San Luis Obispo
May 19 - 70

My dear Sister Anne,

My dear, It is with sentiments of the deepest sorrow that I write to inform you of the decease, unexpected on my part, at least so soon, of my dear brother Alexander. I wrote you two letters a week or two since, the first written in fear of such a result, the latter intended, truthfully, to reassure you. It turned out that those, and they were legion, who had taken the most sombre views of my brother's health, were in the right. He, poor fellow, held out to the last, and would not believe that he was in danger. The doctor, who now says emphatically that poor Alex died of consumption, never mentioned the word either to him or to me. He said to me only that Alex had an abscess on the lung, and this only toward the last of his stay here, and then only to get me to persuade my brother to seek a warmer climate. This I had repeatedly done before, but poor Alex was so wrapped up in his business that he always pooh-poohed the idea, and would not listen to any suggestion of the kind. He became offended if anyone mentioned the matter to him. At the doctor's suggestion I advised him strongly to go to San Miguel, 40 miles from here, where the climate is much warmer than this. He went on [the] next day, and was there about three weeks, with his wife. It was an old mission, where an hotel was kept, and stage station. He had beautiful surroundings, as far as landscape, kind attendance, and wanted for nothing, except health. His wife attended on him faithfully to the last, and both refused to believe that he was so far gone. We received letters from him every day, and the news was on the whole favourable. He was gaining in flesh, as was ascertained by actual weight, and most people thought he was mending.

The very day of his decease a friend came in from San Miguel and told me that he looked better than when he left town, but that he was very weak in voice. Next morning, at 3 o'clock, came a courier to tell us that he was gone. Immediately I hitched up a team, had it put in my buggy and took my wife and a friend out. We arrived at mid-day. We found poor Andrea very much afflicted; found out that my brother had been sitting down the night before, reading. She was conversing with him, when he complained of a dizzyness, and according to a previous instruction from the Doctor, called for a cup of coffee. It was given him, and he took it. His wife suggested sending for the doctor from the HotSprings, 6 miles distant. This Alex declined, but said that if it would relieve her anxiety, she could send for him. She went to the door to do so, when, on looking back she saw my poor brother fall back in his chair. She called for the lady of the house, and rushed to him. He had passed away without a groan or apparently a pang. This was about 9 PM of Monday, May 16th.

Poor Alexander. We had given directions before leaving town to have everything prepared for the funeral. A friend brought the coffin out the next morning, May 18th, yesterday. On [the] same day we brought him home with his wife, and he is now lying in his coffin in my parlor, as I write. He is in a metallic coffin. Will be buried day after tomorrow, Saturday, at 2 PM with Masonic honors.

Dear Anne; I have seen so much buffeting about in this world, that perhaps I do not show, perhaps I do not feel, that emotion which is natural to such as have not seen trouble or danger; an emotion born as much of shock of an unexpected or unexperienced sorrow or danger, as of the true affection which all should have to those who are dear to them. The face, perhaps the heart, too, hardens. But, believe me that I feel deeply the loss of my poor brother, and would do much, very much, would travel far, endure greatly, to save him to him and to us. This I think he would have done for me. But he is gone now, and all I can do for him is to pay those last respects to his memory which all of us will some day require. This I will do, and all that I can do for his widow, who was a good wife to him. Write to my mother; break it to her. I cannot write to her now. I will do so hereafter. We are in good health. Respects to your husband.

I will write again soon.

Your affectionate brother

Walter Murray