The climate here is charming. The weather is every day pleasant as the month of May; soft, mild air; some foggy days, and about ten or twelve days in January were cold and icy. But we have had scarce three inches of snow the whole winter. The climate is more favorable to my const.i.tution than ours. The cookery and manner of living here, which you know Americans were taught by their former absurd masters to dislike, is more agreeable to me than you can imagine. The manners of the people have an affection in them that is very amiable. There is such a choice of elegant entertainments in the theatric way, of good company, and excellent books, that nothing would be wanting to me in this country but my family and peace to my country, to make me one of the happiest of men. John Bull would growl and bellow at this description. Let him bellow if he will, for he is but a brute.
249. JOHN ADAMS.
Pa.s.sy, 27 February, 1779.
The weather continuing fine, I went to Saint Denis, a little village about eight miles from this place, where are the tombs of all the kings and queens. The statues of all lie in state in marble. The church is called the royal Church of Saint Denis, is magnificent, and there is an apartment in a chamber, where the crowns and many other curiosities are preserved. It is curious to see such a collection of gold, ivory, and precious stones, as there is every species, I suppose, that is mentioned in the Revelation. The diamonds and rubies glitter. But I confess I have so much of the savage sachem in me that these things make no great impression upon me. There are several little crucifixes here, which the ecclesiastic who showed them told us were made of bits of the true cross. This may be, for anything that I know.
In my return, I took a circuit round by Montmartre, and dined at home with the Dr.,[204] who has a fit of the gout, but is getting better.
The situation in which my masters have left me puzzles me very much.
They have said nothing to me. But one set of gentlemen write that I am to go to Spain, another to Holland, a third to Vienna; upon the whole, I believe they don"t intend to send me to either, but leave me to stay here in a ridiculous situation, or return home if I can get there. I shall return unless I should receive, before the time arrives for the vessel to sail, orders which I can execute with honor and with a prospect of rendering some service to the public. But of these two last points I will judge for myself.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 204: Franklin.]
250. ABIGAIL ADAMS.
20 March, 1779.
My dearest Friend,--Your favor of December 9th came to hand this evening from Philadelphia. By the same post I received a letter from Mr. Lovell, transcribing some pa.s.sages from one of the same date to him, and the only one, he says, which he has received since your absence, and his pocket-book proves that he has written eighteen different times; yet possibly you may have received as few from him. The watery world alone can boast of large packets received,--a discouraging thought when I take my pen. Yet I will not be discouraged. I will persist in writing, though but one in ten should reach you. I have been impatient for an opportunity, none having offered since January, when the _Alliance_ sailed, which, my presaging mind a.s.sures me, will arrive safe in France, and I hope will return as safely.
Accept my thanks for the care you take of me, in so kindly providing for me the articles you mention. Should they arrive safe, they will be a great a.s.sistance to me. The safest way, you tell me, of supplying my wants is by drafts; but I cannot get hard money for bills. You had as good tell me to procure diamonds for them; and, when bills will fetch but five for one, hard money will exchange ten, which I think is very provoking; and I must give at the rate of ten, and sometimes twenty, for one, for every article I purchase. I blush whilst I give you a price current: all butcher"s meat from a dollar to eight shillings per pound; corn twenty-five dollars, rye thirty, per bushel; flour fifty pounds per hundred; potatoes ten dollars per bushel; b.u.t.ter twelve shillings a pound, cheese eight; sugar twelve shillings a pound; mola.s.ses twelve dollars per gallon; labor six and eight dollars a day; a common cow from sixty to seventy pounds; and all English goods in proportion. This is our present situation. It is a risk to send me anything across the water, I know; yet if one in three arrives, I should be a gainer. I have studied, and do study, every method of economy in my power; otherwise a mint of money would not support a family. I could not board our two sons under forty dollars per week apiece at a school. I therefore thought it most prudent to request Mr. Thaxter to look after them, giving him his board and the use of the office, which he readily accepted, and, having pa.s.sed the winter with me, will continue through the summer, as I see no probability of the times speedily growing better.
We have had much talk of peace through the mediation of Spain, and great news from Spain, and a thousand reports, as various as the persons who tell them. Yet I believe slowly, and rely more upon the information of my friend than on all the whole legion of stories which rise with the sun, and set as soon. Respecting Georgia,[205] other friends have written you. I shall add nothing of my own, but that I believe it will finally be a fortunate event to us.
