 | Letters of Mrs. Adams, |  |
TO MRS. CRANCH.
Your letter by way of Amsterdam had a quick
passage, and was matter of great pleasure to me.
I thank you for all your kind and friendly communications,
by which you carry my imagination back
to my friends and acquaintance, who were never
dearer to me than they now are, though so far
distant from me.
I have really commiserated the unhappy refugees
more than ever, and think no severer punishment
need to be inflicted upon any mortals than that of
banishment from their country and friends. Were
it my case, I should pray for death and oblivion.
The consolation which Bolingbroke comforted himself
with would afford me little satisfaction; for,
though the same heavens were spread over me
and the same sun enlightened me, I should see the
heavens covered with darkness, and the sun bereft
of its splendor.
We reside here at this village, four miles distant
from Paris. It is a very agreeable summer situation,
but in winter I should prefer Paris, on many
accounts; but upon none more than that of society.
The Americans who are in France, and with whom
I have any acquaintance, all reside in Paris; they
would frequently fall in and spend an evening with
us; but to come four miles, unless by particular
invitation, is what they do not think of; so that our
evenings, which are very long, are wholly by ourselves.
You cannot wonder that we all long for the
social friends whom we left in America, whose
places are not to be supplied in Europe. I wish
our worthy and sensible parson could visit us as he
used to do in America; his society would be very
precious to us here.
I go into Paris sometimes to the plays, of which
I am very fond; but I so severely pay for it, that I
refrain many times upon account of my health. It
never fails giving rne a severe headache, and that in
proportion as the house is thin or crowded, one, two,
or three days after. We make it a pretty general
rule to entertain company once a week. (I do not
call a transient friend or acquaintance dining, by
that name.) Upon those occasions, our company
consists of fifteen, eighteen, or twenty, which commonly
costs us as many guineas as there are persons.
You will naturally be surprised at this, as I
was when I first experienced it; but my weekly
bills, all of which pass through my hands, and are
paid by me, convince me of it. Every American
makes his visit, and pays his respects, to the American
ministers; all of whom, in return, you must dine.
Then there are the foreign ministers, from the different
courts, who reside here, and some French
gentlemen. In short, there is no end of the expense,
which a person in a public character is obliged to
be at. Yet our countrymen think their ministers
are growing rich. Believe me, my dear sister, I
am more anxious for my situation than I was before
I came abroad. I then hoped that my husband, in
his advanced years, would have been able to have
laid up à little without toiling perpetually; and, had
I been with him from the first, he would have done
it when the allowance of Congress was more liberal
than it now is; but cutting off five hundred
[guineas] at one blow, and at the same time increasing
our expenses, by removing us from place
to place, is more than we are able to cope with, and
I sec no prospect but we must be losers at the end
of the year. We are now cleverly situated. I have
got a set of servants as good as I can expect to find;
such as I am pretty well satisfied with; but I abprehend,
that, in the month of January, we shall, be
obliged to give up our house, dismiss our servants,
and make a journey to England. This is not yet
fully agreed upon; but, I suppose the next letters
from the Court of England will determine it; and
this has been Mr. Adams's destiny ever since he
came abroad. His health, which has suffered greatly
in the repeated attacks of the fevers he has had,
genteel lodgings in Paris under twenty-five or
thirty guineas a month; which is much dearer than
we give for this house, besides the comfort of having
your family to yourself. When I speak of twenty-five
and thirty guineas per month, not a mouthful of
food is included.
As to speaking French, I make but little progress
in that; but I have acquired much more facility
in reading it. My acquaintance with French
ladies is very small. The Marquise de la Fayette
was in the country when I first came, and continued
out until November. Immediately upon her coming
into Paris, I called and paid my compliments to her.
She is a very agreeable lady, and speaks English
with tolerable ease. We sent our servant, as is the
custom, with our names, into the house, to inquire If
she was at home. We were informed that she was
not. The carriage was just turning from the door,
when a servant came running out to inform us that
Madame would be glad to see us; upon which Mr.
