The Widow's Mail Order Husband (Mail Order Brides) (2 page)

Beginning a week after she had sent her ad off, she began watching her mail for some indication of interest. Today is the seventh day since she mailed her ad to The Matrimonial News. There was nothing again today. The eighth day brought nothing. On the ninth day, there was a copy of the paper along with a letter from the editor.

It read:
Dear Mrs. Cartwright: This is to inform you we are in receipt of your request for placement of an ad. You have been assigned account number 920. Please refer to this number in any correspondence. We will forward any letters responding to your ad. We will not release your name and or address until we receive written authorization from you. Thank you for your interest in our services.
The letter was signed by the editor.

Mary quickly scanned the paper for her ad. It was there. Her ad said “Widow, 32 years of age, 5’ 5” 125 lbs. Friends have told me I am pleasing to the eye. I have modest means and desire correspondence with a responsible man of same approximate age. Height and weight should be proportional. One or two children no barrier. Matrimony desired if suitable.”

“It seems so little to describe someone. How in the world will I be able to pick out a mate for life from such a short description,” she wondered. “It hasn’t cost anything thus far, I have nothing to lose… yet.”

Three weeks after the ad…

When the postman turned the ringer on her door, Mary dropped what she was doing and hurried to the door. She found three letters there referencing account number 920. The first one she opened, immediately triggered disgust. The writer asked for information regarding the extent of her means. “You’re going straight to the rubbish,” she said. The next letter was from a man in his forties. “Too much of an age difference,” she said. The writer of the third letter described himself as a widower, having lost his wife to pneumonia, thirty three years old with a five year old daughter. He said he was the owner of a thriving ranch Grapevine, TX. “I wonder how close Grapevine is to where Minerva lives?” she thought. “I would at least have someone close by I know. I think I’m going to answer this one.”

She sat at the small writing desk, dipped the quill into the ink and began to write. She told of having lost her husband in the late war, and then losing her parents. She did not mention which side her husband had fought for. She wrote about her love of music, and how she had supported herself by teaching in the local school and by making dresses for some of the wealthy citizens of Hagerstown. She told him where Hagerstown was and described the countryside. She indicated a desire for further correspondence, if he was so inclined. She left the letter in the kitchen for a day before deciding to mail it.

In a quandary over whether to proceed, she wandered through the home she had inherited from her parents. It was full of memories from her childhood, along with the few items she had from her shortened marriage to Joshua. “Do I want to give this up?” she asked herself. “I am secure here, I have my own home, my aunts, uncles, cousins, and my friends.” She laughed. “After the circle meeting, I probably have fewer of those now.”

Mary decided to talk to the banker who had handled the transfer of the deed to the house into her name. “Maybe he could give me some advice,” she thought. As she walked through the house, her mind drifted in another direction. “If I leave, could I come back here to live?” The question remained unanswered.

Going back to her mail, she found a letter from Minerva. In the letter Minerva told about her trip on the train to Fort Worth. It had been uneventful. The letter continued: “I was met at the station by my fiance (Isn’t that a nice word?) Chase Barlow. We had lunch at a cafe near the Fort Worth Stockyards. I know it sounds terrible, but it was actually quite good. Chase brings his cattle to market in the stockyards, so he knows most of the people.

“Chase is about 5’ 10” tall, dark hair and brown eyes. He is rather handsome, his face is tanned. He wears jeans and a Stetson hat. Mary, he even has a handgun! He’s quiet and suggested the lunch to get acquainted. After lunch, we walked to the justice of the peace and were married, We then rode to the ranch, located outside Bedford, a small community and about fifteen miles from Fort Worth.

“My dear friend, I am very happy. No more loneliness. I should have done this years ago. I wish you luck in your quest for companionship and don’t let Cora get to you. She means well, but doesn’t know better. Please write and let me know how you’re doing. (s) Your special friend, Minerva.”

“What a nice letter,” she thought. “I’m happy for her.  It encourages me. I’m going to follow through on this. I’m tired of living alone.” That afternoon, she went to the bank and spoke with Jasper Stirnbaum, with whom she had previously had dealings.

“Jasper, I’m thinking about getting married and it would involve my moving away. I’m wondering about my house. I don’t know whether I should sell it, and the contents or keep it and rent it. Is that something the bank could handle for me?”

“As a customer of the bank, you would have access to that type of service from the bank.” He cleared his throat. “There would be a small fee associated with the service. We could certainly handle the sale or we could manage the rental, and pay the associated taxes from the rental account. It would be necessary for you to maintain an account for that purpose. When will the ceremony take place?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met him yet, but I’m exploring the possibilities,” she said. He looked at her strangely. “I wonder what this is all about?” he mused to himself.

“Mrs. Cartwright, as your banker and friend, I would be remiss if I didn’t encourage you to proceed with extreme caution,” he said.

“I understand,” Mary said, “and I appreciate the advice. I shall be careful.” Mary returned home, buoyed by her actions of the day. She fixed dinner and ate… alone. “Hopefully, I won’t be eating alone much longer.” She reread the letter from the man whose name she did not know and who might be her husband. “Strange circumstances, but this is where the terrible war has brought us.”

Mary’s Home…

It was two weeks before she received an answer to her letter posted to account number 875. While waiting for answers to her ad, Mary continued her normal activities, such as church on Sunday, shopping, and dressmaking. She had also been going to the Ladies Sewing Circle. She did not mention her ad and subsequent correspondence. The subject of Minerva’s marriage and leaving Hagerstown was revisited when she mentioned the letter she had received from Minerva. “Minerva’s letter said she had married and was living on a cattle ranch near Fort Worth, Texas. She also said she was very happy and satisfied with her situation,” she reported.

