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"General Hamilton says he cannot imagine to what Doctor Cooper may have alluded, unless it were to a conversation at Mr. Taylor's, in Albany, last winter (at which he and General Hamilton were present). General Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly the particulars of that conversation, so as to undertake to repeat them without running the risk of varying, or omitting what might be deemed important circumstances. The expressions are entirely forgotten, and the specific ideas imperfectly remembered; but, to the best of his recollection, it consisted of comments on the political principles and views of Colonel Burr, and the results that might be expected from them in the event of his election as governor, without reference to any particular instance of past conduct or to private character."
"After the delivery of the letter of the 22d, as above mentioned, in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he desired Mr. Pendleton to give him, in writing, the substance of what he had proposed on the part of General Hamilton, which Mr. Pendleton did, in the following words." [See No. IX] [After No. XII., dated June 27th, is the following:—]
"With this letter a message was received, such as was to be expected, containing an invitation which was accepted, and Mr. Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness he should hear from him the next day as to further particulars.
"This letter was delivered to General Hamilton on the same evening, and a very short conversation ensued between him and Mr. Pendleton, who was to call on him early the next morning for a further conference. When he did so, General Hamilton said he had not understood whether the message and answer was definitively concluded, or whether another meeting was to take place for that purpose between Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Van Ness. Under the latter impression, and as the last letter contained matter that naturally led to animadversion, he gave Mr. Pendleton a paper of remarks in his own handwriting, to be communicated to Mr. Van Ness, if the state of the affair rendered it proper.
"In an interview with Mr. Van Ness on the same day, after explaining the causes which had induced General Hamilton to suppose that the state of the affair did not render it improper, Mr. Pendleton offered this paper to Mr. Van Ness, but he declined receiving it, alleging that he considered the correspondence as closed by the acceptance of the message that he had delivered.
"Mr. Pendleton then informed Mr. Van Ness of the inducements mentioned by General Hamilton in the paper for at least postponing the meeting until the close of the circuit; and, as this was uncertain, Mr. Pendleton was to let him know when it would be convenient."
Remarks on the letter of June 27, 1804, which Mr. Van Ness declined to receive.
"Whether the observations on this letter are designed merely to justify the result which is indicated in the close of the letter, or may be intended to give an opening for rendering any thing explicit which may have been deemed vague heretofore, can only be judged of by the sequel. At any rate, it appears to me necessary not to be misunderstood. Mr. Pendleton is therefore authorized to say, that in the course of the present discussion, written or verbal, there has been no intention to evade, defy, or insult, but a sincere disposition to avoid extremities, if it could be done with propriety. With this view General Hamilton has been ready to enter into a frank and free explanation on any and every object of a specific nature; but not to answer a general and abstract inquiry, embracing a period too long for any accurate recollection, and exposing him to unpleasant criticisms from, or unpleasant discussions with, any and every person who may have understood him in an unfavourable sense. This (admitting that he could answer in a manner the most satisfactory to Colonel Burr) he should deem inadmissible in principle and precedent, and humiliating in practice. To this, therefore, he can never submit. Frequent allusion has been made to slanders said to be in circulation. Whether they are openly or in whispers, they have a form and shape, and might be specified."
"If the alternative alluded to in the close of the letter is definitively tendered, it must be accepted; the time, place, and manner to be afterward regulated. I should not think it right, in the midst of a circuit court, to withdraw my services from those who may have confided important interests to me, and expose them to the embarrassment of seeking other counsel, who may not have time to be sufficiently instructed in their causes. I shall also want a little time to make some arrangements respecting my own affairs."
"On Friday, the 6th of July, the circuit being closed, Mr. Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness that General Hamilton would be ready at any time after the Sunday following. On Monday the particulars were arranged. On Wednesday the parties met at Weehawk, on the Jersey shore, at seven o'clock A.M. The particulars of what then took place appear in the statement, as agreed upon and corrected by the seconds of the parties." [See No. XIII.]
DOCTOR DAVID HOSACK TO WILLIAM COLEMAN.
August 17, 1804.
DEAR SIR,
To comply with your request is a painful task; but I will repress my feelings while I endeavour to furnish you with an enumeration of such particulars relative to the melancholy end of our beloved friend Hamilton as dwell most forcibly on my recollection.
When called to him upon his receiving the fatal wound, I found him half sitting on the ground, supported in the arms of Mr. Pendleton. His countenance of death I shall never forget. He had at that instant just strength to say, "This is a mortal wound, doctor;" when he sunk away, and became to all appearance lifeless. I immediately stripped up his clothes, and soon, alas! ascertained that the direction of the ball must have been through some vital part. [2]
His pulses were not to be felt, his respiration was entirely suspended, and, upon laying my hand on his heart and perceiving no motion there, I considered him as irrecoverably gone. I, however, observed to Mr. Pendleton, that the only chance for his reviving was immediately to get him upon the water. We therefore lifted him up, and carried him out of the wood to the margin of the bank, where the bargemen aided us in conveying him into the boat, which immediately put off. During all this time I could not discover the least symptom of returning life. I now rubbed his face, lips, and temples with spirits of hartshorn, applied it to his neck and breast, and to the wrists and palms of his hands, and endeavoured to pour some into his mouth. When we had got, as I should judge, about fifty yards from the shore, some imperfect efforts to breathe were for the first time manifest; in a few minutes he sighed, and became sensible to the impression of the hartshorn or the fresh air of the water. He breathed; his eyes, hardly opened, wandered, without fixing upon any object; to our great joy, he at length spoke. "My vision is indistinct," were his first words. His pulse became more perceptible, his respiration more regular, his sight returned. I then examined the wound to know if there was any dangerous discharge of blood; upon slightly pressing his side it gave him pain, on which I desisted. Soon after recovering his sight, he happened to cast his eye upon the case of pistols, and observing the one that he had had in his hand lying on the outside, he said, "Take care of that pistol; it is undischarged, and still cocked; it may go off and do harm. Pendleton knows" (attempting to turn his head towards him) "that I did not intend to fire at him." "Yes," said Mr. Pendleton, understanding his wish, "I have already made Dr. Hosack acquainted with your determination as to that." He then closed his eyes and remained calm, without any disposition to speak; nor did he say much afterward, except in reply to my questions. He asked me once or twice how I found his pulse; and he informed me that his lower extremities had lost all feeling, manifesting to me that he entertained no hopes that he should long survive. I changed the posture of his limbs, but to no purpose; they had entirely lost their sensibility. Perceiving that we approached the shore, he said, "Let Mrs. Hamilton be immediately sent for; let the event be gradually broken to her, but give her hopes." Looking up we saw his friend, Mr. Bayard, standing on the wharf in great agitation. He had been told by his servant that General Hamilton, Mr. Pendleton, and myself had crossed the river in a boat together, and too well he conjectured the fatal errand, and foreboded the dreadful result. Perceiving, as we came nearer, that Mr. Pendleton and myself only sat up in the stern sheets, he clasped his hands together in the most violent apprehension; but when I called to him to have a cot prepared, and he at the same moment saw his poor friend lying in the bottom of the boat, he threw up his eyes and burst into a flood of tears and lamentation. Hamilton alone appeared tranquil and composed. We then conveyed him as tenderly as possible up to the house. The distresses of this amiable family were such that, till the first shock was abated, they were scarcely able to summon fortitude enough to yield sufficient assistance to their dying friend.
Upon our reaching the house he became more languid, occasioned probably by the agitation of his removal from the boat. I gave him a little weak wine and water. When he recovered his feelings, he complained of pain in his back; we immediately undressed him, laid him in bed, and darkened the room. I then gave him a large anodyne, which I frequently repeated. During the first day he took upward of an ounce of laudanum; and tepid anodyne fomentations were also applied to those parts nearest the seat of his pain. Yet were his sufferings during the whole of the day almost intolerable. [3]
I had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery; and Dr. Post, whom I requested might be sent for immediately on our reaching Mr. Bayard's house, united with me in this opinion. General Rey, the French consul, also had the goodness to invite the surgeons of the French frigates in our harbour, as they had had much experience in gunshot wounds, to render their assistance. They immediately came; but, to prevent his being disturbed, I stated to them his situation, described the nature of his wound, and the direction of the ball, with all the symptoms that could enable them to form an opinion as to the event. One of the gentlemen then accompanied me to the bedside. The result was a confirmation of the opinion that had already been expressed by Dr. Post and myself.
