Washington, February 22, 1802.
Never were orders obeyed with more promptitude and effect. It is not twelve hours since I desired (directed) you to write, and lo! a letter dated the 9th of February. And even "enclosed in a blank sheet of paper." A zealous manifestation of reciprocity is due to such respectful attention, and thus, in obedience to the high commands of T. B. A., I do most sincerely and devoutly execrate all the postboys and the legislatures of the two most noble states the Carolinas.
You women: it is so with you all. If one wishes to exhibit the best side, one must provoke you. Gratify your wishes and expectations, or, still worse, anticipate them, and it produces a lethargy. How have I laboured for three months, working and writing to please a certain lady: nothing comes but inanity and torpor. I provoke her, and behold the effusions of spirit and genius. Be assured that I shall not speedily relapse into the same error. Indeed, I knew all this before; but I thought it was only one's mistress that was to be thus managed—it is sex.
For certain reasons of state, neither the name nor the epitaph can yet be given ; nor can it now be said precisely when. The verses are allowed to be very beautiful. Those on the anniversary of the wedding were received (this day) in the presence of two poets and a poetess, who said handsome things of them. Theessbeing a maiden of thirty-five, drew a deep sigh.
Indeed, it is impossible to say, for I never before heard of such a thing as that any public body should "ajourn." They do commonly adjourn; and if, perchance, this should be what you mean, and you shall write me so, I will do my best to give you a categorical answer.
Natalie arrived at Orleans on the twenty-sixth day; meaning that she had twenty-six days' passage. She has written both from Orleans and Nantz. Her letters are full of good sense, of acute observation, of levity, of gravity, and affection. No news of her mother, Adieu,
Washington, February 26, 1802.
The arrival of your letter of the 14th justifies me in noticing you by this mail. Your newspapers of the same date, and also of the 15th, contain particulars of the races; but so technically expressed that I comprehend nothing of it. Your story is quite intelligible as far forth as it is legible. I am very glad that Papa Alston has won once. It is, I am told, the first time in his life. Where is Hampton all this while, that you say nothing of him? Already I have told you that on the 4th of March I shall say something of the adjournment, if, in the mean time, you behave well. I shall not go first to New-York. Send back your chairs. General Smith's carriage has just ran away with four ladies, viz.: Mrs. Smith, Miss Speare, Miss Smith, and Mrs. Law. Miss Smith was taken up dead, and brought home dead. After twenty-five minutes she began to show signs of life. In two hours she began to know those about her, and now (three hours) she is perfectly well; and having been stripped and thoroughly examined, it cannot be discovered that she has received the slightest injury, save being frightened to death, as before mentioned. Miss Speare came off unhurt. Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Law are much bruised. You will, I hope, understand that the horses ran off with the carriage, and not that the carriage, of its own mere motion, ran off with the ladies. Adieu.
Washington, February 27, 1802.
Last evening Eustis happened in my room while I was at Smith's (opposite); he saw the cover of your letter, and the few lines which it contains. He wrote what you will find enclosed, and left it on my table. His cure is radical; that which I recommend is temporary.
A dull, raw, misty, vile day. Mrs. Law confined to her bed, as I expected, but not dangerous. The Smiths doing pretty well.
The judiciary bill debating in the House of Representatives, being the last day of the second week devotedexclusivelyto that subject. It may and it may not be finished next week. When this shall be done with, we may be able to make some sort of calculation as to the duration of the session.
Your last letter is pleasant and cheerful. Careless, incorrect, slovenly, illegible. I dare not show a sentence of it even to Eustis. God mend you.
Washington, March 4, 1802.
You have supposed it to be from malice that I have not written you of the adjournment and of my intentions. The truth is, that I know little more of those matters than you do, and I have chosen rather to postpone iten badinantthan to write you crude conjectures; yet I can do but little more at present.
I left New-York with a determination not to return till I should have seen you and Charleston, and I arranged my business for an absence of six months. I had hoped that the session of Congress would close by the 15th of March or the 1st of April. On my arrival here every one said so, and I had like to have written it to you; but appearances did not seem to justify the expectation of a short session. The business is hardly commenced, and I see no prospect of an adjournment until some time in May. This is a great embarrassment; and your project of remaining on the coast is another. I could, with pleasure, have passed the summer with you in the mountains; but the heat and dissipation of Sullivan's Island is not so inviting. All this, however, is nothing to the purpose of your inquiry. To come to the point. I still propose to go South the instant I can disengage myself from this place; which may be a very few days before the close of the session. I shall be at least twenty days on the road. I entreat you, however, not to excite any expectation on the subject of my visit; not even to mention my intentions, until we shall see how far it may be in my power to execute them. The judiciary bill being out of the way, I am in hopes we shall engage zealously in the despatch of business. Of this matter I shall write further when I shall receive answers from you to my late letters. They may hasten or retard my movements a little, but not much. Adieu.
Washington, March 8, 1802.
From an accurate attention to the dates of your letters, I discover that you write on Sunday only; that if, by accident or mental indisposition, to which people in warm climates are liable, the business should be put off for that day, it lays over to the next Sunday, and so to a third or fourth, according to exigences, active or passive. Your letter, dated the 22d, but, in fact, written on Sunday the 21st, was received by the mail preceding the last, which brought nothing. This letter is a confirmation of my theory of provocations, which I have lately enlarged and more accurately defined, deducing it from philosophical principles, and adapting it to differentclimates. When this volume shall be ready for publication, I propose to add, in an appendix, by way of illustration, a series of our letters.
What you say of Huger shall receive due attention. WhichMariadid your husband go for, the biped or the quadruped? It is impossible to determine from any thing in your letter. On the subject of busts you are more whimsical than even your father; just now you had something in view; but, on the 22d of February, "worse than any part of the United States." I have no time to give you now an explanation of your ice phenomenon, but will talk with T.I. and W.E. on the subject. Your last was sealedon the writing, a vulgarism which I again condemn. Adieu.
Washington, March 8, 1802.