Our vessels have been fortunate in making prizes, though many were taken in the fall of the year. We have been greatly distressed for [want of]
grain. I scarcely know the looks or taste of biscuit or flour for this four months; yet thousands have been much worse off, having no grain of any sort.
The great commotion raised here by Mr. Deane has sunk into contempt for his character; and it would be better for him to leave a country which is now supposed to have been injured by him. His friends are silent, not knowing how to extricate him. It would be happy for him if he had the art himself. He most certainly had art enough, in the beginning, to blow up a flame, and to set the whole continent in agitation.
23 April.
More than a month has pa.s.sed away since writing the above, and no opportunity has yet offered of conveying you a line; next to the pain of not receiving is that of not being able to send a token of remembrance and affection. (You must excuse my not copying, as paper is ten dollars per quire.) Last week a packet arrived from Brest with dispatches for Congress, but no private letters. I was disappointed, but did not complain. You would have written, I know, had you supposed she was coming to Boston. By her we heard of the safe arrival of the _Alliance_ in France, which gave me much pleasure. May she have as safe a return to us again. Last week, arrived here the frigate _Warren_, after a successful cruise. She had been out about six weeks, in company with the _Queen of France_, and the _Ranger_, Captain Jones. They fell in with and captured a fleet bound from New York to Georgia, consisting of ship _Jason_, twenty guns and one hundred and fifty men; ship _Maria_, sixteen guns, eighty-four men, having on board eighteen hundred barrels of flour; privateer schooner _Hibernian_, eight guns and forty-five men; brigs _Patriot_, _Prince Frederick_, _Bachelor John_, and schooner _Chance_; all of which are safe arrived, to the universal joy and satisfaction of every well-wisher of his country. The officers who were captured acknowledge that this loss will be severely felt by the enemy, and it is hoped that it will give General Lincoln important advantages over him in Georgia.
Respecting domestic affairs, I shall do tolerably whilst my credit is well supported abroad; and my demands there shall be as small as possible, considering the state of things here; but I cannot purchase a bushel of grain under three hard dollars, though the scarcity of that article makes it dearer than other things. Our friends here all desire to be remembered to you. I remind your daughter to write and she promises to, but she does not love it. Charley is very busy gardening, sends his duty, and hopes to write soon. My pen is very bad, but you are so used to the hand you can pick it out, and if it goes into the sea, it is no matter. I should be very glad of some woolens by the _Alliance_, for winter gowns; nothing will be amiss, unless it be men"s white silk stockings, which I have no occasion for. I suppose the pair sent among the letters which came in the _Mifflin_, an accident.
My pen is really so bad that I cannot add any further than that I am wholly
Yours.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 205: This alludes to the movements made under the direction of General Prevost for the subjection of that colony.]
251. JOHN ADAMS.
L"Orient, 14 May, 1779.
When I left Paris, the 8th of March, I expected to have been at home before this day, and have done my utmost to get to sea, but the embarra.s.sments and disappointments I have met with have been many, very many. I have, however, in the course of them, had a fine opportunity of seeing Nantes, L"Orient, and Brest, as well as the intermediate country.
By the gracious invitation of the King, I am now to take pa.s.sage in his frigate, the _Sensible_, with his new Amba.s.sador to America, the Chevalier de la Luzerne. I hope to see you in six or seven weeks. Never was any man in such a state of uncertainty and suspense as I have been from last October, entirely uninformed of the intentions of Congress concerning me. This would not have been very painful to me if I could have got home. Your conversation is a compensation to me for all other things.
My son has had a great opportunity to see this country; but this has unavoidably r.e.t.a.r.ded his education in some other things. He has enjoyed perfect health, from first to last, and is respected wherever he goes, for his vigor and vivacity both of mind and body, for his constant good humor, and for his rapid progress in French as well as his general knowledge, which, for his age, is uncommon. I long to see his sister and brothers. I need not add--
252. ABIGAIL ADAMS.
8 June, 1779.
Six months have already elapsed since I heard a syllable from you or my dear son, and five since I have had one single opportunity of conveying a line to you. Letters of various dates have lain months at the Navy Board, and a packet and frigate, both ready to sail at an hour"s warning, have been months waiting the orders of Congress. They no doubt have their reasons, or ought to have, for detaining them. I must patiently wait their motions, however painful it is; and that it is so, your own feelings will testify. Yet I know not but you are less a sufferer than you would be to hear from us, to know our distresses, and yet be unable to relieve them. The universal cry for bread, to a humane heart, is painful beyond description, and the great price demanded and given for it verifies that pathetic pa.s.sage of Sacred Writ, "All that a man hath will he give for his life." Yet He who miraculously fed a mult.i.tude with five loaves and two fishes has graciously interposed in our favor, and delivered many of the enemy"s supplies into our hands, so that our distresses have been mitigated. I have been able as yet to supply my own family, sparingly, but at a price that would astonish you.
