Governor Tryon planned an expedition to Horse Neck, for the purpose of destroying the salt-works erected there, and marched with about 2000 men. Colonel Burr received early information of their movements, and sent word to General Putnam to hold the enemy at bay for a few hours, and he (Colonel Burr) would be in their rear and be answerable for them. By a messenger from him, Colonel Burr was informed by that general that he had been obliged to retreat, and that the enemy were advancing into Connecticut. This information, which unfortunately was not correct, altered Colonel Burr’s route towards Mamaroneck, which enabled Tryon to get the start of him. Colonel Burr then endeavoured to interrupt him in Eastchester, according to his first plan, and actually got within cannon-shot of him; but Tryon ran too fast, and in his haste left most or all of his cattle and plunder behind him, and many stragglers, who were picked up.
I will mention another enterprise, which proved more successful, though equally hazardous. Soon after Tryon’s retreat, Colonel Delancey, who commanded the British refugees, in order to secure themselves against surprise, erected a block-house on a rising ground below Delancey’s bridge. This Colonel Burr resolved to destroy. I was in that expedition, and recollect the circumstances.
He procured a number of hand-grenades, also rolls of port-fire, and canteens filled with inflammable materials, with contrivances to attach them to the side of the block-house. He set out with his troops early in the evening, and arrived within a mile of the block-house by two o’clock in the morning. The colonel gave Captain Black the command of about forty volunteers, who were first to approach. Twenty of them were to carry the port-fires, &c., &c. Those who had hand-grenades had short ladders to enable them to reach the port-holes, the exact height of which Colonel Burr had ascertained. Colonel Burr gave Captain Black his instructions, in the hearing of his company, assuring him of his protection if they were attacked by superior numbers; for it was expected that the enemy, who had several thousand men at and near Kingsbridge, would endeavour to cut us off, as we were several miles below them. Burr directed those who carried the combustibles to march in front as silently as possible. That, on being hailed, they should light the hand-grenades, &c., with a slow match provided for the purpose, and throw them into the port-holes. I was one of the party that advanced. The sentinel hailed and fired. We rushed on. The first hand-grenade that was thrown in drove the enemy from the upper story, and before they could take any measure to defend it, the block-house was on fire in several places. Some few escaped, and the rest surrendered without our having lost a single man. Though many shot were fired at us, we did not fire a gun.
During the period of Colonel Burr’s command, but two attempts were made by the enemy to surprise our guards, in both of which they were defeated.
After Colonel Burr left this command, Colonel Thompson, a man of approved bravery, assumed it, and the enemy, in open day, advanced to his headquarters, took Colonel Thompson, and took or killed all his men, with the exception of about thirty.
My father’s house, with all his outhouses, were burnt. After these disasters our troops never made an effort to protect that part of the country. The American lines were afterwards changed, and extended from Bedford to Croton bridge, and from there, following the course of that river, to the Hudson. All the intermediate country was abandoned and unprotected, being about twenty miles in the rear of the ground which Colonel Burr had maintained.
The year after the defeat of Colonel Thompson, Colonel Green, a brave, and in many respects a valuable officer, took the command, making his headquarters at Danford’s, about a mile above the Croton. This position was well chosen. But Colonel Green omitted to inform himself of the movements of the enemy, and consequently was surprised. Himself, Major Flagg, and other officers were killed, and a great part of the men were either killed or taken prisoners: yet these officers had the full benefit of Colonel Burr’s system.
Having perused what I have written, it does not appear to me that I have conveyed any adequate idea of Burr’s military character. It may be aided a little by reviewing the effects he produced. The troops of which he took command were, at the time he took the command, undisciplined, negligent, and discontented. Desertions were frequent. In a few days these very men were transformed into brave and honest defenders; orderly, contented, and cheerful; confident in their own courage, and loving to adoration their commander, whom every man considered as his personal friend. It was thought a severe punishment, as well as disgrace, to be sent up to the camp, where they had nothing to do but to lounge and eat their rations.
During the whole of this command there was not a single desertion. Not a single death by sickness. Not one made prisoner by the enemy; for Burr had taught us that a soldier with arms in his hand ought never, under any circumstances, to surrender; no matter if he was opposed to thousands, it was his duty to fight.
After the first ten days there was not a single instance of robbery. The whole country, under his command, enjoyed security. The inhabitants, to express their gratitude, frequently brought presents of such articles as the country afforded; but Colonel Burr would accept no present. He fixed reasonable prices, and paid in cash for every thing that was received, and sometimes, I know, that these payments were made with his own money. Whether these advances were repaid, I know not.
Colonel Simcoe, one of the most daring and active partisans in the British army, was, with Colonels Emerick and Delancey, opposed to Burr on the lines, yet they were completely held in check.
But perhaps the highest eulogy on Colonel Burr is, that no man could be found capable of executing his plans, though the example was before them.
When Burr left the lines a sadness overspread the country, and the most gloomy forebodings were too soon fulfilled, as you have seen above.
The period of Colonel Burr’s command was so full of activity and of incident, that every day afforded some new lesson of instruction. But you will expect only a general outline, and this faint one is the best in my power to give.
With esteem, yours,
SAMUEL YOUNG.
Footnotes:
1. See Chapter IX
CHAPTER XI.
The military career of Colonel Burr was now drawing to a close. The state of his health became alarming. His constitution was shattered. His medical and other friends were of the opinion that he was incapable of enduring the fatigues of another campaign. In the judgment and talents of Dr. Eustis he reposed great confidence. That gentleman pressed upon him, in a manner the most affectionate, the necessity for his retiring. The sacrifice required of Burr was inconceivably great. All his views and feelings were military. He seemed as though he was born a soldier. He was ambitious of fame in his profession. He had acquired a character for vigilance and intrepidity unrivalled in the army. He was more than respected by his brother officers, and idolized by the troops. As a man and a citizen, he was exceedingly disliked by General Washington. Causes, unnecessary to examine at this late period of time, had created between these gentlemen feelings of hostility that were unconquerable, and were never softened or mollified. Yet even General Washington, while he considered Burr destitute of morals and of principle, respected him as a soldier, and gave repeated evidence of entire confidence in his gallantry, his persevering industry, his judgment, and his discretion. At length, however, protracted disease compelled him to abandon all those hopes of glory, nobly won in the battle-field, which had inflamed his ardent and youthful mind; and on the 10th of March, 1779, he tendered to the commander-in-chief his resignation.
TO GENERAL WASHINGTON.
Phillipsburgh, 10th March, 1779.
Sir,
The reasons I did myself the honour to mention to your excellency in a letter of September last still exist, and determine me to resign my rank and command in the army.
The polite indulgence you favoured me with at that time restored temporarily my health. At the instance of General McDOUGALL, I accepted the command of these posts; but I find my health unequal to the undertaking, and have acquainted him of my intentions to retire. He has ordered an officer to relieve me before the 15th of March, on which day I purpose to leave this command and the army.
Very respectfully,
A. BURR.
FROM GENERAL WASHINGTON.
Middlebrook, 3d April, 1779.
Sir,
I have to acknowledge your favour of the 10th ultimo. Perfectly satisfied that no consideration save a desire to reestablish your health could induce you to leave the service, I cannot therefore withhold my consent. But, in giving permission to your retiring from the army, I am not only to regret the loss of a good officer, but the cause which makes his resignation necessary. When it is convenient to transmit the settlement of your public accounts, it will receive my final acceptance.
I am, &c.,
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
A few days previous to Colonel Burr’s resignation of his commission, he received from the widow of General Montgomery the following letter:–
FROM MRS. J. MONTGOMERY.
Rhinebeck, 7th March, 1779.
SIR,
I should before this have answered your obliging letter, had not the marriage of my eldest sister entirely taken up my time. I now return you, sir, many thanks for your kind offers of service. The sincerity with which they were made would have allowed me to accept them, without fears of giving you trouble, had I not determined to run no more risks, as I have been very unfortunate in my ventures that way.
You have awakened all my sensibility by the praises you bestow on my unfortunate general. He was, indeed, an angel sent us for a moment. Alas! for me, that this world was not more worthy of him–then had I still been the happiest of women, _and his friends in stations more equal to their own merits_. Reflections like these imbitter continually each day as it passes. But I trust in the same merciful Hand which has held me from sinking in my extreme calamity, that he will still support and make me worthy of a blessed meeting hereafter. Can you excuse, sir, the overflowing of a heart that knows not where to stop when on a subject so interesting?
Mr. Tutard tells me you mean to quit the service. Whenever that happens, you will doubtless have leisure to pay us a visit, which I wish you to believe will give real pleasure to,
Sir, your obliged
J. MONTGOMERY.
FROM WILLIAM PATERSON.
The Ponds, 18th March, 1779.
MY DEAR BURR,
I came to this place yesterday in the afternoon, and regret extremely that I did not arrive earlier in the day, as I should have received your letter. My stay here will be uncertain. At home I must be by the beginning of April. I should be happy in seeing you before my return, but how to effect it is the question. If I could possibly disengage myself from business, I would take a ride to Paramus. My best respects await on Mrs. Prevost; and every thing you think proper to the mistress of your affections. I am married, Burr, and happy. May you be equally so. I cannot form a higher or a better wish. You know I should rejoice to meet you. Tell Mrs. Prevost that I shall take it unkindly if she does not call upon me whenever she thinks I can be of any service to her. To oblige her will give me pleasure for her own sake, and double pleasure for yours. This is a strange, unconnected scroll; you have it as it comes.
I congratulate you on your return to civil life, for which (I cannot forbear the thought) we must thank a certain lady not far from Paramus. May I have occasion soon to thank her on another account; and may I congratulate you both in the course of the next moon for being in my line: I mean the married. Adieu.
