Hill Country Living
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Hill Country Living
By Coulter Fussell
It’s a Wagner Week and here we have mother Maria Wagner writing to her oldest child, John Henry, who is off at military school. Some things stay the same at Christmastime no matter the century: the stress of it all and the possibility of the mail breaking your packages.
You can always count on Maria to point out the downside of any occasion. Maria does offer her son some really good advice about not firing off emotional letters without sitting on them for a day or two first. Finally, in the last Wagner Week column in the Herald, little Jessie Wagner reported on Miss Emma Crawford’s health from a week before this letter was written. Jessie said Emma’s health hadn’t improved but hadn’t gotten worse. She said that Emma had been eating a lot of snow. This week we see that Emma died.
It’s sort of poetic and bittersweet to imagine how in the last week of this young woman’s Mississippi life, she got to spend it eating fresh snow.
Water Valley,
December 22, 1886
My dearest John,
I have tried to find time for two days to write you but as usual the busier I am the more I am disturbed or interrupted. If you only think one moment you might remember how it is and now it is even more so. Well, my dear I hope you will get your box. All right, I will try and tell you about it. Aunt sis made and sent the chocolate cake. She was so sorry she could not send you something nicer, but she had not the funds to get it. I told her you would appreciate the cake. Emma sent the coconut cake. She fixed it. I fixed the doughnuts for I know you like them. The box weighed 7 pounds. I was so busy that day I never sat down only to eat my dinner. Emma and I took the lantern and Ed and went to the depot with the box after dark. Your father sent you a beautiful silk umbrella.
I hope it went all right, and will not get any ways hurt from carriages. They are so rough with some things. I don’t know how it is with Xpress.
I do hope you learn fast and be a good boy and never as long as you live write to anyone — and especially your one dear father — when you are out of humor. Always wait till you think about it a while and you will always be glad. Now try it after this and you will not regret it.
Poor Miss Emma Crawford died yesterday, was buried this afternoon. She looked so pretty, so much like Corinne did. I’m so sorry for the mother, she took it so hard. I think she was the most refined, lady-like, modest young lady in this town. I never saw anything about her that bordered on rudenss.
I heard Ida Moore was married today. Some doctor. I can’t remember his name.
Well John. I will close with lots and lots of love and kisses and wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Write as soon as you get this. I’m anxious to hear how things come to hand.
Much love, from your loving Mother.
