Nicholas P. Trist to Virginia J. Randolph (Trist)
La-fourche January 28th 1823— |
Having written to Ellen not longer back than the 26th, I should have deferred writing to you a few days longer, if business did not call me this afternoon down the bayou; from whence I do not expect to return until saturday.—The papers by yesterday’s mail arrived in such a soaked and mutilated state, that I fear the cause of my disappointment in getting a letter from my beloved Virginia, is that it has been rubbed to pieces.—the bare suspicion makes me feel strongly disposed in the might of my strength, to twist off the necks of every contractor on the route. I trust however it will turn out to be a mere suspicion; and that there will be one here awaiting my return.—After a long, relaxing, rainy spell which made me feel miserably, the sky is again clear, and the wind bracing: even rather Keen; so as to make my plaid necessary to comfort. The ride will no doubt fatigue, but will also benefit me a good deal; especially, as it will not be solitary, but with Browse for my companion.—I am beginning to have better hopes of the action of this climate on his constitution. his skin was never to my recollection, so smooth & clear; which is a certain indication of good health, especially when accompanied by a good appetite, and healthy tone of stomach—God grant he may weather it bravely, until he thinks himself “independent” enough to come and live with us, as he promises to do. He deserves every feeling of esteem & respect, which unshaka unshakeable principle, an even temper, and a fine mind (to you I will say an extraordinary one; for it certainly differs much from that of every young man I am ever was acquainted with.) can inspire for their possessor.[. . .] —Last night, I dipped a little deeper into the “New England-Man.” his work is a genuine production of the New-York school; “not intended for publication,” little talent, and no simplicity, which I learn more & more every day, is an indispensable characteristic of greatness in the arts as well as in manners.—our Yankee, besides some yankee notions which burst forth now and then, is “toujours à cheval sur l’esprit”; & the natural consequence follows: his poor hack, instead of the prance and neigh of a true steed has the jog and moan of a certain horse that had once1 the honor of serving as palfrey to my Lady Love. The publication, as I believe I before observed to you, will I think have one good effect however, if it does not raise our literary reputation. It will show the liberal part of the nation, (the only portion whose good opinion, or good will, we ought to care a fig for) how easy it is to present a people in the most odious and contemptible light, without even putting into requisition the falsehood which their tourists have made so lavish a use of against us.—whatever may be said on the subject, by our outré patriots, I cannot believe that the noble stock from which we have inherited all our devotion to Liberty & independence, can have degenerated so much as that none of them are worth conciliating. It is not so long since Chatham & Temple & Cambden & Churchill lived.—But I am summoned to dinner, after which I must mount my horse. Adieu then, ever dear Virginia; accept every thing that is warm, & affectionate, & devoted from yr own
I send enclosed in a newspaper, lest it should get crushed [. . .] a letter, the seal of one I recd to day. Browse’s fancy is so tickled with it, that he swears if ever he meets with a similar one, to purchase it.