 | Letters of Mrs. Adams, |  |
TO JOHN ADAMS.
I have to acknowledge a feast of letters from you
since I wrote last; their dates from August 19th
to September 1st. It is a very great satisfaction to
me to know from day to day the movement of Howe
and his banditti. We live in hourly expectation of
important intelligence from both armies. Heaven
grant us victory and peace; two blessings, I fear,
we are very undeserving of.
Enclosed you will find a letter to Mr. Lovell,[1]
who
was so obliging as to send me a plan of that part of
the country, which is like to be the present seat of
war. He accompanied it with a very polite letter,
and I esteem myself much obliged to him; but there
is no reward this side the grave that would be a
temptation to me to undergo the agitation and distress
I was thrown into by receiving a letter in his
handwriting, franked by him. It seems almost impossible,
that the human mind could take in, in so
mine in the space of a moment. I cannot describe
to you what I felt.
The sickness or death of the dearest of friends,
with ten thousand horrors, seized my imagination. I
took up the letter, then laid it down, then gave it out
of my hand unable to open it, then collected resolution
enough to unseal it, but dared not read it;
began at the bottom,—read a line,—then attempted
to begin it, but could not. A paper was enclosed,
I ventured upon that, and, finding it a plan, recovered
enough to read the letter; but I pray Heaven, I may
never realize such another moment of distress.
I designed to have written you a long letter, for
really I owe you one, but have been prevented by
our worthy Plymouth friends, who are here upon a
visit, in their way home; and it is now so late at
night, just struck twelve, that I will defer any thing
further till the next post. Good night, friend of my
heart, companion of my youth, husband, and lover.
Angels watch thy repose!
| Letters of Mrs. Adams, | |