Jefferson goes with the President to Rhode Island.—Visits Monticello.—Letter to Mrs. Eppes.—Goes to Philadelphia.—Family Letters.—Letter to Washington.—Goes to Monticello.—Letters to his Daughter.—His Ana.—Letters to his Daughter.—To General Washington.—To Lafayette.—To his Daughter.
In the month of August (1790) Jefferson went with the President on a visit to Rhode Island. In his recent tour through New England, the President had not visited Rhode Island, because that State had not then adopted the new Constitution; now, however, wishing to recruit a little after his late illness, he bent his steps thither. On the 1st of September Jefferson set out for Virginia. He offered Mr. Madison a seat in his carriage, and the two friends journeyed home together, stopping at Mount Vernon to pay a visit of two days to the President. He arrived at Monticello on the 19th, and found his whole family assembled there to welcome him back after his six months' absence. On the eve of his return to the seat of government he wrote a letter to Mrs. Eppes, from which I give the following extract: The solitude she (Mrs. Randolph) will be in induces me to leave Polly with her this winter. In the spring I shall have her at Philadelphia, if I can find a good situation for her there. I would not choose to have her there after fourteen years of age. As soon as I am fixed in Philadelphia, I shall be in hopes of receiving Jack. Load him, on his departure, with charges not to give his heart to any object he will find there. I know no such useless bauble in a house as a girl of mere city education. She would finish by fixing him there and ruining him. I will enforce on him your charges, and all others which shall be for his good.
After enjoying the society of his children and the sweets of domestic life for not quite two months, Jefferson reluctantly turned his back upon home once more, and set out for the seat of government on the 8th of November. Mr. Madison again took a seat in his carriage on returning, and they once more stopped at Mount Vernon, where Washington still lingered, enjoying the repose of home life on the peaceful banks of the Potomac. After having established himself in his new abode in Philadelphia, Mr. Jefferson began his regular weekly correspondence with his family in Virginia; and I give the following letters to tell the tale of his life during his absence from home on this occasion, which continued from the 8th of November, 1790, to the 12th of September, 1791. To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, Dec. 1st, 1790. My dear Daughter—In my letter of last week to Mr. Randolph, I mentioned that I should write every Wednesday to him, yourself, and Polly alternately; and that my letters arriving at Monticello the Saturday, and the answer being sent off on Sunday, I should receive it the day before I should have to write again to the same person, so as that the correspondence with each would be exactly kept up. I hope you will do it, on your part. I delivered the fan and note to your friend Mrs. Waters (Miss Rittenhouse that was), she being now married to a Dr. Waters. They live in the house with her father. She complained of the petit format of your letter, and Mrs. Trist of no letter. I inclose you the "Magasin des Modes" of July. My furniture is arrived from Paris; but it will be long before I can open the packages, as my house will not be ready to receive them for some weeks. As soon as they are opened, the mattresses, etc., shall be sent on. News for Mr. Randolph—the letters from Paris inform that as yet all is safe there. They are emitting great sums of paper money. They rather believe there will be no war between Spain and England; but the letters from London count on a war, and it seems rather probable. A general peace is established in the north of Europe, except between Russia and Turkey. It is expected between them also. Wheat here is a French crown the bushel. Kiss dear Poll for me. Remember me to Mr. Randolph. I do not know yet how the Edgehill negotiation has terminated. Adieu, my dear. Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, Dec. 7th, 1790. My dear Poll—This week I write to you, and if you answer my letter as soon as you receive it, and send it to Colonel Bell at Charlottesville, I shall receive it the day before I write to you again—that will be three weeks hence, and this I shall expect you to do always, so that by the correspondence of Mr. Randolph, your sister, and yourself, I may hear from home once a week. Mr. Randolph's letter from Richmond came to me about five days ago. How do you all do? Tell me that in your letter; also what is going forward with you, how you employ yourself, what weather you have had. We have already had two or three snows here. The workmen are so slow in finishing the house I have rented here, that I know not when I shall have it ready, except one room, which they promise me this week, and which will be my bed-room, study, dining-room, and parlor. I am not able to give any later news about peace or war than of October 16th, which I mentioned in my last to your sister. Wheat has fallen a few pence, and will, I think, continue to fall, slowly at first, and rapidly after a while. Adieu, my dear Maria; kiss your sister for me, and assure Mr. Randolph of my affection. I will not tell you how much I love you, lest, by rendering you vain, it might render you less worthy of my love. Encore adieu. TH. J.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, Dec. 23d, 1790. My dear Daughter—This is a scolding letter for you all. I have not received a scrip of a pen from home since I left it. I think it so easy for you to write me one letter every week, which will be but once in the three weeks for each of you, when I write one every week, who have not one moment's repose from business, from the first to the last moment of the week. Perhaps you think you have nothing to say to me. It is a great deal to say you are all well; or that one has a cold, another a fever, etc.: besides that, there is not a sprig of grass that shoots uninteresting to me; nor any thing that moves, from yourself down to BergÈre or Grizzle. Write, then, my dear daughter, punctually on your day, and Mr. Randolph and Polly on theirs. I suspect you may have news to tell me of yourself of the most tender interest to me. Why silent, then?
