Journal and correspondence of Miss Adams, daughter of John Adams, second president of the United States. Written in France and England, in 1785

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JOURNAL

AND

CORRESPONDPJNCE

Miss ADAMS,

DAUGHTER OF JOHN ADAMS,

of t&e Sanfteti States.

WRITTEN IN FKANCE AND ENGLAND, IN 1785.

EDITED BY HER DAUGHTER.

NEW-YORK & LONDON:

WILEY AND PUTNAM,
1841.

E 503.

v. >

Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by

I. P. DE WlNDT,

Fn the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the
Southern District of New- York.

NEW- YORK :

Hopkins & Jennings, Printers,
lllFulton-stieet.

TO

JOHN aUINCY ADAMS,

EX-PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

Around their memory, dear to us all,

Doth cling remembrances

Sacred ; all powerful,

And lasting as the soul's immortality.

804110

PREFACE.

THE following Journal, from which these ex
tracts are taken, was written at the same period
with the letters of Mrs. Adams, (lately published,)
by her only daughter, principally previous to her
marriage.

A few letters are added, from Mr. and Mrs.
Adams to their grandaughter.

The Editor being desirous to preserve the
Journal and Letters for her children, still more
so, that they should understand the extent and
strength of that affection with which their mother
was honoured by the writers, presents them with
a copy in print.

"This is the prerogative of the noblest natures
that their departure to higher regions exercises
a no less blessed influence than did their abode
on earth ; that they lighten us from above, like
stars by which to steer our course, often inter
rupted by storms ; that those to whom we turned
in life as the beneficent, the helpful, now attract
our longing, aspiring glance, as the perfected, the
blessed."

For the sketch of the landscape, the Editor is
indebted to Miss Gtuincy of Cambridge, Mass.

C. A. de W.
Cedar Grove, JV. Y., July, 1841.

CONTENTS.

Page.

Introductory Remarks, vii

Introductory Letter, 3

Journal, 7

Lines addressed to a Portrait, 97

Letter from Mr. J. Q. Adams, 89

Memoir of W. S. Smith, 99

Twenty-four letters from Col. to Mrs. Smith, . . 125

Letters from John Adams to his daughter, . . 202

Letters from Mrs. Adams to her grandaughter, . . 209

Letters from John Adams to his grandaughter, . . 239

Letter from Judge Vanderkemp to Mrs. de Windt, . 243

Letter from John Adams to his grandaughter, . . 245

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

ABIGAIL ADAMS, the oldest child and only surviving daugh
ter of John Adams, was born at Braintree, in Massachusetts,
14th July, 1765; she was carried to church in a chaise,
and baptized the day she was born, according to the custom of
those times.

In the early part of her life she shared the domestic duties
and cheered the retirement of her mother, during the years
of absence which the public cares of her father enforced
upon him. He expressed to the editor, at the age of 90,
while recalling and reflecting upon the events of the past, in
these words, his painful recollection of the separations he
had been called upon to endure : " At this time it seems to
me to have been wicked to have left such a wife and such a
family as I did, but it was done in the service of my country."

The daughter was cherished and beloved by an intimate
circle of youthful friends. Among them an early use of the
pen, and the pleasures of epistolary intercourse were culti
vated ; the young persons being in the habit of preparing
their letters during the week, taking them to church on Sun
day, and exchanging them. Two of the most intimate and
valued friends of Miss Adams were the daughter of the Rev.
Jonathan Mayhew, afterwards married to Mr. Waimvright,
and Miss Elizabeth Quincy, afterwards Mrs. Guild. These
attachments continued uninterrupted, and were a source of
much happiness throughout their lives.

Vlll INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

At the age of eighteen Miss Adams accompanied her moth
er to Europe — she had changed, in the years that had passed,
since her father had left her in America. In the journal of this
date she writes thus : " London, Aug. 7th, 1784. At 12, re
turned to our own apartments ; when I entered, I saw upon the
table a hat with two books in it ; every thing around appeared
altered, without my knowing in what particular. I went into
my own room, the things were moved ; I looked around —
• Has mamma received letters, that have determined her de
parture ] — When does she go T— Why are these things
moved V All in a breath to Esther. ' No, ma'm, she has re-
cieved no letter, but goes to-morrow morning.' * Why is
all this appearance of strangeness? — Whose hat is that in
the other room 1 — Whose trunk is this ] — Whose sword
and cane 1 — It is my father's,' said I. « Where is he V 'In
the room above.' Up I flew, and to his chamber, where he
was lying down, he raised himself upon my knocking softly at
the door, and received me with all the tenderness of an af
fectionate parent after so long an absence. Sure I am, I
never felt more agitation of spirits in my life ; it will not do
to describe."

The next day commenced the journey to Paris, with which
the journal in the present volume opens.

At a later period, Aug. 1785, the journal states — " Friday,
26th. Papa having invited Count Sarsefield to dine with him
to-day, we were obliged to refuse an invitation from Mr. and
Mrs. Smith, at Clapham ; the Count came, and was as usual
in spirits, and good company. Mr. Bartlemmy, the French
Charge d* Affaires was invited, and came ; he seemed to be
well enough in mind, manners, and appearance, civil, not
gallant, sociable, not talkative, modest, not forward ; he is
passing well. Two other gentlemen dined with us ; they
were young men ; and nothing passed in four hours to be
related here."

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. IX

" Saturday 27th. A fine morning. Eugenic came to
breakfast. Mamma desired me to be dressed ; she was
going out to make some visits ; I obeyed. I seldom resist
commands, however my will may be for it. We went out at
12 ; the coachman was ordered to go to Hackney ; we were
to visit Mrs. J . No, it is not pride — it is not vanity

— 'tis no unworthy principle which would prevent me, had
I a will to follow, from making such visits, but I would make
no acquaintance for which I had not some good reason ; 1
do not love that kind of intercourse where no one affection of
the heart has any share ; I would treat every one with civility

— lay myself under as few obligations as possible, to those
whom 1 could rank as friends — I would always act from
the heart ; every attention to such 1 should esteem myself
gratified in paying ; but the unmeaning intercourse of a great
portion of mankind, I must acknowledge, I have but little
taste for ; perhaps 1 am wrong — it is only an opinion — it
may be founded upon wrong principles ; I am open to con
viction ; and whenever my sentiments change, I shall not be
adverse to acknowledge it. When we came into town, we

left cards at the Baroness , to return a visit made us

in the same way, and called upon my Lady Effingham, but
she was not at home ; returned home, dined alone ; read
Shakspeare after dinner. Papa purchased his works this
morning, upon my saying I had never read them. I discover
a thousand traits of softness, delicacy, and sensibility in this
excellent man's character. I was once taught to fear his
virtues ; happy am I that I find them rather to love, grown
up into life unknown to him, and ignorant of him. I had been
taught to think him severe, and as he would demand my obe
dience, I found him far otherwise ; he never demanded of me
even an acquiescence to his wishes, but left me to follow my
own, in the most important concerns of life. How amiable —
how respectable — how worthy of every token of my atten-

X INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

tion, has this conduct rendered a parent — a father — to whom
we feel due even a resignation of our opinions ! How many
are there who usurp the power Nature has given them a
right to use, and who act rather as tyrants over their families
than as parents of their children ; how much is the want of
this gentleness, delicacy, and sensibility observed in that
sex, whose worth and amiability of character depends upon
the possession of it. How many ladies, within my knowledge,
who do not possess one iota of either ; but, adieu to the sub
ject."

" To-day, agreeably to invitation, we went to dine with
Dr. Jebb ; our company was not large, and no ladies but
mamma and myself. Had I never seen Mrs. Jebb, I believe
I should have said upon entering the door, the lady of this
house is a politicianess, or something else — there was an air
through the whole that I thought discovered it. The com
pany were all there when we went. Dr. Brokelsly, a moderate
Englishman, is said to be a sensible man, great in his pro
fession, and learned. A Mr. Ashley, a violent, prejudiced
Englishman, no enemy to America I should suppose, but
entirely ignorant of the arrangements there during the late
war, as indeed every person here seems to be ; whether it
has been the policy of people in power to preserve this ignor
ance I do not know, but they all attribute the want of suc
cess to their generals. If Sir William Howe had done so
and so, you would never have gained your independence. I
never pretend to understand politics, but I cannot but smile
to hear these people talk ; it appears to me they judge with
out foundation, and give their opinions through ignorance.
This gentleman was also a most violent enemy to the French ;
he could bear to see America rising, but he could not sub
mit to see that nation at peace ; he was sometimes so violent
that I did not know where it would end. Papa endeavoured
to be silent, but sometimes he would get warmed, and who

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. XI

could avoid it, to hear so much ignorance and error asserted
as truth?"

1785. " The thread has broke, and I have to begin again ;
it is in vain attempting to join it where I last left it, for I find
it impossible. Some events have taken place respecting
myself, in which, perhaps, my future happiness may be in
terested; I have one consolation, the perfect rectitude of my
intentions. To that Being, under whose guidance I would
fain believe all our actions to be, I must submit, and leave
the events ; Heaven grant they may prove propitious to my
happiness and peace."

At this period Miss Adams married Colonel Smith, who
was the Secretary to the American Legation, at London.
Here we must refer again to the journal. "June, 1787.
The afternoon being very fine, mamma and myself rode to
Kensington Gardens, and took a long walk ; it was more like
an American day than any I recollect in this country ; the
presence of my friend was only wanting to have rendered it
perfectly pleasing ; his society has enlivened every scene for
the last twelve months ; cheerfulness and good humour he has
ever promoted, and it is always accompanied with strict pro
priety, delicacy, and purity of actions and manners ; it is, in
short, all that my fondest wishes could paint, as lovely and
engaging ; the more I reflect upon it the more I am satis
fied, and the more I am induced to regret this temporary
separation, which is the first, and from my heart I hope it
may be the last I shall ever have to regret."

After returning and residing a few years in America, they
revisited Europe ; upon their return, passed some years in
the city of New- York.

Mrs. Smith died at Quincy, 14th August, 1813, at the age
of 48. She expressed her gratitude that she had been per
mitted to close her days in the mansion of her father, sur
rounded by her venerable parents, her husband, children, and
dearest relatives.

Xii INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.

" She possessed a mind firm, cultivated, and delicate ; a
temper gentle and sweet; a spirit composed in difficulty, pa
tient in suffering, humble in prosperity, cheerful in adversity ;
a demeanour chastened and regulated by clear perceptions of
duly and a high sense of propriety. As a child, exemplary for
filial reverence ; as a wife, for conjugal tenderness ; as a moth
er, for parental affection. Forgetful of herself, and studious of
the happiness of others, it was the effort of her being to
please and to support, to comfort and to bless. Her death,
in unison with such a life, was full of resignation and hope."*

Among various consolatory letters addressed to Mr. and
Mrs. Adams upon the death of their daughter, the following
extract comprises all that need be said.

" If such are my feelings for a child cut off before the
day-star of intelligence could have arisen to announce the
dawn of reason in her soul, what must be those of a mother
for one, in whom the mind was at its highest noon, clear as
the day, and unsullied as the light of heaven 1"

;<Her days were short, and checkered o'er
With joy and sorrow's mingled store,

And fortune's treacherous game —
But never since Creation's hour,
Sent forth from Heaven's almighty power,

A purer spirit came !"f

* From an obituary notice by President Quincy.
t Extract from a letter of Mr. J. Q. Adams.

JOURNAL AND LETTERS.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

The Hague, 17 July, 1784.
MY DEAR DAUGHTEB:

WITH the tenderest emotions of a father's heart,
I congratulate you on your agreeable voyage, and
happy arrival ; and hope that your journeys in
Europe, and your returning voyage to your own
country, will be equally prosperous.

At your age, travels are pleasing and instruc
tive. But that you may be able to derive the full
benefit from them, let me recommend to you to
keep a journal.

I have never had influence enough with your
brother to prevail upon him to attend to this exer
cise, as pleasant as it is useful. But the punish
ment of this negligence is certain ; if he lives
sixty years, he will spend them all in continual
repentance, and self-reproaches. A regular jour
nal of his travels would be very valuable.

4 INTRODUCTORY LETTER.

I cannot reproach myself, because my eyes
have made it impracticable. With the utmost
difficulty have I performed the writing, which
my public duty required of me : and I may add,
that my head and heart have been so occupied
with necessary business, that objects of curiosity,
and even the -fine arts, had few attractions for
'une. ', / ". :•: • ;

Your case and4 -that of your brother are very
: &J9pflBiik: ..Ju»* travel ling with me, through the
butch and Austrian Low Countries to France,
you will have a great opportunity.

In London you see one of those enormous
masses of human nature, which exhibit to view
its utmost extremes of grandeur and littleness, of
virtues and vices, of wisdom and folly. In Paris
you will see another ; and all along between
them, are countries and cities which will deserve
your attention.

I need not say to you, that the end of travel, as
well as study, is not the simple gratification of
curiosity, or to enable one to shine in conversa
tion, but to make us wiser and better.

The British Museum, Sir Ashton Lever's
Museum, Wedgwood's Manufactory of Earthen
Ware, Parker's Manufactory of Glass, I saw with
great pleasure. You cannot see Mrs. Siddons, as
she is absent. Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul's
Church you should see.

INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 5

But I presume you will not be long in England
after your brother's arrival.

Hasten, my dear girl, as much as you can with
prudence, to your affectionate father,

JOHN ADAMS.
Miss A. ADAMS,

London.

1*

JOURNAL.

London, Adelphi Hotel, 1784.

WE are impatiently awaiting the arrival of let
ters to determine our course, whether to France
or the Hague.

August 8th. After two hour's preparation, papa,
mamma, myself and brother, in our own car
riage, H. and B. our two servants, sat out from
the Adelphi Hotel, so wretchedly equipped with
horses, that they could carry us no farther than
Westminster bridge; here they refused to go, and
the resolution of the post-boys was exerted to no
purpose ; they were obliged to obtain others : at
Deal we made our last change of horses, turned
into the road to Dover where we arrived at 2
o'clock. The road from Canterbury to Dover is
very mountainous and the poorest I have seen in
the country ; the appearance of cultivation is
much the same as in other spots ; there is a rich
ness and elegance in the landscape that is very

8 JOURNAL.

beautiful. At 3 we went on board the boat for
Deal; we landed at 6 the next morning — we had
some servants from every public house, or every
master with offers of accommodation. We came
to Monsieur Destaing's Hotel, the very place made
famous by Yorick ; in this yard he wrote his pre
face to his journey, and perhaps in one of these

disobligeants, he met Madame De , and here

is the very Monk, that gave his benediction to
our writer, and who has just passed my window to
present himself to papa. I do not think he is
quite so respectable a figure, as the one that ac
costed Yorick. At 12 we dined ; we had a va
riety, but not in a style so agreeable to me as the
English. At two, we set off from Monsieur Des
taing's Hotel, on a journey of two hundred miles.
The laws of this country are such as oblige every
person who travels in a coach, to make use of six
horses. We were equipped with six horses for
our carriage, and a cabriolet with three horses,
for our two servants. The harness is not supe
rior in any respect, to what we use in America for
our carts and ploughs ; however, it is such as
every person travels with, and there is no better.
I have not learnt the why and the wherefore, that
we travel in this way. and exchange horses at
every post, which is a distance of six miles, or
sometimes a post and a half, or two post at a time.
On Tuesday we travelled four posts after dinner,

JOURNAL. 9

and lodged at Boulogne, a small village, the Inn
kept by an English family. The house was not as
much Anglaise as I could have wished. There is
certainly a great difference in favour of Eng
land ; the country is by no means equal to it ; the
soil does not appear so rich and luxuriant, or so well
cultivated ; the villages are the most wretched of
all the habitations of man ; it is not one time in
ten that I have seen a glass window, nothing but
wood. We dined in our carriage ; mamma and
myself were not out of it from six in the morn
ing, until four in the afternoon.

The country is much varied ; in some places
you see a great appearance of cultivation and im
provement, in others you have a fine prospect of
the country around, and some very fine scenes
of natural beauty ; in others, it appears like a bar
ren uncultivated spot. There is the appearance
of more industry here than in England, by the
flocks of men, women and children that are out
in the fields at their labours ; whole families,
whole towns, I should suppose by their numbers,
some reaping and gathering in the fruits of the
year, while others were preparing the ground,
sowing the seed for a future crop. The country
bears to-day a more pleasing aspect than yester
day ; the villages are by no means superior, such
places I never saw before, or the like unto them.
The streets are very narrow and dirty, the houses

10 JOURNAL.

low and heavy ; the outside seems to be of a kind
of clay, and the roofs are covered with thatch ; it
has a heavy appearance. The difference is not
more striking in any other object, than in the
countenances of the people. The English seem
formed for some exertion in almost any way we
should choose ; but these people do not appear
sensible to any passions or affections whatever.
The difference is striking in the postillions. The
English have a sprightliness and alertness suitable
to the employment ; but in these, there is a heavi
ness, dirtiness, and no elasticity. We passed
through Montrieul ; this place is made famous to
every one who has read Yorick's Journey. I regret
that I have it not with me — I should read it with
more pleasure now than ever before, as we are to
pass through every place which he describes.
Some of the villages are superior to others, but all
are very miserable.

To-day we have been obliged to travel fourteen
posts, eighty-seven miles, in order to arrive at a
place where we could be accommodated with lodg
ing ; it was 9 o'clock before we stopped for the night,
which was at Amiens. The laws of this nation
are so severe as to oblige every one who enters it
to follow their customs in every thing, particularly
in dress, or they render themselves ridiculous.
For this reason, every kind of article which they
manufacture themselves, is prohibited from enter-

JOURNAL. 11

ing the kingdom without paying a duty. To
prevent this these are custom-house officers almost
at every town, who demand a search of your
baggage, although it consist only of your own
private clothes. But it is very seldom that they
will not be satisfied with half a crown, instead of
being a farther trouble to you. Whether the
duties of their office are performed by this means,
I do not know ; but it is more agreeable to every
one, than to submit to the inconvenience of the
law. We have been stopped several times, but
always found them ready to be bought.

At Chantilla, twenty-seven miles from Paris,
we visited the seat of the Prince ofConde. First,
to the kennel of dogs whicri the Prince keeps for
hunting — there are two hundred or more.
Could I have borne to look at them, it would not
have been an agreeable sight; but the effluvia
was such as rendered it very disagreeable to be
near the apartment.

We went next to see the stables, which were in
the same building. This was a long range,
where there were more than two hundred horses ;
an hundred on each side, with their names over
each manger. We walked through the stable
from one door to the other ; one of the grooms
cams up to mamma and myself with a little stick
in his hand, and presented to each one ; upon
which papa gave him a crown. I should have

12 JOURNAL.

thought it very strange ; but at breakfast papa told
us that he had been accosted in the same way
from having his gloves on and no cane in his
hand. It is a custom, I suppose, to request your
remembrance — a point I find that no one in Eu
rope is fearful of asking. I am told that the
Prince sometimes sups with his horses, and pas
ses two or three hours with his dogs ; rather an
uncivilized taste I think.

We were shown next the theatre, in which he
acts himself for the entertainment of his friends
and family ; he has a daughter who plays like
wise. As it belongs to him, and he has the pow
er of regulating it, I do not think it amiss ; it is an
elegant building ; I saw but little of the scenery,
it did not appear to me equal to the English.
He resides at this castle from November to Janu
ary ; any strangers who are in town he invites to
his plays. We saw the dressing-room of the
Princess, his daughter, and some other apart
ments ; then we went to the armoury, which was
like that in the tower, but so very inferior, it scarce
deserves remark. Next, to the gardens — about 20
acres — there is a great variety here ; a canal full
of fish, the water supplied by a river. Here were
groves and arbours, walks and windings, woods
and vales, banks and rivers ; fountains playing, arid
statues, flowers, and shrubs. Here was the car
of Venus drawn by doves ; the statue of Cupid,

JOURNAL. 13

with a motto in French, representing the pursuit
of love ineffectual. At the end of one of the
gardens, was thePavillion of Venus, a room eight
feet square ; the furniture was of chintz, chairs,
and settee, and curtains. The floors were like all
the floors in this country. Excepting in the floors,
there was an air of elegance in all the buildings,
that I have not seen even here in Paris. There
were four fountains in the room ; at the end, a
door opened into a small gallery, which was over
the canal. There were a number of paintings, but
they were not in a style that pleased me. We next
visited the English garden, as it is called ; this
consists of islands and groves, grottoes and bow
ers ; but I could not see any material difference.
In one part there was a representation of a cot
tage, and every thing in unison around. There
was a mill with a plough, and every utensil for a
farmer ; one apartment, in which there was every
thing for a kitchen ; all perfectly neat. In another
little apartment was a library. The next build
ing, they told us, was the barn ; it had the ap
pearance, on the outside, of a little dirty place,
with old windows and little doors, with every ap
pearance of rustic simplicity — when, to our sur
prise, we were shown into an elegant apartment,
with pictures and paintings ; the furniture of pink
silk, trimmed with a deep, rich silver fringe and
tassels ; in the centre was a table with a set of
2

14 JOURNAL.

Sevres China — white, with a gilt edge. We were
shown, also, some buildings in the Chinese style.
The whole was exceedingly beautiful ; but as we
ever draw degrees of comparison between what we
now see, and what we have seen, I could not but
give the preference to Pope's garden at Twicken
ham, over every thing I have yet examined.

We have taken a house at Auteuil, near Paris,
very large and very inconvenient — about fifty
little apartments, so small, most of them, as to be
inconvenient for lodging. There is a large room
to receive company in, and a dining-room ; all
the bed-rooms are above stairs. There is a spa
cious garden.

15th. This day, by invitation, we dined with
Mr. Barclay, in a friendly way, without form qr
ceremony. Mr. Jefferson and daughter dined
with us, and two gentlemen who were not to be
known. The dinner was in the French style ;
there is no such thing here as preserving our
taste in any thing ; we must all sacrifice to cus
tom and fashion. I will not believe it possible to
do otherwise ; for my papa, with his firmness arid
resolution, is a perfect convert to the mode in
every thing, at least of dress and appearance. Mrs.
B. is a fine woman ; the more I see of her, the
greater is my approbation of her. She has a firm
hold of my heart, from her kindness and attention
to my father, when he was sick of the fever last

JOURNAL. 15

fall ; I shall ever feel a grateful remembrance of
her goodness.

16th. Papa's friends, the three abbes, came
to pay their respects to us. They insisted upon
it, that I should talk French with them ; and I
am inclined to believe that I should learn more
French from their great solicitude to converse,
than in any other way.

21st August. This morning, mamma, myself,
and my brother, went into Paris — on our way
made a call on Madame Grand, to return a visit
made us on Thursday. She was dressing, and
not to be seen — the Abbe Arneau was with us —
this is the first house I have seen in any degree
of order or neatness, being elegant and neat
at the same time. At five my brother and myself
went to la Comedie du bois de Boulogne — we
were too early and walked in the woods ; there
were a s:reat number of carriages. I imagined
there would be much company at the Comedie,
but found they were more disposed for walking
than seeing the play.

The music was pretty good, the actors and
actresses only tolerable. I am not fond of come
dy in general; I had rather be improved than
amused, if the distinction can be made between
comedy and tragedy. The dresses did not please
me as much as those in England.

August 22, 1784. This day, fortnight, I left

16 JOURNAL.

London; this day, ten weeks, I left America. I
had not thought to have found such weather in a
climate I had heard such accounts of — we have
had a continual storm, except yesterday, since
Tuesday.

Mr. Jefferson, Col. Humphreys, and a Polish
gentleman, lately from America, dined with us.
Col. H. is appointed by Congress, Secretary of
the Commercial Commission — he was an aid to
General Washington. He seems about 30, his ap
pearance is soldier-like. I have not seen enough
of these people to form a judgment, or to make
any remarks with justice.

24th. Went in the morning with my papa and
mamma to pay our respects to Dr. Franklin ;
this man on whom the world have passed such
high encomiums, and perhaps justly ; he is now
near 80 years old and looks in good health.

Wednesday, 25th. We all dined to-day with
the three abbes; these are persons who exclude
themselves by their vows from marrying. The
youngest is about 60 ; he is quite a gay young
man — at least he appears to advantage when the
others are present. He endeavours to make us
understand what he says, and in a proper man
ner, by speaking slow and distinctly; he has long
been acquainted with papa, and visits us almost
everyday. We had a very elegant dinner ; the
apartments are very neat and handsome. It is not

JOURNAL. 17

the custom in this country to take tea in the af
ternoon ; we came away about five.

Saturday, Aug. 28th. To-day we have had
company to dine, the three abbes, Dr. Franklin. Mr.
Hartly, and Commodore Jones, of whom so much
has been said in various ways ; he has received
an honorary reward from the French King of
the Star or Cross of St. Louis, for some service
performed, or some piece of conduct highly re
vered, and is taken great notice of here.

Wednesday, 1st September. Dined at Dr.
Franklin's by invitation; a number of gentlemen,
and Madame Helvetius, a French lady 60 years
of age.

Odious indeed do our sex appear when divest
ed of those ornaments, with which modesty and
delicacy adorn them.

September 5th. To-day, by invitation, we
dined with Mr. Grand and family ; after dinner it
was proposed to go and see the Dauphin, whose
palace was not far from this. The palace is within
a garden, in which no person is permitted to
walk any days but Sundays; then it is open to
every one ; it is a day devoted throughout the
kingdom to the pleasures of every class. Among
the higher class, it is appropriated to visiting and
receiving company ; and among the lower class,
it is devoted to any amusement they choose to
follow. With the rest of the crowd we went to
2*

18 JOURNAL.

see the Dauphin ; before the palace was a garden
with an open fence all round it. His lordship was
playing with an iron shovel ; there were four ladies
attending him, one was a dutchess, and the others
I know not what ; they were elegant women ;
upon our approaching, he was set to walking and
running, to give us an opportunity of seeing him ;
he was a pretty, sprightly boy, and behaved with
the same ease and freedom any child would. There
were more than a thousand persons, and others
continually passing, to see this representative of
despotism.

September 19th. To-day we went to see the
balloon ; it was to ascend from the garden of the
Tuilleries; we had tickets at a crown a person to
go in. We left our carriage outside and went in ;
the garden 1 had never been in before ; it is very
large, and in general, elegant. There were eight
or ten thousand persons present. This people
are more attentive to their amusements than any
thing else ; however, as we were upon the same
errand, it is unjust to reflect upon others, whose
curiosity was undoubtedly as well founded. \Ye
walked a little, took a view of the company, and
approached the balloon ; it was made of taffetas
and in the form of an egg, if both ends were large ;
this is what contains the air ; below it is a gallery
where are the adventurers and the ballast. At
eleven it was moved from the place of its stand-

JOURNAL. 19

ing among the trees to an open situation, and the
cords, which were held by some of the greatest
men in the kingdom, were cut ; it mounted in the
air. It was some time in sight, as they had in
tended making some experiments upon their ma
chine. At six in the evening it descended at
Bevre, fifty leagues from Paris. At two o'clock
the same day there was a storm of rain, with
thunder and lightning, but they were not affected
by it.

September 25th. This day we have had a
company of twenty persons to dine with us, all
Americans but four : those were Mr. Grand's
family, Mr. and Mrs. B. were among the Ameri
cans ; they are from P. and are travelling for
pleasure. Mr. B. is possessed of a large fortune —
both very young. Mrs. B. is only 20 ; she was
married at 16 ; she is pretty, a good figure, but
rather still. She has not been long enough in
this country to have gained that ease of air and
manner which is peculiar to the women here ; and
when it does not exceed the bounds of delicacy, is
very pleasing. Mrs. B. has been in Europe two
years. I admire her that she is not in the small
est degree tinctured by indelicacy. She has, from
the little acquaintance I have had with her, gen
uine principles; she is very sprightly and very
pleasing.

Monday, 27th. Went to the Italian opera.

20 JOURNAL.

and saw presented a little piece that has made a
great noise ; it is a history of the whims and co
quetry of two lovers — a good representation of the
ridiculous.

Thursday, 30th. Went to Paris, and dined by
invitation with Mr. Jefferson ; met Mr. and Mrs.
B., Mrs. Barclay. Mr. J. is an agreeable man.
Col. H. is I dont know what — a sensible man I
believe — but his address is not very agreeable ;
he is I believe a very worthy character. Mrs.
B. has a most pleasing address, and a very happy
turn of expression, with a good deal of polite
ness — she will not fail to please. Mr. B. is an
agreeable man — he is delicately attentive, and his
behaviour to Madame is very pleasing.

Monday, 4th October. Went to dine with Dr.
Franklin, found Gov. Pownall and lady, Mr. J.,
Col. H., the two abbes, and some others. After
dinner my brother and myself accepted of Mr.
Jefferson's invitation, and went to the Concert at
the Chateau of the Tuilleries, which was by
order. Prince Henry, brother to the King of
Prussia, was there.

Tuesday, 5th. Papa went to Versailles ; every
Tuesday is called Ambassador's Day ; in general
they all attend.

Wednesday, 6th. To-day papa dined with the
Spanish Ambassador ; when he returned he gave
us an account of his visit; he is about 80 years

JOURNAL. 21

old, and has lately married a young lady of 16,
his niece and heir to his fortune. Papa told me
it was an affecting sight to see such a couple ;
he seemed very much disgusted at the match,
where such inequality of age existed ; he said
Madame, the Countess, appeared absolutely mel
ancholy ; he really pitied her.

Thursday, 7th October. Governor Pownall
and lady, a Mr. Hobart, an English gentlman,
dined with us to-day. I do not pretend to draw
portraits. After dinner Mrs. Pownall very politely
invited me to accompany her in visiting the house
and garden of the Duke de Chartres ; she had
tickets or permission from the Duke. I did so, and
was not only pleased with my acquaintance with
her, but exceedingly gratified with what I saw.
The Duke has built, finished, and furnished the
house in the English style. I can truly say, I never
saw any thing so elegant ; it seems a winding laby
rinth. We were first shown into the winter garden
and grotto ; the latter is entirely artificial ; it was
large ; but, it is dark — we could not see enough of
it to enable me to describe it farther. The winter
garden was under cover; here, the servant told
us the Duke generally dines in the winter; it is
large and appropriated to pleasure. From this
room we went into a little room which was
French, and surrounded with mirrors ; the furni
ture was yellow silk. Then we were shown into

22 JOURNAL.

a long gallery covered with transparent paintings,
which when lighted must be beautiful ; here were
a variety of rooms, all of which we saw with so
much haste, that I do not remember their distinc
tion ; they were all perfectly English and elegant.
There were glasses so arranged that we saw
through the whole. We were unfortunately so
late thatwe could not see thegardens, and returned
to Auteuil. Governor P. and lady returned to
Paris, leaving me much gratified, and obliged by
their politeness. There is great pleasure in see
ing things perfectly agreeable to our taste.

8th. We received letters from our American
friends.

9th. A great fast and a sober day amongst the
people of this country. Our French servant has
been to mass, which I am sure he has not before
since he has lived with us. In the afternoon my
brother and I took a walk in the garden of the
Friars, which is a little distance from us, and an
agreeable walk. This class of men are perhaps
the most numerous of any in France, and they
have in general, appropriated the best situations
in the country to themselves. One seldom sees
a high hill, and a good situation, but it is covered
with a monastery or a convent.

12th. Papa and my brother dined with the
Swedish Ambassador; the dinner was very sump
tuous and elegant j it was served in plate, except

JOURNAL. 23

the last course, which was China, gilt knives,
forks, and spoons ; every thing to correspond.

13th. Went in the afternoon to visit Madame
Grand ; found the ladies at home, and passed a
very agreeable hour j met a young French lady
who spoke English very well. It is the custom
in this country never to introduce persons to each
other. I found her very agreeable and should have
been happy to have requested to commence an ac
quaintance, but that is not done by words. If you
wish to be visited, you must make the first visit,
and no one will be so impolite as not to return it :
thus your acquaintance commences and grows.
The oftener you visit, the sooner you will become
acquainted; and when you part, it is not the cus
tom to ask the return of the visit. I was much
pleased with mine to-day, and should have been
pleased to have made it longer.

Came home and found Mr. Jefferson again.
He is an agreeable man ; we should be obliged to
him for taking the trouble to come out ; if he had
not had business, I fancy he would not have come
to-day.

Thursday, 14th Oct. 1784. — Mr. Jefferson
sent us cards yesterday to admit us to see the
ceremony of taking the veil, in the convent where
his daughter is to receive her education. We
rose at seven, dressed, and went into Paris, and
breakfasted with Madame Barclay. At nine we

24 JOURNAL.

went to the Church, where we found a number
of persons of our acquaintance. Upon this occa
sion we were admitted to the altar where the priest
performs, which at other times is not allowed.
It was separated from the place of the nuns and
those of the convent, by iron grates. The place
in which they were, was a large apartment, with
seats around. The floor was covered with an ele
gant carpet — here were the nuns only. When
we first went they were repeating their prayers ;
presently the curtains were drawn aside, the lady
abbess and other nuns, with all the pensioners,
came. The candles were lighted — each nun held
a lighted candle in her hand ; the two nuns who
were to take the veil, came forward, attended by
two English ladies who were pensioners ; each
held a large lighted torch in her hand — they were
elegantly dressed, and in all the vanities of the
world.

The two nuns were in fine, white woollen dres
ses, made like a parson's robes, loose and flowing ;
their veils were white ; they appeared first with
a different made robe on ; it was rather a cloak
very long ; their hair all shaved off; a white cap
and veil. They came and kneeled before the
altar ; there was much sinking arid chanting of
prayers. It is impossible to describe the many
different manners and forms, alternately kneeling
and rising. The priest came to the altar and

JOURNAL. 25

made many signs that I did not understand.
There were three who assisted ; one of them de
livered a sermon in French. He began by expa
tiating upon the goodness of the king ; then on
the excellence of every particular class of people,
from the throne to the footstool. He told them
this was a very good world to live in, and that it
was very wrong to quit it. After dwelling a long
time upon its excellence, he told them a false
philosophy had got into the world, and every thing
was becoming bad ; every one was guided by self-
interest, and they had the happiest prospect in
quitting it. At the same time, he represented to
them the disagreeableness of their situation ; that
they would be confined, and that very possibly
their actions would be wrongly construed. If
they should be gay, the nuns would say of them,
that they had not yet quitted the world. If they
were grave, they might say, that they were un
happy and repented of their vows. After this the
nuns went round and took leave of all the others,
and kissed them. Then they laid down upon
their faces, and there was brought in, by eight
pensioners, a pall of black, crossed with white,
which was held over them ; the priest then read
some part of the ceremony. The nuns chanted
their prayers. This was an affecting sight ; I
could not refrain from tears ; every one seemed
affected around, particularly the French. One
3

26 JOURNAL.

of the priests seemed affected ; the others appeared
as insensible as statues of lead or wood. This
ceremony lasted half an hour, while these poor
girls were lying on their faces ; and when they
rise, it is called rising to the resurrection, after hav
ing been dead to the world. Then they went to
the old abbess; she put upon them the nun's habit.
While this was performing, the countenance of
first of the nuns, who was French, and of one
of the first families in the kingdom, which had
been without a smile and entirely inattentive
to every thing but her devotion, was lighted up
with a smile, and she appeared very pleasing.
The other was an Irish girl ; her countenance
was not very expressive ; it seemed calm, arid
without any appearance of the least degree of per
turbation of spirits. The first, I observed, blushed
often, and seemed affected. After the robe was
put on, there were more reading and prayers ; then
the priest sprinkled the veil destined for them
with holy water, and perfumed it with frank in
cense. The abbess then put it on them while
they kneeled before her ; then followed more pray
ers and reading : then the abbess pinned upon
each of their heads a wreath of flowers ; this was
a part of the ceremony, as none of the nuns but
them had them. A candle was then put into their
hands and mass was said, which, with the prayers
and the whole ceremony, was performed in Latin,

t*

JOURNAL. 27

of which I suppose they understood as much as I
did.

