These are the letters Charles Hilton wrote to his mother, Rebecca Hilton, at her home in Carleton, Nova Scotia. He wrote from California. The letters are dated from 1850 to 1858.

These Hilton Letters have been transcribed by his great-granddaughter Betty Lyser Powers, 2001. The originals have been donated to the Bancroft Library, U. C. Berkeley.

Charles Hilton's ancestors came from England, tracing back to 1066 where Sir William Hilton was Lord of Hilton Castle. The first Hilton to sail to America was also named William Hilton. It was in 1621, on the "H.M.S. Fortune". In England he was a freeman, and a fishmonger. In New England he was licensed to sell spirituous liquors.

Charles's parent's ancestors had taken part in a 1765 migration from Massachusetts. The governor offered each family member 100 acres to settle near Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. However, it was a bleak and damp terrain for farming and many Hilton men who took up fishing were lost at sea. Others died young of tuberculosis.

Charles Hilton hated the misery of logging and carpentry in such a harsh country so he was easily enticed to travel to the California Gold Rush in early 1850. He and his brother, Nathaniel, mined for gold near Marysville. Later he took up carpentering in Centerville, near San Jose, and settled there permanently.

Charles and his wife, Mary (Elizabeth Mary), sailed by clipper ship from Nova Scotia in 1855 with their five year old son, Charley, who later was one of the first students to attend the brand new University of California in Berkeley.

In addition to this son, there were two sisters. One was Alice Hilton Lyser, Charles Julius Lyser's mother. The other sister was Gertrude. Alice's mother (Elizabeth Mary) attended the baby shower given for Gail Lyser when she was pregnant with Charles Ralph Lyser in San Francisco in 1905.

The last letter in this group was from Rebecca, written to her son in 1865. She did indeed outlive all her children, dying at the age of 91. Charles died at the age of 43, from tuberculosis.

November 20, 1850

Barton's Bar. Yuba River. Up California

Honored Parents,

You are no doubt, by this time, anxious to hear from me and also I'm anxious to hear from home. I have received but one letter only since I left home and it is now almost a year.

The first thing you want to know is what I have been doing this summer, and I must begin at San Francisco.

Before we left that place, BB Redding received a letter from George Brecks (who was then in the mines) giving him directions and what course to take to the north, that adherence that if we follow his directions he would be responsible for a fair result.

This put us on our high heels, and off we started on the 12th of July.

We took passage on a steamer and went to Marysvill. (e) This is the head of steamboat navigation on the Yuba. About 240 miles from San Francisco. From this place we went to Foster's Bar on the Yuba River, about 50 miles further. Now there is three branches, or forks as they are called here: It's the Yuba River, middle and south forks and so to all the rivers which fork off the Sacramento.

However, I am going to tell you more about the country by and by.

To the middle fork of the Yuba we were borne, I myself, F. Dennis and B.B. Redding, C. Fox, C. Bap, B. Williams, A. White. On arriving at Foster's Bar I was taken sick of the Remmitant Fever.

I had for a day or so previous. Felt poorly but I did not know that a fever was coming on to me or I would have warded it off.

I was obliged to go to the Hospital of Dr. Martin. And thanks to a kind providence which had me thither or I would be mouldering in the dust. Frees (A friend named Freeman) stayed with me but the rest went on, but returned again in about a week, as they did not find Brecks as they expected.

We did hear from him afterwards. It seems that in climbing the mountain he fell and hurt his knee and so could not get to the place.

I was at Dr. Martin's 40 days (now look out, California) which cost me three hundred and twenty dollars. I had the best of care taken of me and was treated with much kindness.

The Doctor seemed to take a likeing to me somehow or other, and did not charge me so much by two dollars a day as he did the rest of his patients. He even gave me medicine to the amount of 6 or 7 dollars after I left him. Freeman went to work for ten dollars a day. He also was a friend indeed and waited on me in many ways.