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, Jan. 5th, 1791. I did not write to you, my dear Poll, the last week, because I was really angry at receiving no letter. I have now been near nine weeks from home, and have never had a scrip of a pen, when by the regularity of the post I might receive your letters as frequently and as exactly as if I were at Charlottesville. I ascribed it at first to indolence, but the affection must be weak which is so long overruled by that. Adieu. TH. J.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, Feb. 9th, 1791. My dear Martha—Your two last letters are those which have given me the greatest pleasure of any I ever received from you. The one announced that you were become a notable housewife; the other, a mother. The last is undoubtedly the key-stone of the arch of matrimonial happiness, as the first is its daily aliment. Accept my sincere congratulations for yourself and Mr. Randolph. I hope you are getting well; towards which great care of yourself is necessary; for however advisable it is for those in health to expose themselves freely, it is not so for the sick. You will be out in time to begin your garden, and that will tempt you to be out a great deal, than which nothing will tend more to give you health and strength. Remember me affectionately to Mr. Randolph and Polly, as well as to Miss Jenny. Yours sincerely, TH. JEFFERSON.
From Mary Jefferson. Monticello, January 22d, 1791. Dear Papa—I received your letter of December the 7th about a fortnight ago, and would have answered it directly, but my sister had to answer hers last week and I this. We are all well at present. Jenny Randolph and myself keep house—she one week, and I the other. I owe sister thirty-five pages in Don Quixote, and am now paying them as fast as I can. Last Christmas I gave sister the "Tales of the Castle," and she made me a present of the "Observer," a little ivory box, and one of her drawings; and to Jenny she gave "Paradise Lost," and some other things. Adieu, dear Papa. I am your affectionate daughter, MARIA JEFFERSON.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, February 16th, 1791. My dear Poll—At length I have received a letter from you. As the spell is now broken, I hope you will continue to write every three weeks. Observe, I do not admit the excuse you make of not writing because your sister had not written the week before; let each write their own week without regard to what others do, or do not do. I congratulate you, my dear aunt, on your new title. I hope you pay a great deal of attention to your niece, and that you have begun to give her lessons on the harpsichord, in Spanish, etc. Tell your sister I make her a present of Gregory's "Comparative View," inclosed herewith, and that she will find in it a great deal of useful advice for a young mother. I hope herself and the child are well. Kiss them both for me. Present me affectionately to Mr. Randolph and Miss Jenny. Mind your Spanish and your harpsichord well, and think often and always of, yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON. P.S.—Letter inclosed, with the book for your sister.
From Mary Jefferson. Monticello, February 13th, 1791. Dear Papa—I am very sorry that my not having written to you before made you doubt my affection towards you, and hope that after having read my last letter you were not so displeased as at first. In my last I said that my sister was very well, but she was not; she had been sick all day without my knowing any thing of it, as I staid up stairs the whole day; however, she is very well now, and the little one also. She is very pretty, has beautiful deep-blue eyes, and is a very fine child. Adieu, my dear papa. Believe me to be your affectionate daughter, MARIA JEFFERSON.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, March 9th, 1791. My dear Maria—I am happy at length to have a letter of yours to answer, for that which you wrote to me February 13th came to hand February 28th. I hope our correspondence will now be more regular, that you will be no more lazy, and I no more in the pouts on that account. On the 27th of February I saw blackbirds and robin-redbreasts, and on the 7th of this month I heard frogs for the first time this year. Have you noted the first appearance of these things at Monticello? I hope you have, and will continue to note every appearance, animal and vegetable, which indicates the approach of spring, and will communicate them to me. By these means we shall be able to compare the climates of Philadelphia and Monticello. Tell me when you shall have peas, etc., up; when every thing comes to table; when you shall have the first chickens hatched; when every kind of tree blossoms, or puts forth leaves; when each kind of flower blooms. Kiss your sister and niece for me, and present me affectionately to Mr. Randolph and Miss Jenny. Yours tenderly, my dear Maria, TH. J.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, March 24th, 1791. My dear Daughter—The badness of the roads retards the post, so that I have received no letter this week from Monticello. I shall hope soon to have one from yourself; to know from that that you are perfectly re-established, that the little Anne is becoming a big one, that you have received Dr. Gregory's book and are daily profiting from it. This will hardly reach you in time to put you on the watch for the annular eclipse of the sun, which is to happen on Sunday se'nnight, to begin about sunrise. It will be such a one as is rarely to be seen twice in one life. I have lately received a letter from Fulwar Skipwith, who is Consul for us in Martinique and Guadaloupe. He fixed himself first in the former, but has removed to the latter. Are any of your acquaintances in either of those islands? If they are, I wish you would write to them and recommend him to their acquaintance. He will be a sure medium through which you may exchange souvenirs with your friends of a more useful kind than those of the convent. He sent me half a dozen pots of very fine sweetmeats. Apples and cider are the greatest presents which can be sent to those islands. I can make those presents for you whenever you choose to write a letter to accompany them, only observing the season for apples. They had better deliver their letters for you to F. S. Skipwith. Things are going on well in France, the Revolution being past all danger. The National Assembly being to separate soon, that event will seal the whole with security. Their islands, but more particularly St. Domingo and Martinique, are involved in a horrid civil war. Nothing can be more distressing than the situation of their inhabitants, as their slaves have been called into action, and are a terrible engine, absolutely ungovernable. It is worse in Martinique, which was the reason Mr. Skipwith left it. An army and fleet from France are expected every hour to quell the disorders. I suppose you are busily engaged in your garden. I expect full details on that subject as well as from Poll, that I may judge what sort of a gardener you make. Present me affectionately to all around you, and be assured of the tender and unalterable love of, yours, TH. JEFFERSON.
