Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 1.

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New-York, 27th September, 1785.

I have counted the hours till evening; since that, the minutes, and am
still on the watch; the stage not arrived: it is a cruel delay. Your
health, your tender frame, how are they supported! Anxiety obliterates
every other idea; every noise stops my pen; my heart flutters with
hope and fear; the pavement from this to Cape's [4] is kept warm by
the family; every eye and ear engrossed by expectation; my mind is in
too much trepidation to write. I resume my pen after another
messenger, in vain. I will try to tell you that those you love are
well; that the boys are very diligent; Ireson gone to Westchester. My
new medicine will, I flatter myself, prove a lucky one. Sally
amazingly increased. Fream at work at the roof. He thinks it too flat
to be secured. The back walls of the house struck through with the
late rain. M.Y. still at Miss W. You must not expect to find dancing
on Thursday night. I should think it a degree of presumption to make
the necessary preparations without knowing the state of your health.
Should this account prove favourable, I still think it best to delay
it, as the stage is very irregular in its return. That of Saturday did
not arrive till Sunday morning; it brought an unfavourable account of
the roads. Thus you probably would not partake, nor would I wish
spectators to check my vigilance, or divide that attention which is
ever insufficient when thou art the object. O, my Aaron, how impatient
I am to welcome thy return; to anticipate thy will, and receive thy
loved commands. The clock strikes eleven. No stage. My letter must go.
I have been three hours writing, or attempting to write, this
imperfect scrawl. The children desire me to speak their affection.
Mamma will not be forgot; she especially shares my anxiousness. Adieu.

THEODOSIA BURR

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, October 30th, 1785. I have received your two affectionate
letters. The enclosed was intended to have been sent by the stage
which I met on my way up; but, by untoward accidents (needless to
detail), yet lies by me. My disorder has left me almost since I left
the city.

The person with whom I had business had gone from this place before my
arrival, so that I should have been, ere this, on my return, but that
I have suffered myself to be engaged in two land causes (Van Hoesen
and Van Rensselaer), which begin to-morrow, and will probably last the
whole week. I am retained for Van Hoesen, together with J. Bay and P.
W. Yates. Such able coadjutors will relieve me of the principal
burden. You may judge with what reluctance I engaged in a business
which will detain me so long from all that is dear and lovely. I dare
not think on the period I have yet to be absent. I feel it in some
sort a judgment for the letters written by the girls to N.W.

Your account of your health is very suspicious; you are not particular
enough; you say nothing of the means you use to restore yourself;
whether you take exercise, or how you employ your time.

I shall probably leave this on Sunday next; my horse will not take me
home in three days. I fear I shall not see you till Wednesday morning
of next week; perhaps not even then, for I am engaged to attend the
court at Bedford on Tuesday of next week. You shall hear again by the
stage.

Will not these continued rains deprive us of the pleasure of the
promised visit of the W.'s? How is it possible you can write me such
short letters, having so much leisure, and surrounded with all that
can interest me? Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, 2d November, 1785.

I have lived these three days upon the letters I expected this
evening, and behold the stage without a line! I have been through the
rain, and dark, and mud, hunting up every passenger to catechise them
for letters, and can scarce yet believe that I am so totally
forgotten.

Our trial, of which I wrote you on Sunday, goes on moderately. It will
certainly last till twelve o'clock on Saturday night; longer it
cannot, that being the last hour of court. Of course, I leave this on
Sunday; shall be detained at Westchester till about Thursday noon, and
be home on Friday. This is my present prospect; a gloomy one, I
confess; rendered more so by your unpardonable silence. I have a
thousand questions to ask, but why ask of the dumb?

I am quite recovered. The trial in which I am engaged is a fatiguing
one, and in some respects vexatious. But it puts me in better humour
to reflect that you have just received my letter of Sunday, and are
saying or thinking some good-natured things of me. Determining to
write any thing that can amuse and interest me; every thing that can
atone for the late silence, or compensate for the hard fate that
divides us.

Since being here I have resolved that you in future accompany me on
such excursions, and I am provoked to have yielded to your idle fears
on this occasion. I have told here frequently, within a day or two,
that I was never so long from home before, till, upon counting days, I
find I have been frequently longer. I am so constantly anticipating
the duration of this absence, that when I speak of it I realize the
whole of it.