At the moment of closing your letter, this scrap of a newspaper [1] caught my eye, and is sent for your amusement. It is aimed at Aaron Burr, by whom, it is well known, the publication of the book [2] is delayed or suppressed. The book consists of five hundred pages, principally low scurrility and illy-told private anecdotes; with about thirty pages of high eulogium on A. B. There may, for aught I know, have been twenty other publications criminating the person by whom the work has been suppressed. They are so utterly lost on me, that I never should have seen even this, but that it came enclosed to me from a friend in New-York, who is solicitous formy honour, &c.
You may judge of the purity and decency of the book when I mention that some dozen of persons, by name, are charged with being bribed by British gold, and there is a surmise that General Pinckney is not reputed veryhonest. Of all the federal men, General Hamilton alone is treated with respect, even to flattery. My "solicitous friend" has given me a curious fact, of which I was ignorant till the receipt of his letter. Barlas, a Scotchman, the publisher of the book, is private tutor to the children of General Hamilton. Adieu.
Washington, March 8, 1802.
I learn, with a good deal of regret, that the mountain plan is abandoned; at least, that no measures are taken or meditated for its execution. I should cheerfully acquiesce in any reasons founded on motives of economy, convenience, regard to law business, or personal influence; but the solitary one assigned to me by Theodosia is, that you and she"may be near papa and mamma". Of this, too, I acknowledge the force; yet it might be considered that the mountain residence was intended for certain months only, and that during the residue (the greater part) of the year, papa and mamma might indulge their fondness. I had seen, or fancied that I saw in this project the assurance of health to yourself and wife, and sound constitutions to your children; profit in the location; amusement and economy in the residence, and an increase of your influence and connexions. How far it might comport with professional engagements, if seriously pursued, was not considered. One personal motive, I confess, might have influenced my judgment; the pleasure I had promised to myself in passing the summer with you, and in projecting little schemes of improvement and occupation. It is, indeed, with some hesitation that I shall visit your coast after the middle of May, and there is now no prospect of an adjournment of Congress before that time. Nevertheless, I shall come, thoughat your hazard, which, you know, would be a great consolation to me if I should be caught by a bilious fever in some rice swamp. The situation of Theodosia, so far from being an objection, ought, in my mind, to be an additional and strong motive. With her Northern constitution she will bring you some puny brat that will never last the summer out; but, in your mountains, one might expect to see it climb a precipice at three weeks old. Truly, I mean to be serious, and beg to know whether you have, in fact, resolved, and whether the resolution has, in good faith, been the result of reflection or of inertness. You will pardon the surmise. I allow something for the climate, much for the influence of example; and then, considering the uncommon warmth of the winter! it must be fatiguing even to talk of any thing requiring exertion.
The rapidity, however, with which your house has been furnished and established ought to redeem your wife from any share in this reproach. On the 22d of February I find her fully occupied in those concerns, with hopes of accomplishing the object by the time of my arrival. She was then, however, taking an eight days' repose, that she might renew her labours with more vigour at the expiration of that time. But, again, gravely I inquire where I am to find you about the middle or last of May. I presume, in the place where this will find you. Locomotion is labour.
I entreat your prompt attention to the enclosed memorandum, from my good friend Mr. Law. He says that Chisholm has never informed him of the disposition of the indents mentioned in his letter, of which the enclosed is a copy. Pray inquire and advise me. The thing is of small moment; but I should be gratified in the occasion to show an interest in his concern, for I am daily overwhelmed by the multiplied kindnesses of himself and wife.
The gazettes will tell you better, I suspect, than I can what is doing in the House of Representatives. The sloth with which things move is a daily source of vexation to me, as tending to protract the session. I dine with the president about once a fortnight, and now and then meet the ministers in the street. They are all very busy: quite men of business. The Senate and the vice-president are content with each other, and move on with courtesy.
Your Rutledge will be in Charleston in the course of this month. I hope you are on terms of civility with him, for I receive from him the most marked politeness. He will tell you of many strange things. God bless you ever.
Philadelphia, March 13, 1802.
Mr. Eckfeldt brought me five medals, four of which I sent by Mr. Ross; the other shall be disposed of as you direct. The die of Truxton's medal broke after fifty-two had been struck. I suppose Truxton will feel more pain for this accident than he would to hear of the death of his friend T. Coxe.
You mentioned that if Murray wrote in favour of Richard Jones, you had no doubt he would be appointed a midshipman. If the Secretary of the Navy sees the enclosed letter, perhaps he will give him a warrant. It could be forwarded by Commodore Truxton, who I do not expect will sail before the 1st of April. Although I frequently trouble you about different persons, believe me, my clear Sir, I do not wish you to do any thing whatever that will be disagreeable to you.
Mrs. Wilkinson is much obliged to you for your friendship to the general, which she says she will never forget. When James [3] sailed he desired I would inform you that he would write you as soon as he had any thing worth writing about. I believe you have no friend feels a warmer attachment to you than James. Sincerely yours,
Easton (Maryland), March 13, 1802.
I have long had it in serious contemplation to address a letter to you, but have frequently been restrained, from a knowledge that your time has been and still is devoted to public service, and that every moment is precious; and often I have been prevented by my own avocations and engagements on this our bustling stage. I have vanity enough to think I possessed a share of your esteem and friendship, which could only originate from your belief that I had a claim to the virtues, truth, candour, and sincerity. I detest the character of a hypocrite, and flatter myself no part of my past conduct can fix it upon me. Then permit me, with solemn truth, to declare, that when I see your name in the prints, I feel involuntarily an animating glow, and it immediately brings to my recollection incidents sometimes producing pleasing, and at others painful sensations, in which we have been mutually engaged and gone hand in hand. Although, to borrow the language of our president, there may exist shades of political difference between us, I have been your defender; and it was well understood and known that I spoke from an intimate acquaintance with you as a soldier and a gentleman.
Frequent reflection upon the various scenes we have encountered together has led me to lament the great distance that has so long prevented any social intercourse; but if the following description of a new route, when you revisit New-York, meets your approbation, I may again have the happiness of a friendly salute of the hand. I have travelled from Philadelphia to Annapolis,viaBaltimore, and ever thought it a rugged road. I propose that you should come to Annapolis, where exceeding commodious passage-boats constantly ply, and you will in a few hours be landed at Haddaway's, upon our eastern shore, from whence a line of stages run to Philadelphia.
