Jefferson Quotes & Family Letters

Nothing but the determination to write regularly to the dear ones from whom I am separated, could surmount the obstacles that lie in the way of it my dearest sister, and already half of my week to write has slipped away without my having had it in my power to fill the accustomed sheet. to no one but a sister mother and sisters would I venture to send such long winded, trivial letter’s; well knowing if I did that I should be thought “an innocent” for my pains; but in writing to you, [. . .] I am sure of meeting with indulgence, and of conferring pleasure. affection lends interest to things that have none in themselves, and with the same pleasure that I read the most [. . .] trifling circumstance that you can relate concerning yourselves, the babies, and those who now are objects of interest in your eyes, I am sure you read the details of our unvaried lives. an event has however, occurred lately, which Mary mentioned to you when she wrote last. the return of Papa to live in his family. he now occupies the North Pavillion, and we are doing every thing in our power to contribute to his comfort; but as he expressly desired to live in solitude, which he said in the second note that he wrote to Nicholas, was essential to his tranquility of mind, Mary and myself never break in [. . .] upon it, except for a few moments in the morning to ask how he is, and by way of paying him an attention. Nicholas has been to see him but once; & Lewis not atall, because he thinks that he would not confer any pleasure by doing so, and says that he has met a very cold reception whenever he has visited Papa since his return from Georgia.

Papa complains constantly of a pain in his stomach, which he thinks is gout, and appears to be thinner, and more feeble than I ever saw him. he seems to be calm, and speaks with satisfaction of again having the use of his books which have been packed in boxes ever since he left here 16-months ago. I forgot to mention the contents of the note which I mentioned above, it was an answer to one that Nicholas wrote him, when he received the first, and written in a freindly style, beginning “dear Sir,” and expressing his interest in the happiness of every member of the family here, but saying that it was necessary for his tranquility that he should live in solitude; and that he should have many painful recollections in returning to the society of his family. the state of his stomach is the reason he assigned for not wishing to take his meals at table, which he has determined never to do again. my hope is that by the time Mama returns home he will be established so much to his satisfaction that he will not wish to make any change. but if he does, and Mama is resolved to consent, she must recollect that her children cannot see things return to their former state. if her rest is broken, I think we shall have a right to interfere, and not see her whose [. . .] life, and health and happiness is the very breath of our lives, sinking under such treatment. if no other remedy will answer we must go away (Nicholas & myself) and she with her family go to live with us. I ought not to speak of our removal, [. . .] however, as depending on that circumstance alone; it may be sooner, and because Nicholas cannot continue here without getting in debt. he must make money, and he will never practise his profession here. and now speaks frequently of the probability of his having to go where he can find employment that will suit him. Washington [. . .] he some times talks of. and some times of the south. a friend of his, (whom he became acquainted with at West Point) is now in Virginia, and gives so flattering an account of Attacapas from whence he comes, that I some times had rather try our fortune there than in on the Mississippi. he Mr. Baker has been living there for many years, has married there, and is making a fortune by his profession (law) and by the culture of sugar. he lives at Martinsville within half a days ride of the sea; and where not only the inhabitants, but strangers enjoy perfect health. the society is good, and they have the enjoyments of a fine climate, sea breezes, and orange groves. besides the power of making fortunes rapidly. Mr. Baker seemed to think Nicholas’s not returning to Louisiana a sort of infatuation to him quite incomprehensible; and he said when he looked round at our worn out land he thought nothing would induce him to live here. Nicholas, I believe, will never go to Louisiana without my consent, though he appears to be more anxious about it than he ever was before. and how can I consent unless Mama could go too? I will say nothing of the agony of parting, because I should have no right to sacrifice his interest and my childs, to my happiness. but Mama I know would have in addition to the pain of parting, a great many fears about the climate, which and heaven knows so far from being the cause of suffering to her, I would willingly make any sacrifice to spare her a [. . .] single pang. besides I do not think it would be possible for her to remain here after N. went away, and I know it would go very hard with her to leave this place, even to follow all of her children. the boys had much rather go to Louisiana than remain here. and the girls would have no objection but the pain that it will cost to go from this dear place let us go when or where we may. yes there is another far greater objection, and one that none of us could lose sight of for a moment even. it is that every mile of our journey would remove us farther from you. I shall never get to see you, I know it is quite impossible that I ever should; but I fear that you would never go so far to see us, and while we remain in these parts we may hope to see you sometimes inspite of your growing family. but necessity asks no favours of us, and if Nicholas must go, and Mama cannot live here without a master of the establishment who has law on his side; and if the boys think that it would further their fortunes, what can be done? the climate would suit her, and if our fortunes prospered, when we had become reconciled to our state of exile, we should have more tranquility than we have known of late years. perhaps too it might be as easy for you to visit us at St Martinsville, as in Virginia, travelling by water to our very doors. there is very little doubt now of the removal of Aunt Janes family, Francis having determined to sell his land to the highest bidder, after one more attempt [. . .] at making a private sale, and it is quite probable that he will go to Louisiana. none of the family are afraid of the climate. the Nicholas’s are making their fortunes very fast, and fortune seems to have taken them under her special care. their whole crop was lost in the voyage to Baltimore, but having been ensured to the full amount, they have lost nothing by it. Wilson is now in Baltimore and will shortly be here to visit his friends. they will not agree that the climate is atall unhealthy. since I wrote so far Nicholas says that you could get to see us more easily [. . .] in Louisiana than you can here, going to Pittsburg and down the Ohio & Mississippi. he says you could spend the winter with us, and we should soon be rich enough to go to see you in the summer. Mr. Baker came this route, and arrived in Washington in about a fortnight after he left home.

The babies are very sweet, and begin to say every thing. they do not speak many sentences, but every word that they understand they attempt to pronounce. Martha has too exclamations that I am sure I do not know where she picked up, and she brings them out with her imperfect articulation, very sweetly. “Oh Lorl ” and “my shoul ” she attempts to pronounce all your names, and calls Bess very sweetly. “dan ma, Aunt Tooids, Aunt ne, Aunt pim , and Utten dorse,” are the nearest she can come, though she trys her best, and pronounces with great deliberation and precision. she does not attempt to stand alone yet, and a few days ago, she was hanging to my frock and I took two three steps, which alarmed her very much, and made cry out “fall, fall”. she has not been well lately, having had frequent high fevers, and a swelling on her throat and cheek that lasted several days, and made me quite uneasy. Aunt Marks’s breast continues to grow worse, that is, the swelling and inflammation are encreasing, and yet the lump is as hard as when it first appear’d, adieu dearest sister I have been interrupted a dozen times, and have been writing in the midst of a clatter of tongues. tell me a great deal about dear little Nelly, and Bessy, and kiss them tenderly for me. embrace Mama and Cornelia, and thank Mama for the beautiful ribbons she sent us. kiss Tim & George, and remember me most affectionately to Joseph. for yourself dear sister accept all the love that one sister can feel for another, and for one whose friendship and affection have been always so justly prized. ever your own devoted