Let me find that you have done justice to yourself and me. I shall
forgive none the smallest omission on this head. Do not write by the
Monday stage, or rather, do not send the letter you write, as it is
possible I shall leave the stage-road in my way to Bedford.

Affectionately adieu,

A. BURR.

Footnotes:

1. Major Popham, fifty-four years after the date of this letter,
attended as a pall-bearer the funeral of Colonel Burr, the friend of
his youth.

2. Mrs. Prevost's son.

3. The unfortunate Mrs. Alston, of whom much will be said hereafter.

4. Stagehouse.

CHAPTER XV.

FROM MRS. BURR

New-York, August, 1786.

Your letter was faithfully handed us by the boy from Hall's. Bartow
has enclosed the papers. Those you mentioned to me on the night of
your departure I cannot forward, as I have forgot the names of the
parties, and they cannot guess them in the office from my description,
I hope the disappointment will not be irreparable.

If you finish your causes before court is over, cannot you look at us,
even should you return to the manor? The two girls followed you to the
stagehouse, saw you seated and drive off. Frederick's tooth prevented
his attendance. My heart is full of affection, my head too barren to
express it. I am impatient for evening; for the receipt of your dear
letter; for those delightful sensations which your expressions of
tenderness alone can excite. Dejected, distracted with out them;
elated, giddy even to folly with them; my mind, never at medium,
claims every thing from your partiality.

I have just determined to take a room at aunt Clarke's till Sally
recovers her appetite; by the advice of the physician, we have changed
her food from vegetable to animal. A change of air may be equally
beneficial. You shall have a faithful account, I leave town at six
this evening. All good angels attend thee. The children speak their
love. Theodosia has written to you, and is anxious lest I should omit
sending it. Toujours la votre,

THEODOSIA.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, August, 1786.

Your letter of Thursday evening was stuffed into one of the office
papers, so that I did not find it for half an hour after I received
the packet, during all which time I had the pleasure of abusing you
stoutly. But I had only prepared myself for the most delightful
surprise. I apologized with great submission.

Why are you so cautiously silent as to our little Sally? You do not
say that she is better or worse; from which I conclude she is worse. I
am not wholly pleased with your plan of meat diet. It is recommended
upon the idea that she has no disorder but a general debility. All the
disorders of this season are apt to be attended with fevers, in which
case animal diet is unfriendly. I beg you to watch the effects of this
whim with great attention. So essential a change will certainly have
visible effects. Remember, I do not absolutely condemn, because I do
not know the principles, but am fearful.

Every minute of my time is engrossed to repair the loss of my little
book. Thank the boys for their attention to the business I left them
in charge. I wish either of them had given me a history of what is
doing in the office, and you of what is doing in the family. The girls
I know to be incorrigibly lazy, and therefore expect nothing from
them. The time was--but I have no leisure to reflect.

Thine,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, August, eleven o'clock at night, 1786.

I have this day your letter by my express. I am sorry that you and
others perplex yourselves with that office nonsense. Am too fatigued
and too busy to say more of it. We began our Catskill causes this
morning, and have this minute adjourned to meet at seven in the
morning. We shall be engaged at the same disagreeable rate till
Saturday evening. I think our title stands favourably; but the jury
are such that the verdict will be in some measure hazardous. I have
judgment for Maunsel against Brown, after a laboured argument. Inform
him, with my regards.

Since writing thus far, I have your affectionate letter by the stage,
which revives me. I shall not go to the manor. But, if I succeed in
our causes, shall be obliged to go to Catskill to settle with the
tenants, make sales, &c. Of this you cannot know till Tuesday evening.

I am wrong to say that I shall not go to the manor. I am obliged to
attend a Court of Chancery there. The chancellor had gone hence before
my arrival. I cannot be home till Thursday evening. I hope your next
will be of the tenour of the last. Your want of cheerfullness is the
least acceptable of any token of affection you can give me. Good
angels guard and preserve you.

A. BURR.

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, November, 1787.