Upon this route you will see a great number of your friends, added to which there will be novelty and ease. I cannot, indeed, promise you any romantic objects, such asCaratonckaor Morenci Falls, or gigantic mountains, such as we clambered together in 1775; but you will see a country approaching a high state of cultivation, and a number of towns, the most of which bear evident marks of daily improvement. Between these towns are interspersed gentlemen's seats; some of them beautifully situated, and the inhabitants generally affable, courteous, and hospitable. As to your ease, if you do not travel in your own carriage, you will find the horses and carriages equal to any others; the public houses comfortable, the country abounding with the good things of this world, whether flesh, fish, or fowl, and the road good, having occasionally what may with propriety be called gentle ascents and descents. My friends, Mr. Robert Wright, of the Senate, and Joseph H. Nicholson, of the House, who live directly on the road I have described, will confirm what I have written. Let me, then, once again enjoy your company, and that at my own hermitage. I shall be gratified by introducing the old lady, my two girls, and my boy to the companion and friend of my youth. They will endeavour to make theirlillapeeof a superior savour to what our cooks in days of yore could do for us. And although, as Partridge says, "non sum qualis eram," I shall certainly use my best exertions, while with us, to render your time agreeable.
Your sincere and old friend,
Washington, March 14, 1802.
Your letter of the 1st, postmarked the 3d, was received last evening. I regret that L. N. did not come to town, believing that you only could console her; that she would make you an intelligent companion; and that you could restore the tone of her mind, without diminishing the firmness of your own.
Papa's present was the most gallant and charming thing that could have been imagined. By Mr. Rutledge, who goes to-morrow, I send this papa a little token which has been some weeks waiting for an opportunity. Mr. Rutledge will tell you how I do, and what I do, and,to an hour, when Congress will adjourn. He sets off to-morrow, and will be in Chilton about four days after this letter; of course, I do not write by him.
It is probable that the box went with the ship which took your first cargo; but, as no one paid the least attention to the landing of the articles, nor to compare the delivery with the invoice, it may have been left on board. I will, however, write to New-York.
The story of P. is a fable. We are on the best terms, and he calls very often to see me. The elegy may now be seen in the newspaper, which, considering how nearly it touched you, I thought the best mode of communication. Avoid sights. You say nothing of the progress of housefurnishing and housekeeping.
Your last was sealed, as too often before, on the writing. If yourMaridenies you a sheet of paper to enclose a letter, pray lay outoneof your four hundred dollars for this purpose. Adieu, ma chere enfante.
P. S. Somebody (I believe the Spectator) says that a postscript is always the most important part of a lady's letter. This, then, will be feminine.
I have had three letters from Natalie. All full of interest and amusement. Her remarks are equal to those of Lady Mary W. Montague for their truth and spirit, and far superior to any of our diplomatic communications. She is to travel from Nantz to Paris (about four hundred and fifty miles)with her maid and postillion only: an enterprise which no woman in France under forty hath executed without shipwreck during the last hundred years. Yet Natalie will do it without injury and without suspicion. I have taught her to rely onherself, andIrely on her pride.
I have said, and truly, that the story of P. is a fable. It may, however, by remote concatenation, and with the aid of great fancy and a little malice, have grown out of a trifling and ridiculous incident which took place at New-York, and which I am sure you have heard. P. was laughed at, and has behaved better ever since. There are at least twenty (my neighbour, Mrs. Law, says fifty) such anecdotes now circulating in this vicinity,all equally unfounded. Without any appeal, therefore, you may contradict all such as are inconsistent not only with truth, but with probability. A lady of rank and consequence, who bad a great curiosity to see the vice-president, after several plans and great trouble at length was gratified, and she declared that be was the very ugliest man she had ever seen in her life. His bald head, pale hatchet visage, and harsh countenance, certainly verify the lady's conclusion.
Your very ugly and affectionate father,
Wilmington, March 15, 1802.
This will be delivered to you by Dr. A. Alexander, of Newcastle, in this state. He has ever been a uniform and firm friend to the principles of our late glorious revolution. He has served many years in the capacity of a senator, and also of a representative in our legislature, and can give you particular information as to the public pulse here. He is a personal friend of mine; one whom I can recommend in the strongest terms.
I had the pleasure of receiving yours of the 10th inst. on yesterday, and was very happy to hear from you. The advice you kindly give me I shall cheerfully take. It has ever been my maxim to be moderate but firm.Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re, should be an axiom with all politicians. We continue to progress in the high way of republicanism, and you will find, by our toasts, we have not forgot one of its ablest supporters. [4] With great personal regard,
Your sincere friend.
Washington, March 19, 1802.
From your letter of the 6th, received last evening, I infer that you are in some sort settled in your own house; that you pleased yourself on that day is very grateful; that, too, I should have inferred from the spirit of your letter. By the "attack on Sullivan's Island" was intended an attack on the plan of residence.
I am just going on an errand to Baltimore,de retouron Tuesday; so that by the next mail you will have nothing from me. Where will you be from the 10th to 15th May? In Charleston, Sullivan's Island, or Clifton? Is L. N. coming to live with you? I am quite charmed with John and Sally. Preparations for Baltimore occupy me so entirely that I cannot even think of you by this mail. Adieu.
March 20.
The preceding was written the morning of yesterday. I folded, and directed, and took it to Senate, thinking there to add a word. At ten last night I found it lying in my pocket. The weather (rain) has prevented my Baltimore jaunt which was planned for this day. The hope of an early adjournment recedes. In short, all is uncertainty. It will depend more on the thermometer than on the progress of business. When the heat shall be intolerable here, shall I set my face towards the sun? I think I will. If you had been in the mountains! but that is not so.
Natalie arrived in Paris the 31st December; her mother not there; but numerous friends, who fatigue her with civilities. Her heart is in the United States.
This will remain in the postoffice till the 23d. If, in the mean time,I receive a letter from you, a supplement will accompany this. Adieu.
Wilmington, March 20, 1802.