When the priest in his sermon, invited all the
others who were present, to follow the example of
these nuns, 1 observed the English girl, who held
the candle for one of them, look very sharp upon
the other English girl, whose countenance ex
pressed that she knew better than all this — that
she had no such intention — quite right she.

The relations of the two victims appeared less
affected than any one present. It is very probable
they are the victims of pride or wickedness. Thus
these two girls are destined to pass their lives
within the walls of this convent. They are not
so strict as formerly. Miss Jefferson told me they
were very cheerful and agreeable. They seemed
to take pleasure in contributing to the happiness
of the pensioners. There were three princesses
who are here for their education, and were dis
tinguished from the others by a blue ribbon over
the shoulder.

This is considered the best and most genteel
convent in Paris. Most of the English, who send
their children here for their education, put them
into this convent. There are a number now here.

Tuesday, 19th. Oct. Mr. B. came flourishing
out in the morning to accompany papa to Ver
sailles, to be presented to his most Christian ma-

28 JOURNAL.

jesty, the King of France, with his four horses and
three servants, in all the pomp of an American
merchant. About twelve they returned, as there
was no court.

Oct. 22. Breakfasted with Mr. and Mrs. Bing-
ham, and went with them to see the Duke de
Chartres' gardens, which, if they were intended
as an imitation of the English, were rather a bur
lesque upon them, or rather a proof how very in
adequate the French are, to imitate the perfection
to which the English have arrived. I would not
detract from the merits of this nation in any res
pect, but certainly, they do not equal the English
in the neatnass and elegance of their gardens.
Those at Chantilly, which are equal to any in
France, were deficient in general neatness. We
were not permitted to see the house, which was a
greater disappointment to the other ladies, than to
me, as I had seen it before. A French gentleman
accompanied us, a very agreeable man, who has
been in America, and was perhaps improved.
What a local sentiment is this, and yet perhaps a
just one, for this gentleman certainly discovered
more modesty, than those gentlemen who have
been only used to French manners would. We
saw the gardens, which were very inadequate to
my expectations ; we returned to Auteuil before
dinner.

26th. We all dined with Mr. and Mrs. Bing-

JOURNAL. 29

ham at their hotel, which is the Hotel Muscovy.
There was much company : Mrs. B. gains my
love and admiration, more and more every time I
see her ; she is possessed of more ease and polite
ness in her behaviour, than any person I have
seen. She joins in every conversation in compa
ny; and when engaged herself in conversing with
you, she will, by joining directly in another chit
chat with another party, convince you, that she
was all attention to every one. She has a taste
for show, but not above her circumstances. Mr.
B. is an agreeable man, but seems to feel the su
periority of fortune more than Mrs. B. After din
ner we went to the play without saying a word
to any body, which was hardly civil according to
my ideas ; but it was French.

Oct. 27th. To-day we have had company to
dine ; all Americans but the three abbes ; we
passed the time agreeably. Mr. Jefferson was pre
vented by indisposition.

28th. Dined to-day, by invitation, with Mon
sieur Chalut, brother to the Abbe Chalut, — he is
a very old man, and appears older than he really
is. There was a young lady whom I took for his
daughter ; a very pretty, sprightly brunette. She
called him mon pere, and he called her mon fille.
She is a very accomplished girl. When we came
away, papa told me her history.
3*

30 JOURNAL.

Madame Chalut went one day to the repository
of foundlings, and took this girl out, as a play
thing, as she had no children. She brought her
home and educated her in the most polite manner,
giving her a master for every accomplishment,
and treated her as tenderly as if she had been her
own child, until she died three years since. Her
husband takes the same care of her ; she has a
master to teach her English, an abbe ; he had
been in America ; he speaks English very well.
There was other company, and by their ribbons
I suppose were great folks. But persons in this
country are seldom, if ever, introduced ; and one
may dine in an hundred companies, and converse
with every one in company without knowing
them. The abbes told my father at table to-day,
that they dined once or twice a week with this
gentleman, their brother, and half the time knew
not half the company. We had an elegant dinner
all served in plate, which I cannot like as well as
china, though it has the appearance of more riches
and grandeur. We came away after dinner and
went to pay our respects to madame, the Marquise
de la Fayette. We were shown to the ladies in
their rooms. Madame, the Marquise, her mother,
and youngest sister, were sitting in an unceremo
nious way with their work, and seemed to be in
that social manner that we boast of in America.
They seemed to be going out ; so we made a short

JOURNAL. 31

visit. Madame de la Fayette received us very
civilly and cordially, with great ease and goodness,
and very politely apologized for not waiting upon
us first. She speaks English a little. I had al
ways heard she was handsome ; I do not think her
so; she was not painted, and very little dressed; she
is very agreeable and pleasing, as indeed are all
the ladies of this country ; not equalled by any
other 1 believe. As we came out, we met Mr.
Jefferson and Mr. Williamson going in. We went
to the Comedie Francais ; they gave us two laugh
able pieces, but I did not feel disposed to laugh at
them.

Nov. 7th, 1784. This morning, for the first
time since I have been in France, I went with my
papa, mamma, and brother, to the Dutch Ambassa
dor's Chapel ; the service was in French. When
we came out, papa went with us to the Hospital of
Invalids, which is upon the other side of the river
as we go to Paris. This institution was founded
by Louis the 14th, to equal, or out do, the Eng
lish. Every body who went to England extolled
St. Paul's Church ; his pride was touched by the
praises bestowed upon that building, and he un
dertook to have this built, to equal the English. It
is a building not so large as St. Paul's ; there is a
fine court, and the building is very elegant. The
dome, which we see every day as we so to Paris,
is the curiosity of the whole. It is a Church in a

32 JOURNAL.

circular form, paved with marble, wrought and
inlaid in various forms and in various colours,
most elegant and beautiful ; at each corner is a
Chapel, as they are called, ornamented with three
statues of white marble of the saint and saintess.
The whole was embellished with fine paintings.
The invalids received here are those who have
served in the army twenty-five years, old or sick.
We returned home.

Madame de la Fayette is a fine woman ; speaks
a little English : perfectly easy in her manners ;
a little French in some respects ; sprightly and
very pleasing. As we were sitting round the fire,
the door opened, and this lady entered with all
the freedom of a familiar friend, how much more
agreeable than any other manner possible. The
women universally in this country, and the ladies
of education in particular, have an ease and soft
ness in their manners, that is not found in any
other country perhaps in the world ; it is very
charnung, and were it not for some little excep
tions, their manners would I think be perfect.
She sat half an hour, and left us much pleased
with her.

llth Nov. Papa and mamma being indisposed,
my brother and myself dined at Mr. B.'s by invi
tation ; we found mostly Americans ; I had rather
they had been French. The only lady was Mrs.
C. except myself; I found her much more agree-

JOURNAL.

33

able than I expected. Mr. C. had not the good
fortune to please me. In the eve we went to the
Italian comedy ; I was pleased and entertained.

18th. To-day we had company to dine — all
Americans but the Marchioness de la Fayette ;
all have been mentioned here before, and no one
except Mr. Jackson merits a second observation.
He is without exception, the most polite man I
have ever seen ; by politeness I mean not that
light superficial frothiness which we often meet
with, and which sometimes conceals a great deal
of rudeness, but a certain something1 in his man
ners and appearance that cannot fail to please
every one who is acquainted with him ; my papa
calls him the Sir Charles Grandison of this age ;
I was never acquainted with him until I came to
France ; I consider it an acquisition.

21st. Went to Paris in the evening, to the
Comedie Francois, where was played Arnphriton,
a comedy of Molire's.

Nov. 28th. A most beautiful day ; we had to
dine with us Mr. Jackson, my favourite ; he is in
deed a most worthy man ; — Dr. Bancroft, the au
thor of Charles Wentworth ; he is about 40 ; his
manners and conversation are agreeable — and
when one has heard him converse for a few hours,
though not upon any particular subject, one is
rather pleased than otherwise. Also two young
Americans, a Mr. B. a Virginian, the other a Phil-

34 JOURNAL.

adelphian ; and I do not believe, that to have
searched the kingdom of France, one could have
found two greater curiosities in appearance. Mr.
J. is the only gentleman 1 have had any kind of
conversation with since I have been here.

I have often complained of a stiffness and re
serve in our circles in America, that was disagree
able — what every one complained of and no one
banished ; a little French ease adopted would be
an improvement. There are many customs here
that might advantageously be carried into prac
tice with us, and others that would not be found
agreeable. In company here, every one consults
his own pleasure ; the ladies walk about, view the
pictures if there are any, chat with any one who
pleases them, talk of general subjects, such as the
spectacles ; no one in general is introduced, but
this does not retard the general sociability ; per
sonal subjects are to be avoided, and no ill must
be spoken of any one ; persons need not be guard
ed, for no one should feel an inclination to say
any thing to the detriment of another. Your
company may form into parties, and converse as
they please ; in some respects it is agreeable.

Tuesday 30th. Papa went to Versailles by
himself last Tuesday ; he introduced Mr. J. Mr.
T. and Mr. B. the first American gentlemen in
private characters, that have been introduced at
this court. Mr. B.'s ambition promoted it; what

JOURNAL. 35

it will promote him to I know not ; if to what he
wishes, it is easily determined.

December 1st. This morning Col. H. came out
with Mr. W. to introduce a Mr. S. a young Ameri
can from Virginia; he comes recommended high
ly, and is to live with Mr. Jefferson; to-morrow
he dines with us. I have not seen him, as I do
not make my appearance to the gentlemen. All
classes of persons in this country have their fetes,
which are certain days when they feel themselves
entitled to ask a livre or two ; the gardner has
his, and the coachman his ; it is here mentioned
as a custom of the country resulting from their
religion.

2d. To-day we had company to dine ; the
Ambassador of Sweden, and the Baron de Guere,
Mr. Haldersdorf, and many others. The ambas-
dor is a man of five arid thirty, but appears not
more than twenty seven at most ; he is tall, grace
ful in his person, a fine complexion, good colour,
good features, in short a very handsome man ; he
spoke no English, but with bad French and a little
English ; I had some conversation with him. The
disposition he discovered to converse, made him
appear very agreeable; he spoke of the French
ladies, but not with much approbation. He told
my brother that a French lady of my age would
appear ten years older than I did, their complex
ions being so very dark, adding that one could not

36 JOURNAL.

find in France so good a complexion as mine ; I
could with justice have returned the compliment,
if it was one. I observed that I thought by what
I had seen at the theatres, that the French ladies
had good complexions. Oh no, said he, avec un-
peu de rouge et blanche, they appear tolerable.
He praised the ladies of Sweden ; the Baron de
Guere was likewise a Swede ; I had much conver
sation with him about America. I sat next to
Mr. Jackson at table, and next to him was seated
Madame B. who by an exuberance of sprightli-
ness and wit, slips from the path of being perfectly
agreeable ; a little judgment would amend what
ever defects may appear.

Mamma and myself called to see Mrs. C. who
received us with softness, sweetness, and affabili
ty ; every thing is delicate and agreeable, except
the husband ; however, he has always behaved
very well when I have seen him. After we had
made our visit, we went to the Comedie Fran-
cais to see Figaro, papa and mamma never having
seen it. I found I understood it better than any
other piece I have yet seen ; this is the 64th
representation. It is indeed surprising that a
piece with so little merit should fill the house so
frequently ; it is from beginning to the end a
piece of studied deception and intrigue ; it has
never been printed, and it is thought it never will
be. There appears to be a great deal of low wit,

JOURNAL. 37

to gain the approbation of the vulgar ; but it
seems to have gained the good will of higher
ranks ; every one exclaims against the morals of
it, and yet every one adds to the number of spec
tators. Mademoiselle Contar plays admirably in
it ; she is the heroine of the piece, and is certainly
charming ; so much ease, grace, and such an ap
parent simplicity, that one might take her for a
saint, if they knew not that she was a courtesan.
Dec. 31st. To-day by invitation, we dined with
the abbes. Mademoiselle Lucelle was there, and
two gentlemen. She speaks a little English, and
I a little French ; so we had some conversation.
She has the ease and affability, sprightliness, at
tention, and apparent solicitude to please, of a real
French girl. This solicitude is not troublesome,
nor does it discover itself by apparent studious-
ness, but when you least think of it, she makes
some advance which never fails of success. I sat
next her at table, she corrected my French, I in
return, corrected her English. She sings, and
although I think she has not the least voice in the
world, complies with your request without hesi
tation ; she was going to the opera, and left us at
five o'clock. The Abbe Arno, though 60 years
old, is a man of much vivacity and wit, with al
ways a great deal of pleasantry. The Abbe de
Mably, who is always of our parties there, and dines
with us with the other two, although he does not
4

38 JOURNAL.

live with them ; he is eighty years old, a man of
great learning ; has written many things that are
highly spoken of; among them are some letters to
my papa upon the forms of our government ; they
have been translated, and three editions of them
out in London. He spoke yesterday very highly
of Telemachus, as one of the finest things in the
French language ; he said he had read it very
often, and always was charmed with it ; it was ad
mirably well expressed. He said he had sometimes
reflected how he should have rendered the same
sentiments, arid that he always finds he should
not have equalled the author. After we came
away, we went to Mr. Jefferson's, where I had the
honour and pleasure of making tea for the gentle
men, Mr. J., Mr. W., Mr. H., Mr. S., Mr. Ad
ams and his son. mamma and myself. After
tea, we went to see the hall where the courts of
justice are held ; it was New-year's eve, and filled
with people, some to gratify their curiosity, some
to make purchases at the shops. In such a
crowd in London we should expect to be robbed,
but here, one is entirely safe in the streets and at
public places. We returned to Auteuil about
nine.

Jan. 1st, 1785. Papa went to court, it being- a
great day ; the ladies were much dressed ; the
king and queen first received the ambassadors,
then went to mass for an hour, then dined in pub-

JOURNAL.

39

lie. to give all the world the opportunity to see them
eat and drink ; this ceremony is called the Grand
Convert, of which there are three in a year.

3d. It is customary in this country, and I be
lieve in all Europe, to visit and receive visits, to
congratulate every one of their acquaintance upon
the new year. I asked one gentleman about the
dress of the ladies on Saturday at Versailles, but
he could not tell me more than papa. I think he
related an anecdote at one of the feasts given to
the King of Sweden, who was here the last year,
and to whom the court was very civil, by paying
him every polite attention ; upon these occasions
it is customary for the court and the ambassadors
to dress more than usual. Madame Adelaide, one
of the king's aunts, addressed herself to Monsieur
la Compt de Mercy in French — " how comes it,
Monsieur Ambassador, that you are solittle dressed
on this occasion ?" The ambassador seemed a little
surprised : " I do not know, madam ; my coat cost
me 80,000 livres." "Then," said she, "you
should have pinned the price upon the back of
it." It was green velvet, very plain, with dia
mond buttons ; a very curious circumstance that
the ambassador should be obliged to tell the price
of his coat.

My brother and myself attended one of the little
theatres ; after the entertainment was over, we
walked in the Palais Royal ; this is a very fash-

40 JOURNAL.

ionable public walk, since the Duke de Chartres
has improved it so very much ; it was formerly
a small public garden. The palace was very in
different when the duke came into the possession
of it ; he cut down the trees, and added to the
building, so as to make four sides, and enclose the
gardens in the centre, and made a covered walk
all around the square, that renders it very agree
able and convenient ; the lower part of the houses
are converted into shops, the other stories to other
purposes, some to hotels. It was generally sup
posed the duke would ruin himself by the expense
he was at, paying ten per cent, for the money he
borrowed, and they called it the Duke de Char
tres' folly ; but, from its beauty and lucrativeness,
it proves to be wisdom. We met some acquaint
ances, and when I came home, I had a feast of
letters from America.

1785. Last Friday, the 7th of January, Mr.
Blanchard and Dr. Jeffries ascended at Dover in
a balloon, and in two hours descended a league
from Calais, to the great joy and admiration of
every one who saw them. The people of Calais
received the aeriel travellers with every mark of
attention, respect, and admiration ; they presented
Mr. Blanchard with a gold box, the figure of his
balloon on the cover, and presented him with let
ters, giving him the title of citizen of Calais.
They offered the same to Dr. J. but he, being a

JOURNAL. 41

stranger, declined them ; probably thinking his
situation in England would be rendered more dis
agreeable, and create jealousies by such a distinc
tion. They likewise requested of Mr. Blanchard
his balloon to put into the Cathedral Church at
Calais, as the ship of Columbus was put into a
Church in Spain. These gentlemen have arrived
at Paris. This voyage has been long projected
— their success has been quite equal to their ex
pectations ; there being but little wind, they did
not make so quick a voyage as some others have
done. Mr. B. is a Frenchman, Dr. J. an Ameri
can.

Wednesday, 12th January. To-day papa car
ried mamma and myself to see two churches,
Notre Dame and St. Sulpice ; these are two of the
finest in Paris. The churches in this country
are superior in point of grandeur, magnificence,
and elegance, to any other buildings they have;
these were very beautiful. I had not time to no
tice them, or knowledge sufficient to describe them.
We went also to see the Enfans Trouves : this
claimed my attention more than the churches.
Louis 14th, by a declaration of an order of his
counsel, authorized the establishment of this hos
pital, which is attended by some religious order
called Charity Sisters, who oversee it. This house
was built in the year 1747. All new born chil
dren are received here, at all hours, night and day,
4*

42 JOURNAL.

without question or formality ; during the day
they are received at the door ; during the night the
sisters watch to receive them; their number
amounts to more than six thousand every year.
In the hall of this house there are an hundred cra
dles to receive the infants. There are always four
nurses in this .house, who nurse them until they
can be put out to nurse, where they keep them
until they are five years old. On their return
they are conducted to another house upon the
same plan, and connected with this, where they
are taught to read and write ; the boys to knit, and
the girls to embroider, and make lace, till the age
of 13, when they take their first communion ;
then they are put to trades.

There was a chapel which we did not see ;
there are two chaplains who belong to it, who
are aided by enfans who sing the service.

We saw the hall where they are first received,
and the hundred cradles. The sister who governed
here, seemed a well-bred, intelligent person ; her
dress was that of a nun, her countenance was
expressive of all that was amiable — sensibility
and sweetness were predominant. She told us
there had .been received more than six thousand
the last year ; they had fifteen thousand at nurse
in the country, under five years old ; she had re
ceived since the first of January, and this was
only the 12th, two hundred; that about one-third

JOURNAL. 43

died every year. Sometimes, she said, they were
so cold and stiffened that they could not recover
them. It was amazing to me how they could
keep a room with such a number, either decent,
or otherwise than disagreeable. I can truly say
I never saw a room in better order or neatness ;
the cradles were all round the room, and two
rows down the middle ; each one shone like ma
hogany, and the beds looked as neat as possible.
The poor little things were some asleep, others
crying, and some without any appearance of life.
She showed us several that had been brought in
this day, and one that had been baptized that
morning. While we were looking at them, and
considering their helpless situation, unprotected
by those to whom they owed their lives, another
was brought in to add to the number; this ap
peared about three months old. There came with
it a paper, stating the death of its mother. The
motto of the house is : " My father and my moth
er have forsaken me, but the Lord hath taken
care of me."

" This Institution of Charity Sisters, owes its
foundation to Madame le Gras. Few establish
ments are equally useful ; the benevolent cares of
these pious women, make them attend upon the
poor and their children ; they afford great relief in
their parishes, and every where ; they make their
vows yearly, and have it in their power to leave

44 JOURNAL.

them when they please. Their chapel is remark
able for its extreme simplicity and neatness — at
the foot of the altar, is the tomb of its foundress,
Madame le Gras."

20th. Mamma and myself went to Paris, and
paid a visit to Mrs. B. in the Palais Royal ; we
have not seen her before since she moved. I was
quite as much pleased with her as ever, and must
confess that she has excellencies that overbalance
every want of judgment, or that love for gay life,
which is very conspicuous in her, but which I do
not wonder at, at all. It is united with so many
agreeable and amiable qualities, that it is impossi
ble not to admire her. They are really domestic,
and the principles of affection and domestic hap
piness are so very apparent, that I never see them
that I do not gain a higher opinion of that state,
in which I believe one may most enjoy it.

I often think of a speech of Gov. Pownall's
when he was here some time since. I thank
Heaven, said he, I have no habits. Method
is an acquisition that saves people much trouble ;
but when too scrupulously attended to, leads to
such a degree of regularity, that sometimes become
troublesome. This degree should be avoided as
much as possible, as people would wish to relieve
their friends from a disagreeable situation ; but
how I came upon this subject here I know not.

January 27th. A small company to dine to-

JOURNAL. 45

day ; the Abbe Arneau, Mr. Dash a Swedish
gentleman, Col. H., and Mr. Jefferson ; Miss J. we
expected; but the news of the death of one of Mr.
J.'s children in America, brought by the Marquis
de la Fayette, prevented. Mr. J. is a man of
great sensibility, and parental affection. His wife
died when this child was born, and he was almost
in a confirmed state of melancholy ; confined him
self from the world, and even from his friends, for a
lonsr time ; and this news has greatly affected him
and his daughter. She is a sweet girl, delicacy and
sensibility are read in every feature, and her man
ners are in unison with all that is amiable and
lovely; she is very young. Col. H. has taken the
most effectual means of gaining1 my good opinion;
no more reflections upon the stiffness of his man
ners must proceed from me ; he presented me to
day with a copy of a poem written by himself,
and addressed to the army, while he was Aid de
Camp to Genera] Washington, which he has had
printed since he came to Paris. I confess I had
not formed an idea of his being a poet. This was
no doubt owing to my want of penetration. It
is well written, and the verse is easy.

Mr. S. grows very sociable and pleasant. He ap
pears a well-bred man. without the least formality,
or affectation of any kind. He converses with
ease, and says many good things. He wants to
go to a convent to learn French. The abbe,

46 JOURNAL.

upon my inquiring-to-day after Mademoiselle Lu
cille, told me she had gone to a convent ; and
added, that the manners of the women of this
country were so dissipated, and the example they
set their daughters was so bad, that they were
obliged to put them into convents, to keep them
out of this influence. This may be generally true,
but the abbe has a most detestable idea of the women
of this country, perhaps justly ; but I do not see
how they can be otherwise : the manner of edu
cation, and above all, the shocking manner in
which they are sacrificed, in the most sacred of
all connections ; oftentimes nothing but incon
stancy and wickedness can result from it.

Sunday, 30th Jan., 1785. This eve Monsieur
la Marquis de la Fayette called upon us, for the
first time since he arrived. I had neglected to be
properly dressed to-day, and was punished by not
having it in my power to see him. He gave rny
papa and mamma agreeable accounts of our State,
and of Boston in particular; he says it is the best
regulated, and he observed the most harmony
and agreement in the people, of any of the States ;
he had visited all. He tells us Mr. King is chosen
member of Congress.

February 7th. To-day we dined with Mr. Jef
ferson. He invited us to come and see all Paris,
which was to be seen in the streets to-day, and
many masks, it being the last day but one, of the

JOURNAL. 47

Carnival, and to go to the mask ball in the even
ing; which we did not attend. I had but little
cariosity to go ; the description of those who have
seen it, has not given me spirit enough to spend
all the night to be perhaps not gratified. The
ball begins at one o'clock in the morning, and
lasts until six. There are no characters support
ed at them here, as in England, nor are there any
variety in the dresses. Mrs. B. says it is the only
amusement that is not superior here, to what they
have in London. She is so delighted with Paris,
that she says she shall never go to America with
her own consent; she expects to be carried, in the
spring. I confess I cannot form an idea of this
disposition. She has, I believe, by this time, laid
the foundation of a future life of unhappiness.
Miss Jefferson dined with us — no other company.

February 14th. To-day we have dined with
Dr. Franklin ; there was a large company : our
family, the Marquis de la Fayette and lady, Lord
Mount Morris an Irish volunteer, Dr. Jeffries,
Mr. Paul Jones. The Dr.'s family consists of
himself, Mrs. Hewson an English lady, Mr. F.,
Mr. Beach his grandson, Mr. Williams who is
generally there. Mr. Jefferson has not been out
to dine this long time. The Marquis de la Fay
ette 1 never saw before ; he appears a little re
served, and very modest.

Lord Mount Morris attracted my attention ; he

48 JOURNAL.

is a very handsome man, a fine person, and an
agreeable countenance. He looked inquiring,
but Madam B., who is well acquainted with his
lordship, engrossed all his attention. There was
another Irish gentleman who was passable. Dr.
Jeffries, the man of the day, I happened to be seat
ed next at table. I made some inquiries respect
ing his late voyage aeriel ; he did not seem fond
of speaking of it; he said he felt no difference
from his height in the air, but that the air was
finer, and obliged them to breathe oftener, and that
it was very cold. He has been so cavilled at in
the papers, that I don't wonder at his reluctance
at conversing upon the subject.

We had a sumptuous dinner — it is now Lent,
and all the French are doomed to fish. Our
French servants have purchased themselves dis
pensations for eating meat, because they live with
us. However improbable this may appear, it is a
fact if they speak the truth.

Madame the Marquise de la Fayette was quite
sociable with papa, and professed to be a physiog
nomist. She would not allow that 1 was triste,
but grave.

We have a tableau of Paris, which is a descrip
tion of Paris ; and if it is a true picture, a most la
mentable one. I would not exclaim against a
people of whom I know so little, otherwise than
from hearsay — as I do of this — yet plain facts as-

JOURNAL. 49

tonish me sometimes. Well might Mr. Jefferson
say, that no man was fit to come abroad until 35,
unless he were under some person's care.

21st February. Dined at the Marquis de la
Fayette's with a circle of Americans. It was in-
tendended as a compliment ; but I had rather it
had been thought so to introduce us to French
company. The fondness that Madame la Marquise
discovers for her children, is very amiable; and
the more remarkable in a country where the least
trait of such a disposition is scarce known. She
seems to adore them, and to live but in them. She
has two that were presented to us ; they both
speak English, and sing it ; the Marquis appeared
very fond of them likewise. He is apparently a
man of great modesty, and delicacy of manners.

Speaking of Mrs. Jay, on whom every person
who knew her when here bestows many enco
miums, Madame de la Fayette said, she was well
acquainted "with, and very fond of Mrs. Jay ; she
added, Mrs. Jay and she thought alike : it was
Mrs. Jay's sentiment, that pleasure might be found
abroad — but happiness could only be found at
home — in the society of one's family and friends.
She told my papa that Mrs. Jay did not like the
French ladies — neither do I, said she. From the
account she had heard of the American ladies, she
believed she should be pleased with them — and
should the Marquis ever again visit America, she
5

50 JOURNAL.

would accompany him. I was seated at table,
between Mr. B. and the Irish gentleman whose
name I have forgotten ; he was very civil, but
nothing very remarkable in him ; Mr. B. was in-
supportably disagreeable. I cannot but dislike
his manners in general ; to his wife they are bet
ter than any man I have known. Mrs. B. was
as ever> engaging. The elegance of her dress de
mands a description ; a black velvet dress with
pink satin sleeves and stomacher, a pink satin
petticoat, and over it a skirt of white crape, spot
ted all over with gray fur ; the sides of the gown
open in front, and bottom of the coat trimmed
with paste ; it was superb, and the gracefulness
of the person made it appear to peculiar advan
tage. To avoid singularity, and the observation
of the company she goes into, she wears more
rouge than is advantageous to her ; I was pleased
with a little upon her, but she has become quite a
French woman in this respect. We came home
without going to the play.

Feb. 22d. Papa went to Versailles, Col. H.
and Mr. S. accompanied him ; the latter he intro
duced at court. They came out and breakfasted
with us.

Feb. 26th. To-day Dr. Franklin, Mr. Williams,
and a Monsieur St. Olympia, a French West In
dian, dined with us ; the latter has been writing
upon the trade of the Americans with the West

JOURNAL. 51

Indies ; papa breakfasted with him on Thursday.
He brought a book on politics for papa to look at,
and inquired if the ladies in America talked poli
tics? Papa told him they conversed much upon
politics, and that the liberties of a country depend
ed upon the ladies.

March 3d. My brother and myself went to the
Italian comedy, to see Richard Coeur de Lion, a
piece that has been played twenty times, and has
had great success. It is founded upon English
history ; there were some admirable scenes in it,
and they were well acted ; the music was excel
lent. It will not do to see any dancing after that
at the opera, which exceeds every thing in the
world. I have heard it observed that the art of
dancing is carried to greater perfection in this
country, than any other of the arts.

March 5th, 1785. To-day we have had a small
company to dine — all Americans. Col. H. and
Mr. Williams, who is a man who seems to derive
a great degree of pleasure from being useful to his
friends, and omits no opportunity to exert his
power to their advantage ; he has been very civil
to us in many things. He knows the disadvan
tages of being in a country where one is an entire
stranger to the usages and customs, and when he
can serve his acquaintances who are in such a
situation, he is gratified to do it. I do not know
what we shall do when he goes from Paris.

52 JOURNAL.

Mrs. B. came out to make us a visit and drank
tea — the bloom of the rose is fading — dissipation
will blast the fairest flower that ever bloomed ; in
her it is verified ; 'tis a pity so much delicacy and
beauty should be sacrificed to a few weeks of plea
sure. They leave Paris in two months, to resume
their travels, first to Switzerland, then to Italy, in
the course of the present year.

The Tableau de Paris, written by Monsieur de
Mercier, in six volumes, gives a very particular
description of every thing that can be found in
Paris — I had almost said in France. It is very
entertaining; he has lashed where he disapproved,
and is just, it is said, upon every thing. When he
published his work, which he did without the ap
probation of the King, he was sought for, and the
book-seller was taken up. When the author found
this was the case, he went to the lieutenant of po
lice, and told him he was himself the author.
This openness of conduct, it is said, only saved
him from being banished. The police made him
a compliment upon his work, but he was soon
obliged to leave the kingdom, and it is probable
can never return. Thus it is, when a man speaks
truth in this country he is banished from it.

Monday, 7th March. To-day dined with the
Marquis de la Fayette ; the same company we
had before, and the day was passed in much the

JOURNAL. 53

same way. I was seated again, next to the Irish
gentleman.

March 9th. To-day we went to Paris in the
morning, and Mr. Williams went with us to see
the gallery of pictures belonging to the Duke de
Chartres, in the Palais Royal. As the young
princes, his children, were with their drawing
master, we were not permitted to go through the
house, and were obliged to pass through the court;
thus little people must submit to greater. The
gallery is very long, and there are two other
rooms, all hung with pictures, by some of the
first painters ; Raphael, Rubens, Michel Angelo,
and others. They were in general Scripture
pieces ; and many repetitions of the same thing.
There was a descent from the cross, which is said
to be one of the finest pictures now existing. I
cannot form an idea of more expression in any
thing, than is here depicted ; the same passions
are represented variously, and equally admirable
in all. There were several of Mary with the child
Jesus, that were fine ; in all I observed that she
was drawn with red hair. But there was a head
of St. John, that struck me more than all the rest ;
the eyes were looking up, the countenance ap
peared rather feminine ; but there was a sweet
ness, calmness, and serenity, that charmed me ;
there are but few pictures that have pleased me
more. There was a representation of the judg-
5*

54 JOURNAL.

ment of Paris, with Juno, Minerva, and Yenus ;
I was not particularly pleased with this. Indeed,
there is a disagreeable sensation mixed with the
pleasure I derive from my view of paintings, that
I have yet seen in Europe : though I find the im
pression is not so forcible as it was at first. But even
now I turn involuntarily aside, sometimes when
others are admiring; perhaps it is an affectation,
yet I do not believe that it is not a better principle.
There were many others, deserving attention; but
when such a variety is presented to the view, it is
impossible to retain a just idea of all ; we see one
and admire it, but when we see many others wor
thy of attention, the first is hardly retained ; I
always find it so, and always wish to devote more
time to them, than it is possible to do. The Duke
de Chartres has also made a collection of the
models of all trades, and has them in glass cases.
This man, with all his possessions, and with every
thing in his power to possess, but the disposition
to be made happy by them, goes to England to
associate with the Prince of Wales, and to seek
the pleasure which he cannot find within the
compass of his own possessions, in his own coun
try. Such is human nature.

We went to see Mademoiselle Bertang. who is
milliner to the Glueen of France and to all Eu
rope. She is now employed in making clothes
for F infante d' Espagne, and the Princess of Por-

JOURNAL. 55

tugal. The former is to be demanded the 28th
of the present month, in marriage, by the Prince
of Portugal ; she is now ten years old ; the clothes
are very rich and superb ; but we did not see the
best, as they are sent off as soon as finished. We
saw the dress which she wore at court. Made
moiselle Bertang has lately received orders for
unlimited credit upon the court of Spain, for these
things ; it is said she will not clear less than five
or six thousand guineas. She is the first milliner
in Europe ; every year she sends the fashions to
all parts of the world. We went to a large room,
where there were twenty girls at work ; the hotel
seemed to be large and full.

Saturday, 12th March. To-morrow commen
ces Semaine Salute, Holy Week. But this people
could not exist, if they had not some amusement
or diversion ; there will be a Concert Spirituel
every night, and the fete of Long-Champ occupies
three days. A few years since, upon one of these
days, there appeared one of the girls who dance
at the opera, in a carriage with servants ; her whole
equippage superior to any other present, or to
the Queen's. The wheels of her carriage were
washed with silver, and her horses were shod with
silver ; every thing was in uniformity with this.
The next day the queen sent her word, if she ever
apppeared in such a manner again, she should be
taken care of. Whether this was not descending

56 JOURNAL.

from the dignity we should suppose in the char
acter of the Queen of France, I will not decide.

Monday, 14th. We had a large company to
dine, the Marquis de la Fayette and lady, the
Chevalier de la Luzerne, Mr. Brandsonthe Dutch
Ambassador Extraordinary, Mr. and Mrs. B. ; the
latter has a great share of grace, united with a vi
vacity that is enchanting, but without much dig
nity; grace depends upon the person, actions, and
manners ; dignity is placed in the mind ; the latter
she has not ; she is nevertheless, a charming wo
man.

16th. Mamma and myself went to Paris and

visited Mrs. ; there is something in this

woman that pleases me very much ; it calls forth
my compassion, and I feel that she is unhappy.
There is so much of that tenderness and sensibility
that is seldom discoved after the romance of affec
tion is a little dissapated about her, that con
vinces me — it is not an ideal and imaginary sen
timent, as some have said but which I never be
lieved — there is more expression in her silence,
than in ten thousand complaints that I have heard
from some people. Her children are all amiable
and lovely. We spent an hour with her before
other company came. Mrs. R. was accompanied
by a Mr. West, who was introduced to us, by a
Mr. Jackson. He was out this morning to visit
us, but I was dressing and could not see him.

JOURNAL.

57

17. Dined to-day at Dr. Franklin's ; the whole
company were Americans, except an old man,
Monsieur Brillian, who is a friend of the Dr., and
who came as he said, " a demander un dine a Pere
Franklin" His wife, it is said, is one of the hand
somest women in France. This man is perhaps
60 years old ; his hair is white from age, but he
is not venerable ; he possesses neither wit or
reason, but has a great propensity for talking, and
from his manners, I suppose, thinks he has a natu
ral turn for satire, when in reality he has no
more than his horse. Reader, pardon the com
parison ; of the man I ask none.