What language can express the joy, the gratitude of Theodosia? Stage
after stage without a line. Thy usual punctuality gave room for every
fear; various conjectures filled every breast. One of our sons was to
have departed tomorrow in quest of the best of friends and fathers.
This morning we waited the stage with impatience. Shrouder went
frequently before it arrived; at length returned--_no letter._ We were
struck dumb with disappointment. Bartow set out to inquire who were
the passengers; in a very few minutes returned exulting,--a packet
worth the treasures of the universe. Joy brightened every face; all
expressed their past anxieties; their present happiness. To enjoy was
the first result. Each made choice of what they could best relish.
Porter, sweet wine, chocolate, and sweetmeats made the most delightful
repast that could be shared without thee. The servants were made to
feel _their lord was well_, are at this instant toasting his health
and bounty; while the boys are obeying thy dear commands, thy
Theodosia flies to speak her heartfelt joys:--her Aaron safe, mistress
of the heart she adores; can she ask more? has Heaven more to grant?
"_Plus que jamais a vous_," dost thou recollect it? Do I read right? I
can't mistake; I read it everywhere; 'tis stamped on the blank paper;
I sully the impression with reluctance; I know not what I write. You
talk of long absence. I stoop not to dull calculations; thou hast
judged it best; thy breast breathes purest flame. What greater
blessing can await me? Every latent spark is kindled in my soul. My
imagination is crowded with ideas; they leave me no time for
utterance; _plus que jamais_; but for Sally, I should set out
to-morrow to meet you. I must dress and visit to-morrow. I have heard
nothing of the W.s. Our two dear pledges have an instinctive knowledge
of their mother's bliss. They have been awake all the evening I have
the youngest in my arms. Our sweet prattler exclaims at every noise,
There's dear papa, and runs to meet him. I pursue the medicine I began
when you left us, and believe it efficacious. Exercise costs me a
crown a day; our own horse disabled by the nail which penetrated the
joint. I have grown less, and better pleased with myself; feel
confident of your approbation. W. hastens the first assembly. F.
feigns herself lame, that she may not accompany M., who submits to
every little meanness, and bears all hints with insensibility. Has
called here once. Clement sailed on Monday.

Your remark on the shortness of my letters is flattering. This is the
last you shall complain of. My spirits and nerves coincide in asking
repose. Your daughter commands it. Our dear children join in the
strongest assurances of honest love. Mamma will not be forgotten.
Sweet sleep attend thee. Thy Theo.'s spirit shall preside. I wish you
may find this scrawl as short at reading as I have at writing. I am
surprised to find myself obliged to enclose it. Adieu.

THEODOSIA BURR.

FROM MRS. BURR.

New-York, Wednesday, November, 1787.

My health is better. As I fondly believe this the most interesting
intelligence I can give thee, I make it my preamble. What would I not
give to have but those four small words from thee? Though I had but
little hope, I found myself involuntarily counting the passing hours.
My messenger met the stage at the door. I need not relate his success.
I fancy many ills from the situation of your health when you left
home, and pray ardently they may prove merely fanciful. I have still
three tedious days to the next stage, when a line of affection shall
repay all my anxieties. Ireson returned to-day. The poor boys have
really been models of industry. They write all day and evening, and
sometimes all night, nor allow themselves time to powder.

I feel as though my guardian angel had forsaken me. I fear every thing
but ghosts. Tell me, Aaron, why do I grow every day more tenacious of
thy regard? Is it possible my affection can increase? Is it because
each revolving day proves thee more deserving? Surely, thy Theo.
needed no proof of thy goodness. Heaven preserve the patron of my
flock; preserve the husband of my heart; teach me to cherish his love,
and to deserve the boon.

THEODOSIA BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Poughkeepsie, 28th June, 1788.

This afternoon the stage will pass through this place. Your letters
will not come to me till the morning, so that I can only thank you for
them, and the kind things they contain, by anticipation. I have
already read them in the same way, and therefore do thank you for
them, _de plein coeur_. I have a convenient room for my business in
one house, board at a different house, and bad lodgings at a third
house. This is, indeed, not so convenient an arrangement as might be
wished; but I could not procure these different accommodations at less
than three houses in this metropolis and seat of government.

As the boys will wish to know something of the progress of business
here, tell them that the cause of Freer and Van Vleeck has been this
day put off by the defendants, on payment of costs, on an affidavit of
the want of papers. In Noxon's cause I have a verdict for thirty-four
pounds. The evidence clearly entitled Mr. Livingston to three or four
hundred pounds, and so was the charge of the judge; but landlords are
not popular or favoured in this county. I am now going to court to
defend an action of trespass, in which I have been employed here; and
shall try Mr. Lansing's cause to-morrow, which will close my business
here. With how much regret I shall go further from home. Kiss our dear
children.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Poughkeepsie, 29th June, 1788.

