Why did you undertake that very laborious task you mention? "Tis certain I have a great pleasure in spending money, but not when it is accompanied with the unpleasant reflection of sacrificing your health to the pursuit.
Theo. is much better; she writes and ciphers from five in the morning to eight, and also the same hours in the evening. This prevents our riding at those hours, except Sat.u.r.day and Sunday, otherwise I should cheerfully follow your directions, as I rise at five or six every day.
Theo. makes amazing progress at figures. Though Louisa has worked at them all winter, and appeared quite an adept at first, yet Theo. is now before her, and a.s.sists her to make her sums. You will really be surprised at her improvement. I think her time so well spent that I shall not wish to return to town sooner than I am obliged. She does not ride on horseback, though Frederick has a very pretty riding horse he keeps for her; but were she to attempt it now, there would be so much jealousy, and so many would wish to take their turn, that it would really be impracticable. But we have the best subst.i.tute imaginable. As you gave me leave to dispose of the old wheels as I pleased, I gave them as my part towards a wagon; we have a good plain Dutch wagon, that I prefer to a carriage when at Pelham, as the exercise is much better. We ride in numbers and are well jolted, and without dread. "Tis the most powerful exercise I know. No Spring seats; but, like so many pigs, we bundle together on straw. Four miles are equal to twenty. It is really an acquisition. I hope you will see our little girl rosy cheeked and plump as a partridge. I rejoice with you at the poor major"s return. I grow lazy, and love leisure; and, above all, the privilege of disposing of my own time with quiet and retirement when it suits me. I have also made choice of the little study for my own apartment; but with so large a family, and so few conveniences, there can be no place of retirement. The vacation hours of school, and Sunday, there is a constant hurlyburly, and every kind of noise, though it is really much better than I feared. I take all things as philosophically as I know how; provided I have no real evil to struggle with, I pa.s.s on with the tumult. I am now writing in the midst of it. The variety of sounds almost dim my sight; but I write on, and trust to good luck more than reflection, I find so much to say that I need not hesitate for matter, though I might for propriety of speaking. My spirits are better: as to industry, it is of a very flighty kind, and so variegated that it will not bear description. It required some attention to get matters _en train_: it was like moving.
My disorder I have not, nor am not able to attend to; "tis attended with so many disagreeable circ.u.mstances that it is not practicable at present; but my general health is greatly improved, and my head much relieved. The hint you give respecting a rib for Frederick is more elating than I can express. You say nothing of B. That part of my pet.i.tion was not less interesting. I humbly pray your honour may take into consideration the equity and propriety of my prayer, and grant me not only a hearing, but deign to give due consideration to the prayer of your humble pet.i.tioner, being confident she will find grace and mercy from your tribunal, with a full grant of all your endeavours to reinstate her in that desired tranquillity whose source is in your breast, to that happiness which is suspended on your will.
The heat and drought exceed all recollection. The town is extremely unhealthy. It is fortunate we are here. There is always air--never heat enough to incommode one. I am certain the child would have suffered in town; she was much reduced; her voice and breast were weak. Adieu. I think you must be tired before this. Attend to yourself. If you love us, you will. You will for your
THEODOSIA BURR.
FROM MRS. BURR.
Pelham, 27th July, 1791.
I have lost some of your letters, and I make no doubt some of mine have met the same fate; for this reason I am discouraged trusting any more to the stage. I am obliged to wait with all the patience I can command till the boat returns from town. I have no prospect at present of forwarding this. I write to repeat my thanks for yours of the 17th.
It is the last I have received. I read it frequently, and always with new pleasure. I was disappointed at not having a line from you by the Sat.u.r.day"s mail. It is not fair to stand on punctilio, when you know the disadvantages attending my situation here. You ought to be doubly attentive _pour me soulager_. It is not so practicable to send some miles from home twice a week as you imagine.
Poor Dr. Wright had his house two days ago burnt to the ground, and all the furniture, with every article of clothing both of themselves and the children. She is very disconsolate, and much to be pitied. We certainly see the old proverb very often verified. "That misfortunes never come singly," that poor little woman is a proof. They talk of a general war in Europe; in that case _le moulin_ will be an object. We wait your return to determine all things. The Emperess of Russia is as successful as I wish her. What a glorious figure will she make on the historical page! Can you form an idea of a more happy mortal than she will be when seated on the throne of Constantinople? How her ambition will be gratified; the opposition and threats of Great Britain, &c.
will increase her triumph. I wish I had wit and importance enough to write her a congratulatory letter. The ladies should deify her, and consecrate a temple to her praise. It is a diverting thought, that the mighty Emperor of the Turks should be subdued by a woman. How enviable that she alone should be the avenger of her s.e.x"s wrongs for so many ages past. She seems to have awakened Justice, who appears to be a sleepy dame in the cause of injured innocence.
Am I dreaming, or do you leave home again before you go to Philadelphia? Tell all your intentions; I love to plan and arrange.
Our blind state here is one of our most vexatious evils; that state of uncertainty damps every view, and converts our most pleasing hopes into the most disappointing reflections.
Hy! ho! for the major. [1] I am tired to death of living in a nursery.
It is very well to be amused with children at an idle hour; but their interruption at all times is insupportable to a person of common reflection. My nerves will not admit of it. You judge right as to the roads on the Neck.
Theodosia is quite recovered, and makes great progress at ciphering. I cannot say so much in favour of her writing. I really think she lost the last month she went to Shepherd. She has not improved since last spring. She is sensible of it, is the reason she is not very desirous to give you a specimen. We now keep her chiefly at figures, which she finds very difficult, particularly to proportion them, and place them straight under each other.