During the night he had some imperfect sleep, but the succeeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, attended, however, with a diminution of pain. His mind retained all its usual strength and composure. The great source of his anxiety seemed to be in his sympathy with his half-distracted—wife and children. He spoke to me frequently of them—"My beloved wife and children" were always his expressions. But his fortitude triumphed over his situation, dreadful as it was; once, indeed, at the sight of his children, brought to the bedside together, seven in number, his utterance forsook him; he opened his eyes, gave them one look, and closed them again till they were taken away. As a proof of his extraordinary composure of mind, let me add, that he alone could calm the frantic grief of their mother. "Remember, my Eliza, you are a Christian," were the expressions with which he frequently, with a firm voice, but, in a pathetic and impressive manner, addressed her. His words, and the tone in which they were uttered, will never be effaced from my memory. About two o'clock, as the public well know, he expired—
"Incorrupta fides—nudaque veritas Quando ullum invenient parem? Multis ille quidem flebilis occidit."
Your friend and humble servant,
DAVID HOSACK.
"After his death, a note, which had been written the evening before the interview, was found addressed to the gentleman who accompanied him to the field; thanking him with tenderness for his friendship to him, and informing him where would be found the keys of certain drawers in his desk, in which he had deposited such papers as he had thought proper to leave behind him, together with his last will." Among these papers was the following.
On my expected interview with Colonel Burr, I think it proper to make some remarks explanatory of my conduct, motives, and views.
I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview for the most cogent reasons.
1. My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed to the practice of duelling, and it would ever give me pain to be obliged to shed the blood of a fellow-creature in a private combat forbidden by the laws.
2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost importance to them in various views.
3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors; who, in case of accident to me, by the forced sale of my property, may be in some degree sufferers. I did not think myself at liberty, as a man of probity, lightly to expose them to this hazard.
4. I am conscious of no ill will to Colonel Burr distinct from political opposition, which, as I trust, has proceeded from pure and upright motives.
Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain nothing by the issue of the interview.
But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid it. There were intrinsic difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrassments from the manner of proceeding on the part of Colonel Burr.
Intrinsic, because it is not to be denied that my animadversions on the political principles, character, and views of Colonel Burr have been extremely severe; and, on different occasions, I, in common with many others, have made very unfavourable criticisms on particular instances of the private conduct of this gentleman.
In proportion as these impressions were entertained with sincerity, and uttered with motives and for purposes which might appear to me commendable, would be the difficulty (until they could be removed by evidence of their being erroneous) of explanation or apology. The disavowal required of me by Colonel Burr, in a general and definite form, was out of my power, if it had really been proper for me to submit to be so questioned; but I was sincerely of the opinion that this could not be; and in this opinion I was confirmed by that of a very moderate and judicious friend whom I consulted. Besides that, Colonel Burr appeared to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessarily peremptory and menacing, and, in the second, positively offensive. Yet I wished, as far as might be practicable, to leave a door open for accommodation. This, I think, will be inferred from the written communications made by me and by my direction, and would be confirmed by the conversations between Mr. Van Ness and myself which arose out of the subject.
I am not sure whether, under all the circumstances, I did not go further in the attempt to accommodate than a punctilious delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the motives I have stated will excuse me.
It is not my design, by what I have said, to affix any odium on the character of Colonel Burr in this case. He doubtless has heard of animadversions of mine which bore very hard upon him; and it is probable that, as usual, they were accompanied with some falsehoods. He may have supposed himself under a necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience.
I trust, at the same time, that the world will do me the justice to believe that I have not censured him on light grounds nor from unworthy inducements. I certainly have had strong reasons for what I have said, though it is possible that in some particulars I have been influenced by misconstruction or misinformation. It is also my ardent wish that I may have been more mistaken than I think I have been, and that he, by his future conduct, may show himself worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing to the country.
As well, because it is possible that I may have injured Colonel Burr, however convinced myself that my opinions and declarations have been well founded, as from my general principles and temper in relation to similar affairs, I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even of reserving my second fire, and thus giving a double opportunity to Colonel Burr to pause and to reflect.
It is not, however, my intention to enter into any explanations on the ground—apology from principle, I hope, rather than pride, is out of the question.
To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, may think that I ought on no account to add to the number of bad examples, I answer, that my relative situation, as well in public as private, enforcing all the considerations which men of the world denominate honour, imposed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity not to decline the call. The ability to be in future useful, whether in resisting mischief or effecting good, in those crises of our public affairs which seem likely to happen, would probably be inseparable from a conformity with prejudice in this particular.
A.H.
The impression which the death of General Hamilton made on every class of people in the city of New-York is best described by simply remarking, that all party distinction was lost in the general sentiment of respect expressed for the illustrious dead. On Wednesday morning, the 11th of July, 1804, the parties met; on Thursday, the 12th, General Hamilton died; and on Saturday, the 14th, he was interred, with military honours, "the Society of the Cincinnati being charged with the direction of the funeral ceremonies of its president-general." About noon, the different bodies forming the procession took their respective places. The body was conducted from the house of his brother-in-law, John B. Church, Esq., to Trinity Church, where an appropriate oration was delivered by the Hon. Gouverneur Morris.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, July 10, 1804.
Having lately written my will, and given my private letters and papers in charge to you, I have no other direction to give you on the subject but to request you to burn all such as, if by accident made public, would injure any person. This is more particularly applicable to the letters of my female correspondents. All my letters, and copies of letters, of which I have retained copies, are in the six blue boxes. If your husband or any one else (no one, however, could do it so well as he) should think it worth while to write a sketch of my life, some materials will be found among these letters.
Tell my dear Natalie that I have not left her any thing, for the very good reason that I had nothing to leave to any one. My estate will just about pay my debts and no more—I mean, if I should die this year. If I live a few years, it is probable things may be better. Give Natalie one of the pictures of me. There are three in this house; that of Stewart, and two by Vanderlyn. Give her any other little tokens she may desire. One of those pictures, also, I pray you to give to Doctor Eustis. To Bartow something—what you please.
I pray you and your husband to convey to Peggy the small lot, not numbered, which is the fourth article mentioned in my list of property. It is worth about two hundred and fifty dollars. Give her also fifty dollars in cash as a reward for her fidelity. Dispose of Nancy as you please. She is honest, robust, and good-tempered. Peter is the most intelligent and best-disposed black I have ever known. (I mean the black boy I bought last fall from Mr. Turnbull.) I advise you, by all means, to keep him as the valet of your son. Persuade Peggy to live with you if you can.
I have desired that my wearing apparel be given to Frederic. Give him also a sword or pair of pistols.
Burn immediately a small bundle, tied with a red string, which you will find in the little flat writing-case—that which we used with the curricle. The bundle is marked "Put."
The letters of Clara (the greater part of them) are tied up in a white handkerchief, which you will find in the blue box No. 5. You may hand them to Mari, if you please. My letters to Clara are in the same bundle. You, and by-and-by Aaron Burr Alston, may laugh at gamp when you look over this nonsense.
Many of the letters of Clara will be found among my ordinary letters, filed and marked, sometimes "Clara", sometimes "L."
I am indebted to you, my dearest Theodosia, for a very great portion of the happiness which I have enjoyed in this life. You have completely satisfied all that my heart and affections had hoped or even wished. With a little more perseverance, determination, and industry, you will obtain all that my ambition or vanity had fondly imagined. Let your son have occasion to be proud that he had a mother. Adieu. Adieu.
A. BURR.
I have directed that the flat writing-case and the blue box No. 5, both in the library, be opened only by you. There are six of these blue boxes, which contain my letters and copies of letters, except those two clumsy quarto volumes, in which letter-press copies are pasted. They are somewhere in the library. The keys of the other five boxes are in No. 5.
It just now occurs to me to give poor dear Frederic my watch. I have already directed my executors here to give him my wearing apparel. When you come hither you must send for Frederic, and open your whole heart to him. He loves me almost as much as Theodosia does; and he does love you to adoration.