I am most sincerely yours,
WILLIAM PATERSON.
FROM GENERAL McDOUGALL.
Headquarters, Peekskill, 20th March, 1779.
SIR,
My late intelligence from New-York and headquarters clearly mark the enemy’s intention to make a movement very soon. Whether it is intended against the grand army, these posts, or New-London, time only can determine. It is, however, our duty to be prepared. As a few days will open up his views, _I imagine you do not think of quitting the ground when business is to be done_. Should the enemy move up the river in force, his thieves will be very busy below. Colonel Hammond’s regiment, on such an event, is to remain there; and one hundred rank and file of continental troops _only_ are to keep them in countenance. The rest, under charge of officers, to be sent up to join their corps.
You know the state of forage at this post. I wish you would make an exertion to your left in front, to secure all you can for us; as much as will consist with the safety of your party, and covering to the rebels at Tarrytown. Send for Haynes and his assistant, and keep them on the ground till they secure all that is practicable to be got from your left. The weather has been so stormy and uncertain, the —– are not yet sent for. To-morrow morning it will be done. Please to attend to the enclosed order respecting provisions. Late Learned’s is moved to West Point.
Major Hull’s, of the 19th, is this moment received, and will be attended to. I wish Captain Kearsley, Lieutenants Hunter and Lawrence, to be sent to their regiments when Colonel Burr has finished what he intends. They are much wanted. Note the contents of the enclosed resolve.
Yours, very respectfully,
ALEXANDER McDOUGALL.
It has been seen that Colonel Burr, while he commanded at White Plains, on the frontier, not only kept the adjacent country in a state of security, but that he kept the enemy in complete check. He was succeeded in his command by Colonel Littlefield, who was soon captured, and the post abandoned. Major Hull, in a letter to Colonel Burr, dated the 29th of May, 1779, says, “_The ground you so long defended is now left to the depredations of the enemy, and our friends in distressing circumstances_.”
In the beginning of June, Sir Henry Clinton captured the forts at Stony Point and Verplanck’s Point, and threatened West Point. His force in this direction was upwards of six thousand rank and file. The communication between General Washington, who was in New-Jersey, and General McDOUGALL, who was at Newburgh, was greatly embarrassed. Bandits were placed by the British in or near the passes through the chains of mountains leading to Sussex, for the purpose of capturing the expresses charged with despatches. At this critical moment Colonel Burr was on a visit to McDOUGALL, who informed him that he had made various unsuccessful attempts to communicate with Washington, and that his expresses had either been captured or had deserted. After apologizing to Burr, who was no longer in active service, the general stated the importance of the commander-in-chief’s knowing the position and movements of the enemy, as well as the state of the American army. He then very courteously requested Burr to be the bearer of a verbal communication to Washington on the subject. To this, notwithstanding his ill health and the danger of the enterprise, he assented. The mission was undertaken and succeeded. He was also charged at the same time with _verbal_ orders from General St. Clair, of a confidential character, to officers commanding at different posts.
_To whom it may concern_:–
Colonel Burr, being on urgent public business, is to be put across the ferry to New-Windsor without delay. Given this second day of June, 1779.
ALEXANDER McDOUGALL, Major-general.
_To whom it may concern_:–
Colonel Burr, being on very pressing public business, every magistrate will assist him in changing horses, and all friends of the country will also assist him.
June 2d, 1779. ALEXANDER McDOUGALL, Major-general.
_To whom it may concern_:–
Colonel Burr, being on urgent public business, must be put across the ferry to Fishkill landing without a moment’s delay. Given at Pompton, 3d June, 1779.
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, Major-general.
_To whom it may concern_:–
The quartermaster and commissary, at Newburgh or New-Windsor, will receive and observe, as my orders, the verbal directions given by Colonel Burr. Given at Pompton, 3d June, 1779.
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, Major-general.
On this enterprise a most amusing incident occurred. Colonel Burr arrived at the iron-works of the elder Townsend, in Orange county, with a tired and worn-out horse. No other could be obtained; but, after some detention, a half-broken mule, named _Independence_, was procured, and the colonel mounted. But _Independence_ refused to obey orders, and a battle ensued. The mule ran off with his rider, and ascended a high bank, on the side of which stood a coal-house, filled with coal through an aperture in the top. At length, _Independence_, in the hope of clearing himself of his encumbrance, entered the coal-house at full speed, the colonel firmly keeping his seat, and both came down an inclined plane of coal, not less than thirty feet in height. On reaching the ground without injury, Burr hired a man to lead the animal a mile or two, and then again mounted him and pursued his journey. This scene was exhibited on a hot day in the month of June, amid a cloud of coal-dust. The anecdote Burr occasionally repeated to his friends, and some of the younger branches of the Townsend family.
About the first of July, 1779, Colonel Burr, then in feeble health, visited his friends in Connecticut. He was at New-Haven when, on the 5th of July, the British landed, with 2600 men, in two divisions; one under Governor Tryon, at East Haven, and the other under Garth, at West Haven. At East Haven, where Tryon commanded, great excesses were committed, and the town set on fire. Colonel Burr was at this moment confined to his bed; but, on hearing that the enemy were advancing, rose and proceeded to a part of the town where a number of persons had collected. He volunteered to take command of the militia, and made an unsuccessful attempt to rally them. At this moment he was informed that the students had organized themselves, and were drawn up in the college-yard. He immediately galloped to the ground, and addressed them; appealing, in a few words, to their patriotism and love of country; imploring them to set the example, and march out in the defence of those rights which would, at a future day, become their inheritance. All he asked was, that they would receive and follow him as their leader.
The military character of Colonel Burr was known to the students. They confided in his intrepidity, experience, and judgment. In their ranks there was no faltering. They promptly obeyed the summons, and volunteered. Some skirmishing soon ensued, and portions of the militia united with them. The British, ignorant of the force that might be presented, retired; but shortly returned, with several pieces of artillery, when a cannonading commenced, and the boys retreated in good order. An American historian says,–“The British entered the town after being much galled and harassed.” The slight check which they thus received afforded an opportunity for the removal of some valuables, and many of the women and children.
Trifling and unimportant as this skirmishing appears to have been, Colonel Burr never referred to the incident but with exultation and pride. Perhaps no event in his military life has he more frequently mentioned. The confidence evinced by these young men he considered complimentary to himself as a soldier; and usually alluded to the circumstance as evidence of the effect which the character of an officer would ever have upon undisciplined men, when called to command them upon trying occasions.
The following letter, written by Colonel Platt, will close all that is intended to be said of Colonel Burr as a soldier. More space has been occupied with an account of his military character than would have been thus occupied, if it was not known that he felt proud of his own career as an officer. For history Mr. Burr entertained a great contempt. He confided but little in its details. These prejudices were probably strengthened by the consideration that justice, in his opinion, had not been done to himself.
COLONEL RICHARD PLATT TO COMMODORE VALENTINE MORRIS.
New-York, January 27th, 1814.
DEAR SIR,
In reply to yours of the 20th of November last, requesting to be informed what was the reputation and services of Colonel Burr during the revolutionary war? I give you the following detail of facts, which you may rely on. No man was better acquainted with him, and his military operations, than your humble servant, who served in that war from the 28th of June, 1775, till the evacuation of our capital on the memorable 25th of November, 1783; having passed through the grades of lieutenant, captain, major, major of brigade, aid-de-camp, deputy adjutant-general, and deputy quartermaster-general; the last of which by selection and recommendation of Generals Greene, McDOUGALL, and Knox, in the most trying crisis of the revolution, viz., the year 1780, when the continental money ceased to pass, and there was no other fiscal resources during that campaign but what resulted from the creative genius of Timothy Pickering, at that crisis appointed successor to General Greene, the second officer of the American army, who resigned the department because there was no money in the national coffers to carry it through the campaign, declaring that he could not, and would not attempt it, without adequate resources, such as he abounded in during the term of nearly three years antecedently as quartermaster-general.
In addition to the foregoing, by way of elucidation, it is to be understood by you, that so early as from the latter part of the year 1776, I was always attached to a commanding general; and, in consequence, my knowledge of the officers and their merits was more general than that of almost any other in service. My operations were upon the extended scale, from the remotest parts of Canada, wherever the American standard had waved, to the splendid theatre of Yorktown, when and where I was adjutant-general to the chosen troops of the northern army.
At the commencement of the revolution, Colonel Burr, then about eighteen years of age, at the first sound of the trump of war (as if bred in the camp of the great Frederick, whose maxim was “to hold his army always in readiness to break a lance with, or throw a dart against, any assailant”), quit his professional studies, and rushed to the camp of General Washington, at Cambridge, as a volunteer from which he went with Colonel Arnold on his daring enterprise against Quebec, through the wilds of Canada (which vied with Hannibal’s march over the Alps), during which toilsome and hazardous march he attracted the attention and admiration of his commander so much, that he (Arnold) sent him alone to meet and hurry down General Montgomery’s army from Montreal to his assistance; and recommended him to that general, who appointed him an aid-de-camp, in which capacity he acted during the winter, till the fatal assault on Quebec, in which that gallant general, his aid McPherson, and Captain Cheeseman, commanding the forlorn hope, fell. He afterwards continued as aid to Arnold, the survivor in command.
Here I must begin to draw some of the outlines of his genius and valour, which, like those of the British immortal, Wolf, who, at the age of twenty-four, and only major of the 20th regiment, serving on the continent, gave such specimens of genius and talents as to evince his being destined for command.
At the perilous moment of Montgomery’s death, when dismay and consternation universally prevailed, and the column halted, he animated the troops, and made many efforts to lead them on; and stimulated them to enter the lower town; and might have succeeded, but for the positive orders of Colonel Donald Campbell, the commanding officer, for the troops to retreat. Had his plan been carried into effect, it might have saved Arnold’s division from capture, which had, after our retreat, to contend with all the British force instead of a part. On this occasion I commanded the first company in the first New-York regiment, at the head of Montgomery’s column, so that I speak from ocular demonstration.
