Dear Mr. May

Through flame and flood and shipwreck I come to report. Our baggage (valued at a thousand dollars and uninsured) and the vessel which took us from Boston are a cloud in the horizon. I need not tell how this all happened, as the papers have probably told you that "Theo D. Wagner was destroyed by fire & no lives lost"--I have not reported for a long time; there has been nothing definite to say--and now I can only tell that we hope to work in Charleston this Winter Deo Volente. I came home, all worn out from last year's (untold) hardships;--and have had a season of agony in my chambers, from which I have made two or three attempts to be among people, but always regretted it. I kept waiting to see or hear from some of you, or to be well enough to go up to call though determined to et out if I got well enough--of course I had to wait until the way was plain.

I accepted a call to Charleston hoping to be ready when the time came--and most well, I started on Saturday for my field of labor--with a happy heart grateful that the good Lord was permitting me to go to my people again--forgetting my summer of pain & confinement in my joy at the prospect of being again at my work. I spent the morning before we sailed enjoying Bradford's Iceberg--and it seemed indeed a reality as I gazed. How soon we realized the near wreck, and the far-blazing ship! I was never more calm--happy and useful--and I am as thankful for this sublime experience as of any in my lifetime. It is such a satisfaction to find that one can do just as one would wish and to feel that your calmness and control may have been instrumental in saving lives. What pleasant thoughts and visions came to me as I took the last drop into--uncertainty--The women behaved perfectly well & worked with the buckets till taken off except four ignorant women & the children who were frantic--together with one of the mates who kept up a volley of panic exciting cries, "we're all lost!!! Bilers will burst in a minute, and not a sail in sight" ect! At the first cry, I rushed to the buckets, and cast water to the last. The women formed a line and passed buckets constantly. Not till after we knew we could not save the ship did the welcome sails appear; but they had not a breeze, & our only hope was in the possibility of our boiler holding out till we could reach them. We put on full steam & rushed our flaming bark upon them--When we had been put off in the small boats, and reached the bark, the sailors said, "you've come to a poor place; we're a wreck ourselves; and out of provisions." (She had lost her galley, cabin, provisions & some rigging in coming from Cuba, in the recent gale.) On deck, songs of thanksgiving welled from our hearts--and only our good fortunes presented themselves to my mind. Then I thought--how little the loved ones at home were thinking of our surroundings, or how cold, wet, hungry & tired the absent ones are! The only moment of anxiety was when I was helping a little child down the side of the boat to a young mother--with a babe in her arms.

Now the cold morning reminds me--I have nothing to make myself warmer--That this time we had all our wardrobe with us, except one good dress apiece & some common small articles, all contained in one drawer at home--Any other time we have been out we should not miss what we had with us. "We never had our wardrobe so complete & in such order, and how nice it is to have so many garments that will serve us our lifetime!" we said, as we were packing. This tough climax recalls the many pecuniary losses that have attended our whole Southern campaign--which we had till this ignored (together with the loss of health, risk of life & atmosphere of hate & contempt) in the entire satisfaction of our work. The last time we went South I had a carpet bag containing our united valuables & money stolen on the journey; this time there in the trunk (what we have left) for safe keeping.

Thank God--all right! Deo Volente we take the next chance for Charleston, & when we get there though we can borrow linen and shoulder covering until our familys help reaches us--If I live, I must work among my people again--this Winter, for I fear the Southern people will soon have some effectual way of keeping us out of their country.

With heart's best wishes to the Leicester friends--Hoping all is well with them.

Adieu