March 20th. Well might the Abbe Arneau
say that people in this country put their children
into convents to keep them out of the influence

of their manners. Mrs. told me last Monday

when she dined here, she was going to pass the
eve with Madame la Marquise de Buillye, and, ad
ded she, I suppose I shall play cards there till the
morning. She said she was there the last day of
the Carnival, and she staid until two o'clock in
the morning, then came away leaving the com
pany at cards ; that a gentleman who was of the
party, called upon her the next day at ten, and
assured her when he came away he left the com
pany at play ; she told me that the Marquis de B.
went to bed, rose the next morning, went in full

58 JOURNAL.

dress to pay his wife a visit, and found the com
pany as he had left them ! What a picture !

She adds, that there are five ladies and some
gentlemen, who are of that particular party ; they
meet at each other's houses five nights in the
week, as constantly as the week passes ; that four
nights they play till morning ; the other two
nights they reserve for other parties ; that they go
to the play in the forepart of the evening, and
after the play or opera is over, they meet. She
said she knew a gentleman who was of all their
parties, and that it was inconceivable the money
he had lost this winter at play with them. These
are the wives' parties. The husbands meet at their
public clubs, and have gamed until it was pro
hibited by the king lately. There are two of
these, the saloons, and the arcander, where the
first and principal men of the kingdom meet
every night ; they have the public papers, and all
the news, and a supper, and used to play, till for
bidden. There must be a formal reception, for
which they pay a certain sum. These clubs are
not approved of by the government of this coun
try, and it is said they would be forbidden. But
what a portrait of real life ! — who could be in
duced to believe that human beings sacrificed
their time and lives to such practices, if they
were not assured of the truth of it? The picture
Swift has drawn of a fashionable lady, 1 now be-

JOURNAL. 59

lieve verily true in every iota ; these are the peo
ple, and these are the manners, that my father
will not introduce us to ; there are a few excep
tions, the Marquis de la Fayette and family. I
have heard madame the marquise say, that she sel
dom went out except into her family connections.
I suppose the true reason is that the company she
would go into would be of this sort, and it would
not be agreeable to her. I have heard her express
her disapprobation of gaming, or indeed of play ;
even Mrs. B. is not so pleased with it as when she
first arrived. As an American lady, she might al
ways have excused herself from playing, if she

had wished it, "but," said Mrs. , "I became

fond of it, before the winter was over, and have
won sometimes twenty guineas of an evening."
Of all practices, this is to me the most detest
able.

There is scarce a greater offence against deli
cacy possible to be committed, than to go into
company with a little powder upon your face ; it
is almost the criterion of indecency ; but at the
same time, a lady will put an ounce or two of
rouge upon her face, and even think she is not
dressed without it.

Mr. Williams told me an anecdote. When he
first arrived in Paris, a friend of his accompanied
him to dine with a lady of his acquaintance. The
first thing that struck him was being introduced

60 JOURNAL,

to the ladies' bed-chamber, which is here as usual
as it is to visit. The lady was rather in a disha
bille, except her head which was highly dressed.
When dinner was served, they went into another
room ; after dining, they returned again to the
lady's bed-chamber ; a gentleman in company,
took from the table an orange ; while the rest of
the company were taking their coffee, he was eat
ing his orange — and, unfortunately, happened to
put the peel upon the side of the chimney piece,
and after a little time went away as is usual in
this country, without taking leave. Sometime
after he was gone, the lady called her servant and
inquired for this gentlemen ; the servant told her
he had gone, but he had heard him order his ser
vants to drive him to such an hotel. She ordered
her servant to go and request the gentleman to
return, for she wished to see him ; in less than an
hour the gentleman returned, begging to know
her commands — when she called her servant and
ordered him to take that orange peel away.
This, said Mr. W., completed my wonder and as
tonishment.

When I dined at Dr. Franklin's last Thursday,
I asked Mr. F. by whom I was seated at table,
whether the image in the centre of it represented
any particular device, as I observed a crown of
laurel and some figures ? — he said " he believed
it was Love and Hymen, an old fashioned idea

JOURNAL. 61

you know," said he ; " they used to talk of such
things in former times, but at present they know
better." I told him I was surprised to find it at
his table, I believed it was not of his choice. He
is strongly attached to the French. He told me
he preferred an English lady who had acquired
the graces of French manners ; which, he added,
were to be gained no where but at Paris — that
was the centre, and there they were all collected
and resided. I believe he was here right ; there
is a something not to be defined, that the French
women possess, which, when it ornaments and
adorns an English lady, forms something irresisti
bly charming.

24th March. This is Holy Week, and to-day
it is, that the King and Q,ueen wash the feet of
twelve children, and give them a dinner ; when
all the princes of the blood" serve the dinner, and
the King and Queen tend them at table. The
same ceremony is performed in the churches by
the archbishop and the priests. We went to St.
Sulpice ; what a spectacle did the Church present !
two hundred of the dirtiest creatures I ever be
held. The priests were in their robes, but shame
fully dirty ; they had a dozen little boys with
purple jackets, and purple caps, their hair shaved ;
then followed six or eight black friars ; they were
parading the Church, first into one Chapel singing
their service. We went down several stone steps,
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62 JOURNAL.

into a place they call the sepulchre ; there were
a number of persons at their devotions. There is
nothing more surprising than the manner and
form with which these people address the Su
preme Being ; I do not understand their profes
sions, nor do I form any judgment of it. There
is in this Church, a beautiful figure in white mar
ble of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus in her
arms. It is impossible to imagine a figure with
more expression ; the countenance is placid, mild,
and sweet beyond description ; we staid as long
as it was possible, but came away without seeing
any ceremony. The churches are very disagree
able ; the windows are cased with iron grates ; it
is impossible for the sun or air to have any access ;
the floors are all of stone ; they are excessively
cold and damp ; we returned to Auteuil by the
grand route, as it is culled, that we might have a
view of the carriages at Long-Champ ; it is curi
ous to observe how much more attended this was,
than the churches. The foundation of it was
this ; there is a convent of women at the village
of Long-Champ ; they had some very fine musi
cians, who used to exhibit on those three days,
which drew a great number of persons to hear it ;
the convent was always open on these days, and
there was a great concourse of people. But in a
few years there began to be disturbances corn mi t-
ed, and the Archbishop of Paris, who is supreme

JOURNAL. 63

and arbitrary, ordered the convent to discontinue
their custom ; but this did not induce the Parisians
to deprive themselves of their amusement. It has
continued to be very fashionable, and forms three
days of amusement and diversion for all Paris and
its environs. There were, I may venture to say,
a thousand carriages, and as many persons walk
ing and on horseback ; it was cold, and as mamma
intended seeing them to-morrow, we came away
soon, before indeed half the carriages had ar
rived.

Friday 25th. The weather was rather disa
greeable in the morning, but it cleared away and
permitted us to go to Long-Champ, where there
were the greatest collection of carriages that I
have ever seen ; there were none particularly
elegant. There were great numbers on horse
back ; the king's pages were all on horseback ;
most of them aped the English in their dress and
appearance, so much so, as to deceive the specta
tors, many of them. The beaux in this country
aim very much at the English dress, as the Eng
lish do the French ; it is the particular aim of
each to appear what they are not. When a
Frenchman is in a great dishabille, he says he is
a la Anglais. We joined the throng, and "drove
twice round the circle ; after we had seen what
there was to be seen, we went to take tea at Dr.
Franklin's with Mrs. Hewson, and passed an hour

64 JOURNAL.

very agreeably. Mr. F. is always sociable, and is
very satirical in general. He reminds me of a
lady famed in this way, whom I have known in
America. The Dr. is always silent, unless he
has some diverting story to tell, of which he has
a great collection. Mr. F. copies him in this way,
and although he tells a story well, yet I do not
think it a pleasing trait in the character of a
young man — it appears better in age ; it seems
then expressive of a desire to be agreeable —
which in old age is not always attended to. The
Dr. has something so venerable in his appear
ance, that he inspires one with respect. I never
saw an old man more so.

Friday eve, March 27th. As we were sitting
around the fire about 9 o'clock, we heard some
guns, which we supposed were to announce the
birth of a prince or princess. On Monday morn
ing we were informed of the birth of a prince,
whose title is Duke of Normandy. This is an
event which occasions great joy and rejoicing
throughout the kingdom, particularly in Paris and
at Versailles.

29th. Papa went to Versailles, it being Ambas
sador's Day ; upon such an occasion there was
much company. The young Duke of Normandy
received all the ambassadors and ministers, though
only two days old ; he was lying on a bed, and
attended by two or three ladies ; if this had hap-

JOURNAL. 65

pened to have been a princess, she would have
been scarce noticed. The Queen is to see no
Company for five days, except the princesses of
the royal family. As soon as a prince is born,
he has a house, servant, carriages, horses, tutors,
governors and governesses, and every other at
tendant to him, while he, poor thing, is insensi
ble to every thing. The whole nation are taught
to look upon them as their guardians and sup
port. In a government such as this, where all
power and authority is vested in the King, it is
undoubtedly necessary that he should be respect
ed from the moment he exists, and through his
life.

30th. Papa dined with the Spanish Ambassador,
together with a number of great folks ; there was the
Count Deranda, a German Prince. He introduced
his lady, and inquired if the American ladies paint
ed? He was informed they did not. She said the
Spanish ladies never painted, and that she never
did unless she was going into particular French
company.

Yesterday Madame de la Fayette wrote a very
polite card to mamma, informing her that the
King would come to-day to the Church of Notre
Dame to assist in the Te Deum, which would be
sung in that Church, to return thanks for the
birth of a prince ; and to offer us places in her
father's tribune at the Church, and to-day we
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went. The hour she appointed us to meet at her
house was two o'clock ; we dined early and went.
From Auteuil to the Barrier we met a number of
people ; but from the Barrier to the Marquis',
and from thence to Notre Dame — which was at
least three miles — I cannot attempt to describe
the appearance ; every street was so crowded, that
had it not been for the police, which upon every
public occasion are as numerous as the people —
they are obliged to be very strict — it would not
have been possible for a carriage to have passed.
I believe I may say with truth there were millions
of people. Mr. Jefferson, who rode from the Mar
quis' with us, supposed there were as many peo
ple in the streets as there were in the State of
Massachusetts, or any other of the States. Every
house was full— every window and door, from the
bottom to the top. Before the Church there is a
large square, which was lined with troops, drawn
up in rows, and appeared very well. The Church
of Notre Dame is of very ancient architecture ;
it is the most beautiful building I have seen.
The churches have no pews, but are filled with
chairs and benches. There are a variety of chap
els in them, in which there always is a represen
tation of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus.
On one side of the chapel there were seats, where
all the judges were seated, dressed in crimson vel
vet robes, and large wigs. On the other side

JOURNAL. . 67

were lawyers in black habits ; their dress is much
the same as in our country, except that they wear
their hair long behind, and without being tied,
but waving, which is very graceful.

On one side of the altar were a number of ladies
of rank ; on the other side, were the ambassadors
and public ministers; before the altar we re placed
seats, and under a canopy was a crimson velvet
cushion, and seats all round with each a crimson
velvet cushion; this was for his majesty to kneel
upon. There were the bishops with the archbishop
at their head, dressed in purple robes, with skirts
which came as low as their knees, of the richest
lace. There were a number of others of a differ
ent order, dressed with cloaks, wrought with gold.
Among these was the Abbe de Bourbon, an ille
gitimate son of Louis 15th. He appeared to be
about 27 years old, a very handsome man. I ob
served all the gentlemen of the court paid partic
ular attention to him. Madame de la Fayette ob
served, she thought it was too magnificent, and
there was too much noise and bustle for the
Church ; she said it was not peaceful enough. I
was charmed with her behaviour to her com
pany ; the Marquis was with the King ; she
had to arrange the company when we went to
Church, which she did, paying particular attention
to every one. In the eve the whole city of Paris
was illuminated. Papa was here at the first cer-

68 JOURNAL.

emony of this kind, when the first princess was
born. The decorations at that time were superi
or to this. It was impossible not to make many
reflections upon this august and superb ceremony,
and upon the sentiments the people discovered
for their King. But in this government I should
judge it was right and necessary. If the man
who has the whole kingdom at his disposal, is not
respected, and thought of next to their God, he
will not long sustain his power. And however
wrong it may be, it is unavoidable.

April 2d. Mrs. Hewston and Mr. Franklin
came and drank tea with us. We went in the
eve to the Concert Spirituel, which is open while
the theatres are all shut; and upon some of the
fetes, it is somewhat triste. The music is called
good. There is some part of all the vocal music
that I have heard, since I have been in this coun
try, that sounds to my ear like overstraining the
voice, and has upon me an unpleasant effect.
I am told it is because I am not a connoisseur
that it does not please me, for it is the height
of perfection. That I am not a connoisseur is a
truth ; nor will I pretend to decide upon the jus
tice of other people's tastes, because my own does
not accord with them. I saw many things that
would have appeared very strange, had I met
with them a few months since. I am accustomed

JOURNAL. 69

to many things at present, but I am not recon
ciled to them.

4th April. Dined to-day with the Marquis de
la Fayette — our circle of Americans diminishes
daily — there were a number of French gentle
men, most of whom had been in America, and
spoke English ; General Armand, Capt. la Tonch,
and Col. G., who I believe lives at the Marquis'.

General A. speaks very highly of our state, and
of Boston in particular ; most foreigners give the
preference to Boston, to all parts of the United
States, at least they tell us so ; and why should we
not believe them in an instance so favourable to
ourselves? If they do not speak the sentiments
of their hearts, it is their own fault ; but I believe
this gentleman was sincere. He observed that
there was an ostentatious show of hospitality in
the Southern States ; but he found the reality in
Boston. He went there a stranger and without
money ; many of the merchants loaned him
money, upon his word only, that he would repay
it.

Madame de la Fayette discovered her usual at
tachment to the Marquis and her children. The
Marquis had ordered that the children should not
be presented, supposing that the attention paid to
them, rather a compliment to him and his lady,
than any real pleasure the company could possi
bly derive from their presence ; but mamma re-

70 JOURNAL.

quested they might be introduced, and they came.

April 7th. To-day we had a small company
to dine : — Mr. West, who gains our good opinion
daily, as a man of sense, and possessed of many
agreeable qualities. Mrs. Hewsten has been with
Dr. F. all winter ; she is a sensible woman. The
Dr. addressed some of his philosophical letters to
this lady. He boarded with her mother in Eng
land, and has continued to preserve a great esteem
for Mrs. Hewsten. Her manners are neither mas
culine nor affected ; but she laughs too much to
please me ; she leaves France next week, to return
to England.

8th. Mamma and myself went to Paris, and

called on Mrs. , who goes in a few days to

London. I could not but regret her leaving Paris,
although I have seen but little of her, yet I never
see her without feeling a degree of regard for her.
She is most sweetly amiable, possessed of a great
share of sensibility : had she married a man of
sense and judgment, who would have endeavour
ed to turn her attention to something more impor
tant than dress and show, and recommended them
only as ornaments to adorn good sense, and an
improved mind, she would have shown with dis
tinguished lustre, in every point of view ; for even
now, she is possessed of many qualifications to
make her beloved and respected. I have not
formed such an opinion of Mr. . I am mista-

JOURNAL. 71

ken if he does not lack some essential qualifica
tions to make him either respected or admired.

The Marquis de la Fayette, has received some
letters from America, respecting a son of General
Green's, who is coming to France to be educated
with the Marquis' son George. The Marquis
says it his intention to send his son, when he is
fitted to be educated, at Harvard College. Col. H.
told him to-day, that he was not pleased with the
idea, that some of the principal people in America
should send their children to France for their ed
ucation — my papa adds, that every person ought
to be educated in the country in which they are to
live, and of which they are a part, and in a com
munity of which they are a member. Mr. D. also
conversed upon the salaries, arid manner of living,
of the ambassadors at this court. The Spanish
Ambassador, he said, had an hundred persons in
his house — fifty servants in livery, and keeps
thirty horses. The Duke of Dorset, Ambassador
from England, has fifty servants, twenty of them
in livery.

May 10th, 1785. Papa went to Versailles to
day, and took his leave of this court ; he has been
appointed to England. Mr. Jeiferson succeeds
him here.

llth, Wednesday. According to the polite in
vitation of the Baron de Stael, Ambassador from
Sweden, we dined with him to-day; he is a very

72 JOURNAL.

handsome man, a good figure, and tolerable com
plexion ; his eyes are animated ; his manners are
pleasing. It is the custom in this country to have
a suit of rooms all open for the reception of your
company, ail equally elegantly furnished. The
ambassador received us at the door of the anti-
chamber, and conducted us to the other room,
where he introduced to us a young Swede, a
Baron, who had served two years in America, in
the French army. He spoke English surprisingly
well. The dinner was studiedly simple and ele
gant — it was served in plate — the knives, forks,
and spoons of gold.

May 9th, 1785 — Auteuil, near Paris. When we
came from the Marquis' to-day, where we had
dined, as papa had business with Mr. Jefferson,
he went in the carriage with Mr. W. and Mr.
Short. Messieurs Jar vis and Randal went with
mamma and myself. While the former was in a
shop making some purchase, Mr. R. and myself
had a learned dissertation upon blushing, which
arose from a girl passing by the carriage with a
veil on, which are very common in the streets
here, made of lawn, silk, or gauze, and worn in
stead of a hat or bonnet. The latter is a thing I
never have seen in France. Mr. R. observed that
the blush of innocence was a better veil. I said,
there were few of those known in Paris. He in
quired if they had any word in the French Ian-

JOURNAL. 73

guage expressive of innocence ? There is not
any other word but innocence, and it is almost
without a use here. I said, it was a very painful
sensation — I thought it a great advantage to be
exempt from it ; he was not of this opinion. Mr.
J. who had been in the shop, came to the door of
the carriage ; Mr. R. told him of our conversation,
upon which commenced the dissertation. Mr. J.
decided not agreeably to my opinion or belief, that
we never blushed but from the consciousness of
something wrong in what was said or done, that
caused the blush. I do not believe it ; a person
so subject to blush as myself, should be interested
in removing every idea of evil from it. When
we had finished our business we went to Mr. Jef
ferson's, where I saw Miss J., a most amiable girl.
Mr. J. has not dined out these four or five months,
partly from choice. If he could discriminate, he
would sometimes favour us with his company.
From thence we went to see the abbes, and to take
leave of them. I have not seen them since the
death of the Abbe de Mably ; they were cheerful,
but their loss is great. I can truly say, that in
coming away from the house, I felt more regret
in the prospect of leaving France than I have ever
before ; they are two such good old men that one
feels for them the respect, veneration, and esteem,
that we should for a relation, who was thus ad
vanced.

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74 JOURNAL.

As we came home, we called upon Madame
Helvetius, who has been very sick lately. We
were admitted, as it was, to take leave. From the
dining-room you enter a large saloon, which was
furnished in the French style, — a number of
chairs, settees, and pictures ; in the centre was a
marble table, on which was a set of china, some
images, and in the middle, a large circle with earth,
a number of lilacs and other flowers, which re
sembled a little forest, and was very pretty. From
this we were shown to the ladies' chamber, which
is large and handsomely furnished. Madame Hel
vetius was sitting upon a settee covered up as a
bed, quite at her ease ; her dress was as usual.
She was attended by the abbe and her doctor.
Her great dog, which Mr. Franklin brought from
England, was resting before her, and the lap-dog
upon the settee ; upon the table, under a glass,
was a monument erected to the memory of her
husband, over which hung his picture, which was
very handsome. Madame H. appears to have
been a very beautiful woman, when young. A
French lady compared her to the ruins of Palmyra.
After we had passed half an hour we came away,
bidding her adieu.

My father went to Versailles to-day, and took
his leave of this court. Madame, the Marquise
de la Fayette, with her son and daughter, came
out to tea. She was obliged to return to Paris at

JOURNAL. 75

a certain hour, on account of her son, who has
lately a pension. In such a flying visit, no one
can expect any degree of sociability, or to form an
acquaintance with each other's disposition or man
ners When Madame took leave of us, she saluted
each, mamma arid myself; lately she has taken
this liberty, when meeting or parting. It is so
much the custom, with the ladies of this country,
that I believe they feel rather awkward to meet
or part with those to whom it is unknown. The
ladies kiss each other, and the gentlemen the same.
It seems a curious custom to those who are not
used to it, and caused some observation this after
noon.

Friday, May 13th. This morning, his grace the
Duke of Dorset called upon my father, with a let
ter to the custom-house officer at Dover, to permit
us to pass unsearched. He has been very polite
and friendly in his offers of any assistance that
it was in his power to offer, in a public or private
character. He informed my father to-day, that
mamma and myself must be presented to the
Queen. It was a point of etiquette not possible
to be dispensed with ; this I am very sorry to hear.
It is an houour that I would wish to be released
from.

Sunday, May 15th. This morning before nine,
we were in our carriage on our way to Ver
sailles. To-day is the fete of Penticost, upon which

76 JOURNAL.

the knights of the order, Cordon Bleu, make their
procession ; and if there are any to be created,
they are received upon this fete ; but there were
none to-day. Every Sunday is a great day at
Versailles ; but upon these fetes there are more
people than usual.

When we arrived, we entered one of the courts
before the palace, in front of which was the
king's bed-chamber, and from which there was an
entrance into the garden, to which we went first.
It is large, well arranged, and clean — the most
elegant place I have seen since I have been in
this country. There are a great number of statues
of various kinds ; some in white marble, others
in bronze ; but I had not time to view them par
ticularly or generally. There were a number of
water-works playing, which are very pretty.
There is a piece of water that has the appear
ance of a small river, but which is all conveyed
by pipes from the river Seine. Our time was so
short, that we had not an opportunity to take
even a general view of this garden, every part of
which deserves attention. From hence we went
into the gallery, which is open every Sunday for
all the world ; and apartments from it to the
Chapel. The gallery is long — there is a great
deal of looking-glass in it, and painting upon the
ceiling, which to my taste is the most improper
place in a building to put paintings ; yet there

JOURNAL. 77

are few public buildings where there are any
paintings, without a number upon the ceiling
which in general is arched. The next was
an apartment which was so full, there was scarce
any possibility of passing through ; there were
two other apartments very large and filled with
persons, before we arrived at the one where the
throne was ; in this I was more disappointed than
in any of the others. In the apartment where the
throne of the King of France was, the architec
ture was ancient, and there were several pictures,
one of Louis XV, and another of his queen. From
this we went through two others before we enter
ed the gallery of the Chapel ; here were a number
of guards — no one could enter without their per
mission. By their having the Cross of St. Louis,
I supposed they were noblemen. We had not
been apprized of this ceremony, and therefore had
no places engaged. It was impossible to obtain
a front seat ; it was a great favour we obtained any.
The guards were as polite as possible, and grant
ed as much favour as their situations allowed.
The knights of the Cordon Bleu all came in, and
took their seats on one side of the altar, very ele
gantly dressed ; the blue ribbons across the shoul
der, and over their coats a blue cloak, with a star
embroiderd on the left side. The lady who goes
round to collect the money in a small velvet purse,
entered the Church. She was more elegantly
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78 JOURNAL.

dressed than any other person. After the king had
entered, she went round to the knights, and with
a courtesey the most graceful, presented her little
purse to each. I am sure no one could have refused
putting a louis in. The poor might perhaps, with
more reason, thank her appearance, than bless the
generosity of the donors. But why should I put
this construction? I am sure I have no right to.
The queen did not appear to-day. There was in
the gallery only Madame la Comptesse D'Artois,
and Madame Elizabeth, sister to the king. She
seemed very attentive to the mass, and paid very
little attention to any thing but her book.

We then left the gallery of the Church to go to
the king's gallery, where all the knights returned
and followed by his majesty and his two brothers.

London, June 1st, 1785. To-day my father
went with Lord Carmarthen to the Palace, where
he found many gentlemen, known to him before.
Lord C. introduced him to his majesty, George
III. Papa made his speech when he presented
his letter; his majesty was affected and said,
" Sir, your words have been so proper, upon this
occasion, that I cannot but say I am gratified that
you are the man chosen to be the Minister."

June 4th. This is the anniversary of his majes
ty's birth; consequently there was a Levee at
St. James. On this day their majesties speak to
every person present. The King speaks first to

JOURNAL. 79

the Foreign Ministers. He conversed a quarter of
an hour with the Spanish Minister, upon music,
of which he said he was passionately fond, par
ticularly of Handel's ; he respected the memory of
Handel, for he owed to him the greatest happiness
of his life, and observed that Handel had said of
him when young, " that young man will preserve
my music." My father observed that he had never
heard any thing like conversation at court before.
One of the Ambassadors who had attended at the
French court 30 years, said, Monsieur the king's
brother, had asked every time he had been to
court, which was generally every Tuesday, " have
you come from Paris to-day ?" and no other ques
tion.

September 2d. About twelve o'clock, Mrs.
Smith from Clapham, and Miss B. called upon
us. Mamma was just dressing, so I had to appear.
Miss B. began to question me, as to which coun
try I liked best, France or England? I would
not give a preference. "But you undoubtedly pre
fer England to America?" " I must indeed con
fess, Miss, that I do not at present." Was it possi
ble ! I acknowledged the excellencies of this coun
try. There was more to please and gratify the
senses ; but I had formed such friendships and at
tachments in America, as would ever render it dear
to me. " But surely, the culture is carried to a
much greater degree of perfection here than in

80 JOURNAL.

America." " Granted." " And you must," said
Miss B. very pertly, "find a great difference be
tween America and this country?" "In what,
pray, Miss?" said 1. "Why in the general ap
pearance, in the people, their manners, customs,
behaviour, and in every thing." " Indeed," said
I, "I do not; there is so great a similarity in
the manners of the people, in the two coun
tries, that I should take them for one. If any
thing, I find a greater degree of politeness and
civility in America, than in the people of this
country. And the lower class of people in Amer
ica, are infinitely superior to the lower class of
people here." Their astonishment was great — was
it possible I could think so! Surely the distress
ing war had been an impediment to all improve
ment and education. Dr. Bancroft came in, and
passed an hour. After he had gone, we had some
conversation upon the pictures below. Papa said
they were spoiled ; he was not at all content with
his own, yet thought it the best that had ever
been taken of him. No one had yet caught his
character. The ruling principles in his moral
character, were candour, probity, and decision.
I think he discovered more knowledge of himself
than usually falls to the lot of man ; for, from my
own observation, I think these are characteristic
of him ; and I add another, which is sensibility.
I have never discovered a greater portion of can-

JOURNAL. 81

dour in any character. I hope if I inherit any of
his virtues it may be this ; it is a necessary at
tendant through life. In whatever intercourse we
have with society, we find it necessary in a greater
or less degree ; and in the mind of a woman, I
esteem it particularly amiable.

November 3d. We attended the drawing-room
for the third time. At two o'clock we went, and
were in season. There were most of the Foreign
Ministers present, but not their ladies. All hough
I have seen them all, I do not know many of them.
Their majesties came about three o'clock.
There were not many ladies or gentlemen — the
Prince of Wales, the Princess Royal and Princess
Augusta accompanied their majesties. There were
present more handsome women than I had seen be
fore. Lady Stormont is the handsomest woman I
have seen in Europe. When she conversed, her air
and manner was graceful, dignified, modest, and
charming. The king, queen, and prince had a
great deal to say to her, particularly the latter ;
he talked with most of the Foreign Ministers
whom he knew, and is, I think, a handsome man.
Of the princesses, I am most pleased with the
person, manners, and deportment, of the Princess
Royal; there is dignity, grace, and affability, with
a certain degree of steadiness which I like, in her
manners.

There are two characters the very opposite to

82 JOURNAL.

each other, both pleasing to me ; and a woman
to be agreeable must possess either one or the oth
er. The sprightliness, vivacity, animation of a
French woman, that will inspire every one who
sees her with the same spirit, or a sedate thought
ful manner, animated and dignified. Lady Stor-
mont possesses the latter. Although I am pleased
for the time with the former, yet I approve most of
the last, as it is best calculated to support with dig
nity and propriety, every situation to which we are
subject in human life. Persons sometimes mistake
their own characters, and endeavour to appear
the one, when the other would best become them.
There are an immense number who belong to
neither, nor can by their utmost exertions acquire
either.

Lady C. and daughter were remarkable, not
for their beauty, but for the elegance of their dress.
The lady made herself conspicuous, by the extreme
anxiety to have her daughter spoken to by the
prince; but all her efforts were ineffectual. He
stood and conversed an hour next her, with Lady
Stormont, but made no effort to speak to Miss C.
We returned home at five. The Chevalier de
Pinto, the Portuguese Minister, spent an hour or
two with my father. I wrote for the latter. I think
the Secretary must be out of his senses to remain
so long from his duty.

December llth.li We called upon Mrs. Jebb,

JOURNAL. 83

where mamma, the Doctor, and Mrs. Jebb, had
such a dish of politics as suited all their tastes.
The Doctor is very much interested in America,
and solicitous for her welfare ; at least he seems so,
nay more than seems. Mrs. Jebb is very earnest
and equally anxious. I am diverted when she
makes inquiries of me, about politics, who never
thought, or talked of them in my life ; but she does
not find me very intelligent on the subject, conse
quently she will not have a very high opinion of
me, I suppose ; and I do not find that my happi
ness is in any \vay dependent upon that.

14th. My father presented Col. H. at court to
day. He seemed to think his majesty, George
the Third, much like the rest of the world. Col.
H. went to make his visits to all the Foreign Min
isters — how much time it is necessary to spend
in trifles — yet I do not know why one trifle is not
as important as another, and I begin to think our
whole lives nothing else. The gentlemen dined
at Mr. Paradise's, and afterwards went to the
Royal Society. They called upon us about nine,
and passed an agreeable hour. I have daily more
and more reason to observe the very great impor
tance of early education, and the necessity of
forming the first habits with propriety. If this is
riot attended to, you see a man's whole life stain
ed and spoiled, by habits and customs, which bear
some resemblance to vulgarity. Col. H. is one

84 JOURNAL.

instance of this. I do not know what his early
education was, but from some things that mark
his conversation now. I will not draw a compar
ison between him and his friend, although the ad
vantage would be on the side I wish ; yet as the
former has many excellencies, let them cover the
foibles, or rather inaccuracies which may appear.

23d June. My father returned from Windsor,
highly pleased with his visit, and particularly
with Mr. Herschel. The evening being cloudy,
there was no star-gazing, or observing the moon,
which was the object of the visit. My father rep
resents Mr. Herschel to be a man, whose attention
to study does not render him silent or absent, but
as a cheerful and intelligent companion ; com
municative of his knowledge, and very agreeable.
Indeed I have never known him so much grati
fied by a visit of any kind before.

Many, many are the ups and downs of the spir
its. It is said, in a multitude of counsel there is
safety; but I say, that in a variety of opinions
there is perplexity.

1787, 20th July. This day, three years ago,
we landed on this island from America.

We set our faces towards Plymouth, and lodged
at Winchester.

Sunday, 22d. My father went to the Cathedral
in the morning. This town was the residence of
King Charles, and here are the remains of the

JOURNAL. 85

castle built by him. They relate to you a num
ber of anecdotes respecting him.

There was in the twelfth century, a Sieur de
Quincy, who was created Earl of Winchester,
by King John. The history mentions that in the
thirteenth century, the family became extinct, and
the title was given to Lord de Spencer. Sieur de
Q,uincy was one who signed Magna Charta.
My father supposes the Q,uincys in America to
have descended from him, and was solicitous to
trace the descent ; he may be better acquainted
with the importance of it than I am. To me it
appears quite a matter of small consequence.
We can all trace our descent from Adam, and no
one can go beyond him.

26th. We arrived at Axminster ; it is the first
town in the county of Devonshire. We have
come through Surry, Hunt, Hampshire, Wiltshire,
and Dorsetshire.

Mr. Cranch soon waited upon us, and brought
me a most acceptable present, two letters from my
absent friend at Madrid.

27th. We concluded to pass this day here,
being very well accommodated with apartments.
Mr. Cranch engaged to dine with us, and came
to attend us to take a view of the manufactories
of this place, which are of carpet and tape. We
then visited the Church, which is very old ; the
paintings and monuments were miserable, except
8

86 JOURNAL.

one, of which Mr. Cranch had the direction ; it
is to the memory of a lady ; the device represents
the dove taking the veil from the urn which con
tains her ashes. Mr. C. dined with us, and re
quested we would take tea at his cottage ; he
came at six to attend us. He lives in a small,
neat cottage ; every thing around him has an air
of taste, united with neatness. He has a variety
of small prints, the heads of many eminent per
sons, and the six prints, Hogarth's representation
of la marriage a la mode. He has also a painting
of Sir Walter Raleigh, which is thought an origi
nal picture ; it was lately left, by an old gentle
man who died, to the British Museum. Mr. C.
says he has a great inclination never to deliver
it ; he thinks it ought to be preserved sacred in
this county, because its original was born here in
the parish of Baidley, and that Sir Walter's cha
racter stands very high throughout the county of
Devonshire. Papa observed that his character
did not appear unexceptionable ; he answered
that none of his faults were known here ; they be
lieved only in his virtues and excellencies.

We left Axminster at nine in the morning;
Mr. Cranch took a seat in the post-chaise with
papa ; mamma rode in the coach. The road
continues very mountainous to Honiton, a stage
of ten miles from Axminster ; just before you
enter the former, there is a valley which is much

JOURNAL. 87

admired for its fertility and beauty. The latter
part of the road answers Mr. Boylston's descrip
tion — that the roads were cut or worn down many
feet, and the hedges so thick and so high, that one
had no prospect of the country around — which is
the case. Mr. Cranch bore these inconveniences
with but little patience ; he pulled down walls.
and tore gates up from hinges, bolts and bars, like
a Samson.

These persons were all delighted to see us, and
the sincerity of their professions are indubitable.
Mr. Bowering in particular, expressed his respect
for my father ; he said he was a man of no cere
mony, but he hoped he should not find him de
ficient in sincerity. He offered us some cherries
from his garden, and upon mamma's saying they
were the best of the kind she had tasted, he ex
pressed his satisfaction, and said, " if they were
golden cherries, she would be welcome to them."
It is a great satisfaction to be thus esteemed ; and
this kind of undisguised respect and sincerity is
extremely grateful to the heart.

Exeter. My father has gone this morning with
Mr. Bowering, to call on Mr. Twogood, who was
formerly the dissenting minister in this place, but
is now so old as to be unable to perform the du
ties of his former station, and has retired. These
people are all dissenters; I believe all the dis-

88 JOURNAL.

senters in this country, have been in favour of the
American cause.

In the neighbourhood of Plymouth, we vis
ited the seat of Lord Edgcomb. Mount Edg-
comb is a peninsula formed by a ridge of rocks,
which connects it with the town of Stonehouse.
The lawn by which one ascends to the house,
contains 60 acres ; on each side are large rows of
trees, of chestnut and ash. The house stands
upon the side of a hill ; it is old, and built upon
a very small, contracted scale, and before the
family was ennobled. I do not believe, from the
appearance of things around, that this event has
enlarged their minds. One circumstance had a
very singular effect upon mine ; which was, that
when we landed we observed a good natured
looking man, who I supposed to have been some
servant of Lord Edgcomb's, placed there to give
directions to those who might visit his seat, until
he very civilly accosted us, desiring we would
pay our passage, which was two pence each per
son, and informed us that he payed Lord Edgcomb
400 guineas a year for this situation, and that the
perquisites of it amounted to 700, and observed it
took a great many two pences to yield this sum.
He owns all the boats which are kept on this
side. The grounds contain 600 acres, the park
300, which lies wholly uncultivated ; it was
stored with the finest deer 1 have seen ; they

JOURNAL. 89

were the forest deer, and much larger than those
in Hyde Park.