I have perused with much pleasure the papers enclosed in your highly-acceptable favours. The proposed state will possess the republican tone, and give additional weight to the scale which already so strongly preponderates. The repeal of all internal taxation will be sensibly felt by the people, and willpopularizeour administration. The expense of collecting those taxes, in consequence of the swarm of pensioners attached to them, points them out as the proper object of retrenchment. The brown-sugar gentry in Congress; your tea-sippers and salts-men (not Attic), who, by-the-by, have laid all those duties, cannotagitatethe public mind on those topics.
I am happy to discover in the proceedings of the republicans so much moderation, firmness, and unanimity. I trust their opponents will not hereafter think they wantnerve. This conduct forms a striking contrast with federal gasconade; and the effect of those things, in a free country, is not easily calculated by common rule.
The polite and kind invitation you give me I should certainly accept of if in my power. I had thought seriously of it some weeks back; but you must know I have purchased a little tract of land adjoining Dr. Tilton's, which I once showed you, and have cut out abundant work for the season. This, Dr. Tilton says, is to restore my health perfectly. There are many friends at Washington it would give me great pleasure to see, but none more than yourself.
Must sincerely yours,
Washington, March 29, 1802.
The sermon, for which I am indebted to your goodness, is now returned, with many thanks for the loan.
I have perused it with pleasure, and, I hope, profit. It is an excellent treatise, worthy of the attention of every man, and more emphatically so of men in high and responsible stations in government.
Our time is short, my friend, too short to allow an opportunity of retrieving almost any misspense of it; much more so to allow a redemption for any neglect to perform great public services when once happily in our power. God grant that you may be profited by this, and, in turn, be more profitable to this distracted nation.
New-York, March 30, 1802.
Yesterday I was favoured with your obliging letter of the 23d inst. by Mr. Peter Townsend; also, with a most beautiful silver medal from the die I have presented you. It is in the highest polish and perfection. In respect to the tin medal and its case, I have only heard of them from you, as I never received either, or a single line from Mr. Dallas. But men so much engaged in business seldom have time to attend to such small affairs.
When you see Dr. Murray, present my affectionate respects to him; he is, indeed, an old and highly esteemed friend. As to news, I never expect any from statesmen high in office. So far as the session of the Congress has proceeded,I, poor littleI, am satisfied with what they have done. Taxes and law diminished should be approved of by the many. The stricken deer will weep; but the powerful will, I trust, be generous to those who are not malignant. The charming Miss Church was, on Thursday, married to Mr. Cruger. But I have a more serious piece of news for your private ear. Young Secretary Sumter, on the passage to Europe, fell desperately in love with Miss Natalie d'Lage. They landed at Nantz, near her mother's chateau. The old lady is a furious royalist, and will not hear of her daughter's being married to a republican; perhaps you know more than I can tell you what is likely to be the result.
Mr. Townsend goes so immediately to Orange county, that he prevents my intended civilities; but I trust be will hereafter put it in my power to cultivate his acquaintance. For any thing I see, your session will be shortly over.
Judge Brockholst Livingston took his seat in the City Hall yesterday. This phenomenon (what shall I call it?) in office or in policy has caused a grumbling in the legislature, where it seems to be laid aside for future contention; but you will hear more from your correspondents. I am told it is nicknamed the Livingston act. My Mary is well, and has every desire to oblige you.
Affectionately yours,
New-York, April 3, 1802.
I am favoured with yours of the 30th ult., with its enclosure. The subject contained in my letter of the 22d to you has, in several instances, become so important, that I wrote yesterday to Mr. Gallatin on the same business.
You are, in general, so apt to decide promptly and correctly, that if you had at once told me my construction of the law referred to was right, I should have wanted no more. We begin to look better in the city—alarms are less frequent, confidence is gaining, and business increasing.
I have just received permission from the secretary of the treasury to make some additional inspectors. Mr. L. shall be gratified, but my authority is limited to the 15th of November next. If you have a particular wish for any other person, please let me know immediately.
Yours, truly,
Washington, April 5, 1802.
Different accidents and interruptions prevented me from writing by the two last mails; a very unusual omission, and thus happens what, I believe, has never before occurred, that I have two of your letters unanswered, those of the 19th and 22d, both affecting and interesting. The last of them acknowledges the receipt of a letter from me dated March 9th. Now, I did not write any letter under that date, it must be a forgery. On the 8th and 12th I did write to you.
It is, I hope and believe, true that Richmond Hill is competent to all purposes; but nothing is done nor can be speedily done. The thing constantly eludes a conclusion, and matters are, in fact, now as badly circumstanced as one year ago. When I left New-York I arranged my affairs ofall kindsfor six months' absence, which would extend to the middle of June, with the determination to go hence to South Carolina, in which determination I persist; yet you know thata single letter may take me in a contrary direction, and mar all my plans of pleasure. This, and this only, produces the instability of my resolutions, and the equivocal tenour of my letters on the subject of the visit.
Nothing certain can be predicated of the adjournment; but I am quite resolved not to remain here beyond the 25th, more probable that I may leave it on the 19th. In either case, it will be vain to address a letter to me at Washington after the receipt of this, as I shall not be here to receive it. My route will be through Richmond and Petersburgh to Fayetteville, and thence to Georgetown and Clifton, where I presume I shall find Papa Alston, Ellen, &c. You may address me a line to Richmond, and another to Fayetteville, merely to say how you are, and who more are dead. Recollecting, when you write, that it will be very uncertain whether they will reach me; still, on my arrival at those places, I shall be quite out of humour if I find no letter from you, andwill stay a weekat each place in hopes of receiving one.
I have ordered Vanderlyn to send you, from New-York, both his and Stuart's picture of A. Burr; and have told him to ship himself for the port of Charleston on the 1st of May.
I have also desired that my beautiful little bust of Bonaparte be sent to Mr. William Alston.
You may send a letter to meet me at Clifton, and two or three to each place if you find my movements so retarded as to admit a probability of their being received. Adieu.
Washington, April 12, 1802.
Your letter of the 29th came by the last mail, exactly, as heretofore, on the eighth day after the date of your last preceding. Whether it be invariably Sunday or not, at least it is always octo-diurnal. Pray get an eight-day clock, and then all family matters will move on in strict uniformity. Thank your husband for his letter about Mr. Law's indents.
