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XI PEEPS INTO THE POST BAG
TWO POUNDS FOR CARRYING ONE LETTER — WHY PEGGY SHIPPER SIGHED — HOW PETER MUHLENBERG PLAYED PRODIGAL — THE CLEVER LADIES OF PHILADELPHIA — A DUN FOR A DEER — PROVING A FISH STORY — CONGRESS A “MOST RESPECTABLE BODY” — WHY FRANKLIN WAS SARCASTIC IN these days of efficient mail
service and cheap postage it is difficult to realize that these blessings are
comparatively modern. The early residents of Philadelphia were forced to be
content with infrequent, uncertain, expensive transportation of letters. It is
matter of remark, then, that they made such good use of their limited opportunities.
They paid gladly the cost of sending a message to England or to other colonies.
Of course the writing of a letter was far more of a ceremony than it is to-day.
Frequently the spare time of days was given to the composition of one letter,
and usually the recipient had something worthy of examination. As late as 1755 the rate for a
letter to England was, for a single sheet, one shilling; for two sheets, two
shillings; for three sheets, three shillings, and for an ounce, four shillings.
In addition local postage had to be paid to the port city. Mails were sent once
each month. A hint of the great expense of the
local transport of letters for even a comparatively short distance is afforded
by a message sent by Thomas James to James Steele, from Philadelphia, in
November, 1735. He asked for seven pounds for “my Trouble of coming up from the
Capes”; then he added, “and for my Going down to New Castle I am sure is not
worth less than three Pounds.” This opinion as to the proper charge he based on
the fact that he “had from a Certain Mercht in this town Seven Pounds for
Coming up from the Capes with only a Bare Packet of letters — and from Geo.
Claypoole Five Pounds for Carrying one Single letter down to ye Capes.” In spite of the plea for the ten
pounds, but seven pounds were paid for the service. Perhaps this was because
funds were scarce in the pockets of the man for whom the service in question
was rendered. Financial stringency was a common
complaint among the settlers on the Delaware. Even the leader of the community,
William Penn himself, was compelled more than once to postpone the payment of
just debts. A letter written by him in August, 1683, was occasioned by a
difficulty of this sort. This letter, as it has come down to us, is addressed
simply; “Kind ffriend.” It read: “I was not willing to lett the
Bearer Wm Lloyd goe without a Letter directed to my Friend West for though I am
a Man of Noe Cerimony, I vallue my Self a little upon sence and Gratitude. I
had a very Civill Letter from ye which Adds to my Obligations, but having to
doe wth a man neither Cruell nor Indigent, I hope he will trust tell I am able
to pay; and to doe this Noe Occation shall Slipp me and Indeed I had not bin
soe Long Silent, If my own Expectations of Seeing York had not by your Governts
delay bin frustrated Pray lett me have ye Continuance of thy friendship, &
give me Reason to believe in by favouring my Commissioners wth ye Mawhawks and
Simicar Indians about some backe Lands on ye Susquehannash River there may be
many yt better tell there tayle, but None more Sincerely & affectionately
esteems ye yr thy Verry True Friend W. P.”
The next plunge into the Colonial
post-bag brings to light a letter written in 1742 to a junior member of the
Penn family connection, “Master Freame,” who was a grandson of William Penn.