3d. August. Mr. Cranch, who is very fond of
walking, and thinks twenty or thirty miles a day
necessary for a sedentary life, and who talks often
miles as a morning or evening airing, invited us
to take a walk round the town, and upon some of
the eminences which command extensive pros
pects.

12th. Bristol. We visited Lord Clifford's
grounds ; they are bounded on one side by the
river Severn, and on the other by the Avon ; they
form the point of land between these two rivers ;
in some places they are six or seven miles across.
The gardener could not inform us how many acres
they contained, but said they produced six or
seven thousand a year. This place has more nat
ural beauties than any I have yet seen ; it is kept
in good order, and possesses the four requisites to
render it perfect — lawn, upland, wood, and water.
There is a curious hermitage made of the roots of
trees, which was designed by the present Lady
Clifford. We returned to Bristol much delighted
with our visit.

Oxford. In the afternoon we took a guide, and
went to see the Colleges. First, the Bodleian Li
brary, and Picture Gallery. The latter is fur
nished with valuable portraits of the founder and
benefactors, and of other eminent men, as also
8*

90 JOURNAL.

with cabinets of medals, and cases of books ;
about the middle of it stands a noble statue in
brass, of Philip, Earl of Pembroke, designed by
Rubens. This room is a continuation of the
Bodleian Library ; under it are the schools of the
several sciences.

The Bodleian, or Public Library, is a part of
the above mentioned edifice ; the vestibule, or
first gallery, was built by Sir Thomas Bodley,
who furnished the whole, with a collection made
with great care; he likewise assigned an estate
for the maintenance of a librarian, adding a body
of statutes for the regulation of his new institu
tion, by which he justly deserved the name of the
founder of the library. He died January 28th,
1612.

We then visited New College, which was foun
ded by William of Wykeham. and finished 1385.
In this college in the ante-chapel, there are some
fine paintings upon glass, designed by Sir Joshua
Reynolds, and executed by Mr. Jarvis ; it con
tains seven allegorical figures, representing the
four cardinal, and three Christian virtues. Tem
perance pouring water out of a larger vessel into
a smaller ; her common attribute, the bridle, lies
at her feet. Fortitude in armour, her head rest
ing on a broken column, her form robust, her look
bold and resolute, a lion her attendant. Faith
standing fixedly on both feet, and bearing a cross,
her eyes and hands raised to heaven. Hope

JOURNAL. 91

looking up to the same heaven, and springing
so eagerly towards it, that her feet scarce
touch the ground ; part of an anchor her emblem.

Justice looking with a steady and piercing eye,
through the dark shade that her arm casts over
her face, in her left hand she holds the steelyard,
her right supports the sword.

Prudence beholding as in a mirror, the actions
and manners of others, for the purpose of regula
ting her own ; on her left arm an arrow joined
with a Remora, the respective emblems of swift
ness and slowness. Prudence being a medium
between both.

The middle group, representing Charity, is wor
thy of particular notice ; the fondling of the in
fant, the importunity of the boy, and the placid
affection of the girl, together with the decided af
fection of the mother ; are judiciously marked
with that knowledge of character which is con
spicuous in the works of the eminent artist who
gave the design.

As a basis to the great work, in a space of eighteen
feet long and ten wide, is represented the nativity
of Christ, a composition of thirteen human figures.

From New College we went to Queen's College,
founded by Robert Eglesfel, confessor to Queen
Philippa, A. D. 1340. It is confined to the reception
of scholars from Cumberland and Westmoreland.

Thursday, 16th. We dined early and went to
Blenheim, the seat of the Duke of Marlborough.

92 JOURNAL.

It is about ten miles from Oxford. The hall is a
magnificent apartment, it extends to the height
of the house, and is supported by Corinthian pillars.
The ceiling was painted by Sir James Thornhill,
allegorically representing Victory crowning John
Duke of Marlborough, and pointing to the plan
of the battle of Blenheim. The library is one
hundred and eighty-three feet long ; the Doric pi
lasters of marble, with the complete columns of
the same, which support a rich entablature ; the
window frames of dark mahogany ; the surround
ing basement of black marble, are in the highest
taste and finish. It was originally intended as a
gallery for paintings, but the late justly lamented
Duke added utility to elegance ; having furnished
it with the noble collection of books made by Lord
Sunderland, his grace's father. Their number is
said to amount to 24,000 volumes, which have
been allowed to be worth £30,000, and are said
to be the best private collection in England ; they
are kept under gilt wire lattices. At one end of
the room is a highly finished statue of Queen
Anne, with this inscription :

To THE MEMORY OF QUEEN ANNE,

UNDER WHOSE AUSPICES,
JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH,

CONQUERED;

AND TO WHOSE MUNIFICENCE, HE AND HIS POSTERITY,

WITH GRATITUDE,
OWE THE POSSESSION OF BLENHEIM.

JOURNAL. 93

The gardens are spacious, and include a great
variety of prospects ; the noble descent on the
southwest side ; the vastness and beauty of the
water ; the grandeur of the opposite bank ; the
cascade, new bridge, and lower piece of water ;
form altogether such an assemblage of beautiful
objects, as are perhaps no where else to be
found. The gardens on the south side seem
to lose themselves in the park, amidst a pro
fusion of venerable oaks, and intersected avenues ;
from whence they derive an air of confusion and
indeterminate extent, which is very pleasing.

These gardens have been enlarged, and were
thrown into the form they now wear, by the pre
sent Duke of Marlborough; he has likewise beau
tified them, by the addition of some judicious or
naments. The gardener has lived on the place
twenty-five years, and feels himself entitled to
make his own remarks, and offers them, with more
wit than modesty.

These heights command a variety of beautiful
and extensive prospects of the sea and land. We
numbered ninety vessels of all kinds, within one
view. But after all, neither Mount Edgcomb nor
Plymouth, or any other place that I have seen in
Europe, will bear a comparison with Milton Hill ;*
some might call this prejudice, perhaps it is ; our
attendant told us that the fortifications were only

* Near Boston.

94 JOURNAL.

for ornament, not strength ; they are built of stone
instead of earth,

Our walk yesterday of four miles, and the
warmth of the weather, rendered the present ex
cursion rather fatiguing.

London, Nov. 1787. We had a representation of
seven states to-day at dinner. Messrs. Hindman
and Forrest from Maryland, Mr. Shippen from
Pennsylvania, Mr. Brackstone from Virginia, Mr.
Edwards from Carolina ; Mr. Trumbull from
Connecticut, Colonel Smith from New- York, Mr.
Cutting and ourselves from Massachusetts.

We received an account of the result of the
Convention, entitled the Constitution, which is
recommended by them to the consideration of the
states, for their approbation and adoption. My
father approves of it in general ; some persons
would have preferred a system that would have
given us more consequence in the eyes of foreign
ers. The powers they have given to the President
are equal to those of many monarchs.

I do not pretend to be a judge of this subject ; but
it appears to me, that we are not yet prepared for
such a system. The principles of equality which
we yet possess, would not admit of one person's
being made so distinguished, as the name alone
of a king would have done ; besides, we have no
person who possesses sufficient fortune, to render
him respectable ; for to me it appears, that in a
monarchy, power and riches are important requi-

JOURNAL. 95

sites, and the people of our country would never
consent to contribute to the elevation of any person
to so high a dignity. They chouse to preserve
the idea, that every one may aspire to the highest
offices of the state.

Saturday, 3d. Mr. Jennings dined with us.
Every person appears much gratified with our Con
stitution ; and the accounts from America are fa
vourable for its reception and adoption by the
states, which give their friends on this side of the
water much pleasure. Many persons say here,
that they have followed my father's plan, and
taken his book for their model. The ill-wishers
to America say it is too good for them to adopt.

Notwithstanding a bad cold, I wrapped myself
up, and went to the play, to see Mrs. Abington as
Belinda, in All in the Wrong. The characters
were well supported ; I think I never saw a part
better performed than Lady Restless. Messrs.
Shippen, Cutting, and Trumble, were in our box.

I confess I am not an admirer of Mrs. Abington ;
she is much celebrated, but is not to my taste ; she
is now sixty years old, and no one would suppose
her more than three and twenty. She is not to
be compared to Miss Farren, whose easy, graceful,
affable manner of doing every thing is charming.
But Mrs. A. is the fashion, or has been some
twenty years past, and still preserves her theatri
cal fame.

Thursday, 30th. Mamma and myself concluded

96 JOURNAL.

to take my son to-morrow morning, and go out
fourteen miles to meet his father, but I was most
agreeably disappointed at his presenting himself
about two o'clock ; finding no inconvenience from
moving rapidly, he came on much faster than he
had any idea of being able to ; although he had
concealed from me his long and tedious illness.
But thanks to that Being who sustains, supports,
and regulates us through this life, he is again re
stored to health and to his family. To describe the
sensations of the mind upon this occasion were
vain ; from the memory they can never be erased.

97

LINES,

Addressed in 1S38, to a Portrait of Mrs. SMITH, taken by Copley
in 1787.

Sweet lady ! one could gaze for aye

Upon thy likeness; — purity itself looks out

From the still depths of those blue eyes

Where love and gentleness seem mingled into one.

There is an angel sweetness round thy face,

Such as we dream of for a fairer world —

And a smile, too, as innocent and bright

As Paradise beheld, when Eve first saw

The golden sunlight and the fresh young flowers.

Methinks, too, thou wilt speak, and I'd fain hear

What gentle words those lips would murmur,

That seem to prison up some tender speech

To melt the heart when uttered.

All silent —

Ah! 'tis but the semblance of thyself, fair lady ;
Thy beauteous form is faded, and thy spirit
All angelic, now is disenthralled of clay ;
Yet do thy virtues, purity and love,
Fresh and undimm'd, like this sweet portrait, live
In those whose hearts are warm'd with blood from thine,
Whose souls have caught thy gentleness,
And from whose eyes beam forth the tender looks
That freshen life, guide us to good, and sweeten
Many a bitter cup. Oh ! as they pass thee, may they stop
And gazing muse — how fade we all, and perish! —
Life is a dream : sweet, if like thine 'tis past,
If wasted — bitter when we wake at last.

A J. D.

98

TO MRS. CAROLINE A. DE WINDT.

Washington, 19th March, 1819.
MY DEAR NIECE:

I gave the portrait of my beloved arid lamented
sister, your dear mother, to mine without reserve,
and to be disposed of at her pleasure. And how
ever gratifying it would be to me to be the pos
sessor of it myself, I acknowledge your still
stronger claim to it — and were it mine to give
away again, would ask your acceptance of it. I
have no such power, for it is yours by the dona
tion of her to whom alone it belonged. Yet the
truly delicate and affectionate doubt of my ever
honoured father, which induced you to make the
inquiries in your letter, deserves all my gratitude,
and excites in my breast emotions of a soothing,
though melancholy pleasure. From the occur
rence of this incident, I cherish the hope, that
while the picture shall habitually present you the
faithful image of her whom it represents, and the
blessed memory of her from whom you will have
received it, with those deep and tender recollec
tions, will be sometimes congenially mingled the
thought of him, among the purest joys of whose
life, is the happiness of having been the brother
and the son of such unsurpassed excellence upon
earth, of your affectionate friend and uncle,

JOHN duiNCY ADAMS.

MEMOIR

WILLIAM S. SMITH.

THE editor is enabled to furnish the following sketch,
chiefly collected from a private journal. In 22 battles of the
revolutionary war, was the subject of this memoir engaged.

W. S. SMITH graduated in Princeton College,
in the year 1774, and returning to the city of
New-York, his native place, and the residence of
his family, studied the law with Samuel Jones,
Esq. until the revolutionary war commenced.

At an early period of the revolutionary war,
the depredations committed by the British, upon
the estate belonging to the father of Colonel
Smith, upon Long-Island, were extensive. His
maternal grandfather had been killed in the British
service, on board of a man-of-war, and his widow
received, until the age of ninety, the period of her
death, the half pay of Captain Stephens, her hus
band.

100 MEMOIR.

She remained in the City of New- York, during
the whole of the war, visited, by the permission
of the British commander, by her daughter Mrs.
Smith, who was her only child, and her grand
children, protected by a flag of truce.

Owing to these circumstances, there existed in
the family a divided feeling. And when a sword
and a major's commission, with the entire restora
tion of the property belonging to the family, were
offered by the British commander to a young man
not twenty years of age, provided he would enter
the service of his Britainic Majesty, the mother
of Col. Smith warmly advocated his acceptance
of terms so advantageous to herself and children,
extremely doubtful, as it then was, in what way
the struggle for the independence of America
would terminate.

A family council was called ; the question pro
posed, when the son gave his answer in the fol
lowing words :

" If it is your wish, madam, it shall be done ;
but from this hour, all intercourse with me and
my family is cut off forever." His father, who
had walked the room during the scene deeply
agitated, applaudingly exclaimed, " I knew how
my boy would decide."

He entered the service as a volunteer at an
early period, and in the summer of 1776, was ap
pointed aid^de-camp to Major General Sullivan,

MEMOIR. 101

with the rank of major, served in that capacity in
the battle of Long-Island, and was the only aid-
de-camp with the general in that actior.,hr which
the whole corps were dispersed, killed," 'or made
prisoners, with very few exceptions0. vTho geiv
eral fell into the enemy's hands, and Major Smith
retired to the lines at Brooklyn, where he remain
ed with General Washington until the retreat from
the island, and was one of the last officers who
quitted it, coming off with the commander in chief
in his barge.

Major Smith continued with General Wash
ington, and retired with him from the city to the
heights of Harlem. He brought off the garrison
by orders from the commander in chief, on the
15th September, from the fort commanding the
passage through Hurl Gate, and opposed to the
British batteries on the opposite shore, under a
heavy and incessant fire. In the action on the
16th September, on Harlem Heights, he served
as aid-de-camp to Major Gen. Green, who com
manded the advanced attack on the British, was
wounded and fell from his horse on the field of
battle at the close of the action, and was brought
off the field by Col. Carey, aid-de-camp to the
commander in chief, and Lieut. Joseph Webb, of
the first Connecticut regiment. He remained un
der the surgeon's hands at West Chester, until
the landing of the British troops at Throgg's Neck

102 MEMOIR.

in October, when, with a corporal and six men, he
cut away tha bridge connecting Throgg's Point
wit|i^thtj;-mafn, at the town of West Chester,
which -checked^the progress of the British troops,
\\tflo remained on the peninsula until the morning
of Ithe'lSth, when re-embarking, they crossed the
outlet of East Chester creek, and proceeding to
Pell's bridge, brought on a very severe skirmish
with the advance corps of Sullivan's army, com
manded by Cols. Glover and Sheppard -} when the
enemy filed to their right, occupying New Ro-
chelle and the adjacent country on the sound.
Gen. Sullivan being exchanged, and in command
on the heights of East Chester, commanding Pell's
Bridge, Major Smith joined him in the action,
from New Rochelle, where he was under the care
of Dr. Bailey, his wound not well. He proceeded
with his general to the action of White Plains,
where his division continued under a severe fire
nearly two days, covering the removal of the
stores on the Plains, to the second position.

While the enemy lay within commanding dis
tance of the village, Major Smith, with a small
detachment at night, destroyed all the forage in
the village and its vicinity in front, and returned
to his post.

The British troops retiring to winter quarters,
possessed themsel ves of Fort Washington on York
Island, and Fort Lee on the Jersey shore. Sir

MEMOIR. 103

William Howe, throwing the right wing of his
army into the Jersey, under command of Lord
Cornwallis, Gen. Washington left Generals Lee
and Sullivan with his troops, near the White
Plains, and joined Gen. Green in front of the
British army, but was obliged to submit to the
pressure of the British, who, advancing in vigour,
forced the commander in chief to place the Dela
ware between the two armies, as the only barrier
he could present, that would afford rest to his
troops, harassed by the pressure of superior force,
the badness of the roads, and the inclemency of
the season.

During this period, Gen. Lee gave Major Smith
the charge of a flag of truce, with important des
patches to Sir William Howe at New- York. Ma
jor Smith proceeded to King's Bridge, the British
advanced post, resided several days with the ene
my, and returned to Gen. Lee, having transacted
the business committed to his charge to his full
satisfaction.

In consequence of orders from head quarters,
on the western banks of the Delaware, Gen. Lee
crossed the Hudson, with an intention to rein
force the main army. During this march Major
Smith left Gen. Sullivan's family, and served as
aid-de-camp to Gen. Lee, the commanding general.
On Lee's capture at Baskenbridge, Smith rejoined
Sullivan, and crossing the Delaware, encamped

104 MEMOIR.

at Newtown, the head quarters of the American
army.

Emboldened by this reinforcement. Washing
ton re-crossed the Delaware on the night of the
25th of December, and surprised the Hessians at
Trenton, commanded by Col. Roll. In this mem
orable action, Major Smith acted so conspicuous
a part, entering the town with the advance troops
\ /of Sullivan's division, taking possession of the
Mill Bridge, and the commanding western branch
of the mill stream, and subsequently, personally
taking the commanding officer of the Hessians
from his horse at the head of his troops, at the
moment of surrender, that on the last of January,
1777, Gen. Washington presented Major Smith
with a lieutenant-colonelcy, as a mark of his par
ticular consideration.

After returning with the prisoners over the
Delaware, General Washington gave Col. Smith
the command of a flag of truce to proceed to
Princeton, the then advanced post of the enemy
in the Jerseys, with despatches arid money for
Gen. Lee, then a prisoner at New-Brunswick, and
to reconnoitre the enemy.

This duty was performed with correctness and
despatch. In the meantime the American army
re-crossed the Delaware, and took post at Trenton,
where Col. Smith rejoined the troops when re
turning with his flag. The winter campaign was

MEMOIR. 105

re-opened with vigour, and the British were foiled
in the Jerseys.

Col. Smith retiring from camp on the recruit
ing service, appeared in the field again at the
head of a well appointed regiment, and joined
Gen. Putnam on the eastern banks of the Hud
son, at the time Sir Henry Clinton, after reducing
forts Clinton and Montgomery, was pressing to
Albany to relieve Burgoyne, then on the point of
surrendering to Gates. Sir Henry being informed
of the Convention of Saratoga, burnt Esopus, dis
tressed the settlers on both banks of the Hudson,
and returned to New- York.

Colonel Smith being joined by the regiments of
Henly and Jackson, of which as senior officer he
took command, proceeded to White Marsh in
Pennsylvania, and joined the army commanded
by Gen. Washington. On the advance of the
British from Philadelphia, threatening the right
of the Americans, Col. Smith was posted on the
right to defend an abatised bridge and mills.
Upon the reconnoitre of the position, the British
retired from the right, and presented themselves
in front of the centre of the American line. Col.
Smith was then called from the right, and ordered
to occupy two large stone houses in front of the
centre, and between the two armies, to abatis the
houses with an adjoining orchard, and defend the
post to the last extremity. The orders being exe-

106 MEMOIR.

cuted, and the troops posted, a close reconnoitre
of position took place on the part of the enemy, a
rapid movement from centre to left followed, but
the position was not thought assailable, and the
British army retired to Philadelphia.

The Americans crossed the Schuylkill, and
went into cantonments at Valley Forge. Col.
Smith with the regiments of Lee, Henly, and
Jackson, went into quarters at Lancaster, and in
the spring marching to head quarters, was en
trusted by the commander in chief with the com
mand of the advance post at the Gulf Mills, six
miles in front ; Col. Morgan with his riflemen,
and Col. Kee with his legion extending to the
right. He here commanded with vigilance and
attention, until the evacuation of Philadelphia,
when with his corps he entered that city under
the orders of General Arnold, crossed the Dela
ware, and overtook the British troops at Allen
Town, hung on their rear with effect to the plains
of Monmouth. Here 3000 picked men, under the
command of Major General Lee, (he being then
exchanged) were detached to attack the British,
then in full march. Col. Smith, connected with
Butler and Jackson, were ordered to the front, as
the advanced corps of Lee's division, commenced
the well known action on the plains of Monmouth,
and aided in supporting it through the day.

The British pursued their march to Middletown

MEMOIR. 107

Point, and proceeded to New- York. The Ameri
can army took post at the White Plains, and Col.
Smith was detached with his regiment to the at
tack of Newport, in Rhode-Island, under the or
ders of General Sullivan. After making good their
landing on the island, his regiment was the ad
vance corps of the army in approaching Newport,
and lay in advance during the whole siege. For
the security of the camp, 300 picked men were pla
ced under the command of Col. Smith, and an
equal number under Colonels Lawrence and Flue-
ry, who were required to lay every night between
the lines in such positions as their judgments di
rected, to check a sortie, or prevent a surprise of
the camp. When the siege was raised. Smith's re
giment was the covering regiment of the retreat,
and distinguished itself in the action on Wind
mill Hill, supporting the position with vigour from
sunrise until ten o'clock, when the corps was
relieved by other troops and ordered to retire
for refreshment. The action continuing lightly
through the day — about 4 P. M. glowed with
increased vigour — a Hessian regiment having
possessed themselves of a strong wall, Smith's
regiment was ordered to advance and dispossess
them ; this was done with alacrity, and the post
sustained through the night.

On the ensuing evening, General Sullivan,
being under the necessity of evacuating the island,

108 MEMOIR.

selected four regiments to cover the retreat. Col.
Smith commanded one of these, the orders being,
in case of the enemy's advancing, that the action
should be supported with determined vigour.
The retreat was successfully conducted, and the
troops went into winter quarters at Providence
and the adjacent villages. Col. Smith was here
detached with 400 men and took charge of the
post at Updik's, Newtown, 25 miles in advance,
which he supported through the winter.

In the spring, General Sullivan being ordered
take command of the western army, solicited
and obtained General Washington's permission,
that Col. Smith should accompany him on the
expedition. General Hand, who commanded at
Wyoming, called on the commanding general for
aid, the savages closely besetting the garrison and
village. Six strong companies of light infantry
accordingly detached under the command of Col.
Smith who, traversing the wilderness, arrived to
the great joy of the inhabitants and the garrison,
and encamping on the right of the fort, restored
tranquillity to the settlement.

The savages moving down the country, with
an intention to interrupt the passage of the bat-
teaux loaded with provisions and stores, at the
Nesnepack falls, on the Susquehannah, Col. Smith
was detached with 500 men to cover the passage,
and convey the stores to the fort, the place of
deposit. This was performed in five days, the

MEMOIR. 109

detachment and batteaux arriving in safety, the
savages being totally defeated and their country
laid waste, the troops went into cantonment in
the vicinity of Morris Town, winter of '79 and '80.

In the year 1777, when a part of the American
army were on their march through the Jerseys,
the roads being in a bad condition, the camp
equipage, and the provision wagons were impeded
for a considerable number of hours, which caused
the advanced corps to halt ; and the commanding
officer, Major General de la Fayette, growing im
patient at the delay, called for Col. Smith, one
of his aids-de-camp, to demand the cause. The
General was very angry when informed that it
was owing to the Quarter Master's forward wagon
being stuck in the mud, and none in the rear
could advance a step, until the provision wagon
was dug out.

This excuse so exasperated the General against
the Quarter Master, that he rather hastily per
haps, declared that he deserved to be hung. His
aid replied, "if you will sign a warrant for that
purpose, it shall be instantly executed." The
warrant was drawn, but not executed, as the em
barrassment in the passage had in the mean time
been removed.

On the opening of the next campaign, Col,
Smith's regiment was ordered to the front, in con
junction with three others, composing the Jersey
10

110 MEMOIR.

Brigade, and covered the country and towns of
Newark and Elizabeth, until General Sterling, at
the head of a strong column of British troops,
crossing from Staten Island, took up their line of
march to Springfield. Col. Smith began the action
with this column at sunrise, and, aided by the first
Jersey regiment, supported it until three in the af
ternoon. General Sterling was disabled by the
fire of the Pickett, on his first landing, and his
army retired on the second night to Elizabeth-
town point, and returned to Staten Island. In a
short time, however, the enemy re-appeared under
the command of General Knyphausen, who press
ing as far as the first bridge of Springfield, which
was supported by Col. Angel's regiment of Rhode
Island. Col. Smith with the second Jersey regi
ment was stationed at the second bridge, to cover
the troops then in action at the first, with orders
to support the post, until the army commanded
by Greene should have completed its formation on
the short hills in rear. This duty was performed
with such spirit and brilliancy, that Col. Smith
was honoured by the particular thanks of Generals
Washington and Greene.

After several ineffectual movements, the enemy
again retreated to their islands, and the Ameri
cans took post at Hackensack and the English
neighbourhood. In this position, a corps of light
infantry consisting of three thousand picked men,

MEMOIR. Ill

was formed into two brigades, under Brigadier
Generals Hand and Poor, forming one division,
commanded by Major General the Marquis de la
Fayette. Col. Smith was appointed adjutant
general of this corps, and served with it the ensu
ing campaign, until the march of Lord Cornwal-
lis into Virginia, and his taking post at York and
Gloucester, determined General Washington to
march from the Hudson and attack him.

Col. Smith was then called by General Wash
ington from the southern army, and appointed
his aid-de-camp, in which capacity he served at
the siege of York Town, and the surrender of
Lord Cornwallis. On the surrender of York
Town, Col. Smith was the officer by whom Lord
Cornwallis and General O'Hara were presented
to the commander in chief, and to whom the di
rection of the interior arrangement was commit
ted. After passing the winter with the General
at Philadelphia, he accompanied him to the Hud
son, and was appointed to command the advanced
post of the army at Dobb's Ferry. The General
also appointed him Commissary General of pris
oners, and stopped all communication by flag of
truce with the enemy, fixing on the post com
manded by Col. Smith, as the only channel of
communication. This post was supported with
dignity. Col. Smith visited the city of New-
York, entered into the exchange of prisoners, and

112 MEMOIR.

after a residence of three weeks, completing the
business to the satisfaction both of General
Washington and Sir Guy Carlton, whose civili
ties and attentions were extensive and pointed, he
returned to his post. The ensuing spring open
ing under the blessings of peace, a meeting was
had between General Washington and Sir Guy
Carlton, at the post commanded by Colonel
Srniih, who introduced them to each other. Af
ter the interview with the two Generals, Col.
Smith was appointed by General Washington,
one of the Commissioners to reside near Sir Guy
Carlton, superintending the evacuation of the
country. At the particular evacuation of New-
York, Col. Smith was the acting officer of the
day, relieved the British guards, and was the of
ficer to whom the country was officially surren
dered.

Peace being restored, among the first appoint
ments of the Government, was that of Col. Smith
by the votes of Congress, 36 out of 37 votes in
his favour, as Secretary of Legation to the Court
of Great Britain.

In 1786, Mrs. Adams writes from London to
her sister, Mrs. Cranch, thus :

"Your niece is engaged to a gentleman worthy
of her; one, whom you will be proud to take by
the hand, and own as a nephew. I cannot pass
a higher encomium upon him than to say, that

MEMOIR. 113

there is something in his manners, which often
reminds me of my dear brother Cranch. With
regard to his person, he is tall, stender, and a good
figure, a complexion naturally dark, but made
still more so by seven years' service in the field,
where he reaped laurels more durable than the
tincture of a skin.

He appears a gentleman in every thought,
word, and action ; domestic in his attachments,
fond in his affections, quick as lightning in his
feelings, but softened in an instant ; his character
is that of a dutiful son, and most affectionate
brother. He trod the uncultivated wilds through
the Indian country, and commanded a regiment
under General Sullivan. As an officer, his char
acter is highly meritorious ; as a citizen, he ap
pears all that a man ought to be, who loves his
country, and is willing to devote his talents to the
service of it."

" Her voice in counsel, in the fight her sword."

Colonel Smith was married to the daughter of
Mr. Adams on the 12th June, 1786, by the Bishop
of Saint Asaph.

During his residence abroad, he officially visit
ed the Court of Lisbon, had a public audience
with the Q,ueen, and arranged the public business
committed to his charge, in a manner highly sat
isfactory to his government. Upon the change
10*

114 MEMOIR.

of the Constitution, and the return of Col. Smith
from Europe, General Washington, then Presi
dent of the United States, appointed him Marshal
of the District of New- York; and subsequently
Supervisor of the Revenue, which office he after
some time resigned, and revisited Europe.

After returning from his European visit, Col.
Smith was appointed, when the country was
threatened with an expected war, to command the
troops of the State of New-York, and being joined
by the regiments of Connecticut and New-Jersey,
he commanded the brigade stationed at the Scotch
plains. Upon the army being disbanded, he was
appointed Surveyor and Inspector of the Customs
and port of New- York.

After the death of the Baron Steuben, who was
the first President of the Cincinnati, Colonel
Smith was unanimously elected to fill that office,
which he held for many years.

In 1808, he retired to a farm at Lebanon, Mad
ison County, State of New- York, where he inter
ested himself in agricultural pursuits, until 1813,
when he was elected member of Congress to rep
resent the 12th and 13th districts of the State of
New- York. This situation he continued to fill
until the year previous to his death, which took
place at Lebanon, on the 10th of June, 18] 6, at
the age of 61.

During his residence at Washington, among

MEMOIR. 115

other letters to the editor, he addressed the fol
lowing.

Washington, June 25th, 1813.

MY VERT DEAR DAUGHTER :

I was made very happy by the receipt of your
letter of the 7th. I have enclosed two papers to
your uncle ; they contain the proceedings of the
last week. I am appointed a member of a com
mittee, to inquire whether any, and if any, what
provision ought to be made, for the more effectual
protection of the northwestern frontier of the
U. S. against the incursions of the savages, and
other enemies? I am very apprehensive it is too
late to consult on this subject.

The British have landed from 1,500, to 2,000
regular troops, below Norfolk ; and with five sail
of the line, and attending frigates, sloops, and
schooners, threaten the destruction of that impor
tant city. Our great folks here of course are not
on a bed of roses.

It is a great blessing to us, my dear, that your
unwearied attentions and assiduities have not im
paired your health. Heaven will bless you, for
these pointed and well-timed exertions ; they ex
cite gratitude in my mind ; my affection and love
for you cannot be increasd.

I am your affectionate

Father and Friend,

W. S. SMITH.

116 MEMOIR.

Admirable as was his character in every relation
of life — faithful as was the discharge of all his
duties — in the parental, it was perfection.

TESTIMONIAL OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.*

Lieutenant Col. W. S. Smith, entered the ser
vice of the United States at the commencement of
the present war. In August, 1776, he was ap
pointed aid-de-camp to Major General Sullivan,
with the rank of Major in the Army. On the 1st
of January, 1777, he was promoted to be a Lieut.
Col. in one of the additional battalions raised by
the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. After which
he had the honour of serving as Inspector and
Adjutant General to the Corps of Light Infantry,
under the command of Major General, the Mar
quis de la Fayette, in the campaign 1779 ; and in
the month of July, 1781, he was appointed aid-de
camp to the Commander in chief of the American
armies ; in all which military stations, he behaved
with great fidelity, bravery, and good conduct.
During the course of service, Col. Smith has had
many opportunities of signalizing himself by his
gallantry, intelligence, and professional knowl
edge, in the several battles, enterprises, and sieges,
at which he has been present, particularly in the
actions on Long Island, and Harlem Heights, at

* Extracted from the Diplomatic Correspondence, published by
an Act of Congress, 1832. Vol. v. p. 372.

MEMOIR. 117

the siege of Newport, in the expedition under the
order of Major General Sullivan, against the sav
ages, in the battle of Springfield, where he com
manded a regiment, the successful siege of York,
in Virginia, where the army of Lord Cornwallis
surrendered prisoners of war, arid on many other
important occasions. In consequence of which,
he hath merited my approbation and this testimony
of his being a brave and valuable officer.

Given under my hand and seal, at the head
quarters of the American army, the twenty-fourth
of June, 1782.

G. WASHINGTON.

LETTERS.

TO COLONEL W. S. SMITH, PARIS.

London, Grosvenor Square,

August 13, 1785.

DEAR SIR :

Your letter from Harwich, dated August 10,
reached us upon the llth. We were very glad
to hear of your arrival there, and continue to fol
low you with our good wishes.

When you tendered me your services, and ask
ed my commands, I did not know you had any
thoughts of returning by the way of Paris ; other
wise 1 should have charged you with a few. I
now write by Mr. Short, requesting your care of
an article or two which Mr. Jefferson will be so
good as to procure for me.

Nothing new in the political world has taken
place since you left us, but a fresh report by way
of Minorca, that the Algerines had, upon the 13th
of July, declared war against America. This I

120 LETTERS.

suppose is circulated now, in order to raise the
insurance upon the few American vessels ready
to sail. The report says that twelve of their
ships are ordered to cruise in the Mediteranean
for ours ; but it will probably be so long before
this letter will reach you, that what is news now,
will not be so then.

I have taken the liberty, sir, of requesting Mr.
Jefferson to introduce you to two gentlemen and
ladies ; the first of the gentlemen is much es
teemed in the world, for his patronage of the sci
ences, and for his knowledge and skill in music
and poetry; and the other for his notable exploits
and heroism. One of the ladies is of a very ancient
and noble family; she is eminent for her wisdom,
and exceedingly fond of all those in whom she
discovers a genius, and a taste for knowledge ;
the other is a single lady, remarkable for her del
icacy and modesty. As there is some talk of
their coming to London, they may possibly ac
company you here. There will be no difficulty
on account of the language, as they speak one as
perfectly as they do the other.

I had some idea of mentioning a young gentle
man of my acquaintance, whose manners are very
insinuating, but as he does not always conduct
himself with the prudence I could wish, and is
very fond of becoming intimate, his company
sometimes proves dangerous ; but Mr. Jefferson,

LETTERS.

121

who knows them all, 1 presume, will use his judg
ment, and upon that you may safely rely.

I hope you will not travel so rapidly as to omit
your journal, for I promise myself much enter
tainment from it upon your return. I presume
that the family would join me in their regards to
you, if they knew that I was writing ; yo.u will,
from the knowledge you have of them, believe
them your well wishers and friends, as well as
your humble servant,

A. ADAMS.

TO COLONEL SMITH, MADRID.

London, May, 1787.

MY DEAR SIR :

I have written you only a few lines since your
absence ; and those conveyed to you rather an
unpleasing account, but you will find my letter
attended with so many others of a different com
plexion, that I hope it will not give you a mo
ment's uneasiness. Mrs. Smith is now very well,
and sitting here at the table, making herself a
mourning bonnet, for the Princess Carolina Wil-
helmina, whom neither she or I care a farthing
for. What a farce this court-mourning isj and
indeed most other European mournings out of
the numerous tribe who wear the garb, how few
sorrowful hearts does it cover.
11

122

LETTERS.

Mrs. Smith has given you the history of the
bills, drawn by a certain house, which have been
noted for non-payment, and the consequent flight
of a gentleman and family to America. The
amount of bills noted, Mr. Parker tells me, is a
hundred thousand pounds; seventy-five thousand
guilders for the payment of the June interest is a
part. When this took place Mr. A. wrote to his
friends, requesting their advice what step could be
taken. In reply, they informed him that, in con
sequence of delaying only two days, the adver
tising the payment of the June interest, the obli
gations had fallen two per cent., and would con
tinue to depreciate, unless a new loan was opened.
That money there was scarce, and could riot be
obtained at less than eight per cent. ; that they had
called the brokers together, stated the matter to
them, and that his presence was necessary imme
diately to save the honour and credit of the United
States, as they must advance on their own ac
count, until he could attend to sign the obliga
tions. No time was to be lost, and at two day's
notice the journey commenced. Mr. Cutting has
gone as companion and secretary. On the 25th
they sat out ; 1 have not yet heard of their arrival.
This is a sad stroke, but there is less commotion
here in consequence of it than could have been
expected. The general idea is that the house
will stand it, but I fear the contrary; and what

LETTERS. 123

Congress will say to the step taken I know not ;
yet what else could be done ? Mr. B. has drawn
a bill for three hundred and fifty pounds since you
left us, or rather I believe it has been accepted
since you left us. Mr. A. must protest any far
ther drafts, should they come. Nothing certainly
can be done for him with regard to his private af
fairs, how muchsoever we may feel for his situa
tion. I shall forward your letter last night receiv
ed, by this day's post, as well as one received from
Mr. Swanwich upon the same subject. So here
we go up. and there we go down, as I sing to
your boy every day, who grows so fat we can
scarcely toss him.

