Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 2.

M >> Matthew L. Davis >> Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 2.

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I am negotiating to get an assurance from authority that I shall be
bailed, on receipt of which I shall surrender.

The eastern republicans take part against the calumniators in
New-York. Swartwout is now here. He thinks the tide has already turned
in New-York. You had better open a correspondence with him.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Hampton, St. Simon's, August 28, 1804.

We arrived on Saturday evening, all well. The mail, which arrives but
once a week, had just gone. An accidental opportunity enables me to
forward this to Savannah.

I am at the house of Major Butler, comfortably settled. A very
agreeable family within half a mile. My project is to go next week to
Florida, which may take up a fortnight or ten days, and soon after my
return to go northward, by Augusta and Columbia, if I can find ways
and means to get on; but I have no horse, nor does this country
furnish one. In my letter to your husband, written at the moment of
leaving Philadelphia, I desired him to name some place (healthy place)
at which he could meet me. Enclose to "Mr. R. King, Hampton, St.
Simon's."

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

St. Simon's, August 31, 1804.

I am now quite settled. My establishment consists of a housekeeper,
cook, and chambermaid, seamstress, and two footmen. There are,
besides, two fishermen and four bargemen always at command. The
department of laundress is done abroad. The plantation affords plenty
of milk, cream, and butter; turkeys, fowls, kids, pigs, geese, and
mutton; fish, of course, in abundance. Of figs, peaches, and melons
there are yet a few. Oranges and pomegranates just begin to be
eatable. The house affords Madeira wine, brandy, and porter. Yesterday
my neighbour, Mr. Couper, sent me an assortment of French wines,
consisting of Claret, Sauterne, and Champagne, all excellent; and at
least a twelve months' supply of orange shrub, which makes a most
delicious punch. Madame Couper added sweetmeats and pickles. The
plantations of Butler and Couper are divided by a small creek, and the
houses within one quarter of a mile of each other; accessible,
however, only by water. We have not a fly, moscheto, or bug. I can sit
a whole evening, with open windows and lighted candles, without the
least annoyance from insects; a circumstance which I have never beheld
in any other place. I have not even seen a cockroach.

At Mr. Couper's, besides his family, there are three young ladies,
visitors. One of them arrived about three months ago from France, to
join a brother who had been shipwrecked on this coast, liked the
country so much that he resolved to settle here, and sent for this
sister and a younger brother. About the time of their arrival, the
elder brother was accidentally drowned; the younger went with views to
make an establishment some miles inland, where he now lies dangerously
ill. Both circumstances are concealed from the knowledge of
Mademoiselle Nicholson. In any event, she will find refuge and
protection in the benevolent house of Mr. Couper.

The cotton in this neighbourhood, on the coast southward to the
extremity of Florida, and northward as far as we have heard, has been
totally destroyed. The crop of Mr. C. was supposed to be worth one
hundred thousand dollars, and not an extravagant estimate, for he has
eight hundred slaves. He will not get enough to pay half the expenses
of the plantation. Yet he laughs about it with good humour and without
affectation. Butler suffers about half this loss. Part of his force
had been turned to rice. My travelling companion, secretary, and
aid-de-camp is Samuel Swartwout, the youngest brother of John, a very
amiable young man of twenty or twenty-one.

Now, verily, were it not for the intervention of one hundred miles of
low, swampy, pestiferous country, I would insist on your coming to see
me, all, all! Little _gamp_, and Mademoiselle Sum_tare_, and their
appendages; for they are the principals.

I still propose to visit Florida. To set off in three or four days,
and to return hither about the 16th of September; beyond this I have
at present no plan. It is my wish, God knows how ardently I wish, to
return by land, and pass a week with you; but, being without horses,
and there being no possibility of hiring or buying, the thing seems
scarcely practicable. Two modes only offer themselves--either to
embark in the kind of mail stage which goes from Darien through
Savannah, Augusta, and Columbia, to Camden, or to take a water passage
either to Charleston or Georgetown. Either of these being
accomplished, new difficulties will occur in getting from Statesburgh
northward. I must be at New-York the first week in November. Consult
your husband, and write me of these matters. Enclose to Mr. Roswell
King, which I repeat, lest my former letters should not have been
received. Our mail has just arrived, but has brought me no letter.

I erred a little in my history of the family of Mademoiselle N. There
are still two brothers here. One a man d'une certaine age. Though not
wealthy, they are not destitute of property.