The instability of all human concerns has been a theme of remark for the last 4000 years. Lately, very lately, I wrote you of my determination to leave this city on the 26th. I then thought so, as you will readily believe; because, why should I deceive my dear little Theodosia? Now this thing is altered, for reasons too numerous and mighty to be here enumerated; and, besides, you know our doctrine is not to give reasons, but to let the facts speak for themselves. On this occasion, however, even your hard heart would yield to the motives which govern me. The plan, I say, is all altered. Instead of leaving this fair region, as was gravely proposed, on the 26th of this month, the present project is to part from all I here hold dear on the 20th (thetwentieth) inst., which piece of caprice I hope you will pardon. If no letter intervenes before that day, Papa Alston may expect to see me in some twelve or fifteen days thereafter. I shall hope to find letters at Richmond, Fayetteville, &c. Adieu.
Clifton, May 3, 1802.
At the moment of my arrival on Friday evening I wrote you from Mr. Kinlock's. The day following (May 1) I came here, and, being without horses, sent on Sunday morning to engage the whole stage, which was to go to-morrow, and, as I understand, reaches Charleston in a day. Unfortunately, the stage was full—not even a seat vacant for the vice-president. I am, therefore, doomed to remain here one day longer, and to be two days on the road. My horses not having arrived, Mr. Alston will, on Wednesday morning, set out with me in his curricle. We shall dine and stay the night of Wednesday at Mrs. Mott's, and on the day following, Thursday evening, reach Charleston.
I now send my man George (late Azor Le Guen, now George d'Grasse) to Georgetown. If he can get a place in the stage, he goes on with my baggage; if not, he sends this letter, with all affectionate good wishes. William arrived here this afternoon, and tells us that you are well, and your husbandill. This is exactly wrong, unless he means to take the whole trouble off your hands, as some good husbands have heretofore done; so, at least, Darwin records. God bless thee, my dear Theodosia.
U. S. Ship Constellation, at Gibraltar, May 8, 1802.
As the frigate Philadelphia will sail in a few days for America, I cannot neglect so good an opportunity of writing, and returning you my sincere thanks for the marked civilities I have received at all times from you, particularly at New-York in the summer of 1800. Be assured, Sir, I feel the liveliest sense of the obligations I am under for the many favours conferred upon me, and shall ever feel extremely happy to have it in my power to render you any service.
Owing to our being perplexed with almost constant easterly winds, we did not make the land until the 24th ult., when we made Cape Canter, on the coast of Africa. On the 28th we got into the Straits of Gibraltar, but the wind heading us off the rock, we were obliged to bear away for Malaga. There we found the Essex and Philadelphia at anchor. On the 3d inst. we left Malaga, and arrived here in company with the Philadelphia and Essex on the 5th, and I expect to remain until Commodore Truxton arrives on the station.
While the ship lay at Malaga I had an opportunity of seeing every thing that could attract the eye of a stranger. The country round the city is extremely fertile, abounding with all the different kinds of fruit-trees. Indeed, the lower class of the Spaniards subsist almost entirely upon fruit, the produce of the country. The chief articles of exportation are grapes, figs, raisins, oranges, anchovies, wines, &c. Their streets are very narrow, running at random in every direction. Their houses are mostly built of marble, four stories high, different families occupying different stories of the same house. They have two or three forts, built on eminences adjacent to the city for its protection, but they are out of order and decaying.
I anticipate enjoying a very pleasant cruise, as we seem to be favoured with every thing that could render our situation agreeable. Captain Murray is one of the best of men, and treats us with all the kindness and attention we could wish. The climate is mild and healthy. The Tripolitans keep among themselves, and never venture out, so that we shall have nothing to do but to visit the different ports of the Mediterranean. The closest friendship and harmony prevails among the officers of the ship. Every thing, in short, that we could wish, we seem to have, to make our situation comfortable. Pray remember me kindly to Mrs. Alston, and believe me, with esteem and respect, your most obedient servant,
Virginia, Caroline, May 25, 1802.
Your favour, covering the medal struck to commemorate the most brilliant exploit of the American war, from some cause unknown to me, never arrived until this instant. It is particularly acceptable from the circumstance of my having imbibed a personal affection for General Gates by having served under him for a few months.
It would be quite premature in me to consider whether I would go into Congress unless it was probable that I could. The government have no means of providing for the gentleman you mention; and if they had, to do so for the purpose of making room for another might expose them to censures which they will hardly encounter. As to a voluntary resignation of his station, there are some circumstances in his case which do really justify him in refusing to do it, unless for some better prospect of public benefit.
Not until some days after you left this was it discovered that you had forgotten your travelling map. I lamented the inconveniences to which the oversight would expose you, but had no mode of removing them, despairing, from a recollection of your horses, that either of mine would be fleet enough to overtake you. The map could, therefore, only be taken care of for the purpose of being restored to you. Permit me to hope that you will allow me to do this at my own house as you return; and that you will apprize me of your resolution to do so, both that I may be at home and that I may enjoy the hope of your company before the pleasure is realized. Farewell.
Footnotes:
1. A paragraph cut from the Aurora.
2. Wood's History of John Adams's Administration.
3. The present Commodore James Biddle.
4. The vice-president, Colonel Burr. This letter was written more than a year after the presidential contest in Congress.
5. At that time a member of the United States Senate.
New-York, June 24, 1802.
We arrived yesterday morning, exactly the eighth day since I left you. Our passage was pleasant, inasmuch as we had no storms, and the most obliging, attentive captain. I never met with more unremitted politeness. He was constantly endeavouring to tempt my appetite by all the delicacies in his own stores. To the child he proved an excellent nurse when I was fatigued and the rest sick. We are now in my father's town-house. Mrs. Allen had gone up the North River before my arrival; thus I have seen neither her nor her sons. John is to return and be married in a few days.
