Cheltenham
43 Lansdown Crescent

Dec 8^th / 67

My Dear Friend, I wrote to you a few weeks ago—but did not send you my address in Plymouth where I am going for six months. I am now very much occupied in making my preparations for leaving this place, but I must send you at least a few hurried lines by this next mail—dear friend for I want you to have my address before the close of the year. I am also writing to dear Rosa by this mail. She will no doubt feel rather desolate at this season when friends generally assemble so far from her own dear home—Dear child I have had another affectionate & very interesting letter from Rosa She seems resolved

to persevere in her undertaking in the midst of many difficulties. You help her, and bless her!—You too, dear friend, will miss your beloved absent children but you have the consolation of knowing that absence will increase their love and devotion to you. May you some day be reunited to all those who are so dear to you. I cannot bear the thought of your being separated from them just now when so many cares and anxieties are pressing upon you—Your life is indeed one of continued sacrifice of all your pleasures and comforts. For God will assuredly make it up to you by and by—My very dear friend I am going to Plymouth to teach the children of a Lady whom I educated

myself. It was my first place of abode in this country I went there from Switzerland. And I have kept up my acquaintance with my old pupils ever since I left them. So you see that I am not going among strangers. They have repeatedly invited me to return to them, but having been obliged to leave Devonshire because my health was improved by the damp and relaxing climate. I always refused to comply with their wishes—Now I go because there is nothing else before me. And I am constrained to follow the leadings of Providence. It is with fear and trembling that I undertake the task—there are many children, and among them are some very unmanageable boys!

I am endeavoring to see in these trials the hand of God to detach me from Earth—from a place which I had so long regarded as a home, and to make me more entirely dedicated to my friends—and more and more unselfish by making me feel the effects of faithlessness and selfishness in others. Since I have had a home in view in Plymouth I have been invited, to go to Wincobank but as long as I had nothing in view, I was left in anxiety and trouble. I have not said this to any one but to you my most trusted of friends

Though I have been so miserable here, I trust it has not been quite a lost year. The dear children who hardly knew that there were Slaves are now all thorough little Abolitionists and I believe their young hearts really feel for the sufferings of the poor Captives. They speak of you as if you were quite an old friend of theirs and want to know if when Mr. Douglass comes again to England they may if they meet him any where go up and shake hands with him without being introduced I assure them that it would please you very much. I do not think they can ever forget all they have heard of the cruel oppression of which so many of their fellow creatures are

the victims, and I hope that hereafter, they may do something for them. A dear Lady our neighbor is also deeply interested in you, my dear friend so is her husband Capt Lichfield—but she is quite enthusiastic about you. I delight to hear her speak of you. She says you are to her like the grapes of Eshcohl, the premier of the glorious future of your race. She has purchased a copy of your book, which I had to sell and insisted on giving me one pound for it. She begged I would tell you that it was worth that—and that it was the most interesting narrative that had ever been written. Dear Lady I am so sorry to leave her, but I am to write

to her, and to give her tidings of you—and of Rosa, in whom she also takes a great interest. I read part of her letters to Mrs L—and told her that anecdote of her childhood when though Frederick Douglass's daughter—she was kept apart from the white children in the school—I have sent the one pound for the book to Mrs. Crofts as usual—My life can never be utterly miserable as long as there is something left to do for you. May I never be deprived of this only source of happiness to me. I am very powerless you know, beloved friend except in the exercise of earnest prayer for you, and the offering of deep, deep & sincere—ever encircling affection.

I had a note from dear Mrs Rawson a few days ago to which she again refers to your kind messages of sympathy. She says she hopes to write a few lines to you soon. She is very low and in weak health. I wonder dear friend, if you have ever been in Plymouth. I hope you have, for I feel more at home in a place when some beloved friend has even passed through it. I shall be at the very gates of the sea and fancy myself nearer the far off land on the other side—towards which my thoughts are perpetually flying. I hope that in Plymouth, I shall have more opportunities of working for our Cause than I have yet had. It is such a large town and I know a great number of people there

Will you, my dear friend, order the January number of the Monthly—and also the number for Francis Fedric to be directed to Plymouth—under one envelope—both papers. I suppose this can be done. I leave this on the 18^th or 19^th of this month Will you pray for me I shall be with you in Spirit. On the first of January. Oh may that day be indeed the glorious day we expect it to be—the day of deliverance to the Captives the first day of the year of Jubilee for which we have so long prayed and waited. May your heart be gladdened on that day. I pray for you. I pray for your people

May you be happy—This prayer comprehends all I desire for you and for your people—for when you are happy Millions of now suffering beings will rejoice. God bless you. Take care of your precious health—during this cold weather. Dear friend I hardly know what I have written. I have not time to read it over. Remember me to the members of your family who are there with you.

God preserve and comfort you. God by ever with you—For Ever—Your very affectionate and devoted

Rosine Amé-Draz

I shall write to dear Rosa from Plymouth. I think much of her—dear child—I hope to find the Monthly in Plymouth—You know my address there.

C. Bewes Esqre
The Crescent

Farewell, my very dear Friend—Again I implore our God and Fathers blessings upon you and yours So take care of your precious health & life. God bless and protect you—

Ever your most devoted and affectionate friend

R. Amé-Draz

Miss Amé-Draz
Charles Bewes Esq^re.
The Crescent
Plymouth

This is my last letter to you—from this house of bondage. The future is so dark! I dare not look far into it—Again. God's best blessings upon you—Now and for Ever—