Cloudy, dull day. Morning, read the service from eleven to
twelve. I wish I could look in on them at home to-day. I hope they have got
some of my letters, and have got the horses home. To-day I was to have
been in Baltimore and comfort and freedom, but here I am still in misery, a
prisoner. I have so much to be grateful for, it would be base to murmur at my
lot. How much worse it might have been! Not so well to-day. No exercise, no out
of doors, is beginning to tell.
SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William
Francis Bartlett, p. 134
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