I have just returned from a ride in the country and a visit to Richmond Hill. Never did I behold this island so beautiful. The variety of vivid greens; the finely-cultivated fields and gaudy gardens; the neat, cool air of the cit's boxes, peeping through straight rows of tall poplars, and the elegance of some gentlemen's seats, commanding a view of the majestic Hudson, and the high, dark shores of New-Jersey, altogether form a scene so lively, so touching, and to me now so new, that I was in constant rapture. How much did I wish for you to join with me in admiring it. With how much regret did I recollect some rides we took together last summer. Ah, my husband, why are we separated? I had rather have been ill on Sullivan's Island with you, than well separated from you. Even my amusements serve to increase my unhappiness; for if any thing affords me pleasure, the thought that, were you here, you also would feel pleasure, and thus redouble mine, at once puts an end to enjoyment. You do not know how constantly my whole mind is employed in thinking of you. Do you, my husband, think as frequently of your Theo., and wish for her? Do you really feel a vacuum in your pleasures? As for your wife, she has bid adieu to pleasure till next October. When, when will that month come? It appears to me a century off. I can scarcely yet realize to myself that we are to be so long separated. Do not imagine, however, that I mean to beg you to join me this summer. No, my husband, I know your reasons, and approve them. Your wife feels a consolation in talking of her sorrows to you; but she would think herself unworthy of you could she not find fortitude enough to bear them! God knows how delighted I shall be when once again in your arms; but how much would my happiness be diminished by recollecting that your advancement and interest suffered. When we meet, let there be nothing to alloy a happiness so pure, so unbounded. Our little boy grows charmingly; he is much admired here. The colour of his eyes is not yet determined. You shall know when it is.
As our papers were mixed, I left my writing-desk open; pray lock the drawers and desk both, and keep the key yourself.
Have you any rice on hand yet? It sells here for five dollars cash. If you have any, had you not better send it? Papa intends writing to you on the subject.
I began a letter to you this morning in time for the mail, but was prevented by innumerable visits, which commenced before I was dressed for breakfast. I am most impatiently waiting for a letter from you. I hope you wrote soon after my departure. I am counting every minute to next Wednesday, when I hope to receive one, though I have many fears it is too early. With how much anxiety do I expect a letter. Maybe, one of these days, I may tell you of a piece of weakness of mine on that subject; maybe, for I do not know whether it is quite right for a wife to display all her foibles in that way to her husband. We have not determined when or where we shall move in the country. It shall certainly not be long ere we leave the city.
Anna Pierpont is well. She and husband go on merrily. They love each other very much, and that is half the battle. She begged me not to omit giving a thousand loves to you. My love to the Hugers. Tell them I have seen Nancy. She looks better than they ever saw her. She has got a colour, and is so much more beautiful that I scarcely recognised her. Adieu, mon bien aimi.
New-York, June 26, 1802.
When, when will the month of October come? It appears to recede instead of approaching; and time, which extinguishes all other sorrows, serves but to increase mine; every moment I feel that I have lost so much of your society which can never be regained. Ah, my husband, what can be pleasure to your Theo., unassisted by the charms of your presence and participation? Nothing. It is an idea which has no place in my mind unconnected with you.
I send you M'Kenzie; there is no London edition in town more elegantly bound. Before my departure you complained grievously of the bad cigars sold in Charleston. In the hope that this city affords better, I send you a box containing a thousand; the seller took some trouble to choose the best for me, and I have added some Vanilla and Tonka beans to them. May the offering please my great Apollo! If you should do so rash a thing as to visit the city during the summer, pray smoke all the time you remain there; it creates an atmosphere round you, and prevents impure air from reaching you.
I wish, also, that you would never be in town before or after the middle of the day. I have somewhere heard that persons were less apt to catch infectious disorders at that time than any other, and I believe it. Have you never remarked how highly scented the air is before sunrise in a flower-garden, so much so as to render the smell of any flower totally imperceptible if you put it to your nose? That is, I suppose, because, when the sun acts with all his force, the air becomes so rarefied, that the quantity of perfume you inhale at a breath can have no effect; while, on the contrary, during the night, the vapours become so condensed that you perceive them in every blast. May not the same be the case with noxious vapours? It is said that the fever in Charleston does not arise from that, but the filth of the streets are quite enough to make one think otherwise. Perhaps I am wrong both in my reason and opinion. If so, you are able to correct; only do as you think best, and be prudent. It is all I ask. I imagine the subject worth a reflection, and you cannot err. Montesquieu says he writes to make people think; and why may not Theodosia?
We have this evening been to visit Mrs. Caines (late Mrs. Verplanck) at her country place. The marriage was thus published—Married, G.C., Esq., counsellor of law, from the West Indies,and now having a work in the press, to Mrs., &c. That work has been the cause of some curiosity and not a little amusement.
I dined the other day with Mrs. Montgomery. The chancellor has sent her out a list of statues, which are to be so exactly imitated in plaster as to leave the difference of materials only. The statues are, the Apollo Belvidere, Venus de Medicis, Laocoon and his children, Antinous, and some others. The patriotic citizens of New-York are now subscribing to the importation of a set here for the good of the public. If they are really perfect imitations, they will be a great acquisition to this city. But,selon moi, there is the difficulty. Our son looks charmingly. Adieu.
New-York, June 28, 1802.
And do you, indeed, miss your Theo.? Do you really find happiness indissolubly blended with her presence? Ah! my husband, how much more amiable you are as the man than as the philosopher! How much better your wife can love you! The latter character produces a distance between us; it so resembles coldness, that it annihilates all that free communication of the heart, that certainty of the most perfect sympathy and concord of feeling, which affords so much real happiness. Believe me, it is a very mistaken idea, that to discover sensibility at parting with a friend increases their sorrow. No; it consoles them. That apparent indifference, instead of lessening their pain at separation, only adds to it the mortification of finding themselves alone; wounds their feelings by the idea that, where they expected the most sincere reciprocity, they meet with the most calm tranquillity; and, above all, it is apt to make them involuntarily exclaim—If I am thus regretted, how little shall I be thought of! How soon forgotten! Never, then, my beloved, attempt to play the philosopher. If you see a friend weeping, weep with them. Sympathy is the sovereign cure for all wounds of the heart.
Your letter of the 16th, which I received yesterday, delighted me the more as it was unexpected. I did nothopeyou would have written so soon; still less did I imagine a letter from Charleston would reach this on the eleventh day after date. How anxious I am for to-morrow. Perhaps I may hear from you again.