The next campaign, 1776, Colonel Burr was appointed aid-de-camp to Major-general Putnam, second in command under General Washington at New-York; and from my knowledge of that general’s qualities and the colonel’s, I am very certain that the latter directed all the movements and operations of the former.
In January, 1777, the continental establishment for the war commenced. Then Colonel Burr was appointed by General Washington a lieutenant-colonel in Malcolm’s regiment, in which he continued to serve until April, 1779, when the ill state of his health obliged him to retire from active service, to the regret of General McDOUGALL, commanding the department, and that of the commander-in-chief, who offered to give him a furlough for any length of time, and to get permission from the British general in New-York for him to go to Bermuda for his health. This item will show his value in the estimation of Generals Washington and McDOUGALL.
During the campaign of 1777, Malcolm’s regiment was with the main army, and commanded by Lieutenant-colonel Burr. For discipline, order, and system, it was not surpassed by any in the service; and could his (the lieutenant-colonel’s) and Wolfe’s orderly-books be produced, they would be very similar in point of military policy and instructions, and fit models for all regiments.
This regiment was also but led at the Valley Forge in 1777 and winter of 1778, under General Washington, and composed part of his army at the battle of Monmouth on the 28th of June, 1778, and continued with it till the close of the campaign of that year, at which time it was placed in garrison at West Point by General Gates; but, upon General McDOUGALL’s assuming the command of the posts in the highlands in December, Malcolm’s, Spencer’s, and Patten’s regiments were together ordered to Haverstraw. The three colonels were permitted to go home for the winter on furlough, and Lieutenant-colonel Burr had the command of the whole brigade, at a very important advanced post.
At this period General McDOUGALL ordered a detachment of about three hundred troops, under the command of Lieutenant-colonel Littlefield, of the Massachusetts line, to guard the lines in Westchester county, then extending from Tarrytown to White Plains, and from thence to Mamaroneck or Sawpits, which last extension was guarded by Connecticut troops from Major-general Putnam’s division.
In this situation of affairs a very singular occurrence presented, viz., that neither Lieutenant-colonel Littlefield, nor any other of his grade, in the two entire brigades of Massachusetts troops composing the garrison of West Point, from which the lines were to be relieved, was competent, in the general’s estimation, to give security to the army above and the lines of those below; and, in consequence, he was compelled to call Colonel Burr from his station at Haverstraw to the more important command of the lines in Westchester, in which measure, unprecedented as it was, the officers acquiesced without a murmur, from a conviction of its expediency. At this time I was doing the duty of adjutant-general to General McDougall.
It was on this new and interesting theatre of war that the confidence and affections of the officers and soldiers (who now became permanent on the lines, instead of being relieved every two or three weeks as before), as well as of the inhabitants, all before unknown to Colonel Burr, were inspired with confidence by a system of consummate skill, astonishing vigilance, and extreme activity, which, in like manner, made such an impression on the enemy, that after an unsuccessful attack on one of his advanced posts, he never made any other attack on our lines during the winter.
His humanity, and constant regard to the security of the property and persons of the inhabitants from injury and insult, were not less conspicuous than his military skill, &c. No man was insulted or disturbed. The health of the troops was perfect. Not a desertion during the whole period of his command, nor a man made prisoner, although the colonel was constantly making prisoners.
A country, which for three years before had been a scene of robbery, cruelty, and murder, became at once the abode of security and peace. Though his powers were despotic, they were exercised only for the peace, the security, and the protection of the surrounding country and its inhabitants.
In the winter of 1779, the latter part of it, Major Hull, an excellent officer, then in the Massachusetts line, was sent down as second to Colonel Burr, who, after having become familiarized to his system, succeeded him for a short time in command, about the last of April, at which time Colonel Burr’s health would not permit him to continue in command; but the major was soon compelled to fall back many miles, so as to be within supporting distance of the army at the highlands.
The severity of the service, and the ardent and increasing activity with which he had devoted himself to his country’s cause, for more than four years, having materially impaired his health, he was compelled to leave the post and retire from active service. It was two years before he regained his health.
Major Hull has ever since borne uniformly the most honourable testimony of the exalted talents of his commander, by declaring his gratitude for being placed under an officer whose system of duty was different from that of all other commanders under whom he had served.
Having thus exhibited the colonel’s line of march, and his operations in service, I must now present him in contrast with his equals in rank, and his superiors in command.
In September, 1777, the enemy came out on both sides of the Hudson simultaneously, in considerable force, say from 2 to 3000 men. On the east side (at Peekskill) was a major-general of our army, with an effective force of about 2000 men. The enemy advanced, and our general retired without engaging them. Our barracks and storehouses, and the whole village of Peekskill, were sacked and burnt, and the country pillaged.
On the west side, at the mouth of the Clove, near Suffren’s, was Colonel Burr, commanding Malcolm’s regiment, about three hundred and fifty men. On the first alarm he marched to find the enemy, and on the same night attacked and took their picket-guard, rallied the country, and made such show of war, that the enemy retreated the next morning, leaving behind him the cattle, horses, and sheep he had plundered.
The year following, Lieutenant-colonel Thompson was sent to command on the same lines in Westchester by General Heath, and he was surprised at nine or ten o’clock in the day, and made prisoner, with a great part of his detachment.
Again, in the succeeding winter, Colonel Greene, of the Rhode Island line, with his own and another Rhode Island regiment, who was a very distinguished officer, and had with these two regiments, in the year 1777, defeated the Hessian grenadiers under Count Donop, at Red Banks, on the Delaware, who was mortally wounded and taken prisoner, commanded on the lines in Westchester; there receded to Pine’s bridge, and in this position Colonel Greene’s troops were also surprised after breakfast and dispersed, the colonel himself and Major Flagg killed, and many soldiers made prisoners, besides killed and wounded.
On the west side of the Hudson, in the year 1780, General Wayne, the hero of Stony Point, with a large command and field artillery, made an attack on a block-house nearly opposite to Dobbs’s ferry, defended by cowboys, and was repulsed with loss; whereas Colonel Burr burnt and destroyed one of a similar kind, in the winter of 1779, near Delancey’s mills, with a very few men, and without any loss on his part, besides capturing the garrison.
Here, my good friend commodore, I must drop the curtain till I see you in Albany, which will be on the first week in February, where I can and will convince you that he is the only man in America (that is, the United States) who is fit to be a lieutenant-general; and let you and I, and all the American people, look out for Mr. Madison’s lieutenant-general in contrast.
I am your friend,
RICHARD PLATT.
CHAPTER XII.
On retiring from the army, Colonel Burr visited his friends in New-Jersey and Connecticut. He had previously determined, as soon as his health would permit, to commence the study of law. During the four years he was in public service, his patrimony was greatly impaired. Towards his brethren in arms he had acted with liberality. Naturally of an improvident character, he adopted no means to preserve the property which he inherited. The cardinal vices of gaming and drinking he avoided. But he was licentious in the extreme, and regardless of consequences in the gratification of his desires. His extravagance was unrestrained when, in his opinion, necessary to the enjoyment of his pleasures. From the arms of his nurse until he had numbered fourscore years, he was perpetually the dupe of the artful and the selfish.
Colonel Burr was about five feet six inches in height. He was well formed, and erect in his attitude. In all his movements there was a military air. Although of small stature, yet there was about him a loftiness of mien that could not pass unnoticed by a stranger. His deportment was polished and courtly. His features were regular, and generally considered handsome. His eye was jet black, with a brilliancy never surpassed. The appropriate civilities of the drawing-room were performed with a grace almost peculiar to himself. His whole manner was inconceivably fascinating. As a gentleman, this was his great theatre. He acted upon the principle that the female was the weaker sex, and that they were all susceptible of flattery. His great art consisted in adopting it to the grade of intellect he addressed. In this respect he was singularly fortunate as well as adroit. In matters of gallantry he was excessively vain. This vanity sometimes rendered him ridiculous in the eyes of his best friends, and often enabled the most worthless and unprincipled to take advantage of his credulity.
Such traits of character would appear to be incompatible with an elevated and towering mind; yet they usually influenced, and frequently controlled, one of the greatest and most extraordinary men of the age. A volume of anecdotes might be related as evidence of Colonel Burr’s quickness of perception and tact at reply, when an ill-judged or thoughtless expression was addressed by him to a lady. One is sufficient for illustration.
After his return from Europe, in 1812, he met a maiden lady in Broadway somewhat advanced in life. He had not seen her for many years. As she passed him, she exclaimed to a gentleman on whose arm she was resting, “Colonel Burr!” Hearing his name mentioned, he suddenly stopped and looked her in the face. “Colonel,” said she, “you do not recollect me.”
“I do not, madam,” was the reply.
“It is Miss K., sir.”
“What!” said he, “Miss K. _yet_!”
The lady, somewhat piqued, reiterated, “Yes, sir, Miss K. _yet_!”
Feeling the delicacy of his situation, and the unfortunate error he had committed, he gently took her hand, and emphatically remarked, “Well, madam, then I venture to assert _that it is not the fault of my sex_.”
On Burr’s being appointed, in 1777, a lieutenant-colonel in the army, he joined his regiment, then stationed at Ramapoa, in New-Jersey. At Paramus, not far distant, resided Mrs. Prevost, the wife of Colonel Prevost, of the British army. She was an accomplished and intelligent lady. Her husband was with his regiment in the West Indies, where he died early in the revolutionary war. She had a sister residing with her. It was her son, the Hon. John B. Prevost, who in 1802 was recorder of the city of New-York, and subsequently district judge of the United States Court for the district of Louisiana. The house of Mrs. Prevost was the resort of the most accomplished officers in the American army when they were in the vicinity of it. She was highly respected by her neighbours, and visited by the most genteel people of the surrounding country. Her situation was one of great delicacy and constant apprehension.