From Mary Jefferson. Monticello, March 6th, 1791. According to my dear papa's request I now sit down to write. We were very uneasy for not having had a letter from you since six weeks, till yesterday I received yours, which I now answer. The marble pedestal and a dressing-table are come. Jenny is gone down with Mrs. Fleming, who came here to see sister when she was sick. I suppose you have not received the letter in which Mr. Randolph desires you to name the child. We hope you will come to see us this summer, therefore you must not disappoint us, and I expect you want to see my little niece as much as you do any of us. We are all well, and hope you are so too. Adieu, dear papa. I am your affectionate daughter, MARIA JEFFERSON. P.S. My sister says I must tell you the child grows very fast.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, March 31st, 1791. My dear Maria—I am happy to have a letter of yours to answer. That of March 6th came to my hands on the 24th. By-the-by, you never acknowledged the receipt of my letters, nor tell me on what day they came to hand. I presume that by this time you have received the two dressing-tables with marble tops. I give one of them to your sister, and the other to you: mine is here with the top broken in two. Mr. Randolph's letter, referring to me the name of your niece, was very long on the road. I answered it as soon as I received it, and hope the answer got duly to hand. Lest it should have been delayed, I repeated last week to your sister the name of Anne, which I had recommended as belonging to both families. I wrote you in my last that the frogs had begun their songs on the 7th; since that the bluebirds saluted us on the 17th; the weeping-willow began to leaf on the 18th; the lilac and gooseberry on the 25th; and the golden-willow on the 26th. I inclose for your sister three kinds of flowering beans, very beautiful and very rare. She must plant and nourish them with her own hand this year, in order to save enough seeds for herself and me. Tell Mr. Randolph I have sold my tobacco for five dollars per c., and the rise between this and September. Warehouse and shipping expenses in Virginia, freight and storage here, come to 2s. 9d. a hundred, so that it is as if I had sold it in Richmond for 27s. 3d. credit till September, or half per cent. per month discount for the ready money. If he chooses it, his Bedford tobacco may be included in the sale. Kiss every body for me. Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, April 17th, 1791. My dear Daughter—Since I wrote last to you, which was on the 24th of March, I have received yours of March 22. I am indeed sorry to hear of the situation of Walter Gilmer, and shall hope the letters from Monticello will continue to inform me how he does. I know how much his parents will suffer, and how much he merited all their affection. Mrs. Trist has been so kind as to have your calash made, but either by mistake of the maker or myself it is not lined with green. I have, therefore, desired a green lining to be got, which you can put in yourself if you prefer it. Mrs. Trist has observed that there is a kind of veil lately introduced here, and much approved. It fastens over the brim of the hat, and then draws round the neck as close or open as you please. I desire a couple to be made, to go with the calash and other things. Mr. Lewis not liking to write letters, I do not hear from him; but I hope you are readily furnished with all the supplies and conveniences the estate affords. I shall not be able to see you till September, by which time the young grand-daughter will begin to look bold and knowing. I inclose you a letter to a woman who lives, I believe, on Buck Island. It is from her sister in Paris, which I would wish you to send express. I hope your garden is flourishing. Present me affectionately to Mr. Randolph and Polly. Yours sincerely, my dear, TH. JEFFERSON.