Richard Hockley was the writer, and he clothed some good wholesome advice with
a good deal of humility: “I hope you will bear with me if I
take it upon me to give you a little advice in the best manner I am capable,
& that is as you are at ye same school wth your Cozen Jackey Penn &
will I hope have the same Education you will on your part endeavour to live in
Strict Unity & Friendship wth him & desire a Spirit of Emulation may
arise in your Breast to equal him in all his study’s & Exercises. I have a
very good regard to you Both as decendants of a Worthy Honourable Family to
whom I am under the greatest Obligations & hope you will Both Endeavour to
imitate their Worthy Examples, but you must claim a greater Share of my
Affections as I have pass’d away a many pleasing Hours in your Innocent
Company; & I cant bear to think that you Shou’d be Eclipsed in any one
Virtue or Qualification that becomes a Gentleman & a Descendant of the
Family to which you belong.” One of the Philadelphia homes to
which descendants of the “Worthy Honourable Family” delighted to go was
Stenton, where James Logan welcomed all comers, whether rich or poor, high or
low, civilized or savage. In the home were his two grown
daughters, Hannah and Sarah. The lover of Hannah and a friend of Sarah was John
Smith, who evidently was appreciative of everything his friends did for him. In
1747 he wrote to Sarah to thank her for a kindness she had done him. We are not
told what that kindness was, but there are so many glimpses of the writer’s
nature in his letter that it is worth while to read what he wrote: “My Dear Friend “I am not very well to-day otherwise
should have waited upon thee, which I hope will apologize for my writing. I
have lately heard of an Instance of thy Friendship for me, which hath made a
very deep Impression on my mind. The kind and good natured manner with which
thou was pleased to speak of me to an Antient Friend of ours in the Country
[her father], as it was at a time when such a Character did me the most Service
that it ever could, So it gives me an opportunity to know that true friendship
may subsist without much outward show of it, and will manifest itself ready
& willing to do service, when Occasion offers, Even when there is no probability
of its coming to the Knowledge of the person so obliged. I thought I had my
friends at Stenton, but cannot find that any ever gave such Testimonies of
their Regard, as the Instance I am now speaking of. I wish I may have it in my
power to shew thee by Actions as well as words, how much I esteem myself in thy
debt. “I am dear Sally Thy Loving &
obliged Friend.”
By no means all the letters the
postman carried were of the stately nature affected by John Smith. Some of them
were full of the gossip of the town. In fact, invaluable aid is given to those
who study the everyday life of the people in Colonial days by many letters like
that sent in 1748 by John Ross to Dr. Cadwalader Evans. The bits of news he
wrote would have satisfied anyone who was hungering for a word as to how old
neighbors were getting along. After mentioning the fact that one common
acquaintance was to be married to “the young widow that lived at Harriet Clay,”
and that “Old Doctor Kearsley is to be married this week to Mrs. Bland Mrs.
Usher’s niece that lives near the Burying ground,” he went on to say: “Doctor Bond is gone to spend the
winter at Barbadoes in a low state of health; it is thought he will continue
there if the climate agrees with him — Last week Judah Foulke had a son born —
no small joy — About 20 of us baptized it last Monday at John Biddle’s in hot
arrack punch — and his name is called Cadwalader — John Smith has passed our
meeting with Miss Hannah Logan — I would give you more, now my hand is in, if I
could recollect . . .” Nowadays the complaint is made that
a man cannot read any real news in a letter. Evidently the race has
deteriorated in this respect since the days of John Ross. At any rate he makes
a better success as a disseminator of gossip than Peggy Shippen Arnold who
wrote, just after the British evacuated Philadelphia: “Joesy must have looked perfectly
cha’ming in the Character of Father. I wish he’d pay us a Vis as I make no
doubt he’s much improv’d by being so long in Maryland. Mr White tells me his present
flame is a Miss Peggy Spear of Baltimore you may remember her she lived at Mrs.