Mr. C. has just now gone with his boat for the dashers who live about
thirty miles southwest on the main. He has requested me to escort
Madame C. on Sunday to his plantation on the south end of this island,
where we are to meet him and his party on Monday, and bring them home
in our coach. Madame C. is still young, tall, comely, and well bred.

I have been studying all the maps and gazetteers to discover the best
access to Statesburgh. Georgetown seems to be the nearest port; but
whether there be thence a direct road, I cannot discover. Does our
friend Doctor Blythe still reside at Georgetown? If so, I should
repose on him for the means of transportation. Desire Mari to write to
him to aid me in case I should take that route. If I should go to
Charleston, meaning to Sullivan's Island, for Charleston I shall at
this season most certainly avoid, I should put myself on General
M'Pherson, who, I hear, is now living there with his family; thence up
the Cooper river, about four miles above the town, is a ferryhouse and
tavern on the north side, and thence by Strawberry, where is the best
tavern in the state, is a very direct and beautiful road, and thence,
according to the maps, a very straight road to the high hills of
Santee. But how to get from that ferryhouse is a question I cannot
resolve. All these circumstances are mentioned that I may have your
advice, meaning that of your husband. And, after all, it is possible
that I may not be able to find a passage either to Charleston or
Georgetown, and so be obliged to sail for New-York. Will close this
letter, for to-morrow it must go to the postoffice at Darien, which is
only about twenty-two miles distant.

September 1.

In one of Mr. Alston's letters he spoke of taking you and A. B. A. to
the mountains; and, in a letter which I wrote him from Philadelphia, I
proposed to meet you in the mountains. Now, for aught which I as yet
know, it will be as easy for me to get to the mountains, or to the
Alps, or the Andes, as to Statesburgh, and therefore, as before, I
crave counsel.

Do yon recollect the second daughter of Mr. Barclay, of Philadelphia,
the sister of Nelly? She has grown up the very image of her sister. I
saw her very often while I was last in Philadelphia. She talked
perpetually of you, and made me promise that I would tell you so.

Adieu, my dear Theodosia. Remember that I have not received a letter
from you since that of the 22d or 25th of July. I forget which was the
date. I have no faith in the climate of your high hills, surrounded as
they are by noxious swamps. God bless and preserve thee.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

St. Simon's, September 3, 1804.

You see me returned from Gaston's Bluff, now called _Hamilton's
Bluff_, a London merchant, partner of Mr. Couper. We were four in the
carriage; the three ladies and myself.

Mr. Morse informs you that this island is forty-five miles long, and
that it lies north of the mouth Altamaha, commonly spelled Alatamaha.
It is, in fact, twelve and a half miles in length, and lies southeast
of that river. Its width is about two and a half miles. There are now
residing on the island about twenty-five white families. Frederica,
now known only by the name of _Old Town_, is on the west side of the
island, and about midway between its northern and southern
extremities. It was first settled by Governor Oglethorpe, and was,
about fifty years ago, a very gay place, consisting of perhaps
twenty-five or thirty houses. The walls of several of them still
remain. Three or four families only now reside here. In the vicinity
of the town several ruins were pointed out to me, as having been,
formerly, country seats of the governor, and officers of the garrison,
and gentlemen of the town. At present, nothing can be more gloomy than
what was once called Frederica. The few families now remaining, or
rather residing there, for they are all new-comers, have a sickly,
melancholy appearance, well assorted with the ruins which surround
them. The southern part of this island abounds with fetid swamps,
which must render it very unhealthy. On the northern half I have seen
no stagnant water.

Mr. Couper, with his escort of ladies, was to have met us this
afternoon, but he has sent us word that he is taken ill on the way;
that, owing to illness in the family of the ladies who were to have
accompanied him, they have been obliged to renounce the visit. We
therefore returned as we went. At Frederica and Gaston's Bluff we were
convinced that insects can subsist on this island. Moschetoes, flies,
and cockroaches abounded.

Thursday, September 6, 1804

Just returned from Darien. And what took you to Darien? To see the
plantation of Mr. Butler on an island opposite that town, and to meet
a day sooner the letters which I expected from you. In the last object
I have been again disappointed, which I ascribe wholly to the
irregularity of the mails. It is most mortifying and vexatious to be
seven weeks without hearing of you or from you, and now a whole week
must elapse before I can expect it.

