Some of the Spooner letters allude to current events of the time. On her return trip from Sharon Springs, Mary writes this letter from Springfield, MA to her husband back in Plymouth. She mentions the presidential election and a famous speech made by Anson Burlingame, a lawyer, Republican Party legislator, diplomat, and abolitionist. The majority of the letter, however, is still dedicated to personal matters. Mary keeps her husband informed on her travel plans and the condition of her companions.
Springfield Septr 22 56
I promised to write you from Albany, but as Bourne was writing last eveng from there thought I would reserve my letter ʼtill now that you might hear from us so much farther on our way.
We left Albany at nine this morning and arrived about two after a delightful ride of five hours. It rained a part of the way, which is the first time it has rained when we were travelling since we left home. Hannah bore the journey remarkably well, and we think ourselves fortunate to get into such good quarters.
There is a fire in Hannahs chamber and mine opens into it, and we are so cozily situated Bourne proposes we should pass the winter. It is quite an exciting time here, as it seems to be everywhere we have been, and all seem to be confident Fremont will be elected. Burlingame addresses a public meeting here tonight and now and then we hear music and cheering. — Yesterday we rode about the city of Albany and saw all the places of interest and I was surprised to find it so much of a place.
However it will not in my opinion compare with New York, or Boston. It has raind ever since we arrived here and I think it likely we shall have a long storm after so much pleasant weather. The day before we left Sharon Springs I got your second letter and a memorial which I was delighted to get though they were a week old, where they could have been all that time I do not know. I hope everything continues to go on as well as when you last wrote and trust I shall be there this week and find all well.
When we shall leave here will I suppose depend entirely on the weather. — As I am rather tired and not a little sleepy I must bid you all good night.
Truly and affly yours
Nine O clock