| Title: | Agnes Shakespeare (Nesta), Alberta to Archie Higginson. |
|---|---|
| ID | 2421 |
| Collection | Irish Emigration Database |
| File | Shakespeare, Agnes/27 |
| Year | 1897 |
| Sender | Shakespeare, Agnes |
| Sender Gender | female |
| Sender Occupation | unknown |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Alberta, Canada |
| Destination | Ireland |
| Recipient | Higginson, Archie |
| Recipient Gender | male |
| Relationship | siblings |
| Source | D3590/M/4/1-16: Deposited by Godfrey Higginson Skrine |
| Archive | The Public Record Office, Northern Ireland |
| Doc. No. | 9909230 |
| Date | 06/07/1897 |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | EMG |
| Log | Document added by LT, 21:09:99. |
| Word Count | 1180 |
| Genre | |
| Note | |
| Transcript | High River, Alberta. July 6, 1897 My darling boy if you thought I was half out of my head when I wrote to you last, you mustn't wonder. Remember I only knew the bare facts of the fight, and that you were 'severely wounded'. That was all the Winnipeg paper told. And for exactly a week I knew not a thing more. I didn't know where you were wounded, or how much, or if you were recovering, or even if we had our darling Archie in this world any more. Sometimes I thought that you and [Burkly?] were together now and sometimes I thought that surely God would not take both our brothers away from us in one short year. For indeed I felt that that would be the death of mother - and what should we do. But yet I couldn't bear to write to you as if you were not really there. And then, what do you think? - the very day after I wrote to you, I got your own last letter. Walter had taken my letter in to High River to post, and to see if he could get any mail - for the country has been flooded and bridges broken and the mail service of course irregular in consequence. There was none there at all; but Mr. [Waldy?] - a friend who was staying with us - heard that the mail had reached Pekisko. And he rode off there, and brought our back as fast as ever he could. And he brought me a great bunch of red lilies with them. And the very first of my letters was your own last letter to me, with the postscript saying that all leave had been stopped, and the officers absent from the Tuchi Valley were to be recalled. The date of that was May 14th. The red lilies that came with that letter of yours I christened "soldier lilies." And afterwards when the good news came, I filled all the room with soldier lilies in your honour - our splendid soldier boy. Oh, my dear, how often did I read your letter over during that week - thinking would it be the last I should have from you, or would the loved hand-writing come over the world to me again. Without Walter I don't know how i should ever have got through that week but Walter was always full of confidence and encouragement; and together we calculated the days till the Weekly Times of June 18th should come. And after all, do you know, it came as a surprise in the end, half-a-day sooner than we thought possible. I must tell you how it came. I was sitting at luncheon, with six gentlemen who had all arrived from a sale that took place at a near ranche that morning; one of them was the Sheriff, who I had never seen before; the others were friends of ours. Suddenly there appeared at the window, a total stranger with a kind of smile on his face, and this turned out to be a cousin of Walter's, one Bean Creed, who had come to pay us a visit. He didn't know his way in. Of course I brought him in, and was just giving him some lunch, when he said - "By the way, I brought your mail. I captured it at High River." And he pulled it out of his pocket. I saw the yellow cover of the "Weekly Times." And I asked the company to excuse me. I could not have opened it there and Walter was out of the room. I fled to my room, with the "Times", and never in my life, never did I read words with such thankfulness as "Liet. Higginson, wounded in the left arm." Oh, my darling boy, what thanks were in my heart, and have been from that blessed moment to this. That awful week was over in a flash. Walter came in to my room half a minute after, having heard that the mail had come. What we said or did I couldn't tell you, for the first few minutes but then he had to go back to his guests. It sounds rather odd perhaps to rejoice so wildly because you were wounded in the left arm, and severely wounded too: but if you knew what all my fears had been. You wouldn't wonder. And then in May's letter I heard that the Times had twice reported that all the wounded officers were doing well, and there was no danger. I made myself presentable and called up all the calmness I could, and marched back to the guests after luncheon. We talked about other things first, but of course I could no more have helped telling them than I could have flown. For the matter of that I was so stiff with pride and glory it's a wonder I could move leg or limb. They were all most awfully nice and sympathetic, and congratulated me so sincerely, on your safety and your gallant service, both - that at last I took your photo off my writing table and showed it to them. Oh my boy, but it was "a great day for Ireland!" and every morning I wake now, how it jumps into my head that Archie is safe before my eyes are open, and it's the last thing I think of at night, and all day long I'm simply skipping. It never occurred to my stupid mind until I read May's letter that you were not only in it, but actually in command, as after that terrible moment when you were all fired upon, and poor Colonel Bunney and Captain Browne were killed, you were the senior officer. I felt dazed even to think of it. The idea of our own Archie commanding from that moment, and stopping to shell Shirania, and keeping the men together, and finally bringing the guns and all at 11 o'clock at night in to [Dulla Khel?] - and with your poor wounded arm. The only thing I'm afraid of is that you may have fainted from the wound and the loss of blood, and been taken back unconscious by the other brave men, your own Sikhs. Anyway I'm glad that I said from the very beginning, when I hadn't the least idea of your being in command, that it was a glorious retreat. Oh, how I do long to hear your own account of it; - and to think of your sending that wire the very first thing so as to save Mother and all of us from suspense. Poor Colonel Bunney! You mustn't think I am so heartless as not to feel anything about his death and the other brave officers, in the middle of my thanksgiving for you, to God who kept your life safe while you walked through the Valley of the Shadow of death that day and night. What a place that Tochi Valley is! Walter sends you his love, and his heartfelt congratualtions, and he longs to see you. Your loving sister Nesta. |
