Jail, Clay. Cont Mo, April, 4th, 1839.
Dear— and affectionate— .
Thursday night I sat down just as the sun is going down, as we peak throu the greats of this lonesome prision, to write to you, that I may make known to you my situation. It is I believe <it is> now about five months and six days since I have bean under the grimace, of a guard night and day, and within the walls grates and screeking of iron dors, of a lonesome dark durty prison. With immotions known only to God, do I write this letter, the contimplations, of the mind under these circumstances, defies the pen, or tounge, or Angels, to discribe, or paint, to the human mid mind being, who never experiance what I we experience. This night we expect; is the last night we shall try our weary joints and bones on our dirty straw couches in these walls, let our case hereafter be as it may, as we expect to start to mor row, for —, for our trial, We shall have a change of Venue to some of the lower counties, for the final trial, as our Lawyers generaly say; if law can be adheared to in , as it grants us the privaliege. But you are awere of what we may expect, of beings that <have> conducted as they have. We lean on the arm of Jehovah, and none else, for our deliverance, and if he dont do it, it will not be done, you may be assured, for there is great thirsting for our blood, in this ; not beca use we are guilty of any thing: but because they say these men <will> give an account of what has been done to them; the wrongs they have su stain if it is known, it <will> ruin the . So the mob party have sworn, to have our lives, at all hasards, but God will disapp oint them we trust, We shall be moved from this at any rate and we are glad of it let what will become of <us> we cannot <get> into a worse hole [p. ]