The Shadows of War Overseas and Home

My Dear Emilia,

I first write of my unending love and devotion to you and our beautiful bairns. I miss you with every waking hour, and since I left for the Crimean Peninsula, I have missed your entrancing green eyes and the way your gentle fair hair drapes over your shoulders. How I long, when sitting among my brothers in arms, to hold you once more. Feel your delicate hair against my chest and your breath against my skin.

I pray the warmth of the fire and the softness of the sheets of our bed are giving you the comfort I greatly miss. The rain has been nonstop for many weeks, and it has made it harder than usual to live in the trenches. Eating sufficiently has been difficult during this treacherous war, and we have had to cut down many of the green trees in the vicinity for firewood and fuel for kettles and equipment we use. I beg the Lord in the quiet of the night and the wee hours of the morning for respite. But until I set foot again on my beloved land and can see your beautiful visage with my own two eyes, I fear my heart and very being will be restless.

How I long to hold Elspeth, Annie and little Donald once again. I hope they are well and not proving to be too much of a handful for you, my dear. But I have never doubted your strength—as a mother, a wife, and my rock.

I have heard whispers among my brothers in the ranks of the Highland Regiments of trouble brewing back home and how you women have been left defending our homes from the greed of the landowners. Please stay safe and know I am proud of you, no matter the result. If God above wills it, this awful war will be over sooner rather than later. But that is beyond my control. All I can do is serve my country and my brothers with honour and integrity.

I want to spare you the details, for I know how you worry, but all aspects of human nature are plainly seen in the battlefield's dirt and mire. Many of my fellows have fallen, and we have spent the quiet nights and lulls in the fighting to mourn their loss.

So much death lies around me, and yet I worry not for my own safety but of your own. I beg you not to try to put yourself, our children or our neighbours in harm’s way as you do your best to be the hero I know you are. No land, home, or possessions could ever matter more to me than you and our wonderful children. I would forsake it all a thousand times to know you are safe.

With all my love

Yours

Andrew

*

Dearest Andrew,

The children and I think of you as often, I feel, as you think of us. I can only imagine the toll all of which you see is having on you, my love. I too long to hold you close, to look into those dark brown eyes of yours, the ones that make me feel safe in an instant. The bed sheets and the warmth of the fire are no replacement for having you here, safe and to take me close in your protective arms. Remain steadfast, my love, and while I would never want you to turn your back on your integrity, please do not take risks beyond what is required of you.

As for us, please try not to worry. A number of wives and men who were not called to enlist have grouped together in an alliance to protest against the landowners and the new rulings. I would never lie to you, and I go to bed at night with worry in my heart, not just for you, my love, in the thick of battle overseas, but also for the struggle we are facing back here. We have heard of the troubling news of what happens to those who succumb to the ruthless landowners. Homelessness is a very real possibility. But, we are mounting a strong effort, bolstered and inspired by you and your brothers in arms and the entire British army fighting the good fight. Though I do not know the outcome on the horizon, if our efforts are in vain, I do know that we will have done all we can.

Just as your example for the children to stand up for what you believe and go off to battle in lands you’ve never been to fight against forces that wish their ill-will against fellow man, I feel my own example to the children should be not to be easy prey for anyone. This is as much our land and home as it is the greedy men who claim it as their own and wish to see us cast out from it.

I pray the weather improves for you my love, and repeat my and the children’s love for you and hope to see you soon.

Your loving wife

Emilia

*

My Dear Emilia,

I pray this letter finds you and our beautiful children in good health and spirits. While it is never easy to tell when a war may be near its end, the word among the Generals of my Regiment and our allies is that we now have the upper hand against the Russians. After the disaster that was the Charge involving the British Calvary, the Light Brigade and the Heavy Brigade, we were worried, to say the least, but powered through, forming a Thin Red Line.

I beg the Lord to look kindly on the fallen of the brave, bold and tragic disaster and that we can ensure their deaths were not in vain by claiming victory. Victory, in many ways, is a curiosity to me. It means different things. Victory in this hellish war means that I have performed my duty as a soldier of the Highland Regiment to the best of my ability, it means that we can usher in an era of peace, but more impertinently, it means I can return to you my love.