I find among his letters for this month (March) the following friendly note to Mr. Madison: Jefferson to Madison. What say you to taking a wade into the country at noon? It will be pleasant above head at least, and the party will finish by dining here. Information that Colonel Beckwith is coming to be an inmate with you, and I presume not a desirable one, encourages me to make a proposition, which I did not venture as long as you had your agreeable Congressional society about you; that is, to come and take a bed and plate with me. I have four rooms, of which any one is at your service. Three of them are up two pair of stairs, the other on the ground-floor, and can be in readiness to receive you in twenty-four hours. Let me entreat you, my dear Sir, to do it, if it be not disagreeable to you. To me it will be a relief from a solitude of which I have too much; and it will lessen your repugnance to be assured it will not increase my expenses an atom. When I get my library open, you will often find a convenience in being close at hand to it. The approaching season will render this situation more agreeable than Fifth Street, and even in the winter you will not find it disagreeable. Let me, I beseech you, have a favorable answer to both propositions. March 13th, 1791.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, April 24th, 1791. I have received, my dear Maria, your letter of March 26th. I find I have counted too much on you as a botanical and zoological correspondent, for I undertook to affirm here that the fruit was not killed in Virginia, because I had a young daughter there who was in that kind of correspondence with me, and who, I was sure, would have mentioned it if it had been so. However, I shall go on communicating to you whatever may contribute to a comparative estimate of the two climates, in hopes it will induce you to do the same to me. Instead of waiting to send the two veils for your sister and yourself round with the other things, I inclose them with this letter. Observe that one of the strings is to be drawn tight round the root of the crown of the hat, and the veil then falling over the brim of the hat, is drawn by the lower string as tight or loose as you please round the neck. When the veil is not chosen to be down, the lower string is also tied round the root of the crown, so as to give the appearance of a puffed bandage for the hat. I send also inclosed the green lining for the calash. J. Eppes is arrived here. Present my affections to Mr. R., your sister, and niece. Yours with tender love, TH. JEFFERSON.
From Mary Jefferson. Monticello, April 18th, 1791. Dear Papa—I received your letter of March 31st the 14th of this month; as for that of March 9, I received it some time last month, but I do not remember the day. I have finished Don Quixote, and as I have not Desoles yet, I shall read Lazarillo de Tormes. The garden is backward, the inclosure having but lately been finished. I wish you would be so kind as to send me seven yards of cloth like the piece I send you. Adieu, my dear papa. I am your affectionate daughter, MARIA JEFFERSON.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph.—[Extract.] Philadelphia, May 8th, 1791. I thank you for all the small news of your letter, which it is very grateful for me to receive. I am happy to find you are on good terms with your neighbors. It is almost the most important circumstance in life, since nothing is so corroding as frequently to meet persons with whom one has any difference. The ill-will of a single neighbor is an immense drawback on the happiness of life, and therefore their good-will can not be bought too dear.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, May 8th, 1791. My dear Maria—Your letter of April 18th came to hand on the 30th; that of May 1st I received last night. By the stage which carries this letter I send you twelve yards of striped nankeen of the pattern inclosed. It is addressed to the care of Mr. Brown, merchant in Richmond, and will arrive there with this letter. There are no stuffs here of the kind you sent. April 30th the lilac blossomed. May 4th the gelder-rose, dogwood, redbud, azalea were in blossom. We have still pretty constant fires here. I shall answer Mr. Randolph's letter a week hence. It will be the last I shall write to Monticello for some weeks, because about this day se'nnight I set out to join Mr. Madison at New York, from whence we shall go up to Albany and Lake George, then cross over to Bennington, and so through Vermont to the Connecticut River, down Connecticut River, by Hartford, to New Haven, then to New York and Philadelphia. Take a map and trace this route. I expect to be back in Philadelphia about the middle of June. I am glad you are to learn to ride, but hope that your horse is very gentle, and that you will never be venturesome. A lady should never ride a horse which she might not safely ride without a bridle. I long to be with you all. Kiss the little one every morning for me, and learn her to run about before I come. Adieu, my dear. Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.
The following letter from Jefferson to his brother-in-law, Mr. Eppes, gives us a glimpse of young Jack Eppes, his future son-in-law: To Francis Eppes. Philadelphia, May 15th, 1791. Dear Sir—Jack's letters will have informed you of his arrival here safe and in health.... Your favors of April 5th and 27th are received. I had just answered a letter of Mr. Skipwith's on the subject of the Guineaman, and therefore send you a copy of that by way of answer to your last. I shall be in Virginia in October, but can not yet say whether I shall be able to go to Richmond. Jack is now set in to work regularly. He passes from two to four hours a day at the College, completing his courses of sciences, and four hours at the law. Besides this, he will write an hour or two to learn the style of business and acquire a habit of writing, and will read something in history and government. The course I propose for him will employ him a couple of years. I shall not fail to impress upon him a due sense of the advantage of qualifying himself to get a living independently of other resources. As yet I discover nothing but a disposition to apply closely. I set out to-morrow on a journey of a month to Lakes George, Champlain, etc., and having yet a thousand things to do, I can only add assurances of the sincere esteem with which I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and servant, TH. JEFFERSON. Francis Eppes, Esq., Eppington.