Smith’s a pretty little girl enough. What think you of the Weather, wont it be
a bar to our hopes? I much fear it will Hi Ho I cant hlp sighing when I think
of it. Oh! the Ball, not a lady there the Committee of real Whigs met in the
afternoon & frightened the Beaux so much that they went around to all the
ladies that meant to go to desire they’d stay at home, tho’ it seems the
Committee had no thoughts of molesting being all of their own Kidney. I’m
delighted that it came to nothing as they had the impudence to laugh at US.” Not all the writers of the old-time letters were lighthearted. There were times when the carefully written message was put together by one whose heart was breaking. The story of one such heartbreak began with a letter written by Dr. Henry Melchior Muhlenberg to his friend the court chaplain Ziegenhagen in London. To him he said: “Your Reverence will kindly permit
me to make a humble inquiry and request of you. My oldest son, Peter, is
entering his sixteenth year. I have had him taught to read and write German and
English, and, after the necessary instruction, he had been confirmed in our
Evangelical Church; morever, since I have been in Philadelphia, I have sent him
to the Academy to learn the rudimenta linguae latinae. But now I write
in great anxiety on account of the corruption among the impudent and
emancipated youth of this city, and I am not able to provide for his welfare
any longer. It would be a great scandal and offense in my position, and to ;the
ruin of his own soul, if he should fall into wild ways. Is there not an
opportunity . . for him to learn surgery, or even an honest trade? Or will the
blessed Institution in Glaucha by the power of God, reach so far as to provide
for him? Next spring I shall have a good opportunity to send him hence to
London.” So to London Peter was sent in 1763,
and with him were the two brothers nearest to him in age, Friedrich and
Heinrich. Peter soon after entered the preparatory school of the University of
Halle. Here all went well for a time, but about a year later a tutor reproved
him in a way that the high-spirited Peter thought was insulting. So the boy
boxed the tutor’s ears. Fearing the inevitable punishment he fled and enlisted
in a passing regiment. When the news of the disaster came
to Philadelphia, the tortured father wrote a pitiful letter to G. A. Franke at
Halle: “Dearest Benefactor: “. . . I see . . . with sorrow that
my eldest boy has allowed himself to be overcome by the world, the flesh, and
the devil, and gone headlong to destruction, and that the youngest son is not
far behind. . . . It mortifies and bows me to the ground with shame to find
that your Reverence and other children of God have been caused so much care,
anxiety, and vexation by the sending abroad of my perverse offspring, all of
which I am in no condition to make amends for . Lest the cause of God should
suffer harm or injury through me and mine, I am obliged to sever my connection
with the church, and to leave it, after God, to be cared for in the future by
those revered ones in authority . . . and betake myself to a place where I can
bring up my children rightly, and devote the rest of my strength to the most
abandoned of mankind. “. . . According to the English law,
the parents have this advantage, that a son cannot engage in anything before
his majority without his father’s consent. If, before this time, a boy enlists
or contracts marriage without his father’s consent, such action is void, and
the father can either put him in the House of Correction, or sell him until his
Majority. . . .If my boy had played me this trick here, I would have sold him
as a servant until his majority.” A friend of the Muhlenberg family, a
British Colonel, discovered Peter in a garrison in Hanover. After securing his
release, he sent him to America, where he arrived in 1766. It is recorded that,
in spite of his harsh letter, Dr. Muhlenberg received the prodigal with open
arms. Peter thereupon asked to go into the army, but he was persuaded instead
to receive training at home for the Church. So careful and wise was his
father’s training that the son was ready for ordination in 1768. In 1772 Dr. Muhlenberg had further
evidence of the wisdom of his course in devoting himself so assiduously to the
welfare of his sons, for on February 23 of that year he was able to write: “My son Friedrich, a stricter
Lutheran than Peter, lets me have a distant hope, that if God, in His great
mercy and grace, preserves him, strengthens him by His spirit, and promotes his
growth, he may become in the future a fellow worker in the Philadelphia Church.
He has by nature an honest heart, some experience of God’s grace, a tolerably
clear head, a sound stomach and moderate bodily organs. He can endure hardship
and is more accustomed to the American climate than a born European; he has a
fine, clear, penetrating voice for Zion, and family connections by means of
which he can by Divine grace be settled. He has already made one or two trials
in his poor little congregations, which pleased me well, and has been over
hasty once or twice, with good intentions, however, and I willingly overlooked
it and endeavoured to show him the right way, for young soldiers sometimes want
to discharge their guns before they are loaded, from a courageous anxiety to
kill the enemy before they can hit him.” William Penn would have been
delighted with these letters of a father eager for his children’s welfare, for
the great founder was himself a loving father, as specimens of his letters to
his children show. One of his fatherly letters was written to “My dear Springet “Be good, learn to fear god, avoide
evil, love thy books, be Kind to thy Brother & Sister & god will bless
thee & I will exceedingly love thee. farewell Dear Child. My love to all ye
Famely & to Friends. Thy Dear Father.” Again he wrote to his daughter: “Dear Letitia “I dearly love ye, & would have
thee sober, learn thy book & love thy Brothers. I will Send thee a pretty
Book to learn in. ye Lord bless thee & make a good woman of thee. fare
well. “Thy Dear Father.” A third letter in the series: “Dear Bille “I love thee much, therefore be
Sober & quiet, and learn his book, I will send him one. so ye lord bless
ye. Amen. “Thy Dr. Far:” One hundred years later there lived
in Philadelphia a father who knew how to win the confidence of his daughter.
