Title: From Abigail Smith Adams to Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody, 10 July 1811
From: Adams, Abigail Smith
To: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw

My Dear Sister
Quincy July 10th 1811

Not having Wholy dissolved by the intense heat of the last week, I am enabled from a change of the weather to take my pen, in lieu of my fan, and to ask you how much of you is left? when I Saw how much you sufferd the Saturday I left you in Boston from the heat, I was not a little anxious for you the last week: when it was 20 degrees hotter. I know not whether for four days together, I ever endured more from heat, and poor Juno labourd so hard for existance as any of us.
our dear Sister Sustaind it to astonishment, altho She was weakend with it. She is frail feble and panting, recovers very slowly, is Short breathd, and cannot walk or move without loosing her Breath. her Mouth is better, her appetite was good as we could expect, and as fancyfull as sick people usually are, but what a wreck does age and Sickness make of the human Frame? Such a Struggle for existance, which appears Scarce worth holding when obtaind. how justly does the Scripture describe it, Labour and Toil and pain, but what a Glorious prospect opens to our view. this Corruptable, shall put on incorruption, and this Mortal shall put on immortality. Let us look through this vale and trust the Ruler of the Skies.
Why my dear Sister your Letter was as fancifull as romantic as mrs Ratcliff—I Should say it was the ospring of one Score, rather than three, yet you left us in the dark as to the name of the Modest Swain “whose air was dignified where expression was literary and classical” but whom Morpheus placed upon your ShoulderSusan was very earnest for a further history respecting him—
Last Sunday morning arrived here through all the dust and heat of the week, my dear daughter Smith, with John and Caroline they came in an open carriage, a Light waggon upon springs Such as they use in their part of the State, and in 6-days from their own door. I need not Say how much rejoiced we were to meet after a Seperation of three years, and a half. Mrs Smith is gone to Town to day to consult dr Welch respecting her complaint which has not yet appeard to injure her health, altho the appearance is Allarming. I pray heaven it may not terminate in one of the most to be dreaded of all complaints.
I have Spent part of yesterday, and of this day with our dear Sister. She Says I must write for her, and thank you for your Letter. She is not able to hold a pen, but the disposition for talking is as great as ever, and the care about her Family predominant in her mind She exhausts her Spirits and Strength, by talking. She cannot bear to be left alone, and we are some or other of us with her almost every day. our dear Brother has revived with the hopes of her recovery upon whom, under heaven, his own existance depends. I do not think our Sister can possibly be able to attend to her Family for many Months to come, if ever. the Springs of Life are languid and worn down
and now I must ask my dear Grandaughter how She is? She must not think Quincy cooler than Atkinson. we Slept with all our windows wide open. I hope She is content. I will attend to her wants as soon as my Tennant will attend to mine
we have to day some rain. I hope the life blessing is extended to you. Many persons fell sacrifices to the heat of the last week, both in our own State, and others. I have not heard of any in this Town. pray my dear Sister Send Abbe on as Soon as you can Spair her. She will be an acquisition to us, and much comfort to our Sister who she can be occasionally with; we will all take our turns. John returns tomorrow with regret, that he cannot visit Atkinson first. he desires to be affectionatly rememberd to Mr Peabody to you and the Abbe’s Mrs Smith also presents her duty and hopes to see you, and yours before She returns—
company and many avocations oblige me to bid you adieu. Respects and Love were due / From your Sister
A AdamsJuly 11th


Title: From Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody to Abigail Smith Adams, 13 July 1811
From: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

Atkinson July 13th. 1811

I hope my Dear Sister’s Fibres are not so relaxed by the late intense heat of the weather, as not to be able to hold a Pen, & by her communications inform, comfort, & eddify her anxious Sister, & Friends—I was agreeably supprized by receiving two very kind letters from our good Brother Cranch, since my return to Atkinson—They gave me a very gratifying account of our dear Sister’s gradual restoration to health—Even from the brink of the Grave—For it seemed to me for three Days, as if her Soul, stood quivering on the verge of Life—to it almost bound & not fly hence—No doubt, it has pleased heaven to preserve her life for the performance of many more important Duties—& will I hope strengthen her in the time of Trial—
It was doubly pleasing to me to receive information of the family by my Brother Cranch because, when I left him, I really feared he would never be able to write again, or his earthly Tabernacle long continue—
He mentioned your receeving Letters from your Son—Had he heard of his Judicial appointment?—Do you expect his return in the Fall?—Have you received any farther account, from your dear Daughter Smith?—
To these, & many more family Concerns, I think my good, kind Sister will answer soon, if she is able—
How did the ever worthy President, bear the uncommon warmth of the Season? Even the strong nerves of Mr Peabody was entirely relaxed—We could scarcely work, or eat last week—& few of us could sleep—& all Study at Our House was at a low Ebb—I could not reprove, for I had not strength—I thought of my feeble Sister, but hoped it did not oppress her as us—I felt anxious for my Son, I found the heat, almost killed Him—I did not leave the Town my Sister, till I myself, heard Mr & Mrs Salles say, they would receive him as a Boarder, as soon as they could get a proper House—
Cousin Abby seems very contented, & Mr Pose, says she does well, for a beginner—How does your Son Thomas, & his Wife, & Children? Mrs Adams, & all?—I left your Shade in Mrs. Fosters Bereau—I think, I hope you have got it safe—I wore it to meeting, & intended to have put it in a paper directed to you, but forgot to—
I hope you will excuse this bad hurried scrawl, & accept of my affectionate regards & of Mr Peabody, Abby’s, high Esteem, conveyed through the medium of your Sister
E P—


Title: To John Adams from John Quincy Adams, 21 July 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Adams, John

