This letter is authored by Betsey Elmer Johnson Wood (1812-1889), Emily’s sister. Betsey was also the author of the last letter. However, in this case it is not a ‘Letter to Emily’, but to a relative, Nabby Howes (1793-1869), who Betsey calls Aunt Nabby. Nabby Howes was related to Betsey and Emily through their mother Elizabeth Betsey Elmer Johnson. This letter recaps what has happened since Betsey’s last letter. When reading this letter, we were struck by how lyrical it appears. The letter ends with a poem, which we believe was written by Betsey. If any readers can identify the poem as that of another author, please contact the Historical Society at palmer-house@hson.info.
Aunt Nabby – Nabby Howes (1793-1869)
My father/father – Josiah Clemmons Johnson (1781-1856), Betsey’s father
Julius – Julius Johnson Brittan (1835-1912), Betsey’s nephew and Juliette Johnson Brittan’s son. Juliette died one month after Julius was born and then lived he with Betsey. His father died when he was 5.
Elizabeth – Irene Elizabeth Munn (1835-1915), Julius’s wife.
Sylvia – Sylvia Johnson Buell (1810-1857), Betsey’s sister
Two children – Mary Elmira Buell (1843-1914), and Josiah Homer Buell (1852-1931), Sylvia’s surviving children
Buried her oldest – Joseph Elmer Buell (1840-1854), Sylvia’s son.
Josiah’s, in Leray – Josiah Johnson III (1806-1881), Betsey’s brother
Aunt Sylvia – unknown
Susanna – unknown
Uncle Brainard – a relative on the Elmer side
Carlos – Carlos Hawley Johnson (1802-1855), Betsey’s brother
Carlos widow – Fanny Gertrude Wellman (1812-1880)
Lucy – Lucy Ann Johnson (1837-1924), Carlos’s daughter
Fanny – Fanny Gertrude Johnson (1856-1904), Carlos’s daughter and Fanny Gertrude Wellman’s daughter
Northfield Jan. 11, 1857
Now Aunt Nabby I hope you don’t think we’ve forgotten you or cease to claim you aunt, because there has been no written communication between us for years, or that separation, or distance can divide affection, that time can erase the fondly cherished look, the kind act, the wise reproof, the daily and yearly gathered, instilled, clinging links of love, grown in the same soil, cultivated under the same roof, branches of the same stock, graffed on, and taken off, growing together and dividing, till we are almost left like an ensign on a hill or as a beacon on the top of a mountain. My father is dead; deceased Dec. eleventh, aged seventy-five years nine months and eleven days. He has suffered infirmities a number of years, and suffered a great deal in his last sickness, though apparently not conscious of the extremity of his suffering. Julius, Juliette’s only child, is married to Elizabeth [A?]; we are pleased with the event, though he is young. Sylvia is low, if now alive, which is uncertain. She has been sick a long time and suffered severely. She has two children and has buried one, her oldest. I started last fall to go to Buckland to see you and my friends, and the old home, and went to Josiah’s, in Leray for a visit, intending to proceed on to Buckland; but my health failed and had to return before I made my visit wholly there. I saw Aunt Sylvia and Susanna; they were well, and there heard of Uncle Samuel’s death. Father did not live long to enjoy the comfort of their new house, but I trust he has found a better house eternal in the heavens, prepared by Gods own hands, made beautiful by His presence, and joyous by the ransomed host of the redeemed, and the music of angels; an eternal rest, where his wearied limbs can rest free from pain, and his tempest-lost soul is fed with immortal love. You may have heard that Uncle Brainard has removed to Iowa; likewise, Carlos’s widow, where she has been married again. Carlos’s children by Lucy remain in Ohio. He left one by Fanny his second wife, which she called Fanny and carried her to Iowa.
written along the left side of the page: Our friends are usually well. Write to us, do.
My Father
My Father has gone to the grave,
Gone to the Lord. Who hath power to save.
Has wrestled with want, and victory won,
Triumphant in glory let him live on.
Yes, he has gone,
Gone to his rest.
With faith sure and strong,
God hath his soul blest.
My Father has gone.
God’s word is sure,
Which will forever and ever endure,
That the humble who trust in Christ’s great grace,
Shall in heaven find an exalted place.
Yes, he has gone.
the weary is dead,
From earth and its scenes his spirit has fled.
Excelling in bliss, Christ gave him his dress,
Meet for a reward where the Lord will bless.
Yes, he has gone.
My Father is gone.
faith gives me strength,
To say, in heaven, he’s labored at length.
Though lowly he lived,
suffering toil and pain,
Our loss is his last,
exceeding, great gain
Yes he has gone,
Christ was his trust,
And my faith is strong,
That he’s with the just.
Angels will you list.
list my daily moan,
Did you fold your circling wings round the loved one.
0 bring he joyful news to dry the weeping eyes,
That ye have borne a soul to your paradise.
God’s word is sure, Mortals, there’s faith Truth will endure,
And triumph o’er death.
Betsey E.J. Wood
The next letter in the series is sent from LeRay, New York, where Josiah Johson III has been living. He gives a rather terse report on the happenings to the family as a whole.
