McCue Family Papers
University of Virginia Library
[McCue Papers 4406] Staunton July 22d 1859 Dear John. We were greatly disappointed by your failure to come over, after I wrote you that Moses was here. Indeed from the terms of your letter I felt certain you would come. Mary's disappointment was almost as great as if she too had known you, as well as the rest of us. She is extremely anxious to see you & Liz. She has heard so much of you that she wants to know you. She is now looking over my shoulder, and says "that's all true, Give them my love & tell them I do want to see them very much." Now that her message is reduced to writing she has taken her seat, and gone to knitting "nubia[?] work" with all her might. So I can write on. Whilst on this subject, let me add John, that my home is once more as bright as it ever was. The wife I have, is in every sense worthy to succeed her we both knew & loved so well. My children are just as happy as it is possible for children to be. They almost idolize their new mother. There home is so much more bright and pleasant now than it has been for months past, that the little things // are almost intoxicated with delight at the change. It is very touching to me to witness the deep tenderness of feeling which has sprung up between them, Especially between Mary and Jennie. Unconsciously to herself, I often see Jennie follow her mother from one room to another, holding her by the hand with the most confiding affection. Almost every morning, Jennie & Russie, as soon as they are dressed repair to the yard, and each makes a bouquet or weaves a garland of green leaves and gay flowers, with which they voluntarily dress Mary's head when she appears at the breakfast table. And Frank never tires in his little efforts to attract her attention & win an approving smile. All together they are as happy a trio of joyous children as you ever saw. Last evening I was seated alone on the porch, just before tea, when Jennie came and sat by me, & said to me "Pa I am so glad you have married again. I never want to leave you & Ma." Said I, "Jennie do you love her." Her reply was "Yes Sir, I love her as much as I did my own mother, and more than I ever loved anybody else // than you." And I have no doubt the child speaks the true feelings of her heart. . . . there are many here, who never before professed more than a speaking acquaintance, that you would now suppose had always been my most intimate personal friends. My wife's sisters have been staying with us until yesterday when they returned to Charlotte, to give their mother the opportunity of coming over about the 1st of August to visit us and go to the springs. During their stay here they had quite a levee almost every night. & they found it impossible to return all their visits from the town. Mrs. Gen. Carrington & her daughter Nannie also spent 3 or 4 days with us, and they too received similar attentions. All this is very pleasant to me. It is gratifying to see the efforts some persons I will hereafter tell you of, are making to appear as the best friends I ever had. And it is no less gratifying inasmuch as it affords me the opportunity of showing by a frigid politeness my utter contempt for all such hollow heartedness. My wife's relations, who will visit her from time // to time happen to be people that many in our community who set themselves up as the top of the place, are ready to fall down and worship, and all this new born friendship for me, is only to open the way for them to meet such of Mary's relatives as may now and then visit her. When I see you I can tell you things that will make you shake your sides, knowing the parties as well as you do, and being thus prepared as you are to understand them fully. But I am running on and filling a whole letter with matter of a sort only to be seen by the eye of the most intimate friend, and which even to him may hardly be of sufficient interest to justify the use of so much space to the exclusion of other topics I will fill the remainder of this sheet by simply adding, that, we are all well. . . . Mary & I have spent one night at the Col's. which is the only visit we have made to the Country. Tomorrow night I think we will go to Cyrus McCue's, and shortly to David Bell's.//[end of page] [J.D. Imboden] Tuesday July 26/59[goes w/above letter] Dear John, I had written the foregoing at the time it bears date, and intended to finish & mail it next morning, but was so busy that I had not the time to do so, and on Sunday we went to Cyrus McCue's & yesterday was Court day. . . . Old Ben Reid died yesterday morning and is buried today. I have not heard the contents of his will. You know that some months ago he sold off his land & part of his negroes to Ash. Harman with a view to get his affairs settled before he died. Quarles and his wife were here in May. There is a rumour on the streets, credited to Wm B. Keyser, that Reid managed his will in such // a way as to give the bulk of his estate to Quarles, leaving little Reid with only $4000. and Sady much less than her proportion. I dont know what foundation there is for this rumour as I have not seen Keyser, nor have I talked with any one who has seen him. He is out of town today. The rumour further says that there will be a contest over the will, as Reid was not C[?]pos mentis when it was made. This is all mere rumour. In a few days I presume we shall know all about it. Moses H. goes home on Thursday of this week. I wish you could have seen him. He is the same old Mose he always was, unchanged & unchangeable. He spoke often of you, and most affectionately. I have seen little of your father for a long time. He is evidently cool towards me, for what I know not, and he and Marshall barely speak. Wm P. Tate has bought your former home from Johnston. I do not know the price but suppose it is $7000. He moves there on the 1st October. Lord old fellow, I want to see you mightily, and haven't the time to go to N. You must come over. Love to Liz, the children, Mrs. Wills and all her family. Sincerely your friend J. D. Imboden