The wife of a British officer, and connected with the adherents of the crown, naturally became an object of political suspicion, notwithstanding great circumspection on her part. Under such circumstances, a strong sympathy was excited in her behalf. Yet there were those among the Whigs who were inclined to enforce the laws of the state against her, whereby she would be compelled to withdraw within the lines of the enemy. In this family Colonel Burr became intimate in 1777, and in 1782 married the widow Prevost.
JAMES MONROE TO MRS. PREVOST. [1]
Philadelphia, November 8th, 1778.
A young lady who either is, or pretends to be, in love, is, you know, my dear Mrs. Prevost, the most unreasonable creature in existence. If she looks a smile or a frown, which does not immediately give or deprive you of happiness (at least to appearance), your company soon becomes very insipid. Each feature has its beauty, and each attitude the graces, or you have no judgment. But if you are so stupidly insensible of her charms as to deprive your tongue and eyes of every expression of admiration, and not only to be silent respecting her, but devote them to an absent object, she cannot receive a higher insult; nor would she, if not restrained by politeness, refrain from open resentment.
Upon this principle I think I stand excused for not writing from B. Ridge. I proposed it, however; and, after meeting with opposition in —–, to obtain her point, she promised to visit the little “Hermitage,” [2] and make my excuse herself. I took occasion to turn the conversation to a different object, and plead for permission to go to France. I gave up in one instance, and she certainly ought in the other. But writing a letter and going to France are very different, you will perhaps say. She objected to it, and all the arguments which a fond, delicate, unmarried lady could use, she did not fail to produce against it. I plead the advantage I should derive from it. The personal improvement, the connexions I should make. I told her she was not the only one on whom fortune did not smile in every instance. I produced examples from her own acquaintance, and represented their situation in terms which sensibly affected both herself and Lady C—-. I painted a lady full of affection, of tenderness, and sensibility, separated from her husband, for a series of time, by the cruelty of the war–her uncertainty respecting his health; the pain and anxiety which must naturally arise from it. I represented, in the most pathetic terms, the disquietudes which, from the nature of her connexion, might possibly intrude on her domestic retreat. I then raised to her view fortitude under distress; cheerfullness, life, and gayety, in the midst of affliction.
I hope you will forgive me, my dear little friend, if I produced you to give life to the image. The instance, she owned, was applicable. She felt for you from her heart, and she has a heart capable of feeling. She wished not a misfortune similar to yours; but, if I was resolved to make it so, she would strive to imitate your example. I have now permission to go where I please, but you must not forget her. She and Lady C—- promise to come to the Hermitage to spend a week or two. Encourage her, and represent the advantage I shall gain from travel. But why should I desire you to do what I know your own heart will dictate? for a heart so capable of friendship feels its own pain alleviated by alleviating that of another.
But do not suppose that my attention is only taken up with my own affairs. I am too much attached ever to forget the Hermitage. Mrs. Duvall, I hope, is recovering; and Kitty’s indisposition is that of my nearest relation. Mrs. de Visme has delicate nerves. Tell me her children are well, and I know she has a flow of spirits, for her health depends entirely on theirs.
I was unfortunate in not being able to meet with the governor. He was neither at Elizabethtown, B. Ridge, Princeton, nor Trenton. I have consulted with several members of Congress on the occasion. They own the injustice, but cannot interfere. The laws of each state must govern itself. They cannot conceive the possibility of its taking place. General Lee says it must not take place; and if he was an absolute monarch, he would issue an order to prevent it.
I am introduced to the gentleman I wished by General Lee in a very particular manner. I cannot determine with certainty what I shall do till my arrival in Virginia.
Make my compliments to Mrs. and Miss De Visme, and believe me, with the sincerest friendship,
Yours,
JAMES MONROE
Mr. Peter De Visme, the brother of Mrs. Prevost, was captured at sea, and made prisoner of war. As she was personally acquainted with General Washington, she solicited his influence to promote his exchange, to which the general replied:–
Headquarters, Middlebrook, 19th May, 1779.
MADAM,
It is much to be regretted that the pleasure of obeying the first emotions in favour of misfortune is not always in our power. I should be happy could I consider myself at liberty to comply with your request in the case of your brother, Mr. Peter De Visme. But, as I have heretofore taken no direction in the disposal of marine prisoners, I cannot, with propriety, interfere on the present occasion, however great the satisfaction I should feel in obliging where you are interested. Your good sense will perceive this, and find a sufficient excuse in the delicacy of my situation.
I have the honour to be, madam,
Your obedient servant,
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
FROM WILLIAM PATTERSON.
Morristown, 29th September, 1779.
DEAR BURR,
About four weeks ago I received a letter from you of the 8th of August, and, a week after, another of the 23d. They came by the way of Moorestown, from which to Rariton, where I reside. The conveyance is easy and safe. I cannot point out any mode of sending your letters better than that which you have adopted.
I was pleased extremely to hear from you, and, indeed, was quite disappointed in not hearing from you sooner. I was for a time in expectation that you would return into Jersey, as the scene of military operations was directed to your part of the world, and would unavoidably drive you from your study and repose. Military operations are so fluctuating and uncertain as to render it exceedingly difficult to fix upon a retreat which may not be broken in upon in the course of a campaign. New-Haven bid fair to be the seat of calmness and serenity, of course well suited for a studious and contemplative mind, and therefore made choice of as the place of your abode. New-Haven, however, partook of the common calamity; and, in the evolution of human events, from a place of safety and repose, was turned into a place of confusion and war.
You are not contented, my dear Burr, and why are you not? You sigh for New-Jersey, and why do you not return? It is true we are continually broken in upon by the sons of tumult and war. Our situation is such that the one army or the other is almost constantly with us, and yet we rub along with tolerable order, spirit, and content. Oh! that the days of peace would once more return, that we might follow what business, partake of what amusements, and think and live as we please. As to myself, I am, my dear Burr, one of the happiest of men. The office I hold calls me too frequently, and detains me too long, from home, otherwise I should enjoy happiness as full and high as this world can afford. It is, as you express it, “serene, rural, and sentimental;” and such, one day, you will _feel_.
“You see no company–you partake of no amusements–you are always grave.” Such, too, has been the life that I have lived for months and years. I cannot say that it is an unpleasing one. I avoided company; indeed, I do so still, unless it be the company of chosen friends. I have been ever fond of my fireside and study–ever fond of calling up some absent friend, and of living over, in idea, past times of sentimental pleasure. Fancy steps in to my aid, colours the picture, and makes it delightful indeed. You are in the very frame of mind I wish you to be; may it continue.
I cannot tell you what has become of Mrs. Prevost’s affairs. About two months ago I received a very polite letter from her. She was apprehensive that the commissioners would proceed. It seems they threatened to go on. I wrote them on the subject, but I have not heard the event. I am at this place, on my way to a superior court in Bergen. If possible, I shall wait on the good gentlewoman. At Bergen I shall inquire into the state of the matter. It will, indeed, turn up of course. You shall soon hear from me again. Adieu. May health and happiness await you
WILLIAM PATERSON.
The precarious and unsettled state of Colonel Burr’s health, in the autumn of 1779 and the beginning of 1780, was such that he was unable to adopt and adhere to any regular system of study. Among his most intimate personal friends was Colonel Robert Troup. He, too, had determined to retire from public service, and was anxious to study in the same office with Burr. His letters cast much light on their pursuits at the time they were written.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Philadelphia, 16th January, 1780.
My dear Friend,
Watkins was kind enough to deliver me yours of the 8th of December, written, I presume, at Paramus. I almost envy you the happiness you have enjoyed. From the first moment of my acquaintance with Mrs. Prevost and her sister, I conceived an admiration for them both, which is much increased by the opinion you entertain of them. How, then, am I flattered by their polite manner of mentioning my name. To whom am I indebted but to you, my friend, for this unmerited favour? Surely these ladies saw nothing in me at Governor Livingston’s which was worthy of remembrance, unless a terrible noise, which some people call laughter, could be worth remembering. With the best intention, therefore, to serve me, you have done me an injury, Aaron. I shall be afraid to see our favourites in the spring, because I shall fall infinitely short of their ideas of cleverness. Pray, do you recollect the opinion which Judge Candour solemnly pronounced upon us both, in a court of reason held at the Indian King? Why, then, will you expose my weakness by ascribing to me imaginary excellences? If you persist in such cruel conduct, sir, I will make you feel the weight of my resentment, by publishing to the world the purity of my esteem for your public and private character.
I am happy to find our plan of studying together appears more and more rational to you. It really does to me, and I hope we shall follow it. Since you left Philadelphia, some circumstances have turned up which render my office so disagreeable to me that I am determined to resign. _Vous pouvez compter sur moi_. Besides the disgust I have taken, I am led to it by ambition, which has a small share of influence over me as well as you.
But I am desirous of a change in our plan, which I request you to think of seriously. I am inclined to believe it would be best for us to study the law with Mr. Stockton, at Princeton. This, I know, will surprise you; but your surprise will be lessened when you hear my reasons.
The practice of Connecticut differs so materially from the practice of New-York and New-Jersey, that we should lose time by being with Mr. Osmer. For, after being eighteen months or two years with him, it would be necessary to continue nearly the same time in another office, to get a competent knowledge of the practice. This is a matter of consequence, especially as it is my object to qualify myself for practice as soon as possible.
