Albany, August, eleven o'clock at night, 1786.
I have this day your letter by my express. I am sorry that you and others perplex yourselves with that office nonsense. Am too fatigued and too busy to say more of it. We began our Catskill causes this morning, and have this minute adjourned to meet at seven in the morning. We shall be engaged at the same disagreeable rate till Saturday evening. I think our title stands favourably; but the jury are such that the verdict will be in some measure hazardous. I have judgment for Maunsel against Brown, after a laboured argument. Inform him, with my regards.
Since writing thus far, I have your affectionate letter by the stage, which revives me. I shall not go to the manor. But, if I succeed in our causes, shall be obliged to go to Catskill to settle with the tenants, make sales, &c. Of this you cannot know till Tuesday evening.
I am wrong to say that I shall not go to the manor. I am obliged to attend a Court of Chancery there. The chancellor had gone hence before my arrival. I cannot be home till Thursday evening. I hope your next will be of the tenour of the last. Your want of cheerfullness is the least acceptable of any token of affection you can give me. Good angels guard and preserve you.
A. BURR.
FROM MRS. BURR.
New-York, November, 1787.
What language can express the joy, the gratitude of Theodosia? Stage after stage without a line. Thy usual punctuality gave room for every fear; various conjectures filled every breast. One of our sons was to have departed tomorrow in quest of the best of friends and fathers. This morning we waited the stage with impatience. Shrouder went frequently before it arrived; at length returned—no letter. We were struck dumb with disappointment. Bartow set out to inquire who were the passengers; in a very few minutes returned exulting,—a packet worth the treasures of the universe. Joy brightened every face; all expressed their past anxieties; their present happiness. To enjoy was the first result. Each made choice of what they could best relish. Porter, sweet wine, chocolate, and sweetmeats made the most delightful repast that could be shared without thee. The servants were made to feel their lord was well, are at this instant toasting his health and bounty; while the boys are obeying thy dear commands, thy Theodosia flies to speak her heartfelt joys:—her Aaron safe, mistress of the heart she adores; can she ask more? has Heaven more to grant? "Plus que jamais à vous," dost thou recollect it? Do I read right? I can't mistake; I read it everywhere; 'tis stamped on the blank paper; I sully the impression with reluctance; I know not what I write. You talk of long absence. I stoop not to dull calculations; thou hast judged it best; thy breast breathes purest flame. What greater blessing can await me? Every latent spark is kindled in my soul. My imagination is crowded with ideas; they leave me no time for utterance; plus que jamais; but for Sally, I should set out to-morrow to meet you. I must dress and visit to-morrow. I have heard nothing of the W.s. Our two dear pledges have an instinctive knowledge of their mother's bliss. They have been awake all the evening I have the youngest in my arms. Our sweet prattler exclaims at every noise, There's dear papa, and runs to meet him. I pursue the medicine I began when you left us, and believe it efficacious. Exercise costs me a crown a day; our own horse disabled by the nail which penetrated the joint. I have grown less, and better pleased with myself; feel confident of your approbation. W. hastens the first assembly. F. feigns herself lame, that she may not accompany M., who submits to every little meanness, and bears all hints with insensibility. Has called here once. Clement sailed on Monday.
Your remark on the shortness of my letters is flattering. This is the last you shall complain of. My spirits and nerves coincide in asking repose. Your daughter commands it. Our dear children join in the strongest assurances of honest love. Mamma will not be forgotten. Sweet sleep attend thee. Thy Theo.'s spirit shall preside. I wish you may find this scrawl as short at reading as I have at writing. I am surprised to find myself obliged to enclose it. Adieu.