I have just now found four packets of letters between Clara and Mentor besides those in the handkerchief. I have thrown them loose into box No. 5. What a medley you will find in that box!
The seal of the late General Washington, which you will find in the blue box No. 5, was given to me by Mr. and Mrs. Law. You may keep it for your son, or give it to whom you please.
Assure Mrs. Law of my latest recollection. Adieu. Adieu.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
New-York, July 10, 1804.
MY DEAR SIR,
You will find enclosed a statement of my affairs. Swartwout and Van Ness are joint executors with you and Theodosia. It was indispensable that there should be an executor on the spot. I have directed them to sell immediately my horses, and to sell nothing else until your pleasure shall be known. I pray that Theodosia may be consulted and gratified in this particular.
Explanations of every concern of my property is given in two sheets of paper which accompany my will. The enclosed is an abstract.
It would have been a great satisfaction to me to have had your assurance that you would assume my debts, and take and dispose of the property at discretion. It may be done in a way which you would find a convenience. My creditors would take your assumption at such time as you might judge convenient. The property will, undoubtedly, produce more than the amount of my debts. What you may not incline to keep may be forthwith turned into cash.
The library, maps, pictures, and wine are articles which you will need, and which you cannot procure without great trouble and more money. I think, too, you would do well to retain Richmond Hill, as a more convenient residence than Montalto, particularly as no expense will be necessary for buildings or improvements.
My private letters I have directed to be put in the hands of Theodosia, that she may select from them her own, those of her mother, and some others. Among them and my copies you will find much of trifling, something of amusement, and a little of interest.
Get from Mr. Taylor (the younger), of Columbia or Camden, my letters to his brother-in-law, the late J.E. Hunt, who was one of your chancellors.
Messrs. R. Bunner, William Duer, John Duer, and J.W. Smith, of this city, and John Van Ness Yates, of Albany, all lawyers and young men of talents, have manifested great and disinterested zeal in my favour on some recent occasions. [4]
I pray you to take some notice of them, and give to each of them, and to William T. Broome, now in Paris, some small token of remembrance of me. William T. Broome, with great defects of temper, unites very considerable literary talents and acquirements. A little attention would attach them all to you.
My very worthy friend, Charles Biddle, of Philadelphia, has six or seven sons—three of them grown up. With different characters and various degrees of intelligence, they will all be men of eminence and of influence. Call to see the father when you pass through Philadelphia, and receive the sons kindly.
I have taught my friends in every quarter to look to you as my representative. There are many of them, your discernment will distinguish which, on whose loyalty and firmness you may rely through all changes.
I have called out General Hamilton, and we meet tomorrow morning. Van Ness will give you the particulars. The preceding has been written in contemplation of this event. If it should be my lot to fall, * * * * * * * * yet I shall live in you and your son. I commit to you all that is most dear to me—my reputation and my daughter. Your talents and your attachment will be the guardian of the one—your kindness and your generosity of the other. Let me entreat you to stimulate and aid Theodosia in the cultivation of her mind. It is indispensable to her happiness and essential to yours. It is also of the utmost importance to your son. She would presently acquire a critical knowledge of Latin, English, and all branches of natural philosophy. All this would be poured into your son. If you should differ with me as to the importance of this measure, suffer me to ask it of you as a last favour. She will richly compensate your trouble.
Most affectionately adieu,
A. BURR.
The elder Prevost, [5] Augustine James Frederic Prevost, is a most amiable and honourable man. Under the garb of coarse rusticity you will find, if you know him, refinement, wit, a delicate sense of propriety, the most inflexible intrepidity, incorruptible integrity, and disinterestedness. I wish you could know him; but it would be difficult, by reason of his diffidence and great reluctance to mingle with the world. It has been a source of extreme regret and mortification to me that he should be lost to society and to his friends. The case seems almost remediless, for, alas! he is married!
A. BURR.
If you can pardon and indulge a folly, I would suggest that Madame Sansay, too well known under the name of Leonora, has claims on my recollection. She is now with her husband at St. Jago of Cuba.
A. BURR.
Footnotes:
1. Colonel Burr then resided at Richmond Hill.
2. For the satisfaction of some of General Hamilton's friends, I examined his body after death, in presence of Dr. Post and two other gentlemen. I discovered that the ball struck the second or third false rib, and fractured it about in the middle; it then passed through the liver and diaphragm, and, as far as we could ascertain without a minute examination, lodged in the first or second lumbar vertebra. The vertebra in which it was lodged was considerably splintered, so that the spiculae were distinctly perceptible to the finger. About a pint of clotted blood was found in the cavity of the belly, which had probably been effused from the divided vessels of the liver.
3. As his habit was delicate, and had been lately rendered more feeble by ill health, particularly by a disorder of the stomach and bowels, I carefully avoided all those remedies which are usually indicated on such occasions.
4. They supported Colonel Burr for the office of governor in opposition to Morgan Lewis.
5. Mrs. Burr's son by her first husband, Colonel Prevost, of the British army.
CHAPTER XVII.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
New-York, July 13, 1804.
GENERAL HAMILTON died yesterday. The malignant federalists or tories, and the imbittered Clintonians, unite in endeavouring to excite public sympathy in his favour and indignation against his antagonist. Thousands of absurd falsehoods are circulated with industry. The most illiberal means are practised in order to produce excitement, and, for the moment, with effect.
I propose leaving town for a few days, and meditate also a journey for some weeks, but whither is not resolved. Perhaps to Statesburgh. You will hear from me again in about eight days.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
July 18, 1804.
The event of which you have been advised has driven me into a sort of exile, and may terminate in an actual and permanent ostracism. Our most unprincipled Jacobins are the loudest in their lamentations for the death of General Hamilton, whom, for many years, they have uniformly represented as the most detestable and unprincipled of men—the motives are obvious. Every sort of persecution is to be exercised against me. A coroner's jury will sit this evening, being the fourth time. The object of this unexampled measure is to obtain an inquest of murder. Upon this a warrant will issue to apprehend me, and, if I should be taken, no bail would probably be allowed. You know enough of the temper and principles of the generality of the officers of our state government to form a judgment of my position.
The statement [1] in the Morning Chronicle was not submitted to my perusal, I being absent at the time of the publication. Several circumstances not very favourable to the deceased are suppressed; I presume, from holy reverence for the dead. I am waiting the report of this jury; when that is known, you shall be advised of my movements. At present I have decided on nothing. Write under cover to Charles Biddle, Philadelphia.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
July 20, 1804.
La G. has, on a recent occasion, manifested a degree of sensibility and attachment which have their influence on gamp. Her conduct is also highly honourable to the independence of her mind, for all her associations and connexions would lead to a different result. An interview is expected this evening, which, if it take place, will terminate in something definitive.
It was, indeed, a pretty ludicrous description which you received. On the other side you may add, real good-temper and cheerfulness; a good education, according to the estimation of the world. I shall journey somewhere within a few days, but whither is not yet decided. My heart will travel southward, and repose on the hills of Santee.
Adieu, my dear child.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Philadelphia, July 29, 1804.
The coroner's jury continued to the 26th (my last New-York date) to sit and adjourn. Upon suspicion that my friends had some knowledge of the subject, derived either from Van Ness or me, warrants have issued to bring them in to testify. Matthew L. Davis was apprehended, and, refusing to answer, was committed to prison, where he now lies; probably Colonel Willett is now also in jail on the same account. Swartwout, Van Ness, and others are secreted. How long this sort of persecution may endure cannot be conjectured.
The ferment, which was with so much industry excited, has subsided, and public opinion begins to take its proper course.
A. BURR.
FROM JOHN SWARTWOUT.
New-York, August 2, 1804.
I was interrupted in my letter yesterday. The jury agreed to their verdict this morning at two o'clock, viz., wilful murder by the hand of A. B. William P. Van Ness and Nathaniel Pendleton accessories before the fact. The only evidence, Bishop Moore. Edward Ferris, James Ferris, and a Mr. Milne dissented, and contemplate a protest against the illegal conduct of the coroner. Their counsel is James Woods. At four o'clock this morning I despatched an express to Van Ness. The printers, you perceive, continue their malevolence through the vilest motives; notwithstanding all this, there is a considerable reaction. The public palate has become satiated. The Nicholsons, the Gelstons, the Mills's, and may other demo's are rapidly travelling back to 1800. Mr. P. called and begged that the Chronicle might still be kept silent. He observed, that he mixed with these people, and found it to be the true policy. Although this is not my opinion, yet we must be governed by the advice of the majority.
