Birthday Letters

By Marion

December 2, 18‹

Ben Cartwright sat alone by the fire. His children, all four of them, were in bed, asleep. Even Hop Sing was asleep, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts. Ben's niece, Annie, had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past couple of days, and Ben thought he knew why. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she probably figured that no one knew. As if he could forget, he thought as he stared at the bundle of envelopes on his lap. Sighing, he picked up the first one.

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December 3, 18‹
St. Louis, MO

Dear Ben,

I can scarcely contain my trembling as I write this letter. I am a FATHER! Kathleen was safely delivered of a beautiful baby girl after 13 hours of labor. I think I wore a hole in front of the fireplace pacing, for of course I was allowed nowhere near my beloved during the wait. I argued in vain, the midwife would brook no argument. I heard the baby cry, and could not wait any longer. I think I would have broken down the door if the midwife refused me entry.

My daughter (oh, how my breath catches as I write those words) is a beautiful, healthy child. We have named her Anna Marie, Anna for Kathleen's mother and Marie for your beautiful wife. Kathleen still speaks of the kindnesses Marie showed her while we stayed in New Orleans with you. Anna Marie is 18inches and weighs 7 lbs. Kathleen insisted I tell you that, she said Marie would want to know.

Kathleen is, I thank God, well, although she is exhausted. She is more beautiful to me today than she has ever been before, although she says she looks frightful. I think she was worried that I would be disappointed that the baby was a girl, but who could be disappointed in perfection? It's not as if the Cartwright name will disappear ­ you and John have made sure of that! If the baby had been a boy, we would have named him Joseph after Father. That alone makes me glad to have a girl ­ I can't picture myself scolding Joseph Cartwright! I shall leave the name to you and Marie.

I was glad to receive your latest letter. I was especially glad to hear that Adam is finally behaving himself with Marie. From what you write, I think you have another Benjamin Cartwright on your hands. Remember how stubborn you were as a boy (unlike me, I never gave Father a moment's trouble.) How I would love to see you standing in front of him, lecturing him as Father used to lecture us! I think somewhere Father is laughing.

I hope all is well for you and your family. Please tell Marie that we pray for her safe delivery when her own confinement comes. Would that we could live near each other that our children might be close as cousins should be. Our love to Marie, Adam and Eric. With great affection,

Your brother,
Papa Ed!

December 3, 18‹
St. Louis, Missouri

Dear Ben,

I can scarcely believe it has been one year since Anna Marie was born. She is incredibly beautiful; although Kathleen tells me I am prejudiced in the baby's favor. I think she is the image of her mother except that her hair is dark, like mine, not red like her mother's. I had hoped that meant she also did not inherit her mother's Irish temper, but it would seem that is not to be. She already shows a strong will that does not bode well for the future. Kathleen tells me she has a Cartwright temperament, but I am not sure what she means as we are the most mild mannered of men.

Annie, as we call her, is already walking and she can say a few words. She is already constantly in mischief, and Kathleen cannot leave her alone for a minute. Last week, Kathleen turned her back for a minute and Annie pulled over her knitting basket. When Kathleen turned around, my little angel was poking at the cat with the knitting needle!

How is Marie doing, and little Joseph? How glad I am to hear that name continued, for Joseph Cartwright was a good man, even if I am only beginning to appreciate all that he did. I find myself becoming more like him, and I think that will only get worse as Annie gets older. I suspect she will keep us on our toes, and I thank God that Kathleen is by my side.

We are considering moving west to California. I do not know how much longer I can stay in this city, and witness the slavery that goes around us. It is a dreadful thing, and I do not wish my daughter to grow up seeing humans being sold as chattel.

