Sumter S. C.
July 25, 1867

My dear Fuller;--

Oh, so warm as it is

! and yet I don't find it very oppressive. I go to school every day, a quarter of a mile through the burning sand, and come home at twelve N. and keep well, strong, and hearty. I am enjoying my school now ever so much. I have about sixty in the average, and they learn just as fast as I care to teach them, and behave like angels. The balance of the time I devote chiefly to politics, as I think I may have mentioned before. The two ladies whom I think I have mentioned who have been teaching on Mr. Knox's plantation started for the North yesterday, dining with me on the way to the station. They are coming back the last of September. I am now the only white teacher in the district.

The ladies have had a melodeon given to them for the use of their school, & they left it with me while they are gone. You cannot think how much I am enjoying it. And the people are so delighted. I have the most appreciative audience when I play that I have ever had.

We are having very dry weather. In fact, there is some danger of failure of crops this year. If they should fail the result will be appalling. The people are at the starvation point now. We have a garrison here now--just arrived. It remains to be seen what their morale is to be. I should judge that their commander, Major Schenk, is a rather strict disciplinarian, by the account the colored people gave me of the severe punishment he caused to be inflicted upon two of his soldiers for drunkenness. I hope he will keep it up, for a drunken soldiery is a terrible curse. Several of the officers have their wives here. As their hope of female acquaintance among the native inhabitant of Sumter is very feeble, it may be that I shall gain some society by the move. If it was a volunteer regiment I should look for some pleasant friend among the privates, but in the regular army there is small chance of that.

It would be pleasant to have a few acquaintances of my own color, but such is my position here that I have to be suspicious of every one,--except Mr. Whittemore. There is one young man from Massachusetts here, who was in Mr. Whittemore's regiment, & who was introduced to us by him. Though we did not greatly fancy him, we tried to be polite to him, and to make it pleasant here for him when he chose to call, because we knew that he had no other acquaintances where he could go socially, naturally, too, it would be supposed that if we needed any protection, he would be the one to whom we should apply, coming from the same state as he does. But now the report reaches me of the most impertinent & even insulting remarks made by him upon my character--he even Out-Herods Herod were that possible. I don't care for those things when they come from Southerners; they are expected to be bitter as aloes, and to lie like the Father of Lies himself; I know that none of my friends here will believe such tales that at home, even if the lies could reach there, my reputation is above reproach, & best of all my conscience is clear in the sight of God. I know that you too will love & trust me through evil report & good report; but to think that one of my own countrymen should be glad to hear & repeat such slanders is wounding to one's feelings, slightly. The colored people are ready to take up arms in defense of my honor, & six words from me would make a troublesome time here. Oh, Fuller, I should be almost afraid to have even you know all the things that are said of me here. They are so angry because I take so much part in the affairs of state, & advise the people so much in political matters, that they take every means in their power to vent their spite. They seem bound now to drive me away, but they won't do it--not yet. Oh, how I hope this regiment are what they ought to be, & are properly officered.

Mr. Whittemore is a good brother to me. He stopped the tongues of the slanderers in Lynchburg--for our fame is not confined to Sumter--& would do so here, if he knew all that was said. I hope he won't hear it for I don't care in the least since it doesn't hurt me any.

Well, it strikes me this letter is long enough. I wish Eddie was here tonight to sing with me--not you of course.

Yours as ever
Jane B. Smith