As to news here, I know of nothing worth com
municating, except a bill which has passed, mak
ing four free ports in the West Indies ; Kingston
in Jamaica, St. George in Grenada, Mosea in Do
minica, and Nassau in New Providence. I have
not seen the bill, so cannot say whether America
is the most unfavoured nation in it. I dare say
they will find a way of being benefited by it.

All is love and harmony here. The Royal
Father and Son, are perfectly reconciled — the one
to give, and the other to receive. The household
is again established, the jeweller in a hopeful way
of receiving his thirty thousand debt, the confec
tioner his seven, and even the spur maker his
hundreds,

124 LETTERS.

Mr. Hartley has just made me a morning visit.
He has had a return of his disorder, though not
so bad as before. He is going to write to you,
therefore it is needless to say more about him, for
if his pen is half as prolific as his tongue, he will
not need an assistant.

We are to have a large party to dine with us
to-day, invited previous to Mr. A.'s excursion ; I
have engaged Mr. Shippen as an assistant. Of
the number is Sir George Stanton and Mr. Hollis.
I cannot tell how much we miss you ; in short if
it was not for the boy. it would be dummy all.

We begin to dine abroad again, and I hope to
prevail with Mrs. Smith to go into the country
for a little excursion, when Sir returns; but she is
rather averse to the idea, and says without she
had some one to go and see, she cannot find a
pleasure in it.

Remember me to Mr. Harrison when you meet.
I have a most sincere esteem for him, and fre
quently drink his health in the good wine which
he procured for us. If any vessel should be
bound for Boston, request the favour of him to
ship two such casks of wine for that port, as he
imported here for us, addressed to Isaac Smith,
merchant, Boston, and draw his bill here for the
payment of it. The sooner he does it the more
agreeable to us.

It is scarcely worth while to say a word about

LETTERS. 125

return, till at least you reach the place for which
you sat out. So I waive that subject, only observ
ing that the sooner it is, the more agreeable it
will be to your affectionate friend, A. A.

i.
York House, Dover, April 26th, 1787.

I dare say, my friend, when you receive this, you
will think I have moved with great rapidity.

There have but two things occurred on the road
which are worth mentioning ; the one is my having
met Mr. Rucker ; we stopped, jumped out of our
carriages, I into the dust, and he out of it; he had
a great coat on, and his beard he brought from
Paris with him ; I wonder how it passed the cus.
torn-house officers at this place, for they are as
sharp as need be. As to the other, it happened
between this and Canterbury ; but I must insist in
the first place that you do not receive it as a Can
terbury story. Well, silence gives, or at least in
this instance must pass for, consent, which being
granted, I proceed to this ignus fatuus. or Jack-
o-lanthorn story.

Curioni was perched, bolt upright, in front of
the postillions, who were lashing their nags and
clattering away, as if ten thousand musquetoes
were after them, when behold, we found ourselves
upon an extended plain, and the sable curtains of

126 LETTERS.

the night falling apace : what was to be done in
this case ? Some would attempt an answer here,
but I, like Will-o-the-Wisp, am above this, and
proceed to tell you what I did — I took out my
little tin case, and with a match lighted the
lamps. The horses stopped, Curioni rose perpen
dicular and cried : " Sir, I begged them not to be
alarmed, but the one to set down, and the other to
drive on, that no one would hurt them." " Oh,"
said the postillion, "what's this?" "Phosphor,"
said I; crack went the whip, and they moved with
such rapidity, it struck me they were anxious to
arrive at some inhabited place, and wished them
selves safe home again. I must not practise this in
Spain or Portugal, or I may be detained.

Yours,

w. s. s.

ii.

Calais, 27th April.

I wrote you, my dear friend, the last evening
from Dover, and I have now the pleasure of in
forming you, that in twenty-four hours after I left
Grosvenor Square, I entered this harbour in a
French long-boat ; it being low water, the packet
could not enter. You have passed here, and doubt
less must have observed the different lines of char
acter on the oppsite shores; they are legible; but,
as Burke says, "it is difficult for those who run,

LETTERS. 127

to read them;" therefore I shall not attempt to de
lineate them, lest I should expose myself to the
observations of a lady, who I think is disposed to
make some observations on life and manners as
she passes ; and who having passed the same
scenes, is fully competent to make every just and
judicious comment. Can you turn to your jour
nal, and let me know what is noted on this subject?

A knock at the door — enters a monk. Will you
take a chair, monk? " I am much obliged, sir. you
are very polite ; I take the liberty of waiting on
you, sir, to wish you a good voyage and beg your
attention to our convent." By all means, sir, I
am happy in having it in my power to contribute
my mite to the funds of so great, so good, and so
benevolent an establishment — tenez, Monsieur.

Monk. "I am much obliged, the prayers of the
convent will attend you, sir, on your route, and
they will entreat le bon Dieu, that success may at
tend your pursuits :" adieu, Monsieur. I spoke
French immediately on my landing, and have
been stammering at it ever since.

The monk has spoiled my letter; Curioni has
not yet arrived, and it rains too hard for me to go
out to look after him or the vessel : they will not
be here one moment sooner for my getting wet
and satisfying my curiosity. Patience is a virtue,
and I will nourish it. Yours,

W. S. B.

128 LETTERS.

III.

Roye, in Picardy, April 27th, 1787.
On Friday evening, I wrote you from Calais,
No. 2, as soon as I had sufficiently recovered from
the indisposition which crossing a rough water
generally occasions ; and having taken the route
to Paris by the way of St. Omar's, I now write
from the town of Roye, in Picardy, about twenty
miles southeast, or further inland than Amiens :
and I cannot recollect any other circumstance
than a prospect of meeting you, my dear, on the
route, that could induce me ever to travel the lower
road again. If you permit your imagination to
draw the most pointed contrast possible, touching
the two extremesof charming and disagreeable, and
connect the former with the route I am on, and al
lotting to and closely connecting the latter with the
journey through Boulogne, Abbeville, Amiens,
&c., you may form some idea of the difference. As
for myself, I do not recollect ever passing a more
agreeable country, as to the general face of it ; arid
it is under as high cultivation as the present ge
nius of the government will admit ; you traverse
it on ires beaux chemins, on either side of which
the eye is gratified with fields — fertile en bles
and abondant en paturages, en lin, en houblon
in their proper seasons. I lodged at Arras last
night ; it is the capital of the province of Artois in

LETTERS. 129

the French Netherlands, and remarkable for its
fine tapestry. On this day's journey, by the way
side I shot, and am now possessed of, four fine par
tridges and a pigeon, on which I propose to dine
at Paris to-morrow. But in addition to these agree
able mixtures of a little sport with rapid move
ments, I passed through the noted town of Pe-
ronne, in Picardy, situated on the river Somme.
It is remarkable for being the place where Louis
the XI of France, had an interview with Charles
Duke of Burgundy, and though of a suspicious,
wary, and remarkably cautious temper, he in this
case committed his person and his crown ; and
Charles after keeping him confined in the castle
for three days in doubt what course to pursue, re
leased him on certain humiliating conditions.
Whether it would have been happier for this king
dom, that Charles should have taken such an ad
vantage of the situation of Louis as to have de
prived him of the crown, I will not take upon me
to decide. It is however clear that he overturned
the power of the Barons, and brought the interests
of the kingdom nearly to a point. But every art
of his reign was marked either with real or in
tended perfidy. The traits in his character which
come under the column of virtue, are only those
of "policy and artifice ;" and his vices being those
of the " disposition and of the heart," form a long
catalogue, unnecessary to be forwarded to Eng-

130 LETTERS.

land. I gazed on the tower which held him, with
a pensive mind, and then moved to the gate where
the famous Count de St. Pol was delivered up to
Louis, by order of the Duke of Burgundy, and
carried to Paris and beheaded. These affairs took
place in the latter part of the fifteenth century, and
are interesting as forming links in the great chain
of the History of those days, and give an addi
tional pleasure in traversing these kingdoms, to
those who have looked back into history, and who
are disposed to contemplate the past and the pre
sent, and look to the future with the pleasing pros
pect of improvement. It is rendered very evident
that the o-eneral situation of man is rendered better.

C5

Society has greatly improved, and individuals are
sheltered from private and personal injury, by the
establishment of just and equitable laws. These
points did not operate on this theatre at the periods
mentioned ; and the reign of Louis the XI, was
more strongly marked with oppression, private
murder, public execution, and general injustice,
than that of almost any other prince whom history
mentions. But why do I run wild after the vices of
antiquity ; or why have I painted them to you ?
Perhaps it arises from my being on the spot where
these things were transacted.

Yours,

w. s. s.

LETTERS. 131

IV.

Paris, April 28th.

I wrote you last night from Roye, and agreea
ble to my intention then expressed, I dined at this
place. Having before I left London informed Mr.
Short of my intention of putting up while here,
either with him or very near him. I ordered the
postillion from St. Dennis, to the Hotel de L'Amer-
ique. I found a very polite note from Short, ex
cusing his absence, and begging me to rely on the
politeness of Pettit until his return, which will be
in the morning. I alighted and found everything
arranged for my accommodation.

Having killed eleven partridges, I made quite a
figure as a sportsman on my entrance. On my
arrival at the several posts, I got out, left Curio
to change the horses, and taking my large pistols,
advanced on the road, and twice or three times
had killed a brace, before the carriage overtook me.

This night I suppose the gentlemen have re
turned from Portsmouth.

After I have seen Madame de la Payette, the
Marquis, ajid the Count Sarsefield, perhaps I shall
be able to give you some Parisian news : but now
I have seen no one. and am alone in the house ;
Curio has gone to see his friends in the city, and
Pettit has made his bow for the night. It is time
for rne to close this fourth article. Yours,

w, s. s.

132 LETTERS.

v.

Paris, May 5th, 7 o'clock, P. M.

In the first place I dined with our friend the
Marquis, the day after my arrival ; and he express
ed a great anxiety, nay insisted upon my seeing
him at Versailles on Wednesday. I did so ; and
rinding a great deal of interesting matter on the
carpet relative to my country, was induced to
stay, until this day, which I have spent with
him. Our dinner was so perfectly to my taste,
that I must give you a small sketch of it.

There were only us two ; the table was laid
with great neatness. By the side of each was
fixed, (I'll call it) a dumb waiter. On which
was placed half a dozen clean plates, knives and
forks, and a small bell in the one near the Mar
quis, and the servants retired. The first course
being over, he rung the bell and it was removed
for the second. Thus we spent an hour and a
half with great ease and friendship; not incom
moding the servants, nor being subject to their
inspection. Indeed the arrangement was charm
ing; and being so, I know my friend will recollect
it hereafter. Exclusive of the disagreeable circum
stance of having servants hearing the conversa
tion, I feel some pain always while at dinner, or
rather I feel myself hurried — and that my in
feriors in that situation, may be as soon relieved

LETTERS. 133

as possible. I endeavour to expedite the affair
that they may be dismissed, and every day when
they attend I experience the same feeling. Now T
am travelling I act myself on this subject; I get my
dinner in peace, and Curio is attended by the do
mestics ; he is welcome, and perhaps is pleased
with it. For myself, I shall always nourish a dis
position to treat my equals with friendship and
civility, and those whose stations in life are su
perior to mine, exactly as their conduct towards
me merits, or their virtues demand ; but to those
whom fortune has placed in the inferior grade, I
will, in as few instances as possible, make them
sensible of their inferiority, or take advantage of
my station ; but enough of this. You will, my
dear, communicate to your papa, that the non-pay
ment of the interest of the debt due from America
to France, has produced a disagreeable sensation ;
but that in the report of the committe at Versailles,
on Wednesday last, on the resources and expecta
tions of the kingdom, that point was touched with
the greatest delicacy possible ; they nourish a dis
position to confide in the justice of our country,
but they could not register that debt in the column
of certain revenue ; this is disagreeable. I find
also, an arret published relative to their West In
dia trade, which in the article of salt fish, puts us
upon a worse footing there, than we have hitherto
been ; it was published in February last, and it
12

134 LETTERS.

is expected by our friends here, will in some de
gree interfere with that lucrative branch of eastern
commerce. I also, to my great surprise, find that
Monsieur De Calenne's letter of the 22d of October
last, to Mr. Jefferson, on the subject of the Amer
ican trade, is not yet passed the Council, and of
course those who sail from our country, in expec
tation of its produce being received here agreeably
to the statement of that letter, will be disappointed ;
some already have experienced the inconvenience
of its not having passed. This, if not speedily
remedied, will produce a disagreeable sensation.
Monsieur Evorqueux the comptroller general, re
tired from office yesterday morning, and it is ex
pected Monsieur de Villedeuel, late intendant of
Rouen, will be appointed. He is said to be an
honest, sensible man, a friend of the Marquis de la
Fayette ; who in conjunction with the Archbishop
of Toulouse, President of the Council of Finance,
ai;d Minister of State, are expected to act upon
every American question, on a more enlarged sys
tem than has hitherto been ; and the latter said
yesterday, that the first moment the Council could
find time to take up the subject, it (viz. Mr. de
Calenne's letter,) should be registered, and those
who had been under the necessity of paying duties
on articles there enumerated, should have their
money returned, (fee. (fee. In short, from the
changes which have taken place in the cabinet of
this court, America has better prospects in the

LETTERS. 135

line of commerce and friendship than heretofore.
The Archbishop of Toulouse is virtuous, humane,
and enlightened. Monsieur de Villedeuel is con
fided in by him; Monsieur Montmorin is well dis
posed towards America, and they all respect and
esteem Lafayette, who stands in a most enviable
point of view in the national mind; so that though
the letter referred to has not had the effect intend
ed relative to the alteration of duties in the ports
frequented by Americans, there is every reason to
expect it will take place in a few days ; and there
does not seem to be a doubt but Honfleur will be
also made a free port ; it is situated at the mouth
of the River Seine, opposite to Havre de Grace.
I hope my friend will not be tired with this polit
ical detail, and that she will be pleased to inform
her papa, that I think information of this kind,
contained in a letter addressed to you, will pass
better guarded from curiosity and inspection, than
if addressed to His Excellency, &c. The Marquis
tells me he had wrote a long letter, containing a
statement of an ambitious project, and that he re
quested you to reserve it until my return, should
I be absent when it arrived I have given him
assurances of its being sacred. I have been once
to the theatre to see the famous tigers. There
has an astonishing change taken place in the the
atres of France ; the two last times I was here, I
was pleased with the display of female beauty ;
but upon my word, I have not seen a handsome

136 LETTERS.

woman since I have been in the kingdom. Per
haps I shall see some in Spain or Portugal — no,
there they wear veils. Adieu. Yours,

w. s. g.

VI.

Blois, Thursday evening, May 10th or llth.

MY DEAR AMELIA :

I am well, and wrote No. 5 from Paris on the
6th inst. — since which I have been silent. The
place I now write from is situated on the Loire,
and I think in the Province of Orleans. I put
up a little before seven, that I might inform my
Amelia of my progress, and have an opportunity
of viewing this town, so renowned in history.
But before I say anything of it, I must observe,
that in this day's journey I have been vastly de
lighted with the general face of the country, and
having lodged at Tours last night, I passed
through the noted city of Orleans this morning.
It is beautifully situated on the Loire, over which
a very magnificent bridge is cast, presenting nine
lively, extensive arches. It strikes me as a well-
built and well-arranged town, considering its an
tiquity : but I find other travellers have received
other impressions, and have painted it in other
colours. In its main street is erected the famous
monument of Charles the Seventh, and the Maid
of Orleans ; whose history I suppose you are in
some degree acquainted with. She made her ap-

LETTERS. 137

pearance in the year 1429, while the city was be
sieged by the English, and while Charles was on
the point of giving up all hopes of being able to
raise it, and meditated a disgraceful retreat; this
village girl roused the desponding spirits of her
countrymen, seized the Royal standard, and led
the troops on to conquer ; and by actions as bril
liant as any which history records of the greatest
veterans, established the crown on the brow of
her sovereign, which before her appearance was
tottering to its fall. She first showed herself under
the title of Joan of Arc, and after the action refer
red to, was known by the name of the Maid of Or
leans. The famous circumstance took place on the
present month, which, with a little aid of imagi
nation, I improved, run through the various scenes,
and casting several animated glances over the
fields and round the works, I felt as if — but you
wish those feelings not to be encouraged, so we'll
let them pass undescribed — but when you consid
er the reverence I have for great and glorious ac
tions, actions capable of producing happiness to
thousands, and protecting the injured and op
pressed, you may possibly form some idea of my
feelings, when I tread the ground where heroes
for ages past, have fought and bled. But I
must beg you will not let your imagination run
too far on this subject, lest by the time I get into
Spain, you may fancy that I am mounted on
Rosinante, pacing after adventures. The idea
12*

138 LETTERS.

has induced me to rise and consult the glass. It
is so. I am in reality, (and before I have reach
ed the Don's Theatre) become the Knight of the
Woeful Countenance, and I am here — I have rea
son. I took a solitary walk before night, to an old
and decayed castle, over-grown with moss, and
labouring with a solemn gloom, as if the very
battlements themselves were conscious of the
scenes which have been transacted within its
walls. In this place the Duke of Guise fell a
victim to the vengeance of Henry the Third, and
the Cardinal, his brother, shared the same fate. Is
abella of Baria, and Mary of Medicis, two queens,
were here imprisoned. Valenica of Milan, Anne
of Bretagne, and her daughter Claude, and the
famous Catharine of Medicis, finished their days
within these walls. On the other hand, Louis
the Twelfth, a great and good prince was born
here, and the nuptials of Margaret of Valois, sis
ter to Francis the First and Margaret the Second,
wife to Henry the Fourth, were also solemnized.
I walked through the several apartments alone un
til near dark. It is magnificent in ruins, and may
be considered as a column, capable of presenting to
the mind interesting pictures of the transactions of
three or four hundred years back, provided that
mind is disposed to retrospect and contemplate.
There are tales related about transactions in this
castle which would chill your young blood, and an
swer no end for me to relate, for I am a professed

LETTERS. 139

enemy to sorrow and sadness. I find the face of Na
ture on the banks of this river smiles ; the whole
country has signs of wealth and plenty — but the
inhabitants in general, do not appear as if they
enjoyed the fruits of it. I look with an eye of
superior compassion on the lower classes, and
particularly the females in that grade. They
seem to bear the heat and burthen of the day, as
sisted by some old man ; the young ones who are
good for any thing, are king's men, and wear
his livery. I could enter deeply into the chapter
of lamentations if I dare, but I must have room
to beg you will present me respectfully to Sir and
to mamma. w. s. s.

VII.

Bordeaux, May 14th, Monday, 1787.
MF FRIEND:

I wrote No. 6 from the famous city of Blois, in
the county of Orleans, on Thursday night last, the
llth inst., and gave you a very lame account of
it and its history — but that you cannot help —
since which I have passed, and it is needless to
say rapidly, through the counties of Touraine,
Poitou, Angoumois, and with a whizzing kind of a
humming brain, find myself comfortably seated
in the Hotel of the Grand Emperor, in the famous
city of Bordeaux, on the River Garonne, which
falls into the Bay of Biscay, and is called the
Capital of Bourdelois, Guienne, and Gascony. It

140 LETTERS.

carries on an extensive trade, chiefly in wines, and
the river is now well filled with ships, and I have
sent Curio to find out whether there are any from
America ; if there are, what are the names of the
captains, where they are bound to, and when they
sail, &c. &c. I do not recollect that I have given
my friend an account of the mode in which I get
along. I get a cup, or two, or three, or four, of
tea, at or about six, every morning before I start,
and after I am shaved and combed, for I find I
cannot, even when alone and in a country where
I am not known from Adam — 'without the s —
alias the husband of Eve — get over this trick of
doing myself up before I take my tea. Finding
myself now wound up, that is to say, ready to go,
I get into this gig, (a neater never run the roads
of France) and continue going as if you, my dear,
was to be found at the end of the day's journey,
until night drops her curtain, which is about 8,
P. M. The last stage, Curio takes a horse, and
arriving about an half hour before me, I find a
chamber well arranged, and the table laid for
dinner, which being served and eat, bed dressed
and warmed, I generally get asleep by ten, and
up again at five, go the same career. I find I can
thus without the least difficulty, take as much rest
as I want, and travel from 80 to 100 miles a day.
Indeed I have thus far passed on lightly, and have
not encountered one disagreeable circumstance,
nor been put once out of humour ; in short, I am

LETTERS. 141

more and more convinced, that nineteen twenti
eths of the disagreeables and inconveniences of
life arise from the powers of the imagination,
which, agreeably to Mr. Jennings, always stand
ready in the absence of real misfortune, to plague
and torment the man, (and I suppose the lady too)
who will permit himself to be made the dupe of
it.

You mention the arrival of Messrs. Norris and
Fox, and the receipt of the Marquis' letter. I
think I am before you on the subject of a proper
confidence, as one of my letters from Paris will
show you. Well, there is a satisfation in gener
osity which none but the generous know.

I had got thus far by seven o'clock, when Mr.
French came to pay his respects. He seemed
disposed to be easy and pleasant : it put me in
good humour, and as I had been most scrupulous
ly silent for six days, I gave a loose to my tongue,
and was so very agreeable that the little gentle
man, at a half past ten, attempted to apologize for
the length of his visit, but said he scarcely knew
how to go. Well thinks I this is too barefaced,
to set three hours and a half on the first visit, and
then go with reluctance, it's a polite thing enough.
I am to be with him to-morrow, at the time the
post arrives to receive another letter, but it will
not be answered with this, for it leaves me in the
morning.

Sweet is the lovely blush of orient morn, and

142 LETTERS.

the smooth surface of the blue serene in ocean's
mirror — sweet the fragrant earth arrayed in ver
nal bloom, pleasant the stream rolling its grateful
tide after soft showers, and other visions the gay
mind could dream ; but neither orient morn
"when she ascends with charm of earliest dawn,"
nor blue serene on the unruffled forehead of the
deep, nor vernal earth, nor river's swelling pride,
nor all those visions the gay mind could dream,
so sweetly ravish the delighted eye, or bathe the
soul in bliss so exquisite, as the far-beaming
light from infant heir to the fond parent, whose
yearning heart, full many a day has pined in
deep despair. Oh how I long to amuse the
boy, and clasp his tender mother to my bosom ;
to see him smile, and find her deeply interested
in the scene, has charms for me beyond the power
of language to describe. Remember me to papa
and mamma ; kiss Steuben for me, and be
lieve me your affectionate friend and lover,

\v. s. s.

VIII.

Bordeaux,
May 19th, 1787, 7 o'clock, evening.

MY DEAREST FRIEND I

I wrote No. 7 from this on the 14th and 15th,
since which I have been engaged in examining

LETTERS. 143

the ancient curiosities of the place, and paying
some attention to modern improvements. With
that I was done yesterday, and Curio having got
every thing ready for moving, I should have set
off this morning agreeably to my intentions when
I left Paris, hut having received a letter from Old
Harrison, that Mr. Carmichael had forwarded by
the post a royal passport, and some letters of in
troduction to his friends on the route to Madrid,
I have thought best to wait the arrival of the post,
as those papers may possibly be of some service
on the road. But another, and not less powerful
reason, reconciled me to the delay — and that is,
that it is probable I shall have the pleasure of re
ceiving No. 2 from my Amelia. The receipt of
No. 1 being fully answered, I shall not say any
more on that, and shall take the opportunity of the
necessary halt which must be made at Bayonne,
for the purpose of getting mules and Spanish
money, to inform my friend of my arrival, after
which perhaps it may not be in my power to for
ward another until my arrival at Madrid ; but of
this I cannot be certain. No. 7 was filled up I do
not now know how, but I believe it took two sheets,
and I have no copy, but as far as my recollection
serves me, it did not touch upon my route from
Orleans or any thing like it.

It is not necessary to trouble you with a list of
the towns or villages I passed through. I shall
content myself with observing that after passing

144 LETTERS.

through the city of Orleans, we bid adieu to the
paved roads ; this was a very agreeable circum
stance to me, and particularly so to Curio, whose
seat on the front wheels became more easy than
before. This route is most delightful ; it con
tinues close to the Loire for the greatest part of
two day's journey, and runs the same course to
Nantes. But taking the route to Bordeaux, you
cross at Tours a very beautiful bridge, and pas
sing through the town by a very handsome street
lately built, you continue in the province of Tou-
raine, pleased with the fineness of the country and
the apparent industry of the inhabitants ; but this
gradually lessens as you leave this delightful
stream. The night after I wrote you from Blois,
I put up at Ingrande, an ancient town on the point
of being modernized. It is situated on the river
Greuse, and the first town after you enter the
province of Poitou. You will observe here that
there is a town of the same name, through which
the line which divides Bretagne from Anjou runs,
but you must not suppose that I got there, or that
I am easily turned from the path which I ought
to keep. Supposing that you will not complain
of my haste, I shall conduct you to the upper part
of the same stream, which, extending its arms,
forms a point on which the capital of the province
stands, and bears the name of Poictiers. It was
from this town that the battle took its name which
was fought between Edward of England, com-

LETTERS. 145

monly called the Black Prince, and John, King of
France. It was in the year 1356 ; the French
king, and his son Philip were both taken prison
ers, and the slaughter of the French was said to
be immense. It was the father of this daring
youth, who having ascended the throne of Eng
land in 1327, assumed the title of King of France
in 1340, quartered the arms of France with his own,
and added that motto which they still retain, viz.
Dieu et mon droit-

In this reign, (that is in the reign of Edward
III,) the Prince of Wales had the title of Duke
given to him, and ever since that period, the eld
est son of the King of England is, by birth, Duke
of Cornwall ; and it is from this circumstance
that I never could reconcile the present embar
rassment of the Prince of Wales, for the revenues
of Cornwall are estimated low at thirty or forty
thousand a year. At his birth, the revenues of the
dukedom, (from this circumstance,) became his
property ; and during his minority, I suppose the
annual produce to have been received, and that
they ought to have been reserved and accumula
ted for him, unless Edward should have stipulated
that during the minority of the Duke, his father,
as King of England, should enjoy the revenue, and
that this circumstance was tacked to the inherit
ance. But from those which are the foundation
of this liberality, on the part of the third Edwaid,
I do not think it probable any such stipulations
13

146

LETTERS.

were made. But flattering myself that you will
be able to give me some account of this matter
when I return, with your leave I will drop the
subject.

I ask your pardon, I will never, (I think) put
it in your power, my friend, to say I am backward
in doing justice to the sex, as I am upon a rapid
journey. Rapid when I do move, but sometimes
stationary out of curiosity, for the purpose of ma
king arrangements for a further progress, or kept
in check by the misfortunes of others.

We will now, in the service of the fair — a ser
vice under the banners of honour and virtue,
which I reverence superlatively — skip over a tri
fling period of a little better than two centuries,
and say a few words in panegyric of Diana of
Poitiers, Dutchess of Yalentinois. She shone like
a star of the first magnitude during the reign of
Henry II of France, in the year 1547. She may
be said to have divided the crown with her lover
and extended her personal and political influence
to heights unexampled. She is said to have
been the directing principle of Henry's councils,
the object of his tenderest attachment, and unlimi
ted homage. Historians acknowledge her charms
to have been of the most captivating kind, and
worthy of a monarch's love. Henry could not
boast of the capacity or discernment of his prede
cessor Francis I ; he was naturally tractable and
complying, and, of course, subject to the guidance

LETTERS. 147

of others ; and under the influence of this lady,
he was impelled to actions of vigour and firmness.
In short, this, and almost every other circumstance
fully proves to me of what importance a lady may
make herself, and how far she is capable of
moulding the character, and gently directing the
man who loves her, if she chooses to make use of
her power by a winning softness, and by nour
ishing every disposition to please. There is no
saying what can bound her power, or interfere
with her pursuits. I must acknowledge myself
a friend to their administration, excepting only
when their power is founded on vicious princi
ples, and runs a career inconsistent with the prin
ciples of strict virtue and morality. This, Diana
could not boast of, and therefore, agreeable to the
present improved plans of social life, Henry les
sens in estimation, and bears a blotori his escutch
eon, which I cannot drive from my view when
taking a retrospect of his reign and character.
For though as a father he was affectionate, and as
a friend warm and animated, still as a husband he
can only be said to have been decent and polite.
Previous to the death of Francis I, and during the
reign of Henry, Diana of Poitiers retained her pow
er, and displayed it in proportion to the extension of
that of the king's. But on the accession of Fran
cis II, the celebrated Catherine of Medicis, whom I
have mentioned in a former letter, and was the
wife of Henry, rendered it necessary for Diana to

148 LETTERS.

retire, and end that life in a degree of obscurity,
which had been passed in unexampled splendour.
But Catherine did not lessen the dignity of her
character by too great a severity. On the con
trary, Diana acknowledged the politeness of the
queen, and left her free to direct the councils of
the young king, who was placed on the throne at
sixteen years of age.

He run a confused career, and very short,
scarcely having time to discover any striking lines
of character.

Voltaire says he was equally ignorant of virtue
as of vice. But why should I plague my Amelia
with such a detail ; I only intended to have filled
this sheet when I began, but I know not how
to leave her ; if they afford her a little amuse
ment in the perusal I shall be pleased. I find
myself never better entertained than when I am
writing to her, and therefore I must beg she will
indulge me a little, and permit me to take only
one half sheet more. It will lead her through the
remaining part of the province of Poitou, still de
preciating in soil and agriculture, and enable her
to trace the path of her friend for that day, (on the
map,) and find him at dinner at 10 o'clock at night,
in the city of Angouleme,the capital of Angoumois.
This province gave birth to the far-famed Count
d'Angouleme, afterwards the noted Francis I, who
I have before mentioned. He is said to have been
eloquent in the cabinet, and courageous in the

LETTERS. 149

field. He was great in arts and in arms — and
your papa will with pleasure give you the out
lines of his character, as it is drawn by his fa
vourite author Guichiardini ; the portrait is flat
tering, and by giving a line it may be easily found.
" Delle virtu, della mag nanimite dells ingegno,
et spirito generoso di costui, s'haveva universal-
mente tanta sperranzza, fyc.

The roads continue the same, and the country
grows worse, until you enter the generality
of Bordeaux. I passed the line with glowing
wheels, and having crossed the river Dordogne
which joins the Garonne at Bourg, put up for the
night at the hotel of Count D'Artois, in the village
of le Carbon Blanc, one post and a half from Bor
deaux. The night overtook me here, and finding
the ferry at the last river not pleasant, I thought
it most prudent not to attempt the passage of the
other without daylight. I found the inn, that is,
the room where I lodged, neat — and I a°ree with

O * &

you that in travelling through France, you are
much better accommodated with beds than in any
part of England through which I have passed.
I indulged myself a little in the morning, and
arrived at Bordeaux at 11 o'clock, and shall bid
adieu to it to-morrow.

I leave Mr. Barclay behind ; he had been here
near a fortnight before I arrived, having left
Madrid in December last. By my letter to your
13*

150 LETTERS.

papa which accompanies this, you will find how
his affairs stand.

Heaven bless and protect you my dear.

Adieu. Yours sincerely,

w. s. s.

Bayonne, Sunday Night, 11 o'clock,

May 20th, 1787.

I wrote my friend yesterday from Bordeaux ; I
am now halfway to Bayonne, and propose being
there to-morrow night. I have passed this day
through the worst country I ever saw. I have bid
adieu to rapid movements, but will endeavour to
make up for it, byearly rising and industry. I have
not been here above five minutes, and E begin to
chat with my Amelia ; while she, good, quiet soul,
is sleeping as sound as I shall be, as soon as I
get my dinner. The whole house seems engaged
on that subject at present, except an old woman
who has just entered, and is proceeding to arrange
my bed. The room is paved with square brick,
and she poor thing has wooden shoes on, and clat
ters about at a rate that rather interrupts than oth
erwise. The whole of this day's journey has been
through a barren, flat, sandy country, very rarely
producing any thing but pine shrub. The few
people that I see appear stout and healthy ; and
the men in general, when they travel, that is, go
ten, twelve, or twenty miles, mount themselves

LETTERS. 151

upon stilts about two or three feet high, and get
along at an amazing rate ; they seem to move with
ease, and to be no way's embarrassed by them. To
see three or four of these animals moving towards
you over a distant plain, has a very singular ap
pearance ; it brought to my mind the feats of Tom
Thumb, and my ears tingled \vithfeefawfum.
If you had been with me, I think I should allowed
myself to have been diverted ; as I was poor crea
ture alone, I looked, thought, and was amused3 but
it did not extend to diversion. To give you an
idea how a man of six foot must be elevated thus
equipped, I will only say, that a boy whose head
if he had stood on the ground, would not have
overlooked the nave of the hind wheel, came strid
ing up while I was changing horses, to ask for a
sous. His face was nearly on a level with the
top of the carriage, so that I looked up at him and
inquired the cause of his application, he stammer
ed and had not a sufficient appearance of poverty
to justify me in complying with his request ; I
told him so, and begged his permission to save it
for some boy who might want it more ; if you
please Monsieur L' Comte, says he. Where he
got that idea from I cannot tell, (for by all that's
handsome, and when a gentleman swears by his
wife he ought to be believed,) I had neither cross,
eagle, owl or ribbon, not even to my hair. Perhaps
while the men in this district play the giant, the
women play the witch, and make discoveries and

152 LETTERS.

tell the boys. I wrote your papa yesterday, and
said that Mr. Barclay was in prison; it was true ;
he was put there on Tuesday last as I stated,
and for the reasons named, and to my very great
astonishment made his appearance yesterday at
half past two, at my quarters, and said he had
come to dine with me. The addition to my din
ner was soon made, and he informed me that the
Parliament of Bordeaux had released him, in
consequence of his public character, not as con
sul, but as envoy to Morocco on his return to
Paris, the place from whence he departed. It has
made a great talk ; both his imprisonment and
his release ; I am apprehensive it will not end
here.

21st, and it is Monday night, .half past nine —
just got in again — I have been engaged in my
journey this day, fourteen hours ; I feel not the
least inconvenience. Yours,

w. s. s.

May 25th, 1787, 9 o'clock, night.
Kingdom of Spain, and Old Castile is the pro
vince, and I am seated in a good inn on the banks
of the river Ebro, which falls into the Mediterra
nean about twelve miles from Victoria, and have
got safely over those mountains, which I informed
my friend in No. 9. from Bayonne on the 22d, I

LETTERS. 153

should attack in the morning. The difficulties
which I am to encounter on this tour are yet to
show themselves ; but finally I suppose they will,
as all others appear less in reality than in imagi
nation. I have hitherto been very well fed, and
well lodged ; it is a plentiful country, and if a
person does not carry a disposition to be pleased
with him, the disposition of the people to serve
and accommodate, will very probably create it as
he advances, unless he takes pains to shut it out.
I write this in great haste, — a little disposed for
sleep, having arose at three this morning and been
busy all day in getting forward. The same time
to-morrow will find me in motion ; indeed I shall
never be at rest until I am with my friend. I pro
pose being in Madrid on Thursday or Friday next,
when I will take a day or two to say more. Two
English gentlemen who put up at the same posada,
will take this with them ; and dinner being now-
brought in, 1 must bid my love adieu ; remember
me to mamma.