Adams carried me in and introduced me. The
Marquise met me at the door, and with the freedom
of an old acquaintance, and the rapture peculiar to
the ladies of this nation, caught me by the hand and
gave me a salute upon each cheek, most heartily
rejoiced to see me. You would have supposed I
had been some long absent friend, whom she dearly
loved. She presented me to her mother and sister,
who were present with her, all sitting together in
her bed-room, quite en famille. One of the ladies
gown. She is a middle-sized lady, sprightly and
agreeable; and professes herself strongly attached
to Americans. She supports an amiable character,
is fond of her children, and very attentive to
them, which is not the general character of ladies
of high rank in Europe. In a few days, she returned
my visit, upon which we sent her a card of
invitation to dine. She came; we had a large
company. There is not a lady in our country,
who would have gone abroad to dine so little
dressed; and one of our fine American ladies, who
sat by me, whispered to me, "Good Heavens! how
awfully she is dressed." I could not forbear returning
the whisper, which I most sincerely despised,
by replying, that the lady's rank sets her
above the little formalities of dress. She had on a
brown Florence gown and petticoat,—which is the
only silk, excepting satins, which are worn here in
winter,—a plain double gauze handkerchief, a
pretty cap, with a white ribbon in it, and looked
very neat. The rouge, 't is true, was not so artfully
laid on, as upon the faces of the American ladies
who were present. Whilst they were glittering
with diamonds, watch-chains, girdle-buckles, &c.,
the Marquise was nowise ruffled by her own different
appearance. A really well-bred French lady
has the most ease in her manners, that you can
possibly conceive of. It is studied by them as an
art, and they render it nature. It requires some
time, you know, before any fashion quite new becomes
ladies has the most taste and variety in it, of any
I have yet seen; but these are topics I must reserve
to amuse my young acquaintance with. I have
seen none, however, who carry the extravagance of
dress to such a height as the Americans who are
here, some of whom, I have reason to think, live at
an expense double what is allowed to the American
ministers. They must, however, abide the consequences.
Mr. Jefferson has been sick, and confined to his
house for six weeks. He is upon the recovery,
though very weak and feeble. Dr. Franklin is
much afflicted with his disorder, which prevents his
going abroad, unless when the weather will permit
him to walk.
"Do you say that Scott has arrived in England?"
said I to my friend, when he returned from
Paris, "and that Messrs. Tracy and Jackson have
received their letters by the post, and that we have
none? How can this be? News, too, of Mr.
Smith's arrival." Thus passed the day, and the
next which followed; but in the evening a letter was
brought for J. Q. A. from London, from Charles
Storer, informing us that he had received sundry
large packets from America; not being able to find
a private conveyance, he had sent them by the new
diligence, lately set up, which passed once a week
in that night, because a servant could not get them.
There was nothing to be done but to wait patiently
until the next morning. As soon as breakfast was
over, the carriage was ordered, and Mr. J. Q. A.
set off for Paris. About two o'clock he returned, and
was met with a "Well; have you found the letters?"
"Yes, he had heard of them, but could
not procure them; they refused to deliver them at
the post-office, because he had carried no proof that
the letters belonged to the family; he might be an
impostor, for aught they knew, and they were answerable
for them; he scolded and fretted, but all
to no purpose; they finally promised to send them
out in the evening to our hotel." O how provoking!
About eight in the evening, however, they
were brought in and safely delivered, to our great
joy. We were all together. Mr. Adams in his
easy-chair upon one side of the table, reading
Plato's Laws; Mrs. A. upon the other, reading Mr.