I have the highest opinion of Mr. Osmer, and, did I intend to follow the law in Connecticut, there is no man I would sooner study with. I believe he would ground us well in the knowledge of the dead-letter of the law; but I wish to have the practice and the theory accompanying each other. Mr. Stockton has been polite enough to make me an offer, and has promised to spare no pains to instruct me. He would be glad to instruct you likewise; for I have heard him express himself of you in the most friendly manner. I propose to lodge at some substantial farmer’s house, about a mile from the main road, and have made a solemn league and covenant with my own mind to seclude myself from the pleasures of the world. This I know I can do. And have you not as much philosophy as I have?
It is true, Mr. Stockton has unmarried daughters, and there is a number of genteel families in and near Princeton. But why should we connect ourselves with any of them, so as to interrupt our studies? They will be entitled to a civil bow from us whenever we meet them; and, if they expect more, they will be disappointed. Indeed, l shall take care to inform them of my intentions, and if they afterwards complain of my want of politeness in not visiting them, it will give me little uneasiness.
I entreat you, my dearest and best friend, to reflect on this matter, and favour me with your answer without a moment’s loss of time. My happiness, and my improvement in the law, depend entirely upon pursuing my studies with you. The change I now propose is conformable to the sentiments and wishes of all my friends, particularly of Chancellor Livingston, who is certainly a judge.
I forgot to mention that Mr. Stockton is universally allowed to be one of the best speakers we ever had in this part of the continent, and it will therefore be in his power to teach us the eloquence of the bar, which may be considered as a capital advantage.
I have communicated my sentiments on this subject more fully to our mutual friend, Colonel Wadsworth, who will deliver you this letter, than I have to you in writing. He will explain them to you, and, I am sure, will give you his own with the utmost candour and sincerity. I have left several messages at the house Dr. —– lodges when he is in town; but cannot get an answer, and see little prospect of getting your money unless you write him a dunning letter. I shall leave one for him to-morrow, and will endeavour to have the affair settled this week.
I write this at my lodgings, where I have not a single newspaper. Colonel Wadsworth will leave town in the course of an hour; and, if I can find time, I will go to the office and collect all I can find. There have been none, however, since you left town, which are worth reading. Wadsworth will tell you all the news I have, which is, that old Roger Sherman is metamorphosed, by some strange magical power, into _a very honest man_.
God bless you, and may Dom. Tetard soon have the pleasure of drinking a glass of wine with us both, in his house at Kingsbridge. I mean, after the British gentry have left it. I should have written to you before, but I have been waiting these three weeks past for Colonel Wadsworth to leave Philadelphia. He will inform you of the cursed slavish life I lead at the treasury office. I am obliged to attend it even on Saturday nights, which places me below the level of a negro in point of liberty. Pray present my best respects to Tetard, and assure him of my wishes to serve him at all times, and on all occasions.
Yours,
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Philadelphia, February 14th, 1780.
My Dear Burr,
I have resigned my office, and am now preparing to leave Philadelphia to go to Princeton, agreeable to the plan in my letter by Colonel Wadsworth. This week I expect to finish a little private business I have on hand, and, by the latter end of the next, to be settled in a regular course of study with Mr. Stockton. What think you of this alteration in the plan we settled? Can you leave Mr. Osmer without injury? I assure you, the only motive I have to prefer Stockton is a desire to qualify myself for practice as soon as possible. All my friends are against my studying in Connecticut, for the reason mentioned in my last; and they all recommend Stockton to me. I am therefore determined to study with him.
I am very much afraid that Princeton will be disagreeable to you on many accounts, and particularly on account of the number of acquaintances you have in and near it. This is a misfortune, to be sure; but do as I shall, _neglect them all_; it is matter of perfect indifference to me whether I affront them or not. My object is to study with the closest attention. I must do it. I have no other resource.
Permit me to declare, like a sincere friend, that my happiness is so intimately connected with yours, that I shall be chagrined to an extreme if you find it inconvenient to join me. We could be useful to each other. Besides facilitating each other’s progress in the law, we could improve ourselves in writing and speaking. In one word–I am confident I should acquire as much knowledge in three years with you as in six years without you. I never was more serious. Come, therefore, immediately, and bring Mr. Tetard with you to perfect us in the French language, which I have paid little attention to since I wrote you, and indeed since you left me.
Pray why have you neglected to answer my letter by Colonel Wadsworth? I suspect something extraordinary is the matter with you. Or are you so angry as not to think I merit an answer? Whatever your reason was, let me request you to favour me with an answer to this by the first opportunity. If it is sent under cover to Mr. Stockton, it will perhaps reach me sooner.
It is reported, and pretty general believed, that Sir Henry Clinton, with the fleet that came from New-York about six weeks ago, has touched at Georgia; taken Prevost’s troops with him, and gone either to St. Augustine or the Havannah. This is very important news, if true; but it seems to wait confirmation.
Your unalterable friend,
ROBERT TROUP.
TO WILLIAM PATERSON.
Middletown, February 16th, 1780.
Your friendly letter of September has at length found its way to me. I am once more a recluse. It accords with my feelings. I should doubtless be happier if I enjoyed perfect health and the society of a friend _like you_; but why do I say like you? No likeness could compensate for the absence of the original.
I am something at a loss how to regulate my motions for the coming summer. The prospect of peace is still distant. It is an object of importance with me to be not only secure from alarms, but remote from the noise of war. My present situation promises at least those advantages. Perhaps yours does equally. Events only can determine.
My health, which was till of late very promising, seems to decline a little. This circumstance will oblige me to alter my course of life. I shall be in your state in May or June, perhaps sooner. If you have a prospect of tranquillity, I Shall have no thought of returning. Colonel Troup, a worthy, sensible young fellow, and a particular friend of mine, wishes to know where I shall prosecute my studies, and is determined, he says, to be my companion. A gentleman who has been long eminent at your bar, and whom we both know perfectly well, had made Troup some polite offers of his service as an instructor. He was pleased with the scheme, and as he knew the gentleman was professedly my friend, urged me to put myself also under his tuition. I mentioned to him in a late letter the objections which had been decisive with me, and I fancy he will view them in the same light. He is the companion I would wish in my studies. He is a better antidote for the spleen than a ton of drugs. I am often a little inclined to _hypo_.
My best respects attend Mrs. Paterson. Speak of her in your letters. I would not feel indifferent to one so near to you, even if no personal acquaintance had confirmed my esteem. You would have heard from me sooner, but no post has rode this fortnight. I have been pursuing the track you marked out for me, though not with the ardour I could wish. My health will bear no imposition. I am obliged to eat, drink, sleep, and study, as it directs. No such restraint interrupts your bliss. May you feel no bonds but those of love and friendship–no rules but those that lead to happiness. Adieu.
Yours sincerely,
A. BURR.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Philadelphia, 29th February, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
Your favours of the 1st and 5th inst. came to hand last night, and are both before me. I am very much indebted to you for your candour in stating the objections which are against Princeton, as well as Mr. Stockton. I had anticipated them all. They are far from being groundless. But my situation was peculiar when I determined to live with Mr. Stockton. In my last a principle of delicacy induced me to be more reserved than is consistent with the sincerity of our affection for each other. Forgive my criminal reserve. I will be plain with you now.
By a strange kind of contracted system, which pervades all the civil establishments of Congress, I was reduced to the necessity of resigning my office at least six weeks sooner than I expected. Though I laboured both day and night, with as much drudgery as a negro on a plantation in the West Indies, the board of treasury did not think themselves authorized to report a warrant in my favour for money to answer the common demands of living. They confined me to my salary of _ten thousand dollars_ [3] per annum. Finding that I had not the most distant prospect of getting a decent support while I continued in office, and that I was obliged to pay four or five thousand dollars out of my own private purse for _necessaries, I cursed and quit them_ the beginning of this month.
Being thus out of office, I thought it would be prudent to settle myself at the law without a moment’s delay, both on account of the heavy expense of living in this city, and the loss of time, which is of the greatest consequence to me. I did not forget Mr. Paterson when I gave the preference to Mr. Stockton. The private character of the former is infinitely superior to that of the latter, and so is his public. But he is immersed in such an ocean of business, that I imagined it would be out of his power to bestow all the time and pains on our improvement we would wish. Besides, I was afraid of being more confined to the drudgery of copying in his office than I ought. This is inseparable from an office in which there is a good deal done, however well disposed a lawyer may be to promote the interest of his clerk. You observe that his present office expires next summer. I grant it. Yet he may be chosen attorney-general again; and this I believe will be the case, for there is not a man of sufficient abilities in the state, except him and Morris, to whom the people would give the office. Morris, I fancy, will not accept it if offered to him, as he has lately resigned his seat on the bench; and I will venture to predict that Paterson will be continued, though against his inclination.
Upon the whole, then, I feel extreme regret in telling you that I must go and sit down at Princeton the latter end of this week at farthest. The die is cast. My honour forbids me to act contrary to the engagement I have entered into with Mr. Stockton. Had I received your kind letter before my _absolute determination_, I should certainly have followed your advice. Our plan, therefore, will be frustrated. Painful the reflection! You would hurt me exceedingly if you came to live at Princeton, and subjected yourself to the inconveniences you mention, merely to please me.
I am glad to hear your health is mending, and should be still more happy if it was unnecessary to make use of the mineral springs in the Clove. I have always suspected that the law would disagree with your delicate constitution. It requires the most intense study. Your ambition to excel will stimulate you to the closest application, and I dread the effects it may produce. You should therefore be cautions. Health is a source of more substantial pleasure than the most cultivated understanding.
