls. There, being separated from the world and "the rest of mankind", not only would I have had a first rate chance of enjoying a most comfortable and refreshing shower-bath "within and behind the veil", but also, an excellent opportunity of improving my poetical essay (the only one I ever attempted), / entitled: "Niagara", of which I made mention in a former letter to you.

 

2) In the second place—That infernal war in Germany, which broke out almost simultaneously with the setting in of the tremendous, all-conquering heat, has prevented me from writing sooner; for, although not directly, yet so much the more indirectly was, and still I am identified with, and interested in it, for reasons that I have scarcely any need of detailing to you in particular, but which you may easily guess at, and hit upon of your own accord. During all that time I was, by reason of that infernal war, in such a state of excitement, anxiety and trouble, that on Sundays (the only time I have for my own disposition and recreation) I found myself unable to do any thing else but to devour as many German newspapers, containing European news, as I could get hold of. Now I have stated to you the two principal causes or main reasons for my long silence, and I hope to be excused, on account of them. But now that the heat is over, and that infernal war thus far finished, (though I believe that it will be only the execrable cause and bloody seed of a general European war, arising out of it, probably at no very remote period), I shall no longer procrastinate, (even at the sacrifice of not attending to the mass meeting, out of love and / friendship for you,) but, to make amends, in some measure, for my long delay, send you a letter so voluminous, and of such dimensions, that you shall not wish ever to receive another one of a similar size or circumference!

 

            In answering your interesting letter, which you wrote on your birth-day, (the 6^th of June, I presume—for the date is not mentioned in the letter itself, but only on the envelope, within the postmark,) I shall make an exception from the general rule, commencing with the end, instead of the beginning; then I shall proceed, endeavoring to reply, in substance, to the various subjects of your letter in the order it is written; reserving, for the conclusion, as the "crowning glory"—if I may be allowed this expression—the promised description of the "adventure", or "extemporized farce" or "capital joke" I should more correctly, or more appropriately have called it, briefly alluded to in my former letter,—in which my insignificant self played a very prominent part. Thus you will, at the very outset, have a programme, or, as it were, a "bird's eye view" of the contents of the forthcoming letter.

 

            At the close of your letter, as well as by the enclosed card, I have seen that, in the mean time, you have embarked in the bookselling / business, etc., and you want to know, whether you could buy German books by the wholesale, in the city of Lancaster. In reply to this inquiry, I would tell you, that there are several large bookstores in our town, (Messrs. Bear, proprietors of the "Volksfreund"—printing-establishment, have a large bookstore in possession and are dealers in books, stationery, etc.), but in neither of them would you find German books of any consequence. If you want to buy good German books, I would call your attention to the bookselling establishment of Messrs. Schaefer and Corradi, corner of Fourth and Wood Streets, Philadelphia. These two gentlemen hail from Switzerland, and are importers of German books. In my view, it would be the best plan and the cheapest way for you to address yourself to, and deal with those gentlemen. They would, I believe, procure for you any books you may desire to receive.

 

            You commenced your letter with the announcement, that a member of your family—your sister-in-law—had, after a long illness and suffering, departed this life. You / may rest assured, that I heartily sympathize with the members of your family, but more especially with your brother, Mr. Jacob Albright, knowing, from my own experience, how deeply the bleeding heart is wounded, pierced and afflicted, when those who are nearest and dearest to us, are taken from us. I buried three children already—two of them I lost in the course of less than a week—a severe blow, indeed—but the name of the Lord be praised, they are not lost forever, but only transplanted, as tender plants, into a more congenial soil, in order that they may be preserved from the storms of our sublunary world, and cherished and nourished by the rays of a milder sun—the Sun of Righteousness—may bloom and fourish as beautiful flowers, under the shade of the Tree of Life, and near the River of Bliss, in the Paradise regained by our Saviour and Redeemer—for "the Saviour has done all things well", and "the Lord, our God, is not a God of the dead, but of the living".