I shall write more, soon. Tell Adam that the book I have enclosed is for him. I remember Elizabeth loved Shakespeare, and I have this volume that you and she gave me for Christmas many years ago. I thought it might do the boy some good, having something that his mother once held. I don't know how you raised them by yourself for so many years, but I'm sure that you are grateful for Marie by your side now. My love to Marie, Adam, Eric and Joseph. Your loving brother,
Ed

December 3, 18‹
St. Louis, Missouri

Dear Ben,

Two years already since my little girl was born. I call her my little girl, for she is no longer a baby. Annie continues to grow, and I can see the changes from day to day. You may not know this, but she is undoubtedly the most beautiful little girl that ever lived. She is also the smartest, cleverest girl! Kathleen laughs when I say this.

Please excuse the ink stains on the paper. Annie decided she wanted to help her papa write a letter. She hasn't quite mastered the ink well, however. Kathleen has taken her to wash up.

Annie continues to be mischievous. I actually had to spank her last week. I thought my heart would break with her tears, but I had no choice. Kathleen told her to pick up her toys. Not only did Annie refuse, but she threw a block at Kathleen's head! I saw the whole thing and I picked her up and put her over my knee. I only spanked her two times, but the tears were pitiful. Yet, she must learn to be obedient and respectful. Now I know I sound like Father! I swore I would never sound like him, but I understand why he raised us as he did, and I can only hope to do half as good a job as he did. I remember laughing when you said that to me after you spanked Adam the first time. But, it's true.

Speaking of Adam, please send him our congratulations on winning the school spelling bee. You must be so proud of him. Thank you for the pictures you sent. I can't believe how much Adam looks like Elizabeth and how much Eric looks like Inger. Eric sounds so much like his mother, too, so gentle and loving.

We are saving our money now so that we can move West. I hope you will consider coming with us, Ben. I fear the unrest that is being caused by slavery and I want to protect my family.

Love to all, your brother

Ed.

December 3, 18‹
St. Louis, Missouri

Dear Ben,

Can you believe ­ three years since Anna Marie came into our lives! And, joy of joys, I am to be a father again! God willing, Kathleen will be delivered of our child next May. She has been tired, more so than I remember with Annie, but she insists it's because she has a child to carry and a child to chase now. I hope for a large family, and we are well on our way.

Speaking of on our way, I had hoped that next summer would find us on our way out west, but I think we will have to wait another year. I do not think it wise to travel with a newborn baby. I know you did it with Eric, but I remember you writing that you wished there had been another way. The trail is fraught with enough danger, but I don't need to tell you that.

We had a pleasant surprise last summer. John showed up on our doorstep. Martha and Will were not with him, he left them behind in Ohio. He is going to try his hand looking for gold. He hopes to make his fortune and then return home for Martha and Will. I think however, that the wanderlust has hit him again, and I wonder when he will return home. I tried to make him see that his first responsibility was to his wife and son, but you know how it is talking with John sometimes.

I must go now. Annie is waking and I want Kathleen to sleep. I am off to battle with a three year old! Love to Marie, Adam, Eric and Joseph.

Affectionately,

Your brother Ed

December 3, 18‹
St. Louis, Missouri

Dear Ben,

I scarcely have the energy to take up my pen to write this letter, and yet, as you said in your last letter, I must somehow continue, if only for Annie's sake. I don't know how you did this twice. Treasure Marie, for the love of a woman is a gift from God.

Today is Annie's fourth birthday and I don't feel like celebrating. Yet, as you have told me, Annie has lost her mother, and I mustn't make her feel like she has lost her father as well. I am having a small party, just Annie and myself and the family next door. They have been the souls of goodness and without them, I hate to think of what would have happened when I lost Kathleen and our son.

I thank you for the kind offer of moving to New Orleans to be with you. I know Marie would do her best to mother Annie, but I think I cannot move south. I have made my mind up to go West next spring and I am studying the emigrant guides now. I have saved enough money to take the journey and I'm already buying supplies. How I wish you would consider coming with me.