S. appears more pleased with New-York than any person I ever saw from South Carolina. With the beauty of the country it is impossible not to be delighted, whether that delight is confessed or not; and every woman cannot fail to prefer the style of society, whatever she may say. If she denies it, she is set down in my mind as insincere and weakly prejudiced.
Pray write your journal this summer; you have little else to do. I should be charmed to find it finished on my return. Adieu.
New-York, July 3, 1802.
Your letter of the 19th of June, covering two for Theodosia, was received this morning. She, with Lady Nisbett and your boy, sailed yesterday for Red Hook (120 miles north) on a visit to Mrs. A., who had solicited this attention in terms and under circumstances which admitted of no refusal. The boy has grown surprisingly. The mother has recovered her appetite and spirits. I shall go up to take care of them in ten or fifteen days.
I desired your father to bring or send a barrel of rough rice (rice unpounded). The young Scotchman of whom I spoke to him has already invented a machine which I think will clean ten times as much as your pounding machine with the same power; that is, ten times as fast. Send the rice that we may try.
As to the publications of Cheetham and Wood, it is not worth while to write any thing by way of comment or explanation. It will, in due time, be known what they are, and what is Dewitt Clinton, their colleague and instigator. These things will do no harm to me personally. What effect they may have on the cause is a problem.
I forgot to pay Placide for two or three times bathing. Give him a guinea for me. Yours, affectionately,
New-York, July 5, 1802.
Your letter of the 22d of February, announcing your intended marriage, is this minute received. Nothing could be more grateful to me than your proposed connexion with Mr. Sumter. I know little of him personally, but his reputation and standing in society fully justify your choice, and I pray you to assure him that I shall most cordially take him to my bosom as a son. With his father I have been long acquainted, and always greatly respected him. We were fellow-soldiers during our revolutionary war, in which he acted a most distinguished part, though we were not then known to each other. We served together some years in Congress, and laboured in the same party. These circumstances never fail to generate attachments, and I am truly happy in being more closely allied to him.
I perceive, and with pleasure, that I shall pass much of my time in South Carolina, and shall divide it between you and Theodosia; but the mountains are my favourite residence. Which is my favourite daughter I have not yet been able to decide. We must not, however, abandon New-York. I will have you both here, if possible, every year, and at Richmond Hill you shall renew the recollection of the happy hours of your childhood.
I have been long impatient, my dear Natalie, to write you on this subject, but I waited for advice from yourself. I was mortified to learn from common reportonlyan event so nearly interesting, and which I had supposed you would have communicated to me the first. Your letter, however, has been long in America, and has travelled nearly two thousand miles in pursuit of me, having come in this morning from Charleston.
I arrived here on the 23d with Theodosia, her boy—a most lovely boy, and her sister, Lady Nisbett, who salutes you as a sister, and longs to embrace you. We had a most charming passage of seven days.
This is a great holyday. We are celebrating, with show and much noise, the 4th of July. This may appear to you a little ridiculous when you look at the date of this letter; but,madame, please to look at your almanac, and you will see that yesterday was Sunday. I should not have attempted to write to you amid so much bustle; but the good Mr. Arcambal came in just as I received your letter, and informed me that there was an immediate and safe opportunity to France, and I was impatient to express to you and your husband my participation in your joys, and hearty approbation of your union. God bless you, my dear child.
P.S. I have not received a line from your mamma in some years. I am not at all surprised at her repugnance to your marriage with a democrat, the son of a rebel. She must hate, above all things, democrats and rebels. But tell her, as doubtless you have told her a thousand times, that she is wrong; and that we are not like your French democrats. Encore, adieu.
New-York, September 3, 1802.
What a pity minds could not be made sensible of each other's approach! Why were we not so formed, that when your thoughts, your soul were with your Theo., hers could be enabled, by the finest sensation of sympathy, to meet it. How superior to writing would that be! A letter is a month old before it is received; by that time other thoughts and subjects engage the writer. The sentiments expressed in it seem no longer warm from the heart. I have been all this evening divining your occupation. Sometimes I imagine you writing or reading, and then the hope that you are thinking of me arises. Pray what have you been doing? If you can possibly recollect, let me know. After all, it is more than probable that you have been smoking with Huger, entirely absorbed in your society and segar.
How does your election advance? I am anxious to know something of it; not from patriotism, however. It little concerns me which party succeeds. Where you are, there is my country, and in you are centred all my wishes.
Were you a Brutus, I should be a Roman. But were you a Caesar, I should only wish glory to Rome that glory might be yours. As long as you love me, I am nothing on earth but your wife and your friend: contented and proud to be that.
Mr. M'Pherson is much better. He sits up—I mean out of bed, a great part of the day. Mr.——- spent about three hours with him yesterday. What a Chesterfieldian that is; he has not had the civility to call on me, although you were so attentive to him. He has grown sentimental. He caught a moscheto the other day, and kept it under a tumbler to meditate on, because it reminded him of Carolina, and consequently of Miss ——-. What man under heaven ever before discovered an analogy between a moscheto and his mistress? I am very happy you have chosen chess for your amusement. It keeps you constantly in mind how poor kings fare without their queens. Our little one has been very amiable to-day. Adieu.
New-York, July 19, 1802.
On Saturday (17th) Mr. and Mrs. Alston, Lady Nisbett, and Charlotte took passage for Red Hook. The wind has been so favourable that they undoubtedly arrived yesterday before dinner. Charlotte had three or four fits of ague and fever, but had escaped two days before she sailed, and was again in health.
You will herewith receive the second book. The malice and the motives are in this so obvious, that it will tend to discredit the whole. The charges which are of any moment will be shown to be mere fabrications. But there seems at present to be no medium of communication. The printers, called republican in this city (Denniston and Cheetham), are devoted to the Clintons, one of them (Denniston) being nephew of the governor, and, of course, cousin to Dewitt. Wood, after absconding for some time, returned to this city, was put in jail, where he lay some days and until taken out byColeman. You will shortly receive an explanation of this controversy, but not from me. Very affectionately yours,
New-York, August 2, 1802.