In a letter of the same date to Mrs. Eppes, he writes: To Mrs. Eppes. I received your favor of April 6th by Jack, and my letter of this date to Mr. Eppes will inform you that he is well under way. If we can keep him out of love, he will be able to go straight forward and to make good progress. I receive with real pleasure your congratulations on my advancement to the venerable corps of grandfathers, and can assure you with truth that I expect from it more felicity than any other advancement ever gave me. I only wish for the hour when I may go and enjoy it entire. It was my intention to have troubled you with Maria when I left Virginia in November, satisfied it would be better for her to be with you; but the solitude of her sister, and the desire of keeping them united in that affection for each other which is to be the best future food of their lives, induced me to leave her at Monticello.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Lake Champlain, May 31st, 1791. My dear Martha—I wrote to Maria yesterday while sailing on Lake George, and the same kind of leisure is afforded me to-day to write to you. Lake George is, without comparison, the most beautiful water I ever saw; formed by a contour of mountains into a basin thirty-five miles long, and from two to four miles broad, finely interspersed with islands, its water limpid as crystal, and the mountain sides covered with rich groves of thuja, silver fir, white pine, aspen, and paper birch down to the water-edge; here and there precipices of rock to checker the scene and save it from monotony. An abundance of speckled trout, salmon trout, bass, and other fish, with which it is stored, have added, to our other amusements, the sport of taking them. Lake Champlain, though much larger, is a far less pleasant water. It is muddy, turbulent, and yields little game. After penetrating into it about twenty-five miles, we have been obliged, by a head wind and high sea, to return, having spent a day and a half in sailing on it. We shall take our route again through Lake George, pass through Vermont, down Connecticut River, and through Long Island to New York and Philadelphia. Our journey has hitherto been prosperous and pleasant, except as to the weather, which has been as sultry and hot through the whole as could be found in Carolina or Georgia. I suspect, indeed, that the heats of Northern climates may be more powerful than those of Southern ones in proportion as they are shorter. Perhaps vegetation requires this. There is as much fever and ague, too, and other bilious complaints on Lake Champlain as on the swamps of Carolina. Strawberries here are in the blossom, or just formed. With you, I suppose, the season is over. On the whole, I find nothing anywhere else, in point of climate, which Virginia need envy to any part of the world. Here they are locked up in ice and snow for six months. Spring and autumn, which make a paradise of our country, are rigorous winter with them; and a tropical summer breaks on them all at once. When we consider how much climate contributes to the happiness of our condition, by the fine sensations it excites, and the productions it is the parent of, we have reason to value highly the accident of birth in such a one as that of Virginia. From this distance I can have little domestic to write to you about. I must always repeat how much I love you. Kiss the little Anne for me. I hope she grows lustily, enjoys good health, and will make us all, and long, happy as the centre of our common love. Adieu, my dear. Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.[43]
The allusion in the following letter to the Duke of Dorset, and to his niece, the charming Lady Caroline Tufton, deserves a word of explanation. The Duke was British Minister in France during Mr. Jefferson's stay there. The two became acquainted and warm personal friends, and an intimate friendship sprang up between Martha Jefferson and Lady Caroline. On her return to America, Martha requested her father to call one of his farms by her friend's name, which he did, and a fine farm lying at the foot of Monticello bears at this day the name of Tufton. To Martha Jefferson Randolph.—[Extract.] Philadelphia, June 23d, 1791. I wrote to each of you once during my journey, from which I returned four days ago, having enjoyed through the whole of it very perfect health. I am in hopes the relaxation it gave me from business has freed me from the almost constant headache with which I had been persecuted during the whole winter and spring. Having been entirely clear of it while travelling, proves it to have been occasioned by the drudgery of business. I found here, on my return, your letter of May 23d, with the pleasing information that you were all in good health. I wish I could say when I shall be able to join you; but that will depend on the motions of the President, who is not yet returned to this place. In a letter written to me by young Mr. Franklin, who is in London, is the following paragraph: "I meet here with many who ask kindly after you. Among these the Duke of Dorset, who is very particular in his inquiries. He has mentioned to me that his niece has wrote once or twice to your daughter since her return to America; but not receiving an answer, had supposed she meant to drop her acquaintance, which his niece much regretted. I ventured to assure him that was not likely, and that possibly the letters might have miscarried. You will take what notice of this you may think proper." Fulwar Skipwith is on his return to the United States. Mrs. Trist and Mrs. Waters often ask after you. Mr. Lewis being very averse to writing, I must trouble Mr. Randolph to inquire of him relative to my tobacco, and to inform me about it. I sold the whole of what was good here. Seventeen hogsheads only are yet come; and by a letter of May 29, from Mr. Hylton, there were then but two hogsheads more arrived at the warehouse. I am uneasy at the delay, because it not only embarrasses me with guessing at excuses to the purchaser, but is likely to make me fail in my payments to Hanson, which ought to be made in Richmond on the 19th of next month. I wish much to know when the rest may be expected. In your last you observed you had not received a letter from me in five weeks. My letters to you have been of Jan. 20, Feb. 9, March 2, 24, April 17, May 8, which you will observe to be pretty regularly once in three weeks. Matters in France are still going on safely. Mirabeau is dead; also the Duke de Richelieu; so that the Duke de Fronsac has now succeeded to the head of the family, though not to the title, these being all abolished. Present me affectionately to Mr. Randolph and Polly, and kiss the little one for me.