I got reduced to a mere skeleton and it took me a long time to get my strength; I did not do a days work until the first of Oct. Then I thought it best to come down to Beng Bar (This is the first diggings on the Yuba and 15 miles above Marysville) for here I could live much cheaper than I could up in the mountains.

B.B. Redding was at this place with his Brothers-in-law, the Putnams.

About this time we got ready to start to Foster's. Freeman was taken sick with Diarrhea. We came however to Long Bar and it came my turn to wait on him. He did not work for three or four weeks.

I gained strength fast but it took me a long time to get my usual strength, and indeed I have not got it yet, although I am well and hearty and never was stouter in my life.

After remaining here for some time, we came up here to Barton's Bar where we found Robert Hilton (brother or cousin), Cookie Brown, and Jack Killam. Killam had been sick all summer. He has left the mines now and gone to Sac.

I went to work soon and brought on a lameness in my side which troubled me for a good while and I have not fairly got rid of it yet. I have now been at work four weeks steady at eight dollars a day.

It costs me about eight dollars a week for board. Previous here cost a great deal I will send you the prices current.

And now I must tell you a little about the country. After leaving the bay of San Francisco on each side of the river for a few miles the land is high. The hills are covered with wild oats and not a tree to be seen. Others are studded with fine-looking oaks. Here and there are to be seen groves of them which resemble an orchard, and indeed the whole has the appearance of fine-looking fields and orchards.

After leaving the hills, then comes the valley of Sacramento as far as the eye can see. On each side of the river is a level plain, covered with grass and here and there a sturdy oak. It is a most delightful looking place as the plains extend up the river about 250 miles. The country then rises into the hills and then Gold is found in some of these hills, in small particles. High up the river, in deep ravines amoung the mountains it is sometimes found in large quantities, pieces as large as the end of your thumb.

I will send you a specimen of the gold we find here at Barton's Bar. The higher you go up the river the larger the gold; until it is found in lumps as large as I mentioned above.

And now I will explain to you what is meant by a Bar. The river is steep and it rages winding it's way amoungst the mountains and hills. Along the sides of it are steep and cragged rocks.

Now and then along the river, or on the sides of the river; a large flat, and perhaps a sand bar. Here, for ages past, the stones and dirt have been winding down the river and formed what we call a Bar.

In such places as this, a number of persons locate themselves and go diging. And then there will be two or three boarding houses erected, and a store or two, according to the number of persons on the bar.

We never tire of looking in the sand for gold as it will not stop there. It seems to me that some of these bars have been formed by land slips. There is something about this gold diging that I cannot explain. One person may be diging and close by the side of another and get nothing while the other is doing quite well.

When you hear about the mines of California; you hear only one side of the story. You hear only of those who do well; whilst you hear nothing of those who do not earn their bread. This you may not hardly understand; but let me tell you there had been this summer a great deal of daming done. I mean turning the river to get the gold from it's bed. A race is dug through the bar and the river turned into it. This often proves a total failure and in this way a great many people loose their whole summer's work. Just so with Robert Hilton. (Editor: A brother or cousin?)

Also, W. Cook and G. Beam. They went into the daming and lost their summer work. I have been sick and lost mine. If I had had my health I might have sent home six hundred dollars with ease. Many go off aprospecting (that is) searching for gold, and spend what little they have, and finding nothing at all and to wind up; thousands drink and squander away all they can.

The climate in California, I believe is quite healthy, I think that according to the number of people in the mines, few die I do not know that.

There is a great deal of sickness in San Francisco; but at Sacramento I hear it is quite sickly indeed.

There is some kind of disease which they call Cholera, that is taking off about fifteen a day. Sacramento City is located on a low flat and last spring when the snow melted and run from the mountains (this is the time when the waters are highest in the rivers) it was quite overflown and this summer they were obliged to build a leavy round the city in order to keep the floods from coming in upon them. This city is about 160 miles up the river from San Francisco.

And now about society here. This I may say is awful. Every boarding house and store is a grog shop. I make no exception. There is an awful sight of drunkeness here.