A few days ago Dr. Edwards left a bundle of bills, amounting, as he says, to one thousand pounds, at Dr, Rush’s for me, to be sent to you. I have not yet counted it, but I suppose it is right. To-day or to-morrow I shall leave a receipt for it at Dr. Rash’s. I believe I shall presume so far upon your friendship as to borrow a part of it for my own use for about a fortnight. I am much disappointed in receiving a small sum to pay my debts in town. I sold two thousand dollars in certificates to Mr. Duer just before he left town, and he gave me an order upon a lady for the money. I find she will not be able to pay it for some time hence, and I am so pressed for cash that I have written to Duer, at Baskenridge, for the certificates or money immediately. I expect an answer every moment; and, till I receive it, shall consider part of yours as my own. The remainder I shall transmit you by the first safe conveyance. I think it would be wrong to trust the post with it.
I thank you sincerely for your offer of a horse. The present state of my finances is such that I cannot afford to keep one. If I could it might detach me from my studies. Beware of temptation, saith the Scripture, and so saith my interest.
I suppose you have read the king’s speech. He makes no mention of his rebellious subjects in America, or of any allies, and is resolved to prosecute the war. The debates in the House of Lords, as well as Commons, on the motion for an address of thanks, were very warm. Lord North, in one of his speeches, makes no scruple of declaring that they have no allies to assist them. That they can get none. That the combined fleets have a _decided superiority_; and that it would have been highly dangerous for the English fleet to have fought them last fall. The bills on Spain and Holland sell very fast. They will all be disposed of in a very short time. There are large arrivals in Virginia and Maryland; and there are several vessels below, waiting for the river to be cleared of ice, which will be in three or four days. Poor _continental_ is still going down hill. _Fifty-eight_ was refused yesterday; and I have no doubt it will be _seventy_ for _one_ before ten days hence. Adieu. As long as you are Aaron Burr, I will be
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM MAJOR R. ALDEN.
I intended to have wrote you a letter in answer to your last, but neither head or heart will enable me at present. Although I am answerable for my conduct, yet I cannot govern the animal fluids. I am so much of a _lunatic thermometer_, that both _moon_ and _atmosphere_ very much influence my _aerial_ constitution. My brain is subject to such changes, and so much affected by _external_ objects, that I may be properly compared to a _windmill_. You may make the similitudes as you please. I have not a single sentiment in my head, or feeling in my heart, that would pay for expressing. At any rate, my mill will not grind. What is all this says my friend Aaron? The pleasure I enjoyed yesterday in feasting in good company, and in a variety of other agreeables, at the nuptial anniversary of our dear and happy friends, Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus Burr, has deprived me of that common share of sensibility which is generally distributed through the days of the year, and rather destroyed the equilibrium. I set out for camp the last of this week; may I expect letters from my friend? Be assured of my warmest friendship, and make me happy by the like assurance, as it will afford the sincerest pleasure to,
Yours, with affection,
R. ALDEN.
FROM WILLIAM PATERSON.
Rariton, April 14th, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
I take the earliest opportunity of acknowledging the receipt of your _dateless_ letter, and returning you my best thanks for it. Mr. and Mrs. Reeve [4] have been so kind as to tarry a night with me. We endeavoured to prevail upon them to pass a few days with us, and should have been happy if we could have succeeded. This letter goes with them. That circumstance cannot fail, of making it still more welcome to your honest and. benevolent heart.
I wrote you the latter end of January from the Hermitage, and intrusted the letter to Mrs. Prevost. It was a mere scrawl. This is of the same cast. However, I promise, the very first leisure hour, to devote it entirely to you in the letter way. Although I do not write frequently to you, yet, believe me, I think frequently of you. Oh, Burr! may you enjoy health, and be completely happy; as much so as I am–more I cannot wish you. Nor will you be able to attain high felicity until you experience such a union as I do. Mrs. Paterson is in tolerable health, and gives you her best respects. I wish her safely through the month of May, and then I shall be still more happy.
When you come to Jersey I shall certainly see you. If I do not, it will be treason against our friendship.
Peace is distant. There is no prospect of it in the present year. Nor do I think that Britain will come to terms while she fancies herself superior on the ocean. The war, however, goes southward, and there is some hope that we shall be more in quiet this year than we have been since the commencement of hostilities. On the opening of the campaign we shall be able to judge better. Adieu.
WILLIAM PATERSON.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Princeton, April 27th, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
I wrote to you yesterday, and happened to put the letter into the postoffice a little after the post had gone. In that letter I requested you to come here as soon as possible, for it was highly probable that I should leave Princeton entirely, and determine to follow our original plan. The event has confirmed my conjecture. I came here from General Morris’s yesterday, and exerted all the influence I was master of to get new lodgings, but could not, without lodging in the town, which would be disagreeable to me on many accounts. I have now given over all thoughts of staying here; and, having an excellent pretext for changing my ground, I shall write to Mr. Stockton, who is still in Philadelphia, and acquaint him with my intentions of going away. Nothing is therefore wanting but yourself, with a horse and chair, to make me completely happy. I wish to God I could push off eastward immediately, but I cannot. I have no horse, neither is it practicable to borrow or hire one. I must, then, wait for you; and I request you, in the most pressing terms, to lose not a moment’s time in coming for me at General Morris’s, about six miles from this, near Colonel Van Dyke’s mill, on the road to Somerset, where I shall wait impatiently for you.
I am extremely uneasy lest this letter should reach you after you have left home, and begun your journey northward. In that case I shall be very unfortunate; and, to prevent too great a delay, I write to Mr. Reeves at Litchfield, and enclose him a letter for you, and desire him to forward it to you, wherever you are, with all expedition. I shall likewise enclose another for you to Mrs. Prevost, who will be kind enough to give it to you the moment you arrive there.
If we once get together, I hope we shall not be soon parted. It would afford me the greatest satisfaction to live with you during life. God grant our meeting may be soon. You have my best and fervent wishes for the recovery of your health, and every other happiness. Adieu.
ROBERT TROUP.
TO COLONEL TROUP.
Fairfield, 15th May, 1780.
MY DEAR BOB,
I wrote you from this place the 12th inst. This follows close upon it, that I may rest assured of your having heard from me.
I go to-morrow to Middletown, from whence I shall hasten my departure as much as possible. No trifling concerns should command me a moment; but business of importance, and some embarrassments too serious to be laughed out of the way, will, I fear, detain me this month. But the month is already gone before you can receive this. I hope your philosophy will not have forsaken you. Far from you be gloom and despondency. Attune your organs to the genuine ha! ha! ‘Tis to me the music of the spheres; the sovereign specific that shall disgrace the physician’s art, and baffle the virulence of malady. Hold yourself aloof from all engagements, even of the _heart_. We will deliberate unbiased, that we may decide with wisdom. I form no decision on the subject of our studies till I see you.
I write from the house of our friend Thaddeus, in a world of company, who are constantly interrupting me with impertinent questions. Your summons came unexpected, and found me unprepared. Nevertheless, my assiduity shall convince you that you may command
A. BURR.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
At General Morris’s, near Princeton, 16th May, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
I wrote you, about three weeks ago, a very pressing letter, and requested you to come for me here as soon as possible. My anxiety to see you is extreme, and, lest my letter should have miscarried, I cannot help troubling you with another. Every thing, my dear Burr, has succeeded to my wishes. I have left Mr. Stockton upon the most friendly terms imaginable, and I am still at General Morris’s to avoid expense, but am so situated that I cannot study. I assure you, my future prosperity and happiness in life depends, in a greater measure than you may imagine, on my living and studying with you; and the sooner we get seated in some retired place, where we may live cheaply and study without interruption, the better. I know myself–I think I know you perfectly. I am more deceived than ever I was if we do not live happily together, and improve beyond our most sanguine expectations. Delay not, therefore, a single moment, my dear Burr, but come for me yourself. A horse or a chair without you will be unwelcome. I want to consult you about several matters of importance to me before I leave this state. I say leave this state, for our original plan of studying with Mr. Osmer appears the most rational to me on many accounts.
I am so much attached to you, my dear Burr, and feel myself so much interested in every thing which concerns you, that I believe, and hope sincerely, it will be many years before we separate if we can once sit down together. As long as my slender fortune will permit me to live without business, we will, if you find it agreeable, enjoy the pleasures of retirement. And when we enter on the theatre of the world, why not act our parts together? Heaven grant that we may. I repeat it again, my dearest friend, lose not a moment’s time in coming for me. It is painful to trespass so long upon General Morris’s bounty, though he be my friend, and I have not any means of stirring an inch from him unless I walk. For fear you should not be at Middletown, I shall enclose a copy of this letter to Mr. Reeves, and request him to forward it to you immediately if you should not be with him.
With what pleasure did I receive yours of the 24th ult., at Princeton, the other day, when I went to pay Mr. Stockton a visit after his return from Philadelphia. I cordially congratulate you on the improvement of your health by rash experiments. May it be as well established as my own, which is perfectly capable of the closest application. But I was not a little mortified to find you say nothing about your intention to ride to Jersey. Let me entreat you once more to set off as soon as possible. Every moment is precious, and ought to be employed to advantage. I shall wait for you with the greatest impatience; and, in the meantime, I am, what I always wish to be,
Your affectionate and sincere friend,
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Society-Hall, General Morris’s, 23d May, 1780.
MY DEAR AARON,
My patience is almost exhausted. I have been waiting for you this month past. Here I am, a pensioner upon the bounty of my good friend General Morris, and am likely to continue so, unless you are kind enough to come and carry me away. This is the fifth or sixth letter I have written you on the subject. What can be the reason of the great delay in forwarding letters by the post? Your last was above a fortnight old before it got to Princeton; and, upon inquiry, Daddy Plumb informs me the riders are ordered to ride _forty miles_ a day during the season. Must I attribute it to the fatality which has already separated us, and, I fear, is determined to put an eternal bar to our junction? Such an event would blast all my hopes of future happiness. My dear Aaron, I want words to express my pleasure in anticipating the satisfaction of retiring from the cares of the world with you, and living in all the simple elegance of ancient philosophers. We should make a rapid improvement in every branch of useful literature; and when we came to act our parts on the theatre of the world, we might excite admiration, and, what would be infinitely more pleasing to us, we should be better men and better citizens.