I am most affectionately your friend, &c.

w. s. s. "

XI.

Madrid, May 31.

I intended to have continued on this sheet, my
letter from Bayonne, No 9, but the gentleman to
whom I was addressed, having arrived to make

154 LETTERS.

the necessary arrangements for my departure, I
was obliged to put up a hasty prayer for my
Amelia, and conclude, having scarcely room left
to sign my name. I have now the pleasure of
informing my friend that agreeable to my inten
tions expressed in the letter referred to, I left Bay-
onne early on the morning of the 23d, and while
the muleteer and Curio took a hasty bit at St.
Jean De Lur, by way of breakfast, I ate some
strawberries and bread in the carriage, after which
proceeding to the river Bidassoa, and having
crossed it, found myself in the kingdom of Spain
at 12 o'clock — and perhaps landed on the very
spot where the Dauphin of France, and Henry
Duke of Orleans disembarked, when their father,
Francis I, on the 18th of March, 1526, delivered
them to the Emperor Charles V, as hostages for
his fulfilment of the treaty which he had signed
at Madrid, and which he never intended, (indeed
it was not in his power) to have complied with ;
it however produced his enlargement. Histori
ans give a very minute account of this exchange
of a king for his two sons ; and it is remarked as
a matter of astonishment, that none have men
tioned the effect which the sight of his two child
ren must have produced in the king their father
particularly as they were to be delivered to the
emperor to procure his own release. I think it
almost impossible that they should have passed
within reach of each other, without discovering

LETTERS. 155

some emotion or producing some salute ; but none
is noted.

The king proceeded rapidly to Bayonne,
where his mother and the court awaited his arri
val. On the way, being on horseback, he is said
to have often waved his bonnet in the air, and
cried out with transport, " Je suis encore Roi /'»
His reign throughout was interesting, and his cha
racter great — though I think in several instances,
too strongly marked with a vicious bias — and he
lessens much in my estimation in the above
scene ; for in his hurry to become again a king,
he appears totally lost to the feelings of a man and
a father.

From what I have said of this river Bidassoa,
you will conclude it separates France from Spain.
I shall proceed to tell you that having passed a
gentleman and his family travelling, I dined at
the first Spanish village in sight of the borders of
France. The mode of this family's travelling may
be worthy of notice. A mule being saddled, on
each side is fixed a low-armed chair, or framed
cushion, in which the gentleman and his lady
were seated, carrying each a small umbrella.
Two female servants pressed the ribs of another
animal in the same manner, and a pretty little girl
of about twelve years was seated on the saddle
between them. These patient creatures being led
by the men servants, make a steady progress of
about three miles the hour. I think it would af-

156 LETTERS.

ford us a week's laugh at least, should it ever be
our lot to travel thus, particularly if Sir and mad
am were slung thus before us. But it would be
fair to give them an opportunity to laugh a little
too. For this purpose we would lead the van, and
bring up the rear alternately. Oh ! how some
folks would groan or sigh.

It is needless, my dear, to rattle you over one
hill and another, or fill my letter with names of
villages and streams, which I hope you will never
be under the necessity of visiting. I shall con
tent myself with telling you that I arrived here at
11 in the morning, on the 9th day after I left
Bayonne ; so that having arrived from Bordeaux
there in two day's travelling, I calculate that I
can pass from Bordeaux to Madrid in eleven. He
that can do it in less, I will acknowledge to be a
more active, and of course a cleverer fellow. I
was always shaved and combed before four in the
morning, and made a point of being ready every
day before the muleteer.

The roads through the Pyrenean mountains
are so well made as not to be in the least dan
gerous, though being badly paved, are rough and
uneasy ; it is carried through a bold and highly
cultivated country, thickly settled and luxuriant.
Passing through the tolerably free province of
Biscay, which your papa well describes in I think
his fourth letter, in his defence of the constitutions
of our country, enters the province of Old Cas-

LETTERS. 157

tile, after passing through the town of Victoria, a
pleasant place, situated south of the Pyrenees.
At this place I was stopped some hours by the
officers of the custom-house, and for want of a
passport was obliged to pay twenty-seven dollars
agreeably to what they called these establishments.
Against this, I had attempted to guard, by getting
Harrison to inform Mr. Carmichael one month
before I left London, that on or about the 13th of
May I should be at Bourdeaux, and requesting
that the necessary passports might be deposited
there for me. By a letter from Harrison at L'Ori-
ent, I was informed that he had received an an
swer, and that the papers would be deposited
agreeable to my request. I was detained there
several days longer than I intended by Mr. B.'s
situation. I arrived on the day appointed, and yet
found no passports. I can account for this in no
other way at present, than that the general or
rather particular movements of my countrymen
in Europe have been so very uncertain, that every
one concerned with them have given up every
idea of calculation, or even believing them when
they say they intend leaving a place to-day, and
being at another to-morrow. I cannot bear to
have my word doubted, even in the most trivial
case, and was a little displeased at Bourdeaux
when I told a gentleman (who asked me when J
should proceed,) that I should go in the morning.
" Oh no," says he, " you will dine with me the day
14

158 LETTERS.

after." For myself, I am determined my ac
quaintance shall make me an exception to this
rule, and learn to believe it is my intention when
I tell them so ; for that the thing will be done is
a fact, unless I should be checked by accident, or
am convinced of an error in my determination.

But with respect to this custom-house at Vic
toria. I was at first a little displeased ; but on
recollection, being convinced that the surest way
to overcome the difficulty was to submit to the reg
ulations of the country, and take a particular re
ceipt, that in case of imposition I might get re
dress here. I kept myself cool, sent Curio to make
the arrangement, and contented myself in the
public house until he informed me that every
thing was settled, and the mules ready to go.

At this place is a very elegant new inn, and I
dined sumptuously, and was well attended.

Former travellers, who have cast a censure on
this province of Biscay, relative to its scarcity,
and badness of accommodation, must surely have
set out with a determination to find fault and
be peevish. I acknowledge my plan to have
been carried even thus far into execution upon
principles diametrically opposite, but must say it
is a perfect Paradise to either Old or New Castile.
Indeed Spain is the only country that I am ac
quainted with, that the nearer you approach the
capital, the worse are the accommodations, and
the more glaring the lines of general poverty and

LETTERS. 159

oppression. But I find I have been so accustomed
for several days past to bound and skip along,
that I can scarcely preserve a steadiness in my
description.

I will run through Biscay perfectly satisfied
with it ; it produces wheat, corn, oats, flax, and
has large orchards. The inhabitants appear in
dustrious and healthy. Their villages and hou
ses seem to have been long built, and where there
are any new additions, there appears very little
improvement in the taste of the architecture ; but
it answers their purposes, and they appear content
arid comparatively happy. There is an air of
haughtiness in their movements, even of the infe
rior classes. The labourer in the field panting
with fatigue, while he checks his industry to
gratify his curiosity, puts his arms a kimbo^ and
endeavours to look big. He seems conscious that
he is happier than his neighbour in the other
provinces of the kingdom, and looks as if he dare
defend himself and his possessions if attacked.
But the scene changes as you leave this province
and pass through Old and New Castile. Here is
misery — no, they are just not miserable ; the soil
is ungrateful, and the villages cannot furnish a
traveller with any thing to eat. I rested on the
ability of the country as long as possible, but found
it would not do, and for two or three days dined
upon half a dozen cups of tea and a crust. It
was enough for me ; and as for rest at night, I did

160 LETTERS.

tolerably in the mountains — but in this dreary
way — excuse me —

Bugs of man make a prey,

And fleas have their appetites too;

To avoid whose bite

I sling hammock at night,

And so sleep with a tolerable gout.

You see I cannot help getting prose run mad
sometimes ; indeed it is enough to make every
thing run mad to be so bit. I never was so sen
sible of the force of a toast I used frequently to
hear given in the course of the war, as I have
been on this jaunt : viz. " perpetual itching to the
enemies of America, without the benefit of
scratching." 1 will never drink that toast again,
for it is too cruel ; poor people, I can now feel for
you if it had fallen to your lot, death would have
found you before the definitive treaty ; England
would have been saved an immensity of money,
and the king and his cabinet have been restored
long since to their senses.

June 1st. The court are at Aranjuer, and of
course Mr. Carmichael with them. The first
thing I did yesterday was to send a letter to him ;
it is six leagues, to beg he would forward what
letters he has for me. I have only yet, Amelia,
received No. 1 ; if I shall be disappointed here,
and not get any from you, I will leave the place
immediately, and go to Lisbon and be sick. I
have already sent the things to be washed, and am

LETTERS. 161

making preparations for a further progress. I
shall be out of humour with the world, or at least
the post-offices in it, unless I have letters : how
dare the varlets detain them?

I am already almost put aside myself by bells
and drums religious. The host has already pas
sed three times to-day. I looked out of the win
dow, for I have not yet been in the street, and
observed whole ranks of passengers kneeling.
The Spaniards, at least those 1 have seen, appear a
sedate and solemn people ; pleasantry and good
humour seem to be entirely engrossed by the
monks and friars. The inhabitants, whose coun
try I have passed through, except Biscay, appear
almost worn out by the oppressions of their gov
ernments, and fatigued to death by being priest-
ridden.

There is a little cultivation round this capital.
It is very disagreeably situated, and has an in
significant appearance as you approach it. Per
haps I shall walk out towards sunset, and to-mor
row may say a little about the town and its inter
nal arrangements ; and I expect to be in better
spirits to write, for I still hope to receive some
thing from my Amelia before I go to rest. But
as it is possible this may reach Grosvenor Square
before No. 10, I will only say that on the 25th,
having put up at the same inn with two gentle
men travelling towards London, I put a letter to
my dear Amelia under cover to Dr. H., only in-
14*

162 LETTERS.

forming her that I was well, and safely over the
mountains.

Saturday morning, 5 o'clock, June 2d. I was
setting solus at eleven last night, still expecting
No. 2, when lo ! it arrived. Mr. Carmichael was
so good as to send his servant express with it, and
one or two others. I read it, and took it to-bed
with me, and then read it again ; I could not com
pose myself before I got it, and after I had read it
several times, it would not let me sleep, and has
roused me thus early in the morning. I have not
yet been out of my room ; I am getting myself
cool and composed, for I have moved with such
rapidity for twelve days past, that I think if on my
arrival I had been cast into the branch of the
Tagus, on which this capital stands, I should
have made as great a hissing as FalstafF did
when he was thrown into the Thames. I shall
go this day to Aranjuez, and lodge with Mr.
Carmichael, as he has very politely requested.
I shall see what is to be seen there, learn what I
can relative to general and particular politics, and
return again here to set off for Lisbon ; but of all
this you will be informed by other letters. I like
your ideas of contentment — and when I return,
will study to keep myself as much " within the
bounds of reason" as possible.

Papa's and Mr. C.'s jaunt turned out exactly as I
expected, relative to the pleasures they were to ex
perience. / have often wondered whin people
have their choice^ they do not as frequently pick

LETTERS. 163

up a rose, as meddle with a thorn ; but the
fault is in our stars, and not in ourselves. Hap
py are those who study to counteract this bias of
their nature as much as possible ; the great object
of life is to be happy, and to be so, I agree with
you we must keep " within the bounds of reason."

I think you will say he writes a long letter be
fore breakfast. I would at any time, Emmy, rather
converse with you than eat. I am obliged to make
use of a paper on which I have been sketching
out some lines of fortifications in the mountains ;
thus you storm my works and make me your pri
soner at discretion. I am as well convinced as
you possibly can be, that you will never abuse
your power, or give me reason to regret having
placed unbounded confidence in you ; but that
I have not said more to you on the subjects you
allude to, and which you say I touched the evening
before I set out, is because you have never put
yourself forward enough in conversation, to ena
ble me to judge of what you wished to know, or
what you would be pleased to be informed of; I
think I only want to be clear in that, and every
thing I know on the subject sought after, will be
cheerfully communicated.

I am almost put out of my senses by bells and
drums, accompanying the host through the streets.
The Romish religion is the only one tolerated in
this kingdom, and it is played off with such pomp
and ceremony, that I am astonished that the nation

164 LETTERS.

at large, has not seen through the mist that sur
rounds them, and broke the fetters of priestcraft ;
but they still grasp at it with all its absurdities,
and by a steady perseverance in the career, have
furnished their king with the title of his Most
Catholic Majesty. I shall see him in a day or two,
and paint him to you ; but I feel a little prejudi
ced ; this I must conquer. I have seen so much
misery in the villages, that I think I shall be dis
gusted at the splendour in the palace ; I can be
content and pleased with it, when it flows from
the liberality of an enlightened, generous people,
conscious of their power, and sensible of their
rights ; and that it arises from liberal donations
to the chief magistrate, to enable him to support
the dignity of his station. But when the faces of
the poor are ground, to polish the throne of a ty
rant, its glitter frets my mind, and forces me to
dwell in painful contemplation on those vile op
pressive measures, which are exerted to collect
from the too patient multitude, the earnings of
their industry and the paltry overplus of a pitiful
subsistance. But enough ; I find I am drawing
to the'last side of my'paper, and I have no more ;
if I had, I do not know when I should stop.

Yours, w. s. s.

XII.

Aranjuez, June 6th, 1787.

MY DEAR FRIEND :

I was much pleased this morning by the receipt

LETTERS. 165

of yours of May 19th. Look at the dates — May
5th, Paris, and Blois, May llth — the places are
very distant, and it is impossible to write in a cha
riot going post. I have answered your mamma's
letter from this place ; I have not gone through
the necessary visits to the royal family, but they
are nearly finished. 1 find everything here much
more agreeable than I expected ; the corps diplo
matic, are very different gentlemen at this court,
from those at the court of London ; here friend
ship, hospitality, and good humour, sweeten soci
ety, and sweeten the political career. I have been
here four days, and have dined very agreeably
three of them, with the English, Swedish, and the
Dutch Ministers ; I am engaged to dine with the
Comte de Florida Blanca on Saturday, and shall
begin to think of proceeding to Lisbon ; but I am
rather uneasy about Curio; the fatigues of the jour
ney have proved too great for him, and he is now
sick and a-bed ; he is well attended, and I hope will
recover in a few days ; if he does not, I shall with
very great reluctance be obliged to proceed with
out him ; he has conducted himself so well, that I
shall miss him much — and at Bay one took him in
the carriage with me, so that all through Spain he
has fared in every respect equal with myself. But
notwithstanding that, he is sick and I am as usual,
in greater health for the active life I have passed.
It is my element ; sloth and inactivity will sicken
me ; but the other will ensure me health and spirits.

166 LETTERS.

June 7th. The grand procession of the court
this day, has engaged the attention of every one
in and about this place ; the palace was thronged

with " reverend r s in robes," adorned with

all the insignia of their respective stations, and
cutting no despicable figure ; on the contrary, the
whole was solemnly magnificent, and worthy the
attention of a stranger. After the solemn march
was over, all parties perambulated the gardens,
where taste and elegance, accompanied with all
the graces of the Spanish court, were laid open
to view. I was entertained and shall spend this
afternoon at a bull feat ; but I am told it will not
be equal to what I shall see in the course of a day
or two ; but you shall have more of this in detail,
my friend, when I shall again seat myself content
ed by your side. I thank you for the information
you give me in cypher ; there is great pleasure in
having my companion a little of a politician. The
news came agreeable and apropos. Yours,

w. s. s.

XIII.

Aranjuez, Sunday, June 10th, 1787.
I have payed my respects to his majesty and all
the royal family. The prime minister, the Comte
de Florida Blanca, made professions of friendship
for our country, and gives me letters of introduc
tion to Lisbon, but he being a little deranged I had
not the honour of seeing him yesterday as I ex-

LETTERS. 167

pected, and mentioned in a former letter ; he has
appointed Wednesday for our final conference, &c.
I have been so perfectly well received here, that
I cannot help communicating to my best friend,
my satisfaction on the subject. I dined yesterday
with the Comte de Kagenack, formerly the Impe
rial Ambassador at the Court of London. The
entertainment was brilliant, and he vastly polite,
and desired his respectful compliments to Mrs.
Smith and to Mr. and Mrs. Adams. The easy
good humour which floats in the atmosphere of
this court, has had a good effect upon his excel
lency. He appears to greater advantage here
than when I used to see him stand as stiff at St.
James's, as if he had swallowed a crowbar. I
pass my day thus — I rise every morning at five
o'clock, dress, and mount on horse-back at six —
but where does my friend get a horse ? I'll tell
you my dear. The Russian Ambassador, (the
very antipode of Comte Woronzow) is attentive
beyond description. This day is the second- that
I have dined with him ; he told me his horses
were at my service during my stay. I have, with
all the modesty I am master of — and I hope you
do not think that small — accepted ; and thus
accommodated, accompanied by Sir Alexander
Monro the English Consul, who politely offerred,
to ride with me every day, until he had shown
me all the beauties of this spot. I take a gentle
ride one day to one part, and another to another,

168 . LETTERS.

until about nine o'clock, when we return to break
fast, get dressed by half past eleven, go to court
and walk in the palace gardens until two. That
being the hour for dinner, I proceed with the se
renity of a Steuben to the house where I have
been previously invited. After dinner the card
tables engage the attention of those who would
rather play than chat, until the lengthening shad
ows proclaim the declining sun sufficiently near
the western horizon, to make the walks agreeable,
and exercise healthful. At this signal, the whole
court sally forth, and present a scene sufficiently
enlivening for the kingdom of Spain. Before the
evening dews fall, every one retires as he may
be respectively engaged. I, an old-fashioned fel
low, am now sitting, being Sunday evening 8
o'clock, writing to my wife. I feel my soul
expand with every benevolent and interesting
sensation when in company with respectable old
age. I think it has its joys, (though different)
equally with youth, and the early part of life be
ing what I style well spent, its joys and pleasures
will gradually, and agreeably to the gentle stages
of nature, give place without a pang, or rather
imperceptibly, to the more sedate and cooler en
joyments of the advanced periods. All that I am
anxious and studious for, is, to govern and direct
my enjoyments in such a way, as would not make
a good man blush on recollecting them, whether
in the world or in his closet — you are both alone.

LETTERS. 169

Tell mamma my advice is, to take John on horse
back, and by gentle day's journeys, make an ex
cursion into Devonshire — it can be done in four
days — you can spend four days there, and be
back on the twelfth; but I think she has scarcely
courage enough. It would be a good jaunt for
you both, but methinks you sigh and wish me
back ; for this purpose I join you most heartily.
Well, when I do come, we will try if I cannot
take some gudgeons for you in some part of the
Thames. I thank you for rolling Mr. Paradise
so well up in your letter, and then stretching him
out again. " I ask your pardon, I don't know
whether I explain myself well or not." Oh you
are an arch one, but you are just such as I wish
you, but rather too far from me at present. Papa,
you say, is gone. I am rather of opinion he will
be worried on the subject, but that he will finally
succeed I do not doubt — but it will be by the
sweat of his brow — it is the way we all get
through life. Some, it is true, do not puff and
blow as much as others, but very few take it as
easy as they might if they would take a little
pains. I am at present looking steadfastly, and
with reverence at the finger of Providence as it
relates to Curio — he is dangerously ill — but a
few days will decide the subject. I am prepared
with a proper mind for the decision. You will
hear from me again soon. Yours,

w. s. s.
15

170 * LETTERS.

XV.

Aranjuez, June 18th, 1787.

1 wrote you, my dear Amelia, on the 10th, llth,
12th, 13th, and 14th instant, and that I am still
here is owing to the prospect of Curio's speedy
recovery. I am almost out of patience waiting
for it, but it would be unjust to leave him behind
in a strange country, when a few days' patience
may sufficiently restore him to proceed with me ;
but I have wrote to his doctor this morning, re
questing him to inform me when he supposes he
will be in a condition to travel ; when I receive
his answer, I shall decide whether it is proper and
consistent for me to proceed or wait. There is
every pains taken here in the circle of my ac
quaintance, to make my time pass agreeably; and
I have been pleased and comforted, but it is not
a theatre for me. I find the manners of the world
surrounding the palace, very different from that
which can excite my respect, or in every respect
please me. I therefore frequently retire to con
verse with you, my friend, and can with truth as
sert that those moments of virtuous retirement
are my greatest sources of pleasure. I continue
my early morning rides, and am sensible of their
being of service. This place, with the improved
and ornamented grounds, embrace a space of many
leagues in circumference, on both sides of the
River Tagus. The palace is considered the cen
tre of the scene, surrounded with luxuriant and

LETTERS,

171

well-arranged gardens, through which the river
passes with rapidity. Its face is variegated by
obstructions, which produce both gently-sloping,
and perpendicular falls, which are pleasing to the
eye, and by no means disagreeable to the ear. It
is really a treat to be here; you may ride under a
double row of elms and oaks, perfectly sheltered
from the sun, for six or eight miles, which I sup
pose to be about the length of the largest diame
ter of this park. It abounds with deer, and wild-
hogs, partridges and hares, pheasants and rabbits.
The king is a great sportsman, and passes a con
siderable proportion of every day both in hunting
and fishing. He is attended every day in his
palace, by the foreign ministers, and those of his
subjects who form the court, and they pass their
time as at Versailles. On Sunday, all the Royal
family here dine in public in their own apart
ments, and receive the courtiers while at dinner ;
but more of this when I get home: when will
that be ? I shall consult the first fortune-teller I
may chance to meet with, and if she or he do not
fix it at a very short date, I will give but a small
fee. 1 must say a few words in cypher. I sup
pose if this letter falls into the hands of a politician
before it reaches you, he will not spend his time
in attempting to decypher a sentence from a gen
tleman to his lady.

7 o'clock. I have just returned from dining
with the Russian Ambassador, who I have spo-

172 LETTERS.

ken of before, and must apologize for putting in
cypher what perhaps you may suppose might as
well have been wrote at full length. If it was
anything relative to a political question you might
be repaid the trouble of decyphering it, by com
municating it to your papa; but as it relates only
to us, you will keep it to yourself, or laugh with
mamma on the subject, as you please. 46. 93p.
n3uu3p. 4. 5i. b3pr. 74b4n. um. u93. o462. ; don't
laugh at me ! I have the pleasure of informing
my friend that I called to see my servant to-day,
and that I found him up, and in a fair way speed
ily to recover. I feel lighter for it, and shall make
every necessary arrangement for my departure on
the day the doctor says he may undertake the
journey. I shall be a day or two longer on the
road, least he should relapse, and I natter myself
that the sea-breeze at Lisbon will recruit him so
that when I begin to return, he will be able to
bear the rapidity of my motion back. In one of
your letters you seem rather interested in the
beauty of the French ladies. The only way I
have to extricate myself from censure, as wanting
taste, is to suppose that they had all retired to the
sea-side to pass the summer, for it is a truth, not
one showed herself on my path, which run a very
long line through the kingdom ; and even in
Spain, if I may be allowed to judge, the stock is
too small to be worth counting upon, as we Yan
kees say, w. s. s.

LETTERS. 173

XVI.

Madrid, June 1st, 1787.

MY DEAREST AMELIA:

I was rendered extremely happy yesterday
morning, by the receipt of your letter, No. 5,
dated the 3d inst. My last of the 18th, I suppose
is considerably advanced towards you. The re
moval of the Court from Aranjuez, and the impos
sibility of making arrangements there for my de
parture for Lisbon, rendered my return to this
place necessary. I am tired with the inevitable
delay I have met with here, on account of my ser
vant's indisposition ; but his health is now restored,
(though he is rather weak) and i shall put myself
soon again in motion. You know I am a great
advocate for sloping the descent of life, and "strew
ing the way over with flowers," I will do all I can
to collect a sufficiency for you, and aid you in
scattering them to our mutual satisfaction ; and
would even venture to advise the giving up of
all intimacy, with persons who seem disposed to
pluck the thorn rather than the rose. Apropos:
I recollect something clever on this subject, the
substance of which the pleasant minded Franklin
is said to have suggested to a small circle of
friends, i. e. there are two sorts of people in this
world, who with equal degrees of health and
wealth, and the other comforts of life, become, the
one happy, and the other unhappy. This arises
very much, from the different views in which they
consider things, persons, and events ; and the ef-
15*

174 LETTERS.

feet of those different views upon their own minds.
In whatever situation individuals may be placed,
they may find conveniences and inconveniences ;
in whatever company, they may find persons or
conversations more or less pleasing ; at whatever
table, they may meet with meats and drinks of
better and worse taste, dishes better and worse
dressed ; in whatever climate, they will find good
and bad weather ; under whatever government,
they will find good and bad laws, and those laws
well or badly administered ; in every poem or
work of genius, they may see faults and beauties;
in almost every face and every person, they may
discover fine features and defects, good and bad
qualities. Under these circumstances, the two
sorts of people abovementioned fix their attention ;
those who are to be happy on the conveniences of
things ; the pleasant parts of conversation, the
well dressed and well tasted dishes, the goodness
of the wines, the fine weather, &c. &c., and enjoy
all with cheerfulness. Those on the other hand
who are to be unhappy, think and speak only of
the contraries ; hence they are continually discon
tented with themselves, and by their remarks sour
the pleasures of society, offend personally many
people, and make themselves every where disa
greeable. If this turn of mind was founded in
nature, such unhappy persons would be the more
to be pitied ; but as the disposition to criticise and
be disgusted, is perhaps taken up originally by im-

LETTERS. 175

itation. (for man is an imitative animal,) and una
wares grows into a habit, which though strong,
may nevertheless be cured, when those^who have
it, are convinced of its bad effects on their felicity.
I hope this little admonition may be of service to
them, and put them on changing a habit, which
though in the exercise is chiefly an art of imagi
nation, yet it has serious consequences in life, as
it brings on real griefs and misfortunes ; for as
many are offended by, and nobody loves this sort
of people, no one shows them more than the most
common civility and respect, and scarcely that ;
this frequently puts them out of humour, and
draws them into disputes and contentions. If
they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or
fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir
a step, or speak a word to favour their pretensions.
If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one
will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate
their misconduct and render them completely
odious. If these people will not change this bad
habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is
pleasing, without fretting themselves and others
about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid
an acquaintance with them, which is always dis
agreeable and sometimes very inconvenient ; par
ticularly when one finds one's self entangled in
their quarrels. There was an old philosopher,
grown cautious from experience in this particular,
who carefully shunned any intimacy with such
people. He had, like other philosophers, a ther-

176 LETTERS.

mometer to show him the heat of the weather, and
a barometer to show him when it was likely to
prove good or bad. But there being no instru
ment yet invented, to discover at first sight this
unpleasing disposition in a person, he for that
purpose made use of his legs, one of which was
remarkably handsome, the other crooked and de
formed. If a stranger at the first interview, re
garded his ugly leg more than his handsome one,
he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no
notice of the handsome, that was sufficient to de
termine this philosopher to have no further ac
quaintance with him. Every body is not thus
furnished to make this experiment, but every one
with a little attention, may observe signs of that
carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the
same resolution of avoiding the acquaintance of
those infected with it. The story is closed in ad
vice to those critical, querulous, discontented,
fault-finding, unhappy people, that if they wish to
be loved and respected by others, and happy in
themselves, they should leave off looking at the
ugly leg. I dare say, my dear, that you can look
round society, and mark out a few whom this story
might benefit ; thank our stars we are tolerably
clear of this disposition. I have often been di
verted in company, to obeserve persons anxiously
looking out for the ugly leg ; and I dare say it
will not be long after the receipt of this, but you
will smile on the discovery of a similar trick in
the character of some one or other. w. s. s.

LETTERS. 177

XVII.

Madrid, Saturday, June 30th, 1787.

I wrote you my friend on the 25th, No. 16 ; it
was, through mistake, dated the 21st. I then ex
pected to be on my way before this, but the king
thought proper to lay an embargo on all mules
and their drivers, for the accommodation of the
court. I am heartily sick of being detained here,
but have made a positive agreement, signed,
sealed, and delivered, to be taken from this on
Tuesday ; after which there will be a necessary
interruption to that correspondence for a time,
which during my confinement here, has been my
only source of happiness. Mr. Carmichael has
often laughed at me, on discovering my gayety
and good humour, or my sobriety on the arrival
of the post. Yesterday I was as gay as a lark,
and read your agreeable letter of the happy 12th
of June, with every tender and affectionate sen
sation.

Your observation on people mixing with socie
ty, perfectly corresponds with my ideas on that
subject, and I fully agree with you that we should
either remain in our studies, or come out with a
disposition to be pleased, and to mix with the
world with gayety and good humour. This in
tercourse may be fairly viewed through a com
mercial medium, and a useful lesson drawn from
it. When we leave our rooms to seek society, it
would perhaps not be improper to turn the object

178 LETTERS.

in our minds. If we go to seek pleasure and en
tertainment, we should also examine what we
can give in return for it, and whether the inter
course can be made reciprocally amusing — for
unless it is, the circle we frequent will soon be
come tired of us, or we of them ; and like the
merchant who seeks foreign or domestic markets
to exchange his merchandise, we shall frequent
or forsake those places where we can meet with,
or do not find a good equivalent for what we
bring. In the small circle of your friends, you
will find many visit the market with smiles and
approbation ; some with mirth and wit, and a
very few with benevolence and instruction. A
large group travel daily round the stalls, with
slander, censure, and malevolence. The first
will contentedly hear whatever you have to say,
and give you the smile and grin of approbation
in exchange ; the second will demand it again in
exchange for what he brings ; the third class are
generally satisfied with attentive silence, and to
be now and then flattered with a leading question,
which will enable them to display their knowledge
and observation. They are worth cultivating;
indeed so are the two preceding.

"Can smile at sorrows not their own,
And laugh to hear a nation groan,
They are insolent, and vain, and rude,
And grieve at all that's great and good."

They insult, wherever they offer their goods,
and seldom hold any commerce but with each

LETTERS. 179

other. Towards this class I would not only re
fuse to give any thing in exchange, but would not
even accept of their wares ; and instead of even
plaguing myself with telling them that what they
offered was not to my taste, or to the taste of those
who visited my shop, I would keep always ready
a delicately polished mirror, finished by the gen
teel, and of polite reflection, which should be
presented even before they had entirely unpacked,
and I do not think I should ever be troubled with
a second visit ; — but to business. The letter to
Mr. Robert Riddle of Castle Green, Dumfries,
and the will received from Mr. Troup, I wish my
friend would put in the post, with a little note to
Mr. Riddle. He is a polite gentleman, and the
papers are of importance to him. If Mr. Troup's
letter to him is open, shall I ask a copy ? Mr.
Sullivan's affair I shall attend to. I thank you
for your determination to keep a journal ; it is a
good thought, and will amuse you now, and here
after give me pleasure.

It is necessary that I should write to your papa
and Mr. Jefferson by this post. The sentence
contained in cypher of one of my letters from
Aranjuez, I suppose you have communicated —
and as I have some reason to think my letters
pass very securely to you, I shall enclo^ your
papa's under the same cover. Those that you
have favoured me with, have come safe and regu
lar — the last was not numbered. Tell master

180 LETTERS.

William that I am much obliged by his attention,
and hope he will continue to merit the praises of
his mamma ; kiss the dear boy morning, noon,
and night for me,

I am called upon to pay a visit to the Marquis de
de Arranda. I shall return to my pen soon again.

I found at the Marquis's a large party at cards.
They are always to be met with here. He is a
gentleman of great fortune, and keeps an open
table, where every one is well received at dinner
every day he choses to call after his introduction
to the family ; but cards always succeed the cof
fee, and a ride in the Prado takes up the cool of
the evening. What is called society here, is the
assembling of a number of people, who immedi
ately fix themselves at a table, and proceed to
plunder each other politely at cards. But fortu
nately, every one has it at his option to play or
look on ; you are left at free liberty either to do
this, or even to loll on a settee in any of the apart
ments, and sleep out your visit ; a bow on enter
ing, and another when you retire, will pass you
any where ; a careless passive civility, is what is
most current, and is called ease and gentility. After
the ride in the prado, or ornamented meadow, the
opera, standing routes or particularly frescos, close
the evening ; iced creams, and lemonade with
cake, stop the mouths of those who are not dis
posed to be very particular to some one lady.
The former I find excellent.

LETTERS. 181

The evening rides exactly resemble those of
Hyde Park, except that both sides are shaded with
lofty trees well arranged, pleasingly interspersed,
with fountains and running streams ; and in the
centre, lest in the pleasing scene the company
should forget the power of the king, and the na
ture of the government, a number of dragoons
with drawn swords constantly patrole, and the
procession move the round with great regularity,
no one being permitted to turn but at certain
windings and outlets.

The city within is neat, and many streets are
elegantly irregular. It far exceeds Paris, or any
other in Europe that I have seen, except West
minster. Some of their gates show the improved
taste of the times ; but the wall of the city was
built for use detached from ornaments.

You say you should like to pass the leisure
moments in the study of history ; it will give me
great pleasure my friend, to attend you in this
pursuit ; a little acquaintance with geography
would make the pursuit delightful to you. In
the meantime you will find in my closet Robert
son's History of Charles V. The whole of that
Emperor's reign is interesting, and the manner of
his resigning his crown to his son Philip, and vol
untarily retiring from the splendour of a court to
spend the rest of his days in solitude, will com
mand your attention, for at that time it filled all
Europe with astonishment. He took leave of his
16

182 LETTERS.

son Philip II, on the 17th of September, 1556,
and sailing from Holland, which was then under
his government, he landed in Spain, and falling
on the earth he kissed it, and exclaimed, " naked
came I into the world, and naked I now return
to thee, thou common mother of mankind." Dis
missing all his attendants except twelve, he took
up his abode in a small house, which he had or
dered previously built for his reception in a small
valley of this kingdom ; and here, I think it is
Robertson who says, " he buried in solitude and
silence, his grandeur, his ambition, together with
all those vast projects, which during half a cen
tury had alarmed and agitated Europe." He was
particularly curious with regard to the construc
tion of clocks and watches — and having found
after repeated trials, that he could not bring any
two of them to go exactly alike, he is said to have
reflected with a mixture of surprise and regret,
on his own folly, in having bestowed so much
time and labour on the more vain attempt of
bringing mankind to a precise uniformity of sen
timent concerning the intricate and mysterious
doctrines of religion. He was constantly engaged
in foreign wars, or in contests with his protestant
subjects, in fruitless attempts to bring them back
to the Catholic religion. Philip early discovered
his ingratitude and inattention to his father, who
was embarrassed for the first payment which
Philip was to have made him ; though out of his

LETTERS. 183

immense wealth, and extensive possessions both in
Europe and Africa, and the more wealthy conti
nent of South America, he only reserved to him
self 100,000 crowns a year. But the son soon
discovered that with his father's kingdoms he in
herited his views, and though he had transferred to
him his power, he could not transplant his good
qualities. His tyranny and persecutions soon
procured the revolt and loss of the Low Countries,
now the United Provinces, commonly called
Holland. His marriage with Mary, queen of
England, as great a bigot as himself, is considered
a circumstance which rather urged him on to
those acts which disgraced his reign and dismem
bered his empire. But you see 1 am a little
pushed for paper, and it is now too late to obtain
a fresh supply. It is probable when you receive
this, 1 shall be in or near Lisbon.