Love to all,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
San Francisco, California

Dear Ben,

Thank you for your last letter. I am glad you received my last letter that told you that we reached California safely. San Francisco is a small town, but I expect great things of it. The harbor is beautiful and deep, permitting large ships to sail in and out of its golden gates. The ships speak to me of our past sailing days. Sometimes I miss sailing on the ocean, but one look at my companion and I am glad to be on shore.

Annie is five today. Her mother would be so proud of our little girl. She was so brave on the journey west, enduring trials that reduced older women to tears. Of course, she was also quite a terror when she wanted to be. I remember one time she wandered off and I found her a few hours later playing with some Indian children. When I thought of what could have befallen her! I was furious and she spent the next couple of days confined to the wagon, not that she felt like sitting on the seat beside me. I am afraid I had to spank her more than once on the trail, as she would not always listen to my orders. It broke my heart every time, but in this land, disobedience could mean death and so I steeled myself to her tears, lest I should lose her.

We are living in a boarding house here in San Francisco. The owner is a kind widow and she watches Annie during the day while I work on the docks. I'm afraid the widow is too lenient however, and Annie is becoming quite willful. I am working to curb that tendency.

What a temper my child has! I know it is from her mother, although Kathleen insisted the Cartwright temper was the strong one. The other day I told her to go to bed, she yelled that she would go to bed when she wanted. Needless to say, she went to bed when I wanted, feeling sorry for herself no doubt. Certainly she let me know that she thought I was a mean papa!

From your last letter I understand that Joseph is becoming quite willful as well. How is it yelling at our Father's namesake? Do you remember all those times we vowed we would never be as mean as Father? Yet, here we are, doing exactly as he did. Perhaps he was not as mean as we thought. I wish he were alive so I could tell him that I appreciate all he did for me. I would not be half the man I am today were it not for his discipline.

I am glad to hear that you and Marie are finally thinking of moving west. Dare I hope that you are considering California? I would love to be reunited with you and your family and I think Annie would benefit from a woman's gentle hand. Then again, from what I remember of Marie, perhaps it would be better not to have the example of her temper in front of Annie. (Marie, my dear, if you are reading this, know that I am teasing you!)

I am thinking of relocating further south. I understand Santa Barbara has a nice climate and there are several ranches for sale. I have saved quite a bit of money and I long for my own land. Imagine me, a raiser of horses, yet that is my dream. Think on it, my dear brother. Together we could make the Cartwright ranch known throughout the west!

Love to Marie and the boys. Affectionately, your loving brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
Santa Barbara, California

Dear Ben,

We are finally settled here in Santa Barbara. I have recently purchased a ranch and am quickly learning to be a rancher. I had no idea how much I needed to learn. Fortunately, the vaqueros that I hired are good teachers. (Vaquero is a Mexican word, I think it means cowboy. That's how I use it anyway. I am learning a lot about Mexicans that I never knew. Contrary to all that I heard, they are good people and have been kind to Annie and me.)

Today Annie is six. I just realized that I have written to you on each of her birthdays. It's a good tradition, one I hope to keep until I am a grandfather! Annie is a thoughtful girl, even if she continues to be strong willed. She worries that I work too hard, and that I am not eating properly. She has decided that I need a mother hen to look after me and that she is right for the job. I remember you used to say the same thing about Adam.

Speaking of Adam, your last letter hinted at some trouble. He's fifteen, now, isn't he? If he's anything like you at fifteen, I'm sure you are going gray. Remember the time you and I decided to sneak out at night to take the raft out on the Harbor? We came home and tried to sneak through the window, but Father was waiting for us. I don't ever remember feeling the way I did when he lit the lamp and asked in that low, angry voice of his "and where have you been, my boys?" Then again, I don't ever remember feeling the way I did after he got done with us either! Once he found out what we had done, he took his strop to us, do you remember? (As if you could forget!) Looking back on it now I realize he was concerned for our safety. We could have been killed if a ship had plowed into our raft. Ah, the folly of youth. I'm sure you are taking Adam to task, just as Father did us. And, I'm sure he'll turn out as fine a man as you did.