The Sabath is profaned in a most shocking manner.

The people in California seem to have forgotten that there's God. If human nature does not show itself here, I know not where it does. I endeavor to avoid all bad camps.

There are but few persons here who do not drink. I've a story to tell you if I live to see you again. About a drunken chap who came to our tent in the middle of the night. I have never regretted that I came to this country although the privations I have to endure are very great. Were it not for the great temptations here, and the leaving home of Christian Society and Christian friends I would almost advise any young man to come to California but as the state of things are so I will not advise any person.

I should like a letter from home very much. We cannot get our letters here. I know not where they go to. There..in the mines our letters cost one dollar and a half a person. A man takes our names and gets our letters from the office at San Francisco and brings them to us. Robert got one the other day from Albert. (cousin) This was a great satisfaction to us.

We have no rain here for six months. Not even a little dew. This is what spoils the country. Some of the vallies are very fertile; but the plains are very dry and parched throughout the summer.

I should have written before but I did not want to write until I got well because it would give you a great deal of uneasiness. I assure you I am well and hearty.

Capt. Bouve starts for the states tomorrow and takes this letter for me. I hope you will get it.

A word to Nat. I want you to write me a letter and tell me all about your little affairs. A word more for yourself, mother. The apples you gave me when I came away, I will tell you all about when I see you. I used to take pleasure in looking at those hymns which you marked for me. That book I left at San Francisco I hope to get it again.

I hope to get a letter from you. I should be pleased with one from May and Thirza. (his sister) Give my kind regards to all the people of Carleton.

Adieu, Adieu

Charles Hilton

Prices current:

June 26th. 1852

Mission de San Jose, Cal.

Dear Mother,

Yours of the 27th of April came to hand last night. I was right glad to receive a letter from you and as you did not praise it any yourself I believe I must do so, and just allow me to say, that the letter was a plainly written letter, very well edited, and filled with matter that interested me.

We had preaching at the Mission today. Mrs. C. Scot and Robert was here. Mrs. Scot handed me a letter from cousin Stephen Hilton, I was almost at a loss to know which way it came, at first but it struck my mind at once that Frederick must have brought it. I was not a little disappointed and vexed, when Robert informed me that his brother and Frederick had arrived in San Francisco and gone straight for the mines without coming a few miles out of their way.

They must have been a little looney (deranged) if they strike a fortune here in California, they will be but two amoung thousands.

I think it is nothing more than likely but they will have a few things to learn to be content with doing "well" : California is certainly a great place for a poor man or for a young man to commence for himself, but as for getting rich right off, I have about given up on that idea for myself. So as to my settling in California, I don't know yet, as to working for a livelihood where I came from, I have about given up that idea altogether, I cannot do it.

I earned more last year than I could earn at home in ten. Yes, ten times ten. I could have done nothing other. I do not think of staying in California all my lifetime unless all my Father's family could be here too. I plainly see that I shall have to stop a few years yet, but as I do not want to live alone any longer; I believe I must send for my wife. If she is willing to come I shall certainly send for her and I shall try hard to get her out next fall.

I don't know but I shall have her come round the Horn. I believe it would be safe and pleasant and some of those clipper ships make it in one hundred days. As for coming that way they may bring as much luggage as they please but by the Isthmus, they can take but little, and are in danger of losing that. T'is hard Mother, to be separated from those whom we love, and that for so long a time, but to have remained at home would have resulted in a family of children and nothing to feed, clothe and educate them with, when I think about it I am glad I made my escape when I did.

I look back, dear Mother, on your own life, since my remembrance, a life of toil and sorrow, bearing the burthern of a large family.

I remember that summer when we built our old log house there in the forest about seventeen years ago.

Would that it had been built in a more congenial climate. I was going to say something else concerning it but t'is no use to rehearse it. I still live in the hope of helping you to a little money in hope that you and my father may spend your old age in ease.

