Memoirs Of Aaron Burr, Volume 1 by Matthew L. Davis (best book recommendations .txt) 📖

You In Her Presence. She

Was One Whole Day Indifferent To Every Thing But Your Name. Her

Attachment Is Not Of A Common Nature; Though This Was My Opinion, I

Avoided The Remark, When Mr. Grant Observed It To Me As A Singular

Instance.

 

 

You See I Have Followed Your Example In Speaking First Of Myself. I

Esteemed It A Real Trait Of Your Affection, A Sympathy In The

Feelings, The Anxiety Of Your Theo., Who Had Every Fear For Your

Health; More Than You Would Allow Her To Express.

 

 

The Garden Wall Is Begun. I Fear The Front Pavement Will Not Answer

Your Intention. I Write You Again Tomorrow. Much Love Awaits Thee.

Thine, Unchangeably,

 

 

Theodosia Burr.

Chapter XIV Pg 256

From Mrs. Burr.

 

 

New-York, 25Th September, 1785.

 

 

Your Dear Letter Of Saturday Morning Has Just Reached Me. I Was

Relieved, Delighted, Till The Recollection Of The Storm You Have Since

Weathered Took Place. How Have You Borne It? Ten Thousand Fears Alarm

Me. I Pursued Thee Yesterday, Through Wind And Rain, Till Eve, When,

Fatigued, Exhausted, Shivering, Thou Didst Reach Thy Haven, Surrounded

With Inattention, Thy Theo. From Thee. Thus Agitated, I Laid My Head

Upon A Restless Pillow, Turning From Side To Side, When Thy Kindred

Spirit Found Its Mate. I Beheld My Much-Loved Aaron, His Tender Eyes

Fixed Kindly On Me; They Spake A Body Wearied, Wishing Repose, But Not

Sick. This Soothed My Troubled Spirit: I Slept Tolerably, But Dare Not

Trust Too Confidently. I Hasten To My Friend To Realize The Delightful

Vision; Naught But Thy Voice Can Tranquillize My Mind. Thou Art The

Constant Subject Of Love, Hope, And Fear. The Girls Bewail The

Sufferings Of Their Dear Papa; The Boys Wish Themselves In His Place;

Frederick Frets At The Badness Of The Horse; Wishes Money Could Put

Him In Thy Stead. The Unaffected Warmth Of His Heart Delights Me. If

Aught Can Alleviate Thy Absence, 'Tis These Testimonies Of Gratitude

And Affection From The Young And Guileless To The Best Of Parents.

They Feel The Hand That Blesses Them, And Love Because They Are

Blessed. Thy Orders Shall Be Attended To. Mamma Joins In The Warmest

Assurances Of Sincere Affection. Theodosia And Sally In Perfect

Health. Beyond Expression,

 

 

Yours,

 

 

Theodosia Burr.

Chapter XIV Pg 257

From Mrs. Burr.

 

 

New-York, 27Th September, 1785.

 

 

I Have Counted The Hours Till Evening; Since That, The Minutes, And Am

Still On The Watch; The Stage Not Arrived: It Is A Cruel Delay. Your

Health, Your Tender Frame, How Are They Supported! Anxiety Obliterates

Every Other Idea; Every Noise Stops My Pen; My Heart Flutters With

Hope And Fear; The Pavement From This To Cape'S [4] Is Kept Warm By

The Family; Every Eye And Ear Engrossed By Expectation; My Mind Is In

Too Much Trepidation To Write. I Resume My Pen After Another

Messenger, In Vain. I Will Try To Tell You That Those You Love Are

Well; That The Boys Are Very Diligent; Ireson Gone To Westchester. My

New Medicine Will, I Flatter Myself, Prove A Lucky One. Sally

Amazingly Increased. Fream At Work At The Roof. He Thinks It Too Flat

To Be Secured. The Back Walls Of The House Struck Through With The

Late Rain. M.Y. Still At Miss W. You Must Not Expect To Find Dancing

On Thursday Night. I Should Think It A Degree Of Presumption To Make

The Necessary Preparations Without Knowing The State Of Your Health.

Should This Account Prove Favourable, I Still Think It Best To Delay

It, As The Stage Is Very Irregular In Its Return. That Of Saturday Did

Not Arrive Till Sunday Morning; It Brought An Unfavourable Account Of

The Roads. Thus You Probably Would Not Partake, Nor Would I Wish

Spectators To Check My Vigilance, Or Divide That Attention Which Is

Ever Insufficient When Thou Art The Object. O, My Aaron, How Impatient

I Am To Welcome Thy Return; To Anticipate Thy Will, And Receive Thy

Loved Commands. The Clock Strikes Eleven. No Stage. My Letter Must Go.

