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Letter 6 - To Miss Élise Schoeffler at Wiesbaden
Mittelbronn, 4 October 1843
My dear and so beloved Aunt,
Would I still dare to write you after having so long delayed in doing it? But I have confidence in your great mercy. And I dare to ask you not to hold against me this fault which I will do my best to repair in the best possible way by writing to you during the course of this year, letter for letter. Besides, consider the state I am in. I am on vacation, that is enough to tell you, and I am trying to make the most of it to the extent possible. Enough about that; let’s talk of other matters. In a week, I will return to the seminary. On 4 November, our entrance will take place; by the sixth of the same month, I expect a letter from you, because already it has been too long that you have not deemed to write me a single word. Our family is at peace, thanks be given to God! Nothing more beautiful than peace among peoples. It seems that the matter about whichI recently wrote you will not take place: that is to say, the marriage e of my aunt Caroline1. No more is heard about it. Perhaps it is that a volcano is preparing its lava and will soon erupt — and that, with violence and/or enthusiasm. May it not be so because in so doing, my dear Aunt would only be committing something foolish of the first rank for which she [Aunt Caroline] would soon repent. For a long time, I have been holding a letter for you from my uncle André, that worthy officer. Don’t be angry that I have delayed so long to send it to you, your pleasure will be all the greater since you have so long awaited this dear letter which you will devour, dear Aunt, with all the enthusiasm which brings you to love your brother. I had begun a lovely flower for you, but I failed; I found the work spoiled in an instant, and that as a result of clumsiness. If I can make one at the seminary, I will bring it to you next year when I will have the pleasure, dear Aunt, to kiss you from the bottom of my heart, – to hug you in my arms and to tell you out loud: “I love you.” Yes, dear Aunt, let us always love each other; let us work in the love of one another and perhaps some day a brighter sun will shine for us — but under which perhaps we will no longer need letters to tell each other all we wish to say, but will be able to communicate leisurely, either during our walks in the summertime, or before our fireplace during the winter. Oh! How happy we will be! But do cheer up for yet a little while, my dear Aunt, and hope: this is what keeps us alive in this world. Whoever does not have courage and hope can only become but an unworthy being in the society which nourishes him Ah! If only you knew how manytimes I think of you during my leisure hours — which are sometimes quite sad. How could they not be sad those hours of melancholy during which I imagine that there is no one in the world who loves me, except perhaps you. Your actions strongly show methat you love from the bottom of your heart. And so, how not to love the person who loves you — and that, disinterestedly.Oh yes!, my dear Aunt. Often do I reflect sadly of all that I have lost. Oh! My dear uncle! Oh! My sweet grandmother, you who are no longer here to guide my steps. Oh! Marie, my mother; do not allow me to lose my way in this world, I who no longer have support around me. Let us leave this aside; in a word, let us love each other since both of us have been abandoned. Since I am thinking of not writing to you before your feast day, I wish you a happy Saint Elizabeth’s day; may your dear patroness whosetomb you have seen keep you happy always on this earth and, at the end of your day2 s, lead you to the celestial homeland. Please offer my love to the kind Miss Klein, she who loves you so much and whom by that very fact I love also. May your love be eternal.And so, beloved Aunt, I kiss you in thought, and remain always your most devoted nephew.My aunts send their greetings, as do my brother and my other relatives, in fraternity and friendship. Write me soon. All love you; they speak to me about you a great deal, especially my mother who found you so very kind during your last visit. Atevery turn, my sisters show me the thoughtful gifts you brought to them. Eugene3 forever plays tricktrack.4 Josephine is almost always sick; she has heart palpitations.
Schoeffler
1 On 21 October 1845, Catherine marries Vincent Sutter (or Soutter) at Saint-Louis. She would bear at least one daughter, Marie-Célestine, born on 16 May 1851. Nothing more is heard about her.
2 Elizabeth of Hungary, honored on 19 November, whose tomb is in Marbourg.
3 Eugène-Albert-Charles-Joseph, born on 4 August 1835. He is last born, who married at Ternay (Rhône) Clotilde Morel. They had at least two daughters: Clotilde-Pétronille, in 1857, and Marie-Charlotte-Joséphine in 1862. Clotilde married Carl Goepfert at Mulhouse, in 1889. It was at her home that Eugène lived in 1900.
4 “A game which is played with dice and checkers on a board divided into two compartments (as in a jacket).” (Larousse of the XXth century) [A form of backgammon. - Trans.]