The oration (by Gouverneur Morris) has displeased many republicans of the first water. Governor Morgan Lewis speaks of the proceedings openly as disgraceful, illiberal, and ungentlemanly. In short, a little more noise on their side, and a little further magnanimity on ours, is all that is necessary. In all this bustle, judicious men see nothing but the workings of the meanest passions. The Salem Gazette and the Boston Chronicle seem to take the most correct ground.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Philadelphia, August 3, 1804.
The preceding is a summary of the intelligence by this day's mail. The purport of the inquest is confirmed by a letter from J.B.P. I am further advised that an application has been made to Governor Lewis, of New-York, requiring him to demand me of the governor of this state, with which Lewis will most probably be obliged to comply. I shall, nevertheless, remain here some days (from 8 to 20), that I may the better know the measures of the enemy. Have no anxiety about the issue of this business.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Philadelphia, August 2, 1804.
Your letters of the 8th and 18th of July are received; the latter yesterday. You must not complain or find fault if I omit to answer, or even to write. Don't let me have the idea that you are dissatisfied with me a moment. I can't just now endure it. At another time you may play the Juno if you please. Your letters amuse and console me. Continue to write with this reliance, and without the expectation of pay in kind. I owe you no thanks for a letter if you demand prompt payment to the full amount.
All you write of the boy represents him such as I would have him. His refusal of the peaches reminded me of his mother. Just so she has done fifty times, and just so I kissed her; but then I did not give her peaches.
Nothing can be done with Celeste. There is a strange indecision and timidity which I cannot fathom. The thing, however, is abandoned; and, for a few months, I believe, all such things.
I shall be here for some days. How many cannot now be resolved. I am very well, and not without occupation or amusement. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as to hear that your time, or any part of it, is usefully employed.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Philadelphia, August 3, 1804.
You will have learned, through Mr. Alston, of certain measures pursuing against me in New-York. I absent myself from home merely to give a little time for passions to subside, not from any apprehension of the final effects of proceedings in courts of law. They can, by no possibility, eventually affect my person. You will find the papers filled with all manner of nonsense and lies. Among other things, accounts of attempts to assassinate me. These, I assure you, are mere fables. Those who wish me dead prefer to keep at a very respectful distance. No such attempt has been made nor will be made. I walk and ride about here as usual.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Philadelphia, August 11, 1804.
Your letter of the 25th July finds me in a moment of great occupation, being on the point of embarking for St. Simons. Write to me on receipt of this, and enclose to the postmaster at Darien, Georgia. The letter to me to be addressed to A. B., at Hampton, St. Simons; and pray write over again all you have written since the 25th, for the letters now on the way will not be received for some time. I shall lay a plan for meeting you somewhere, but whether I may have it in my power to visit the high hills of Santee is doubtful; I fear improbable. They say there is no going through the flat country at this season without hazard of life. Consult your husband about this, and write me as above directed. You shall hear from me the moment of my arrival anywhere; that is, I shall write, and you may read as soon as you can get the letter.
If any male friend of yours should be dying of ennui, recommend to him to engage in a duel and a courtship at the same time—prob. est.
Celeste seems more pliant. I do believe that eight days would have produced some grave event; but, alas! those eight days, and perhaps eight days more, are to be passed on the ocean.
My love to Natalie; to her girl and your boy. I have received a very charming letter from her, which shall be noticed when I get the other side of you. Adieu.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Philadelphia, August 11, 1804.
Your letters of the 21st and 25th July are just now received, and I have barely time to read them and transmit your orders to New-York about Montalto.
My plan is to visit the Floridas for five or six weeks. I have desired Theodosia to consult you whether there be any healthy point within a hundred miles or so of St. Simons at which we might meet. Might I safely travel through your low country at this season?
Theodosia fat and the boy pale are bad omens. For God's sake, or rather for theirs, your own, and mine, hurry them off to the mountains. I could, perhaps, as easily find you there as elsewhere. Warrants have been issued in New-York against all those charged with an agency in the death of General Hamilton, but no requisition or demand has been made by the governor of that state on this or any other, nor does it seem very probable that such demand will be immediately made.
I am negotiating to get an assurance from authority that I shall be bailed, on receipt of which I shall surrender.
The eastern republicans take part against the calumniators in New-York. Swartwout is now here. He thinks the tide has already turned in New-York. You had better open a correspondence with him.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Hampton, St. Simon's, August 28, 1804.
We arrived on Saturday evening, all well. The mail, which arrives but once a week, had just gone. An accidental opportunity enables me to forward this to Savannah.
I am at the house of Major Butler, comfortably settled. A very agreeable family within half a mile. My project is to go next week to Florida, which may take up a fortnight or ten days, and soon after my return to go northward, by Augusta and Columbia, if I can find ways and means to get on; but I have no horse, nor does this country furnish one. In my letter to your husband, written at the moment of leaving Philadelphia, I desired him to name some place (healthy place) at which he could meet me. Enclose to "Mr. R. King, Hampton, St. Simon's."
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
St. Simon's, August 31, 1804.
I am now quite settled. My establishment consists of a housekeeper, cook, and chambermaid, seamstress, and two footmen. There are, besides, two fishermen and four bargemen always at command. The department of laundress is done abroad. The plantation affords plenty of milk, cream, and butter; turkeys, fowls, kids, pigs, geese, and mutton; fish, of course, in abundance. Of figs, peaches, and melons there are yet a few. Oranges and pomegranates just begin to be eatable. The house affords Madeira wine, brandy, and porter. Yesterday my neighbour, Mr. Couper, sent me an assortment of French wines, consisting of Claret, Sauterne, and Champagne, all excellent; and at least a twelve months' supply of orange shrub, which makes a most delicious punch. Madame Couper added sweetmeats and pickles. The plantations of Butler and Couper are divided by a small creek, and the houses within one quarter of a mile of each other; accessible, however, only by water. We have not a fly, moscheto, or bug. I can sit a whole evening, with open windows and lighted candles, without the least annoyance from insects; a circumstance which I have never beheld in any other place. I have not even seen a cockroach.
At Mr. Couper's, besides his family, there are three young ladies, visitors. One of them arrived about three months ago from France, to join a brother who had been shipwrecked on this coast, liked the country so much that he resolved to settle here, and sent for this sister and a younger brother. About the time of their arrival, the elder brother was accidentally drowned; the younger went with views to make an establishment some miles inland, where he now lies dangerously ill. Both circumstances are concealed from the knowledge of Mademoiselle Nicholson. In any event, she will find refuge and protection in the benevolent house of Mr. Couper.
The cotton in this neighbourhood, on the coast southward to the extremity of Florida, and northward as far as we have heard, has been totally destroyed. The crop of Mr. C. was supposed to be worth one hundred thousand dollars, and not an extravagant estimate, for he has eight hundred slaves. He will not get enough to pay half the expenses of the plantation. Yet he laughs about it with good humour and without affectation. Butler suffers about half this loss. Part of his force had been turned to rice. My travelling companion, secretary, and aid-de-camp is Samuel Swartwout, the youngest brother of John, a very amiable young man of twenty or twenty-one.
Now, verily, were it not for the intervention of one hundred miles of low, swampy, pestiferous country, I would insist on your coming to see me, all, all! Little gamp, and Mademoiselle Sumtare, and their appendages; for they are the principals.
I still propose to visit Florida. To set off in three or four days, and to return hither about the 16th of September; beyond this I have at present no plan. It is my wish, God knows how ardently I wish, to return by land, and pass a week with you; but, being without horses, and there being no possibility of hiring or buying, the thing seems scarcely practicable. Two modes only offer themselves—either to embark in the kind of mail stage which goes from Darien through Savannah, Augusta, and Columbia, to Camden, or to take a water passage either to Charleston or Georgetown. Either of these being accomplished, new difficulties will occur in getting from Statesburgh northward. I must be at New-York the first week in November. Consult your husband, and write me of these matters. Enclose to Mr. Roswell King, which I repeat, lest my former letters should not have been received. Our mail has just arrived, but has brought me no letter.
