Transcription
Washington Jany 22d. 1853
My dear Sarah,
I arrived here safely this morning between eleven & twelve and found Mr Kennedy waiting for me at the Station, where he put into my hands your nice long letter and also one from Pierre Munroe.
I presumed you would be nearly snowed under in the late storm, which was deep in the city and is always deeper in the country. It is probable you will have some days of good sleighing, and I trust you will all take advantage of it. I am glad to learn that Robert was about to attack the ice; we cannot be choosers this year, but must take what we can get; solid or not. The continuance of very cold weather may enable the men to get a second cutting of clear solid ice to put on top.
[I am] The geese were well sold; whoever bought them will have the worth of their money
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in chewing. Tell Robert to furnish you with more of the poultry; there must be two or three dozen more than we want for stock and they won’t grow better by keeping[.] I wish him in the course of the winter to put the fence between our ground and Dr McVickars in sufficient repair to keep the cattle from breaking through. There is no need of bestowing pains upon the looks of the job as I trust to making an arrangement with the Doctor to put up an entirely new fence in the course of the year.
The derangement of Mr Grinnells health does not surprise me, I have for some time expected it. I hope the counsel of his doctor has made sufficient impression on him to induce him to be more cautious in his mode of living. He is all the while pushing forward on the high pressure system at the risk of an explosion.
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Jany. 23d. I had enclosed the foregoing for the post office when I recieved your letter dated the 30th but mailed the 21st, to which I will reply in post script. And first–I am glad to hear that the ice house is filled; it is the all important operation of the winter, after the accomplishment of which, the elements may act as they please. I am glad to learn also that the fences have been painted; which I gather from the circumstance of Tony being bedaubed with coal tar, doubtless from his assisting in the job. I am glad to hear that the little dogs guard the house well, and would suggest that Robert provide a sentry box ↑lined↓ with 〈some〉↑an↓ old buffalo skin, for them to nestle in at night when on duty. It might be put under one of the iron seats in the porch.
You wish to be kept informed of all the beautiful ladies I meet with–so I will begin by the three belles of our household. One of them, Miss Mary Kennedy is a niece of Mr Kennedy, she is about your own size; light and graceful in her movements, of a very pleasing prepossessing countenance, a frank, truthful demeanour, with perfect tact and self possession. She is Mrs Kenndeys right hand in every thing, and had quite the gift of society, with 〈the〉excellent qualifications for domestic
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life. She acts as my secretary to answer all notes of invitation &c taking somewhat of a mischievous pleasure in baulking my fair correspondents of my autograph.
Another, Miss Dulaney, is a really beautiful girl, young, fresh, plump and dimpling, with beautiful black eyes, small mouth fine teeth and the sweetest smile imaginable. She is〈a good〉unspoiled as yet, by admiration, 〈very〉with great simplicity and naturalness of manner, and with none of the insolence of beauty, 〈that sometimes〉for which young belles are sometimes noted in the hey day of their charms. I 〈tak〉took her into the presidents levee the other evening with the conviction that I was conducting the belle of the assembly– I soon lost her however among five hundred admiring young gentlemen.
The third, Miss Andrews, is a very pretty genteel young lady who reminds me continually of my little good for nuffin Mary. She is about her size, and like her 〈very〉is never to be seen, from morning till night, with a hair out of place or the least derangement of her toilette. She is a perfect little lady and
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fit to be put under a glass case, and set on the mantle piece.
Of these three girls, were I a young man, I should be at a loss which to prefer–but rather think I should fall in love with all three–As a old gentleman I feel a serene pleasure in noticing their little ways and graces, and listening to their discussions about dresses parties, beaux &c–They have the freshness and gayety of youth, but with that thorough good breeding which tempers its buoyancy. As yet, we have been so much taken up with engagements and visitors that I have had but little opportunity of 〈hearing〉enjoying Miss Andrews talent for music, which from a small specimen, appears to be of a high order.
I forgot to mention, in speaking of the presidents levee, that I caught sight in the grand saloon, of the 〈bea〉Virginia beauty with large dark eyes, whom I studied in the rail road cars between N York and Philadelphia. She is Miss Kate Gamble, formerly of Virginia, at present I believe of Florida, and I have no doubt she is daughter of my friend Gamble with whom I frolicked in Paris in my young days. I had but a
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glimpse of her at a distance. I was in a crowd; with Mrs Stanard on my arm and people shaking hands with me on right and left–The crowd closed between me and the dark eyed beauty and I saw no more of her[.] I shall doubtless meet with her again in my perambulations about Washington, and if so, you shall hear more about her.
In one corner of the Presidents saloon I was accosted by a Naval officer, who had met me on board of Chaunceys Squadron at anchor off Sackets harbor, during the last war with G Britain. He was then a Midshipman on board. I was up there as aid de Camp of Gov Tompkins to consult with the army & naval commanders and order out Militia. He introduced me to his wife; who claimed a right to my acquaintance having often heard her mother talk about me. Her mother had a copy of verses which I once wrote about her!—It turned out that she was the daughter of a Virginia belle whom I had admired and berhymed about half a century since at Richmond–So ones youthful sins rise in judgment against one. She beckoned to a very pretty little girl (her daughter) who was at a distance–before the latter came up she began to telegraph with her fingers telling her mother she knew me by my likeness–She was deaf and dumb!
P S. None of the Washington belles wear caps–
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I am most comfortably fixed at Mr Kennedys with a capital room and every thing snug about me for writing or reading or lounging. Mrs Kennedy recieved me in her own frank kind manner–She could not treat me better even if she were a niece. I understand my friend Major Jack Downing is in Washington with his family; also Alexander Hamilton–who is here pleading a cause before the Supreme Court. I found my darling little friend Mrs Stanard on a morning visit〈at〉to Mrs Kennedy on my arrival, so that I see I shall meet with lots of agreeable company. I wish, however, to keep out of the whirl as long as I can; that I may get among the archives of the State department, before I am carried off my feet by engagements. On friday evening is the presidents levee where I shall attend–and then I shall be launched–As yet I have not looked about me–merely passing from the parlour to my room where
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I have been unpacking my trunk, arranging my things and scribbling this letter. I shall〈pa〉keep it open, in case I may have any thing more to say this evening.
½ past 10. We had a pleasant informal dinner. Mr Corwin the Secretary of the Treasury Commodore Shubrick and a Captain Dupont of the Navy dined with us. The conversation was very interesting and varied and occasionally very amusing[.] I felt, however, rather below par and found it difficult to bear my share in the conversation. For several nights past I have slept very little indeed〈my〉 it was the case before I left home, but has been still worse of late; though I have taken no sleep in the day time. It has an exhausting effect〈upon me〉upon my mind and spirits. I attribute it to derangement of the stomach causing acidity or heart burn, and have put myself on regimen as well as I can, not having you at hand to advise and take care of me. I hope to sleep well to night. With love to all the family
Your affectionate uncle
Washington Irving
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Marisa CalderioLanguage
EnglishNotes
Washington Irving. Letters. Volume IV, 1846-1859. Aderman, Ralph M., Kleinfield, Herbert L. and Jenifer S. Banks. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1982, pp. 356-360.