Everyone writes to me complaining of hard times. I know not what you are to do unless you can get away from there. I wish I had the money to bring David and Amy, they could save, each of them, six hundred dollars a year at least, as for Nat (brother named after his father) he must be stupid; instead of enduring hardships of the sea, why does he not come to California, where if he has to endure hardship he will be rewarded for it.

If he says he can't, I got here, he knows nothing about it. It's just as easy for him to come to California as for a ship to come around Cape Horn. If he wants to come he must go to Boston or New York and get a berth.

I'm still at work for Beard at 1000 a year, couldn't earn that much at home could I Mother? Not quite, methinks I hear you say.

I am not altogether satisfied with my wages, I ought to have a hundred a month, but he knows I will stay for what I get, and of course will not give me more.

We have a new minister here now who has come to stop if he can to gain support. (Presbyterian)

This is a most beautiful place situated high up under the mountain, about a mile above the plains. A more healthy place never was. I believe t'is well that I came to this place.

This afternoon we had a little thunder and some rain, quite an uncommon thing for this country.

June 25th yesterday I was quite unwell; today I have been at work, but do not feel very well, tonight I shall take about six pills and come out bright again in the morning. I don't like to be sick, I have seen most too many sick days in Cal. I have been at work on these old houses ever since the middle of April. I expect to work on them all summer.

I wish Bob Kelly here to work with me. I have just finished a room for the minister. (Brier)

Oh, how mad Bob was to think Albert did not come to see him.

T'was too bad. I believe I must wind up this letter. I suppose I ought to write to Amy, and to David, and I suppose sister would like one, it appears to me I have written a bushel of letters since I've been from home.

I get letters now from home most every mail, that is a great comfort to communicate with each other and yet so widely separated.

You ask a question which I can answer in one way, t'was this:

When shall we meet again?

When immortal spirits reign

Then shall we meet again,

This is my hope, this is my joy

Adieu

Your offc Son, Charles

If I had time I should write this letter over and correct it a little.

Jan. 8, 1854

Alameda, Ca

My Dear Mother,

It has been so long since I wrote to you that I am almost ashamed to name it but you will pardon me for I write many letters and my dear wife must have one every mail. Tis not that I do not think of you that I do not write; No! mother, you are seldom out of my mind.....My health is pretty good.

Sometimes I get to thinking about my old friends in Yarmouth, and my heart almost aches to see them again. But if I should come home and satisfy my desire to see them again, the novelty in a fortnight would be gone, I should be without means to gain a livlihood and wish myself back in California. So I conclude then that I had better stay where I am.

This is a very pleasant country and I cannot bear the idea of going back to Yarmouth and living there. I am doing a good business and to leave it at present I could not, even if I had a desire to do so.

I must certainly have my wife another summer if our lives are spared. Oh, mother, you cannot tell how I feel about it, sometimes I feel as though it would rack my brain, when tedious and long is our separation, can I bear it longer?

I feel I am compelled to do so, therefore I nerve up and keep hoping she is a good soul mother, and I love her as I do my life, and I should like to see that boy of mine too. He was about 10 months old when I left, now the way I count he is five years old.

Dear little soul, how I can hardly dismiss from my mind still I wonder if Thirza would like to come with my wife. I suppose you would not like to have her leave you.

I should like to have her come, or any of the rest of the family.

Poor Sarah Scott is here no more. The Lord gave and then taken away. She was a great addition to our society here. Young ladies scarce and we highly prize them, alas her sun went down at noon.

Our society is now very good. We have breaking eve Sabbath, no Sabbath school yet. We shall build a church as soon as we have the means. Our winter is very dry and cold. It is the coldest I have seen for the last four years. It froze water last night to the thickness of half and inch.

When I think what happened in my lifetime in Carleton I always have contempt for the place. On the cold and dreary nights I spent on the lakes, in the forest and in the Low Mills, well mother, to sum it all up, I intend to take this world as easy as possible and try to prepare for a better one for that I know t'will profit me nothing if I gain the whole world and lose my soul therefore I intend to live as much...it is in me to keep God's Holy Commandments, to live soberly, rightiously, and Godly, in this present evil world....