You are probably ignorant that Darien is a settlement (called a town)
on the north bank of the Alatamaha, about eight miles from its mouth.
Major Butler's Island in this river is one mile below the town. It
must become a fine rice country, for the water is fresh four miles
below Major Butler's, and the tide rises from four to five feet, and
the flats or swamps are from five to seven miles in width for a
considerable distance up the river. The country, of course, presents
no scenes for a painter. I visited Little St. Simon's and several
other islands; frightened the crocodiles, shot some rice-birds, and
caught some trout. Honey of fine flavour is found in great abundance
in the woods about the mouth of the river, and, for aught I know, in
every part of the country. You perceive that I am constantly
discovering new luxuries for my table. Not having been able to kill a
crocodile (alligator), I have offered a reward for one, which I mean
to eat, dressed in soup, fricassees, and steaks. Oh! how you long to
partake of this repast.

Wednesday, September 12, 1804.

On Friday last, hearing that Mr. Couper had returned and was very
seriously ill, I took a small canoe with two boys, and went to see
him. He lay in a high fever. When about to return in the evening, the
wind had risen so that, after an ineffectual attempt, I was obliged to
give it up, and remain at Mr. C.'s. In the morning the wind was still
higher. It continued to rise, and by noon blew a gale from the north,
which, together with the swelling of the water, became alarming. From
twelve to three, several of the out-houses had been destroyed; most of
the trees about the house were blown down. The house in which we were
shook and rocked so much that Mr. C. began to express his
apprehensions for our safety. Before three, part of the piazza was
carried away; two or three of the windows bursted in. The house was
inundated with water, and presently one of the chimneys fell. Mr. C.
then commanded a retreat to a storehouse about fifty yards off, and we
decamped, men, women, and children. You may imagine, in this scene of
confusion and dismay, a good many incidents to amuse one if one had
dared to be amused in a moment of much anxiety. The house, however,
did not blow down. The storm continued till four, and then very
suddenly abated, and in ten minutes it was almost a calm. I seized the
moment to return home. Before I had got quite over, the gale rose from
the southeast and threatened new destruction. It lasted great part of
the night, but did not attain the violence of that from the north; yet
it contributed to raise still higher the water, which was the
principal instrument of devastation. The flood was about seven feet
above the height of an ordinary high tide. This has been sufficient to
inundate great part of the coast; to destroy all the rice; to carry
off most of the buildings which were on low lands, and to destroy the
lives of many blacks. The roads are rendered impassable, and scarcely
a boat has been preserved. Thus all intercourse is suspended. The
mail-boat, which ought to have passed northward last Saturday, and by
which it was intended to forward this letter, has not been heard of.
This will go by a man who will attempt to get from Darien to Savannah
on foot, being sent express by the manager of Major Butler; but how,
or whether it will go on from Savannah, is not imagined.

Major Butler has lost nineteen negroes (drowned), and I fear his whole
crop of rice, being about two hundred and sixty acres. Mr. Brailsford,
of Charleston, who cultivates in rice an island at the mouth of the
Alatamaha, has lost, reports say, seventy-four blacks. The banks and
the buildings on the low lands are greatly injured. We have heard
nothing from the southward, nor farther than from Darien northward. I
greatly fear that this hurricane, so it is here called, has extended
to the Waccama.

The illness of Mr. C., which still continues, and the effects of the
storm, have defeated all my plans. To get to Florida seems now
impracticable; nor do any present means occur of getting from this
island in any direction. Young Swartwout, who went ten days ago to
Savannah, has not returned, nor is it possible that he should very
speedily return. I have not received a letter since my arrival from
any person north of Savannah (yes, one from C. Biddle, of 19th
August), nor do I expect one for many days to come.

I had taken up another sheet to say something more, I know not what;
but the appearance of a fine sheep's-head smoking on the table has
attractions not to be resisted. _Laissez moi diner_, "and then," &c.