I erred a little in my history of the family of Mademoiselle N. There are still two brothers here. One a man d'une certaine age. Though not wealthy, they are not destitute of property.
Mr. C. has just now gone with his boat for the dashers who live about thirty miles southwest on the main. He has requested me to escort Madame C. on Sunday to his plantation on the south end of this island, where we are to meet him and his party on Monday, and bring them home in our coach. Madame C. is still young, tall, comely, and well bred.
I have been studying all the maps and gazetteers to discover the best access to Statesburgh. Georgetown seems to be the nearest port; but whether there be thence a direct road, I cannot discover. Does our friend Doctor Blythe still reside at Georgetown? If so, I should repose on him for the means of transportation. Desire Mari to write to him to aid me in case I should take that route. If I should go to Charleston, meaning to Sullivan's Island, for Charleston I shall at this season most certainly avoid, I should put myself on General M'Pherson, who, I hear, is now living there with his family; thence up the Cooper river, about four miles above the town, is a ferryhouse and tavern on the north side, and thence by Strawberry, where is the best tavern in the state, is a very direct and beautiful road, and thence, according to the maps, a very straight road to the high hills of Santee. But how to get from that ferryhouse is a question I cannot resolve. All these circumstances are mentioned that I may have your advice, meaning that of your husband. And, after all, it is possible that I may not be able to find a passage either to Charleston or Georgetown, and so be obliged to sail for New-York. Will close this letter, for to-morrow it must go to the postoffice at Darien, which is only about twenty-two miles distant.
September 1.
In one of Mr. Alston's letters he spoke of taking you and A. B. A. to the mountains; and, in a letter which I wrote him from Philadelphia, I proposed to meet you in the mountains. Now, for aught which I as yet know, it will be as easy for me to get to the mountains, or to the Alps, or the Andes, as to Statesburgh, and therefore, as before, I crave counsel.
Do yon recollect the second daughter of Mr. Barclay, of Philadelphia, the sister of Nelly? She has grown up the very image of her sister. I saw her very often while I was last in Philadelphia. She talked perpetually of you, and made me promise that I would tell you so.
Adieu, my dear Theodosia. Remember that I have not received a letter from you since that of the 22d or 25th of July. I forget which was the date. I have no faith in the climate of your high hills, surrounded as they are by noxious swamps. God bless and preserve thee.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
St. Simon's, September 3, 1804.
You see me returned from Gaston's Bluff, now called Hamilton's Bluff, a London merchant, partner of Mr. Couper. We were four in the carriage; the three ladies and myself.
Mr. Morse informs you that this island is forty-five miles long, and that it lies north of the mouth Altamaha, commonly spelled Alatamaha. It is, in fact, twelve and a half miles in length, and lies southeast of that river. Its width is about two and a half miles. There are now residing on the island about twenty-five white families. Frederica, now known only by the name of Old Town, is on the west side of the island, and about midway between its northern and southern extremities. It was first settled by Governor Oglethorpe, and was, about fifty years ago, a very gay place, consisting of perhaps twenty-five or thirty houses. The walls of several of them still remain. Three or four families only now reside here. In the vicinity of the town several ruins were pointed out to me, as having been, formerly, country seats of the governor, and officers of the garrison, and gentlemen of the town. At present, nothing can be more gloomy than what was once called Frederica. The few families now remaining, or rather residing there, for they are all new-comers, have a sickly, melancholy appearance, well assorted with the ruins which surround them. The southern part of this island abounds with fetid swamps, which must render it very unhealthy. On the northern half I have seen no stagnant water.
Mr. Couper, with his escort of ladies, was to have met us this afternoon, but he has sent us word that he is taken ill on the way; that, owing to illness in the family of the ladies who were to have accompanied him, they have been obliged to renounce the visit. We therefore returned as we went. At Frederica and Gaston's Bluff we were convinced that insects can subsist on this island. Moschetoes, flies, and cockroaches abounded.
Thursday, September 6, 1804
Just returned from Darien. And what took you to Darien? To see the plantation of Mr. Butler on an island opposite that town, and to meet a day sooner the letters which I expected from you. In the last object I have been again disappointed, which I ascribe wholly to the irregularity of the mails. It is most mortifying and vexatious to be seven weeks without hearing of you or from you, and now a whole week must elapse before I can expect it.
You are probably ignorant that Darien is a settlement (called a town) on the north bank of the Alatamaha, about eight miles from its mouth. Major Butler's Island in this river is one mile below the town. It must become a fine rice country, for the water is fresh four miles below Major Butler's, and the tide rises from four to five feet, and the flats or swamps are from five to seven miles in width for a considerable distance up the river. The country, of course, presents no scenes for a painter. I visited Little St. Simon's and several other islands; frightened the crocodiles, shot some rice-birds, and caught some trout. Honey of fine flavour is found in great abundance in the woods about the mouth of the river, and, for aught I know, in every part of the country. You perceive that I am constantly discovering new luxuries for my table. Not having been able to kill a crocodile (alligator), I have offered a reward for one, which I mean to eat, dressed in soup, fricassees, and steaks. Oh! how you long to partake of this repast.
Wednesday, September 12, 1804.
On Friday last, hearing that Mr. Couper had returned and was very seriously ill, I took a small canoe with two boys, and went to see him. He lay in a high fever. When about to return in the evening, the wind had risen so that, after an ineffectual attempt, I was obliged to give it up, and remain at Mr. C.'s. In the morning the wind was still higher. It continued to rise, and by noon blew a gale from the north, which, together with the swelling of the water, became alarming. From twelve to three, several of the out-houses had been destroyed; most of the trees about the house were blown down. The house in which we were shook and rocked so much that Mr. C. began to express his apprehensions for our safety. Before three, part of the piazza was carried away; two or three of the windows bursted in. The house was inundated with water, and presently one of the chimneys fell. Mr. C. then commanded a retreat to a storehouse about fifty yards off, and we decamped, men, women, and children. You may imagine, in this scene of confusion and dismay, a good many incidents to amuse one if one had dared to be amused in a moment of much anxiety. The house, however, did not blow down. The storm continued till four, and then very suddenly abated, and in ten minutes it was almost a calm. I seized the moment to return home. Before I had got quite over, the gale rose from the southeast and threatened new destruction. It lasted great part of the night, but did not attain the violence of that from the north; yet it contributed to raise still higher the water, which was the principal instrument of devastation. The flood was about seven feet above the height of an ordinary high tide. This has been sufficient to inundate great part of the coast; to destroy all the rice; to carry off most of the buildings which were on low lands, and to destroy the lives of many blacks. The roads are rendered impassable, and scarcely a boat has been preserved. Thus all intercourse is suspended. The mail-boat, which ought to have passed northward last Saturday, and by which it was intended to forward this letter, has not been heard of. This will go by a man who will attempt to get from Darien to Savannah on foot, being sent express by the manager of Major Butler; but how, or whether it will go on from Savannah, is not imagined.
Major Butler has lost nineteen negroes (drowned), and I fear his whole crop of rice, being about two hundred and sixty acres. Mr. Brailsford, of Charleston, who cultivates in rice an island at the mouth of the Alatamaha, has lost, reports say, seventy-four blacks. The banks and the buildings on the low lands are greatly injured. We have heard nothing from the southward, nor farther than from Darien northward. I greatly fear that this hurricane, so it is here called, has extended to the Waccama.
The illness of Mr. C., which still continues, and the effects of the storm, have defeated all my plans. To get to Florida seems now impracticable; nor do any present means occur of getting from this island in any direction. Young Swartwout, who went ten days ago to Savannah, has not returned, nor is it possible that he should very speedily return. I have not received a letter since my arrival from any person north of Savannah (yes, one from C. Biddle, of 19th August), nor do I expect one for many days to come.
I had taken up another sheet to say something more, I know not what; but the appearance of a fine sheep's-head smoking on the table has attractions not to be resisted. Laissez moi diner, "and then," &c.