N. 6.
My Dear Sir.
St: Petersburg 21 July 1811.

American vessels are now pouring upon us in floods—I wrote you less than a month since that there had then arrived at Cronstadt forty since the opening of the year’s Navigation; and already the number exceeds ninety, besides as many more at Archangel and the other Russian Ports—They have already glutted the markets untill they are forced to disgorge; but I hear that they are still coming by the hundred—I am sorry for the adventurers—They will almost universally make ruinous voyages.
To us however they furnish the advantage of bringing numbers of our Countrymen, bearers of news and newspapers from the United States; and occasionally, though very rarely a letter from some one of our friends. Yesterday morning for instance, Captain Boit of the Cordelia, called upon me, and delivered me your favour of 23. April dated from the “Head Quarters of the Lieutenant Governor”—I had already received, ten days ago your letter of 10. April, which was intended to have been sent by the same opportunity, but which was brought by a Captain Peart—In both these letters you manifest anew the wish for our return; and in one of them repeat the desire that I should accept the Judicial Office to which I had been appointed.
On this subject my determination was founded upon Circumstances which could not be known to you, at the time when your letters were written—I hope they will be sufficient in my your mind for my justification—With regard to my acceptance of the office it is now too late for repentance; nearly two months since I declined it—I have not changed my feelings or my opinions—But in your letter of 10. April, there seems a suggestion that the state of things in America has increased your idea of the urgency that I should accept the proffered seat upon the Bench—In a former letter you had intimated that a refusal of the Office would be imputed to unbridled Ambition.—
I suppose there are who would impute it to unbridled Ambition, whether I had or had not consented to be adjudicated—Because there are who have long since settled it in their own minds that I am ambitious; and that as you observe with reference to another person, all Ambition is boundless—When the mind is predisposed to a certain conclusion in matters of opinion, the facts most irreconcileable with each other, serve equally well for premises—For instance, if from my refusal of one of the most distinguished Offices in the Union, the inference must be drawn that my motive was unbridled Ambition, what would have been the inference from my acceptance of it?—Do you think it would have established me a reputation for meekness and humility?—I never was afraid of the reproach of being ambitious.—But I have many many times felt an obligation of duty to sacrifice the sentiment of Ambition, to my family or my friends; and still oftener have I been irresistibly impelled to sacrifice it, merely to tranquility, not to say to the love of ease
When I came to Russia, my motive doubtless in the opinion of many was Ambition—But there were not wanting persons who thought I was sent here for the express purpose of putting me out of the way—More than one of my friends wrote, and spoke to me of it, as of an exile, and it was certainly not a voyage, which I considered calculated to promote ambitious views—I knew that it was not agreeable to you, and that Circumstance alone was enough to take away all pleasure from it—I knew equally well that it was going straight away from the high road of Ambition, and so far as related to political prospects, retiring into obscurity.—My real motive was perfectly simple—The Constitutional Organ of my Country had assigned this to me as my proper Post—I saw no reason sufficient to induce me to refuse it.
The same Constitutional Organ has now seen fit to call me home, and to put me as one of my friends writes me, upon a high shelf—How does it appear to you?—You welcome it as the means to procure my return, and because it would remove me from the tourbillon of politics—But yet you specially wish me to accept; because parties are splitting up; because one Secretary is out and another in—Because the Governor & Senate of Massachusetts are Republican—Because all was uncertainty from Europe; and a special Session of Congress was expected—
In this State of Things, had I accepted, and returned home, do you think that a seat upon the Bench would have removed me from the tourbillon of politics?—do you think it would have been a shelter from the “wind of this commotion.”?—I will candidly confess to you that I have no such idea—If my own Passions would allow me to stand aloof from all Politics, as much as every Judge ought to, the Passions of others would involve me in them—If my heart is sufficiently impartial towards all my Countrymen, to make me a proper umpire in their controversies, their hearts are not impartial enough to me, to make them fit to be judged by me—is this the phantom of my Imagination?—I will not give you a dissertation for what you will understand by a hint—My aversion to a Judicial Office rests chiefly upon this settled opinion—The opinion, upon all my experience—all my self-observation—all my observation of others in their relations to me.
I have other objections against holding a judicial office, with which I need not trouble the public, and which I should have desired to keep exclusively within my own breast—How shall I disclose them to you, after acknowledging my apprehension that you will disapprove the opinions in which they originate?—Pressed as I am by your advice so earnestly and so repeatedly urged, I must however disclose them, and leave the estimate of their weight to your indulgence—Let me say then that I am deeply dissatisfied with the what is called the Administration of Justice, both in our State and Federal Courts—That by the principles of their organization and proceedures, they appear to me in the majority of cases to produce by inevitable necessity, within the sacrifice of substantial Justice, either to mere forms, or to general rules.—I entertain some very heretical opinions upon the merits of that Common Law, so idolized by all the English Common Lawyers, and by all the Parrots who repeat their words in America—These opinions have not been adopted hastily or without Consideration—They are deeply rooted in my mind, and could not easily be eradicated—In the Report to the Senate, in the case of John Smith, and in one or two passages of my Lectures, I have given a mere glimpse at some of them—One of my motives for doing it was to feel the public pulse with regard to certain principles—The storm of Passion in the Senate, and the clamour throughout the Nation excited by those very passages of the Report, as well as the enthusiastic approbation of the same passages, by another party, both in the Senate and among the People induced me to be extremely cautious in future, how I mingled such edged tools as these in the political controversies of the times—I have not weight and influence enough in my Country, to bring it over to my opinions, and I have too much Independence of Spirit to renounce them myself.—In any other than a Judicial station I have no call to discuss them—There, a sense of duty would often compel me to bring them out, and if I did, you may be assured, that neither my life nor the good People of America would be tranquilized by it—
26. July 1811.
I have been obliged to change my usual place of abode, in St: Petersburg—the house in which I resided, and of which I had a lease to the 13th: of next June having been sold, and the lease of course annulled—I was fortunate enough to find a comfortable and beautifully situated house, on an island, within the bounds of the City, but really a Country Seat, on the Banks of the Novka—It had been some months empty for want of a tenant, and being suitable for habitation only during the Summer Months, its owner was glad to let us have it at a moderate rent—We took it for four months, of which one is nearly past, and at the end of which we must again seek for Winter lodgings.
I received last Evening your favour of April 28—N. 10. brought by the Hugh Johnston, Captain Johnson, which renews the injunction upon me to accept the appointment which I have refused—I can add nothing to what I have already written you upon this subject.—If I could recall my answer to the President, declining the office, it must have been by asking that he should keep it vacant for me another year, after it has been to the great injury of the public already been kept so one twelvemonth—My wife is now in hourly expectation of being confined—It would be impossible within two Months after her Confinement to embark for such a Voyage, and with such a family—It would not be impossible, with an infant of two Months old, and a mother nursing it, of such a Constitution as my wife’s to undertake a Voyage in October, over the gulph of Finland, the Baltic, the North-Sea, and the Atlantic Ocean, but I certainly would not undertake it, unless some great and important public interest, could justify me in staking the lives of my wife and child upon such a voyage—I am not sensible of any such public interest; and it is still my intention to pass the Winter here—I shall have the inclination, and with the blessing of Heaven hope there will be no insuperable impediment to my return next Summer—but not to be a Judge—not to usurp the place which ought to be held by Judge Davis—
We have very lately received the account of the action between the Frigate President, and the Little Belt.—The English ministerial papers assert that the first shot was fired from our Frigate—I hope this is not true—But affairs appear to be rapidly coming to the last extremities between the United States and England—A War appears to be inevitable, and I lament it with the deepest affliction of heart, and the most painful anticipation of consequences—It is at home that an English War will bring on our heaviest trial, as I presume one of its early effects will be a struggle for the division of the States, which has been so long in contemplation and preparation by the New England federalists.—Our Commerce too will suffer most severely by the War, though it will continue to be carried on to a considerable extent, by contraband or by licences—
It is upon the fate of the War in Spain that the fate of the world is suspended—So says the Emperor Napoleon, and so speak the actions of the British Government—We are now in expectation of the news of a Battle—But why should I say this to you, when if such a Battle has been fought you will hear of its issue nearly as soon as we shall—I could tell you indeed of a Battle in Turkey, between General Kutuzoff and the Grand Vizir—Last Sunday I attended the Te Deum to celebrate the Victory of the Russians—But the Russians have something now upon their hands more serious than a Turkish War—Digito compesce labellum.—The year 1811 is passing in Peace—Your’s in duty
A.


Title: From Abigail Smith Adams to Abigail Louisa Smith Adams Johnson, 23 July 1811
From: Adams, Abigail Smith
To: Johnson, Abigail Louisa Smith Adams

dear Abbe
Quincy July 23d 1811

your Mother has been So constant in writing that I have been the more remiss. I am glad to find that you are content, and happy I hope. I was in Boston on Saturday, and bought for you a Box of paints, and  Bennets Letters. I Sent them to mr Phineas Fosters with a request that you he would take them to Haverhill for you. Charles Welch who understands paints pronounced them very good, and in the one Row Box, all the coulours you have occasion for; I also bought four Brushes for you. if anything more is wanting, you must let me know, with respect to your Studies. I would have your hand writing and Arithmatic and Grammer particularly attended to. make yourself Mistress of each Branch. you may find them necessary to you to procure you a living. we know not what we may be called to pass through in this world, if you are not thus obliged to improve them. no Lady is qualified to pass through Life with credit to herself and usefulness to others without Some knowledge of them all, and why when you undertake a thing should you not excell in it? it requires only Steady habits, and application to obtain the prize Set before you.
your Aunt Smith, and Caroline are here and well your Aunt Cranch gets along but Slowly. She is very weak, and has a bad cough which troubles her very much. She has rode out a little ways Several times, but is obliged to crawl up Stairs upon her Hands when She returns—Riding Suits her. She thinks She could ride Several miles, but her Spirits are much beyond her Strength
your Aunt Adams is quite well She dined here last Friday, and on Sunday carried the Baby out which She named Francis Foster. She looks much like Elizabeth. Thomas grows pretty daily—
Give my Love to your Aunt, and tell her that I think mr Shaw walks much better. he was here on Sunday, and Says he is better. he talks of taking a journey, to be absent Several weeks as Soon as the Court rises. I think it will Serve his Health
when are we to See Cousin Abbe? we have been looking for her Some time. I got your Aunts Letter about the Same time She got mine—I Shall write to her Soon—
I was amused with your politicks. you must tell the young Ladies that I have heard it observed that a Ladies politicks Should be always those of their Husbands now if they fix theirs, they must be Sure they are Right, and chuse accordingly, or they may chance to Spar, and that would be very unpleasant. I fix it as a principle that every Lady Should Love her own Country in preference to any other, and that whatever tends to promote its prosperity its happiness and welfare Should be regarded by her, next to her near Relatives—for in the Fredom and Independence of her country, is containd her own happiness, and that of her connections. I ask them to Name a Country equally Blest with our own, not withstanding all the Clamours against our Rulers, and all the injuries we have Sustaind from forign powers? neither war, Pestilence or Famine would waste and destroy our Land. we dwell in peace and Safety. our Country produces us every necessary, and many of the Luxuries of Life. no hard task Master gripes them from us. no Children of want Starve for Bread. there is one thing we want. we want gratefull Hearts and deserve not the abundant mercies we receive—
My pen grows So bad that I must close my Letter with the hope of hearing from you, and that in better hand writing than what is written by your / affectionate Grandmother

Abigail Adams—
PS—your Aunt and cousin  desire to be rememberd to  your uncle and Aunt Peabody  and to your cousin & you


Title: From Abigail Smith Adams to William Stephens Smith, 23 July 1811
From: Adams, Abigail Smith
To: Smith, William Stephens

Dear Sir
Quincy July 23 1811

I hope you will not impute my not writing to you by your son to want of attention to you, or a proper Sensibility to your request containd in your Letter to me. The extreem Heat of the weather, and my joy at the arrival of a dear and only Daughter after an absence of three years and a half, realley disqualified me for my pen, and Johns Stay was so limited that I could not Say by him What I wished, as I had not then Seen the Doctor myself. since then  I have conversed upon the Subject. his opinion is, that no outward application Should be made, and that mrs Smiths general State of health is so good as not to threaten any present danger. he does not pronounce it to be of the nature we feared, tho he cannot say but what it may terminate in one and he further say that it may remain in its present state many years unless improper  applications should be made. he advises to the use of the Hemlock pills.
Mrs Smith and Caroline Sustaind the heat of the weather and the fatigue of the journey with much vigor. The Idea of Distance has greatly diminished since I find that one week can bring us together. by Johns Letter to his Mother he has made a more rapid retrogade—a Rogue—he frightned us all, by his list of untoward accidents, which he never experienced
I began to think before his Mother got through his Letter, that the whole sum of the Misiries of human Life had befallen him at once—when behold it was a vision of the Night. I consider it a very fortunate circumstance that your good Mother & sister are with you, to supply the place, and in some measure compensate for the absence of your Best Friend, and Dear Daughter, who I find no way alterd but in her more womanly appearence, and deportment, her lively disposition, So sweetly chastned with that first of Female virtues, Modesty, and her tender attentive and affectionate behaviour endears to her to every one.
I hope you will not impatient for their Return, but spair them to us as long as you can, you may live many Years to rejoice in them, neither the Father or Mother can expect to Remain much longer, infirmities increase with years, but I will enjoy the present. nor damp the joy, by fut anticipations of the future
Your domestic Naration amused us much, I could see the Zeal of your Mother, and the anxiety of Nancy to make every thing correspond with ancient establishments. present my kind and affectionate Remembrance to them
we wish you may make it convenient to visit us, when ever mrs Smith returns—a journey and the Sea air may benefit your Health—The president desires to be Rememberd to you & yours—we all unite in Love and affection to the whole Family of whom we talk Daily—
I am dear Sir / yours in Love and Friendship
Abigail Adams


Title: From Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody to Abigail Smith Adams, 3 August 1811
From: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

