The cold weather of the last ten days has had a happy effect on Theodosia. She is so far restored that I can with confidence a.s.sure you she will return in health. The boy, too, grows fat and rosy with the frost. They have taken pa.s.sage in the brig Enterprise, Captain Tombs, the same with whom we came last June. She will have the control of the cabin, and will be perfectly well accommodated. I regret she will sail so soon (the 12th), as well because I cannot attend her as that I could have wished her health and that of the boy to have been still more confirmed. Yet I cannot any longer resist her impatience.
You must not delay your journey to Columbia in expectation of her arrival. It is important that you be on the ground the first day, and it is to be desired that you could be there two or three days before the commencement of the session. If you should be gone, she projects to follow you, of which I advise you, that you may leave your directions. When you shall see her and son, you will not regret this five months" separation. I rejoice that you are to meet Major Pinckney on the floor of your a.s.sembly. "_The Citizen_" (Cheetham and Denniston"s), in publishing a list of members chosen in Charleston and its vicinity, omitted your name; but took care to add, by way of extract from a pretended letter, that the Alstons were of no consideration or influence in South Carolina. There is no bound to the malice of these people. The conspiracy was formed last winter at Washington. A little reflection will indicate to you the description of men, the motives, and the object of this combination.
Apologize for me to Ch. Marshall that I do not fulfil my engagement to accompany him from Charleston to Washington. I hope you will bring him with you.
Would Charles Lee accept the place of secretary of the Senate? It is worth twenty-three hundred dollars per annum, and not laborious. The secretary, you know, is chosen by the Senate. Otis, the present inc.u.mbent, will probably decline. If you should think that Lee would desire it, and the thing should appear to you proper, it should be suggested to your senators. Of the legislative subjects mentioned in one of your letters, I hope to find time to say a word on Sunday (7th inst.). G.o.d bless you.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, December 4, 1802.
So you arrived on the 24th, after a pa.s.sage of ten days; you and the Charleston packet on the same day. All this I learned last night; not from you. Vanderlyn and I drank a bottle of Champagne on the occasion.
Though this relieves me from the great anxiety under which I laboured, still there are many details of your pa.s.sage, your arrival, &c., on which nothing but your letter can satisfy me. For some unknown reason, the mail is now eighteen days on the road.
Vanderlyn has finished your picture in the most beautiful style imaginable. When it was done, he exclaimed with enthusiasm, "There is the best work I have ever done in America."
Your letter must be addressed to Washington. The dear little boy, I hope, made a good sailor. Adieu.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, December 16, 1802.
Your letter of the 26th November came yesterday, that of the 25th the day preceding. You see, therefore, that twenty-one days had elapsed from the time of your arrival to the receipt of your first letter.
This is not by way of reproach, for it is an unpleasant truth that, for the last six or eight weeks, the Charleston mail has been twenty days on the way. Had it not been for the intelligence by water of your safe arrival, we should have concluded that you and Kate [1] were now dancing with Amphitrite. How jealous her majesty would have been at the presence of two such rivals.
The day after you left us, though the weather was mild, not even a frost, the leaves of the trees about the house began to fall, and in three days they were as bare as in midwinter, though you may recollect that you left them in perfect verdure. This, I am sure, was sympathy and regret. I shall respect these trees for their sensibility. It was in harmony with my feelings; for, truly, all was dreary.
Yes, I enter into all your little vexations; but while I write, and long before, they probably have pa.s.sed away, and are succeeded by new ones. Kate will help you to laugh them off. Kiss her for me. Not a word, not a line from your husband since the 30th of October. We ought, nay, we must, every day add something to our experience, and usually at some cost.
I expect to leave this in about a week. Henceforth, therefore, address me at Washington. On my arrival there we will begin to talk of our spring and summer plans. You did well, very well to give up the Columbia project. I really wish you had given the pair of horses in your own name. In all such cases, that which is most grateful to you will be so to me. b.u.t.ter shall be sent. The card plate must be altered.
_Maybe_ I may write you from Philadelphia; not again from this city, unless I should receive from you something very pretty. Vanderlyn projects to visit Charleston, but I am sure he will not. He is run down with applications for portraits, all of which, without discrimination, he refuses. He is greatly occupied in finishing his Niagara views, which, --indeed, will do him honour. They will be four in number, and he thinks of having them engraved in France. You hear the roaring of the cataract when you look at them. Kiss the dear little boy. Adieu, ma belle.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, January 26, 1803.
Your last letter, and the only one received within a month, is dated the 14th inst., and written, I suppose, at your plantation. It gives me the satisfaction of knowing that you and your boy are well, and nothing more. How long you are to remain there, where next to go, and every thing leading to a knowledge of your occupations and intentions, is omitted. One half of the letter is a complaint of my silence, and the other half (nearly) an apology for yours, You know (or am I now to tell you) that you and your concerns are the highest, the dearest interest I have in this world; one in comparison with which all others are insignificant.