Remember me to Aunt Gabe, Seymour, and Uncle Lee. Give my regards to Mr. and Mrs. Churchill and family. I have not forgotten their kindness, yet shall I so long as I live; remember me to Aunt Hannah, Elizabeth and Cousin Lydia. O by the by there is Aunt Hilton and Aunt Aliba. Greet Eunice with a kiss for me and so Farewell,

Charles

Feb 25, 1854

Alameda, Cal.

Dear Mother,

It almost seems to me that I neglect you, but that is not my intention.

I really get tired of writing, but that is a poor excuse for my not writing to you oftener. I got no letters last mail but got one which brought us the news of the Death of our sister Eunice.

We feel it much but I am persuaded that you must feel her loss much more than we in California.

Four years in California brings a change in such feelings still we deeply feel her loss. I hope the Lord is present to you in these days of affliction. Although we change, the Lord changes not, I can sympathize with you..Dear Mother, your affliction of being deprived of so many of your children, and also of my Dear Father (he died in 1853), may the Lord bind up your wounded heart, I often repeat to myself these lines, "Jesus, of my soul, let me to thy bosom fly."

I am anxious to get letters. I want to know what has become of the dear children (Eunice's), if you could take care of them, they shall not want as long as I have a penney to divide with them, you may think it strange but I wish from the bottom of my heart that if I had them here I would take care of them with the greatest love. That is, if I had my wife too. O, Mother what changes have taken place since the last four years, it hardly appears to me like a reality.

I should have shuddered at the idea, when I left home of not seeing my wife and child for more than five years but so it is; the years pass rapidly by, I can see it now, how true it is; that our lives are but a vapour that appear for a season and then vanish away. Tis of no use for me to tell you, if I was able I would certainly invite you to come and see me.

I am sure you would be delighted with this country and climate. May we live to see that day yet, I am tired tonight, and put my letter aside to finish another time. So Good Night.

Sunday Evening 26th.

This has been our sunniest day, that is a most delightful season with us here about. We only number ten communicants but we dwell together in unity. There is a fine prospect to building up a larger church in a few years. People come to their senses when they find they cannot make a large fortune and they are now paying more attention to their schools and to things that concern the public in general, and to the building of society.

Our society has been good but there are those who break the Sabbath and the like but on the whole society is good. I have since commencing this letter written to my other mother(?), for the first time in California.

I have never written to David but they have never written to me, are they waiting for me to write first?

Listen, Mary has not written for a long time, nor Thirza either. Ah! This is hard being so far away from each other, ar'nt it Mother?

And I do not see any prospects of it being anywise yet awhile and here I believe I shall end my letter. Love to all. Remember me to Mrs. Churchill and her family when you shall see them. I cannot forget friends and I'm sure they will not forget me.

Write soon, Adieu;

Charles

Jan 26, 1855

San Jose, Calif.

My Dear Mother,

My last letter from home brought the news of the death of another of our member. I cannot help crying, alas, alas, that another of our number should be thus diminished and that his sun thus left to go down at noon. I write to tell you not of what you have lost but what you cannot lose.

I trust you are interested in the promises of the Gospel and therefore are not ready to sink under your trials. And while troubles abound, consolations in Christ abound. Were I to fill these pages with these topics I could suggest nothing but what you already know. I sincerely sympathize with you. I cannot comfort you but God can. May he bind up your broken heart. You are not alone in affliction. The world's full of misery.

I think of those mothers who have lost sons in that great war of the Crimea, how many will mourn the loss of husbands, sons, fathers and daughters? Your grief, it seems to me could not be as great as those who went down to death in the Artic.

