Memoirs of Aaron Burr Part 36

Pay Moore nothing till I return, unless you see cause. Let him rough-cast, if he is confident of succeeding; but tell him I will not pay him till I am convinced it will bear weather, and last.

If the sheriff of Bergen (Dey) calls for his money, I enclose a note with a blank for the name. You must speak to either Malcom or Lente for their a.s.sistance, unless you can think of something more convenient, putting the matter in such light as your address shall think proper. If for any reasons you should prefer to make use of Popham's name, do it. The person whose name is put in the note must endorse it, and the note be dated. Let one of the boys go over to Mrs.

Baldwin for the certificate of the balance of the account, which, if obtained, a deduction must be made accordingly. Perhaps, by paying three or four hundred pounds, Mr. Morris will consent to wait my return. Perhaps, at your instance, he will wait that time without any payment. All which is humbly submitted. I enclose two notes, that you may take your choice.

Mr. Watrous's business respecting the land is not very material. If it should have failed, you may inform him that I have long since filed a caveat which will cover his claim.

I bear the fatigues of our business to admiration. Have great appet.i.te, and sleep sound about ten hours a night. I am already as black as a Shawanese. You will scarce know me if I continue this business a few days longer. Thank our dear children for their kind letters. But they are so afraid of tiring either me or themselves (I suspect the latter), that they tell me few, very few, of those interesting trifles which I want to know.

Let T. give them any new steps he pleases, but not one before the others. If any one is behind or less apt, more pains must be taken to keep them on a par. This I give in charge to you.

I fear you flatter me with respect to your health. You seem a little studied on that score, which is not very natural to you when speaking truth. But, if it is not true, it is surely your own fault. Go to bed early, and do not fatigue your self with running about house. And upon no account any long walks, of which you are so fond, and for which you are so unfit. Simple diet will suit you best. Restrain all gout for intemperance till some future time not very distant.

I do not _nor can_ promise myself all you promise me with respect to the children. I have been too much mortified on that subject to remove it at once.

This is the last expedition of the kind I shall ever undertake; and ever since I have been here I have been planning ways to extricate myself from it, but am defeated, and shall be absolutely detained prisoner till the business is concluded. Johnstone can give you an account of my quarters and mode of life. You haunt me daily more and more. I really fear I shall do little justice to the business which brought me here.

The children must pardon my not writing. I have a number of memorandums of business to make out for Johnstone. Thank them again for their letters, and beg them not to be so churlish.

Let one of the boys haunt Moore. But you surely can do it without letting him vex you, even supposing he does nothing. I had much rather that should be the case than that you should be one minute out of humour with him.

The girls must go on with Tetard in his own way till I come, when I will set all right.

It is already late. I must be up at sunrise. Bon soir, ma chere amie.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR

Chester, 19th May, 2 o'clock P. M., 1785.

We have this day begun the examination of witnesses, which, together with the arguments, will keep us the greater part, and probably the whole, of next week. I find myself gaining strength exceedingly since my return from New-York, though perfectly out of humour with the business, the distance, and the delay.

My trip to New-York has quite ruined me for business. I cannot confine my mind to it. I am literally homesick, and think of nothing else. A witness attending in court informs me of his going to New-York as soon as his testimony is finished. I desert a moment to tell you that I am wholly yours.

6 o'clock P. M., 19th May.

Since I wrote you at two o'clock our court is adjourned till nine to-morrow. We go on briskly and in great good nature. If you were half as punctual or as fortunate (which shall I call it?), I should absolutely fancy myself talking with you. It would be some indemnification for the distance and vexation. Make up in thinking of me, and taking care of yourself, what you omit in writing. Thine at all moments.

9 o'clock at night, 19th May.

A thousand thanks for your dear affectionate letter of Tuesday evening. I was just sitting pensively and half complaining of your remissness, when your letter is received and dispels every gloomy thought. I write this from the impulse of my feelings, and in obedience to your injunctions, having no opportunity in view.

The letters of our dear children are a feast. Every part of them is pleasing and interesting. Le Jenne is not expected to be in New-York for some weeks at least. I avoid the subject. I shudder at the idea of suffering any thing to mar the happiness I promise myself.

There is no possibility of my return till the middle of next week. In one of my letters I put it to the last of next week, but we have this day made unexpected progress. If we are equally fortunate and equally good-natured, we may finish Wednesday night; but this is conjecture, and perhaps my impatience makes me too sanguine.

I broke off at the bottom of the other page to pay some attention to those who deserve much from me (our dear children). To hear that they are employed, that no time is absolutely wasted, is the most flattering of any thing that can be told me of them. It ensures their affection, or is the best evidence of it. It ensures, in its consequences, every thing I am ambitions of in them. Endeavour to preserve regularity of hours; it conduces exceedingly to industry.