“Well, I still think it was foolhardy to undertake such a thing,” Cora said. Of the eight other women present, two were nodding their heads in agreement. Two other ladies indicated they were happy for Minerva and while they would miss her, she had made the right choice. Mary was content to let the subject drop and the ladies moved on to other topics and events. Once again, not a stitch had been made by members of the Ladies Sewing Circle.

She had received no mail for the past week, and it had been two weeks since Mary had answered the letter from account number 875. Today she found a letter, the return address showing Kansas City, home of The Matrimonial News. Enclosed were two letters, one of which was from number 875. It read, “Dear Account Number 920, I am in receipt of your recent letter and take pen in hand to respond. I would be pleased to correspond with you further. My daughter, Emily, who’s five, and I live on a busy ranch outside of a small community near Grapevine Texas. We have a housekeeper who also helps in the care of Emily. Rosa, the housekeeper, has been with our family for years. It is a busy time of year for us on the ranch. We have been rounding up the cattle and branding the calves that were dropped over the winter. It has been a wet spring so the grass is abundant, and we don’t have to move the cattle as often as we do in dry years. The yearlings will fatten up during the summer and we will take most of them to market following our roundup this fall. Our daily work consists of riding the fence lines and repairing fallen fences when found.

“Our ranch house is rather large, and we have quarters for Rosa, and a bunkhouse for the ranch hands. We have a nice kitchen with water inside. My late wife and I had planned and hoped for a large family, so we built a large house in anticipation, When pneumonia took her from us two years ago, Emily and I were left with a large, unfilled house. I hope to change that. I look forward to your response. (s) Account 875.”

Mary read the letter through twice, taking particular interest in the personal facts. She sat at her desk, contemplating her answer. “Dear Account 875, Your much anticipated letter received. I live in an average size home I inherited from my parents, since I was an only child. Your home sounds lovely and the operation of the ranch is interesting. How do you get them to market?

“I have been a teacher in our local elementary school for several years and feel I get along well with children. What type of activity attracts Emily? Are there any friends nearby with whom she can play? We have some rather harsh winters here, but the summers are quite pleasant. What is your weather like?

“It seems as if I might be asking too many questions. I hope you don’t feel that way. I would like to share your interests also. I attend a Lutheran church regularly. I enjoy playing the piano. I also belong to one of the circles, The Ladies Sewing Circle. It really is a chance for the local women to get together and gossip. I suppose I would be the subject if they knew about my ad. Where do your interests lie? Do you have family close?”

She mailed the letter the same day and settled back to await an answer. Probably two weeks away. “I believe I will give the editor permission to release my name and address to number 875. We could cut the response time in half by writing directly,” she said to herself.

Two weeks later, her answer came. When she opened it, she read that his name was Thomas Hartness, and he lived in Grapevine, TX. “Grapevine. What an interesting name, I wonder about the origin? It seems our minds run on the same track, I’m going to release my name and address also. Now that I have his address, I can write to him directly.”

The rest of the letter was devoted to answering her questions. He had an older brother on a neighboring ranch. There were children on the ranches, but none close enough for the children to get together for playtime and Emily was too young to ride. He told her about driving his cattle to Fort Worth to market. That excited her because it meant she would be close enough to Minerva for occasional visits. The weather gets pretty hot in the summer, but the winters were usually fairly mild, with occasional snow that didn’t last long.

She responded directly to the letter, giving her name and address. Now, after one more letter, Thomas invited Mary to meet. He agreed to pay for transportation and also return transportation if she decided they were not compatible.

Mary went back to the bank. “Jasper Stirnbaum I’m traveling to Texas and might or might not return, but I will let you know what to do, once I decide. Any costs involved can be paid from the rental account. I will give your trust department the necessary authority.” She packed one trunk and arranged with a close friend to pack and ship her other items if she decided to stay in Texas.

Her ticket arrived in the regular mail along with funds to cover incidental expenses along the way. It would take three and one half days to make the trip. She would be leaving from the Hagerstown train station, change trains in Washington and from there to New Orleans, where she would change again for the westbound part of her trip.

Everything was packed and she was ready. The day before she was to leave, she went to the cemetery where her parents were buried to say goodbye. Her late husband, Joshua was buried in the National Cemetery in Gettysburg so there were no goodbyes to him. She did say a short prayer, asking for His blessing for what she was about to do..

The day arrived; she hired a carriage to take her, along with her baggage to the train station. When the conductor called, “All aboard”, she stepped onto the train steps, turned and looked back, and then stepped onto the train. Her car was the third from the engine, and when the engineer advanced his throttle, there was a loud hiss, then a cloud of steam floated past her window, her view was obscured by the black smoke from the smoke stack on the engine, so she could see little outside the car until they had gained enough speed for the wind to blow the smoke away. She could hear the clackety clack of the rails as the train passed over the joints of the rails. Almost before she knew it, the train was pulling into Washington. She transferred to the Richmond and Danville Railroad for their train to New Orleans, a trip of slightly less than two and one half days. It was to be a great adventure for Mary, who had never before been even fifty miles from Hagerstown. Now she was going halfway across the country.

Traveling through Richmond and Atlanta, she could see some of the ravages of the war that ended ten years earlier. She had a Pullman berth for the balance of her trip and took her meals in the dining car. With short stops in both Richmond and Atlanta, she was able to leave the train and walk around on the platform. She had to transfer trains again in New Orleans, but this would be the last time. She would be in Fort Worth the next morning.