On a small steamer which blew up in the bay of San Francisco, a whole family was swept away. Such casualties are too numerous to mention so do not imagine your grief to be any larger than the other person's. The Lord gives and the Lord taketh away, Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Being too tired last night, I have been tempted this morning to get up at half-past five in order to scratch you off a few lines. You must put up with a short letter, for I have much to do. I will come home by and by I shall be done. This letter writing I should like well but a person who works here is generally too nervous to write well.

My health is pretty good. I am anxious to be on my way home. Oh, how I long to see my wife and child again. How hard it is to be this separated, if my life and health is spared I should be home perhaps in June.

I think you might look for me at any rate, in July. August most certain will be my latest.

I am doing well at present, I feel loathe to leave my situation here but perhaps it twill be as well. A healthier place can hardly be, the climate is truly magnificent. The society of good friends ought to counterbalance all these advantages...I see when I get there...I have got to sacrifice a good deal when I leave. but never mind, the matter is settled in my mind.

Yours Truly, Charles

Remember me to Aunt Hannah and Uncle Smith

Oct. 4, 1855

New York

Dear Mother,

We arrived in this City on Monday 1st. inst., safe and sound, Mary was quite sea sick crossing the bay to Boston yet stood it very well indeed. Charley stood it like an old sailor; hardly lost his appetite.

He is much taken with the strange sights, which he sees. Mary does not like the noise of the city. We were into Barnums and Mensius yesterday. I was into the great Trinity Church. I saw a much larger church in Panama last Spring. Trinity Church seats about twelve hundred only the Spanish Catholic churches have no seats. The people neel and sit on the floor.

We leave tomorrow in the STAR OF THE WEST (clipper ship) for California via Nicaragua. I may write again from San Juan.

We are quite well feel as well as when we left Yarmouth.

You should hear from us often.

The general health of the passengers is good, the only difficulty now seems to be this, there are always so many imprudent ones who bring a sickness amongst the passengers by eating and drinking Brandy and abusing themselves in this way, that it may be by the time we are two or three days on the other side, there may be sickness among us a little. I hope not.

We are hardly in yet-if there is anything of importance to say after we get in I will scratch it down.

Kind regards to all,

Charles

11 o'clock 19 October; We start up the river in fine glee.

Oct. 17, 1855

Greytown, Nicaragua

Dear Mother,

I wrote to you from New York that we should sail on the 5th which we did, and have had a pleasant voyage to Nicaragua, although a long one. We should have made the voyage in about eight days, yet we have been over twelve. They have delayed the time, they say, in order to meet the steamer on the other side-this is occasioned by their changing their time of sailing from the 5th to the 9th.

We have had a first rate time so far-our health is good. Mary doesn't like the heat, hopes it's not so hot in California.

We stopped at Kingston, (Jamaica) on Saturday 13th left on again on Sunday morning-was there 20 hours. Saw the Darkies and got some fruit-I wish I could have sent you some of those fine oranges.

Mary was sick for a day or two after we left New York but her health is good which is a blessing and comfort to us all. The Lord be praised.

I like the appearance of the ship. We have a stateroom to ourselves. I almost begin to feel homesick already. I have not asked Mary how she feels about it.

I hope we shall go safe. Goodness and Mary has followed me this far.

My trust is in God, who made heaven and earth-who holds the winds in his fists and measures the waters in the hollows of his hands, even the wind and seas obey him.

Goodby from Charles

[Early 1856?]

Centerville, Calif.

Dear Mother,

I hardly know how to begin my letter. We have not received a single line from any of you since we left Yarmouth and were it not for the Yarmouth Herald we should be in complete ignorance of what is transpiring among you.

I'm sure I hope you will not refuse to drop us a line now and then; we like to hear from you.

I am glad to inform you that we are well. I think we are in possession of a more than usual amount of good health. Mary looks better by far than when we left. She won't acknowledge it though that she likes California but I know she does.

I have got back again the old Book. I mean Newton's Works. I shall keep it now because it was a gift of my Father.