Though I fear that, with one war ending, another awaits me when I return to Scotland—its beauty now tainted by the strife that grows at home.

I am troubled by the news, rumours passed from the couriers and through the ranks of men here in the Crimean Peninsula of what is happening back home. It pains me to see the greed of the wealthy creating hatred, hurt and devastation across the land. I worry more personally of the trials you are facing, my dearest Emilia, while caring for our children. And yet, I feel hopeless in my position and can but place my faith in the Lord and your own strength of character.

But I beg you, please take care of yourself and the children—let our home, the land we’ve cherished, be of less concern for now. My eyes fill with tears at the very thought of you facing the brutish tactics of the unrelenting landowners. Though I do not regret serving in honour of my beloved Highland Regiment, I feel ashamed at how my fellow countrymen even are acting.

It pains me to hear that while we are out here in the muddy dirt of Crimea, fighting to protect our home from the might of Russia, they are acting as they are.

Long it has been since our lips met in a sweet and passionate embrace. Long it has been that we have laid down together as husband and wife and exchanged our vows.

Kiss and hold the children for as long as they will let you, and know that my heart is forever bound to yours.

Yours

Andrew

*

My Dear Emilia,

I am beside myself with worry for your and our beautiful children’s well-being. On what should be a monumental time for celebration as we have heard word of the signing of the Treaty of Paris and the war declared as over, I am pained at other news closer to home I’ve heard from my brothers and our commanding officers. I pray that you are there waiting for me. But until I see you with my own weary, tear-filled eyes, I lie awake at night beside my brothers in arms, consumed with strain. We have heard how, despite the efforts of many like yourself and our courageous neighbours, not only have people been forcibly evicted from their homes but have been forcibly emigrated from our beloved land. The land we were born on and gave so much to.

Since I have yet to receive a reply to my last letter, my mind is filled with worry. I do hope that it is but a mistake on the part of the couriers and that there is some delay in my receipt of your next letter. Otherwise, it would mean that my return home would be bittersweet.

I will keep this letter brief, as I don’t wish to burden you further.

Be well, my love, and know I will be home soon, to you and our bairns.

Yours

Andrew

*

My Dear Emilia,

My love, my wife, I am writing to you with a thin veneer of hope that you will receive this letter. If not, I will begin my search in earnest to find you and somehow be reunited with my family, whom I miss more than words could express. In the days leading up to my writing this letter, I heard that many people from the Highlands had finally been evicted and shipped off to Canada, America, and Australia.

My hope is weakened but still burns enough to keep me from insanity. Though I do not know how I will survive if I arrive back in Scotland and find you have gone, I have already spent many years, months and days apart from you that a spell longer until we can be together again would be bitterness worth enduring.

I pray this letter finds you, my darling Emilia, and that we are reunited in this lifetime, not just the next.

Yours

Andrew

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Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: For some reference, this exchange of letters between Andrew and Emilia is set during the Crimean War and the Highland Clearances in Scotland. While the Crimean War started on 5 October 1853 and finished on 30 March 1856, the Highland Clearances from about 1750 to 1860.

The Highland Clearances were the forced eviction of people in the Scottish Highlands and Islands. Controversial to say the least, the Clearances saw landowners evict crofters living and working on their land so they could make more money by grazing sheep rather than renting it. This was fuelled in part by the fact that many landowners were in debt and wanted to quickly increase their income.

In the country, the Agricultural market was growing and becoming more competitive.

Many Scots served in the Highland Regiments and other parts of the military efforts during the Crimean War. While the men were away at war, the landowners often saw this as a great opportunity to evict, and at times to push emigration on the wives and women at home. You can learn more about the Highland Clearances and the Crimean War below.

I have written a little about the Highland Clearances before, and Letter From America, the song by The Proclaimers that was inspired, in part, by it. This currently has top place on my stats page, with over 300 reads.