Memoirs Of Aaron Burr, Volume 1, Matthew L. Davis [book club suggestions .txt] 📗
- Author: Matthew L. Davis
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Do Not Recollect Me."
"I Do Not, Madam," Was The Reply.
Chapter XII Pg 172"It Is Miss K., Sir."
"What!" Said He, "Miss K. _Yet_!"
The Lady, Somewhat Piqued, Reiterated, "Yes, Sir, Miss K. _Yet_!"
Feeling The Delicacy Of His Situation, And The Unfortunate Error He
Had Committed, He Gently Took Her Hand, And Emphatically Remarked,
"Well, Madam, Then I Venture To Assert _That It Is Not The Fault Of My
Sex_."
On Burr'S Being Appointed, In 1777, A Lieutenant-Colonel In The Army,
He Joined His Regiment, Then Stationed At Ramapoa, In New-Jersey. At
Paramus, Not Far Distant, Resided Mrs. Prevost, The Wife Of Colonel
Prevost, Of The British Army. She Was An Accomplished And Intelligent
Lady. Her Husband Was With His Regiment In The West Indies, Where He
Died Early In The Revolutionary War. She Had A Sister Residing With
Her. It Was Her Son, The Hon. John B. Prevost, Who In 1802 Was
Recorder Of The City Of New-York, And Subsequently District Judge Of
The United States Court For The District Of Louisiana. The House Of
Mrs. Prevost Was The Resort Of The Most Accomplished Officers In The
American Army When They Were In The Vicinity Of It. She Was Highly
Respected By Her Neighbours, And Visited By The Most Genteel People Of
The Surrounding Country. Her Situation Was One Of Great Delicacy And
Constant Apprehension.
The Wife Of A British Officer, And Connected With The Adherents Of The
Crown, Naturally Became An Object Of Political Suspicion,
Notwithstanding Great Circumspection On Her Part. Under Such
Circumstances, A Strong Sympathy Was Excited In Her Behalf. Yet There
Were Those Among The Whigs Who Were Inclined To Enforce The Laws Of
The State Against Her, Whereby She Would Be Compelled To Withdraw
Within The Lines Of The Enemy. In This Family Colonel Burr Became
Intimate In 1777, And In 1782 Married The Widow Prevost.
Chapter XII (James Monroe To Mrs. Prevost) Pg 173Philadelphia, November 8Th, 1778.
A Young Lady Who Either Is, Or Pretends To Be, In Love, Is, You Know,
My Dear Mrs. Prevost, The Most Unreasonable Creature In Existence. If
She Looks A Smile Or A Frown, Which Does Not Immediately Give Or
Deprive You Of Happiness (At Least To Appearance), Your Company Soon
Becomes Very Insipid. Each Feature Has Its Beauty, And Each Attitude
The Graces, Or You Have No Judgment.
But If You Are So Stupidly
Insensible Of Her Charms As To Deprive Your Tongue And Eyes Of Every
Expression Of Admiration, And Not Only To Be Silent Respecting Her,
But Devote Them To An Absent Object, She Cannot Receive A Higher
Insult; Nor Would She, If Not Restrained By Politeness, Refrain From
Open Resentment.
Upon This Principle I Think I Stand Excused For Not Writing From B.
Ridge. I Proposed It, However; And, After Meeting With Opposition In
-----, To Obtain Her Point, She Promised To Visit The Little
"Hermitage," [2] And Make My Excuse Herself. I Took Occasion To Turn
The Conversation To A Different Object, And Plead For Permission To Go
To France. I Gave Up In One Instance, And She Certainly Ought In The
Other. But Writing A Letter And Going To France Are Very Different,
You Will Perhaps Say. She Objected To It, And All The Arguments Which
A Fond, Delicate, Unmarried Lady Could Use, She Did Not Fail To
Produce Against It. I Plead The Advantage I Should Derive From It. The
Personal Improvement, The Connexions I Should Make. I Told Her She Was
Not The Only One On Whom Fortune Did Not Smile In Every Instance. I
Produced Examples From Her Own Acquaintance, And Represented Their
Situation In Terms Which Sensibly Affected Both Herself And Lady
C----. I Painted A Lady Full Of Affection, Of Tenderness, And
Sensibility, Separated From Her Husband, For A Series Of Time, By The
Cruelty Of The War--Her Uncertainty Respecting His Health; The Pain
And Anxiety Which Must Naturally Arise From It. I Represented, In The
Most Pathetic Terms, The Disquietudes Which, From The Nature Of Her
Connexion, Might Possibly Intrude On Her Domestic Retreat. I Then
Raised To Her View Fortitude Under Distress; Cheerfullness, Life, And
Gayety, In The Midst Of Affliction.
I Hope You Will Forgive Me, My Dear Little Friend, If I Produced You
To Give Life To The Image. The Instance, She Owned, Was Applicable.
She Felt For You From Her Heart, And She Has A Heart Capable Of
Feeling. She Wished Not A Misfortune Similar To Yours; But, If I Was
Resolved To Make It So, She Would Strive To Imitate Your Example. I
Have Now Permission To Go Where I Please, But You Must Not Forget Her.