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, June 26th, 1791. My dear Maria—I hope you have received the letter I wrote you from Lake George, and that you have well fixed in your own mind the geography of that lake, and of the whole of my tour, so as to be able to give me a good account of it when I shall see you. On my return here I found your letter of May 29th, giving me the information it is always so pleasing to me to receive—that you are all well. Would to God I could be with you to partake of your felicities, and to tell you in person how much I love you all, and how necessary it is to my happiness to be with you. In my letter to your sister, written to her two or three days ago, I expressed my uneasiness at hearing nothing more of my tobacco, and asked some inquiries to be made of Mr. Lewis on the subject. But I received yesterday a letter from Mr. Lewis with full explanations, and another from Mr. Hylton, informing me the tobacco was on its way to this place. Therefore desire your sister to suppress that part of my letter and say nothing about it. Tell her from me how much I love her. Kiss her and the little one for me, and present my best affections to Mr. Randolph, assured of them also yourself, from yours, TH. J.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, July 31st, 1791. The last letter I have from you, my dear Maria, was of the 29th of May, which is nine weeks ago. Those which you ought to have written the 19th of June and 10th of July would have reached me before this if they had been written. I mentioned in my letter of the last week to your sister that I had sent off some stores to Richmond, which I should be glad to have carried to Monticello in the course of the ensuing month of August. They are addressed to the care of Mr. Brown. You mentioned formerly that the two commodes were arrived at Monticello. Were my two sets of ivory chessmen in the drawers? They have not been found in any of the packages which came here, and Petit seems quite sure they were packed up. How goes on the music, both with your sister and yourself? Adieu, my dear Maria. Kiss and bless all the family for me. Yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.
From Mary Jefferson. Monticello, July 10th, 1791. My dear Papa—I have received both your letters, that from Lake George and of June the 26th. I am very much obliged to you for them, and think the bark that you wrote on prettier than paper. Mrs. Monroe and Aunt Bolling are here. My aunt would have written to you, but she was unwell. She intends to go to the North Garden. Mr. Monroe is gone to Williamsburg to stay two or three weeks, and has left his lady here. She is a charming woman. My sweet Anne grows prettier every day. I thank you for the pictures and nankeen that you sent me, which I think very pretty. Adieu, dear papa. I am your affectionate daughter, MARIA JEFFERSON.
To Mary Jefferson. Philadelphia, August 21st, 1791. My dear Maria—Your letter of July 10th is the last news I have from Monticello. The time of my setting out for that place is now fixed to some time in the first week of September, so that I hope to be there between the 10th and 15th. My horse is still in such a condition as to give little hope of his living: so that I expect to be under the necessity of buying one when I come to Virginia, as I informed Mr. Randolph in my last letter to him. I am in hopes, therefore, he will have fixed his eye on some one for me, if I should be obliged to buy. In the mean time, as Mr. Madison comes with me, he has a horse which will help us on to Virginia. Kiss little Anne for me, and tell her to be putting on her best looks. My best affections to Mr. Randolph, your sister, and yourself. Adieu, my dear Maria, TH. JEFFERSON.
In a letter written to Mrs. Randolph in July he announced the arrival of his French steward, Petit,[44] who he said accosted him "with the assurance that he had come pour rester toujours avec moi," he goes on, as follows: The principal small news he brings is that Panthemont is one of the convents to be kept up for education; that the old Abbess is living, but Madame de Taubenheim dead; that some of the nuns have chosen to rejoin the world, others to stay; that there are no English prisoners there now; Botidorer remains there, etc., etc. Mr. Short lives in the HÔtel d'Orleans, where I lived when you first went to Panthemont.
The following extract from a letter of Jefferson to Washington, written early in the spring of this year (1791), shows the warmth of his affection for him, and betrays a touching anxiety for his welfare: I shall be happy to hear that no accident has happened to you in the bad roads you have passed, and that you are better prepared for those to come by lowering the hang of your carriage, and exchanging the coachman for two postilions, circumstances which I confess to you appeared to me essential for your safety; for which no one on earth more sincerely prays, both from public and private regard, than he who has the honor to be, with sentiments of the most profound respect, Sir, your most obedient and most humble servant.