Madame j'ais bien diner, and j'ai fait mettre mon writing-desk sur le table a diner. What a scandalous thing to sit here all alone drinking Champagne—and yet—(madame je bois a votre sante et a celle de monsieur votre fils)—and yet, I say, if Champagne be that exhilarating cordial which (je bois a la sante de Madame Sumtare) songs and rumour ascribe to it (a la sante de Mademoiselle Sumtare), can there be ever an occasion in which its application could be more appropriate, or its virtues more (mais buvons a la sante de mon hote et bon ami, Major Butler). By-the-by, you have no idea—how should you have, seeing that you never heard a word about it?—you have no idea, I was going to say, of the zeal and animation, of the intrepidity and frankness with which he avowed and maintained—but I forget that this letter goes to Savannah by a negro, who has to swim half a dozen creeks, in one of which, at least, it is probable he may drown, and that, if he escape drowning, various other accidents may bring it to you through the newspapers, and then how many enemies might my indiscretion create for a man who had the sensibility and the honour to feel and to judge, and the firmness to avow (a la sante de Celeste un bumper toast). La pauvre Celeste. Adieu.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Frederica, St. Simon's, September 15, 1804.
Having very unexpectedly procured a boat, I left my house yesterday afternoon, came hither by land, and proceed in a few minutes for St. Mary's. It is possible that I may extend my tour to St. John's, and even to St. Augustine's; but, if so, it will be very rapid; a mere flight, for I propose to be at home (Hampton, St. Simon's) again in eight days.
On the 12th I sent by a special messenger, who was to go from Darien to Savannah on foot, my journal for the ten or fifteen days preceding, with some account of the hurricane; but a man this day from Darien says that our express can by no possibility reach Savannah; for that every bridge and causeway is destroyed, and the road so filled with fallen trees as to be utterly impassable. I apprehend that the roads on the whole coast as far north, at least, as Cape Hatteras, are in the same condition. If on my return I should receive intelligence confirming those apprehensions, it will compel me to abandon the hope of seeing you until the last of February. On this, as on all other occasions, let me find that you exhibit the firmness which I have been proud to ascribe to you. Let me hear that you are seriously engaged in some useful pursuit. Let me see the progressive improvement of your mind, and it will console me for all the evils of life.
My young friend Swartwout is still absent, and I suppose at Savannah. It is not probable that I shall see him again before my return to New-York.
A Mr. Bartram, of Philadelphia, travelled through Georgia and the Floridas in 1772. His travels are published in one large octavo volume. Procure and read it, and you will better understand what I may write you. I promise myself much gratification in this little trip. If an opportunity should offer for Charleston by water, I shall venture a letter to you. This will be forwarded before my return; if not, it will lay here. I am writing to you before sunrise, and am now summoned to the boat (canoe).
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Hampton, St. Simon's, September 26, 1804.
I returned yesterday from my Florida excursion, about which I wrote you on the 15th inst. The weather prevented me from going farther than the river St. John's, about thirty miles from St. Augustine. I have been making out for you a journal of my tour, but I still entertain a slight hope of seeing you somewhere within a fortnight; if at all, it will be by the 10th of October. Pray keep yourselves in readiness to meet me at Columbia, or still more southward if I should require it.
Not a line from you or your husband since those of the 25th of July. Your letters have either been lost in the hurricane or are now in the mail-boat, which, by some mistake, has brought down the Darien mail and carried it on more southward, so that it will not reach Darien till I am off; yet I entertain a hope of finding letters at Savannah.
A boat has at length been found to take me to Savannah, and thither I go to-morrow, or rather set out, for I shall not reach it till the 30th instant. What course I shall take thence will be determined by what I may hear at that city. You will have a line from me as soon as I arrive there; meaning always that the line will be written, and sent on by the first mail, to get to you as soon as it can.
It is a fact that the Spanish ladies smoke segars. They say that a young lady will take a few puffs and hand it to her favoured lover as a mark of great kindness. This rumour, however, I cannot verify from personal observation, much less have I to boast of any such favour. But we will talk of these things if we should meet; if not, we will write about them.
I was treated with great kindness and respect at St. Mary's, and have everywhere experienced the utmost hospitality. My health has been perfect and uninterrupted. God bless thee.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Savannah, October 1, 1804. Ten o'clock A.M., arrived in a storm (northeast). They had last evening a minor hurricane here, for the special use of this city. It overset some canoes, drowned a few negroes, unroofed some houses, and forced in a few windows. It was the affair of a few minutes, confined to a small space, and did no other mischief that I learn.
My last letter to you was from St. Simon's, about the 27th ult., the day previous to my departure. My voyage hither was full of variety, and not of the most pleasant kind, but no accident to affect health. My first reflection on landing was that I was one hundred miles nearer to you; but my inquiries since my arrival afford no prospect of getting on by land, except by the purchase of horses, to which there is one insuperable objection. The condition of the roads has not yet admitted of travelling northward or westward in a carriage. The mail goes on horseback.
Not a line from any creature north of this place since I left Philadelphia. I hear, however, that the Darien mail, which I passed at Frederica, as mentioned with vexation in my last, had letters for me, doubtless from you.
I was kindly interrupted in these idle regrets by visitors, who continued in succession till dinner was announced. At the lodging-house, where rooms were provided for me, were the governor, a Scotch merchant, and a sea captain. In the evening a band of music came under the window, which I supposed to be a compliment to the governor, till one of the gentlemen who accompanied it came in and said that a number of citizens at the door wished to see the vice-president. Interrupted again.
Tuesday, October 2.
Firstly, your pardon is craved for this torn sheet; it was entire when I commenced, but one half went last night to answer a note, there being no paper in the house, and Peter abroad with my key. You have not, I think, been introduced to Peter, my now valet. It is a black boy purchased last fall. An intelligent, good-tempered, willing fellow, about fifteen; a dirty, careless dog, who, with the best intentions, is always in trouble by sins of omission or commission. The latter through inadvertence, and often through excess of zeal. About three times a day, sometimes oftener, I get angry enough to choke him, but his honesty and good-nature prevail. In my will, made about the 10th of July, I recommend him to you as valet to A.B.A.
I have been this morning scouring the town and the docks in quest of ways and means to get on. There is a packet which will sail for Charleston on Saturday; a great way off to one so impatient as the writer of this. No stage nor a horse to be hired. Finding that the mail does not close till seven this evening, this letter shall be kept open till the last moment, and shall not be closed till I have settled some plan of getting forward, either to Statesburgh or New-York. It will, I think, be Statesburgh. Six hours hence you shall know. Have patience, my dear child, for six hours.
Lest I should forget it, let me now tell you that I am received with the warmest hospitality. Notwithstanding the desolation occasioned by the hurricane (and it is truly distressing), I have invitations which it would require weeks to satisfy. These attentions are almost exclusively from republicans.
Four o'clock P. M.
Io triumphe! A letter; two, three letters. Two from you and one from your husband. Since writing I have had other good luck; viz., two gentlemen have offered me each an excellent horse to go as far as Statesburgh by any route I may please. Another horse, and I am made. Note, my young friend Swartwout is with me, and I cannot well part with him. If another horse shall be found, I shall take the route through Orangeburgh, as being the most direct to Statesburgh. If the land route shall for any reason be found impracticable, I shall take possession of a Charleston packet, and perhaps take it on to Georgetown. By one way or the other you shall see me within ten or twelve days. Tell Mari that his letter being received this afternoon, and the postmaster having just now sent me word that the mail is about to close, I can only answer him thus.
You are now to keep your ground and expect me at the hills. Pray let A.B.A. know that gamp is a black man, otherwise he may be shocked at the appearance of A.B., who is now about the colour of Peter Yates. Not brown, but a true quadroon yellow; whether from the effects of climate, or travelling four hundred miles in a canoe, is no matter.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Fayetteville, October 23, 1804. I get on as usual; arrived here this forenoon, but detained all day by some trifling repairs to the carriage. I promised you a journal in the manner of modern travels, to show you how such books could be made without facts or ideas. My first four days, to wit, from Statesburgh to this place, would, I find, from notes which I have actually taken, make about one hundred pages, and two hundred in the manner of Rochefoucault d'Liancourt; but the labour of so much writing has alarmed and almost discouraged me.