She And Lady C---- Promise To Come To The Hermitage To Spend A Week Or
Two. Encourage Her, And Represent The Advantage I Shall Gain From
Travel. But Why Should I Desire You To Do What I Know Your Own Heart
Will Dictate? For A Heart So Capable Of Friendship Feels Its Own Pain
Alleviated By Alleviating That Of Another.
But Do Not Suppose That My Attention Is Only Taken Up With My Own
Affairs. I Am Too Much Attached Ever To Forget The Hermitage. Mrs.
Duvall, I Hope, Is Recovering; And Kitty'S Indisposition Is That Of My
Nearest Relation. Mrs. De Visme Has Delicate Nerves. Tell Me Her
Children Are Well, And I Know She Has A Flow Of Spirits, For Her
Health Depends Entirely On Theirs.
I Was Unfortunate In Not Being Able To Meet With The Governor. He Was
Neither At Elizabethtown, B. Ridge, Princeton, Nor Trenton.
I Have
Consulted With Several Members Of Congress On The Occasion. They Own
The Injustice, But Cannot Interfere. The Laws Of Each State Must
Govern Itself. They Cannot Conceive The Possibility Of Its Taking
Place. General Lee Says It Must Not Take Place; And If He Was An
Absolute Monarch, He Would Issue An Order To Prevent It.
I Am Introduced To The Gentleman I Wished By General Lee In A Very
Particular Manner. I Cannot Determine With Certainty What I Shall Do
Till My Arrival In Virginia.
Make My Compliments To Mrs. And Miss De Visme, And Believe Me, With
The Sincerest Friendship,
Yours,
James Monroe
Chapter XII Pg 174Mr. Peter De Visme, The Brother Of Mrs. Prevost, Was Captured At Sea,
And Made Prisoner Of War. As She Was Personally Acquainted With
General Washington, She Solicited His Influence To Promote His
Exchange, To Which The General Replied:--
Headquarters, Middlebrook, 19Th May, 1779.
Madam,
It Is Much To Be Regretted That The Pleasure Of Obeying The First
Emotions In Favour Of Misfortune Is Not Always In Our Power. I Should
Be Happy Could I Consider Myself At Liberty To Comply With Your
Request In The Case Of Your Brother, Mr. Peter De Visme. But, As I
Have Heretofore Taken No Direction In The Disposal Of Marine
Prisoners, I Cannot, With Propriety, Interfere On The Present
Occasion, However Great The Satisfaction I Should Feel In Obliging
Where You Are Interested. Your Good Sense Will Perceive This, And Find
A Sufficient Excuse In The Delicacy Of My Situation.
I Have The Honour To Be, Madam,
Your Obedient Servant,
George Washington.
Chapter XII Pg 175From William Patterson.
Morristown, 29Th September, 1779.
Dear Burr,
About Four Weeks Ago I Received A Letter From You Of The 8Th Of
August, And, A Week After, Another Of The 23D. They Came By The Way Of
Moorestown, From Which To Rariton, Where I Reside. The Conveyance Is
Easy And Safe. I Cannot Point Out Any Mode Of Sending Your Letters
Better Than That Which You Have Adopted.
I Was Pleased Extremely To Hear From You, And, Indeed, Was Quite
Disappointed In Not Hearing From You Sooner. I Was For A Time In
Expectation That You Would Return Into Jersey, As The Scene Of
Military Operations Was Directed To Your Part Of The World, And Would
Unavoidably Drive You From Your Study And Repose. Military Operations
Are So Fluctuating And Uncertain As To Render It Exceedingly Difficult
To Fix Upon A Retreat Which May Not Be Broken In Upon In The Course Of
A Campaign. New-Haven Bid Fair To Be The Seat Of Calmness And
Serenity, Of Course Well Suited For A Studious And Contemplative Mind,
And Therefore Made Choice Of As The Place Of Your Abode. New-Haven,
However, Partook Of The Common Calamity; And, In The Evolution Of
Human Events, From A Place Of Safety And Repose, Was Turned Into A
Place Of Confusion And War.
You Are Not Contented, My Dear Burr, And Why Are You Not? You Sigh For
New-Jersey, And Why Do You Not Return? It Is True We Are Continually
Broken In Upon By The Sons Of Tumult And War. Our Situation Is Such
That The One Army Or The Other Is Almost Constantly With Us, And Yet
We Rub Along With Tolerable Order, Spirit, And Content. Oh! That The
Days Of Peace Would Once More Return, That We Might Follow What
Business, Partake Of What Amusements, And Think And Live As We Please.
As To Myself, I Am, My Dear Burr, One Of The Happiest Of Men. The
Office I Hold Calls Me Too Frequently, And Detains Me Too Long, From
Home, Otherwise I Should Enjoy Happiness As Full And High As This
World Can Afford. It Is, As You Express It, "Serene, Rural, And
Sentimental;" And Such, One Day, You Will _Feel_.
"You See No Company--You Partake Of No Amusements--You Are Always
Grave." Such, Too, Has Been The Life That I Have Lived For Months And
Years. I Cannot Say That It Is An Unpleasing One. I Avoided Company;
Indeed, I Do So Still, Unless It Be The Company Of Chosen Friends. I
Have Been Ever Fond Of My Fireside And Study--Ever Fond Of Calling Up
Some Absent Friend, And Of Living Over, In Idea, Past Times
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