Mr. Jefferson left Philadelphia for Virginia on the 2d of September, and arrived at Monticello on the 12th. He remained there just one month, leaving for the seat of government on the 12th of October. His regrets at leaving home were on this occasion lessened by the pleasure of being accompanied on his return to Philadelphia by his beautiful young daughter, Maria. His establishment in Philadelphia was one suitable to his rank and position. He kept five horses, and besides his French steward, Petit, who presided over the mÉnage of his house, he had four or five hired male servants and his daughter's maid. In a letter to Mr. Randolph written on the 25th of October, he writes thus of his journey: The first part of our journey was pleasant, except some hair-breadth escapes which our new horse occasioned us in going down hills the first day or two, after which he behaved better, and came through the journey preserving the fierceness of his spirit to the last. I believe he will make me a valuable horse. Mrs. Washington took possession of Maria at Mount Vernon, and only restored her to me here (Philadelphia). It was fortunate enough, as we had to travel through five days of north-east storm, having learned at Mount Vernon that Congress was to meet on the 24th instead of the 31st, as I had thought. We got here only on the 22d. The sales at Georgetown were few, but good. They averaged $2400 the acre. Maria is immersed in new acquaintances; but particularly happy with Nelly Custis, and particularly attended to by Mrs. Washington. She will be with Mrs. Pine a few days hence.
In a later letter to Mrs. Randolph, he says: Maria is fixed at Mrs. Pine's, and perfectly at home. She has made young friends enough to keep herself in a bustle, and has been honored with the visits of Mrs. Adams, Mrs. Randolph, Mrs. Rittenhouse, etc., etc.
Towards the close of this year Jefferson began to keep his "Ana," or notes on the passing transactions of the day. The tale of his life will be found pleasantly carried on in the following letters to his daughter: To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, January 15th, 1792. My dear Martha—Having no particular subject for a letter, I find none more soothing to my mind than to indulge itself in expressions of the love I bear you, and the delight with which I recall the various scenes through which we have passed together in our wanderings over the world. These reveries alleviate the toils and inquietudes of my present situation, and leave me always impressed with the desire of being at home once more, and of exchanging labor, envy, and malice for ease, domestic occupation, and domestic love and society; where I may once more be happy with you, with Mr. Randolph, and dear little Anne, with whom even Socrates might ride on a stick without being ridiculous. Indeed it is with difficulty that my resolution will bear me through what yet lies between the present day and that which, on mature consideration of all circumstances respecting myself and others, my mind has determined to be the proper one for relinquishing my office. Though not very distant, it is not near enough for my wishes. The ardor of these, however, would be abated if I thought that, on coming home, I should be left alone. On the contrary, I hope that Mr. Randolph will find a convenience in making only leisurely preparations for a settlement, and that I shall be able to make you both happier than you have been at Monticello, and relieve you of dÉsagrÉmens to which I have been sensible you were exposed, without the power in myself to prevent it, but by my own presence. Remember me affectionately to Mr. Randolph, and be assured of the tender love of, yours, TH. JEFFERSON.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, February 26th, 1792. My dear Martha—We are in daily expectation of hearing of your safe return to Monticello, and all in good health. The season is now coming on when I shall envy you your occupations in the fields and garden, while I am shut up drudging within four walls. Maria is well and lazy, therefore does not write. Your friends, Mrs. Trist and Mrs. Waters, are well also, and often inquire after you. We have nothing new and interesting from Europe for Mr. Randolph. He will perceive by the papers that the English are beaten off the ground by Tippoo Saib. The Leyden Gazette assures that they were only saved by the unexpected arrival of the Mahrattas, who were suing to Tippoo Saib for peace for Lord Cornwallis. My best esteem to Mr. Randolph, and am, my dear Martha, yours affectionately, TH. JEFFERSON.
To Martha Jefferson Randolph. Philadelphia, March 22d, 1792. My dear Martha—Yours of February 20th came to me with that welcome which every thing brings from you. It is a relief to be withdrawn from the torment of the scenes amidst which we are. Spectators of the heats and tumults of conflicting parties, we can not help participating of their feelings. I should envy you the tranquil occupations of your situation, were it not that I value your happiness more than my own, but I too shall have my turn. The ensuing year will be the longest of my life, and the last of such hateful labors; the next we will sow our cabbages together. Maria is well. Having changed my day of writing from Sunday to Thursday or Friday, she will oftener miss writing, as not being with me at the time. I believe you knew Otchakitz, the Indian who lived with the Marquis de Lafayette. He came here lately with some deputies from his nation, and died here of a pleurisy. I was at his funeral yesterday; he was buried standing up, according to their manner. I think it will still be a month before your neighbor, Mrs. Monroe, will leave us. She will probably do it with more pleasure than heretofore, as I think she begins to tire of the town and feel a relish for scenes of more tranquillity. Kiss dear Anne for her aunt, and twice for her grandpapa. Give my best affections to Mr. Randolph, and accept yourself all my tenderness. TH. JEFFERSON.
