Memoirs of Aaron Burr Part 35

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, May, 1785.

I am vexed that I did not inquire your route more particularly. I cannot trace you in imagination, nor find your spirit when at rest; nor dare I count the hours to your return. They are still too numerous, and add to my impatience. I expect my reward in the health you acquire. If it should prove otherwise, how I shall hate my acquiescence to your departure. I antic.i.p.ate good or evil as my spirits rise or fall; but I know no medium; my mind cannot reach that stage of indifference. I fancy all my actions directed by you; this tends to spur my industry, and give calm to my leisure.

The family as you left it. Bartow never quits the office, and is perfectly obliging. Your dear little daughter seeks you twenty times a day; calls you to your meals, and will not suffer your chair to be filled by any of the family.

Judge Hobart called here yesterday; says you are absent for a month. I do not admit that among possibilities, and therefore am not alarmed. I feel obliged to Mr. Wickham for his delay, though I dare not give scope to my pen; my heart dictates too freely. O, my Aaron! how many tender, grateful things rush to my mind in this moment; how much fort.i.tude do I summon to suppress them! You will do justice to their silence; to the inexpressible affection of your _plus tendre amie_.

Bartow has been to the surveyor-general; he cannot inform him the boundaries of those lots for J. W. There is no map of them but one in Albany.

THEODOSIA.

TO MRS. BURR.

Chester, May, 1785.

I joined the commissioners and parties in the woods, near this place, on Wednesday noon; found the weather severe, and roads bad. Have, since my arrival, been following the commissioners in their surveys.

Nothing transpires from which we can conjecture their intentions.

This morning came your kind, your affectionate, your truly welcome letter of Monday evening. Where did it loiter so long? Nothing in my absence is so flattering to me as your health and cheerfullness. I then contemplate nothing so eagerly as my return; amuse myself with ideas of my own happiness, and dwell on the sweet domestic joys which I fancy prepared for me.

Nothing is so unfriendly to every species of enjoyment as melancholy.

Gloom, however dressed, however caused, is incompatible with friendship. They cannot have place in the mind at the same time. It is the secret, the malignant foe of sentiment and love. Adieu.

A. BURR.

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, May, 1785.

Your dear letter was handed me this day, at a moment which, if possible, increased its value. I have a little fever hanging about me, which tends to depress my spirits for the time. Your moralizing changed my dulness to a pleasing melancholy. I am mortified at the interruption it met, and impatient to renew the theme; to renew it in a more pleasing manner than even your letters afford. When my health is ill, I find your absence insupportable; every evil haunts me. It is the last that must take place till term; _that_ I must submit to. I am pleased with your account of your health and spirits; they are both as I wish.

When you write again, speak of your return. The uncertainty makes it more irksome. The company you speak of will be as welcome as any at this juncture; but my health and mind seem to require the calm recreation of friendly sympathy; the heart that has long been united to mine by the tenderest esteem and confidence, who has made every little anxiety its own, to whom I can speak without reserve every imaginary wo, and whose kind consolation shall appease those miseries nature has imposed. But whatever present inconveniences may arise, I submit to them with perfect resignation, rather than, even in idea, to expect the one mentioned by you when last at home. My mind is impressed with a perfect dread of all of that kind. We never can have one to give us so little trouble as E. W., and yet we found it great.

We must avoid all such invitations, for the sacrifice on my part is too great.

Friday morning.

I have pa.s.sed a most tedious night. I went to bed much indisposed. M.

absent; mamma also. Ten thousand anxieties surrounded me till three, when I fell asleep; waked at six, much refreshed, and in better health than I could possibly have expected. I flatter myself your task will end sooner than you expected. Mr. Marvin calls for my letter this morning, which will be delivered with a pound of green tea I have purchased for your landlady at two dollars. He has called. I am hurried. Ten thousand loves

_Toujours la votre_.

THEODOSIA.

TO MRS. BURR.

Jane's in the Mountains, May, 1785.

I wrote my dear Theodosia a long letter of business and nonsense last evening from Chester. I am now about twelve miles nearer to you, and shall sleep to-night within thirty-five miles (only six hours' ride), and shall to-morrow return surlily to Chester.

Our cavalcade is most fortunately composed. Some who abhor fatigue, others who admire good fare, by which by which combination we ride slow and live well. We have halted here half an hour to lounge and take a luncheon. Of the last, I partook reasonably. The time which others devote to the former, I devote (of right) to you, and thus lounge with peculiar glee.

By return of Mr. Smith (who is obliging enough to deliver this), I expect much longer letters from our lazy flock. By the next opportunity I determine not to write you, but some others who deserve more attention than I fear they will think I mean to give them.

The girls must give me a history of their time, from rising to night.

The boys any thing which interests them, and which, of course, will interest me. Are there any, or very pressing calls at the office? The word is given to mount. I shall have time to seal this and overtake them. Kiss for me those who love me.

A. BURR.

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, April, 1785.

Mrs. Wickham just called to tell me of an opportunity to Chester. How joyfully I embrace it. I had a most insupportable impatience to communicate to you my grat.i.tude and thanks for your last visit. It was a cordial to my health and spirits; a balm to my soul. My mind is flushed with pleasing hopes. Ten thousand tender thoughts rush to my pen; but the bearer may prove faithless. I will suppress them to a happier moment, and antic.i.p.ate the dear indulgence.

The family as you left it. Thy Theodosia's health and spirits increase daily. Bartow's industry and utility are striking to the family and strangers. Johnstone returned yesterday. Your letter was as eagerly read as though I had not seen you. Write when you have leisure; if it does not reach me immediately, it will serve to divert some tedious moment in a future absence; even when you are at home, engrossed by business, I frequently find a singular pleasure in perusing those testimonies of affection.

I find I am continually speaking of myself. I can only account for it from my Aaron having persuaded me 'tis his favourite subject, and the extreme desire I have to please him induces me to pursue it. I take no walks but up one stairs and down the other. The situation of my house will not admit of my seeing many visitors. I hope some arrangement will be accomplished by the next week.

A packet from Sill. He writes like a happy man--not the happy man of a day, or I am much deceived in him. She is certainly to be ranked among the fortunate. I wish she may be sensible of her lot.

I have fixed the time of seeing you. Till Sat.u.r.day I will hope the best. I cannot extend my calculations beyond it; four days of your absence is an age to come. My compliments to your chum, and who else you please. _Pense avec tendresse de la votre_.

THEODOSIA.

TO MRS. BURR.

Chester, May 12, 1785.

Nothing could be more welcome than your affectionate letters by Mr.

Wickham. They met me on Tuesday evening, on our return from a tour through the mountains. I was for some hours transported home, to partake of that domestic tranquillity which you so feelingly paint.

Continue to write if opportunity presents. They will cheer me in these rustic regions. If not, they will not be lost.

This being a rainy day, we have kept within doors. Tomorrow, if fair, we resume the business of climbing mountains, which will probably be our employment till about the middle of next week. After which a week more (at most) will finish the controversy.