_Madame j'ais bien diner_, and _j'ai fait mettre mon_ writing-desk
_sur le table a diner_. What a scandalous thing to sit here all alone
drinking Champagne--and yet--(_madame je bois a votre sante et a celle
de monsieur_ votre fils)--and yet, I say, if Champagne be that
exhilarating cordial which (_je bois a la sante de Madame Sumtare_)
songs and rumour ascribe to it (_a la sante de Mademoiselle Sumtare_),
can there be ever an occasion in which its application could be more
appropriate, or its virtues more (_mais buvons a la sante de mon hote
et bon ami_, Major Butler). By-the-by, you have no idea--how should
you have, seeing that you never heard a word about it?--you have no
idea, I was going to say, of the zeal and animation, of the
intrepidity and frankness with which he avowed and maintained--but I
forget that this letter goes to Savannah by a negro, who has to swim
half a dozen creeks, in one of which, _at least_, it is probable he
may drown, and that, if he escape drowning, various other accidents
may bring it to you through the newspapers, and then how many enemies
might my indiscretion create for a man who had the sensibility and the
honour to feel and to judge, and the firmness to avow (_a la sante de
Celeste un_ bumper toast). _La pauvre Celeste_. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Frederica, St. Simon's, September 15, 1804.

Having very unexpectedly procured a boat, I left my house yesterday
afternoon, came hither by land, and proceed in a few minutes for St.
Mary's. It is possible that I may extend my tour to St. John's, and
even to St. Augustine's; but, if so, it will be very rapid; a mere
flight, for I propose to be at home (Hampton, St. Simon's) again in
eight days.

On the 12th I sent by a special messenger, who was to go from Darien
to Savannah on foot, my journal for the ten or fifteen days preceding,
with some account of the hurricane; but a man this day from Darien
says that our express can by no possibility reach Savannah; for that
every bridge and causeway is destroyed, and the road so filled with
fallen trees as to be utterly impassable. I apprehend that the roads
on the whole coast as far north, at least, as Cape Hatteras, are in
the same condition. If on my return I should receive intelligence
confirming those apprehensions, it will compel me to abandon the hope
of seeing you until the last of February. On this, as on all other
occasions, let me find that you exhibit the firmness which I have been
proud to ascribe to you. Let me hear that you are seriously engaged in
some useful pursuit. Let me see the progressive improvement of your
mind, and it will console me for all the evils of life.

My young friend Swartwout is still absent, and I suppose at Savannah.
It is not probable that I shall see him again before my return to
New-York.

A Mr. Bartram, of Philadelphia, travelled through Georgia and the
Floridas in 1772. His travels are published in one large octavo
volume. Procure and read it, and you will better understand what I may
write you. I promise myself much gratification in this little trip. If
an opportunity should offer for Charleston by water, I shall venture a
letter to you. This will be forwarded before my return; if not, it
will lay here. I am writing to you before sunrise, and am now summoned
to the boat (canoe).

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Hampton, St. Simon's, September 26, 1804.

I returned yesterday from my Florida excursion, about which I wrote
you on the 15th inst. The weather prevented me from going farther than
the river St. John's, about thirty miles from St. Augustine. I have
been making out for you a journal of my tour, but I still entertain a
slight hope of seeing you somewhere within a fortnight; if at all, it
will be by the 10th of October. Pray keep yourselves in readiness to
meet me at Columbia, or still more southward if I should require it.

Not a line from you or your husband since those of the 25th of July.
Your letters have either been lost in the hurricane or are now in the
mail-boat, which, by some mistake, has brought down the Darien mail
and carried it on more southward, so that it will not reach Darien
till I am off; yet I entertain a hope of finding letters at Savannah.

A boat has at length been found to take me to Savannah, and thither I
go to-morrow, or rather set out, for I shall not reach it till the
30th instant. What course I shall take thence will be determined by
what I may hear at that city. You will have a line from me as soon as
I arrive there; meaning always that the line will be written, and sent
on by the first mail, to get to you as soon as it can.

It is a fact that the Spanish ladies smoke segars. They say that a
young lady will take a few puffs and hand it to her favoured lover as
a mark of great kindness. This rumour, however, I cannot verify from
personal observation, much less have I to boast of any such favour.
But we will talk of these things if we should meet; if not, we will
write about them.

I was treated with great kindness and respect at St. Mary's, and have
everywhere experienced the utmost hospitality. My health has been
perfect and uninterrupted. God bless thee.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Savannah, October 1, 1804. Ten o'clock A.M., arrived in a storm
(northeast). They had last evening a minor hurricane here, for the
special use of this city. It overset some canoes, drowned a few
negroes, unroofed some houses, and forced in a few windows. It was the
affair of a few minutes, confined to a small space, and did no other
mischief that I learn.

