Clifton, December 10, 1803.
Behold me again at Clifton; and, in good truth, I begin to be cloyed with the delights of bustle. William and myself left this the day after the date of my last. Some difficulty in crossing the horses delayed us till then. We reached Charleston on the second day, and I found Natalie delighted to see me, and still pretty. She has grown thinner, much thinner; but her complexion is still good, though more languid. The loss of her hair is, however, an alteration much for the worse. Her crop is pretty, but not half so much so as her fine brown hair. I write you all these foolish little particulars because you enter into them all, or, rather, are sensible of all their importance to us. Natalie has a lovely little daughter called after her.
Mr. Sumter is very affectionate and attentive to her, and polite to me. I like him infinitely better than I did. He is an amiable, good-hearted man, with talents to render him respectable. The people of Charleston have paid Natalie every possible attention; indeed, much more than I ever received.
Your letter of the 22d of November greeted me on my arrival here. The exchange has employed my thoughts ever since. Richmond Hill will, for a few years to come, be more valuable than Morris's; and to you, who are so fond of town, a place so far from it would be useless. So much for my reasoning on one side; now for the other. Richmond Hill has lost many of its beauties, and is daily losing more. If you mean it for a residence, what avail its intrinsic value? If you sell part, you deprive it of every beauty save the mere view. Morris's is the most commanding view on the island. It is reputed to be indescribably beautiful. The grounds are pretty. How many delightful walks can be made on one hundred and thirty acres! How much of your taste displayed! In ten or twenty years hence, one hundred and thirty acres on New-York island will be a principality; and there is to me something stylish, elegant, respectable, and suitable to you in having a handsome country-seat. So that, upon the whole, I vote for Morris's.
You, perhaps, have not yet heard of the death of J. M'Pherson. He expired on the road from town to his brother's. Poor Sally was with him, and John here. He has gone for her, and thus Hagley will be deserted for a long time.
Men are indubitably born monkeys. Gampy imitates me in every thing I do, and to-day I had a lesson not to be forgotten. He was playing in my room while I was dressing; quite at the commencement of my toilet, toute a fais en desabille, I ran out in the entry to call my maid; while engaged in that operation, I turned round and saw my brother's door opening within a few yards of me; girl-like, or rather babylike, I ran to my room, threw the door open violently, and uttering a scream, was at the other end of it in one jump. The boy, who was busily engaged in eating mint-drops, no sooner heard me scream and appear frightened than he yelled most loudly, and, running to me, caught my clothes, clinched his fists, and appeared really alarmed for two minutes. It was not affectation. Do you think this trait ominous of a coward? You know my abhorrence and contempt of those animals. Really I have been uneasy ever since it happened. You see I follow your injunction to the letter. How do you like this essay? Have you enough of gampy now?
THEODOSIA.
TO CHARLES BIDDLE.
New-York, July 20, 1800.