St. John's "Letters"; Abby, sitting upon the left
hand, in a low chair, in a pensive posture;—enter
J. Q. A. from his own room, with the letters in his
hand, tied and sealed up, as if they were never
to be read; for Charles had put half a dozen new
covers upon them. Mr. A. must cut and undo them
leisurely, each one watching with eagerness. Finally,
the originals were discovered; "Here is one
for you, my dear, and here is another; and here,
Miss Abby, are four, five, upon my word, six, for
you, and more yet for your mamma. Well, I fancy
"Are there none for me, Sir?" says Mr. J. Q. A.,
erecting his head, and walking away a little mortified.
We then began to unseal and read; and a rich
repast we had. Thank you, my dear sister, for
your part of the entertainment. I will not regret
sending my journal, uncouth as I know it was; to
friends, who so nearly interest themselves in the
welfare of each other, every event, as it passes,
becomes an object of their attention. You will
chide me, I suppose, for not relating to you an
event, which took place in London; that of unexpectedly
meeting there my long absent friend; for,
from his letters by my son, I had no idea that he
would come. But you know, my dear sister, that
poets and painters wisely draw a veil over those
scenes, which surpass the pen of the one, and the
pencil of the other. We were, indeed, a very,
very happy family, once more met together, after a
separation of four years. For particular reasons
we remained but one day in England, after the
arrival of Mr. A. We set off on Sunday morning,
as I believe I have before related, in a coach, and
our two servants in a post-chaise. As we travelled
over the same part of the country which I had before
described in my journey up to London, I was
not particular in relating my journey to Dover. We
were about twelve hours in crossing to Calais.
The difference is so great between travelling
through England and through France, that no person
separated only by a few leagues. Their horses,
their carriages, their postilions, their inns! I know
not how to point out the difference, unless you will
suppose yourself a stranger in your own country,
first entertained at Mr. Swan's, then at General
Warren's, and next at Bracket's tavern. Such is
the difference, I assure you. From Calais to Paris
you pass through a number of villages, which have
the most miserable appearance, in general; the
houses of the peasants being chiefly low, thatched
huts, without a single glass window. Their fields
were well cultivated, and we saw everywhere women
and children laboring in them. There is not,
however, that rich luxuriance, which beauteous
England exhibits, nor have they ornamented their
fields with the hedge, which gives England a vast
advantage, in appearance, over this country. The
place most worthy of notice between Calais and
Paris, is Chantilly, where we stopped one day; but,
as I was so much fatigued with my journey, I made
no minute of what I saw there, though richly worth
a particular description. I must, therefore, request
the favor of Mr. J. Q. A. to transcribe a few incorrect
minutes from his journal, which will give you
some idea of what we saw there. I have not a wish
to repeat this journey in the winter season; but I
greatly fear we shall be obliged to do so, as England
does not choose to treat in France. This, however,
you will not mention at present; as I cannot yet
sent to that Court.
This is the twelfth of December; and a severer
snow-storm than the present is seldom seen in our
country at this season. I was pleased at the appearance,
because it looked so American; but the poor
Frenchman will shrug his shoulders.
I feel very loth to part with my son, and shall
miss him more than I can express; but I am convinced
that it will be much for his advantage to spend
one year at Harvard, provided he makes, as I have
no reason to doubt, a suitable improvement of his
time and talents; the latter, the partiality of a mother
would say, no young fellow of his age can boast
superior; yet there are many branches of knowledge
in which he is deficient, and which, I think, he will
be best able to acquire in his own country. I am
sure he will acquire them with more pleasure to himself,
because he will find there companions and
associates. Besides, America is the theatre for a
young fellow who has any ambition to distinguish
himself in knowledge and literature; so that, if his
father consents, I think it not unlikely that you
will see him in the course of next summer. I
hope I shall follow him the next spring. Europe
will have fewer charms for me then, than it has at
present.
I know not how to bid adieu. You did not say a
word of uncle Quincy. How does he do? My
duty to him; tell him, if Mr. A. was in Braintree, he
would walk twice a week to see him. Madam Quincy,
Wibird, who, I think, misses me as much as I do his
friendly visits.
| Letters of Mrs. Adams, | |