I have sat an hour at the door watching the arrival of the stage. At
length it comes, and your dear packet is handed to me just in season
to be acknowledged by Mr. Johnstone. He will tell you of the further
progress of my business and my intended movements. I go this evening
to Rhinebeck. How wishfully I look homeward. I like your industry, and
will certainly reward it as you shall direct.

My time is much engrossed. My health perfectly good. You say nothing
of yours; but your industry is a good omen. You can write to me by
Monday's stage, directed to be forwarded to me from Rhinebeck. I shall
be then at Kingston. Much love to the smiling little girl. I received
her letter, but not the pretty things. I continually plan my return
with childish impatience, and fancy a thousand incidents which render
it more interesting. Reserve your health and spirits, and I shall not
be deceived.

Affectionately,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, August 7th, 1788.

Oh Theo.! there is the most delightful grove--so darkened with
_weeping willows_, that at noonday a _susceptible_ fancy like yours
would mistake it for a bewitching moonlight evening. These
sympathizing willows, too, exclude even the prying eye of curiosity.
Here no rude noise interrupts the softest whisper. Here no harsher
sound is heard than the wild cooings of the gentle dove, the gay
thresher's animated warbles, and the soft murmurs of the passing
brook. Really, Theo., it is _charming_.

I should have told you that I am speaking of Fort Johnson, where I
have spent a day. From this _amiable_ bower you ascend a gentle
declivity, by a winding path, to a cluster of lofty oaks and locusts.
Here nature assumes a more august appearance. The gentle brook, which
murmured soft below, here bursts a cataract. Here you behold the
stately Mohawk roll his majestic wave along the lofty Apalachians.
Here the mind assumes a nobler tone, and is occupied by sublimer
objects. What _there_ was tenderness, _here_ swells to rapture. It is
truly _charming_.

The windings of this enchanting brook form a lovely island, variegated
by the most sportive hand of nature. This shall be yours. We will
plant it with jessamines and woodbine, and call it Cyprus. It seems
formed for the residence oL the loves and the graces, and is therefore
yours by the best of titles. It is indeed most _charming_.

But I could fill sheets in description of the beauties of this
romantic place. We will reserve it for the subject of many an amusing
hour. And besides being little in the habit of the sublime or
poetical, I grow already out of breath, and begin to falter, as you
perceive. I cannot, however, omit the most interesting and important
circumstance; one which I had rather communicate to you in this way
than face to face. I know that you was opposed to this journey to Fort
Johnson. It is therefore with the greater regret that I communicate
the event; and you are not unacquainted with my inducements to it.

In many things I am indeed unhappy in possessing a singularity of
taste; particularly unhappy when that taste differs in any thing from
yours. But we cannot control necessity, though we often persuade
ourselves that certain things are our choice, when in truth we have
been unavoidably impelled to them. In the instance I am going to
relate, I shall not examine whether I have been governed by mere
fancy, or by motives of expediency, or by caprice; you will probably
say the latter.

My dear Theo., arm yourself with all your fortitude. I know you have
much of it, and I hope that upon this occasion you will not fail to
exercise it. I abhor preface and preamble, and don't know why I have
now used it so freely. But I am well aware that what I am going to
relate needs much apology _from_ me, and will need much _to_ you. If I
am the unwilling, the unfortunate instrument of depriving you of any
part of your promised gayety or pleasure, I hope you are too generous
to aggravate the misfortune by upbraiding me with it. Be assured (I
hope the assurance is needless), that whatever diminishes your
happiness equally impairs mine. In short, then, for I grow tedious
both to you and myself; and to procrastinate the relation of
disagreeable events only gives them poignancy; in short, then, my dear
Theo., the beauty of this same Fort Johnson, the fertility of the
soil, the commodiousness and elegance of the buildings, the great
value of the mills, and the very inconsiderable price which was asked
for the whole, have _not_ induced me to purchase it, and probably
never will: in the confidence, however, of meeting your forgiveness,

Affectionately yours,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, 26th October, 1788.