Your letter of the 18th is received. Mr. Williams had before shown me the pamphlet, and had informed me that it had produced all the effect that the writer could have wished, which is the best evidence of the merit of the work. It is evidently a hasty performance, and incorrectly printed, yet it displays ability as a writer, and sentiments honourable to him as a man.
Wood's book has surprised us. We all expected a new series of abuse against A.B. It should be entitled "The Confessions of John Wood, one of the Conspirators lately associated with James Cheetham and Dewitt Clinton against the vice-president." It shows pretty clearly the motives and views of this clan.
The enclosed paper will give you the particulars of the affair of Swartwout and Clinton. You will perceive that the latter indirectly acknowledges that he is an agent in the calumnies against me.
I am about to take possession of Richmond Hill for the reception of Theodosia and her boy, and shall go for them in about ten days. We propose to pass part of September in Orange county.
The letter herewith enclosed came to me under ablankcover; through inattention, I broke the seal without looking at the superscription. The first sentence betrayed my error, and I have scolded her a good deal for her blank cover. Affectionately yours,
New-York, August 8, 1802.
With extreme reluctance,madame, I am constrained to resign to Dr. Brown the honour of escorting you hither. The circumstances which have led to this measure are briefly noted in a letter which I have this day written you by the mail.
By Tuesday the 9th inst. I shall be settled at Richmond Hill, ready to receive you and your incumbrances. Tell Mr. and Mrs. Alston, &c., that I hope there to have the pleasure of accommodating them more to their satisfaction than was in my power in the little mansion in Broadway.
The moment you shall receive this, send a line for me to the postoffice, saying how you are, when you will move, &c. Leave with the postmaster a written direction to forward to New-York all letters for Mrs. Joseph Alston. I recommend to you to go round by Stockbridge to see Binney. She is there at the house of Mr. Bidwell. You will also there see your old great-uncle Edwards. But this is left to your discretion. If you go through Pittsfield, you should call and see H. Van Schaack, for whom Dr. Brown has a letter of credence. Make your journey perfectly at your ease;id est, with dignified leisure. Write me at every post-town, for I shall have a deal of impatience and anxiety about you and your little nonentity.
All your friends here are well except George's dog and one of his South Carolina birds. We are all in the bustle of moving. Heighho! for Richmond Hill. What a pity you were not here, you do so love a bustle; and then you, and the brat, and the maid, and thirty trunks would add so charmingly to the confusion. Adieu.
New-York, September 8, 1802.
The debility and loss of appetite which your wife has experienced alarmed me; yet I was totally ignorant of the cause. I was first informed of it by Dr. Bard, who came accidentally to this city about a fortnight ago. He, with Hosack and Brown, all of whom I consulted, joined with me in opinion that she ought immediately to wean her child or provide a wet nurse. This she peremptorily refused, and the bare proposition occasioned so many tears and so much distress that I abandoned it. Within the last three days, however, she has such a loss of appetite and prostration of strength, that she is satisfied of the necessity of the measure for the sake of the child, if not for herself; and I have this day sent off a man to the country to find a suitable nurse. The complaint continued from the period of herconfinementduring the whole time that she remained in Charleston.
It is most unfortunate that she left the Springs. While she was there, either by means of the air or the water, or perhaps both, she had got quite rid of the complaint, and there is no doubt but that, had she remained there a fortnight longer, the cure would have been radical. The ride to Hudson, only thirty miles, brought on a relapse; and, with slight variations, the affliction was increased and her strength diminished. Bard advised the Springs, and was quite angry that she left them.
There is nothing in this disorder which immediately threatens life; nor is it, at present, attended with pain; but if it should become fixed upon her, of which there is danger unless speedily cured, it will unfit her for every duty and every enjoyment in life. The medicines, which under the direction of Bard she used at Lebanon, have hitherto proved ineffectual since her return. I have written fully to Eustis, and expect his answer within two or three days.
The present state of her health and strength will not, I think, admit of an attempt to take her to either of the Springs, or I should not hesitate to go off immediately with her. I have, however, strong and well-grounded hopes that, when she shall have a nurse, and resume the use of proper remedies, a cure will be effected.
I have thought that you ought to be informed of these facts, as well to explain the varied accounts which you may have received of her health, as to anticipate the vague or exaggerated relations which you may receive through other channels.
Most affectionately yours,
New-York, September 30, 1802.
Another mail has arrived, but to your Theo. it has brought only unhappiness. It is now a week since I received your last letter. You are ill. You have been imprudent, and all my fears are fulfilled. Without any one near you to feel for you, to attend to you, to watch every change and share every pain. Your wife only could do that. It is her whose soul clings to yours, and vibrates but in harmony with it; whose happiness, whose every emotion, more than entirely dependant on yours, are exchanged for them. It is she only who forgets herself in you, and who, in gratifying your wishes or alleviating your pain, serves the interest nearest her heart. I know you have friends with you; but, when you lose your vivacity, and your society is robbed of its usual charms, they will find your chamber dull, and leave it for some more amusing place. They cannot, like your little Theo., hang over you in your sleep, and, with a beating heart, listen to every groan and tremble at every noise. Your son, too, were we with you, would charm away your cares. His smiles could not fail to sooth any pain. They possess a magic which you cannot conceive till you see him. Would we were with you, my beloved. I am miserable about you. Adieu. Heaven bless my husband, and I am happy.
New-York, October 30, 1802.
I have just received yours of the 21st. You already know the result of my confinement in bed. It certainly relieved me for some time, which proves how easily that cure would have succeeded at first. I have now abandoned all hope of recovery. I do not say it in a moment of depression, but with all my reason about me. I am endeavouring to resign myself with cheerfulness; and you also, my husband, must summon up your fortitude to bear with a sick wife the rest of her life. At present, my general health is very good; indeed, my appearance so perfectly announces it, that physicians smile at the idea of my being an invalid. The great misfortune of this complaint is, that one may vegetate forty years in a sort of middle state between life and death, without the enjoyment of one or the rest of the other.
You will now see your boy in a few days, and you will really be very much pleased with him. He is a sweet little rascal. If Heaven grant him but to live, I shall never repent what he has cost me. Adieu.