Would I still dare to write you after having so long delayed in doing it? But I have confidence in your great mercy. And I dare to ask you not to hold against me this fault which I will do my best to repair in the best possible way by writing to you during the course of this year, letter for letter. Besides, consider the state I am in. I am on vacation, that is enough to tell you, and I am trying to make the most of it to the extent possible. Enough about that; let’s talk of other matters. In a week, I will return to the seminary. On 4 November, our entrance will take place; by the sixth of the same month, I expect a letter from you, because already it has been too long that you have not deemed to write me a single word. Our family is at peace, thanks be given to God! Nothing more beautiful than peace among peoples. It seems that the matter about whichI recently wrote you will not take place: that is to say, the marriage e of my aunt Caroline1. No more is heard about it. Perhaps it is that a volcano is preparing its lava and will soon erupt — and that, with violence and/or enthusiasm. May it not be so because in so doing, my dear Aunt would only be committing something foolish of the first rank for which she [Aunt Caroline] would soon repent. For a long time, I have been holding a letter for you from my uncle André, that worthy officer. Don’t be angry that I have delayed so long to send it to you, your pleasure will be all the greater since you have so long awaited this dear letter which you will devour, dear Aunt, with all the enthusiasm which brings you to love your brother. I had begun a lovely flower for you, but I failed; I found the work spoiled in an instant, and that as a result of clumsiness. If I can make one at the seminary, I will bring it to you next year when I will have the pleasure, dear Aunt, to kiss you from the bottom of my heart, – to hug you in my arms and to tell you out loud: “I love you.” Yes, dear Aunt, let us always love each other; let us work in the love of one another and perhaps some day a brighter sun will shine for us — but under which perhaps we will no longer need letters to tell each other all we wish to say, but will be able to communicate leisurely, either during our walks in the summertime, or before our fireplace during the winter. Oh! How happy we will be! But do cheer up for yet a little while, my dear Aunt, and hope: this is what keeps us alive in this world. Whoever does not have courage and hope can only become but an unworthy being in the society which nourishes him Ah! If only you knew how manytimes I think of you during my leisure hours — which are sometimes quite sad. How could they not be sad those hours of melancholy during which I imagine that there is no one in the world who loves me, except perhaps you. Your actions strongly show methat you love from the bottom of your heart. And so, how not to love the person who loves you — and that, disinterestedly.Oh yes!, my dear Aunt. Often do I reflect sadly of all that I have lost. Oh! My dear uncle! Oh! My sweet grandmother, you who are no longer here to guide my steps. Oh! Marie, my mother; do not allow me to lose my way in this world, I who no longer have support around me. Let us leave this aside; in a word, let us love each other since both of us have been abandoned. Since I am thinking of not writing to you before your feast day, I wish you a happy Saint Elizabeth’s day; may your dear patroness whosetomb you have seen keep you happy always on this earth and, at the end of your day2 s, lead you to the celestial homeland. Please offer my love to the kind Miss Klein, she who loves you so much and whom by that very fact I love also. May your love be eternal.And so, beloved Aunt, I kiss you in thought, and remain always your most devoted nephew.My aunts send their greetings, as do my brother and my other relatives, in fraternity and friendship. Write me soon. All love you; they speak to me about you a great deal, especially my mother who found you so very kind during your last visit. Atevery turn, my sisters show me the thoughtful gifts you brought to them. Eugene3 forever plays tricktrack.4 Josephine is almost always sick; she has heart palpitations.
Schoeffler
1 On 21 October 1845, Catherine marries Vincent Sutter (or Soutter) at Saint-Louis. She would bear at least one daughter, Marie-Célestine, born on 16 May 1851. Nothing more is heard about her.
2 Elizabeth of Hungary, honored on 19 November, whose tomb is in Marbourg.
3 Eugène-Albert-Charles-Joseph, born on 4 August 1835. He is last born, who married at Ternay (Rhône) Clotilde Morel. They had at least two daughters: Clotilde-Pétronille, in 1857, and Marie-Charlotte-Joséphine in 1862. Clotilde married Carl Goepfert at Mulhouse, in 1889. It was at her home that Eugène lived in 1900.
4 “A game which is played with dice and checkers on a board divided into two compartments (as in a jacket).” (Larousse of the XXth century) [A form of backgammon. - Trans.]
En vente à la Librairie Asiatique :
Saint Augustin Schoeffler. Lettres d'un Lorrain martyr au Tonkin (1822-1851). Présentation et annotations par Bernard Stelly
