My dearest Friend,--I hear the _Alliance_ is again going to France, with
the Marquis de la Fayette and the Count de Noailles. I will not envy the
Marquis the pleasure of annually visiting his family, considering the
risk he runs in doing it; besides, he deserves the good wishes of every
American, and a large portion of the honors and applause of his own
country. He returns with the additional merit of laurels won at Yorktown
by the capture of a whole British army. America may boast that she has
accomplished what no power before her ever did, contending with
Britain,--captured two of their celebrated generals, and each with an
army of thousands of veteran troops to support them. This event, whilst
it must fill Britain with despondency, will draw the Union already
framed still closer and give us additional allies; and, if properly
improved, will render a negotiation easier and more advantageous to
America.
But I cannot reflect much upon public affairs until I have unburdened
the load of my own heart. Where shall I begin my list of grievances? Not
by accusations, but lamentations. My first is that I do not hear from
you; a few lines only, dated in April and May, have come to hand for
fifteen months. You do not mention receiving any from me except by
Captain Casneau, though I wrote by Colonel Laurens, by Captain Brown, by
Mr. Storer, Dexter, and many others; to Bilbao by Trask, and several
times by way of France. You will refer me to Gillon, I suppose. Gillon
has acted a base part, of which, no doubt, you are long ere now
apprised. You had great reason to suppose that he would reach America as
soon or sooner than the merchant vessels, and placed much confidence in
him by the treasure you permitted to go on board of him. Ah, how great
has my anxiety been! What have I not suffered since I heard my dear
Charles was on board, and no intelligence to be procured of the vessel
for four months after he sailed. Most people concluded that she was
foundered at sea, as she sailed before a violent storm. Only three weeks
ago did I hear the contrary. My uncle dispatched a messenger, the moment
a vessel from Bilbao arrived with the happy tidings that she was safe at
Corunna; that the passengers had all left the ship in consequence of
Gillon's conduct, and were arrived at Bilbao. The vessel sailed the day
that the passengers arrived at Bilbao, so that no letters came by
Captain Lovett; but a Dr. Sands reports that he saw a child, who they
told him was yours, and that he was well. This was a cordial to my
dejected spirits. I know not what to wish for. Should he attempt to come
at this season upon the coast, it has more horrors than I have
fortitude. I am still distressed; I must resign him to the kind,
protecting hand of that Being who hath hitherto preserved him, and
submit to whatever dispensation is allotted me.
What is the matter with Mr. Thaxter? Has he forgotten all his American
friends, that, out of four vessels which have arrived, not a line is to
be found on board of one of them from him? I could quarrel with the
climate, but surely, if it is subject to the ague, there is a fever fit
as well as a cold one. Mr. Guild tells me he was charged with letters,
but left them, with his other things, on board the frigate. She gave him
the slip and he stepped on board of Captain Brown's ship, and happily
arrived safe. From him I have learned many things respecting my dear
connections; but still I long for that free communication which I see
but little prospect of obtaining. Let me again entreat you to write by
way of Gardoqui. Bilbao is as safe a conveyance as I know of. Ah, my
dear John! where are you? In so remote a part of the globe, that I fear
I shall not hear a syllable from you. Pray write me all the intelligence
you get from him; send me his letters to you. Do you know I have not had
a line from him for a year and a half? Alas! my dear, I am much
afflicted with a disorder called the _heartache_, nor can any remedy be
found in America. It must be collected from Holland, Petersburg, and
Bilbao.
And now, having recited my griefs and complaints, the next in place are
those of my neighbors. I have been applied to by the parents of several
Braintree youth to write to you in their behalf, requesting your aid and
assistance, if it is in your power to afford it. Captain Cathcart, in
the privateer _Essex_, from Salem, went out on a cruise last April in
the Channel of England, and was, on the 10th of June, so unfortunate as
to be taken and carried into Ireland. The officers were confined there,
but the sailors were sent prisoners to Plymouth jail, twelve of whom are
from this town, a list of whom I inclose. The friends of these people
have received intelligence by way of an officer who belonged to the
_Protector_, and who escaped from the jail, that in August last they
were all alive, several of them very destitute of clothing, having taken
but a few with them and those for the summer, particularly Ned Savil and
Job Field. Their request is, that, if you can, you would render them
some assistance; if not by procuring an exchange, that you would get
them supplied with necessary clothing. I have told them that you would
do all in your power for them, but what that would be, I could not say.
Their friends here are all well, many of them greatly distressed for
their children, and in a particular manner the mother of Josiah Bass. I
wish you to be very particular in letting me know, by various
opportunities and ways after the receipt of this, whether you have been
able to do anything for them, that I may relieve the minds of these
distressed parents. The Captain got home about three months ago by
escaping to France, but could give no account of his men after they were
taken.
Two years, my dearest friend, have passed away since you left your
native land. Will you not return ere the close of another year? I will
purchase you a retreat in the woods of Vermont, and retire with you from
the vexations, toils, and hazards of public life. Do you not sometimes
sigh for such a seclusion? Public peace and domestic happiness;--
"An elegant sufficiency, content,
Retirement, rural quiet; friendship, books,
Ease and alternate labor; useful life,
Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven."
May the time, the happy time, soon arrive when we may realize these
blessings, so elegantly described by Thomson; for, though many of our
countrymen talk in a different style with regard to their intentions,
and express their wishes to see you in a conspicuous point of view in
your own State, I feel no ambition for a share of it. I know the voice
of fame to be a mere weather-cock, unstable as water and fleeting as a
shadow. Yet I have pride; I know I have a large portion of it.
I very fortunately received, by the _Apollo_, by the _Juno_, and by the
_Minerva_, the things you sent me, all in good order. They will enable
me to do, I hope, without drawing upon you, provided I can part with
them; but money is so scarce and taxes so high that few purchasers are
found. Goods will not double, yet they are better than drawing bills, as
these cannot be sold but with a large discount. I could not get more
than ninety for a hundred dollars, should I attempt it.
I shall inclose an invoice to the house of Ingraham and Bromfield, and
one to De Neufville. There is nothing from Bilbao that can be imported
to advantage. Handkerchiefs are sold here at seven dollars and a half
per dozen. There are some articles which would be advantageous from
Holland, but goods there run high, and the retailing vendues, which are
tolerated here, ruin the shopkeepers. The articles put up by the
American house were better in quality for the price than those by the
house of De Neufville. Small articles have the best profit; gauze,
ribbons, feathers, and flowers, to make the ladies gay, have the best
advance. There are some articles, which come from India, I should
suppose would be lower-priced than many others,--Bengals, nankeens,
Persian silk, and bandanna handkerchiefs; but the house of Bromfield
know best what articles will suit here. I have been fortunate and
unfortunate. The things which came with Jones remain at Philadelphia
yet.
Our friends here are all well. Your mother is in rather better health,
and my father is yet sprightly. Believe me, with more affection than
words can express, ever, ever yours,