I wrote you a few hours ago, and put the letter into the postofflce.
Little did I then imagine how much pleasure was near at hand for me.
Judge Hobart has this minute arrived, and handed me your letter of
Monday. I cannot thank you sufficiently for all the affection it
contains. Be assured it has every welcome which congenial affection
can give.

The headache with which I left New-York grew so extreme, that finding
it impossible to proceed in the stage, the view of a vessel off
Tarrytown, under full sail before the wind, tempted me to go on board.
We reached West Point that night, and lay there at anchor near three
days. After a variety of changes from sloop to wagon, from wagon to
canoe, and from canoe to sloop again, I reached this place last
evening. I was able, however, to land at Rhinebeck on Thursday
evening, and there wrote you a letter which I suppose reached you on
Saturday last.

My business in court will detain me till Saturday of this week, when I
propose to take passage in sloop. I have just drunk tea with Mrs.
Fairlie, and her daughter, five days old. Thank Bartow for the papers
by Judge Hobart. When I wrote him this evening I had not received
them.

Yours,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, November, 1788.

I received your affectionate letter just as I was going into court,
and under the auspices of it have tried with success two causes. The
bearer of this was my client in one of them, and is happy beyond
measure at his success. Business has increased upon my hands since I
came here. My return seems daily more distant, but not to be regretted
from any views but those of the heart.

I hope you persevere in the regular mode of life which I pointed out
to you. I shall be seriously angry if you do not. I think you had best
take less wine and more exercise. A walk twice round the garden before
breakfast, and a ride in the afternoon, will do for the present, and
this will be necessary to fit you for the journey to Long Island.

A Captain Randolph will call with Mr. Mersereau: _c'est un soldat et
honnete homme, donnez eux a boire._ They will answer all your
questions.

Yours truly,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, 23d November, 1788.

I thank you for your obliging letter of the 19th. It is not, indeed,
so long as I had hoped, but your reason for being concise is too
ingenious not to be admitted. I have, however, a persuasion that you
are at this moment employed in the same manner that I am; and in the
hope that your good intentions will not be checked by either want of
health or want of spirits, I venture to expect a much longer letter by
the coming post.

Your account of the progress of the measles is alarming. I am pleased
to find that you yet keep your ground. It persuades me that,
notwithstanding what you have written, you do not think the hazard
very great. That disorder hath found its way to this city, but with no
unfavourable symptoms. It is not spoken of as a thing to be either
feared or avoided.

I have no prospect of being able to leave this place before this day
week, probably not so soon. You must, by return of post, assure me
that I shall find you in good health and spirits. This will enable me
to despatch business and hasten my return. Kiss those who love me.

A. BURR

TO MRS. BURR.

Albany, 26th November, 1788.

The unusual delay of the post deprives me of the pleasure of hearing
from you this evening. This I regret the more, as your last makes me
particularly anxious for that which I expected by this post.

I am wearied out with the most tedious cause I was ever engaged in.
To-morrow will be the eighth day since we began it, and it may
probably last the whole of this week. Write me whether any thing calls
particularly for my return so as to prevent my concluding my business
here. I am at a loss what to write until I have your answer to my
letters, for which I am very impatient.

Yours affectionately,

A. BURR.

From the commencement of the year 1785 until the year 1788, Colonel
Burr took but little part in the political discussions of the day. In
the year 1787 the opinion had become universal that the states could
not be kept together under the existing articles of confederation. On
the second Monday in May, 1787, a convention met in Philadelphia for
the avowed purpose of "_revising the Articles of Confederation_," &c.
On the 28th of September following, that convention, having agreed
upon a "_new constitution_," ordered that the same be transmitted to
the several legislatures for the purpose of being submitted to a
convention of delegates, chosen in each state, for its adoption or
rejection.

In January, 1788, the legislature of New-York met, and warm
discussions ensued on the subject of the new constitution. These
discussions arose on the question of calling a state convention.
Parties had now become organized. The friends of the new constitution
styled themselves _federalists_. Its opponents were designated
_anti-federalists_. The latter denied the right of the general
convention to form a "new constitution," and contended that they were
limited in their powers to "revising and amending the Articles of
Confederation." The former asserted that the general convention had
not transcended its powers.

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