I made the journey from Providence by land in four days. Near town, yesterday, P.M., I met Mr. and Mrs. Harper, of Baltimore. They are to breakfast with me this morning; so I must make haste, for it is now eight o'clock. How bad I write to-day. With Mr. and Mrs. Harper was a pretty-looking, black-eyed lass, whose name I did not hear. I hope she is coming out to breakfast, for I like her. There was also that Liverpool merchant, who used to hang on Butler so in Charleston. I hope he won't come.
I wrote you from Providence, on Monday last, all I had to say of it and its inhabitants. I found the whole country, from Providence to this place, greatly alarmed about the yellow fever, said to be in New-York, and dreadful stories in circulation, as usual. There have been some suspicious cases, and some decided instances of yellow fever. Our practising physicians, however, our mayor and police-officers deny its existence. There is no alarm in town. The coffee-house is attended as usual. This length of intolerable heat has, I fear, prepared an atmosphere for the kind reception, if not for the generation of the fever. Now I hear the carriage. Bon jour. Be a good girl. Love to H. 'Twas nothing but a cart.
L. and her little bang are here (chez nous); how happy are you mothers. She will descant on its beauties by the hour; will point them out to you distinctly, lest they might escape notice. The hair, the nose, the mouth, and, in short, every feature, limb, and muscle, is admirable and is admired. To all which I agreed.
Jerome Bonaparte is not here; nor is it certain that he is on the continent. The French consul, whom I met in the road, told me, with une maniere mysterieuse, that he had something to communicate on that subject. Maybe he is come, maybe he isn't. I conjecture that he is come or coming.
Here they come, in earnest. I see only one lady in the carriage; so miss has not come; well, she may stay.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, August 8, 1803.
Your amiable letter of the 1st inst. has not yet come to hand, and therefore cannot yet be acknowledged; perhaps it has not yet been written.
Indeed, we are about to be scourged with the plague called yellow fever. John Bard dead; but, to keep the account good, Billy B. has twins (boys). Catharine Church Cruger (Mrs. Peter C.) has a son. But of the deaths. We die reasonably fast. Six or eight new cases reported yesterday. Of those who take the fever three fourths die. The coffee-house was, nevertheless, pretty well attended. No appearances of alarm until to-day. Several families have removed from the neighbourhood of the Tontine Coffee-house, and five times the number will remove to-morrow. Laight claimed Mr. Alston's promise of Montalto, and I have admitted his pretensions. He will take possession to-morrow or next day. Our pretty (beautiful) Mrs. Talbot, late Miss Truxton, more lately Mrs. Cox, is in my neighbourhood.