In the following extract from a letter to General Washington, written on the 23d of May (1792), Jefferson makes an eloquent appeal to him to remain for another term at the head of the Government. After speaking of the evil of a dissolution of the Union, he goes on to say: To George Washington. Yet, when we consider the mass which opposed the original coalescence; when we consider that it lay chiefly in the Southern quarter; that the Legislature have availed themselves of no occasion of allaying it, but, on the contrary, whenever Northern and Southern prejudices have come into conflict, the latter have been sacrificed and the former soothed; that the owners of the debt are in the Southern, and the holders of it in the Northern division; ... who can be sure that these things may not proselyte the small number that was wanting to place the majority on the other side? And this is the event at which I tremble, and to prevent which I consider your continuing at the head of affairs as of the last importance. The confidence of the whole Union is centred in you. Your being at the helm will be more than an answer to every argument which can be used to alarm and lead the people in any quarter into violence and secession. North and South will hang together if they have you to hang on; and if the first correction of a numerous representation should fail in its effect, your presence will give time for trying others not inconsistent with the union and peace of the State. I am perfectly aware of the oppression under which your present office lays your mind, and of the ardor with which you pant for domestic life. But there is, sometimes an eminence of character on which society have such peculiar claims as to control the predilections of the individual for a particular walk of happiness, and restrain him to that alone arising from the present and future benedictions of mankind. This seems to be your condition, and the law imposed on you by Providence in forming your character, and fashioning the events on which it was to operate; and it is to motives like these, and not to personal anxieties of mine or others, who have no right to call on you for sacrifices, that I appeal, and urge a revisal of it, on the ground of change in the aspect of things.... One or two sessions will determine the crisis, and I can not but hope that you can resolve to add more to the many years you have already sacrificed to the good of mankind. The fear of suspicion that any selfish motive of continuance in office may enter into this solicitation on my part, obliges me to declare that no such motive exists. It is a thing of mere indifference to the public whether I retain or relinquish my purpose of closing my tour with the first periodical renovation of the Government. I know my own measure too well to suppose that my services contribute any thing to the public confidence or the public utility. Multitudes can fill the office in which you have been pleased to place me, as much to their advantage and satisfaction. I have, therefore, no motive to consult but my own inclination, which is bent irresistibly on the tranquil enjoyment of my family, my farm, and my books. I should repose among them, it is true, in far greater security if I were to know that you remained at the watch; and I hope it will be so.
The following extract is taken from an affectionate letter written by Jefferson to Lafayette on the 16th of June, in which he congratulates him on his promotion to the command of the French armies: Behold you, then, my dear friend, at the head of a great army establishing the liberties of your country against a foreign enemy. May Heaven favor your cause, and make you the channel through which it may pour its favors. While you are extirpating the monster aristocracy, and pulling out the teeth and fangs of its associate monarchy, a contrary tendency is discovered in some here. A sect has shown itself among us, who declare they espoused our new Constitution not as a good and sufficient thing in itself, but only as a step to an English Constitution, the only thing good and sufficient in itself, in their eye. It is happy for us that these are preachers without followers, and that our people are firm and constant in their republican purity. You will wonder to be told that it is from the eastward chiefly that these champions for a King, Lords, and Commons come.
On the 22d of the same month he writes from Philadelphia to Mrs. Randolph as follows: To Martha Jefferson Randolph. My dear Martha—Yours of May 27th came to hand on the very day of my last to you, but after it was gone off. That of June 11th was received yesterday. Both made us happy in informing us you were all well. The rebuke to Maria produced the inclosed letter. The time of my departure for Monticello is not yet known. I shall, within a week from this time, send off my stores as usual, that they may arrive before me. So that, should any wagons be going down from the neighborhood, it would be well to desire them to call on Mr. Brown in order to take up the stores should they be arrived. I suspect, by the account you give me of your garden, that you mean a surprise, as good singers always preface their performances by complaints of cold, hoarseness, etc. Maria is still with me. I am endeavoring to find a good lady to put her with, if possible. If not, I shall send her to Mrs. Brodeaux, as the last shift. Old Mrs. Hopkinson is living in town, but does not keep house. I am in hopes you have visited young Mrs. Lewis, and borne with the old one, so as to keep on visiting terms. Sacrifices and suppression of feeling in this way cost much less pain than open separation. The former are soon over; the latter haunt the peace of every day of one's life, be that ever so long. Adieu, my dear, with my best affections to Mr. Randolph. Anne enjoys them without valuing them. TH. JEFFERSON.
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