Tell Eric I have enjoyed his letters. If he should ever decide to come to California, I shall hire him instantly. A young man who is as good with animals as he is will always be needed on a ranch. Tell him to keep his eye on his brother, Joseph. You need all the help you can get with that one, I think!

Annie has asked that include her letter. As you can see, she has very good penmanship, for a six year old that is. She has turned out to be left handed, like me. Fortunately for her, I am not trying to change her the way old Mr. Crabtree tried to force me to change. I think I still have the scars on the knuckles of my left hand. Annie is already reading and doing her sums. I'm hoping she will be good at math, so that when she is older she can keep the books. I would rather bust a bronc than do the books!

Our love to Marie, Adam, Eric and Joseph. Your loving brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
Santa Barbara, California

Dear Ben,

Today Annie is seven. Yet, not two months ago, I despaired of her ever reaching her seventh birthday. She was terribly sick and at death's door for over two weeks. The doctor still does not know what ailed her, but I am grateful for all he did to keep her alive.

It started innocently enough. She complained of a fever and headache and I thought it one of the illnesses that children seem to get from time to time. I sent her to bed, and when I went to check on her an hour later, she was drenched in the sweat of a raging fever. Of course I sent for the doctor immediately. The fever raged for almost two weeks, and all we could do was bath her constantly in hopes of bringing down her temperature. How I wished we lived closer to the mountains so I could bring her some ice. We struggled to keep fluids in her; of course she could eat nothing solid. I never left her side for those two weeks. I spent many of the nights on my knees assailing the heavens with my prayers for her recovery.

Ben, I do not know what I would have done if she had died! She is all that I have of my beloved Kathleen and I am sure I would have followed her in death if God had chosen to take her. But, God and his angels were looking out for her and after two weeks of delirium, she returned to me.

She is still weak, and I do not allow her to go outside much, but she is getting stronger every day. Today we had a small dinner to celebrate the day.

I understand from your last letter that you plan to leave New Orleans in the spring. God grant you a safe journey to wherever your road takes you. I shall not complain if your road brings you to me.

Love to Marie and the boys. I remain your affectionate brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
Santa Barbara, California

Dear Ben,

Today Annie is eight and what a year it has been! First, I must tell you that I almost remarried this year. I'm sure you are surprised. I know I was!

I met Eloise several months ago at a neighbor's. She seemed quiet and refined and I enjoyed her company. We began spending time together and I found myself wanting to see her more and more. It had been so long since I enjoyed the affections of a woman that I am ashamed to admit that one night I almost acted in an ungentlemanly fashion and managed to stop myself just before dishonoring her. But, she did not object. That should have been my first clue.

After that evening, Eloise began to act oddly. She began talking of marriage, and insisted that we were engaged. After all, she said, my attentions certainly spoke of my interest. I was so ashamed of my actions of that evening that I too thought marriage was required and we set a date.

Annie did not like Eloise from the moment I introduced them. That should have been my second clue. Annie was rude to Eloise and no amount of chastisement from me could make her behave. I was in despair, but I thought perhaps Annie was being as you said Adam was when you first married Marie, and that she would grow to love Eloise as I thought I did.

Eloise began to take interest in the ranch and the books, and I thought she was just preparing to become a rancher's wife. I suspected nothing was wrong until I noticed Annie was crying frequently and then I noticed her face was bruised. When I asked her, she said she got slapped by a twig while riding. Annie has never been a good liar, but I said nothing. Then Eloise suggested that Annie would do better if she were sent to the Sisters in Carmel. As if I would ever send my only child away from me! Eloise insisted if I loved her I would do as she asked. Then, and only then, did I realize that she had been abusing Annie, both physically and verbally. It was all I could do to refrain from striking her myself. I ordered her from the ranch. She vowed to ruin my name by telling everyone that I dishonored her. I would not listen and finally she left Santa Barbara. Shortly thereafter I was approached by the authorities. Apparently Eloise was wanted in several territories for murdering her rich husbands shortly after she married them. She had the nickname of The Black Widow and I was almost her prey.