Tell Mr. Cutting I have received his letter
from Amsterdam, and am much obliged ; he was
right to go with your papa ; and 1 think he had bet
ter postpone his visit to Taunton until rny return.
Remember me affectionately to your mamma.
Sir is I suppose still in Holland. I am, my friend,
with the most unbounded love, yours sincerely,

w. s. s.

XVIII.

Madrid, July 3d, 1787.

One line more, my dear friend, before 1 shut up
my writing desk and bid adieu to Madrid. I have

184 LETTERS.

written several notes of thanks to those who have
contributed to make my stay here tolerably agree
able, and had cleared my desk, but my heart beat
it open to chat a little more with you, to say fare
well, until I get to Lisbon, which calculation will
be twelve days from this date, when I shall again
take my pen, and unfold the scenes I may pass.
Remember me with tenderness, and " all be
yond, let wild ambition grapple for and gain."
Yours most sincerely, w. s. s.

XIX.

Merida, July 9th, 1787, Estremadura.
The weather is extremely warm, which induces
me to begin my journey at two o'clock in the
morning ; we put up at eight and rest until five, it
is now near nine, and the journey for the day is
finished. When I wrote you my friend from Ma
drid No. 18, I gave you some reason to think that
you would not hear from me again, until my ar
rival at Lisbon ; but I suppose you laughed at the
idea, and imagined I should steal a moment from
sleep, to say a word or two on the way. It would
afford you no amusement were I to give a
minute account of the villages through which I
have passed since my departure ; there is such a
sameness prevails throughout, that knowing one,
you may form a tolerable idea of all the rest, and
even the description of that one, I think it would
be prudent for me to retain, until I have the hap-

LETTERS. 185

piness of being with you. In some however, par
ticularly in Orepesa and Truxilles, are the remains
of ancient Moorish or Roman fortifications ; the
latter is asserted by M. L. Dutens, Member of the
Royal Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-lettres
of Paris, and a Fellow of the Royal Society of
London, to be the country of the famous Pizarro,
the conqueror of Peru. With submission to the
learned gentleman, I take the liberty of doubting
it, and beg that you will examine Robertson on
this important point, for I think he will say some
thing of Pizarro which will enable you to forward
me the information I wish. The question is,
where was Pizarro the conqueror of Peru born
and brought up — for education I think he had
none — and on what theatre did he first make his
appearance ? If my recollection does not fail me,
he started forth after Cortez had conquered Mex
ico, and some even say that he was a native of
Panama; this I am pretty clear in. In that dis
trict of country the plan was first laid by Francis
Pizarro, Almagro, and Sucques a priest ; that they
sailed from thence for Spain, and obtained a grant
of all the countries they should conquer. This
great enterprise was undertaken with two hundred
and fifty foot and sixty horse, and from the par
ticular circumstances of the kingdom of Peru at
the time of the invasion, the invaders had every
advantage possible. The reigning king was At-
abalipa, the twelfth of the race of the Incas ; he
16*

186 LETTERS.

had just conquered his brother Huescar, and held
him as a prisoner in Cusco, the then capital of the
Peruvian empire. The system of government
which was pursued by the Incas, you will find in
Barlow's Vision of Columbus, and many lines of
national character justly and delicately drawn.
I. never yet could get it for so long a time as I
wished, for separate from the versifying abilities
of the author, it must contain some historical facts
worth looking into. I shall be amused with the
latter panegyricks ; on the former I shall leave to
better judges. They were a mild and gentle peo
ple, and from the superiority of European arts and
arms, fell an easy prey to the invaders. But Pi-
zarro, while revelling in luxury, and enjoying the
wealth of the greatest conquest that was ever
made, fell a sacrifice to his own pride and avarice,
in his palace in the city of Lima, which he had
founded and built, and which now is the capital
of that kingdom. It has always been convulsed,
and I cannot help thinking, is not much at this
present day disposed for tranquillity.

The mistake of Monsieur Dutens, (if it is one)
may arise from this : there are two other towns
in the world called Truxillo, beside the one we
now dispute about in Estremadura in Spain. The
one is in the kingdom of Peru in South America,
about two hundred miles from Lima; and the other
is in North America in the kingdom of Mexico and
province of Honduras, about three hundred miles

LETTERS. 187

northeast of Amapalla ; perhaps this last was the
native place of Pizarro — that he transferred the
name to the town in S. A. &c. &c. ; but I won't
at this distance from my little library plague my
self with conjectures, but Mr. Duton's opinion
must be looked into — in the meantime I will only
say that the place I now write from is situated on
the River Guadiana, and was once the capital of
Estremadura, and abounds with interesting mon
uments of antiquity ; it was formerly a Roman
city of some considerable note if I may judge from
the venerable pillars and arches, in and about the
place. There is a column of white marble in the
square (which I suppose the centre of the ancient
city,) crowned with a pedestrian statue. Time
has not made any great depredations on this col
umn ; it stands firm, and preserves its grandeur
amid the surrounding ruins. I could not help
attempting to draw a line of comparison between
the people who raised this column, and turned the
neighbouring arches, and those who at the pres
ent day were treading out their grain with horses
in the environs of these ancient relics. But as
" death opens wide the gates of fame, and shuts
close the doors of envy after," and imagination is
apt to paint in too high colours, I am apprehen
sive I have complimented the Roman character,
too much at the expense of the Spanish. I have
a high idea of the former, and am looking out for
every favourable impression from the latter. I

188 LETTERS.

have in several instances been fortunate, but have
not yet made up my mind. There appears a
strange jumble which I can neither digest nor
reconcile — but a further knowledge of them, and
a little more thought, may satisfy me ; at present
clouds and darkness rest upon it. Yours,

w. s. s.

XX.

Lisbon, July 16th, 1787.

I arrived here the last evening, and sent imme
diately to the merchant to whom I am addressed,
to inquire for a letter from my dear Amelia, and
was not a little mortified to receive for answer,
that the gentleman was gone to his country house
to spend the day with some friends, it being Sun
day. Well, says patience, wait until the morn
ing, Mr. Colonel, and you shall have it, for I am
sure the letter has been forwarded. It turned out
exactly so, and at breakfast this morning I was
blessed with No. 7, of the 20th of June, contin
uing by adjournments until it embraced the 22d.
I have half a mind to get a cork jacket made, and
like the lover who swam the Hellespont every
night to meet his fair one, plunge into the Atlantic,
and seek the white cliffs of Albion. The difficul
ties which were painted on my route were easily
overcome, or vanished as I approached them.
There is a strange disposition afloat in the world,
to let the bad foot command the attention. A

LETTERS. 189

gentleman wrote me the morning I left London,
some instructions relative to the route and mode
of travelling, for observe, he had been through
these countries. He recommends me by all
means, to travel through Spain and Portugal on
horse-back, arid to carry my portmanteau on a
mule; for, says he, "for a carriage, the roads are
but passable — for an English carriage imprac
ticable" I shall have the pleasure of relating to
that gentleman, how agreeable a good English
carriage has made the journey to me ; and I shall
say further, that I am thus far without suffering
the least fracture only of one of the lamps, when
the muleteer drove me against the side of a house.
I very coolly told him I did not choose to go in
that way, if he would please to enter at the gate
way, I should thank him. It is true that every body
appears, and some express their astonishment at
so light a carriage having performed the journey.
I have met with several who have broken wheels
and springs, but by the attention I paid to this
carriage before I set out — you may remember I
walked often to the coach-maker's — it has fully
equalled my expectations, and I am much pleased
with the fidelity of the coach-maker ; his work
does him honour. I have not the least doubt but
it will carry me secure back again.

I am rendered doubly happy to be informed in
your agreeable letter, of the welfare of my family
in America, I am deeply interested in their hap-

190 LETTERS.

piness, and pleased to hear they are well and
cheerful. You will find us, my Emmy, a family
of friends, looking upon each other with every
benevolent sensation, and anxiously disposed to
promote each other's happiness. In such a circle
I think Heaven designed you to move, and not in
the cold, unfeeling round of life, where each looks
on the other with the eye of indifference, except
only when they can answer each other's purposes.
But check to your castle, says you — thank you,
my queen. You say Charity expresses her appre
hension that I have discovered something in her
style which did not meet with my approbation,
and thus she accounts for my silence. You will
find from this circumstance, my dear, how well I
am known — even the waters of the Atlantic can
not shelter me from a discovery. I own I was
somewhat hurt at a sentence in one of her letters
to me, but the dear girl would never have known
it had she not made the observation you forward
ed — nay, I doubt whether if she was to read the
letter ten times over she would discover it herself.
I will now write her, and smooth it over. I am
a strange creature, and I acknowledge it ; but you
will make me a good one I hope. I know it was
not fair to let the trifle — for a trifle it was — rest
upon my mind ; but I have very little disguise in
me, and would never nourish the least particle of
it, were it not sometimes necessary to the happi
ness of others; but I find it very difficult, and

LETTERS. 191

sometimes almost next to an impossibility to
" carry smiles and sunshine in my face, when
discontent sets heavy on my heart," or to write
a letter of tenderness, affection, or friendship,
when my feelings are not in unison, or do not
correspond with the subject. I admire a reply of
Bethas, an Arabian prince, who being taken pris
oner in the course of a war between him and the
Prince of Parthia, when the latter upbraided him
with having undertaken the war upon vile and
mercenary principles, and that the reasons he
originally gave for it were not founded in fact,
but that other and stronger motives lay concealed.
He said, "no sir, 'twas honour urged me to the
war; it is my ruling star by which I steer through
life, and shun the shelves of infamy and vice;"
and to the latter charge, proceeding, he exclaim
ed with dignity, "there you mistake me, Prince,
for dissimulation never marked my looks, nor flat
tering deceit e'er taught my tongue the tale of
falsehood to disguise my thoughts." But 1 am
quite out of my depth and calculation ; 1 am on
the fourth side, and almost to the bottom, when I
candidly acknowledge I intended only to fill this
sheet; for as you say, it has a long way to travel,
but I have got so far, and I will proceed to the
other.

My last letter to you my friend, was marked
No. 19, (but you take no notice of not having re
ceived No. 10) dated on the 9th inst., from Merida,

192 LETTERS.

in the Spanish* Province of Estremadura, on the
River Guadiana, which after entering the king
dom of Portugal at Elvas, and dividing the king
dom of Algarva, (subject to Portugal) from the
province of Andalusia, loses itself in the Mediter
ranean Ocean at Aymonte, a Spanish town about
eighty-five miles northwest of Cadiz, where I sup
pose sober-sided Harrison now is. I said some
thing about Merida, its past grandeur and present
appearance, its ancient arches, and a pillar on
which an equestrian statue is fixed, and as you
are pleased to express yourself interested in the
small points of history which I have touched in
some of my letters, I shall tell you what puzzles
me; on the one side of the pillar mentioned, is
clearly legible Concordice Augusti — the other
I could not make out, but it finishes, Romce, 1646.
On reading this I was instantly overshadowed
with a darkness similar to what was felt in Egypt,
and I cannot yet find out what this 1646 means.
The different dates of the rise and fall of empires
is pretty well preserved, and history clearly proves
to us that the Egyptians communicated to the
Greeks, those to the Romans, and they to the
present inhabitants of Europe, the luxuries and
refinements of civilized life. We know that
Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus in
the year 753, before the birth of Christ — that in

* There is a Province in Portugal of the same name, in the Capital of
which I am at present.

LETTERS. 193

the year 328, after Christ, Constantine removed
the seat of empire from Rome to Constantinople,
and that in 476, Rome fell a pray to the Barba
rians of the North, and that Odoaeer their leader,
occupied the thrones of the Caesars. We also
know that wars, tumult, and a general confusion,
attended with ignorance, overspread Europe for
several hundred years, which gradually dispers
ing, the dawnings of refinement, and the stages of
improvement are traced pretty clearly to the lat
ter end of the fifteenth century, viz: in 1492,
when Columbus sailed for the discovery of Amer
ica ; from that period to the present day is very
clearly known — the progress in the arts and sci
ences, and the general amelioration of the state of
man has not wanted recorders. Now through all
these meanders, I can get no light thrown upon
Romce, 1646. Perhaps your papa can explain
it, while I proceed to tell my friend, that having
crossed the Gaudiana in the morning of the tenth,
on a strong stone bridge of sixty-one arches, I
proceeded to Badajos, the capital of Estremadura,
and the last town in Spain, strongly fortified and
garrisoned. On the eleventh, having recrossed
the Guadiana on a bridge of twenty-seven arches,
at ten o'clock 1 entered the kingdom of Portugal,
and at twelve drove into Elvas, the frontier gar
rison of the kingdom. As I entered the gate, the
officer of the guard, according to custom, took my
name and I passed to the Posada. In a very short
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194 LETTERS.

time the commanding officer. Senior Guillerme
Luir Antonio Je Vallere, Marechal de Camps, (fee.
&c., waited upon me. He said that as soon as
the garrison-guard reported my arrival and name,
he set out to pay his respects, to offer his services
during the time I honoured the garrison with my
presence ; and hoped I would do him the favour
to take a soldier's dinner with him. "You will,
sir," says he, " excuse the rapidity of my advances,
when I assure you I have known you some time,
though I never had the pleasure of seeing you be
fore." I was quite thunder-struck with all this
profusion of compliment and civility, thanked
him for his politeness, and accepted his invitation
to dinner — determined to look further into his
character. I would give some few pence to know
what he meant, when he said he had known me
for some considerable time ; but here I could not
with decency discover any anxiety. On entering
his quarters, I found his table covered with min
erals and petrefactions, (fee. (fee., and different
specimens of wood laying under. I compliment
ed him on the scene, and began with him as a
philosopher, admiring the sports, exertions, and
arrangements of Nature, exhibited in the several
productions which lay before us ; he joined with
great relish, and after running some time on this
horse we mounted the botanical nags, a collection
of which he produced. I admired some, and took
the seeds of others, with instructions how to raise

LETTERS. 195

and use them. A case of mathematical instru
ments which lay near, induced me to leap the
ditch and mount the parapet, and we proceeded
to fortification and gunnery, in all which I found
him instructed superior to any officer I have ever
met with — in short I passed this day delightful
ly. He extended his politeness further: after'
dinner he showed all the works, and the interior ar
rangements of the garrison, and amused me for an
half hour with the exercise and firing of a com
pany of Infantry and Artillery. It was better than
a pinch of snuff; and when I took my leave of
him he gave me a letter of introduction to his lady
and daughter here, whom I have taken tea with
this afternoon ; and ordered two of his dragoons
to attend me through the kingdom, and to see me
safe in Lisbon. This they faithfully attended to,
and I dismissed them this morning, with thanks,
and money to carry them back again ; (if people
will dance they must pay the fiddler.) I am divert
ed with mamma's dream, on the first of April ; it
shows at least that she thinks a little about us,
and what she says of the succession, I dare say you
will agree with me in supposing it would be bet
ter so than worse ; but I agree with you in think
ing it has come forward at a very early period,
for it most certainly existed previous to the arrival
of the persons mentioned, but time and patience
will unfold all, and my next will say something
to you about the time you may expect to have me

196 LETTERS.

to yourself ; but why, my dear, do you say your
next shall be deposited at Bordeaux ; have you not
been a little too hasty in this decision ? But it is
done, and I can only mourn that if I should be
detained here two or three weeks, that I shall not
have another line from you until I get into France,
which, let me be as industrious as I can be, can
not be in less than a month or six weeks; but I'll
play you a trick for this, so look sharp. During
the course of the war, I was stationed with three
hundred and eighty chosen men, at Updikes,
New Town, in the State of Rhode Island, oppo
site the British army. I had detached a Captain
and fifty, some distance on my right, to guard a
pass, &c. &c., a circumstance came to my knowl
edge, which gave him some little advantage of
the enemy. I sent orders to him in writing to
do so and so, and press the advantage that for
tune might favour him with, and at the moment
that I expected his report of having done the
business, I received information of the enemy hav
ing passed, and soon after his account confirming
it, with a detail of what he had done. It was dif
ferent from what I had requested, and he excused
himself by saying, he thought he did for the best.
But, sir, did I not tell you every stage, and prom
ise information if any changes were necessa
ry? He said yes — but he thought he was doing
for the best. I was obliged to tell him he had no
right to think. I arrested and broke, and sent

LETTERS. 197

him home to think and contrive. But this is an
out-of-the-way story — Bordeaux is the word —
and with love to my boy and mamma, I am, my
dear girl, your most affectionate friend,

WILLIAM.

XXI.

Lisbon, July 31st, 1787.

And I stand my hand, that is to say, having
played the game of twenty-one, I stop and beat
you. It is a long time though, my dear, since 20
was dated ; but your goodness will form many
excuses, and my candour when I see you will
satisfy you relative to the long silence. I have
been every moment employed since I arrived ; I
have got through all my affairs well, equal to my
expectation, and have been received and treated
with every mark of politeness and respect I could
wish. My last gave you an account of my recep
tion at the Advanced Garrison, and I have found
no diminution of attention. I have had two
interviews with the minister, and doubt not but
my report to Congress will be acceptable ; but
more of this when I see you, which I think, Hea
ven favouring, will not now be long. I have re
ceived No. 8 and 9 ; I thank you for not strictly
attending to your determination, relative to your
depositing letters for me at Bordeaux. I shall
profit by the hint in your last, and embark for
Fal mouth in five or six days from this, so that
17*

198 LETTERS.

the next place you will hear from me will be
there ; and then, very, very soon my love, I will
be with you. It will happen fortunately, if you
should be on a visit to some friends about Exeter,
who I have often heard your mamma speak of;
a line left for me at the post-offices of Falmouth
and Exeter, informing where you are, (fee. would
put every thing straight. But you will have fin
ished your jaunt before that, and I shall have
nothing to do after I land, if I find no orders at
the post- office, than to clatter away for Grosvenor
Square as quick as possible.

I was some days past at an entertainment of the
French Ambassador's ; he outshines brilliancy it
self. The company collected in number about
200 at and before 8, and after looking very agree
able at ea<?h other for about half an hour, were
called into another apartment, where a very neat
theatre was well arranged, and the ambassadress,
and her sister, with two French noblemen, and
one or two small characters, entertained the com
pany with a pretty, light French comedy of two
acts. It was performed with great vivacity, and
the ladies, as in every thing they undertake, dis
covered a sprightly, pretty genius. After the
play, the gardens, which are extensive, were well
illuminated, and the company strolled through
them. At the extremity of the walk was a very
spacious hall formed by grape-vines, well lighted,
with music, and the young part of the company

LETTERS. 199

soon fell a dancing. For the graver, a band of
good music kept constantly playing soft, gentle
tunes, whose melody attracted not a few, and
furnished amusement for those who thought the
gardens and the night air better avoided. Time
passed thus until one, when a very elegant sup
per was served. If I was to take this as a stand
ard, I should suppose supper to be their favourite
meal. After supper, the company rose and return
ed to the dance, I had enough, and went to bed.
The French seem determined to lose no opportu
nity in ingratiating themselves every where by
their politeness and affability. Apropos: the
French ambassadress here is elegance itself ; she
appears about five or seven and twenty, with a
most perfect form, and a soft animating counte
nance. You ask me about Spanish ladies — it is
the kingdom of ugliness ; the polite circle here is
handsome, and what I have seen of their man
ners, I like them something better than their
neighbours. But I'll tell you the whole story
when I see you ; until I reach Falmouth, adieu.

w. s. s.

XXII.

Falmouth, August 20th, 1787.

Perhaps by this time you may have received my
last from Lisbon. I have now the pleasure of in
forming my friend of my arrival here this day in
the packet from that place, rather a little deranged

200 LETTERS.

by my journeys and voyage, at least rendered
much lighter. I shall lose no more time in being
with you, than what an attention to my health
requires. My business at Lisbon was brought to
a very agreeable and honourable period, and I
left it well satisfied ; a little pride, which some
times on occasion I can bring into play, and a
little address, produced wonders, and made the
diplomatic corps stare. I came off with the Con
tinental colours flying, and shall soon have the
happiness of laying them at your feet. Kiss the
boy, and remember me to papa and mamma. I
am, my dear, yours sincerely and affectionately,

w. s. s.

xxni.

Falmouth, August 22d, 1787.

I wrote you, my love, the first thing I did after my
landing here on the 20th ; I then proposed setting
off from this, yesterday or this morning ; but I am
in check. I was yesterday at 4 o'clock, visited by
an ague and fever, which shook and warmed me
alternately pretty tolerably ; this day I am free
from it, and with the advice of a very good doctor
who attends me, I hope soon to be allowed to put
myself in motion towards one who possesses all my
affections and merits all my love. The acquaint
ance which I formed in this place when I arrived
from America, and the letters of introduction which
I brought from Lisbon, insure me every civility and

LETTERS. 201

respect I can wish. I am visited and attended in a
very particular manner, and want for nothing but
to be enabled to bid them farewell, and hasten to
you. It is a painful detention to be so near, and
upon the same island, and not be able to advance.
You must not write, my friend, for I am in hopes
before this reaches you to be on my way to you.
I shall pass through Exeter, Tauriton, Bath,
Marlborough, &c., as being the best road — hav
ing the best horses and accommodations — for a
few days longer, and this painful separation I
hope will be at an end. Yours,

w. s. s.

XX IV.

Exeter, August 27th, 1787, Monday,

half past four o'clock, P. M.

I have run away thus far from my fever, my
friend, and find myself increasing in health and
spirits as I get nearer to you — but I am little
more than a travelling shadow. I have had a
tight time of it, as we Yankees say, but thank
Heaven it is over, and 7 once more permitted to
advance upon the delightful theatre of health ; the
real charms of which none but those who have
been forced by the arrangements of Nature, or
who have fallen from it by their own folly, or
imprudence, seem to be proper judges of, and
even some of them upon their restoration, run on
heedless of the lesson. I shall compose myself

202 LETTERS.

for this day, and get in motion again about nine
to-morrow, and lodge atTaunton to-morrow night,
and thus gently I am obliged to approach. I hope
after I pass Bath, to be able to be a little more
lengthy in my journey ; at any rate, 1 think I may
venture to say, you may expect me to dinner on
Friday.

Heaven bless and protect you and the dear boy.
Remember me to sir and mamma. Yours,

w. s. s.

TO MISS ADAMS.

Paris, August 13th, 1783.

MY DEAR DAUGHTER I

I have received your affectionate letter of the
10th of May, with great pleasure, and another
from your mother of the 28th and 29th of April,
which by mistake I omitted to mention in my
letter to her to-day. Your education and your
welfare, my dear child, are very near my heart ;
and nothing in this life would contribute so much
to my happiness, next to the company of your
mother, as yours. I have reason to say this by
the experience I have had of the society of your
brother, whom I brought with me from the Hague.
He is grown to be a man, and the world says they
should take him for my younger brother, if they
did not know him to be my son. I have great
satisfaction in his behaviour, as well as in the im
provements he has made in his travels, and the

LETTERS. 203

reputation he has left behind him wherever he
has been. He is very studious and delights in
nothing but books, which alarms me for his
health ; because, like me, he is naturally inclined
to be fat. His knowledge and his judgment are
so far beyond his years, as to be admired by all
who have conversed with him. I lament, how
ever, that he could not have his education at Har
vard College, where his brothers shall have theirs,
if Providence shall afford me the means of sup
porting the expense of it. If my superiors shall
permit me to come home, I hope it will be soon ;
if they mean I should stay abroad, I am not able
to say what I shall do, until I know in what ca
pacity. One thing is certain, that I will not live
long without my family, and another is equally
so, that I can never consent to see my wife and
children croaking with me like frogs in the Fens
of Holland, and burning and shivering alternately
with fevers, as Mr. Thaler, Charles, Stephen, and
myself have done : your brother John alone had
the happiness to escape, but I was afraid to trust
him long amidst those pestilential steams.

You have reason to wish for a taste for history,
which is as entertaining and instructive to the fe
male as to the male sex. My advice to you would
be to read the history of your own country, which
although it may not afford so splendid objects as
some others, before the commencement of the late
war, yet since that period, it is the most interest-

204 LETTERS.

ing chapter in the history of the world, and before
that period is intensely affecting to every native
American. You will find among your own an
cestors, by your mother's side at least, characters
which deserve your attention. It is by the female
world, that the greatest and best characters among
men are formed. I have long been of this opinion
to such a degree, that when 1 hear of an extraor
dinary man, good or bad, I naturally, or habitually
inquire who was his mother? There can be no
thing in life more honourable for a woman, than
to contribute by her virtues, her advice, her ex
ample, or her address, to the formation of an hus
band, a brother, or a son, to be useful to the world.
Heaven has blessed you, my daughter, with an
understanding and a consideration, that is not
found every day among young women, and with
a mother who is an ornament to her sex. You
will take care that you preserve your own char
acter, and that you persevere in a course of con
duct, worthy of the example that is every day be
fore you. With the most fervent wishes for your
happiness, I am your affectionate father,

JOHN ADAMS.

TO MRS. SMITH.

Philadelphia, Feb. 21st, 1797.
DEAR CHILD:

I believe I have not acknowledged your favour
of the 20th January, which I received in its
season.

LETTERS.

205

I hope your apprehensions that " the party who
have embarrassed the President, and exerted them
selves to divide the election, will endeavour to
render my situation as uncomfortable as possi
ble," will be found to be without sufficient foun
dation ; I have seen, on the contrary, a disposition
to acquiesce, and hope it will increase. I am not
at all alarmed ; I know my countrymen very
well.

If the way to do good to my country, were to
render myself popular, I could easily do it. But
extravagant popularity is not the road to public
advantage.

By the 4th of March I shall know what to do.
I cannot build my house till the foundation is
laid ; at present I know not what house I shall
have, nor what means to furnish it. These things
will be determined in ten days. At present I be
lieve it will be best for your mother to remain
where she is until October. I shall go to her as
soon as I can.

Your brother John continues to give the high
est satisfaction to government by his great indus
try, his deep discernment, his independent spirit,
and his splendid talents. I hear such commen
dations of him as no other man abroad obtains.

In your solitary hours, my dear daughter, you

will have a delightful opportunity of attending to

the education of your children, to give them a

taste and attachment to study, and to books. A

18

206 LETTERS.

taste for science and literature, added to a turn for
business, never can fail of success in life. With
out learning, nothing very great can ever be ac
complished in the way of business. But not only
a thirst for knowledge should be excited, and a
taste for letters be cultivated, but prudence, pa
tience, justice, temperance, resolution, modesty,
and self-cultivation, should be recommended to
them as early as possible. The command of their
passions, the restraint of their appetites, reverence
for superiors, especially parents, a veneration for
religion, morals, and good conduct.

You will find it more for your happiness to
spend your time with them in this manner, than
to be engaged in fashionable amusements, and
social entertainments, even with the best com
pany.

But I must restrain myself, and subscribe the
name of your affectionate father,

JOHN ADAMS.

TO MRS. SMITH.

Quincy, September 26th, 1802.
MY DEAR DAUGHTER:

I received last night your favour of the 17th,
and thank you for the pamphlet you sent me ; I
had read those before. Most of the pamphlets are
sent me by one and another, as well as the news
papers.

To read so much malignant dulness is an

LETTERS. 207

odious task, but it cannot well be avoided. I
have the history, too, of my administration. Good
God ! is this a public man sitting in judgment
on nations ; and have the American people so
little judgment, taste, arid sense as to endure it?

The history of the Clintonian Faction, as it is
called, I shall be glad to see. The society he as
serts to exist, and which you say has not been de
nied, I fear is of more consequence than you seem
to be aware of.

But to dismiss this society for the present.
There is another set of beings who seem to have
unlimited influence over the American people.
They are a detachment, 1 fear, from a very black
regiment in Europe, which was more than once
described to me by Stockdale of Piccadilly, whom
you must have seen at my house in Grosvenor
Square. " Mr. Adams," said the bookseller, " the
men of learning in this town are stark mad. I
know one hundred gentlemen in London of great
learning and ingenuity, excellent writers upon
any subject, any one of whom I can hire at any
time for one guinea a day, to write upon any
theme, for or against any cause, in praise, or in
defamation of any character." A number of the
most profligate of these have come to this country
very hungry, and are getting their bread by de
stroying all distinction between right and wrong,
truth and falsehood, virtue and vice.

You speak of " moderate people on both sides ;"

208 LETTERS.

if you know of any such, I congratulate you on
your felicity. All I know of that description are
of no more consequence than if there were none.
Commerce will decline, and the revenue fail.
What expedient the government will have re
course to, 1 presume not to conjecture. I mourn
over the accumulated disgraces we are bringing
on ourselves, but I can do nothing.

The prisoners from St. Domingo will be dan
gerous settlers in the southern states. The French
care very little whether turning them loose is in
sult or injury, provided we will cordially receive,
or tamely connive at them.

My health is good, and my spirits would be
high, if the prospect before us did not present
clouds portending bad weather.

My love to Col. Smith and the children. The
young gentlemen, I hope, think of Greece and
Italy. I am your affectionate father,

JOHN ADAMS.

LETTERS. 209

TO MISS SMITH.

Quincy, January 24th, 1808.

MY DEAR CAROLINE I

To-morrow will be a fortnight since you left
me *; I have watched the weather with much so
licitude, and when we had snow, as we had the
Thursday after you set out, I hoped it might
speed your journey, provided there should not be
too great a quantity ; although the storm was se
vere and cold on Saturday, it was pleasant sleigh
ing. I flattered myself we should enjoy it for a
week or ten days, but so changeable the season
that on Monday we had a partial thaw. If you
have had similar weather I fear you have not
reached your journey's end. We were rejoiced
to hear from you at Worcester, and afterward at
Northampton. A letter from a travelling friend
is a great treat to those who sit by their fire
sides, compassionate their toils, sometimes fancy
ing that they must suffer from the cold, from the
snow, from the rain, hard beds, scanty clothes,
small pillows. &c. But patience, my dear girl,
will make a smooth road where the pick-axe has
never levelled the inequalities, and soften the
mattress and the pillow.

18*

210 LETTERS.

You will find new scenes opening before you ;
in the venerable oaks, you must fancy you see
the image of those grandparents you have left
behind, and every tree of the forest you must pic
ture some friend or acquaintance, even to our little
A., who daily calls for you. You must write me
how you spend your time, what are your daily
occupations and amusements, what acquaintance
you make with the quail, the partridge, and the
pheasant. If you find sufficient amusement in
the winter, the spring will give you new employ
ment, and new pleasures.

" You must mark how spring the tended plants,
How Nature paints her colours, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweets."

I shall fancy you flitting about among the trees
gathering the sweets of the season. Your friends
were all much surprised at your sudden flight,
and regret that they had not the opportunity of
bidding you adieu. I shall send my regards to
uncle Justus, and congratulate him on the acqui
sition of his female friends; tell him they will
make the wilderness blossom like the rose, and
add much comfort, I hope, to his domestic happi
ness. He deserves, I think, all they can bestow.

I think of you more on Sunday than on any
other day. If you cannot attend public worship,
you can spend your Sabbaths in a useful manner,
as Mr. W. told us to-day, every moment should
be devoted to some useful purpose, that we might

LETTERS, 211

ask the moments as they passed, what report they
bore to Heaven — that the more we cultivated and
improved our intellectual powers, the more capa
ble we should be of enjoyment in a higher and
more perfect state of existence ; the nearer we
should be allied to angels, and the spirits of just
men made perfect ; and that in order to cultivate
our faculties to advantage, we must have order and
method in all our affairs.

I am called to close my letter, yet I have not
said half I intended ; take it as it is, warm from
the heart of your affectionate grandmother,

A. ADAMS.

TO MISS SMITH.

Quincy, May 28th, 1808.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

Your letter of May the 8th, your grandpapa
brought home with him from church, on Sunday
the 20th ; owing to sickness I was not able to go,
and am yet confined to my chamber. My fever
and cough are both leaving me, and I hope a few
days more will give me health sufficient to enjoy
the fine season.

I have been reading a novel called the Wild
Irish Girl. Why the term wild is given, I know
not, unless as a ridicule upon those who imbibe
national prejudices, merely from vague report.
She is represented as living in an ancient barony
with her father, who in the wars had been de-

212 LETTERS.

spoiled of his property, and had retired with his
daughter, her old nurse, and Father John, a learn
ed, polite, and liberal minded priest, from whom
she received her education. Here she lived, a
recluse from the world, but with a lively imagi
nation, a sportive fancy, a devotion to music,
which she practised upon her harp, the favourite
instrument of her country. She studied, and was
perfectly versed in the historic knowledge of her
native land ; as a resource, she became a botanist,
and on a thousand occasions, displayed such a
love of nature and its productions, which she de
scribes so artlessly, with such a vivid display of
superior powers, that she charms and enchants
the reader. She had gathered the first rosebud
of the spring, which she had watched with much
care, and presented to a young stranger, whom
chance had led to the barony, and who had for
some months been an inmate there, and who at
the request of her father had been her preceptor
in drawing. In return she repeated to him a lit
tle ode from the French. "Oh beautiful! beauti
ful!" exclaimed Glorvina, "I thank you for this
beautiful ode; the rose was always my idol flower
in all its different stages of existence ; it speaks a
language my heart understands, from its young
bud's first crimson glow, to the last sickly blush
of its faded bloom; it is the flower of sentiment
in all its sweet transitions ; it breathes a moral,
and seems to preserve an undecayingsoulin that

LETTERS.

213

fragrant essence which still survives the bloom
and symmetry of the fragile form which every
beam too ardent, every gale too chill, injures and
destroys."

Your little darling A. has been sick, and looks
like the flower or the bud in its faded form, which
I have just been describing ; more interesting in
decay than bloom — one exciting all the pleasing
sensations, the other a softer and tenderer senti
ment.

Our friends here are all well. To-morrow
will be our general election day; the embargo
should not be complained of by the federalists, for
it has increased their number ten fold, and will
be like to give them such a weight in the coun
cils of the nation, as no other measure of a peace
able kind could have effected.

TVith the love and affection of the whole family,
jointly and severally, I close my letter to my dear
Caroline, and am her truly affectionate grand
mother, A. A.

Quincy, August 30th, 1808.

MY DEAR CAROLINE !

Your apology for not having written before was
accepted by your grandmother. To be attentive
to our guests is not only true kindness, but true
politeness ; for if there is a virtue which is its own
reward, hospitality is that virtue. We remember
slight attentions, after we have forgotten great

214 LETTERS.

benefits ; sweetness of temper, easiness of be
haviour, and kindness of disposition, are pecu
liarly engaging in youth, and when found in age,
adorn life's decline. But why need I recommend
these virtues to my dear girl, when she has one of
the first patterns for her imitation before her in
her father, whose cordial hospitality, and true po
liteness, are known to all who have any knowl
edge of him, either in the camp, the city, or the
wilderness ? Were it not for this, and the excel
lent example you have before you, for prudence,
moderation, and discretion, in another character,
I should fear you would become rusticated, and
lose that polish, which is of some value in the
polite world, and without which, I have known
many a talent hidden under a bushel, instead of
shedding a lustre all around.* A. A.

Quincy, Feb. 2d, 1809.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

I have not written to you this year, and this is
the second month of it ! and let us ask the rising
year, now open to our view yet wrapped in dark
ness, whither dost thou lead ? Let cheerful hope
receive the welcome guest, gratefully recollecting
the many blessings of the past year, and commit
ting ourselves to the wise and overruling Provi
dence, who suffers not a sparrow to fall to the
ground without his notice.

I have sympathized with you in the trouble you

* Only a part of this letter is given.

LETTERS. 215

have experienced since I wrote to yon last ; first
upon account of the dangerous accident your
uncle met with, and then upon the death of a do
mestic. I know your mind is susceptible offender
impressions; these were implanted in the human
breast for wise purposes. You have cause for
great thankfulness, that although death entered
your habitation, your uncle was spared to you,
whose loss would have been much more to be de
plored and lamented, than the one whom it pleased
Heaven to take. Death at any time, and in any
form, is a solemn event.