No more pauses, not even for weather, till Richmond, distant two hundred miles, and proposed to be travelled in five days. I know no person in this place but Mr. Grove, late member of Congress, who has not called on me. Tell your husband that I have heard nothing worthy of being communicated. Since I began to write it has begun to rain, as if to test my determination not to be stopped by weather. Adieu, chere T.
A. BURR.
Warrenton, October 27, 1804.
We parted at Fayetteville. The morning following I started one hour before day, the moon showing us the way, and, at about seven or eight in the evening, was at Raleigh, being full fifty miles. It was a hard day's journey, and greater than will be made again on this trip. The fatigues of the day were in some measure compensated by the very hospitable reception which I met from the negroes of the capital of North Carolina. I reposed till nine the next morning, and came the next day only to Louisburgh (twenty-nine miles), where I slept in the little up-stairs room which you once occupied; but there is a new landlord. The Jew is broke up. The wind had been two days strong at northeast, threatening a storm, and raining a little from time to time. Last night it came on in earnest, raining and blowing vehemently. So I lay abed again till nine, and, after breakfasting for two hours, set off at eleven in all the storm. At twelve it began to snow, and continued to snow most plentifully till night. The ground looked like the depth of winter in Albany. Poor Andrew was almost perished; and gamp's hands were nearly frozen; still we kept on, and got here about five, being twenty-five miles. It will take me full three days more to reach Richmond, and perhaps longer, for the roads are so gullied as to be barely passable. This afternoon, stopping at a tavern and calling for the hostler, the man told me that, foreseeing the storm, he had sent him for a load of wood.
A gentleman who passed here yesterday says he left Major Butler on the way, going to Georgia by land. When I sat down to write my head was full of totally different matters; but, having gone on so far with road incidents, the other concerns must be omitted.
My landlord has just been telling me that Swartwout passed here eight days ago. They were three in the stage, all very apprehensive of being overset, as they were to start at two in the morning. In the excess of caution, they desired the landlord to give no rum to the driver. The landlord promised, and gave orders to the barkeeper. When the driver arrived, he called for a dram; was refused, and told the reason. Resenting this indignity, he swore he would get drunk; went to a store, bought rum, and got drunk. Set out at two, and overset the stage the first hour. The passengers were bruised, but not very seriously injured.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Petersburgh, October 31, 1804.
I came here on the morning of the 29th, intending to stay two hours. The hospitalities of the place have detained me three days. A party was prepared for me on the evening of my arrival. There were present between fifty and sixty, all pure republican. An invitation from the republican citizens, communicated through the mayor, to a public dinner, was made in terms and in a manner which could not be declined. We had the dinner yesterday at the hotel. In the evening I was attended by some fifteen or twenty to the theatre, where I was greatly amused, particularly by Mrs. West, whom I think the best female actress in America, not excepting Mrs. Merry.
I send you a collection of Curran's speeches, compiled, however, only from newspapers. There is reason to hope for one more perfect, made under the inspection of the author. Burk's history has agreeably disappointed me. I speak from the reading of thirty or forty pages. If it should gain your approbation, you may render him a service by procuring him subscriptions at the meeting of your legislature. My horses are at the door to take me to Richmond.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Richmond, October 31 (Evening), 1804.
How faithfully I return you the paper which you lent me at Statesburgh. This is the last sheet, and I think you will have received back all but one of them.
My journey hither from Drummond, at which place you left me on Saturday evening, the 27th, just going to bed, beside a comfortable fire in a furnished room (what an unconscionable parenthesis), has been very pleasant; but why and wherefore cannot now be told, because you know it must be reserved for "The Travels of A. Gamp, Esq., A.M., LL.D., V.P.U.S.," &c., &c., &c., which will appear in due time.
Virginia is the last state, and Petersburgh the last town in the state of Virginia, in which I should have expected any open marks of hospitality and respect. You will have seen from my note of this morning to Mr. Alston how illy I have judged.
To think of meeting with such an actress as Mrs. West in such a place. Her voice is as sweet as Mrs. Merry's (the actress, not the other Mrs. Merry), her manners superior. In comedy she is unequalled. They say she excites equally in tragedy. I have no doubt but she is good at every thing. I could make you laugh at a ridiculous embarrassment, but I won't; nay, I dare not, for who knows but you may first see this in the newspaper. Madam, this is Colonel B., V.P.U.S., all out loud. Sir, this is Mrs.——-. Miss, this is, &c., &c. The players stand, and the pit stand, and the gallery stand. No, there is no gallery. Indeed, I don't know when I have been better entertained with a play.
I arrived here about sunset. Am to dine to-morrow with Dr. B., and, from appearances, might be amused here a week. At the utmost I shall stay but two days, desiring to be at Washington on Monday. I am most comfortably lodged.
Young Dr. Rush travels with Major Butler, which I forgot to mention to your husband. Pray exert yourself to please and amuse Major Butler.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Washington, November 5, 1804.
I arrived last evening. You will have received my two letters of the 30th ult. and 1st instant, communicating, among other things, some information which I received on the road respecting the feelings in Bergen county, New-Jersey. Since that a grand jury has been empannelled, who have found an indictment of murder. The witness, Parson Mason. The presiding judge, Boudinot, one of the most vehement of vehement federalists. The particulars shall be communicated as soon as I can find time to write them; they will furnish you with new materials for reflection. They talk of making a demand here.
My house and furniture have been sold for about twenty-five thousand dollars. Seven or eight thousand dollars of debts remain unpaid. My agents have not collected any of my debts, nor sold any of the detached lots. The library and the wine remain. They will, I think, become your property.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, November 17, 1804.
Shall I write to her to-night, or omit it till to-morrow? Oh! to-night, dear pappy. Well, then, to-night it shall be—"Je vous ecris parceque je n'ai rien a faire," &c. That's not true; fifty unanswered letters on my table pronounce it false.
But when I deliberated about writing, it was with a view to write you sense—grave sense. What a dull thing is sense. How it mars half the pleasure of life, and yet how contemptible is all that has it not. Too much sense, by which I mean only a great deal, is very troublesome to the possessor and to the world. It is like one carrying a huge pack through a crowd. He is constantly hitting and annoying somebody, and is, in turn, annoyed and jostled by every one, and he must be a very powerful man indeed if he can keep upright and force his way. Now there appears to me to be but two modes of carrying this pack with any tolerable comfort to the owner.
Interrupted. A very extraordinary visit; you shall hear as soon as they go.
The visitors were a middle-aged gentleman; a man of fortune, of family; has travelled, and been received in the first circles on both continents; intelligent and well-informed; prompt, rapid, and decisive. A high federalist, yet a warm and open friend of gamp on all occasions. Reputed to be insane, of which this attachment may be deemed an evidence. Such is Mr. Y. The other, Mr. S., a very handsome, genteel young man, who never carried a pack. They sat two hours, and Mr. Y. was not only rational, but amusing. The only evidence of insanity which I have heard is that he quarrels with his dear rib; and if this be deemed evidence, I fear our madhouses will soon be filled with married men. I ought to have excepted one incident, which has been related to me as follows:——
Mr. R., a young lawyer of reputable connexions, but who had committed some follies, called to visit Mr. Y. After sitting some time, "Mr. R.," says Y., "it has been reported that you are a little deranged in mind (there had, in fact, been such a report), and I have heard that whipping has been found a sovereign remedy; indeed, in the case of the King of England, its benefit was manifest. Now as I have a very great regard for you, and doubt whether your friends will take the trouble of administering this discipline, I will take it on myself to do it."
Two stout negroes were called in. The astonished R. was seized, stripped, and tied, and most unmercifully whipped. All, however, with the utmost composure on the part of Y., and mingled with expressions of kindness. When R. was taken down, bloody, lacerated, and exhausted—"Pray, sir, walk in and take a dish of tea." "No; d—-n you." "But, as you must be somewhat fatigued with the exercise, perhaps you would prefer some brandy and water." R. walked sullenly off, and, as soon as he had recovered, left the neighbourhood, and has not since been heard of.