I show them all my mother's likeness. You would laugh to hear their remarks that it draws forth. One say ain't she a good looking old lady. Another what black eyes she has. Another she is a little short lady. And so on the whole it is a very fine picture.

I tell them that is a mother what is a mother. I like to look at it myself pretty often. Charley gets it out very frequently to look at.

I am now building me a house. We will get into it in about a month. And then we will neither borrow or lend. I feel perfectly satisfied that we came back to this country although at some future period I may return again to Yarmouth-at present I am perfectly content.

You will see by the date of my letter that we have had another Christmas here. We spent that evening at a Ladies Tea party-had a good time. That makes six times that Christmas has been round, since I first left for California. How fast they glide away.

We have not heard yet, wether or not Thirza is married. I suppose you are getting along in the good old way--so are we. The folks are all well so we are all rightside up with care.

Lovingly from Charles

Oct. 17, 1856

Centerville, Alameda County

Dear Mother,

Tis now more than a year since I left Yarmouth. Now like all natur the time slips by. I wonder how you are all getting along in your usual quiet way I suppose. I get but few letters from any of you nowadays.

I suppose the reason is that I write but a few myself somehow, I don't feel like writing so many letters-as I used to before I got my wife here with me.

Nathanial and Albert have been down from the mines to pay us a visit although I had not seen Albert for more than six years, yet I knew him just as easy as could be.

They are doing very well indeed where they are at work in the mines. Nat has been doing first rate and is keeping himself straight as a Loon's leg. They are both Sons of Temperance. I should be glad if I thought bro. Nat was striving as hard to lay up treasures in Heaven as he is on Earth.

We have a fine Babe, Mother, a real little steeltrap, just enough of the Finkham blood in her to make her smart. She is now six months old, has several teeth but is rather small for her age. Mary wishes she had you to take care of the Babe sometimes.

Mary is preserving some grapes (?) today. Don't you wish you were here too mother? We live in a very pleasant neighborhood, with the Schoolhouse and the Church within a stone's throw. We have one evening a week devoted to our Division of the Sons of Temperance.

Tis so long that I have written a letter that I have almost forgotten how to write if I ever knew.

I get the Herald every month which keeps us posted on all the affairs of Yarmouth.

We do not look many years ahead to what we shall do. The present absorbs all our attention. Yes, we get along much easier than we could possibly do in Yarmouth, that we are content.

I think I'll not write a long letter this time but save some for

another occasion. We shall be glad to hear from you anytime.

Kind regards to all.

I remain your son, C. Hilton

July 25th, 1858

Centerville

Dear Mother,

Your last letter I received just before Mr. Freeman (Frees?) left for home so I haven't written and a good deal of procrastination. I have neglected to write until now.

I hope none of you will think I intend any disrespect or that anything is not well with you because I write no oftener, such is not my feelings. I want to see you very much.

I think you said something about Amos not having written. I have never received a letter from him yet. I would like to know how he is getting along with his carpentering. I am glad he went into that business, the best thing he could have done. I don't know but I shall invite him out to see me next year..I'll see about it.

I have not had a line from Nathan. Mr. Freeman is with you by this time. I esteem him highly.

We are all first rate, in good health and number five in a family. Mary has never been so well for years..and the baby grows like a weed. Don't know what we shall call her..maybe Agnes. (Note: she was named Alice and grew up to become Charles Julius Lyser's mother, and Editor Betty Lyser Powers' grandmother.)

Gertrude is rather a tender plant and she is yelling quite strong and hearty. And how mischevious. "My sakes" and talks and teases.

Goodness Sake, I never saw any child quite like her. She is very smart tho, mother, she gets your likeness as often as she can and says dama when she cannot reach it from the table and she says, Papa, I wont dama, I wont to see dama.

Thirza complains that I do not write although I suppose Mary does, altho I cannot see for the life of me why this letter won't do for the three of you. I am sure it will. Somehow or other my time seems to be taken, I seldom have a spare moment.