Atkinson August 3d 1811

Your Letter my Dear Sister, received a week since, flattered me with the pleasing Prospect of our beloved Sisters recovery— though slowly, & feeble, I trusted she might yet be of great service to her family, by her Presence, & Instruction; but your Intelligence by to Days Mail; has damped my fond Expectations—deeply shaded, & almost erased the pleasures of Hope—The sudden & voilent attack made medical applications necessary, which no doubt has greatly impaired her Constitution, & rendered recovery more slow, & difficult—I depended much upon her appetite, as Nature at her age wants frequent supplies—if that ceases, we have little reason to expect her long continuance—Her Cough must wear her out—And yet my Sister, I find it hard to realize that we must “see her Face no more”—hard to bring my mind to bow submissive, to such an Event—though for her we trust it will be happy—When I was at Quincy, the first week of my visit, I thought I saw in our Sister, almost youthful vigor, joined to the Experience, usefulness & wisdom of age, & I counted for her protracted Days, & length of years—to advise the young, & sustain the Orphans—. But God sees, not as feeble limited, human Creatures—& will adjust all in Righteousness—This is my Anchor— Here we must wait—
Dr Denny, & Daughter, & other company from Ipswich coming has prevented my sending by this weeks mail—
August 7th
I rejoice my dear Brother & Sister, that Heaven has given you an opportunity of again folding a beloved Daughter in your Parental arms—accompanied by her dear Children— I cannot tell you how pleased Mr Peabody would have been to have taken Cousin John by the hand, & pressed him to his Heart—we all regret his being obliged to return so soon—
I am exceeding glad to hear that the Drs. do not think Mrs Smiths Breast in so dangerous a state as we feared—As the bunch is moveable, I think it must be of the even kind, & perhaps more easy cured—She always was possessed of Fortitude, & great strength of mind, & will I trust, submit to What may be considered best—Present my love to her, & my ardent wishes for that she may experience the Supporting hand of Him, who healeth Diseases—
My Daughter I intended should have been at Quincy e’re this time, & have done all in her power for her Aunt—But the Heat of the weather, I believe, brought a very uncomfortable breaking out, in her neck, & head—that I dare not have her leave home—She is now a little relieved; & will be able I hope soon to go, & be of what service she can—She can take some care of the Children at least—But more persons than can do good—injures—
My Cousin Abby, is a lovely sweet tempered youth—She has begun to pars, but it took her a month to commit the Accidence; & Mr Vose does not like they should commence any other Study, till that is obtained—It is the foundation, upon which to build—For her Companions, she has some very studious, & she seems disposed to apply with diligence, more than at first
And is less under the Influence, of what Mr  calls marching Orders— Indeed, the weather has been so intense, that none of us, could long keep in one place—I have only time to assure her Mother that we all love her Daughter, & that I really think she holds herself better, & more erect than she did, & think her amiable Mothers good letters, will do much to improve, & instruct—as well as those adieu of my Dear Sisters—Excuse this bad paper, & hasty scrall from her who presents respects, & love where due—joined by Mr Peabody, & Abby—yours with affection
E P—To my Sister, you will say everything proper from me


Title: From Alexander Hill Everett to Louisa Catherine Johnson Adams, 11 August 1811
From: Everett, Alexander Hill
To: Adams, Louisa Catherine Johnson

Stockholm. August. 11. 1811.

I have a thousand apologies to make to you, Madam, for not having troubled you sooner with a line, which to avoid fatiguing you, I omit altogether—In fact I have as yet met with nothing of sufficient importance to deserve your attention and I can hardly flatter myself that you will find any thing here to repay the pain of reading. To be sure, I should pity the man, who could travel from Petersburgh to Åbo and say “it is all barren” whereas, on the contrary it is in many parts remarkably fertile and I suspect the man who should apply the above remarks to this country would make a greater mistake than the original grumbler, that said it of the land between Dan and Beersheba. Nevertheless, there is very little of such food, as travellers love to feed on and ladies love to read of. No adventures of Knight-errantry; no souvenirs from those good old days, when the men were all brave and the women all beautiful—Here and there, indeed, one may see a moated castle or a garrisoned fort, but they are appropriated merely to the vulgar purpose of defending a town and make no pretentions to the honour of harbouring ghosts and spectres or of re-echoing the sighs and cries of any imprisoned damsel—To an admirer of nature in all her forms one of the most interesting objects, that can occur on this journey is the beauty of the Swedish women, which, I suppose, is now so well established by universal consent, that it would be almost a proof of heresy in taste not to corroborate the story.—I am aware, that it is in some measure, transgressing the rules of nice propriety in addressing one lady to speak of the beauty of another, but I am also aware that your enlightened mind is equally above such miserable jealousies and such rules made only for those that stand in need of leading-strings. I therefore observe without hesitation, that immediately on passing the ancient boundary-line between Russian and Swedish Finnland, and particularly in the town, which has the honour of bearing your name the first on the Swedish side, there is a very remarkable improvement in the aspect of its female face divine for I have remarked that the beauty of the Swedish ladies is rather in their complexion and face than their form, tho’ the latter could not well be inferior to that of their immeasurable neighbors. It would be wrong to say, that I met with no interesting object on the route. On the contrary I was highly pleased and interested with the peaceful contentment and pastoral happiness of an old Corycian, that I met with on one of the rucks in the bay of Åbo, whom I mentioned in my letter to Mr. Adams a few days since. In rambling through his fields I plucked by accident a head of clover, attracted by the blossom. Afterwards as I held it in my hand it reminded me of the clover we were all hunting for the day before I left Petersburgh and I said to myself, Now it would be droll enough, if on this sprig, which I plucked by accident, there should be a four-leaved one.—There was however and I preserved it carefully between the leaves of Martin Luthers German Bible and have now the honour of inclosing it to you in the hope that it will bring you a great deal of good fortune and Glüsh.
I have not sufficiently digested in my brain the chaos of different things I have seen at Stockholm to be able to give you a rational account of it—I was very sorry that Mr. deCabre was not arrived, from whose acquaintance I expected a great deal of pleasure—Perhaps it may be amusing to hear a little of Col. Burr, with whom you are so well acquainted. I know the gentleman, with whom he resided the year that he passed here. He says, that the Col. lived very sparingly, appeared to be rather unhappy, was still however amiable and attentive to its fair, so much so that the cuisuilre of this French gentleman was deeply touched with its belle passions, and after the departure of Col. B. talked strongly of following him. Tho’ she was neither handsome nor cleanly, she had a sensible heart. “Ah, why should fate such pleasure have, Life’s dearest bands untwining
And why so sweet a flower as love
Depend on fortune’s shining.”
Speaking of love and a sweet flower naturally reminds me of Miss Johnson. I beg you to present my best regards to her, which, if I had time, I would throw into rhyme. It is my firm resolution not to submit to the usual fortune of travellers, that of being forgotten at the first port. Charles, I trust, is in good health. If I were better informed of the actual state of things, perhaps I might find myself authorized to make an enquiry for the health of a certain mysterious personage, already perhaps designated as la nouvelle alas Discretion however seals my lips in expectation of farther intelligence.


Title: From John Quincy Adams to Catherine Nuth Johnson, 12 August 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Johnson, Catherine Nuth

My Dear Madam,
St: Petersburg 12. August 1811.

It is but a few days since I received your favour of 1. March, though I had two months earlier learnt from Mr Hellen the heavy misfortune that had befallen him. I have deferred answering your letter untill this day, with the hope, which is that this moment realized, of announcing to you my Lousia’s deliverance— She has this day at seven in the Evening, after a severe labour of about twelve hours given me a daughter, and I would not suffer the day to pass without communicating to you the joyful tidings
The expectation of this Event was the occasion upon which I declined the appointment with which I was honoured by the President and Senate at the close of the last Session of Congress.—It would have been impossible for us to have accomplished a voyage to the United States before this time and I could not think of embarking in such a condition of my family— The present State of things makes it equally unadvisable if not impossible to embark during the remainder of the present Season, and I have thus no prospect of being able to reach the United States this year.—The Office was of such a nature as not to admit of the delay which was indispensable for my return—I therefore held it my duty to excuse myself from accepting it.—
My dear wife has not written I believe to you for several months; nor to any of her friends in America—The motives which have induced her silence will readily be conjectured, and I trust will meet your approbation or your indulgence—She has written you by Mr. Reuss who I hope has ere this delivered you her Letter, in which I believe she had informed you almost to a day when the time of her confinement was to come. I have written almost every week since that time to my friends at Quincy, and from your Correspondent there I trust you will frequently hear of her state of health, but as my anxeities on her account particularly during the last three months might have communicated an alarm to you which I was unwilling to give, I have prefered waiting for the moment when I hoped with the blessing of Heaven to have only such intelligence to impart as would delight the heart of a Mother.
Catherine is well, as are all the rest of our family, the new born damsel included, I hope in a few days to have the same to say of her Mother; in the mean time requesting to be remembered affectionately to Mr Hellen, and to all the other members of the family. I remain Dear Madam / your faithful friend.