This man was General “Mad Anthony” Wayne. In 1786 he wrote to his daughter Margarita
a letter that must have brought great joy to her loyal heart: “Pardon me my dear Girl for so long
a Silence Occasioned by a variety of disagreeable circumstances all of which I
supported with steady fortitude — except the death of my long tried nearest
& dearest friend & Neighbour Major General Greene. “. . . Pray write without reserve
make me your friend & confident & be assured that nothing in the power
of a fond Parent will be wanting to constitute the true happiness of a Daughter
who I am confident will prove herself worthy of it. “ Believe me my Dear Girl yours most
sincerely “Anty Wayne.”
And the father in his turn had the
joy of receiving from his daughter a warm and tender letter: “My Dear and Honoured Papa “I thank my Dear Papa for the good
advice he gives me in every letter respecting my conduct in this life; I shall
in every respect behave myself in such a manner as to gain the good opinion of
all my friends and acquaintances; and hope at a later day to resign myself
without fear. I hope my Dear Papa will not be displeas’d with me in being so
long absent from Mrs. Kearney’s. It was with friends advice. You write me Papa
to speak my sentiments therefore shall informe you that every persone thinks
Mrs. K board is very expensive, and I thought I wou’d have Papa’s opinion it is
a Guinea a week. “. . . I have seen my Brother, he is
very hearty & comes on fast in his learning he is at present studying
Greek. I think your letter Papa will encourage him to learn, as he often wish’d
he cou’d receive a letter from you. “Before a conclusion I must once
again show Papa how greatly I am in gratitude & in duty bound to thank him
for his kind protection and how void of understanding shou’d I be if I was not
to follow his advice and example and try to make myself worthy of his paternal
Friendship . . . It makes me look back with sorrow, when I think what a great
loss a Father is, for example Aunt Sally’s family what a loss as these poor
orphans met with, to loose a Father just when they had come to know the good of
one. Papa we Can’t prize health too much, it is a very valuable Blessing, &
I hope you have a reasonable share of it . . “With every mark of respect I am my
dear Papa’s Dutiful & affectionate Daughter.” It is fitting that these letters
exchanged between father and daughter should be followed by a message sent in
1813 by General Andrew Porter of Harrisburg to his son James, who was attending
school in Philadelphia: “Dear James “ . . Let your purchases of books be
of those of the law, and your studies confined to that profession, until your
acquirements become conspicuous. Your services will then be sought after, and
your talents appreciated If you pay attention to various things and your
pursuits are diversified, you will never rise to the head of your profession,
and to be a pettifogger would be more disgraceful than to be a poor day
laborer. You have talents and acquirements that promise fair to raise you to
eminence, and no doubt will, if you confine them to the profession of the Law.
A good character, amiable disposition, and superior acquirements, with your
talents, will no doubt raise you to the height of your ambition. . “I am now grown old. A very few
years more, and the anxiety and advice of your father will cease forever. Be
not too credulous, and trust not the plausable profession of men too far, lest
you purchase experience too dearly. Think for yourself and mark out your line
of conduct with wisdom and prudence.” The fortunate son of such a father
profited by the advice so earnestly given, for he lived to become one of the
state’s ablest lawyers. He was later a member of President Tyler’s cabinet,
where, it was said, Webster alone was superior to him. Wisdom of a different sort is to be
seen in another family letter, that sent in 1781 by Miss Rebecca Franks to her
sister Abigail, Mrs. Andrew Hamilton. At the time of writing she was in
Flatbush, Long Island, from where she made frequent visits to New York. She was
a loyal Philadelphian, however, and New York’s charm could not wean her from
her love for the city on the Delaware. She said: “. . . I will do our ladies, that is
Philadelphians, the justice to say they have more cleverness in the turn of an
eye than the N. Y. girls have in their whole composition. With what ease, have
I seen a Chew, a Penn, Oswald, Allen and a thousand others, entertain a large
circle of both sexes, and the conversation without the aid of cards not flag or
seem the least bit strain’d or stupid, Here, or more properly speaking in N. Y.
