Mrs. Eleanor Coffin.
Salem, September 9, 1802.
My Dearest Mother:
Once more I am safe in Salem and my first thoughts turn toward home. I
arrived last night. The attention I have received from Mr. and Mrs.
Derby has been of a kind that I shall look forward with delight to a
time when I may be able to return it as I wish. I am in perfect health
and spirits and have enjoyed the journey more than I can express to you.
I don’t know that I have had an unpleasant hour since I have been gone,
and what is still more pleasing, I look back on every scene without
regret or pain. At Leicester I went to Uncle Southgate’s, and Cousin
William helped me into the carriage when I left the tavern the next
morning. We did not return thro’ North-Hampton, and I consequently
missed seeing Aunt Dickenson. I regret it extremely, but Mr. Derby was
in such haste to return, that he left us at Worcester and took the
stage. I therefore could not say a word of Hadley. I found two letters
from Octavia on my return here; felt really grieved at Eliza Wait’s
death; she must feel it sensibly as they were such intimate friends, yet
time blunts the sharp pangs of affection, and when I return she will
feel that happiness has only fled for a while to make its return more
delightful. I have received more attentions at the Springs than in my
whole life before, I know not why it was, but I went under every
advantage. Mr. Derby is so well known and respected, and they are such
charming people and treated me with so much affection, it could not be
otherwise! Among the many gentlemen I have become acquainted and who
have been attentive, one I believe is serious. I know not, my dearest
Mother, how to introduce this subject, yet as I fear you may hear it
from others and feel anxious for my welfare, I consider it a duty to
tell you all. At Albany, on our way to Ballston, we put up at the same
house with a _Mr. Bowne_ from New York; he went on to the Springs the
same day we did, and from that time was particularly attentive to me; he
was always of our parties to ride, went to Lake George in company with
us, and came on to Lebanon when we did,—for 4 weeks I saw him every day
and probably had a better opportunity of knowing him than if I had seen
him as a common acquaintance in town for years. I felt cautious of
encouraging his attentions, tho’ I did not wish to _discourage_
it,—there were so many _New Yorkers_ at the Springs who knew him
perfectly that I easily learnt his character and reputation; he is a man
of _business_, uniform in his conduct and _very much respected_; all
this we knew from report. Mr. and Mrs. Derby were very much pleased with
him, but conducted towards me with peculiar _delicacy_, left me entirely
to myself, as on a subject of so much importance they scarcely dared
give an opinion. I left myself in a situation truly embarrassing. At
such a distance from all my friends,—my Father and Mother a perfect
stranger to the person,—and prepossessed in his favor as much as so
short an acquaintance would sanction,—his conduct was such as I shall
ever reflect on with the greatest pleasure,—open, candid, generous, and
delicate. He is a man in whom I could place the most unbounded
confidence, nothing rash or impetuous in his disposition, but weighs
maturely every circumstance; he knew I was not at liberty to encourage
his addresses without the approbation of my Parents, and appeared as
solicitous that I should act with strict propriety as one of my most
disinterested friends. He advised me like a friend and would not have
suffered me to do anything improper. He only required I would not
discourage his addresses till he had an opportunity of making known to
my Parents his character and wishes—this I promised and went so far as
to tell him I approved him as far as I knew him, but the decision must
rest with my Parents, their wishes were my law. He insisted upon coming
on immediately: that I absolutely refused to consent to. But all my
persuasion to wait till winter had no effect; the first of October he
_will come_. I could not prevent it without a positive _refusal_; this I
felt no disposition to give. And now, my dearest Mother, I submit myself
wholly to the wishes of my Father and you, convinced that my happiness
is your warmest wish, and to promote it has ever been your study. That I
feel deeply interested in Mr. Bowne I candidly acknowledge, and from the
knowledge I have of his heart and character I think him better
calculated to promote my happiness than any person I have yet seen; he
is a firm, steady, serious man, nothing light or trifling in his
character, and I have every reason to think he has well weighed his
sentiments towards me,—nothing rash or premature. I have referred him
wholly to you, and you, my dearest Parents, must decide. Octavia
mentioned nothing about moving, but I am extremely anxious to know how
soon we go into Portland and what house we shall have. Write me
immediately on the subject, and let me know if you approve my conduct.
Mr. Bowne wishes me to remain here until he comes on and then let him
carry me home: this I objected to, but will depend on your advice. I
shall be obliged to stay a few weeks longer,—Harriet Howards expects me
a week in Cambridge, Mrs. Sumner a week in Boston, and Mrs. Hasket Derby
another week. I am now with Ellen and shall stay till Mrs. Coffin comes
up, then according to promise go to Mrs. Lucy Derby’s. I feel extremely
anxious to hear you have moved into town, and shall most probably be
here until then; write me immediately. If you wish any furniture, Mrs.
Sumner will assist me in purchasing whatever you wish. I mentioned in my
letter, when I set out on this journey I borrowed 15 dollars of Ellen; I
wish you to send it to me immediately after receiving this, if you have
not already sent it. I shall likewise stand in need of a little, as I
have unavoidably incurred many expenses in this journey which I should
not otherwise have done. Mr. Derby has loaded me with obligations, all
my expenses he defrayed as if I was his daughter, and in such a manner
as endears him more than I can express. You cannot imagine how
interested they both are in the subject I have been writing you upon,—my
nearest friends cannot feel more, they have witnessed the whole
progress, and if you knew them, would be convinced they would not have
let me act improperly, they both approve my conduct. I wish my Father
would write to Mr. Derby and know what he says of Mr. B.’s character. I
don’t know but ’tis a subject too delicate to give his opinion, but I
can conceive that my Father might request it without any impropriety;
and do, my Dear Mother, beg him to say any thing in his power to
convince him that we all feel sensibly their great attention to me. You
know not how anxious I feel for my Father to write him something of that
kind, not that they appear to expect it, but on the contrary insist that
they have been more obliged than I have, and really seem to think so;
but this rather strengthens than lessens the obligation, nothing should
have induced me to receive such from people who felt they were
conferring favors. I long to hear when we move into Portland, _do_ write
me. My best love to Horatio and Octavia, and tell them I shall write as
soon as possible. I found a large packet of 5 sheets from Martha, dated
Paris, June 28th; tells me every thing, speaks almost in raptures of
Buonaparte, says Uncle Rufus has a little son[42] about 12 years old at
school there, one of the finest boys she ever saw. I find most of the
Southern people whom we met at the Springs, think Uncle Rufus stands as
good a chance of being President as any one spoken of. I have listened
for hours to his praises when not one knew how much I was interested; it
was known from Mrs. Derby I was his niece, and it really gave me great
consequence. I thought of Mrs. Dewitt and laughed. Judge Sedgwick told
me had letters from him as late as June, and that he was determined on
returning in the Spring. I long to hear from home. My love to all my
friends, and believe me, with every sentiment of _duty_ and _affection_,
Your daughter ELIZA.
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