 

            Most gladly would I follow your suggestion to quit work for a while, and accept your invitation to pay you a visit, and by so doing to try to get rid of my sore foot. At all events, it would do me a great deal of good, I know, in body and mind, though I doubt whether it would have any effect on a sore foot; but I see no possibility of accomplishing it, for my / present situation is such a one that I hardly could obtain permission to quit work for a single week, to say nothing of other obligations that would prevent me from following my ardent desire. I know, also, that a change of climate, and more particularly, a voyage at sea, cures some diseases. The truth of this fact I may corroborate by my own experience; for in the year 1843, when plagued with the ague, after having tried various kinds of medicine, but all in vain, I at once resolved, being homesick at the same time, to make a voyage to Europe and to see—for the last time—the dear old "fatherland", and those yet living there who are near and dear to me. I was sick when I left the country, being lamentably shaken by the fever every other day, for which reason I took along with me almost a whole apothecary's shop store full of medicines—and scarcely had I been a few days on board the vessel that took me to Europe, when I felt perfectly well and as healthy as ever, and never got the fever again.—Yes, my dear friend, if I was still living in single blessedness, and was not plagued with that sore foot, I would certainly pay you a visit, with cane in hand and knapsack on the shoulder, and, like a soldier, march some thirty miles a day, as I was wont to do formerly. But for me, / alas! this is all over now, and if ever I should be so happy of seeing you once more in this world, it could only come to pass by your traveling round the country and paying me a visit—and I still entertain a faint hope that this may happen one day. This certainly would refresh my spirit and revive my heart!

 

Sunday, September 30^th, '66.

            I could not finish my letter on Thursday, for the weather was too beautiful, the occasion too tempting for me as not at least, in the afternoon, to witness the grand procession within the city to the place of meeting, without the city. Indeed, I hardly can recollect ever in my life to have seen a more beautiful day, a more serene sky, or to have breathed a more brazing air. In short, it was a glorious day in more than one respect—to the great vexation and chagrin of the copperheads.—I shall not attempt to give you a description of the celebration of the day, but only add a short extract from the Lancaster "Daily Express", as follows:

 

            "Thursday was a glorious day for Lancaster county, for the Union Republican party had one of the grandest Mass Meetings that has ever been held in this State. It is utterly impossible to compute the number of persons present, the length of the procession, or the greatness of the day." /

 

            "The meeting of the Union Republican citizens and the "Boys in Blue" of Lancaster county in this city to-day, (27^th Sept.) is the grandest political demonstration ever witnessed here. It surpasses any meeting or convention ever held in the "Old Guard" not excepting the great conventions of 1840. The day dawned beautifully. It would seem as if Providence smiled on the glorious cause. It is impossible to give the faintest description of the grandeur of the scene. To-day we can only say that the turn-out is unprecedented in the history of politics in Lancaster county. The honest yeomanry are indeed aroused, and alive to the great issues now at stake."

 

            After this short episode or digression from my purpose, involuntarily presented by the occasion alluded to, I now shall try to finish my letter to-day, proceeding as follows:

 

            It is with great pleasure and heart-felt gratification that I have read the announcement of your having entered the matrimonial state, and I feel happy in the thought that yourself, as well as your estimable and respected consort, will vouchsafe to accept (although I am an utter stranger to the latter), yet may vouchsafe to accept my most hearty gratulations to that most important event of your lives, which, / on the altar of my heart, I offer as a sacrfice for the temporal as well as, the eternal happiness and welfare of both of you. May the Lord bless you, with his richest blessings, for evermore! Amen!

 

            Now, as you are my youngest, and, I dare say, my dearest friend, may it not be too bold for me to ask, nay, most heartily beseech you, to show me one favor? But I hardly dare to speak out my mind, for fear of being thought insolent and overbearing—would you not be so kind as to send me, if it may be done without any inconvenience to you, and, of course, with the acquiescence and permission of your dear Spouse—to send me a photographic likeness of her? As I have your own likeness in my photographic album, so I should like very much, also to possess the portrait or likeless of your other self, or better half—or by whatsoever name you may call her. Should I have presumed too much in venturing not to withhold my most humble request, I humbly pray to be excused and pardoned. Only sincere love and friendship for you, my dear friend, could have extorted it from my heart.