you enter the room with a formal set curtsey and after the how do’s, ‘tis a
fine, or a bad day, and those trifling nothings are finished all’s a dead calm
till the cards are introduced, when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all
the matrons and they seem to gain new life. The misses, if they have a
favourite swain, frequently decline playing for the pleasure of making love —
for to all appearances ‘tis the ladies and not the gentlemen that show a
preference nowadays. ‘Tis here, I fancy, always leap year. For my part that am
used to quite another mode of behaviour, I cannot help shewing my surprise,
perhaps they call it ignorance, when I see a lady single out her pet to lean
almost in his arms at an Assembly or play-house, (which have too often seen
both in married and in single), and to hear a lady confess a partiality for a
man who perhaps she has not seen three times . . . . . . I shall send a pattern of the
newest bonnet, there is no crown, but guaze raised on wire, and quite pinched
to a sugar loaf at top, — the lighter the trimming the more fashionable . . .” Probably the sprightly Miss Franks
had commissions to execute for her Philadelphia friends. It would be difficult
to find a post-bag that does not contain requests to buy something or a message
from one who has tried more or less conscientiously to satisfy the friend who
has made the request. Away back in 1702, Robert Carter, of
Philadelphia, sent to Jonathan Dickinson a letter of the latter sort: “I received thine wherein thee
requested to buy a Deer of me by Tom pryor and he not having oppertunity to
send desired me to convey it to Robert Barber, I considering it might be
hazardous of the loss of him in a straing place am willing to acquaint thee
that it will be best to convey it at once to Towne or into the vessel, as to
the price if through divine providence thou arrive at thy desiered port thou
mayest make me some small returne according to thy pleasure, so with dear love
to thee & thy wife “I am thy very Loveing Friend.” To the same Jonathan Dickinson
Rachel Preston, sent from Philadelphia, in 1707, a supply of goods of which she
wrote: “Sum accident haping which brought
pattrick back after he left this plaace with Intentions to proced his viage
which has given me an oppertunity to put on borde a small box derected to be
left with your brother Gomersell wherein is four botells of Syrup of Cloves
three of Rose watter three Rose Cakes two dear skins which I got thomais
griffith to chuse as ye best to be had in ye town. . . . I . . . am not out of
hopes of having a litell more to send with ye huney as soon as any new comes
in, which with Indeared love conclude this . . shall subscribe your affectional
friend tho much disordered at present.” From Burlington, New Jersey, in 1781,
John Cox had a delicate mission to perform, in a letter to Hannah Pemberton of
Philadelphia. He began, very diplomatically, as far as possible from the main
purpose of the letter: “Dear Cousin “It was a fortunate Circumstance
that thy sweet little form was not deposited in our Sleigh, for we never
reach’d the habitation of Fidelia till Nine O’clock, very cold & wet. I
have not time now to expatiate on the manifold wretchedness of our calamitous
situation in crossing Ankokas Creek, and other et ceteras, that shall be the
subject of a future letter. In this, I take the liberty of tresspasing on thy
time to request on behalf of a lady — a genteel Stranger in this Town — that
thee will be good enough to speak for a pair of the very best and most fashionable
Stays, and get them finish’d as soon as may be. I have been often press’d to
take this Commission, and as often evaded it, lest , should not execute it to
satisfaction — but she insists on my taking it under my Care, & I promised
to write to some lady of my acquaintance in the City, on the subject. I should
have made some enquiry when in Town, but it escaped my Memory. If thee can
recollect the size of Kitty Lawrence, it will be a guide to thee in the form
&c. perhaps thy own size will be as good a model.” . . . It was a different sort of
commission that Richard Peters sent to Jonathan Jones from Belmont in 1814, but
it was in its way quite as delicate; only a brave man will attempt to get the
truth of a fish story. Yet such a request the genial judge made: “At our last meeting you were so
good as to promise you would see Mr. Hayes & procure his Account of the
Shad caught in Schuylkill after having been marked in a preceding Season. The
fact is singular —, & I had it well ascertained to me, that similar Facts
had before happened. I wish to be fortified in my Communication of it to the
Philadelphia Society, by Testimony so reputable as that of Mr. Hayes, who
perhaps is reluctant at writing; tho’ I only want a plain narrative. I must beg