Title: From William Stephens Smith to Abigail Smith Adams, 12 August 1811
From: Smith, William Stephens
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

Dear Madam
Lebanon august 12th, 1811

I have received your affectionate and interesting Letter of the 23d. of July you have conversed with the Doctor, but omit to mention his name, you say it is his opinion “that no outward application should be made, and that mrs: Smith’s general state of health is so good as not to threaten any present danger, he does not pronounce it to be a cancer, tho he cannot say, but that it may terminate in one. It may remain in its present state many years, unless improper applications should be made, he advises the use of the Hemlock Pills” the Doctor will excuse me if I say, the above opinion reminds me of Tom Paines point no point in his sailing up the Delaware
But Knowing as I do that hemlock is the principal medicine recommended in cases of Cancer, I have no doubt in my mind, but he conceives this to be the disorder, Mrs: Smith in her letter of 11th. July say’s the doctors opinion is that it is an obstructed Gland (granted) and what is a cancer? it is a hard indolent tumour seated in some of the Glands; as the Breast, armpits &c. If the tumour becomes less unequal, of a livid, blackish or leaden colour attended with violent pain, it is (plainly) called an occult cancer. When the skin is broken and an Ichorous fœtid matter is discharged it is (plainly) called an open or ulcerated cancer.
If no outward application is to be made to draw the complaint to the surface and force it to assume a character, so that a decided opinion may be formed and specific remedies applied, does he mean that it should be permitted to disperse its malignancy thro’ the whole frame, untill health and vigour of constitution is destroyed, that when ultimately it shews itself, the whole frame is so contaminated and debilitated, that in all human probability external applications can have no possible effect, and we must wait in pensive melancholy silence the sure inevitable calculated approach of death? No. my opinion is, as the complaint in the doctors mind is a non-descript, but that it may terminate in a cancer, it had better be drawn forth in the first instance and forced to take its station, then we shall know what remedies are to be used and where to apply them and what internal medicine will best aid them
The cancer is decidedly under the command of known species, and piquant cures have been made in this state, let the doctor make it unfold itself so as to decide the use of the Knife—In my opinion the proper medicine and external applications had better be attended to, and administered, when the afflicted enjoys a good state of health supported by an uninjured constitution and can boyantly bear what little inconvenience may arise from the operation of medicine and the effects of external applications, than to wait the slow operation of time, untill the whole frame is affected and of course debilaty ensuing, the recovery will be twenty to one against us.—The doctor advises simply the use of hemlock pills these pills are of a very slow operation, and their effect is almost if not entirely unnoticed by the patient, the only indication which can be had when it is proper to stop taking them, for some day’s, is, when the head is affected and a dizziness, succeeded by a langour in the brain is noticed, these hints of a necessary check if too frequently experienced may prove suddenly fatal, or be attended with mental derangement—However Doctor Stork of Vienna recommends the extract of the hemlock plant as very efficacious in cancers of every kind, he does not pretend to fix the time in which a cancer may be resolved by the use of hemlock, but he say’s he has given it for above two years in large doses without any apparent benefit; nevertheless the patient was cured by persisting in the use of for six months longer. This at least is encouragement for giving it a fair trial. The powder of hemlock is by some preferred to the extract, they are both made of the fresh leaves, and may be used in the same manner, Doctor Nicholson of Berwick say’s, he gradually increased the dose of the powder from a few grains to half a drachm and gave four drachms of it in the day with remarkably good effects. The Hemlock may also be used externally either as a poultice or fomentation—
If the pills recommended, are to aid the operation of the  plaister originally advised, perhaps they may operate on the blood, bile and interior fluids, jointly to produce a benificial effect, if the hope and calculation is a total dispersion—well and good. but if only internal remedies are applied, and they should fail in producing the desired effect, the whole frame becomes affected and the disorder should then assume a decided Character the applications for the cure of an open and ulcerated cancer, and a change of medicine and particular diet is requisite, recourse must be had to alternatives, and the dernier resort of medical men, in such cases, is Calomel which may produce the desired effects—but when administered for a length of time, to a person debilitated, and on the decline of Life, the patient is too frequently left to drag out a miserable existance, under a strict regimen and an insupportable debility of the whole frame, untill exhausted nature surrenders at discretion and the patient sinks listlessly into the Silent Grave.
I am an advocate for prompt and decisive experiments to ascertain the nature of the complaint, and its decided character, this was to me the primary essential object of the visit, I hesitated to treat it as a cancer, least I should err,—but if it is a cancer, let it be pronounced so, and as I said before, I have no doubt, it can be promptly cured—If it is simply a swelling of the breast common to females from 40 to 50 years of age, too long unattended to, the Knowledge of the Doctor, and the attentions and experience of a tender Mother; with the enlivening society of an affectionate amiable Daughter, will I flatter myself shortly tranquilize the feeling’s of an affectionate husband & father—
You say my dear Madam “you hope I will not be impatient for the return of Mrs: Smith and Caroline, but that I will spare them to you as long as possible, that I may live many years to rejoice in them, but that neither her father nor yourself can expect to remain much longer infirmities encrease—but you will not damp the joy’s before you, with a future case
I will wave the right to claim the performance of the duty imposed upon a Wife, viz that she shall quit father and mother and cleave unto her husband, for the last twenty five years, your dear daughter has fulfilled her duties as a Wife, friend and mother in a very exemplary manner; too to which I bear willing and cheerful testimony, founded on the solid basis of truth; now I will endeavour in some degree to repay the obligation in the quarter century to come, and if it will be in any degree productive of pleasurable sensations to you and her venerable and most respectable Father I will leave my mother and family and cleave unto my Wife, thus reversing the obligation connected with a marriage Contract;
I will never express a wish to seperate your only and lovely daughter from you in your declining age, I will make arrangements to come and reside near you, that she may be with you, and I with her, if a furnished House, or Genteel appartments could be hired near you such as Mrs: Smith approves of, let me know the amount of quarterly rent, I will make the necessary arrangements with a competent surplus for contingencies and come and take my modest station—I am done with public life, I seek only for retirement, which I can have in your neighborhood I suppose as well as on the banks of the Chenango, for at the time I failed the base attempt of Mr: Jefferson to destroy me on the Miranda question, I concluded that fortune had determined to make him the instrument of my destruction and I promptly determined no longer to attempt to render her propitious, but to immitate the example of Aristonines and singly brave her utmost anger, in consequence of my decision, she seems disposed to reconsider me with some degree of complacency she smiles at my fortitude and is somewhat disposed to relent, she finds she cannot shake me, and I am determined she shall never again deceive me so probably we shall in future go on together calmly, not being exposed to her flatteries, I can never be in any degree sufficiently subservient, to seek her smiles improperly—Perhaps you may be disposed to consider this proposition as shewing in some degree a want of that attention that is due to my own venerable, highly esteemed and much beloved Mother, this I think I can never be charged with, I leave her in the bosom of my Brother, with every disposition to contribute to her comfort, by an abundant supply of every thing she can wish or want thro’ life, and an ample provision for Nancy her only remaining Daughter, who has attended to her for years, with every assiduity that filial affection could dictate or parental solicitude could hope for, and be gratified with. Should she be at any time indisposed, I know my attendance upon her will be essential to her tranquility and peace of mind, of course on the first intimation of any indisposition, I can be with her in three day’s from Quincy, my absence in such a case will be readily assented to, by my dear Wife and Daughter.
Now my dear Madam you have the subject question in your own hands, subject only to the controul and guidance of your prudent Daughter for myself I will never make arrangements independent of her wishes, but will myself confirm and make fortune subservient to me, in this business, she may yet for a time circumscribe my circle of movement but she cannot check the fulfillment of this arrangement, should it meet with the approbation of the concerned—
So no more at present from / yours to serve—as we / Country Gent: sometimes conclude / Our Letters—
W: S: Smith


Title: From John Quincy Adams to George Washington Adams, 15 August 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Adams, George Washington

N. 3.
My Dear Son George.
St: Petersburg 15. August 1811.

Some time since, your Mama and I received two letters from you at once—the first to your Mama was dated 18th. January, and the other to me 5th: February—I was glad to see that you had taken pains to write them as well as you could and that your hand-writing was improved.—I intreat you my Dear Son, to pay constant attention to your hand-writing—It is now more than four years since you first began to learn to write, and your brother John in less than two writes almost as well as you—Now, I do not mention this for the sake of commending your brother, to mortify you, but for the sake of giving you a little more good advice—It often happens that one person learns a thing much easier than another, and sometimes when a boy sees that his Schoolmate learns faster than himself, he thinks he cannot help it and becomes discouraged and careless—But a true spirited boy, as I hope you are, does exactly the contrary—He takes double pains, to keep even pace with his fellows, and when he does that he is always sure to succeed—I believe there is a Fable about a greyhound that lost a race with a tortoise—Now whenever you find that in learning any thing worthy of being learnt, Nature has only given you the powers of a tortoise, you must determine to give yourself those that will make you a match for the fleetest that runs with you.
You say you wish you could practice the advice contained in one of my former letters as well, as you understand it—You may be sure I shall never give you any advice but such as you can practice if you please—But among the good and necessary things that you have to learn is that of ruling your own Spirit “He that hath no rule over his own Spirit” said Solomon, “is like a city that is broken down, and without walls”—that is, always liable to be destroyed, and sure to be ruled by his greatest enemies.—In all the good Books that you have read; in Cornelius Nepos, in the Arabian Nights, in the History of Charles 12. and above all in Homer’s Iliad, you will find this lesson constantly repeated: but no where with so much energy, and authority as in the best of all Books the Bible.
I am obliged to finish this letter sooner than I intended, the Gentleman who is to take it being now waiting for it—I have the pleasure of informing you that you have a Sister, who was born last Monday the twelfth day of this Month—She is in very good health, and your Mama, is as well as could be expected.
Present my respects, to Uncle and Aunt Cranch, and to Mr: Whitney, and my love to your brother John—Charles often talks of you and is very well.
I am your affectionate father
John Quincy Adams.


Title: To John Adams from John Quincy Adams, 20 August 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Adams, John

My Dear Sir.
St: Petersburg 20. August 1811.