" Nor is the heavenly warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray."

I have now to thank you for your charming
letter of December. Cultivate, my dear, those
lively spirits, and that sweet innocence and con
tentment, which will rob the desert of its gloom,
and cause the wilderness to bloom around you.
Destitute of these qualifications, a palace would
not yield satisfaction, or the most affluent circum
stances bestow peace of mind, or tranquillity of
heart. Always remember that you are account
able to that being who brought you into existence,
for your time and talents ; that you were not born
for yourself, but to fill every hour with some
useful employment, as says the song :

" Man was created for useful employ,

From earth's first creation till now ;
And 'tis good for his health, his comfort and joy,
To live by the sweat of his brow."

216 LETTERS.

Do not say grandmamma preaches. I know
my Caroline thinks and reflects seriously, and she
will lay up these admonitions, and value them
when her grandmother can no longer indite them.
I treasure up and venerate many of the maxims
of my good grandmother Quincy, as the most
precious of relics ; with her, I passed my early,
wild, and giddy days, for of such I had my full
share ; but

" Her easy presence chocked no decent mirth ;
She still remembered that she once was young,
And laughing would instruct."

Have you a world of snow ? We have a much
larger quantity than last year. It is my misfor
tune to be confined to the house at this season ;
snow does not suit my constitution, it gives me
the rheumatism; I have more of it now than is
agreeable ; the Dr. has put me on calomel and
opium pills, and a water gruel regimen ; I hope
it will go off in a few days ; confinement does
not suit me or my family.

Does W. go to Philadelphia ; or does he wait
for the day to dawn? it is time to look for a
change. Where the light is to spring up I know
not ; the people of this state are wrought up to a
high tone. I hope they will be induced to keep
the peace, and try all lawful means for redress.
God defend us from a civil war ; but oppression
will produce it, and our rulers will have much to
answer for. You say you hate politics ; but

LETTERS. 217

when your native country is so seriously threat
ened, you cannot be a descendant from the spirit
of '76, to be totally indifferent to what is passing.
From your affectionate grandmother,

A. A.

Quincy, August 12th, 1809.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

Last Saturday my dear children and grand
children sailed in the ship Horace, Capt. Beckford,
for St. Petersburg!! ; this separation from a dear
son, at the advanced age both of your grandfather
and myself, was like taking our last leave of him,
and was felt by us both with the keenest anguish.
Our hearts were "garnered up in him," perhaps
too closely, and we were called to this trial to
wean us from too strong an attachment to this
earth.

"Hope which springs eternal in the human
breast," whose figure is represented as leaning up
on an anchor, still whispers a consolation to which
the sorrowing heart still clings, and is buoyed
up by it, that we may yet meet again. To the
Sovereign Disposer of all events, I would strive
cheerfully to submit. I could sustain the separa
tion with more fortitude if one equally dear to me*
was not also separated far from me, though not in
a foreign land, yet so distant, that I am cut off
from all personal intercourse ; that I can hear

* Mrs. Adams' only daughter, Mrs. Smith.

19

218 LETTERS.

frequently from her is a comfort and consola
tion to me. "I would not," says Mrs. Grant,
whose letters I have sent your mamma, I think,
u desire to live a day longer, than while my heart
was warmed by an affectionate intercourse with
those I love."

To you I have long been indebted for a letter,
which merited a much earlier reply ; I knew
you were enjoying the society of your young
and valued friends, therefore was the less anxious
about writing, as I was so fully occupied in my
own family. Be assured of the aifection of your
grandmother,* A. A.

Quincy, Dec. 9th, 1809.

MY DEAR CAROLINE I

Thursday, 30th November, was our Thanks
giving Day; I was not able to attend church,
owing to my eye, which I regretted : our good
minister is always excellent upon particular oc
casions ; I am told he was upon this.

At dinner I looked round, I hope with a thank
ful heart, but alas ! how many of my dear child
ren were absent, not one of them to give pleasure
to the festive table ; the young shoots and branches
remained ; I had two from each family ; these
promising successors of their dear parents rejoiced
over their plum-puddings without knowing what
were the reflections and anxious solicitude of
their grandmother, respecting some of their absent
parents.

* Only a part of this letter is given.

LETTERS. 219

For health, food, and raiment, for peace, and for
society, and unnumbered other favours, may my
heart pour forth its grateful effusions, and in the
words of the poet I may say,

" When all thy mercies, O my God !

My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise."

That no inroad has been made by death amongst
any of my near and dear connections, is a sin
cere source of grateful remembrance ; may the
lives and health of every branch be prolonged,
until, like a shock of corn fully ripe, we may be
gathered to our fathers.

No apology is ever necessary to my dear C.
for any serious reflections which may fall from
the pen of her aged grandmother ; reflection be
comes all ages, and she does not the less delight
in the innocent gayety and vivacity of youth ;

" She still remembers that she once was young."

I am rejoiced to find that you intend to turn
your spinning wheel; the more we are qualified
to help ourselves, the less dependent we are upon
others ; from the present temper of old England,
it looks as if we should be less her customers than
formerly. I would recommend the use of them
in every family. We had better return to the
pastoral age, than suffer the domination of any
foreign power.

It is said, that the Emperor Augustus wore no

220 LETTERS.

clothes but such as were made by the Empress
and her daughters ; and Olympias did the same
for Alexander.

The web of Penelope is well known to you, as
related by Homer in his Odyssey ; her maids who
attended her are admonished by Ulysses to retire
with her, and with a delicate reprimand for their
delay —

" To whom the king. Ill suits your sex to stay
Alone with man ! ye modest maids, away !
Go with the Queen, the spindle guide or cull,
(The partners of her cares) the silver wool."

Thus, my dear girl, you have before you some
of the most ancient, illustrious examples to excite
your ambition and imitation. Your mother ac
cuses me of a neglect in her education upon this
head, and I plead guilty to the charge ; I would,
by my advice to you, endeavour to rectify my de
ficiency towards her. I might have added to my
list of worthies, Solomon's virtuous woman, who
seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly
with her hands.

I have long been indebted to you for a letter,
but my finger atone time, and my eye at another,
have prevented my writing — the evening would
be valuable to me for my correspondence if my
eyes would bear me out. Old age with its in.
firmities assail me. I have reason to be thankful
that my senses are so much in action, that my
hearing is not at all impaired, but my memory

LETTERS. 221

and recollection are not what they once were.
My heart is still warm, and my affections fervent
towards my dear children and friends : when they
cease to beat for their welfare and happiness, na
ture itself will expire, and the cold hand of death
close the eyes of your affectionate grandmother,

A. A.

Quincy, Aug. llth, 1811.

MT DEAR CAROLINE !

I do not know how our account stands, whether
I am indebted for a letter or you, but I shall not
be very strict with you ; I am always delighted
with your letters, whether to me or to Susan ;
we talk daily of you. and wish for you, and
when I think how far you all are from me, I am
ready to sit down and weep.

We go on much in the old way here — now and
then a large party, then a few friends. A. A.

Aug. 6th, 1812.

MT DEAR C.

I received your letter this day, written from
Springfield ; this has been a relief to us to hear
that you were well, and that your dear mother
bore her journey so well.

After you left me I felt no restraint upon me,

and could give way to all I felt and all I had

suppressed ; my harp was upon the willow, and my

spirits at a very low ebb ; I have in some meas-

19*

222

LETTERS.

ure recovered them, and follow you daily upon
your journey : when 1 think of my privations, I
am silenced by a recollection of my many bless
ings.

I enclose you a volume from H., and I have
written to your mother so lately, that I have not
a brain prolific enough to entertain you.

I could inform you that our old gardener went
to France in the winter, and did not expect to re
turn soon enough in the spring ; we have another
in his stead, who, like most successors, finds fault
with his predecessor, that this should have been
so, and that, otherwise ; accordingly he must make
alterations — time must prove whether for the
better. The season, although cold, is more for
ward than last year ; the grain failed in all parts
of the state, and there would have been a want
and scarcity with us, if we had no other cause ;
but the blockade of our harbours has cut off the
coasting trade, we cannot get grain but by land
from the south, which renders it very high. Flour
is at 17 dollars a barrel ; this is a calamity which
I hope will not last long if we have a fruitful
season — bread, the staff of life and the chief re
liance of the poor, should be kept low.

Our seventy-fours are building ; our little navy
shows what we should have done if it had not
been impeded in its growth: but to compare
great things with small, — the successor to the
father of the navy, like the gardener, thought

LETTERS. 223

that this was not necessary, and that might be
laid aside, taxes were repealed, lest our revenue
should be so abundant that we should commit
mischief with it. Blindness to the future, I will
not say in this instance, kindly given. Well, you
tell H. she must not write politics ; now it is just
as natural for me to fall upon them as to breathe ;
it distresses me to see so many of my kindred
and acquaintance, whom I love and esteem, going
blindfold, as I think led astray by deceivers, as
cribing views and designs to the government of
which I know them to be innocent.

Come, let me quit this subject. How many
cows do you have upon the farm ? How many
ducks have you raised ? How many chickens ?
We have found them so mischievous, we have
banished them all ; not a solitary hen upon our
territories, or a stately cock rears his head upon
the place.

I was called away last evening before I could
close. In the evening we have a room full some
times to overflowing. We have an agreeable ad
dition in Mr. A.'s family ; since his return from
abroad they have been frequent in their visits to
us. He is the most sensible, intelligent gentle
man of all our society; rational and liberal upon
all political subjects. He has been to Lisbon, and
to Portugal, associated with English and French
officers of army and navy, and returns to his own
country, astonished at the partiality that prevails

224 LETTERS.

in favour of foreign countries, and at the opposi
tion to the government of our own. Well, here
I am again, upon the old topic ; all I can say in
excuse is, that out of the abundance of the heart
the mouth speaketh. I want to see you all.
With love, regard, and esteem, and without com
pliment, I am as ever, yours, A. A.

TO COL. W. S. SMITH, WASHINGTON.

Quincy, October 1st, 1819.
DEAR SIR :

It is already three weeks since you left us ; I
have not any knowledge of your progress farther
than New-Haven, where General Humphreys in
formed me that he had the pleasure of meeting
you.

I wish to hear from you, although I cannot ex
pect that you have anything agreeable of a pub
lic nature to communicate, from the desolate
walls of Washington. I will, however, turn my
face from that forlorn place, and congratulate you
upon the triumphant victory of McDonough, up
on Lake Champlain; and of McCombs at Platts-
burgh, which has brightened the splendour of
our arms, and gathered fresh laurels for our
country. But we must entwine the yew with the
laurel, over the bier of the heroic sons of Colum
bia, whose lives paid the forfeit of their valour.

I wish for information respecting our connec
tions at Washington: from judge Cranch, letters

LETTERS. 225

have been received by his friends here, but I do
not know anything of our other friends, whether
they have been sufferers. Will you be so good as
to inform yourself, and write me word ?

Boston continues to be fortified in every direc
tion, and the numerous troops collected there,
drilled and disciplined seven hours every day.
All apprehension of an attack upon it this year
appears to be dissipated.

I perceive the apple of discord is thrown out in
Congress, and the removal of the seat of govern
ment proposed. A warm opposition no doubt
will ensue, arid the powerful name of the founder
of Washington, will prevail to keep you there.

I should like to hear how you are accommo
dated ; I know you can submit to privations like
an old soldier.

Clouds and darkness hang over us ; ways and
means are one of the most difficult obstacles we
have to contend with ; public credit is shaken,
and the banks trembling. Where the ark of our
safety is to rest, time must unfold. We are all
well. I am. dear sir, affectionately yours,

A. A.

Quincy, September 27th, 1814.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

This morning's post brought me your letter of
the 20th. We were all delighted ; grandfather's
tears watered his cheek when he read the letter;

226 LETTERS.

Susan skipped with all her warmth and ardour,
into every part of the scene.

" In joyous youth, what soul hath never known,
Thoughts, feelings, taste, harmonious to its own."

S. walked her mile and a half to communicate
the grateful tidings ; every heart and eye parti
cipated with you.

I shall not say anything about the wonders of
the world, for this reason, I know not what to
say ; yet I cannot help feeling pity, or commis
eration for Buonaparte ; to what part of the world
can he flee? Some say America! I do not want
him here, although I think he would be quite
harmless, deprived as he is, of all power, author
ity, and means.

By the help of one night's refreshing sleep, I
am enabled to write to you this morning, know
ing not what the morrow may bring forth. Four
score and ten is an age, when we can neither ex
pect health, or much strength, when our strength
is weakness. I cannot say that I have no pleas
ure in my days ; I have abundant in this, my sick
ness. I have had kind, attentive friends, a skil
ful physician, and every human aid : is there not
pleasure in all this? and unto the Great First
Cause be the praise.

Dear, tempting child, how pleased I should be
to make you the visit you so pathetically urge ;
but would it not be too hazardous for your grand
father, at his age, to undertake ? True, we en-

LETTERS. 227

joy as much health, and as good spirits as can be
expected, and more than we had reason to look
for, considering the many scenes we have passed
through ; but we must finish our course in our
own habitation, and not venture beyond a day's
journey. I might be hazardous enough to run
the risk, but I would not have your grandfather,
who yet may outlive me, though so many years
older. So, dear girl, we thank you for your in
vitation, and feel at our hearts, the value of it,
but must content ourselves with the hope, if we
live, of seeing you and yours the next spring.

I have lately been reading Lady Morgan's
France ; she is entertaining, and gives us many
pleasant anecdotes. I do not like her affectation of
new words ; the reviewers may properly attack
them — she is, however, an interesting traveller
to me, although no favourite with the English.

To rise with dignity, and fall with ease, is a
very desirable qualification ; but such is the frail
ty of human nature; adversity is better calculated
to call forth the virtues, than prosperity, which
puffeth up, and is unseemly.

I have not yet thanked you for your letter from
New-York. I entered into all your feelings so
simply and pathetically described, while wander
ing through scenes which awakened recollections
to "joys that were past, never to return."

How much does the heart pant for the renewal
of those affections, which once so cordially greet-

228 LETTERS.

ed an absent friend, when visiting the same spot ;
the unbidden tear starts, and memory sighs, all, all
is changed — a new set " come tittering on, and
push us off the stage."

But while this heart beats, and this hand hath
warmth, and reason retains its seat, my dear Car
oline will be joyfully received and welcomed by
her affectionate grandmother, A. A.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Quincy, Oct. 23d, 1814.

MT EVER DEAR CAROLINE :

If you find as many joyful faces to receive you,
as you have left sorrowful hearts behind you, you
will have no reason to complain. When upon
former occasions you have been separated from
me, it was always with the expectation of having
you again with me ; since I have considered you
as mine, you have been to me one of the chief
props and supports of my declining years. By
your watchful attention, and cheerful readiness
to prevent even my wants, you have rendered
yourself so necessary to me, as to be the solace of
my days. It is natural to feel a privation in pro
portion to our enjoyments; what then, think you,
is the void left in my breast ? True, I have other
comforts in the faithful and constant attention of
Louisa, and the sprightly vivacity of Susan.

Your letter to my venerable friend, Mrs. War
ren, was received by me and forwarded to her.

LETTERS.

229

" Tell my dear Mrs. Adams to write to me, or to
see me very soon, else we only meet in Heaven,"
was one of the last expressions of your departed
friend, my ever to be respected mother. Thus
writes her son to me upon the 19th : " Upon the
18th the imprisoned spirit ascended from the de
cayed and ancient fabric. She had but a few days
of suffering."

I may with truth say, that take her all in all,
we shall not look upon her like again. String
after string is severed from the heart ; the lamp
of life burnt bright to the last. Dr. Freeman told
me she wrote him a letter upon the 6th of the
present month, when she entered her 87th year.
I rejoice that you visited her ; your remembrance
of her will always be pleasant. Seldom does old
age wear so pleasing, so instructive an aspect.
To me she was a friend of more than fifty sum
mers ripening.

Yesterday completed half a century since I en
tered the married state, then just your age. I have
great cause of thankfulness that I have lived so
long, and enjoyed so large a portion of happiness
as has been my lot. The greatest source of un-
happiness I have known in that period, has arisen
from the long and cruel separations which I was
called in a time of war, and with a young family
around me, to submit to.

My pen runs on, " but," as the gallant Adam
20

230 LETTERS.

said to Eve, "with thee conversing I forget all
time."

That you and the rest of my posterity may en
joy as large a share of felicity as has fallen to me,
is the sincere wish and prayer of your affection
ate grandmother, A. A.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Quincy, Feb. 19th, 1815.

Bad as my eyes are, I cannot refrain from wri
ting a few lines to dear Caroline, and thanking
her for her last welcome letter, and congratula
ting her upon the restoration of peace to our be
loved country, an event, although earnestly de
sired, unexpected as to the time.

May we receive it as a moral and religious
people, and ascribe praise to that Being who ru-
leth among the inhabitants of the earth, who ma-
keth our enemies to be at peace with us, and who
hath recently given such success to our arms, as
is wondrous in our eyes. History does not fur
nish a parallel to the victory at New-Orleans ; I
mean as it respects the difference of numbers
slain. If it were not from the mouth of many
witnesses I should have discredited it, until it was
sanctioned by the official letter of General Jack
son.

The loss of our frigate the President, I lament
as a sacrifice of lives, but not of national honour.
To surrender to such a superior force, after en-

LETTERS. 231

gaging and silencing a frigate of equal force, and
three to one, withers no laurels on the brow of
Decatur. Not a single ship-of-war belonging to
us, but has gathered fame and renown for our
country. Our armies too were becoming formi
dable ; our forces for the last eighteen months
have restored the honour, and retrieved the repu
tation so much injured at the commencement of
the war ; and the late glorious victory at New-
Orleans, closes the war with a lustre upon the
American arms which time will not efface.

And what with her thousand ships, and tens of
thousand troops, has Great Britain to boast of?
Will the destruction, not of the city, but of the
public buildings of an infant city, unfortified, and
almost unarmed, emblazon her prowess, or trans
mit her valour to posterity ? No ! elated as was
the Prince Regent, exulting in his shame, he gave
orders to have the mighty deed translated into all
the foreign languages of Europe, and sent to their
different courts, and how was it received? With
disgust, with abhorrence ! so that when their am
bassador in France, Lord Wellington, made a
grand fete, and gave a ball in celebration of the
event, not a single foreign minister accepted the
invitation.

That the successful invasion of that city will
be an indelible stain upon the administration, I
must admit ; but still the Gothic barbarism of the
British administration, which could direct and

232 LETTERS.

sanction such a deed, will go down to future ages
with shame and disgrace.

I think you are right to take every opportunity
of seeing and becoming acquainted with your own
country. Although we are yet in the infancy of
improvement, as it respects the fine arts, when
compared with ancient countries ; yet there is
not one which history presents, where religion
and government are so happily combined to pro
mote the happiness and prosperity of the people,
where liberty and independence were so well un
derstood, and amply enjoyed. We all send an
abundance of love to you, and yours. From your
affectionate, A. A.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Boston, June 5th, 1816.

After a year's absence I came yesterday to make
a visit to my friends for three days. Our anxiety
to hear from you, led me to send to the office this
morning for letters; there I found yours of May
3 1st, containing tidings that my fears had antici
pated, as you will find when you receive my last
letter.

My dear child, you will be again called to se
vere and afflictive scenes ; may you be prepared,
sustained, and supported through them, by that
Almighty Power, which calls you to the trial ; I
feel the stroke as a renewal of what I have passed
through, and as an anticipation of what I may be

LETTERS.

233

called to endure, yet a little while, and I also shall
join the great congregation.

If your father should survive for you to see
him, and receive this letter from me, before he
departs, give my kindest love to him, and say to
him, [ hope to meet him and my dear daughter, in
the world to which we are hastening. I can add
no more, my heart is full ; ever your affectionate
grandmother, A. A.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Quincy, June 21st, 1816.

It was with a heavy heart and trembling hand,
that I yesterday broke the seal of your letter to
your uncle. 1 knew that he was gone to Boston,
and as I had not any letter myself, I could not
wait in such suspense ; the contents of the letter
has left me little expectation of hearing that the
lamp of life is not nearly extinguished.

I had written thus far, when Louisa brought
me the paper, with the notice of your dear father's
departure on the 10th.

Have I lived to this day, to mourn with my
dear child the loss of both parents ? little did I
think the last winter, that I should have been the
survivor ; I weep with you, and pray you may
be supported by that Almighty Power, who has
called you to this trial.

I have not expected you to write to me, dis
tressed as you must have been. How much we
20*

234 LETTERS.

have all wished we could have been near you, to
have alleviated some of your sorrows, by sharing
them with you. Thus my dear children, you
have all honoured your father and your mother ;
may you all inherit that blessing which is prom
ised to those who keep that commandment. Mer
cies are mingled in your cup. My heart is too
full to write. I am, dear child, your affectionate
grandmother, A. A.

Quincy, January 29th, 1818.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

As Dean Swift says, " eyes with writing almost
blind," I commence a letter to you, near ten
o'clock at night, after having written seven letters
to go abroad by the Milo.

I have been wishing to write to you all the
week, but last Friday, in a snow storm, who
should corne to make me a visit, but Mrs. Gushing,
who is always a welcome guest ; she stayed until
Tuesday ; I could not leave her to write.

We find so little here to interest us beyond our
domestic concerns, that few subjects arise to ruffle
the calm, which so tranquilly surrounds us.

The only one which creates a public sensation,
is the battle of Bunker Hill, as lately published by
General Dearborn, in which he has attacked the
military character of General Putnam. This has
roused the indignation of the son of the General,
and he replies with no small share of severity, ai

LETTERS. 235

the same time with a filial respect, love, and ven
eration, which cannot fail to interest every reader.
He has written a letter to your grandfather, as to
one of the oldest survivors of the revolution, res
pectfully requesting him to inform him, if he had
known, or ever heard, in Congress, or out of it,
any dissatisfaction with the conduct of General
Putnam, upon the memorable 17th of June, 1775 ?
He wishes for the information, whether it may
tend either to honour or dishonour.

" I desire no favour or concealment, for how
ever alive 1 may feel to a sense of injury, prompted
by envy and selfishness ; truth, from a source so
respectable and impartial as that of President
Adams, will be always held in the same reverence
and treated with the same respect, whether it bears
the marks of censure or condemnation."

" His honest fame is the most precious inheri
tance he left his family ; and having been his con
stant attendant from the commencement of the
revolution to the last moment of his life, I will
defend it, if need be, at the expense of every other
earthly hope."

Such a high sense of filial affection and duty,
with such honourable feelings, so pathetically ex
pressed, drew tears from my eyes when I read the
letter, to which I can by no means do justice with
out the whole.

Mr. Holly is going to Washington, and from
thence to Kentucky, where he is invited to be

236 LETTERS.

President of a College. He prefers to go and see
the country and the people, before he gives an
answer ; to this purpose, he has obtained leave of
absence for three months, and proposes to visit the
great and the gay scenes at Washington, to visit Mr.
Madison and Mr. Jefferson. Last Monday, he and
Mrs. H. came and passed the day with us. He is a
very pleasant companion ; one need be only a
hearer ; he has a mind vivid, active, inquisitive,
ardent, comprehensive ; shall I say profound ? He
is only 35 years of age ; can a man be profound at
that age ? He says he will not print even a ser
mon until after 40. He certainly belongs to the
family of the Searches ; he is very eloquent, a
fine person, as you know.

And now dear Caroline, if 1 could have flour
ished over my paper as you do, I should have cov
ered three sides, but I had rather have a little than
none at all. Let me hear from you, it lessens the
distance that separates us. Adieu, dear girl ; kiss
the babes for me, and believe me in cold weather
and warm, in all seasons and times, your affec
tionate grandmother, A. A.

Quincy, March 22d, 1818.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

" Delightful praise, like summer rose,
That brighter in the dew-drop glows."

They were sweet drops which flowed from the
heart to the eyes both of your grandfather and
grandmother, when I read to him the two letters

LETTERS. 237

you had transcribed to your uncle and to your
father, in commendation of your brother. You
could not have offered a sweeter incense to your
grandfather ; and flowing from the pen of an old
friend of your father's, it carried the marks of sin
cerity, without the alloy of adulation, and merits
a grateful return. " A good name is better than
precious ointment ; it is the immediate jewel of
the soul."

The freshet which carried away the bridges,
and made such havoc with the roads, together
with the robbery of the mail, has prevented our
regular communication, and 1 suspect I have lost
a journal ; I enclose you the only one you have
not seen.

I hear that Duane has got hold of my letter to
Niles, and spits forth vulgar abuse at me and the
Secretary of State, who had not any more to do
with the subject than the Emperor of China. He
has revealed who the person was, who sent the
ungentlemanly refusal to dine ; how he knew, I
cannot divine — he abuses him also ; but the low
sarcasms of these people affect me no more at this
day than the idle wind.

I have not seen, only heard of the laudable ef
forts of those foreigners, who will foment a party
spirit if they can. They wish to engage us in a
war with Spain ; and finding our growth rapid,
and our national strength increasing in propor
tion, more than one European power would re-

238 LETTERS.

joice to find us embroiled with any power which
could retard our progress ; they know the admin
istration is averse to war, they think to abuse it
with impunity.

I was much gratified to see the overpowering
vote of the house to reject the Spanish petition ;
an unprecedented attempt in any country, to ap
peal from the sovereign to the Parliament. Ge
net appealed to the people at large, which he found
abortive.

The Boston subscription for the bust soon filled,
although no person was allowed to subscribe more
than two dollars; a very respectable committee
was sent, with a short and handsome address upon
the occasion, and on Thursday the artist came.
He takes the bust first in clay ; he has been a part
of three days engaged upon it ; he does not re
quire any formal sitting ; he works with much
ease ; his name Binon. a Frenchman by birth,
with all the vivacity of his nation ; quite a gen
tleman, and well acquainted with books; he has
passed twelve years in Italy ; he will have an ad
mirable likeness.

I have never before heard of Cox's Female Bi
ography ; I should like to read it. Many of the
female characters in Scripture, both of the Old and
New Testament, do great honour to the sex. It
is a pleasing and grateful circumstance, to read
in the life and character of our Saviour, the af
fection and tenderness which he manifests to wo-

LETTERS. 239

men — to Mary, to Martha, to the widow of Sa
maria, and many others.

It grows too dark to see or write ; so with love
to you and yours, I am your affectionate

A. A.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Montezillo, Jan. 1, 1820.

MY DEAR CAROLINE :

I wish you a happy New-year, and as many new
years as your nature can bear, in health, peace,
and competence, with your children like olive-
plants about your table.

But be sure to make them all, male and female,
children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren,
work hard with their own hands, so as to be able
to command their own livelihood, by their indus
try, economy, and sagacity.

I am very glad to find that you are in corres
pondence with my friend Vanderkemp. This
correspondence will amuse you, and if you are
not very learned, will instruct you. But even he
does not know every thing ; he was ignorant un
til a few days ago, that inoculation for the small
pox was first introduced into the British empire
in the town of Boston. By this time he knows
that Dr. Zabaliel Boyleston, a younger brother of
my grandfather, Peter Boyleston of Brookline, in
oculated his own children in 1720, one hundred
years ago, and after that inoculated his negroes

240 LETTERS.

at their express desire, and carried his own family
safe through the distemper. His success in his
own house, encouraged others in his neighbour
hood to run the risk. He inoculated all who
would submit to the operation. The fame of his
success in the town of Boston spread to England,
and produced an invitation to him to embark for
that country, to inoculate the royal family. He
did embark, but before he arrived, the royal child
ren had acquired courage enough to trust their
own surgeons.

Our collegians are gone to Washington ; they
must necessarily spend a winter of dissipation —
but they are all so smitten with the charms of lit
erature, that I hope they will continue faithful
and true.

We are all in good health here, eighteen in
number. I am, as ever, your affectionate grand
father, JOHN ADAMS.

P. S. Since I have written the above, I have
picked up a good story.

Of two noblemen in the neighbouring countries,
one had a son, the other a daughter ; the son fell
in love with the daughter, and solicited her fath-
ers's consent, that he should pay his addresses to
her. Her father asked him " how will you main
tain her?" He answered "according to her rank."
"Rank! what rank have you, or has she?" He
answered " the rank of her father." " What have

LETTERS. 241

children to do with the rank, or fortunes of their
parents ? rank and fortune in reversion are nei
ther rank or fortune. Have you any profession,
occupation, trade, office, or employment, by which
you can get your own living?" " No, my lord,
I have none." " Then you shall never have my
daughter ; I will never give my daughter to any
one who cannot maintain himself and her too."
u Very well, my lord, have patience with me ; I
will endeavour to show your lordship that I can
maintain myself and your daughter."

A basket maker in the neighbourhood was ma
king great profits by the manufacture of curious
baskets, which he sold for their elegance and
taste, for a very great price. To this man the
young lord went, and gave him sufficient reward
to teach him the art ; in which he made so great
a proficiency, that in one year, he became a more
exquisite workman than his master or his appren
tices. He immediately carried some of his own
handy-work to the old nobleman. " Here, my
lord, I am now an independent man ; with these
productions, with my own hands, I can maintain
myself and your daughter in a manner that will
make us both perfectly happy, without any aid
from either of our parents." " Then if you have,
or can obtain her affections, she shall be yours."

JOHN ADAMS.

21

242 LETTERS.

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Montezillo, January 24th, 1820.

MY DEAR GRANDAUGHTER I

This year completes a century since my Un
cle Boylston introduced the practic of inoculation
into the English dominions ; but what improve
ments have been made, since 1720, partly by ex
perience, but much more by the discovery of Dr.
Jenner ? The history of this distemper is enough
to humble human pride ! enough to demonstrate
what ignorant puppets we are ! how we grope in
the dark ! and what empty phantoms we pursue !

You are not singular in your suspicions that
you know but little. The longer I live, the more
I read, the more patiently I think; and the more
anxiously I inquire, the less I seem to know.

Why should the " Vaccine " have been conceal
ed from all eternity, and then instantaneously re
vealed ? Why should the material world have
slept in nonentity from eternity, and then created
or awakened into existence ?

Worm ! ask no such questions ! do justly, love
mercy, walk humbly. This is enough for you to
know, and to do. The world is a better one than
you deserve ; strive to make yourself more wor
thy of it.

So questions, and so answers your affectionate
grandfather,

JOHN ADAMS.

LETTERS. 243

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Oldenbarneveld, February 25th, 1820.

MY DEAR AND RESPECTED MADAM !

I mast acknowledge that some time ago, I fos
tered the expectation of being gratified with a few
lines from your hand, and although I was disap
pointed, yet could not persuade myself that I was
forgotten.

Your cousin's supposed departure, the concerns
of a numerous family. Is it not strange that J
was not struck with the possibility of sickness and
trouble, which might have prevented it, or should
these confine themselves to old age, while silent
ly they undermine the tottering frame? At least,
I did not think upon it, and yet it was the case,
and I trust that fully recovered, and hurried up in
the capital, your frame shall be strengthened in
the spring.

My contentment at Cedar Grove, my dear Car
oline, was so perfect, my enjoyments so exquisite,
that I do not only recollect these often, but grati
fy myself in renewing these communications to
my family and friends. I was indeed happy dur
ing those three days, and was it in my power, I
would strive to renew it ; but at my age, in my
situation, the prospect towards it is not bright, al
though even this is not a cause to mourn. We
ought rather to be thankful for every share of bliss
with which we are favoured.

244 LETTERS.

You know me too well, to doubt for a single
moment, if a copy of John Adams's letter would
gratify me ; but who is that lady so accomplished
as to captivate a nearly nonaganarian, and place
him in such an ecstacy? But I do not envy the
happiness of my so highly respected and beloved
friend ; his last days are his best days, and the
blessings of his contemporaries, and posterity must
be a delightful repast for his children and grand
children.

Remember me with kindness to Mr. de Windt;
this shall strengthen the impression, if any good
one was made in rny favour, by my visit, and
obliterate the less favourable. Mr. Lawsori's cour
tesy cannot be forgotten by me, which received a
higher value, from his modesty and frankness.
He is the third British soldier with whom I be
came acquainted, and how should I be pleased
might I see the trio under my humble roof.
Should Lawson dare try the adventure he will be
cordially received by an old brother soldier.

Believe me, my dear Caroline, that the remem
brance of Mrs. Adams's virtues and accomplish
ments, must be first erased from my heart, before
seeing you pressing her steps, I can ever cease
to be, dear and respected madam, your affectionate

and obliged friend,

FRANCIS ADRIAN VANDERKEMP.

LETTERS. 245

TO MRS. DE WINDT.

Montezillo, July 12th, 1820.

MT DEAR CAROLINE !

You have Harriet with you, and consequently
we are deprived of the weekly information she
used to give us of your health and welfare ; but
now we very rarely get any, either from yourself
or her ; pray write to me now and then at least,
to let me know that you, and Mr. de Windt, and
the little prattlers, are all well ; by no means for
getting ths venerable mother.

I was not able to accept the condescending in
vitation of the government of the state, and the
various societies in Boston, to celebrate the 4th of
July ; though my head would have struck the
stars, if I could have made so glorious a figure,
as my ancient, excellent friend Carroll, made at
Baltimore on that day. But the heat of the season,
with the pomps and ceremonies, could not have
been supported with my feeble frame.

I should have been delighted to have heard
my friend Mr. Lyman, who, I am informed, pro
nounced an elegant and masterly oration. Pray
tell Miss Welsh, that this same friend of ours, Mr.
Lyman, has sent me a rich and costly entertain
ment, which I am constantly devouring with as
keen an appetite and relish, as I ever felt in my
youthful or riper days. The life of the Earl of
Chatham, in three volumes ; Hude's Journey over
land from Hindostan to England : Chalmer's Life
21*

246

LETTERS.

of Mary Queen of Scots, in two volumes ; many
of Scott's novels. And in general I think this
writer has well merited his knighthood, and a
much higher order of nobility ; for his writings
have a tendency to inform and reform mankind,
for no man can read them, without disgust at the
horrid crimes, miseries, and violences, arising
from the superstition, fanaticism, and hypocrisy,
which have prevailed so scandalously in all the
ages of which he writes. I have reserved for the
last the life of Lady Russell. This I have not
yet read, because I read it more than forty years
ago. On this hangs a tale which you ought to
know and communicate to your children. I
bought the life and letters of Lady Russell, in the
year 1775, an.d sent it to your grandmother, with
an express intent and desire, that she should con
sider it a mirror in which to contemplate herself;
for at that time I thought it extremely probable,
from the daring and dangerous career I was deter
mined to run, that she would one day find herself
in the situation of Lady Russell, her husband
without a head. This Lady was more beautiful
than Lady Russell, had a brighter genius, more
information, a more refined taste, and at least her
equal in the virtues of the heart ; equal fortitude
and firmness of character, equal resignation to the
will of Heaven, equal in all the virtues and graces
of the Christian life. Like Lady Russell, she never
by word or look discouraged me from running all

LETTERS. 247

hazards for the salvation of my country's liberties;
she was willing to share with me, and that her
children should share with us both, in all the dan
gerous consequences we had to hazard. My love
to Mr. de Windt and to the dear little ones. My
affectionate respects to the lady mother ; love to
Harriet. Your affectionate grandfather,

JOHN ADAMS.

THE END.

ERRA.TA.. — Page 33, 20th line from top, for Molire'e, read Molicre. Page
202, 18th line, insert am. Page 203, 20th line, for Thaler, read Thaxter.

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