I Have Been Three Hours Writing, Or Attempting To Write, This

Imperfect Scrawl. The Children Desire Me To Speak Their Affection.

Mamma Will Not Be Forgot; She Especially Shares My Anxiousness. Adieu.

 

 

Theodosia Burr

Chapter XIV Pg 258

To Mrs. Burr.

 

 

Albany, October 30Th, 1785. I Have Received Your Two Affectionate

Letters. The Enclosed Was Intended To Have Been Sent By The Stage

Which I Met On My Way Up; But, By Untoward Accidents (Needless To

Detail), Yet Lies By Me. My Disorder Has Left Me Almost Since I Left

The City.

 

 

The Person With Whom I Had Business Had Gone From This Place Before My

Arrival, So That I Should Have Been, Ere This, On My Return, But That

I Have Suffered Myself To Be Engaged In Two Land Causes (Van Hoesen

And Van Rensselaer), Which Begin To-Morrow, And Will Probably Last The

Whole Week. I Am Retained For Van Hoesen, Together With J. Bay And P.

W. Yates. Such Able Coadjutors Will Relieve Me Of The Principal

Burden. You May Judge With What Reluctance I Engaged In A Business

Which Will Detain Me So Long From All That Is Dear And Lovely. I Dare

Not Think On The Period I Have Yet To Be Absent. I Feel It In Some

Sort A Judgment For The Letters Written By The Girls To N.W.

 

 

Your Account Of Your Health Is Very Suspicious; You Are Not Particular

Enough; You Say Nothing Of The Means You Use To Restore Yourself;

Whether You Take Exercise, Or How You Employ Your Time.

 

 

I Shall Probably Leave This On Sunday Next; My Horse Will Not Take Me

Home In Three Days. I Fear I Shall Not See You Till Wednesday Morning

Of Next Week; Perhaps Not Even Then, For I Am Engaged To Attend The

Court At Bedford On Tuesday Of Next Week. You Shall Hear Again By The

Stage.

 

 

Will Not These Continued Rains Deprive Us Of The Pleasure Of The

Promised Visit Of The W.'S? How Is It Possible You Can Write Me Such

Short Letters, Having So Much Leisure, And Surrounded With All That

Can Interest Me? Adieu.

 

 

A. Burr.

Chapter XIV Pg 259

To Mrs. Burr.

 

 

Albany, 2D November, 1785.

 

 

I Have Lived These Three Days Upon The Letters I Expected This

Evening, And Behold The Stage Without A Line! I Have Been Through The

Rain, And Dark, And Mud, Hunting Up Every Passenger To Catechise Them

For Letters, And Can Scarce Yet Believe That I Am So Totally

Forgotten.

 

 

Our Trial, Of Which I Wrote You On Sunday, Goes On Moderately. It Will

Certainly Last Till Twelve O'Clock On Saturday Night; Longer It

Cannot, That Being The Last Hour Of Court. Of Course, I Leave This On

Sunday; Shall Be Detained At Westchester Till About Thursday Noon, And

Be Home On Friday. This Is My Present Prospect; A Gloomy One, I

Confess; Rendered More So By Your Unpardonable Silence. I Have A

Thousand Questions To Ask, But Why Ask Of The Dumb?

 

 

I Am Quite Recovered. The Trial In Which I Am Engaged Is A Fatiguing

One, And In Some Respects Vexatious. But It Puts Me In Better Humour

To Reflect That You Have Just Received My Letter Of Sunday, And Are

Saying Or Thinking Some Good-Natured Things Of Me. Determining To

Write Any Thing That Can Amuse And Interest Me; Every Thing That Can

Atone For The Late Silence, Or Compensate For The Hard Fate That

Divides Us.

 

 

Since Being Here I Have Resolved That You In Future Accompany Me On

Such Excursions, And I Am Provoked To Have Yielded To Your Idle Fears

On This Occasion. I Have Told Here Frequently, Within A Day Or Two,

That I Was Never So Long From Home Before, Till, Upon Counting Days, I

Find I Have Been Frequently Longer. I Am So Constantly Anticipating

The Duration Of This Absence, That When I Speak Of It I Realize The

Whole Of It.

 

 

Let Me Find That You Have Done Justice To Yourself And Me. I Shall

Forgive None The Smallest Omission On This Head. Do Not Write By The

Monday Stage, Or Rather, Do Not Send The Letter You Write, As It Is

Possible I Shall Leave The Stage-Road In My Way To Bedford.

 

 

Affectionately Adieu,

 

 

A. Burr.

Footnote Pg 260

 

 

 

1. Major Popham, Fifty-Four Years After The Date Of This Letter,

Attended As A Pall-Bearer The Funeral Of Colonel Burr, The Friend Of

His Youth.

Footnote Pg 261