After Mr. Stockton returned from Philadelphia, I communicated to him my situation and my intentions. He approved of my determination to go away, and gave me some advice, which you shall know when you see me. Thus I have left Mr. Stockton without causing the least uneasiness, and I am now ready to enter upon our old plan, which appears the most consistent with our present views. As I said in all my letters to you on the subject, I am here from a principle of economy; but it is disagreeable to stay so long as a visitor, and I am therefore obliged to request you to alter your intention about coming here, and set off the moment you receive this. I have no horse, and depend entirely upon you. Besides the time we lose by postponing our settlement, I have a matter of great importance to us both to communicate to you, that has no connexion with our studying, and which makes it necessary for me to see you immediately.
Poor Mr. Stockton is incurable. He cannot survive the summer.
Yours,
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Baskenridge, June 27th, 1786.
MY DEAR AARON,
After a very disagreeable ride indeed, I came here the day before yesterday in the afternoon; and yesterday morning, just as I was going to mount my horse, I was seized with a violent fever, which lasted till sunset. This morning I feel much better, though I am exceedingly weak. In a few minutes I shall take an emetic; after which I suppose the bark will be necessary. The fever seems to be of the intermittent kind, and, I think, is occasioned principally by riding in the hot sun. I am so agreeably situated here, that I shall stay till I recover, which I hope will be in three or four days. The family are very polite and attentive to me, and Dr. Cutting, who quarters in the neighbourhood, is both my physician and apothecary.
The Miss Livingstons have inquired in a very friendly manner about you, and expect you will wait upon them when you pass this way. Since I have been here, I have had an opportunity of removing entirely the suspicion they had of your courting Miss De Visme. [5] They believe nothing of it now, and attribute your visits at Paramus to motives of friendship for Mrs. Prevost and the family.
Wherever I am, and can with propriety, you may be assured I shall represent this matter in its true light.
I have obtained a few particulars of —–, which I was before unacquainted with, and which I cannot forbear communicating. He is the son of the vice-president of Pennsylvania, who I always understood in Philadelphia was a respectable merchant, and I believe is worth a moderate fortune, though I am not certain. His family was not ranked in the genteeler class before the war; but at present may be called fashionable, or _a la mode_. The girls here think him handsome, genteel, and sensible, and say positively he is no longer engaged to Miss Shippen. He has frequently spoken to them in raptures, latterly of Miss De Visme, and once declared he was half in love with her. I have taken care to touch this string with the greatest delicacy.
How is your health? Better or worse? Pray neglect no opportunity of writing to me. Present my most respectful compliments to Mrs. Prevost and the family, and also the ladies on the hill.
Miss Susan Governor Livingston desires her compliments to you and the two families. So do Susan and Eliza Baskenridge.
Yours affectionately,
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM PETER COLT. [6]
Weathersfield, 7th July, 1780.
MY DEAR SIR,
Will you allow me that appellation, who have so long neglected to inform you of the situation of your affairs left in my hands? But figure to yourself the thousand embarrassments that have attended me in conducting my public concerns _towards a close_, and you will be led to put a more favourable construction on my conduct than I should otherwise expect.
My last informed you of the loss of the _Hawk_, being chased on shore the back side of Long Island. It was a few days after she went out on her last cruise, and before she had any success. Of course, about L20,000, the amount of her last outfits, were thrown away. I fear this will make her die in debt. Though all her goods are either sold or divided, yet her accounts are not settled. I wish I could see a tolerable prospect of their being speedily closed. But the agents are embarrassed. As soon as I can get her accounts, will inform you of the state of this unlucky adventure. There is on hand some clothing, some duck, and rigging, out of which I hope to raise hard money. What shall I do with the other articles, a small parcel of glassware and rum, and the money arising from the sales of the vessel’s sea-coat, &c.? I am advised to sell every thing for continental money, at the present going prices, and exchange it for hard. What is the exchange with you? With us it is from sixty to seventy for one. Let me know what I am to do with your money when I get it into my hands. I have not settled any of your accounts but Stanley’s.
Your friends are generally well, and wish to hear from you. Miss H—– has been quite unwell since you left us, as she tells me she hears you are. You will not be vain when I add, she has more than once lamented _your ill state of health_, and expressed some fears that it was not growing better. The Sallys beg me to make their best wishes for your health and happiness acceptable to you. Shall I add, their love also?
Friend Wadsworth has engaged in the supplies for the French navy and troops. I think it will keep him employed, and much to his advantage.
Yours sincerely,
PETER COLT.
FROM PETER COLT.
Weathersfield, July 16th, 1780.
DEAR SIR,
I have to acknowledge the receipt of your polite and friendly letter of the 1st inst. My little family would have been too much elated with your attention to them had you not dashed the pleasure with the account of your ill state of health. Pray be more attentive to the recovery of it, even should it interfere with your study of the law. Let your diet and exercise be simple and regular; directed by experience. The former not too low. It is a good old maxim–be religious, but not superstitious. So respecting health, be exactly attentive, but not whimsical. Excuse the term, for invalids are but too apt to be governed by whim rather than reason and experience.
Enclosed you have an account current with the agents of the Hawk. Indeed, take it altogether, it is but a poor adventure. I shall endeavour the settlement of your account with Friend —–, and remit you. In the meantime, it will not be amiss to send me an account of money advanced to him.
As to news, must refer you to the newspapers, where you will get a large supply. I wish _our printers_ did not deal so much in the marvellous. It is in vain for them to attempt copying Rivington. [7] They had better stick to the truth.
Yours, &c.,
PETER COLT.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Rariton, July 18th, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
Mr. Paterson went to Brunswick court this morning. The few lines by Dr. Brown are the first I have had from you since I left Paramus; where the other letters you refer to stay, I know not.
I am charmed with my present situation in every respect. It could not be more agreeable to my wishes. I shall have reason to thank you, as long as I live, for my change. The man I lodge with is an able farmer–has a large house–is fond of me, and is possessed of every thing a reasonable person could expect or wish for. I study attentively, and have no interruption whatever. There is an agreeable neighbourhood in this part of the country, and, when I choose, I can unbend myself in very genteel company.
I am reading Wood at present. I have almost done with his 4th chapter, and am looking over his chapter on courts. I confine my whole attention to the practice, for reasons I will tell you when we meet. I am translating Burlamaqui’s Politic Law. Reading Robertson’s Charles V., Dalrymple on Feudal Property, and Swift’s Works. The morning I devote to the law. I am up sometimes before, generally at sunrise. From two to half after three in the afternoon, and from nine to eleven in the evening, I apply to other matters. I am in a fair way, if public affairs will suffer me, to be retired.
Paterson is the very man we want. He is sensible, friendly, and, as far as I am capable of judging, profound in the law. He is to examine me on Saturday or Monday on what I have read, and I am preparing accordingly. I have heard him examine Noel yesterday on the practice, and I find his examinations are critical. In a couple of months I expect to be as far advanced in the practice as Noel. I cannot bear that he should be before me. It must not, it shall not be.
My health is perfectly restored, and I am now as well as ever I was. I am happy to hear you grow better. May you soon be well enough to join me. The weather is so intensely hot, and I am so closely engaged in study, that I cannot determine when I shall pay you a visit.
Yours, &c.,
ROBERT TROUP.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
On the Rariton, 21st August, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
The account I have given of my situation is far from a fiction. You will find it a pleasing reality when you come here, which I suppose you will postpone till you see me, as I have no doubt at present that the second division of the French fleet has arrived, with a re-enforcement of 4000 troops. This event will render it necessary for me to be ready to move at a moment’s warning; and, presuming there will be no delay in commencing our operations, I think, in the course of a fortnight, or three weeks at most, I shall be at Paramus.
Will your health permit you to join the army? I fear not. Fatigue and bad weather may ruin it. I confess I am much disappointed in my opinion of the mineral waters. From your letters, I conclude the stock of health you have gained since I left you is scarcely perceptible. Something else must be tried. Life is precious, and demands every exertion and sacrifice to preserve it. Mr. Paterson and I have often spoken together on this subject, and we both agree that a ride to the southward next winter, and a trip to the West Indies in the spring, would be of infinite service to you. This might be done with ease in five or six months.
Mrs. Paterson is perfectly recovered, and her little girl grows finely, and promises to be handsome. Mrs. Paterson often asks about you, and seems anxious to have you among us. When you come, remember to bring with you the book you took with you on our way to Paramus. I believe it is an essay on health. Mrs. Paterson wants it, the idea you gave me of her is just. She is easy, polite, sensible, and friendly. Paterson is rather deficient in the graces, but he possesses every virtue that enters into the composition of an amiable character.
I can hardly go out anywhere without being asked a number of questions about you. You seem to be universally known and esteemed. Mr. Morris’s family are exceedingly particular in their inquiries concerning your health. It would be easier for you to conceive, than for me to tell you, how much they like you. They insist upon our paying them a visit as soon as you are settled here, which I have promised, on your part as well as my own.
Let me entreat you to avoid engaging any of your French books in Connecticut, especially Chambaud’s Exercises, to any person whatever. I, and perhaps you, will stand in need of them all.
I am greatly indebted to the good family for their favourable sentiments, which, as I said once before, must proceed more from affection to you than what they find meritorious in me. I am certain, however, that their esteem for me cannot exceed mine for them, and this you will be kind enough to hint to them when you present my respectful compliments. Assure Dom. Tetard of my friendship for him, and fixed determination to use all endeavours to metamorphose him into a Crassus after the war is ended. Adieu
ROBERT TROUP.
