Hanna writes her friend in the immediate aftermath of the War’s end and Lincoln’s death, and reflects upon the losses endured by the nation:

     “Mary darling,

          … I am now teaching three miles from Frederick… I was in Frederick last Thursday & heard a splendid sermon delivered by Rev. Williams of the Presbyterian Church, on the life & death of our lamented Chief Magistrate. He showed how he was fitted for the great work by poverty, toil & danger, he then described his conduct through the great struggle, repeating an extract from one of his messages. It was grand, he then spoke of the soldiers & described a farewell scene, showing the heroism of our boys & the self denying spirit of our patriotic women. There sat the weather beaten veteran, who had been fighting bravely for four long weary years, no doubt he felt a thrill of pleasure as he reflected that his labors were at least appreciated. After partaking of a sumptuous dinner, we proceeded to the Hospitals. It is a lovely place, flowers of all kinds meet your eye on every side, indeed everything possible to make the poor fellows forget the din of war is done. All looked happy & contented. I saw several who had gotten their discharges & had already donned citizen’s attire, long linen coats, light pants. Now they are homeward bound. The sick & wounded looked happy & well they might, for is not the war over? I sighed as I glanced at the cripples, yet even they were lively for they were that day receiving a nation’s thanks. … I had a rebel beau last night, one of Lee’s parolled men. He is handsome elegantly dressed, very intelligent & one of the most finished gentleman I ever met, but he call the late traitor band “our Army” That satisfied me, but he is to go with, or rather take me to White Rock. Have no fear a man who has lifted his arm against his Country can be nothing to me… We have peace but what a price have we paid for it, blasted hopes, blackened homesteads, ruined land, broken constitutions, corrupted morals & desolated firesides. Graves are scattered all over our land, graves of some of America’s noblest sons. Men who were reared in affluence have laid for days on the burning sands without a drop of water & have died surrounded by hungry famishing wretches, with no one to drop a tear on their cold remains or even close their eyes in death …”