St. Valentine's Wishes

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Posted by Davey Gunn on February 13, 2001 at 20:26:04:

Raestown
February 13, 1759

My Darling Colleen,

I write this letter on the eve of the anniversary of St. Valentine's Day. I must apologize for my lack of correspondence this last year, but you know that i am not one that enjoys the task of communication. I began a letter at Christmas, but could not bear the burden due to the depression it caused me.

I hope that you and the children are well. I miss you all very much. It seems longer than four years since i've left Scotland's Shores and your warm embrace. Please give my love to Jenni, Christian, and Rachel.

We are in winter quarters at a place called Raestown, arriving here in December after this year's campaign ended at Loyalhanna Creek. There was a fierce and bloody battle at that place with the French and their allied Natives that left many dead and wounded on both sides. I will not frighten you with details, but to say that brother Malcolm and myself are in good health. The 77th Regiment had many injured in the fight, but lost only a few.

Life here is rather simple and tolerable, such a change from being on the march. Malcolm and i share a small cabin with Wm. Johnston and Richard MacGregor, and it is quite comfortable. The Captain has promoted Malcolm to the rank of Sergeant, but i remain a Private. I think it has something to do with my Jacobite ways; and if so, i will always stay a Private.

Our camp is at the edge of this small town, and is made up of many cabins and huts inside a stockaded wall. There is a Parade outside the walls, and we drill most every day. Malcolm insists it is to keep our spirits high, being that we are professional soldiers, but most disagree. I feel he does also, but has to keep up appearances now that he is a Sergeant.

The area surrounding the town has many trees, unlike Caithness. It makes one suspect they were all planted; but then the whole of this colony is the same. This must be why they call it Penn's Woods.

I must close. I am sorry that i have no more to write. It is hard for me to put on paper that which i wish to tell you in person.

My love to all

Davey

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: Raestown
: February 13, 1759

: My Darling Colleen,

: I write this letter on the eve of the anniversary of St. Valentine's Day. I must apologize for my lack of correspondence this last year, but you know that i am not one that enjoys the task of communication. I began a letter at Christmas, but could not bear the burden due to the depression it caused me.

: I hope that you and the children are well. I miss you all very much. It seems longer than four years since i've left Scotland's Shores and your warm embrace. Please give my love to Jenni, Christian, and Rachel.

: We are in winter quarters at a place called Raestown, arriving here in December after this year's campaign ended at Loyalhanna Creek. There was a fierce and bloody battle at that place with the French and their allied Natives that left many dead and wounded on both sides. I will not frighten you with details, but to say that brother Malcolm and myself are in good health. The 77th Regiment had many injured in the fight, but lost only a few.

: Life here is rather simple and tolerable, such a change from being on the march. Malcolm and i share a small cabin with Wm. Johnston and Richard MacGregor, and it is quite comfortable. The Captain has promoted Malcolm to the rank of Sergeant, but i remain a Private. I think it has something to do with my Jacobite ways; and if so, i will always stay a Private.

: Our camp is at the edge of this small town, and is made up of many cabins and huts inside a stockaded wall. There is a Parade outside the walls, and we drill most every day. Malcolm insists it is to keep our spirits high, being that we are professional soldiers, but most disagree. I feel he does also, but has to keep up appearances now that he is a Sergeant.

: The area surrounding the town has many trees, unlike Caithness. It makes one suspect they were all planted; but then the whole of this colony is the same. This must be why they call it Penn's Woods.

: I must close. I am sorry that i have no more to write. It is hard for me to put on paper that which i wish to tell you in person.

: My love to all

: Davey

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