of you to take an early opportunity of calling on him and in a letter
communicate to me the Facts. I think 35 were marked & 25 caught — so I
understood him to say. “Relate all circumstances — how
marked — where and at what time caught. “Mr. Hughes was to inform me about the
3 Bushels of Chimney Swallows, which were smothered . . at a Mr. J. William’s
near the Gulph. Can you get the Facts on the Subject? But one at a time you
will think enough.” For many years there were more
important things than fish stories to investigate or commissions to fill at the
city markets. During the generation from 1755 to the close of the Revolution
the subject of letters was apt to be the troubled state of the times. Thus
Sally Armitt wrote in 1755 to Susanna Wright, pleading with her to seek safety
by coming from the country to the hospitable Armitt home in Philadelphia: “It is impossible to express the
uneasiness that I am under on the account of your Family, I wish you would come
to town, as it must be more dangerous on the river, dear Susy we have Several
Spare rooms which you shall be very welcome to and we shall take it as a
favour. I know thee would not chuse to be in a Family were thee could not make
free, dear Susy, the shall be as if at home in our House, but if you chuse not
to be with Your Friends, and would take a house, we have a great deal of new
furniture that was made before my daddy dye’d, which you shall be exceeding
welcome to while you are in town.” In 1766 Lambert Cadwalader of
Philadelphia, wrote to George Morgan, of Pittsburgh, a brief message that
showed the intensity of feeling in the colony because of the opposition of the
mother country: “I have now the pleasure of
communicating to you the joyful news of the repeal of the Stamp Act, news that
almost calls back youth to the aged, gives health and vigour to the sick and
infirm . . . America is again free! God bless her; long may she remain so.” In 1774 there came out of
Philadelphia the tidings, written by William Redwood to William Ellery, that
freedom seemed nearer than ever: . . . I have had an opportunity of
hearing the sentiments of all the Gentlemen Delegates from the Several
Provinces now in the city, Respecting the unhappy Differences between G.
Britain and the Colonies, and they appear to be firm in the Cause of Liberty,
they are all very free and conversable as the Congress will be held in
Carpenter’s Hall which is directly opposite my House, I shall have an
opportunity of hearing from time to time how they go on, I apprehend they will
be the Most Respectable Body that ever met together in North America.” The day came when the Revolutionary
army was in camp. Then Edward Tilghman, Jr., sent to Benjamin Chew a
requisition for some of the things he needed for his health and the better
service of his country: “Some time ago I wrote for severall
Things — The Hunting Shirt I do not now want — would write for all the other
Things . . . A Horse I must have . . . My Leather Breeches must be washed and
sent . . . & with them my Boot-Buckles . . . a buff Waistcoat with a narrow
Lace & a Scrub Coat to ride in rain with, Two 30 Dollar Bills in a Letter
well secured. My Cutteau and Belt. The Waist Coat should have the lace taken
off I think and cut so as to make a bell regimental Waist coat & Lace sold
for Epilets . . . I have six shirts, two more would not be amiss & Handkfs
2 pr Stockings fit for Boots . . .” In an old chest, bought at auction
in Philadelphia a few years ago, the purchaser discovered under a false bottom
two commissions to officers who served in the Revolution as well as half a
dozen letters from one of these officers, Captain William Steel, to his wife in
Lancaster. One of these letters, dated in Philadelphia, July 30, 1776, was
addressed to “My Dear and Loving Companion,” The message she read was as follows:
“I wrote to you the other day But it rejoices me to have this opportunity to write to you this evening tide or the morning tide we set sail for Trenton and from that to Amboy at headquarters the people are flocking in here like bees . My dear wife rejoice that you have your dear father and mother to live with there is many men here left their Wives in a poor situation and must go on there is no help for them Dear wife I thought you would not miss any good opportunity to write to an absent friend to let me know how you and my little son is in particular and all the rest of the family . . . I would not forget you so soon, but I ascribe it to your grief yt you aint in a capacity to write or else you would not have neglected me My dear let the fear of God be always before your eyes, pray to him for supporting grace and his kind protection over you that both may enjoy peace and tranquility until I see you both . . . this from your loving husband.”