 

            Now, is it possible, that you should still remember my last visit to your father's house in the month of November, 1851, now almost fifteen years ago—and the particulars, too? You then must / be in the possession of a very strong memory.—The particulars I had forgotten long since; I only recollect that I had to struggle against, and contend with the elements, working my way, some thirty miles,—if I recollect right,—from Sunbury, my starting point, assailed and surrounded on all sides by storm, wind, rain, mud, etc., so that hardly I could get along and reach there in a single day. My memory, since that time, has suffered a great deal, but more particularly since the death of our children. And the partial loss of my memory may also be the cause, that almost I had lost sight of you altogether. Can you forgive me that, my friend? Yes, you will, if you consider the grief, the trials and sorrows I had to go through during that long interval. Besides, you were, when I last saw you, only a boy of about ten years of age, and never had I thought that you would remember me after so long a period of time, much less, that ever we would exchange letters with each other. It was as late as Christmas, 1863, when on a visit in Sunbury, I saw your uncle, Mr. Charles Albright, and he showed to me a letter or two of yours, at which I was astonished,—and then all my recollection of you I could muster up, at once kindled into a flame of love and friendship for you. I can, however, remember / very well the time, when, in the year 1841, (on the second of July, if I recollect right,) I came up from Harrisburg, in company with my departed friend, Mr. Lewis Young, to Northumberland, where both of us took up our headquarters at Bachman's, from whence to make excursions into the surrounding beautiful and romantic country. I may say, in this connection, that the four or five months we lived there, was the happiest time during my sojourn in America. A few days after our arrival at Northumberland, friend Bachman introduced me to your Father's house and family, on the Blue Hill—your birthplace—as "The Old Everywhere and Nowhere." ([written in German]) You, my dear friend, were then the youngest member of the family, a babe of only a few weeks, and then, and afterwards occasionally, I had the pleasure of rocking you in your cradle. Do you recollect that?—

 

            "I would almost like to write you a brief history of my life (you say near the close of your letter) as it has been for the last four years", etc., etc. And again: "Should your curiosity tempt you to know more, I may give you a sketch some time in the future".—O, brave! yes, I want to have it by all means, if / not too much trouble to you. It is not only curiousity that prompts me—nay, it is more than that; it is interest, heart-felt sympathy, friendship—sincere friendship, love, or call it by whatsoever name you please, that tempts me to hear more about your antecedents and experiences, more especially during so important a period of the world's history; and coming from your pen, it must, it will be very interesting, indeed!—From these reasons and considerations I hope, yes, I trust, that you will be as good as your word to give me, at your leisure and convenience, a brief history or sketch of your life. It would be acknowledged and appreciated by me, as a sure proof of your sincere friendship towards me!

 

            I am aware that I have already transcended the bounds of a letter, for my writing has, as I perceive, the appearance, or shape, of a legistlative, judicial or executive document, rather than that of an ordinary letter; therefore I will have to leave out the last part of the programme, announced somewhere on the first sheet—namely the celebrated /

 

"adventure" or rather "extemporized farce", the description of which would swell the letter to an unnatural size—therefore I shall reserve it for the next time.

 

            Most probably you will have counted me among the dead, by reason of my long silence. Pray do not retaliate by a like silence, but pardon me for this time—remember the two principal causes of my silence,—the great heat and the infernal war, and I promise you that you will not have to wait long for an answer to your next letter.

 

            My foot is getting better now, but during the hot season it was so frightfully swollen that I scarcely could put on a slipper, much less a shoe, and had severe pains to suffer. I believe I shall never get rid of it entirely, for it certainly will break up again next spring, if not sooner.

 

            In conclusion I would request you to present my best respects to your estimable wife, and to your dear parents and brothers. Accept Please to accept, also, the respects of my wife and the little ones. I remain, with the highest regard,

 

Your old German friend,

Charles Christian Edward Kretschmar, alias:

["Old Everywhere and Nowhere", written in German]

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