Of course, if she had ever looked at the books closely, she would have realized I was no potential rich husband. Running a ranch is expensive work, and there are times when it's all I can do to stay out of debt!

I hope this letter finds you in the wilds of Nevada. I was not sure where to post it, but your last letter mentioned you were in Eagle Station.

Please give my love to Marie and your sons and remember me in your prayers for the New Year. I remain your affectionate, yet foolish, brother.

Ed

December 3, 18‹

Dear Ben,

It is unbelievable to me that Annie is nine today! Where the years have gone, I do not know.

I have hired a new housekeeper a few months ago, her name is Concetta. I also hired her husband, Eduardo. He will be my new foreman. (Imagine, me owning a ranch large enough to require a foreman! Your little brother is doing well for himself.)

Concetta is a good woman, and Annie is thriving under her care. She is learning to cook and to sew (which is a good thing because I am eating so well that my clothes will need to be taken out!)

Annie is growing into quite the young lady. She continues to mother me, and has even begun trying to pair me up with some of the single women in the area. But, after last year, I am not interested in any romantic entanglements. She seems so mature for nine, and yet sometimes she is childlike, I wonder at the change.

So Adam has turned 18 and you and he have survived. Does he plan to leave soon, or will he stay with you, do you think? By the time we were his age, we had been sailing for a year. How does it feel to have such an adult son, old man? For your sake, I hope he stays. But, should he ever wish to visit California, he is welcome here. Now you have Eric just turned 14. I wonder, is he continuing his placid ways or has he decided to act like his older brother? Maybe Eric will be your rest between Adam and Joseph. That one will make you go gray! Perhaps we should not let Joseph and Annie meet. I'm not sure either of us would survive!

My love to you all. Until we should meet again, I remain,

Your Affectionate Brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
Santa Barbara, California

Dear Ben,

Hard to believe but my Annie is 10 today. She has grown increasingly stubborn. I suppose you would say I spoil her, yet I find it difficult to punish her at times.

Well, it is not always difficult to punish her. I think I wrote to you of her love of horses. She rides like a horsewoman twice her age and it's all I can do to keep her on the calmer horses. She thinks nothing of racing and jumping. I have a new stallion we call Jove. He is an immense beast and he will improve my herd considerably. You shall want some of his get when you start your ranch. Anyway, Annie is forbidden to even go near the horse. She has begged, whined and tried sneaking in, but I remain fast. This horse could easily kill her.

The vaqueros and I were away from the house for a few hours and Annie found herself alone. She apparently decided to take the opportunity to ride Jove. She knew she would not be able to saddle him, but she was able to get on him. Then my tiny daughter, my life, my everything, rode this animal away from the house, holding on only to his mane.

Fortunately (or unfortunately from her point of view) I came home shortly after she left. I saw the open gate and saw that Jove was missing. I could not find Annie and I began to saddle a fresh horse to go find her. Just as I was about to mount, she rode the horse into the yard at a full gallop. All my worry turned instantly to anger and I grabbed her off that horse. She looked at me sweetly, not yet realizing the extent of my anger and said "See, Papa, I told you I could ride him." I dragged her into her room and gave her the first tanning she had ever received from my belt.

For a while I felt guilty punishing her in anger until I realized I would have punished her the same way if I had not been angry. Disobedience and insolence are not to be tolerated. I think, I hope, she has learned her lesson. Needless to say, she will not be interested in sitting in a saddle for some time.

I do wish you would reconsider staying in Nevada. I know you have always longed for the tall trees and mountains, but we have beautiful weather here and I am sure Marie would appreciate the warmth. But, you always were the stubborn one in the family (and that's saying something to say you are the stubborn Cartwright!)