A final dip into the post-bag brings
to light two letters which are in great contrast. One of them was written by
Benjamin Franklin, though one would not readily ascribe it to him if it did not
carry his name. It was written in the third person to an artist who had
grievously disappointed the philosopher: “Dr. Franklin presents his
Compliments to Mr. Meyer, and prays him not to detain any longer the Picture
from which he was to make a Miniature, but return it by the Bearer. Hopes Mr.
Meyer will not think him impatient, as he has waited full Five Years, and seen many
of his Acquaintance, tho’ applying later, served before him. Wishes Mr. Meyer
not to give himself the trouble of making any more Apologies, or to feel the
least Pain on Act. of his disappointing Dr. Franklin, who assures him, he never
was disappointed by him but once, not having for several Years past since he
has known the Character of his Veracity, had the smallest dependence upon it.” Charles Norris was the writer of the
final letter. His heart must have been very light. Evidently the winter of 1753
had been mild, for he wrote on February 15, and spring must then have been well
on the way. At least the letter was so full of
spring that there was little room for anything else. The letter, which was sent
to James Wright, began: “My Good ffriend “It gave me
pleasure to hear you got home well, and as thee mentions the Weathr I shall
observe, Froggs and Flys the Land possess, To moderate the Colds Excess, By
croaking throats and Humming Wing, Gladly to welcome the approaching Spring,
When these their Watry Council hold, and These Salute with bussings Bold, we
may conclude the winter’s past, and Geneal Spring approaches fast — which
brings to mind the Gardiner’s Care, To plant and Soe all things rare, and first
we think of Colliflowers tast, To Soe its Seed with utmost hast, for fear the
Season sh’d relaps and we not regale our Watry Chaps, with Its delicious tast
& food, wch sure wo’d put in Dudgeon mood, Then how shall I the sequell
tell, when those Possest with seed, won’t sell. However to be a little more
serious Debby bids me tell thee that she’s in hopes to prevale on Dubree to
spare a little & this was a good Day to have sent a Messenger, wod not have
postponed it till another . . . “Please To Tender my Grateful
Acceptances of the Muffatees to my kind friend Sukey Taylor, & tell her
were I a young Fellow, from whose Mouth or Pen such return wod be suitable
& apropo, wod say, was the Weathr as Cold as Green Lands Air, Its utmost
Rigour I wod not fear, but Proud to Breathe the Frigid Land, while arm’d wth
Shield from thy fair hand, I’d think the Region not too Cool, but warm my heart
by Buffalo’s wool. But in more moderate Terms may, And perhaps with greater
Sincerity, acquaint her wth my obligations for her warm preset Truly Debby
tells me she intends to Borrow them on Extraordinary Occasions, to Draw over
her Gloves, and wth a Muff to Defend her arms from any Cold our Clymat has in
petto.” Surely Charles Norris could give
pointers to the writers of weird lines that modern versifiers have the temerity
to call poetry. At any rate it is easy to gather his meaning, and that is
something that cannot be done with the average writer of what one critic has
called the Charlie Chaplin school of poetry. |
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