I will conclude my scrawl in the hope that Frederick will be able to forward it for me. Adieu. Remember to answer all my questions, and to take all my prayers in serious consideration. Be attentive to your health, and you will add to the happiness of your
THEODOSIA.
TO MRS. BURR.
Albany, 31st July, 1791.
At length expectation is gratified, and my hopes--even my wishes, fulfilled. Your letters of the 16th and 23d came both by the last post. Their ease, their elegance, and, above all, the affection they contain, are truly engaging and amiable. Be a.s.sured that pet.i.tions so clothed and attended are _irresistible_.
I antic.i.p.ate with increasing impatience the hour of leaving this place, and am making every possible exertion to advance it. The delay of two days at Red Hook is indispensable, but will cost me much regret.
I finished on Monday last, tolerably to my own satisfaction, and I believe entirely to that of my employers, the business so often mentioned to you. I received in reward for my labour many thanks, twenty half joes, and promises of more of both of these articles.
The last post is the only one I have missed since I left Esopus. I was in court upon a trial which gave me not a moment"s intermission till ten o"clock that evening. Though I do not pay you in quality and manner (for yours are, without flattery, inimitable), I believe I am nothing in arrear in number or quant.i.ty. The present is indeed a poor return for your two last; but though you miss of the recompense in this sheet, you will find it in the heart of your
A. BURR.
TO MRS. BURR.
Philadelphia, 27th October, 1791.
I have this day received your letter dated Sunday morning. It came, not by Mr. Sedgwick, but by the post, and was not put into the postoffice until Tuesday. It was therefore wicked of you not to add a line of that date. I am surprised to find that you had not received my letter from Brunswick. The illness I then wrote you of increased the next day, so that I did not arrive in town until Sunday. I am still at Miss Roberts"s, and unsettled, but hope to be to-morrow in tolerable winter-quarters. I have had some trouble on that head, as well because I am difficult to please, as because good accommodations are difficult to find.
I receive many attentions and civilities. Many invitations to dine, &c. All of which I have declined, and have not eaten a meal except at my own quarters. You see, therefore, how little amus.e.m.e.nt you are to expect. I called at Mrs. L."s (the elder), but have not seen either her, or as yet called to see her daughter. I have no news of Brooks, and am distressed by his delay, having scarcely decent clothes. I prudently brought a coat, but nothing to wear with it, and the expectation of Brooks has prevented me from getting any thing here.
Send me a waistcoat, white and brown, such as you designed. You know I am never pleased except with your taste.
I wrote you the day after my arrival here, but it being past the post hour, kept it till Tuesday; made a small addition, and gave it to Mat.
to carry to the office. He put it into his coat-pocket (I suppose with his pocket-handkerchief, which you know be has occasion to flourish along the street). On the day following, with a face of woe, he told me he had lost the letter, but had concealed it from me in hopes to have found it. I hope it may fall into good-natured hands, and so got eventually into the postoffice. It was short and stupid; unusually so, which perhaps vexed me the more for the loss. Be a.s.sured you have nothing to regret.
This letter can have nothing to recommend it but good-will and length, though the latter, without some other merit, ought to condemn it; and it would, I am sure, with any but you, who will give the best construction to any thing from your
A. BURR.
TO MRS. BURR.
Philadelphia, 30th October, 1791.
I am at length settled in winter-quarters. The house stands about twenty yards back from the street, and is inhabited by two widows. The mother about seventy, and the daughter about fifty. The latter, however, has her home in the country, and comes to town occasionally.
The old lady is deaf, and upon my first coming to take possession of my lodgings, she with great civility requested that I would never attempt to speak to her, for fear of injuring my lungs without being able to make her hear. I shall faithfully obey this injunction. The house is remarkably quiet, orderly, and is well furnished. They have never before taken a person to board, and will take no other.
The honour which I have always done to your taste, and which indeed it merits, ought to have a.s.sured you that your advice requires no apology. I shall adopt your ideas about the wheels. If at the same time you had caused the commission to be executed, you would have added civility to good intentions.
Theodosia must not attempt music in the way she was taught last spring. For the present, let it be wholly omitted. Neither would I have her renew her dancing till the family are arranged. She can proceed in her French, and get some teacher to attend her in the house for writing and arithmetic. She has made no progress in the latter, and is even ignorant of the rudiments. She was hurried through different rules without having been able to do a single sum with accuracy. I would wish her to be also taught geography if a proper master can be found; but suspend this till the arrival of the major.
It is remarkable I that you should find yourself so soon discouraged from writing, because you had written one letter before you had received one. I had written you two before the receipt of your first.
But I shall in future expect two or three for one, as the labour of business will prevent my writing frequently.
Remember the note to be put in the bank on Wednesday. If Bartow should not arrive, send Strong for Willet. Adieu.
Yours,
A. Burr.
TO MRS. BURR.
Philadelphia, 14th November, 1791.
I recollect nothing of the letter I wrote to you, and which is referred to in yours of the 9th. You have no forgiveness to ask or to receive of me. If it was necessary, you had it even at the moment I read your letter. You mistake the nature of my emotions. They had nothing of asperity; but it is useless to explain them. I did it partially in a letter I wrote soon after that which I sent you in answer to yours. It was not such a letter as I ought to have written, or you would have wished to receive; I therefore retained it. In what way, or to what degree, I am affected by your letter of the 9th, will not be told until we meet. Be a.s.sured, however, that I look forward to that time with impatience and antic.i.p.ate it with pleasure. It rests wholly with you, and your conduct on this occasion will be a better index to your heart than any thing you can write.
I enclose you a newspaper of this evening, containing a report by Mr.