Bridget Hawkins Roper-Curzon to Martha Jefferson (Randolph)

My dear Friend

I received your letter yesterday & tho’ I have very little time tonight I would not omit answering it for the world, least you should have a pretext for not sending me your address in Virginia, & thereby lay me under the necessity of putting a period to our correspondance; before I thank you for the friendship you so kindly express, I will tell you a piece of news, which I think will afford you great pleasure viz: Anneseley is married to a Mr Maxwell, oldest son of the Bishop of Meath. we may conclude her sentiments on an important point are changed, or this marriage cou’d never have taken place. I can assure you it is a very mistaken notion that you have adopted, [. . .] concerning Beckers &etc, I think she is very handsome, but as my private opinion may not solve your doubts on the subject, I beg leave to mention that of our beaux who universally admire her—talking of beauty, I must introduce my little darling, who is a remarkable handsome child, his eyes are large & of a very dark Blue, the rest of his face is as like his mother’s as possible, his name Henry. I must beg you will mention every trivial occurrence when you arrive in America & never send me a letter less than four or six pages, likewise tell me how you were received etc. I am assured by all my friends here, that I am making a ridiculous request; & that you will be too much occupied on your arrival to think of poor Toquim—that in a short space of time you will take unto yourself a help mate, which will likewise efface the distant idea you will then retain of me—not withstanding I cannot deny their arguments to be very plausible, yet I cannot injure my friend so much as ever to admit for a moment the idea of her forgetting me; a few [. . .] months will show who is right & who was wrong. London has lost one of its greatest ornaments, viz: the Opera House which was totally consumed by fire last week, the Managers will be considerable loosers—no one doubts of its being a malicious transaction. Broadhead is a going to be married to a Mr Dashwood, a most amiable young man, heir to a title & ten thousand a year, I fear you may accuse him of the same fault, for which you so unmercifully blame poor Sophie—Give my love to Polly—Adieu my Dear the care of my child &c. the fatigue of company & etc engross the chief part of my time, nevertheless, I can always snatch a few minutes from time to time to write to you, which believe me is one of my greatest pleasures, once more Farewell—

Love & remember Your
B. Carson
Tr (ViU: ER); dateline at foot of text; in an unidentified hand; with possible transcription errors.

It was not last week, but the evening of 17 June 1789, when the Opera House caught fire during rehearsals and burnt to the ground (Gentleman’s Magazine [1789], 755–6).

Bridget Hawkins Roper-Curzon
Date Range
July 2, 1789