Rawleigh, Jan.y 2d, 1803.
My dearest Polly
You will laugh at my vexation when you hear the various calamities that have befallen me. In the first place when I came to review my funds, I had the mortification to discover that I had lost 15 silver dollars out of my waist coat pocket. They had worn through the various mendings the pocket had sustained and sought their liberty in the sands of Carolina.
I determined not to vex myself with what could not be remedied & ordered Peter to take out my cloaths that I might dress for court when to my astonishment & grief after fumbling several minutes in the portmanteau, starting [sic] at vacancy, & sweating most profusely he turned to me with the doleful tidings that I had no pair of breeches. You may be sure this piece of intelligence was not very graciously received; however, after a little scolding, I determined to make the best of my situation & immediately set out to get a pair made.
I thought I should be a sans-culotte only one day & that for the residue of the term I might be well enough dressed for the appearance on the first day to be forgotten.
But, the greatest of evils, I found, was followed by still greater. Not a taylor in town could be prevailed on to work for me. They were all so busy that it was impossible to attend to my wants however pressing they might be, & I have the extreme mortification to pass the whole time without that important article of dress I have mentioned. I have no alleviation for this misfortune but the hope that I shall be enabled in four or five days to commence my journey homeward & that I shall have the pleasure of seeing you & our dear children in eight or nine days after this reaches you.
In the meantime, I flatter myself that you are well and happy.
Adieu my dearest Polly
I am your own affectionate,
J. Marshall.