Footnotes:
1. Late President of the United States.
2. The residence of Mrs. Prevost.
3. Continental paper dollars–equal in value to _sixty for one silver dollar_.
4. Judge Tappan Reeve, whose lady was the sister of Colonel Burr.
5. The sister of Mrs. Prevost
6. Deputy quartermaster-general; subsequently commissary for the French army, and treasurer of the state of Connecticut.
7. Printer to the king in the city of New-York.
CHAPTER XIII.
FROM WILLIAM PATERSON.
Morristown, 27th August, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
I was not at Rariton when the doctor, who was the bearer of your letter, passed that way. It would have given me pleasure to have shown him every mark of attention and esteem in my power.
I dare say you count it an age since I have written you; and, indeed, I must confess that the time has been long. Your good-nature, however, will induce you to forgive me, although I cannot expect it from your justice. I hope the water you drink will prove medicinal, and soon restore you to health; although I am more disposed to think that it will take time, and be effected gradually. Persons indisposed (I speak from experience) are generally impatient to become well, and that very impatience has a natural tendency to prevent it. Do not be restless, my dear Burr; nor think that, because you do not get well in a month, or in a season, you will not get well at all. The heat of this summer has been intense, nor is it as yet much abated. Perhaps that too may have had some effect upon you. The hale and hearty could scarcely bear up under it. May health soon visit you, my good friend.
Mrs. Paterson is well. Our little pledge, a girl, Burr, [1] has been much indisposed, but is at present on the mending hand. I am from home as usual. My official duty obliges me to be so. I grow quite uneasy under it, and I find ease and retirement necessary for the sake of my constitution, which has been somewhat broken in upon by unceasing attention to business. The business has been too much for me. I have always been fond of solitude, and, as it were, of _stealing_ along through life. I am now sufficiently fond of domestic life. I have every reason to be so. Indeed, I know no happiness but at home. Such one day will be your situation.
My compliments to the family at the Hermitage. I shall write you before I leave this place.
Yours, &c.
WILLIAM PATERSON.
FROM WILLIAM PATERSON.
Morristown, 31st August, 1780.
MY DEAR BURR,
It is now near the midnight hour, and yet, late as it is, I could not acquit myself to my conscience if I had not again written you before I left this place, which will be early tomorrow. My life is quite in the militant style–one continued scene of warfare. From this place I go down to the Supreme Court at Trenton, which will be on Tuesday next, and the Tuesday after that I shall return once more to Morristown, and when I shall leave it will be uncertain. I rejoice when the hour of rest comes up, and sicken at the approach of day. Business fairly bears me down. The truth is, that I am tired of writing, tired of reading, tired of bustling in a crowd, and, by fits, heartily tired of myself.
I hope you go on gaining strength, and that you will in a little while get the better of your disorder. The mind and the body affect each other extremely. To a person in your state, hilarity, cheerfullness, a serene flow of spirits, are better than all the drugs in a doctor’s shop. Gentle exercise is of infinite service. I hope you are not wanting in any of these. If you are, I cannot easily pardon you, because they are all within your power.
Make my compliments acceptable to the family at the Hermitage. I have a high regard for them, and sincerely wish their happiness. I really pity and admire Mrs. Prevost. Her situation demands a tear; her conduct and demeanour the warmest applause. Tell Mrs. Prevost that she must remember me among her friends; and that I shall be happy to render her all the service in my power.
Since I have been at this place I have had a letter from Mrs. Paterson, who is well. Our little girl, who was indisposed when I left home, is not worse. I flatter myself I shall find her better when I return. Alas, that I cannot be more at home. A husband and a parent have a thousand tendernesses that you know nothing of. Adieu, my dear Burr; live and be happy.
WILLIAM PATERSON.
FROM COLONEL TROUP.
Morristown, October 23d, 1780.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
I want words to express the pleasure I feel at the receipt of yours of the 22d, by the boy who came for your horse. It relieved me from a burden which had sunk my spirits lower than I recollect them to have been by any calamity I have met with during the war. My imagination had crowded my mind with a thousand melancholy reflections from the moment I got your letter by Dr. Cutting, who, like a modern well-bred gentleman, left it at my lodgings only three days ago. Some evil genius certainly interrupts our correspondence. I write letters without number, and yet you seldom hear from me, and when you do, the letter is as old as if it had come from the other side of the Atlantic. It is exactly the case with yours.
Mr. Paterson has been more unfortunate than I. He has often complained of your neglect, as he thought it; but I informed him of the fate my letters shared, and he was easy. However, he desired me last night to give you a hint, that he had lately written you several long letters without receiving an answer to either. He is now at Princeton, attending court. I shall forward your letter that accompanied mine to him by a safe conveyance. Paterson really loves you with the tenderest affection, and can scarcely speak of your state of health without shedding a friendly tear. As God is my judge, I could not forbear shedding several when I read yours by Dr. Cutting, which is the first I have had from you in near five weeks. I was afraid all farther attempts to recover your health, so as to qualify you to execute our plan, would be fruitless. In short, I thought you on the brink of eternity, ready to take your final farewell of this wrangling world. The critical situation of your sister increased my distress, and extinguished every hope. How much more happy should I be if your sister’s health took the same fortunate turn. Your ride to Litchfield must be doubly agreeable, as it will tend to establish your health and better hers.
I must now communicate to you a disagreeable piece of news respecting myself. It shows how rare it is to find a man of real disinterested benevolence. Sears and Broome, I understand by Mr. Noel, who returned from Philadelphia a few days ago, have protested the bill I drew upon them last summer. Colonel Palfrey bought it, and has it returned to him, for what reasons I cannot say positively, but I suspect they are determined not to assist me, although they were lavish of their offers when they supposed I never would be reduced to the necessity of accepting them. Such conduct is characteristic of excessive meanness of spirit, and I confess I am deceived in my opinion of them most egregiously. True it is, that instances of this kind of behaviour often occur in our intercourse with mankind; but, from the fortunes these men have made since the war, and the frequent reports of their generosity, I was led to imagine there was something more than mere idle compliment and ostentatious parade in their offers. I was deceived, and I hope it will be the last time. This affair has wounded my pride so sensibly, that I shall be extremely cautious in future. I must and will endeavour to adopt some mode of drawing supplies from my certificates, which will be three years old next spring, and therefore ought to be taken up by Congress By the table of depreciation published by Congress to regulate the payment of the principal of their certificates, I am entitled to three hundred and fifty pounds, at the very lowest calculation, and this sum in specie.
When you come here you must exert all your abilities in finance, to make me no longer dependant upon the bounty of friends; or rather, I should say, your bounty, for you are the only person I have borrowed money of. Till that time, my dear friend, can you keep me above water, and do justice to yourself? Will you be able to extricate me from the difficulties attending this bill? In plain terms, can you spare me the amount of it? My reputation suffers by having the bill protested, and I must, in a short time, send the money to Colonel Palfrey, for I am persuaded I have no farther ground to expect the least assistance from Sears and Broome. Fail not, by any means, to write me on this subject before you leave Paramus, and be careful how you send the letter.
There is nothing but your health and my poverty that retards my progress in study. They are fruitful sources of disquietude. When I lay me down to sleep, they often prevent me from closing my eyes. When I look into a book, they present a variety of melancholy images to my imagination, and unfit me for improvement In all other respects I am situated to my wishes: Paterson treats me as a bosom friend. He has gone so far as to press me in the warmest terms to command his purse. How I shall be able to requite your friendship is a matter beyond my penetration. I declare, before the Searcher of all hearts, that I consider your happiness and welfare as inseparable from my own, and that no vicissitudes of fortune, however prosperous or calamitous they may be, will ever tear you from my heart. Circumstanced as I now am, words are the only proofs I can give you of my gratitude and affection. Time will prove whether they are the cant of hypocrisy or the language of esteem.
I lent your horse to Mrs. Paterson about a week ago, to carry her to Elizabethtown to see her brother, who was to meet her there from New-York; and disappointments in not seeing him, from day to day, have detained her much longer than was expected, and it is probable that she will not return until Thursday next; I have therefore sent the boy down to Elizabethtown, or, more properly, shall send him in the morning, with Mr. Noel’s horse, which will answer full as well in the wagon. This change will produce no inconvenience at all, and is better than to detain the boy till Mrs. Paterson returns. She was exceedingly well when she left home, and so was her little girl, which is handsome, good-tempered, fat, and hearty. I am very particular in presenting _her_ your respects, and _she_ is as particular in inquiring about you.
Bring all the French books you can from Connecticut, particularly Chambaud’s Exercises, and all the other elementary books you have. I should be fond of having the perusal of Rousseau’s Social Compact, if you can borrow it of Mrs. Prevost for me. I am quite rusty in the French, for I have neglected it totally for two or three months. The business of the office has engrossed so much of my attention, that I have not lately read any other book but Blackstone. I am still in the third volume. I digest thoroughly as I advance. I have unravelled all the difficulties of the practice, and can do common business with tolerable dexterity.
The horse will be delivered to you without a saddle. Gales, a young fellow who was studying with Mr. Paterson, requested me to lend it to him to ride as far as Newark last August, and he ran off to New-York, and I never could get the saddle again. This piece of villany I could not foresee, and it surprised almost as much as Arnold’s. The grass has been very short, and I fancy the horse will be leaner than you expect. He is a most excellent saddle-horse.
I am extremely sorry to hear Mrs. Prevost and her sister are unwell. Remember me to them in the most friendly manner. Give my compliments also to Dr. Latimer, and all friends in the army near you. Don’t forget Mrs. De Visme, the children, Dom. Tetard, and the family on the hill, although I hear they are strongly prejudiced against me. Mrs.