I plan to get rich enough one of these days to come over and pay you a visit then we can make it all right.

Sam'l Ellenwood (a cousin on mother's side) is here and rather unwell..he wants to go back home, thinks he will never be able to work again; I am sorry. t'will be very bad for him.

I got a letter from Nat the other day, he seems to be at the old business of mining. I must write him tomorrow.

Mary sends her love and send she intends to write, I hope she will be tempted to do so pretty soon.

How is your Church, mother? Prospering, I hope. May you be strong in the Lord.

I am sick at heart with our church affairs here. I dislike our pastor very much. I think he sets a very bad example before the people and it does seem to me there is a real pity the church is at a low ebb. I dislike the New School very much and can barely bear to remain in connection with them....and I would not do so if I could in any way better myself.

Kind Regards to All, Adieu

From your Son, Charles

May 15, 1865

Carleton, Nova Scotia

My Dear Son,

I received your kind letter of April 5th with your Photograph and now what shall I say. I believe my health is pretty good, but I feel crushed to the earth wave after wave has rolled over me one tear is scarcely dried when another is ready to flow.

I have always said that I never expected to see you again but I find now that there was a secret hope after all. Life is very uncertain, before this reaches Cal, we may both be in our Father's house in the Mansion Christ has gone before to prepare for all such He has redeemed by his blood.

I feel myself to be an unworthy sinner and they are the very ones Christ came into the world to save. If we trust Him to save us we are safe.

Our Blessed Savior said I will come again, and receive you unto myself,, that where I am, there you may be also. Charles, can you now say with some of the holy transport of the apostle, When having not seen we Love? What must it be when you come to see Him face to face, And never, never sin. There from the rivers of his grace Drink endless pleasures in.

You say that you do not despair of getting well again neither do I despair but I must say I fear you are not the one that I marked out to go out after Dear Mary (not his wife), it was Amos, he always appears to me to have a consumptive look. One goes after another. If I live ten years longer I should not wonder if I outlive all my children.

(Note: Rebecca died 26 years later. Charles died in 1866, the very next year.)

Nathaniel sailed from London, 8th of March for Sidney. I have not heard from him since.

I believe all the people in Carleton are pretty well except Hannah Belen, she is almost gone in consumption.

Amis Saunders (Once Amice Hilton) left Yarmouth last week for California. She promised me that she would call and see you.

I came home from Yarmouth last week and I had been down almost four weeks. I was down to see Stephen Hilton poor man has passed away since to that bright world where there is no pain or sickness.

He has left a large helpless family. I have been trying to stimulate the church to help them.

When I am dead there will be a little property belonging to your Children.

You will say this is very little, tis no less theirs because too little, I long to see them, Dear little girls of yours.

I am told that they are pretty, but never shall see them in this world. I want you to live to take care of your family. The Lord has granted my request in that respect. I always prayed that I might live long enough to take care of my children until they were big enough to take care of themselves.

I suppose that you have my likeness yet, well there is very little alteration in it now, folks say theres none.

May 11th. We are all in usual health today. Amos came up day before yesterday to work a little while in his mill. He is looking pretty well just now. Don't expect to stop up but a week. I feel very lonely since I came up from town. I would like very well to live down there but it's no use--here is my living and here I must stay.

I shall make butter and cheeses usual this summer if I live. I can make a very good living and have a little to lay up at the year's end. I have some money out on interest.

Carleton has changed in appearance considerable within ten years especially down about the mills. There is a large building for machinery been erected over the stream where old Mr. Daniel Raymond's saw mill stood. There is two more buildings on the other side. They seem to be carrying on quite a business down there.

Charles W. it seems has not forgotten me. I feel glad he remembers me. I was afraid he had forgot me altogether. I can't conceive the reason why he never sends me a line or a word any way well maybe he will by and by when he gets ready.

I don't have any more to write. I feel as if I could command you all and my self with you to a convenant keeping God.

I hope to hear from you again soon.

Lovingly,

Mother