My last letter to you was from St. Simon's, about the 27th ult., the
day previous to my departure. My voyage hither was full of variety,
and not of the most pleasant kind, but no accident to affect health.
My first reflection on landing was that I was one hundred miles nearer
to you; but my inquiries since my arrival afford no prospect of
getting on by land, except by the purchase of horses, to which there
is one insuperable objection. The condition of the roads has not yet
admitted of travelling northward or westward in a carriage. The mail
goes on horseback.

Not a line from any creature north of this place since I left
Philadelphia. I hear, however, that the Darien mail, which I passed at
Frederica, as mentioned with vexation in my last, had letters for me,
doubtless from you.

I was kindly interrupted in these idle regrets by visitors, who
continued in succession till dinner was announced. At the
lodging-house, where rooms were provided for me, were the governor, a
Scotch merchant, and a sea captain. In the evening a band of music
came under the window, which I supposed to be a compliment to the
governor, till one of the gentlemen who accompanied it came in and
said that a number of citizens at the door wished to see the
vice-president. Interrupted again.

Tuesday, October 2.

Firstly, your pardon is craved for this torn sheet; it was entire when
I commenced, but one half went last night to answer a note, there
being no paper in the house, and Peter abroad with my key. You have
not, I think, been introduced to Peter, my _now_ valet. It is a black
boy purchased last fall. An intelligent, good-tempered, willing
fellow, about fifteen; a dirty, careless dog, who, with the best
intentions, is always in trouble by sins of omission or commission.
The latter through inadvertence, and often through excess of zeal.
About three times a day, sometimes oftener, I get angry enough to
choke him, but his honesty and good-nature prevail. In my will, made
about the 10th of July, I recommend him to you as valet to A.B.A.

I have been this morning scouring the town and the docks in quest of
ways and means to get on. There is a packet which will sail for
Charleston on Saturday; a great way off to one so impatient as the
writer of this. No stage nor a horse to be hired. Finding that the
mail does not close till seven this evening, this letter shall be kept
open till the last moment, and shall not be closed till I have settled
some plan of getting forward, either to Statesburgh or New-York. It
will, I think, be Statesburgh. Six hours hence you shall know. Have
patience, my dear child, for six hours.

Lest I should forget it, let me now tell you that I am received with
the warmest hospitality. Notwithstanding the desolation occasioned by
the hurricane (and it is truly distressing), I have invitations which
it would require weeks to satisfy. These attentions are almost
exclusively from republicans.

Four o'clock P. M.

_Io triumphe!_ A letter; two, three letters. Two from you and one from
your husband. Since writing I have had other good luck; _viz_., two
gentlemen have offered me each an excellent horse to go as far as
Statesburgh by any route I may please. Another horse, and I am made.
Note, my young friend Swartwout is with me, and I cannot well part
with him. If another horse shall be found, I shall take the route
through Orangeburgh, as being the most direct to Statesburgh. If the
land route shall for any reason be found impracticable, I shall take
possession of a Charleston packet, and perhaps take it on to
Georgetown. By one way or the other you shall see me within ten or
twelve days. Tell Mari that his letter being received this afternoon,
and the postmaster having just now sent me word that the mail is about
to close, I can only answer him thus.

You are now to keep your ground and expect me at the hills. Pray let
A.B.A. know that _gamp_ is a black man, otherwise he may be shocked at
the appearance of A.B., who is now about the colour of Peter Yates.
Not brown, but a true quadroon yellow; whether from the effects of
climate, or travelling four hundred miles in a canoe, is no matter.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Fayetteville, October 23, 1804. I get on as usual; arrived here this
forenoon, but detained all day by some trifling repairs to the
carriage. I promised you a journal in the manner of modern travels, to
show you how such books could be made without facts or ideas. My first
four days, to wit, from Statesburgh to this place, would, I find, from
notes which I have actually taken, make about one hundred pages, and
two hundred in the manner of Rochefoucault d'Liancourt; but the labour
of so much writing has alarmed and almost discouraged me.

No more pauses, not even for weather, till Richmond, distant two
hundred miles, and proposed to be travelled in five days. I know no
person in this place but Mr. Grove, late member of Congress, who has
not called on me. Tell your husband that I have heard nothing worthy
of being communicated. Since I began to write it has begun to rain, as
if to test my determination not to be stopped by weather. Adieu, chere
T.

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