Full transcription:

Whiting Dec  1824

My Dear Mother, it is rather late in the evening and my children are asleep and I improve a few moments in writing again to you my dear Mother. The last letter I sent was written in such haste I hardly finished it. The request I made to father is not needed. I expect it may have caused him some uneasiness but he must forgive me. The talked of bargain was nearly closed when some misunderstanding put all afloat. A gentleman here offered to lend Mr. H nearly all the money that was deserved, had I know that I should have written just as I did. The next place we move to is yet undetermined. Mr (Bisbee) wants us to keep the tavern another year but I cannot think of it without horror. I have no desire to settle here. I have had but little peace since we sold out farm in Bridport. My views never went beyond the hills that surrounded our dwelling. I was thin, contented, but oh my dear Mother we all have to share in the changes of fortune

“The noisy crowd, the thoroughly festive band
The gay, the young, the wealthy, and the poor
Must feel, alike, the weight of Sorrow’s hand
Must learn of grief the honor; and Fortune’s frown endure”

There is nothing this town contains, (but my family) that my heart is any ways attached to. The soil so poor that I fear if we calculated to get our living by telling the ground we should run in debt. I shall be glad whenever we get to a home of our own where I can lay down in peace and non to make me afraid. But if the remainder of my days are to be spent in uneasiness and anxiety may Heaven grant to you all ever comfort this world affords.

Dec 19 Thomas is going directly to Bridport and by him I send this to you my dear Mother. I hope you are all well enjoying good health and every other blessing and all the rest of my dear friends in Bridport. I have not been well this several days but not so but what I (kept) about my work I hope shall be better than this week. If not I must have help – but do not feel anxious about me, the world owes me a living, if I have to work hard for it. Do come and see me as soon as it is sleighing. Tell Father not to think of that money request for we can do without it. We have property enough that will turn some way or other, for a situation I hope. Tell Father to come and visit us and all my brother and sisters. Near a year since Champlins eyes were closed on all thing below the sun. Him we shall never forget, though “years on years are sweeping by” But I am in haste my house now filled with Sunday company. Farewell, love to all friends.

Betsy Hayward