Washington, January 26, 1803.
Your last letter, and the only one received within a month, is dated the 14th inst., and written, I suppose, at your plantation. It gives me the satisfaction of knowing that you and your boy are well, and nothing more. How long you are to remain there, where next to go, and every thing leading to a knowledge of your occupations and intentions, is omitted. One half of the letter is a complaint of my silence, and the other half (nearly) an apology for yours, You know (or am I now to tell you) that you and your concerns are the highest, the dearest interest I have in this world; one in comparison with which all others are insignificant.
Recollect, my dear Theodosia, that in five weeks Congress will adjourn (3d March); that I shall then go in some direction, but in what is yet unsettled; that my movements will depend essentially on yours. Tell me, therefore, where you are to pass the summer, when you are to leave Charleston, and all the details. If these matters should not yet be settled, let it be forthwith done. If you are not to go northward, it is not probable that I shall see you in some time, for I have thoughts of going on a tour through the western country, which, if executed, will consume the whole summer. I offer you and your family Richmond Hill for the season, and will meet you there in May or June, or when you please. Perhaps would come to make the voyage with you, by land or water. Sullivan's Island will not, I hope, be thought of. How is it that I have not a line from Mari, in answer to several letters which I wrote him from New-York?
I entreat you to answer this letter distinctly, and in all its parts; for there will not be time for another letter and reply before I shall be off. My love to Kate. You do not say whether she grows handsome or ugly, nor is it any matter which while on the plantation.
I can't conceive how you all stow yourselves in that little wreck of a mansion. Please to write over, in some way, the erased part of your letter. You must be very destitute of wit and contrivance. No essence in Washington. I still prefer musk, but not to be had. One would think you had suffered some injury from perfumes. Your message and commission to Mrs. Madison will be delivered. My mode of life, establishment, &c., are the same as last year, except that I bought a chariot, having some hope of seeing you and your husband here. As I shall not write again until I hear where you are, I may as well say now all that occurs to me.
On my way through Philadelphia I rode out to Lansdown, to see our beautiful little K. and Mrs. L. They appear to love you with all their hearts. K. especially talked of you with an interest which could not be affected. The ladies find fault with her dress, her person, her manners; in short, with every thing appertaining to her. Mrs. L. has also her full share of the eulogium. K. is toujours belle. At Wilmington I did not see friend S. She had gone to church. God bless thee.
A. BURR
TO DR. JOHN COATS.
Washington, February 23, 1803.
It is from me, my dear sir, that apologies are due; but you have kindly anticipated all I could make. I thank you for this instance of your goodness; for your friendly recollection; above all, for the justice you do to my heart and feelings. Your last letter has been received. It is without date, and came by the mail of yesterday. You see that I am resolved not to furnish a new occasion for apologies by further negligence. Whether, after the adjournment, I shall go North or South, is yet undetermined. If northward, I propose to take the route which you had the goodness to describe, and to pass at least some hours with you. I shall insist on a dish of lillipee, in order to give a more dramatic effect to the review which we will take of past scenes.