I have just heard of a Mr. Brown who goes down by water. As I may not have another opportunity, I hazard it by him. He promises to leave it at old Mr. Rutherford's. Our business goes on very moderately this morning. Witnesses all tardy. We have adjourned for want of something to do. Melancholy and vexatious. It has given me a headache. We shall be holden, I fear, all next week. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Chester, 8 o'clock, 20th May, 1785.

Worse and worse. During the whole day we have not been five hours at business. Our witnesses are so aged, and many so remote, that they will not be in till Monday, so that, at this rate, we shall eke out the whole of next week. I have at no time been so completely out of patience; just now particularly, being a little churlish with my headache, which, though not very severe, unfits me for any thing but writing to you.

I wrote you and the whole flock last evening, and added a line to you this morning, and sent off the packet by a Mr. Brown, who goes by water, and promised to deliver it him-self. He has business at old Mr.

Rutherford's. If he is punctual, don't forget him in thinking of the letters. Do say something that will make me a little more content with this vexatious delay and imprisonment. I am prompted to write a hundred things which I dare not, for fear I shall not find a safe conveyance: that was particularly the case last evening and this morning. It is perhaps fortunate, or I should spend too much time with you in this way. I believe I do as it is. Adieu, a little while. I am just going to prepare some hot punch.

Ten o'clock.

I have been till this minute making and sipping punch, and with great success. It has thrown me into a perspiration, which obliges me to go to bed. I am very illy reconciled to leave you and bid you good-night, but so says my hard lot.

Sat.u.r.day morning, 8 o'clock.

I lay awake till after three o'clock this morning; then got up and took a large dose of medicine. It was composed posed of laudanum, nitre, and other savoury drugs, which procured me sleep till now: have no headache; must eat breakfast, and away to court as fast as possible.

Sat.u.r.day Evening.

Every thing almost stands still. I begin to despair of getting away. I am sure the whole of next week will not finish our business at the present rate. To make it more tedious and disagreeable, some of us are less good-humoured than at first. Not a line from you since that I have mentioned. I can find no opportunity for this. I am too vexed to utter one sentiment.

Sunday, 22d May.

No opportunity for this scrawl yet. I begin to be tired of seeing it, and wish it gone for this reason; and also, because I try to persuade myself you would be glad to receive it.

To-day we have fine scope to reflect how much better we might have employed it, had we been active in our business last week. I find the whole might have been finished by yesterday (if the witnesses on both sides had been ready) as well as a month hence.

My room is a kind of rendezvous for our side: have seldom, therefore, time either to think or write, unless at night or early in the morning. Judge Yates concludes to give us a few days of his company, and to accept of a room with us. The coming of Le Jeune uncertain; not probably till fall. You will receive a pail of b.u.t.ter, perhaps, with this. I have been contracting for the year.

Have you done running up and down stairs? How do you live, sleep, and amuse yourself? I wish, if you have leisure (or, if you have not, make it), you would read the Abbe Mably's little book on the Const.i.tution of the United States. St. John has it in French, which is much better than a translation. This, you see, will save me the trouble of reading it; and I shall receive it with much more emphasis par la bouche d'amour. Adieu. I seal this instantly, lest I be tempted to write more. Again adieu.

A. BURR.

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, May 22d, 1785.

Your letter by Mr. Bayard was brought me on Sat.u.r.day, and the first I had received since the one by Mr. Marvin till to-day. Mr. Brown very punctually and civilly came with your welcome packet of Thursday, nine o'clock. It was just before dinner; the children were dispersed at different employments. I furnished the mantelpiece with the contents of the packet. When dinner was served up they were called. You know the usual eagerness on this occasion. They were all seated but Bartow, when he espied the letters; the surprise, the joy, the exclamations exceed description. The greatest stoic would have forgot himself. A silent tear betrayed me no _philosopher_. A most joyous repast succeeded. We talked of our happiness, of our first of blessings, our best of papas. I enjoyed, my Aaron, the only happiness that could accrue from your absence. It was a momentary compensation; the only one I ever experienced. Your letters always afford me a singular satisfaction;--a sensation entirely my own; this was peculiarly so. It wrought strangely on my mind and spirits. My Aaron, it was replete with tenderness! with the most lively affection. I read and re-read, till afraid I should get it by rote, and mingle it with common ideas; profane the sacred pledge. No; it shall not be. I will economize the boon. I will limit the recreation to those moments of retirement devoted to thee. Of a sudden I found myself unusually fatigued. I reflected on the cause, and soon found I had mounted the stairs much oftener than I could possibly have done on any other occasion.