Part of the enclosed press-copy of my last Letter to you, is so faint, that unless you should have received the original, before it comes to hand, I am afraid you will be obliged to call for the assistance of younger eyes to make it out. Since it was written I have had the pleasure of receiving letters from my brother, and my wife has had one from my mother, but none from you—I remain however yet in arrears of correspondence with you, having already received your number 10. since the Commencement of the present year.
My wife was brought-to-bed the twelfth day of this month at seven O’Clock in the Evening—As the Ladies seem to have a prescriptive right to the first intelligence of Events of this Nature, I wrote the account of this, to her mother and to mine the same day on which it happened—She has not on this occasion, altogether escaped those consequences of Confinement which have in former cases of the same kind been so afflictive to herself, and so alarming to me—She was unable to leave her bed an hour, untill the sixth day—But she is now recovering slowly, and will I hope in the course of the month be restored at least to a state of health as good as she has ever been used to enjoy. She is delighted with having this time a daughter, and the child is as healthy and lively as we could wish.
This Circumstance, which has occurr’d precisely at the time, when according to the ordinary progress of things we expected it, has settled my determination to pass here the ensuing Winter—I have been waiting for it with more than usual anxiety, not only because the news of the calamity in her family, had come to her in a very sudden manner, and at a most critical period, but because it was in a manner indispensable to my own justification for the line of conduct which I have pursued in declining the public appointment to which I had been called at home—It would have been impossible to have embarked since the opening of the Navigation this Season, with a thought of reaching the United-States before this time; and assuredly no vessel which has sailed this year from hence has yet arrived in America—Independent of the inevitable dangers of the voyage to a woman in this condition, that of a labour and child-birth at Sea, to a person with my wife’s Constitution was an idea utterly insupportable—I am persuaded you will not think I ought to have incurred this risk.—My only doubt is, whether you may not entertain an opinion, that now, I might still embark before the closing of the Navigation, and that I ought to have availed myself of this possibility—But should the getting up, be as rapid and as prosperous as our most sanguine hopes can anticipate, it would yet be impossible for us to embark at Cronstadt before the month of October—If it were merely a voyage from England or France to the United States at that Season I would undertake it; but to begin a voyage through the Gulph of Finland, the Baltic and the North-Sea, precisely at the time when men of War, are compelled to abandon them, and then to come upon the American Coast in December or January at best, with an infant of two months old, and a nursing-mother, not made like Ann of Cleves, is what nothing but the stake of a great public interest would warrant, and what I shall not now attempt.
As I declined the seat upon the Bench, upon the foresight of this State of things, I conclude that another judge will be appointed during the next Session of the United States Senate—The place here will remain to be disposed of at the pleasure of the President—I forsee no insuperable impediment to my return home the next Summer, if he deems my recall to be still expedient—If at any time I could have harboured an Ambition or desire to go elsewhere, the state of affairs in the only places where I could be transferred is sufficient to damp a fiercer flame than I ever felt—Among the good-natured friends that I have both in Europe and America, who speculate and foretell upon persons and appointments, there have been enough to give me notice of destinations, which might have been assigned to me—I assure you in the sincerity of my heart, that I have never had an intimation of these possibilities, without serious concern, lest they should prove true, and that I have felt a real satisfaction at finding the lot cast upon others, which it was supposed by many hoped by a few, and feared perhaps by more than either might fall to me—In justice to my own feelings I ought to tell you, to whom my whole soul is as open as to itself that I never will shrink from any Post, which the Constitutional organ of my Country shall assign to me, for any difficulty or danger with which it may be beset—But I may be allowed to feel a satisfaction when I see myself pass’d by, in the assignment of a place where I know there is nothing but difficulty and danger to be expected—You have in some of your letters suggested the idea, that the motives of some of those whose suffrages concurred to the appointment last offered me, were neither pure nor friendly to me—Of those which actuated the President I am as sure, as if they were in my own heart—I know they were both honest and kind to me—Among the Senators there were certainly two, whom no personal regard for me would have withheld from recording their votes against me, and who not having done it, must have been actuated by motives of a different kind—If it were in my nature to suspect dishonest intentions in conduct apparently fair, my own interest in this case would lead me to more favourable conclusions—It is more honourable to myself as well as to the voters to believe that they gave their assent to the nomination from the conviction that I was well qualified for the Office, than to imagine that they foresaw it would be a place  where I should be stowed away from public view, or unavoidably forfeit any popularity which I might possess—Those at least are motives which no one will acknowledge, and considering the unanimity of the vote in Senate, as a testimony of confidence in my integrity from political opponents as well as friends, it has been the most gratifying occurrence of my life—The office itself, of a Judge, nothing could ever reconcile to my own inclinations; but with this testimony in my favour, I can retire to private life, not with a prouder consciousness of my own uprightness than when I was turned out of the Senate by my Constituents, the Massachusetts Legislature, but at last with a dismissal, less offensive in form, and more agreeable in substance.
My good friend, Quincy, whom notwithstanding his great and manifold political errors, I still adhere to in heart as a friend, made last Winter an eloquent, satirical and witty speech upon the ungovernable passion of Americans for place—He seems to assume it as the basis of his whole discourse, that the desire for public office is a Crime—and with a very magnanimous patriotism, he pours forth his indignation and contempt without respect of persons both upon friend and foe, guilty of soliciting themselves or of having relations in Congress who solicit for them the distinctions and the profits which may be derived from the public service—Mr Quincy is not the first whom I have heard talk as if the consummation of human virtue consisted in the aversion or disdain to hold any public Office—Longe alia mihi est mens—It is my opinion that the wish even for the honours and emoluments of public office, is not in itself a culpable sentiment—that there is nothing disgraceful or despicable in avowing it, nor yet in seeking its gratification by fair and ingenerous means still less can I find it in my heart to despise the member of Congress, who by the same means endeavours to procure these advantages to his father, son or brother, if deserving of them, nor the father, son, or brother, who by the honest influence of such a member of Congress, should obtain them—In all this I see nothing despicable, and nothing dangerous, but the excess to which in common with other  human passions it is liable—I have too good an opinion of the social affections of Quincy himself, not to believe that when his son Josiah shall have grown to manhood, his father would without reluctance see him proscribed from all public service, an outcast from all the favours of his Country, because he the father might still be serving that Country as a member of Congress.
But although there is nothing dishonourable or unjust in the pursuit of public office, I always have considered and yet consider it as a passion which requires great moderation, self-management and controul—I never solicited any public office whatsoever, for myself, nor that I recollect for any of my relations—My own maxim has been to wait until called by the voice of my Country, and to repair without hesitation to the Post assigned me by that. I have in several instances indeed interfered to prevent the call, and in the single case have answered it by denial—But I have never withstood it, but from solid and cogent reasons, nor if my present Station should be the last to which I may ever be destined shall it be from any fastidious delicacy of mine, to reject any office for which I may be thought and may think myself suitably qualified—
After the multitude of high, honourable and profitable trusts which have been committed to me by my Country, I should indeed deserve the reproach of unbridled Ambition and of base ingratitude, could I not with cheerful heart, retire for the remainder of my days to private life, and see her henceforth distribute to others of her children, those favours of which she has hitherto been so lavish to me—And surely there never could be a time where for the peace and tranquility of my own life or for the future prospects of my children, I could withdraw from the responsibilities of the approaching Events, with more comfort and satisfaction.
I intend to send this letter by the vessel bearing your name, whose arrival here I announced to you in a former letter—I mentioned her as the fortieth American which had this year reached Cronstadt. She has been followed by so many others that the number now amounts to one hundred and twenty-nine—But how many of them will be permitted to get home is problematical—I shall write as long as any are allowed to pass.
Mr. Everett has left us, and is travelling for pleasure and improvement in Sweden, Dr: Gray goes in a fortnight or three weeks to pass the Winter in Holland and France—Our family will be reduced in numbers, and lose some of its agrémens—But then there is to enliven it the presence of an additional young Lady upon whom I ask your blessing. Being ever dutifully your’s.
A.


Title: From Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody to Abigail Smith Adams, 20 August 1811
From: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

My Dear Sister,
August 20th. 1811—

Last Tuesday the Horn blew to announce the Departure of the Mail an Hour sooner than the usual Time, which obliged me to break of abrubtly, even without any Signature—Though I suppose you would know from whom it came, by the badness of the writing, & local Circumstances—I find since my last Fall sickness that my hands tremble more than they used—
Not received a Letter from you, nor my Cousin, who promised she would write me a few Lines to let me know, how, & when she got home, makes me fear her dear Mother is not so well, & that you are sick—While my Friends remain so unwell, a few lines every week would be peculiarly acceptable—
Abby A. Shaw will go on to Boston this week, perhaps, to day, if it is not to hot weather, & the Stage very full—
I suppose Mr Greenleaf, & Family will be at Quincy as usual—And I think Abby had better not go to Quincy till after Commencement, as Mrs Cragie was very desirous of her being with her several weeks—And it may make it more inconvenient for her to get from Quincy to Cambridge, than from Boston—
I find Mr Richard Norton, is coming on with two of Judge Cranch’s Sons—which must be an addition to Brother Cranchs Family—were our dear Sister, but well, how easy, & how pleasant would everything be—
Brother Cranch wrote by Fridays mail to Mr Peabody, & I was supprized to find our dear Sister, was obliged yet to have Watchers— I was in hopes she did not stand in need of such Care—He writes, that he thinks her Lungs are yet sound, & that the cool weather advancing may have a favourable effect,
I sincerely wish his Hopes, may not prove vain—But by what you wrote I have my fears—The firm belief that the Judge of all the Earth, will do right, is my Consolation, amid all the Vicissitudes of Circumstances, & under all the Trials which may await us—
I have found a dark pair of Stockings & a handkercheif of Cousin Abbys, which I shall send my Mr Peabody, next week who will take the Tuesday Stage, & go on for Commencement, & is likely—it is the last he may ever take—Samuel Gilman has written a very pleasant Letter, & requested our attendance at his Chamber—I shall not go, though he feels to Mr Peabody, & me like a Child—May heaven Guard, prosper, & bless the virtuous Youths of the present Day—I believe Cousin changed her Stockings, & took those marked for Henneretta Coflin—She will be good enough to let me know, that I need not look further—
With proper respects to the President, & Love, to every branch of your lovely family / I subscribe yours most affectionaley