Recollect, my dear Theodosia, that in five weeks Congress will adjourn (3d March); that I shall then go in some direction, but in what is yet unsettled; that my movements will depend essentially on yours. Tell me, therefore, where you are to pa.s.s the summer, when you are to leave Charleston, and all the details. If these matters should not yet be settled, let it be forthwith done. If you are not to go northward, it is not probable that I shall see you in some time, for I have thoughts of going on a tour through the western country, which, if executed, will consume the whole summer. I offer you and your family Richmond Hill for the season, and will meet you there in May or June, or when you please. Perhaps would come to make the voyage with you, by land or water. Sullivan"s Island will not, I hope, be thought of. How is it that I have not a line from _Mari_, in answer to several letters which I wrote him from New-York?
I entreat you to answer this letter distinctly, and in all its parts; for there will not be time for another letter and reply before I shall be off. My love to Kate. You do not say whether she grows handsome or ugly, nor is it any matter which while on the plantation.
I can"t conceive how you all stow yourselves in that little wreck of a mansion. Please to write over, in some way, the erased part of your letter. You must be very dest.i.tute of wit and contrivance. No essence in Washington. I still prefer musk, but not to be had. One would think you had suffered some injury from perfumes. Your message and commission to Mrs. Madison will be delivered. My mode of life, establishment, &c., are the same as last year, except that I bought a chariot, having some hope of seeing you and your husband here. As I shall not write again until I hear where you are, I may as well say now all that occurs to me.
On my way through Philadelphia I rode out to Lansdown, to see our beautiful little K. and Mrs. L. They appear to love you with all their hearts. K. especially talked of you with an interest which could not be affected. The ladies find fault with her dress, her person, her manners; in short, with every thing appertaining to her. Mrs. L. has also her full share of the eulogium. K. is _toujours belle_. At Wilmington I did not see friend S. She had gone to church. G.o.d bless thee.
A. BURR
TO DR. JOHN COATS.
Washington, February 23, 1803.
It is from me, my dear sir, that apologies are due; but you have kindly antic.i.p.ated all I could make. I thank you for this instance of your goodness; for your friendly recollection; above all, for the justice you do to my heart and feelings. Your last letter has been received. It is without date, and came by the mail of yesterday. You see that I am resolved not to furnish a new occasion for apologies by further negligence. Whether, after the adjournment, I shall go North or South, is yet undetermined. If northward, I propose to take the route which you had the goodness to describe, and to pa.s.s at least some hours with you. I shall insist on a dish of lillipee, in order to give a more dramatic effect to the review which we will take of past scenes.
Dearborn, now minister of war, was our fellow-traveller through the wilderness. If you will designate more particularly the papers you wish to recover, I will with pleasure make search for them. Accept, I pray you, the a.s.surance of my undiminished regard and esteem.
A. BURR.
FROM THEODOSIA.
Clifton, March 17, 1802.
Ever since the date of my last letter, for it was not forwarded till some days after, I have been quite ill; till within these two or three days totally unable to write. The whole family, as well as myself, had begun to think pretty seriously of my last journey; but, fortunately, I have had the pleasure of keeping them up a few nights, and drawing forth all their sensibility, without giving them the trouble of burying, mourning, &c.
I was one night so ill as to have lost my senses in a great measure; about daylight, as a last resource, they began plying me with old wine, and blisters to my feet. But, on recovering a little, I kicked off the blisters, and declared I would be dressed; be carried in the open air, and have free use of cold water. I was indulged. I was carried below, where I drank plentifully of cold water, and I had my face, neck, and arms bathed with it, and it a.s.sisted most astonishingly in recovering me. The day before yesterday I was put on a bed in a boat and brought here. The change of air and scene have a.s.sisted me wonderfully. I am again getting well. Indeed, the rapidity with which I gain strength surprises the whole family. The secret is, that my const.i.tution is good. I exert myself to the utmost, feeling none of that pride, so common to my s.e.x, of being weak and ill.
Delicacy and debility are sometimes fascinating when affected by a coquette, adorned with the freshness of health; but a pale, thin face; sunken, instead of languishing eyes; and a form, evidently tottering, not gracefully bending, never, I suspect, made, far less could they retain a conquest, or even please a friend. I therefore encourage spirits, try to appear well, and am rewarded. In a few days I shall be on the high road to health. Mari is well, and the boy charming. Adieu.
THEODOSIA.
TO THEODOSIA.
Philadelphia, June 3, 1903.
I have only to announce my safe arrival yesterday noon. Went forthwith to see the B."s. They were all out of town. Will be back to-day.
Send me the number of volumes of the American Encyclopedia. I wish to complete the set, and must, therefore, know the deficiencies. I have seen none of your acquaintance save the Biddles. To-morrow (if I should in the mean time receive a letter from you) I shall add something. You are the two most spiritless young persons I ever knew.
Pray muster up energy enough to do something more than lounge on sofas. Go on Sunday to Ludlow"s. Ask some of your friends often to dine with you. There is a little boy right opposite my window who has something of the way of "mammy"s treasure." Don"t be jealous; not half so handsome. I have had him over to my room, and have already taught him to _bang_. Adieu.
A. BURR.