Corn is sold at four dollars, hard money, per bushel, which is equal to eighty at the rate of exchange.
Labor is at eight dollars per day, and in three weeks it will be at twelve, it is probable, or it will be more stable than anything else.
Goods of all kinds are at such a price that I hardly dare mention it.
Linens are sold at twenty dollars per yard; the most ordinary sort of calicoes at thirty and forty; broadcloths at forty pounds per yard; West India goods full as high; mola.s.ses at twenty dollars per gallon; sugar four dollars per pound; bohea tea at forty dollars; and our own produce in proportion; butcher"s meat at six and eight shillings per pound; board at fifty and sixty dollars per week; rates high. That, I suppose, you will rejoice at; so would I, did it remedy the evil. I pay five hundred dollars, and a new Continental rate has just appeared, my proportion of which will be two hundred more. I have come to this determination, to sell no more bills, unless I can procure hard money for them, although I shall be obliged to allow a discount. If I sell for paper, I throw away more than half, so rapid is the depreciation; nor do I know that it will be received long. I sold a bill to Blodget at five for one, which was looked upon as high at that time. The week after I received it, two emissions were taken out of circulation, and the greater part of what I had proved to be of that sort; so that those to whom I was indebted are obliged to wait, and before it becomes due, or is exchanged, it will be good for--as much as it will fetch, which will be nothing, if it goes on as it has done for this three months past. I will not tire your patience any longer. I have not drawn any further upon you. I mean to wait the return of the _Alliance_, which with longing eyes I look for. G.o.d grant it may bring me comfortable tidings from my dear, dear friend, whose welfare is so essential to my happiness that it is entwined around my heart and cannot be impaired or separated from it without rending it asunder.
In contemplation of my situation, I am sometimes thrown into an agony of distress. Distance, dangers, and oh, I cannot name all the fears which sometimes oppress me, and harrow up my soul. Yet must the common lot of man one day take place, whether we dwell in our own native land or are far distant from it. That we rest under the shadow of the Almighty is the consolation to which I resort, and find that comfort which the world cannot give. If He sees best to give me back my friend, or to preserve my life to him, it will be so.
Our worthy friend, Dr. Winthrop[206] is numbered with the great congregation, to the inexpressible loss of Harvard College.
"Let no weak drop Be shed for him. The virgin, in her bloom Cut off, the joyous youth, and darling child, These are the tombs that claim the tender tear And elegiac song. But Winthrop calls For other notes of gratulation high, That now he wanders through those endless worlds He here so well descried, and wondering talks, And hymns their Author with his glad compeers."
The testimony he gave with his dying breath, in favor of revealed religion, does honor to his memory and will endear it to every lover of virtue. I know not who will be found worthy to succeed him.
Congress have not yet made any appointment of you to any other Court.
There appears a dilatoriness, an indecision, in their proceedings. I have in Mr. Lovell an attentive friend, who kindly informs me of everything which pa.s.ses relative to you and your situation, and gives me extracts of your letters both to himself and others. I know you will be unhappy whenever it is not in your power to serve your country, and wish yourself at home, where at least you might serve your family. I cannot say that I think our affairs go very well here. Our currency seems to be the source of all our evils. We cannot fill up our Continental army by means of it. No bounty will prevail with them. What can be done with it?
It will sink in less than a year. The advantage the enemy daily gains over us is owing to this. Most truly did you prophesy, when you said that they would do all the mischief in their power with the forces they had here.
Many letters are lying in Boston for you, which have been written months. My good uncle Smith yesterday let me know that a letter of marque, bound for Nantes, would sail in a day or two. I eagerly seized the opportunity, and beg you to give my blessing to my son, to whom I have not time now to write. I dare not trust myself with the idea, nor can express how ardently I long to see both parent and son. Our whole family has enjoyed great health in your absence; daughter and sons, who delight in talking of papa and brother, present their duty and love. I shall not write for anything until the _Alliance_ returns, and I find what success she has had.
My tenderest regards ever attend you. In all places and situations, know me to be ever, ever yours.