Title: From Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody to Joseph Barlow Felt, 21 August 1811
From: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw
To: Felt, Joseph Barlow

My amiable Friend,
Atkinson August 21st. 1811—

Company, unexpected, & avocations unavoidable, have for several Days occupied my whole Time, & left me but a few moments to address my absent Friend, & to thank him for his Letter, forwarded by Mr Cogswell—
I am rejoiced to hear both from Mr Nichols & you, that your College affairs, wear so favourable an Aspect—It must be consoling to Government, & lighten the oppressive Cares, of those who have the charge of rearing Youth to Literary pursuits, to moral Virtue, & religious important Truths—You very justly comment upon the different feelings, & Situations of those who had walked in Wisdom’s Path, & had engaged the Love & Esteem of the Worthy; & of such who had squandered Time in doing Nothing, or in “riotous Living,” in scenes of folly, & dissapation, had incurred Disgrace, forfeited the kind regards, & good wishes of their fellow Students—& must now quit the fair, pure found of Knowledge, mortified that they had not wit to apply, nor Taste to experience, or realize its Sweets—you mention seeing Mr Paine, since his unfortunate Suspension—Unfortunate indeed—Though with you, I sincerely hope his Folly, will prove a Beacon, to preserve him from future Evils—You are too well acquainted with my Temper, my feelings, & the ardent Interest I take in the welfare of Youth, not to know that their Errors cause a deep Sigh, & bitter pang to my Heart—Yet his subsequent honourable Conduct, soothed, & in some measure attoned for the Indiscretion of his Youth—I pity his good Father, & am grieved that Mary should add to the weight of Trouble, which he already has, in the Indisposition, of her, who ought to lessen his domestic Burdens, instead of increasing. I regret that one, who has ever been a member of our family, should place himself on such disagreeable Ground.—Ground, which in future he must tread with double Caution—for it is always more difficult to retrieve, than to keep your Rank—Yet however arduous, I hope he will have ambition, & virtue enough to exert every power of body, & Soul, & apply closely to his proper Studies—avoiding the dissapated, & the Intemperate of any Discription
Mr Gilman has given a very polite Invitation to our family to attend his Commencent,—He has the honour to recite a Poem—I have not heard the Subject—but hope whatever it is, he may be so happy as to do it justice—Mr Peabody I hope will go, Abby—is now at Boston—I shall, like Sarah, be in my Tent—
I know you will be grieved to hear our excellent Mr Vose, is now sick a bed, been confided with a billious Fever for 17 Days—we hope it has turned, but his pulse is slow, & feeble but I hope, out of danger—
I have always been glad for close applicants, when a vacation is at hand—They generally are worn down by hard Study, & their Health requires a release—I hope you soon will experience one of Sirs—friendly Salutations at the Hospitable Mansion you so affectionately mention—Here, share whatever our Call affords—“our frugal fare—our Blessing & repose”—
In behalf of Mr Peabody, I proffer you his best Wishes for your health, prosperity, & Happiness, with those of your Friend
Elizabeth PeabodyIt is late—excuse every inaccuracy—


Title: From Abigail Smith Adams to Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody, 24 August 1811
From: Adams, Abigail Smith
To: Peabody, Elizabeth Smith Shaw

my dear Sister
Quincy August 24th 1811

Truly my dear sister I blush and am asshamed that I have not written to you in replie to your Several kind Letters; I will not hunt for excuses, or pretend the extreem heat of the weather prevented, altho it was so oppressive that I could not do any thing but fan and pant. I have repeatedly said well I must write this day. abbe have you written—No Mam why have you not, you have leisure? “I do not know what to write. Not know? why cannot you tell your Aunt that you got home well on Sunday morning through the kindness of Mr Foster Who brought you out, that you had the happiness of finding your Mother better than your fears—altho much reduced pale and emaciated, that she still continues low weak and feeble, and has only been once out to ride, and that she is not yet able to sit up half the day, that she has frequent returns of pain in her Stomack, and that you fear she will be a long time before She recovers—that she find you So necessary to her that she knows not how to spair you, because always having been with her, you know better her wants and how to attend her than Sister Susan, who thus far is what miss Abbe ought to have written
Mrs Adams looks very misirable, and is So. I Sometimes think she will fall into the State of our Emerson She cannot take sufficient food to nourish her without great distress at her Stomack—She has frequent relapses—and pines away. her Stomack always assid. our dear Sister remains much as She has been for weeks past. Sometimes her cough better, then more distressing—last Sunday she rode down here, and was brought in to the House, put upon the settee and staid an hour. She afterwards rode too far, and was much fatigued She is too much enfeabled to judge for herself—She has a large addition to her family. Richard Norten, and Judge Cranch’s two sons, who I understand are to be with you. they have never been firm under the Paternal Roof, and are altogether unacquainted with the world—I hope they will not be brow beaten by the young Gentlemen, you have with you. as you can always have a choice, I would not keep any Boys who were not quite correct, or that could be made so in a short time—the hope of reclaiming is a laudible endeavour—but evil communications corrupt the morals, and deprave the understanding—these Childrens minds are pure at present—
Mrs Greenleaf and three of her children are comeing up to pass commencement week. I shall take  George and John here. we have not any late Letters from abroad—
I heard of cousin Abbes being in Boston and sent for her to come out, on Thursday when I sent the carriage for mrs Smith and Caroline who had been to pass a week at Newtown with mrs Guild. sshe declined comeing out untill after Commencement. we have invitations from Leut Govr Gray and from mr Mason & mr Otis. the president and I both excuse ourselves, but the younger part of the family will go
we hope to see mr Peabody here and that he will not be in such haste to return as usual—
Shall I pay to your daughter the balance due to you upon your account or Send it to you by mr Peabody?
I know not whether in her Mothers critical state she had better return again. I think I shall be better able to judge as the weather grows cooler—
adieu my dear Sister pardon past omissions—and I will endeavour that information shall follow—with due Respect to mr Peabody—I am / most affectionatly yours
Abigail Adamsyour son kept Sabbeth with us & grows very fat I have never Seen him So much So. he is very well


Title: From John Quincy Adams to Catherine Nuth Johnson, 24 August 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Johnson, Catherine Nuth

My Dear Madam,
St: Petersburg 24. Augst. 1811.

I wrote you the letter of which a copy is enclosed on the very day of my dear wife’s confinement.—I sent it under cover to the Secretary of State, by Mr. Richard Willing who sailed in the Bengal for Philadelphia.—He has been gone only two or three days, so that the copy may perhaps reach you sooner than the original
I ought in it to have acknowledged the receipt of your favour of 1. April, enclosing a letter for Catherine, and which had come to hand nearly three weeks sooner than that of 1. March.—We have since heard from you untill late in April, and of you, untill nearly the last of May.—With my last dispatch to the Secretary of State I enclosed a letter for you from Catherine.
The day after my wife’s confinement She was extremely ill, but since then has had a hitherto a better getting up than she has been accustomed to.—She has not yet left her chamber, but is now as well as we can expect, with a fair prospect of a speedy recovery. The child has enjoyed perfect health—They say She looks to much like her father to be handsome. I am not yet informed, what is to be her name—I hope her Mother’s.
I am Dear Madam, faithfully your’s.


Title: From William Cranch to Abigail Smith Adams, 1 September 1811
From: Cranch, William
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

My dear Aunt,
Washington Sep. 1. 1811.

I thank you most sincerely for your excellent letter of 5th. ulto. which I should have answer’d before, but for the sickness & removal of my family. The precarious state of my dear mother’s health, for some time past, has, I trust, in some measure prepared me for an event, which is certainly inevitable and which we know can not be long procrastinated. Indeed our term of existence here is so short, our enjoyments so unstable, our hopes so delusive, our anticipations so false, that it is as much the dictate of Philosophy as of Religion to trust but little to the future—to anticipate neither good nor Evil—but to say, in the language of our holy religion, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
I am thankful that her mind becomes illumined as her frame decays, and that she enjoys such a fine flow of spirits. I hope they may continue to gild the evening of her days.
I have received several letters from my father lately which indicate a calmness, a tranquility and a vigour of mind scarcely to be expected at his time of life, and in the situation of his family. I am thankful that he thus retains his faculties.
The great rains we have had, have made the season very sickly, especially in the neighbourhood, where I lived. The disease most prevalent is the bilious remittent fever. I have taken part of a house on the hill near the house built by the late Gustavus Scott who was one of the Commissioners of this city. The house formerly belonged to Mr. Holmead. The change of air must be considerable; at least we are out of the influence of the local causes to which in a great measure I attributed our bad health—I mean the stagnant water in the cellars of the unfinished houses—and in the brick yards, and the marsh of James’s creek, with which we were surrounded at the point.
I think I ought not to return to it again; and as I am to seek a new residence I have sometimes thought of removing to Alexandria, where rents are low & provisions cheap; and where I can have the benefit of good schools for my daughters without sending them to a boarding school; & where every thing is convenient, and society upon a scale better suited to our circumstances and habits. The district court, of which I am sole Judge, sits only in Alexandria.— The only disadvantage which I think of at present is, that I shall not find it so convenient to attend the Supreme Court to take notes of reports, and as if I resided in this city. Alexandria I believe is more healthy than the city.  The Ague & fever has not been known for many years, in the thick settled part of the town; and the bilious fever is very rare. I should be able to visit my land, in case I should improve it, without the heavy tax of the Bridge toll.
These are my principal reasons for thinking of a residence in Alexandria—but I am by no means determined.—Health, education, society, economy and convenience, and are considerations of the first importance in chusing a residence, and if the balance of these should be clearly in favour of Alexandria I ought to go there.
Eight Nine of my family have had the bilious fever this summer; although the season has not yet arrived when we generally expect it. We are all recovering but one servant who was taken two days ago. Mary has had no fever these last 36 hours—Nancy had a fever last night & great part of this day; but it seems now to have intermitted & we have begun to give her the bark.
I am happy to hear that Mrs. Smith and Caroline are with you & in health. Present her my best, and if she will accept them, my affectionate regards—as well as to your son, the two Mrs. Adams’s & Susan & Louisa; and accept for yourself and for my venerated Uncle, / the most respectful affection / of your obliged & grateful / nephew
W Cranch.