But by this digression we have lost sight of the pack. The further discussion of that subject must be reserved for the "Book of Travels." The "grave sense" is still further off, and must wait a more fit occasion. As you are skilled in ancient mythology, I pray you to inform me whether there was ever a goddess of nonsense. A god won't serve my purpose. Momus, for instance, is a loud, boisterous, rude, coarse fellow.
Leave off the vice-president, &c., in the direction of your letters. Let it be simply A.B. or Colonel B. Tell Mari so.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, December 4, 1804.
You have doubtless heard that there has subsisted for some time a contention of a very singular nature between the states of New-York and New-Jersey. To what lengths it may go, or how it may terminate, cannot be predicted; but, as you will take some interest in the question, I will state it for your satisfaction and consideration.
The subject in dispute is which shall have the honour of hanging the vice-president. I have not now the leisure to state the various pretensions of the parties, with the arguments on either side; nor is it yet known that the vice-president has made his election, though a paper received this morning asserts, but without authority, that he had determined in favour of the New-York tribunals. You shall have due notice of the time and place. Whenever it may be, you may rely on a great concourse of company, much gayety, and many rare sights; such as the lion, the elephant, &c.
On the subject of books, since I shall write to you only by this mail, tell Mr. Alston to order out from his bookseller the British Critic and the Edinburgh Review from their commencement, and to be continued as they shall come out. To form a library is the work of time, and by having these books you may select and give orders without danger of imposition; for though I disclaim much reliance on the judgments of the editors, yet from their extracts and remarks a pretty correct opinion may be formed. I recommend also that you prohibit the sending out of any folio or quarto, unless particularly ordered. Octavo is at about half the price, and much more convenient.
I hope you read Quintilian in the original, and not in translation; and let me entreat you not to pass a word or sentence without understanding it. If I hear a very good account of you, Stuart shall make a picture to please you. God bless thee.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Washington, December 15, 1804.
The trial of Judge Chace will not come on before the middle of January. He is summoned to appear the 2d January. I regret extremely that you cannot be present.
Biddle and Dallas have written a joint letter to Governor Bloomfield, of New-Jersey, urging a nol. pros. in the case of the vice-president. Dallas has, throughout this business, behaved with an independence, and open, active zeal which I could not have expected, and to which I had no personal claim.
The leading republican members of the United States Senate have addressed a similar joint letter to the governor. Many individuals of the same sect co-operate in the measure, and have expressed their opinions by letter and in conversation. Nothing final and favourable will promptly be done. On the other hand, nothing hostile will be attempted. I enclose you the articles of impeachment against Judge Chace, as agreed upon.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, December 31, 1804.
Being the last time I shall write 1804. Now, how much wiser or better are we than this time last year? Have our enjoyments for that period been worth the trouble of living? These are inquiries not wholly congenial with the compliments of the new year, so we will drop them. You would laugh to know the occupation of my New Year's eve. It cannot be written, but it shall at some time be told.
I propose to move my quarters to-morrow, and the confusion has already commenced, and even pervades this letter. Mrs. Merry arrived a few days ago, and looks extremely well. Madame Turreau is supposed to be lost or captured. Mr. Chace's trial will not come on till after the middle of January. Peter Van Ness, the father of General John P., died on the 23d instant. He has left his sons about forty thousand dollars apiece.
Madame, when I enclose you a book or paper, be pleased, at least, to let me know that you or your husband have read it. Pretty business, indeed, for me to be spending hours in cutting and folding pamphlets and papers for people who, perhaps, never open them. Heaven mend you.
A. BURR.
Footnotes:
1. The statement made by William P. Van Ness, Colonel Burr's second.
CHAPTER XIX.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, January 15, 1805.
At five in the morning I shall start for Philadelphia. The object of this journey has been intimated in a former letter. One motive, however, lays down at the bottom of my heart, and has scarcely, as yet, been avowed to myself. You will conjecture, and rightly, that I mean Celeste. That matter shall receive its final decision. Now, to confess the truth, which, however, I have but just discovered, but for this matter the journey would not have been taken. How little is this truth suspected by the hundreds who are at this moment ascribing to the movement motives of profound political importance.
I enclose you a pamphlet written with views the most friendly to A.B. So greatly do I differ from the author, that I have desired a friend to buy them up and burn them. I shall return to this city on the 29th. Adieu.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, January 28, 1805.
Your letter of the 1st of January found me at Philadelphia, and at the moment of leaving it. Your kind wishes came so warm from the heart, that, in a journey of eight hundred miles, at this inclement season, they had not yet cooled.
You treat with too much gravity the New-Jersey affair. It should be considered as a farce, and you will yet see it terminated so as to leave only ridicule and contempt to its abettors. The affair of Celeste is for ever closed, so there is one trouble off hand.
After you get through the book you are now reading, which I think is Anacharsis, or is it Gibbon? you better suspend history till you have gone through B. You do wrong to read so slow the first reading of B. I had rather you went through it like a novel, to get fixed in your mind a kind of map of the whole; after which, when you come to read scientifically, you would better see the relations and bearings of one part to another. In all journeys, whether on foot or on horseback, it is a relief to know not only where you start from, but where you are going to, and all the intermediate stages. I beg that in every letter you will give me one line about B., and ask me questions if you please.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, February 23, 1805.
I regret the unprofitable employment of your time, and sincerely hope such long visitations will not be repeated; but you are something to blame to have taken no books with you, and again for not finding one at Clifton, where I know there are many. Still I believe in your good intentions and in their execution. It will add greatly to my happiness to know that the cultivation of your mind is not neglected; because I know that without it you will become unfit for the duties, as well as the enjoyments of life. Perhaps, also, my vanity may be something concerned.
Your last letters are written with more correctness, and apparently with more attention than is your habit. They have amused and pleased me much. By pleased, I mean gratified my pride. Your critical remarks are quite interesting. I advise you, as soon as you have finished a play, novel, pamphlet, or book, immediately to write an account and criticism of it. You can form no idea how much such a work will amuse you on perusal a few years hence. When A.B.A. has got so far as to read stories of the most simple kind, the least pleasing part of his intellectual education is finished. I might, perhaps, have added with truth, the most laborious part.
A. BURR.
The last public duty of any importance performed by Colonel Burr was to preside in the case of Judge Samuel Chace, who was impeached before the Senate of the United States for high crimes and misdemeanours. Colonel Burr evinced his accustomed promptitude, energy, and dignity. His impartiality and fairness won for him the applause of opponents as well as friends; and it may be confidently asserted, that never did president judge, in this or any other country, more justly merit applause than did the vice-president on this occasion.
The Senate Chamber, under his immediate direction, was fitted up in handsome style as a court, and laid out into apartments for the senators, the House of Representatives, the managers, the accused and counsel, the members of the executive departments, besides a semicircular gallery constructed within the area of the chamber, which formed from its front an amphitheatre contiguous with the fixed gallery of the Senate Chamber.
On the right and left of the president of the Senate, and in a right line with his chair, there were two rows of benches, with desks in front, and the whole front and seats covered with crimson cloth, so that the senators fronted the auditory.
The secretary of the Senate retained his usual station in front of the president's chair; on the left of the secretary was placed the sergeant-at-arms of the Senate, and on his right the sergeant-at-arms of the House of Representatives.
A temporary semicircular gallery, which consisted of three ranges of benches, was elevated on pillars, and the whole front and seats thereof covered with green cloth. At the angles or points of this gallery there were two boxes, which projected into the area about three feet from the line of the front, which saved the abruptness of a square termination, and added considerably to the effect of the coup d'oeil. In this gallery ladies were accommodated, and they assembled in numbers.
On the floor beneath this temporary gallery three benches were provided, rising from front to rear, and also covered with green cloth; these benches were occupied by the members of the House of Representatives; on the right there was a spacious box, appropriated for the members of the executive departments, foreign ministers, &c.
A passage was opened in front from the president's chair to the door; on the right and left hand of the president, and in front of the members of the House of Representatives, were two boxes of two rows of seats; that facing the president's right was occupied by the managers, that on the other side of the bar for the accused and his counsel. These boxes were covered with blue cloth. The marshal of the District of Columbia and a number of his officers were stationed in the avenues of the court and in the galleries. |
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