Love to Marie and the boys. Your loving brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹
Santa Barbara, California

Dear Ben,

Eleven years ago, I was blessed with my daughter. Is it a sign of age that I spend my time thinking back on all those years? I look at her now and see my baby no more, only the face of a beautiful young woman. She is so like my beloved Kathleen that it breaks my heart to see her, yet my heart soars knowing that some part of Kathleen remains in this world. How proud would she be of her daughter! Annie is smart, considerate, loving and even sometimes well-behaved. No, I do her an injustice. She has a stubborn streak but we are working on curbing her temper.

I find myself treating Annie more and more like a partner in the ranch. I suppose that I am giving her the training to continue after I am gone. She is actually wise beyond her years, and has made suggestions for improvements. She is also quite good in math and she is starting to manage the household books (with supervision, of course.)

I cannot believe it has been more than eleven years since I have seen you and your family. Yet, I feel close to you still, because of the letters we write. If only there were some way to see you again. Perhaps in a few years I will feel confident enough to leave the ranch in Eduardo's hands and Annie and I will come to see you in Eagle Station. Until that time these letters must serve to span the distance between us.

Love to all, your affectionate brother,

Ed

December 3, 18‹

Dear Ben,

How I grieve for your loss. Marie was a wonderful woman and beloved mother. How you have the strength to continue I do not know, but I suspect you find your strength in your sons. As you told me all those years ago, you must continue, if only for their sakes. They have lost their mother, do not let them lose their father.

Annie too was grieved. Although she never met Marie, the letters Marie sent through the years made her feel close to her aunt. In many ways, Marie was the mother than Annie did not have.

How sad our lot is in this world. I wonder how we are expected to bear this load. What is God's plan for us? Yet, it is not for us to question His wisdom, but to merely persevere. Sometimes I fear for my future. Ben, please promise me that if anything should ever happen to me, you will care for my Annie.

Annie is twelve today. She is quickly outgrowing her pony; I think next year I will have to give her a horse. A nice, quiet, tame, old filly I think. She is reckless when she rides, despite all my admonitions to the contrary.

Good luck to you and your sons with your new ranch. The Ponderosa is a fine name, and I know you will build a fine ranch in the memory of your beloved wife. Would that we could be with you in your hour of despair.

My love to Adam, Eric and Joseph. You are in our prayers each night. Your affectionate brother,

Ed

Ben wiped a tear from his eye. He had forgotten about Ed's last letter. He had written that he would of course care for Annie, but that he was sure Ed would live a long and healthy life. How wrong he had been. If only he had gone to visit Ed just one of the times Ed had asked. But, Ben had not lived his life giving in to regret. He instead resolved to give Annie the best life she could have. Sighing, he tied the letters back into a bundle and went to bed.

Annie Cartwright woke up the next morning feeling sad. She was sure no one remembered her birthday. How she missed Papa today. He always made the day special for her, even during the sad times. She got dressed, then went to start her chores. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she opened the door and her entire family was standing by the table. "Happy Birthday, Annie!!!" Uncle Ben grabbed her up and gave her 13 pats on her bottom. "I bet you thought we forgot. Don¹t worry, I remembered."

"Pa, we gotta show Annie her present!" Joe practically dragged her outside. "Close your eyes, Annie!"

"Okay, now you can open them." said Hoss. He was grinning from ear to ear. Annie was looking at the filly that he had delivered a few months ago. Her mouth dropped open, then she turned to her uncle. "For me? For my own?"

He smiled at her. "For you. Hoss and Adam will break her when the time comes. No, I'm not going to let you do it. You'd better listen, because what I give, I can take away."

She threw herself into his arms. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" He returned the hug. "Your father would have wanted you to have this present. Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

Dear Ed,

Annie is thirteen today. You should be very proud of her. Don't worry, we are taking good care of her, and she is taking good care of us. You are in our prayers. Your loving brother,

Ben

(the end)