Title: From John Quincy Adams to Abigail Smith Adams, 10 September 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Adams, Abigail Smith

N. 24.
St: Petersburg 10. September 1811.

The first page of the enclosed Press-Copy of my last Letter is so faint that unless you should have received the original, before it comes to hand, I know not whether you will be able to read it—The second however is more plain, and contains the material information of the whole; the birth of my daughter—This information has since been repeated in letters to my father and my brother, dispatched by different vessels; some of which I trust will arrive—On the whole, it is remarkable how few of the letters which we have written to our friends or which they have written us have ultimately miscarried—Though I am not always fortunate enough to get an acknowledgment of the receipt of those I have written.—I have mentioned to my brother that the French Police at Hamburg had done me the honour to think one of my letters to him worth reading and keeping—And there is one to you N. 14. dated 28 February, which has probably failed also in the conveyance—I sent it to Mr Russell at Paris, to be forwarded and he wrote me that he should send it by the Flash, a vessel which was to have sailed from L’Orient in April. But Mr Patterson of Baltimore who has lately been here, and left Paris in May informed me that the Port of L’Orient had been blockaded ever since the month of April by the English, and that the Flash had never dared to go-off.—The last letter which we have from you is that of 8. June, to my wife—We have received none from America for a Month, and are afraid that we shall receive very few more before Winter—The Season for Vessels from the United States to arrive here with a probability of being able to return this year is already past, and that of their departure is close at hand—A fortnight ago there were upwards of one hundred American vessels laying in the single Port of Cronstadt—more than two thirds of them are already gone, and several are waiting only for a wind.—There is a new obstacle however to their passage out of the Baltic—Since Mr. Erving has arrived at Copenhagen, the Danish Privateers have had so little chance of succeeding in their depredations upon our trade, that some of them have tried another resource; they have obtained French Commissions, and taking vessels close at the passage of the Sound carry them into Copenhagen, and send their Papers to Paris—We know of two American Vessels, coming here, that have been thus taken, and will certainly not arrive this Season.—One of them belongs to Lieutenant Governor Gray.
We have heard from America, to as late a period as 6. July, when we are told that Mr: Pinkney and Mr: Foster had both arrived. There were on board of the Essex frigate several despatches and letters from me; and among the rest the original of my letter N. 12. the duplicate of which you received by a vessel from Copenhagen.
Yesterday we had the christening of our daughter—As the United-States have not among the usages of their diplomatic establishment; seen fit to adopt that of allowing a chaplain to their Ministers abroad, the Ceremony was performed by the Revd: Dr: Pitt, Chaplain to the English Church in this City, and according to the ritual of the Church of England—I should have preferred the mode of baptism, according to the practice of my fathers, to which I adhere, both in belief, and in Sentiment.—But I consider the rite itself as so essential, and the form as a matter so entirely subordinate, that in case of necessity, I would sooner have my child baptized by the forms of the Greek or of the Roman Catholic Church, than omit it altogether—The Sponsors were, our Consul Mr Harris a Quaker—Madam Bezema the Lady of the Portuguese Minister, a Roman Catholic, and Mrs: Krehmer, a Lady born of English Parents, and belonging to the English Church—That a Quaker and a Portuguese Roman Catholic should join with a Church Clergyman to baptize the child of a New-England Congregationalist at St: Petersburg the Capital of Russia, is an incident rather extraordinary in the annals of the World. We had the flag of the United States flying at the end of ou a pier extending from our garden out upon the river, and a company consisting of several of our Countrymen, with the Saxon and Westphalian Ministers, to witness the service.—The child was named after her mother Louisa-Catherine—I beg leave to recommend this incident to my honoured father, as a good theme for meditations upon Government.—If Mr: West or Mr: Copley had been of the party I should have proposed to them to make a Picture of it.
To-morrow is the festival of St: Alexander Newsky, one of the ancestors of the present Emperor, and his patron Saint. This Prince was born in the year 1220 and died in 1264—His pretensions to Sanctity as I find them recorded in History are founded upon two of his actions—The first was, defeating the Swedes in a pitched battle, on the Banks of the Neva, from which he also derived the name of Newsky—Alexander of the Neva—and the second was turning Monk on his death-bed—Neither of these deeds, was in the Spirit of that age, enough to make by itself a Saint—Almost all the Russian Princes for several centuries died monks—But they did not all win complete victories over the Swedes—It was the Battle of the Neva, rather than the Cowl, that obtained for Alexander the crown of glory.—It was certainly that battle too, which made him such a favourite with Peter the Great; who after accomplishing the Conquest of these Provinces from the Swedes, built his City of St: Petersburg, and founded a monastery within two miles of it, on the very spot (so at least he chose it should be considered) where Alexander had won the battle—to him he dedicated the monastery, and there he built a magnificent Church and archepiscopal Palace, where the metropolitan of the Empire resides—In honour of the same Saint he also founded an order of Chivalry, still subsisting as the second order of Russia, in point of distinction—Peter having done so much to keep this Saint in the fashion, his Successors have been emulous of the same devotion—The Empress Ann had the bones of the Saint transported to this Church, and deposited in a shrine of massive silver—Even Catherine of Anhalt-Zerbst not only gave his name to her grand-son the present Sovereign, but rebuilt the Church with increased Splendor, and enriched it with many costly ornaments and precious relics.—On the 30th: day of August Old Stile, of every year the Emperor and all the Imperial family go in solemn procession to this Church, and after attending the celebration of a religious solemnity, separately and in succession walk up and prostrate themselves before the shrine of the Saint, in Adoration.—No Strangers are invited to this celebration, but if any of the foreign Ministers chuse to attend, suitable places are assigned to them—I accordingly attended it last year, and my curiosity was so fully gratified, that I shall probably not repeat the visit now.—I should have regretted it much however had I not once seen it—The performance of the mass differs in some respects from that of ordinary occasions, but the most remarkable incident is the Ceremony of Imperial Adoration—The prostrations practiced under the Greek Church, are far more lowly than mere genuflexions. They consist not merely in falling upon the knees; but in bowing the head, and striking the forehead upon the pavement or floor—if I had not seen the Adoration of St: Alexander Nevsky, I never should have known, I do not say with what perfect decorum, but with what exquisite gracefulness, and what imposing dignity, it was possible for such an act as that to be performed by a beautiful Princess of sixteen—Yet in seeing her, was it not natural for a heretic to think, how much fitter the worshiper was for the object of such worship than he to whom it was paid?
It being what they call the Emperor’s name day, it is kept with high festivity at the Palace; and the present year as the last, the French Ambassador gives a great diplomatic dinner the day before, and the Chancellor of the Empire another, the day after—I am just called to dress for the first.
Before I go, I must say something to you about my children at home—You mention in your last Letter that George is getting aukward tricks and habits; which gives me some concern—Though I never sacrificed much myself to the Graces, and though I hold in utter contempt the doctrine that makes them the foundation of a system of education, yet I should be deeply mortified if either of my children should prove notoriously destitute of them—As the Graces are Ladies, they generally recommend those who pay them the most attention, at least to their own Sex: And as  the learned President Montesquieu observes, the ladies are the best judges of many qualities very essential to a man’s success in the world—It is upon the Ladies that I must entirely depend for giving this sort of polish to my boys, and I rely much upon your goodness in this respect to the two that are with you.
I am not easy under the idea of being entirely useless to their education myself—I should in no case take much share in the formation of their manners—But their morals are of my concern—I have in consequence of my reflections on this point written George a letter, which I intend shall be followed by others—As it will be upon topics beyond the research of his years, I presume he will not understand it; but as my plan is of considerable extent and susceptible of further enlargement I have thought it best to begin now, though at the risk of not being immediately understood. I have referred him to you for the explanation of any thing that he may find too hard.—But if his capacity should not yet be expanded enough even to receive such explanation, as is very possible, he may be allowed to put the letters upon file without troubling himself about them after a first perusal for the present
We are all in as good health as the Circumstances admit—Remember me dutifully to my father, affectionately to the family, and believe me ever faithfully your’s
A.


Title: From Abigail Smith Adams to William Smith, 12 September 1811
From: Adams, Abigail Smith
To: Smith, William,Smith, Hannah Carter

Quincy Sepbr 12 1811

Altho I cannot personally be with you, oweing to the Sickness in my own Family, to pay the last tribute of respect to the remains of your Dear Departed Son, be assured my dear afflicted Friends, that my Heart, my Thoughts, and my affections are with you, and that I do most tenderly Sympathize with you in this day of your visitation
May that all Mercifull Being, whose ways are not as our ways, heal the Breach made upon you, and impart to you that consolation which is not in the power of Earthly Friendship to bestow. we see but in part, but we Shall know hereafter
“wait the great Teacher Death and God adore”
virtuous, pleasent, and Lovely in Life He is gone to Brighter Realms to worship, and adore, altho calld upon as Believers and Christians to Resignation and Submission we are not forbiden to feel the hand which Smites us. a greater Character than Human, wept at the Death of a beloved Friend.
Let your consolation be that you Sorrow not, as those who have no hope
unto that Being who loved us and gave himself for us, in the full confidence that all his ways are Right, I commend you my Dear Friends, beseaching him to Support you and to pour the balm of consolation into your wounded bosoms
Be assured of the tenderest Sympathy of the President, and your truly afflicted Friend
Abigail Adams


Title: From Abigail Amelia Adams Smith to Benjamin Rush, 12 September 1811
From: Smith, Abigail Amelia Adams
To: Rush, Benjamin

Quincy 12 Septr 1811

you will I hope pardon the Liberty I have taken to address myself to you Sir upon a Subject which has become very interesting to myself. since I have been on a visit to my Parents, I have met with a volume of your Medical inquiries, in which are containd some observations upon the use of Arsenic in the cure of Cancers and schirrous complaints—
about May 1810 I first perceived a hardness in my right Breast just above the nipple which occasioned me an uneasy sensation, like a burning sometimes an itching & at time a deep darting pain through the Breast, but without any discolouration at all. it has continued to Contract and the Breast has become much smaller than it was. the tumor appears now about the size of a Cap and does not appear to adhere but to be loose—I applied to a Physician and he recommended me to apply a Plaister of the cicuta which I did and kept it on several weeks but did not find any good affect from it it appeard to me to increase the uneasiness I therefore took it off. I have also taken a considerable of cicuta in Pills, but I thought they produced a heaviness in my head & have for some time discontinued them I came to since I have been here I have consulted several Physicians upon the Subject they have all advised me not to make any outward application to it—and as it has not affected the State of my health they do not recommend me to use any medicine—Still I am uneasy upon the Subject—for I think I observe it becoming harder and a little redness at times on the skin Dr Warren who has seen it told me that in its present state he would not advise me to do anything for it but if it should enflame I had better apply for surgical aid—this is a remedy that I dont know in any Event I could consent to submit to—certainly I should wish to try every other possible expedient first. and if in the course of your researches you should have discovered any thing that you find of use in this state of it, you would confer a great obligation upon me by communicating it
I am Sir with great respect your obedient Servant
A Smith


Title: To John Adams from John Quincy Adams, 14 September 1811
From: Adams, John Quincy
To: Adams, John

N. 9.
Dear Sir.
St: Petersburg 14 September 1811.

Some time in the month of June last there was published in the Boston Patriot, a pretended State-Paper, purporting to be signed by the Duke of Cadore, addressed to His Excellency—as in extreme secrecy, and containing a common-place invective against the British Nation-Constitution, and Royal Family; mixed up with a panegyric upon the Duke of York, and the incendiary Jackson—a curse upon the murder of Louis 16 and his murderers; a dissertation upon Wicliff-Huss—Luther, and the price of Seats at Covent Garden Theatre; abuse upon Erskine, Cobbett, the Burdett party and ministerial opposition in England, and as the choicest effusion of gall, of which all the rest seems to be only the froth, an allusion to the Government of the United-States, as the “weakest and most contemptible of Governments.”
How the Editors of the Patriot can have been imposed upon to take and publish as a genuine State-Paper, what appears to me the most stupid because the most glaring forgery that I ever saw, is not for me to explain—They do not expressly warrant its authenticity; but they declare their own persuasion of it, not only from their confidence in the source from which they received it, but from what they consider as its internal evidence.
It appears to have been republished in many of the federal newspapers, in the United-States; whose Editors were doubtless highly delighted with the terms in which it speaks of their Government—I have it in the New-York Commercial Advertiser of 22. June, which has been sent me by Mr Russell from Paris, and in which the paragraph containing this insult is printed over a second time in a different page of the paper, with evident marks of exultation—There is also a little Comment of Sympathy and love for the English king and Constitution, natural enough for its place, but into which the Patriot, the original publisher had not been duped.
But the great fortune of this State-Paper was to be made in England—The London Courier of 30 July publishes it, as perhaps the most important State paper ever laid before the British Nation; and instead of speaking like the American editors, in terms of doubt or hesitation with regard to its authenticity, the Courier not only solemnly declares and repeats that it is beyond all question authentic, but undertakes to give a history of its publication—It says that during the last Autumn, (the piece is dated 30. October 1810) there appeared to be some wavering and irresolution in the policy of the Russian Cabinet—That the paper was then written and addressed by the Duke of Cadore to the Russian Ambassador at Paris, to be laid before his Government, in order to persuade the Emperor of Russia that the war with England must be continued, untill the British Constitution should be destroyed or the present royal family driven from the throne—That the Russian Ambassador accordingly sent it to his Court, where it did not prove successful—That the Russian Government, to let the United States know how their Government was spoken of by the French Minister of foreign affairs, and perhaps to have the paper made known in England, communicated it to Mr J. Q. Adams the American Minister at St: Petersburg, who transmitted a copy of it to his own Government; and also to his father, through whom it was first published.
From the Courier, a ministerial paper, this miserable fabrication was copied into many of the other English Newspapers, but in most of them is recognized as a forgery—The Courier persisted in asserting its authenticity, and in the tale of its having been transmitted by me, and published by you—A translation of it, was soon after published in the Moniteur, and copied into the Journal de l’Empire, with a few short Notes, in one of which it is declared to have been forged in England—A German translation, with the notes of the Moniteur has appeared in the Hamburg Correspondent, so that it has been now thoroughly circulated all over Europe together with the falsehood which ascribes its transmission from this Country to me, and its publication to you.
It was in the London Courier that I first saw it, and then considered it in the same light as it is viewed in the Note of the Moniteur—as a mere English forgery—I did not suspect that the imposture had ever appeared in the Boston Patriot, and I could not conjecture what motive could have prompted the Editor of the London Courier, to use my name as instrumental to the Circulation of so wretched a fable—Some days afterwards, I received a letter from Mr Russell, enclosing the New-York Paper, above-mentioned, and the Moniteur containing the translation—Since I know that the first publication was in the Boston Patriot, I am not so totally at a loss to imagine why the English Editors so boldly palmed your name and mine upon the public to avouch this infamous fraud, but I am not a little surprized that the Editor of the Patriot should have been misled to credit so far the authenticity of the pretended Memoir, as to have admitted it into his Paper, and to have avowed his belief that it was genuine. If the braying of the animal, had not been sufficiently audible to disclose the imposition of the Lion’s skin, I should really have thought that the Editor of the Patriot, would have discovered him by his ears.—If a dramatic author were to put in the mouth of a known character, sentiments I will not say so foolish and absurd, but so totally at War with the notorious sentiments of the person represented, he would be hooted off the stage for ignorance of the first principles of his art.—That there should have been in human Nature baseness enough to attempt this deception is not at-all remarkable, but that there should have been in men of worth and discernment, blindness enough to believe in it for a moment, is extraordinary.—I am not however at present of opinion that it was of English invention altogether—the Editor of the Patriot must know whence it came to him, and he may be sure it was a cheat practiced upon him—No such paper was ever written by the Duke of Cadore—or sent by the Russian Ambassador in France to this Country, or communicated by the Russian Ambass Government to me; or transmitted by me to any person in the United States, or, (without a particle of hesitation, I add,) first published through you.
It is the more to be regretted that the Patriot should have given countenance and currency to this trick of political swindling, because its intended effect, and so far it obtains credit, its real effect must be to propagate and strengthen those false opinions, and groundless jealousies, which the present English Ministry and their faction every where, are attempting to impose upon mankind—Ignorant or blind to the real state of the world, and to the necessity which every wise Statesman must feel of adapting his political system to it, the English Ministers of this day, have come to the avowal that their only plan for futurity is perpetual, or at least interminable War—They will neither discuss nor even listen to any proposition of Peace—And as in this long War, like that of the house of Saul, against the house of David, they are waxing weaker and weaker, while their adversary waxes stronger and stronger, they find the spirits of their people beginning to flag, they find and think it necessary to make them believe they are fighting for their existence, for their Constitution or for their Sovereign, when in truth they are only fighting for the Chateaux en Espagne of their Ministers—As the plain truth will not answer to justify their policy, they have recourse to such falsehoods, as they know to be best calculated to stimulate and to controul the Passions of their People—Swift in his Art of political lying complains that the French king and universal monarchy had been so prodigally brought out, instead of being kept like the bears for shew, once a year, that they had almost lost their effect of terror—But Nápoleon is a more durable bug-bear than Louis 14. and lavish as they have been of him for these nine or ten years, they have not yet worn him out.—The Bonaparte panic has been made a political engine in America too, where but for the Camel-swallow, and Ostrich maw of faction it would have been only ridiculous—With us too it has howled the song of War against his universal Empire, untill it grew hoarse upon the sky, and now when the whip-poor-will warble of Walsh and the raven croak of Pickering waste alike their sweetness on the desart air, at a moment when the lash of british outrage and insult is smarting in every honest vein, a gross, direct, and palpable forgery comes with unblushing face to turn the public indignation away from its proper object, and through the Boston Patriot obtains access to the public mind.
Although the use of my name in this piece of villainy, was first made in the London Courier, and does not appear in the American papers, it must in all probability have been suggested to the English Editors from America, and may have been intended by the original author of the spurious memoir, certainly with views of no friendship or kindness for me—The Courier has even been grateful enough to pronounce a panegyric upon yourself and me, wisely and ingeniously confounding us together as one and the same person.—I believe you will be as little ambitious as myself of such praise.
I have written to Mr: Russell at Paris, and declared to the French Ambassador here that the whole of the story, so far as my name is concerned, was false and destitute of all foundation—Count Romanzoff declares the same, as respects the Russian Government, and the Russian Ambassador at Paris has equally denied having ever received any thing like the pretended Memoir—I have no doubt you will be equally surprized as I was to find yourself vouched for as an authority in the Courier, to authenticate this deception.
I enclose under cover with this, a letter for my Son George, and one which I will thank you to forward to Mr Plumer, of New-Hampshire—I wrote, only four days since to my mother, and informed her of the baptism of my new born daughter by the name of Louisa-Catherine.—She is now a full month old, and has hitherto enjoyed perfect health—Her mother is also recovered from her Confinement, and as well as nursing usually admits. The rest of the family as healthy as the Season allows—Charles growing fast—Mr: Gray and Mr Jones leave us, in two or three days; for Paris.—
Accept my duty.
A.