Chapter XL: Letter X

I think it very hard I can never hear my Dearest Life has got any
of my letters, tho’ this is the seventh I have writ, and in every
one desired you to draw a bill for 100 pounds. Your not doeing it
makes me conclude you have never got one, and since you left Paris
I have never heard from you at all. I must own my hearing from you
so seldom is a great uneasiness and occasions me many fears, tho’
I must own I should trust to the kind providence of God who has
hitherto wonderfully preserved you. All things as to the settling the
affairs of this unhappy country are still undetermined, and our own
countrymen cannot agree about it, which is our misfortune. What will
be the issue God knows, but we are not without fears of hard usage,
nor altogether without hop that in time they may relent and use us
more Christianly.

I hear of our friends att London frequently. I am hopful they are in
no danger as to their lives, and it’s generally talkt there will not
be much more blood taken. In the meantime I am living very easyily at
home managing as formerly, but have enough to do to keep all right,
and have great difficulty in getting up the rents, tho’ care must be
taken to pay the annual rents and prevent diligencies being done. I
am very lucky in two friends which take much of the burden off me,
and all is done that can be in the present circumstances. I am easy
in everything in comparison to the anxious care and concern I have
about your person, and the different thoughts you will have upon not
hearing what state I am in.

Your boys has had the chincoch but are better. The season here has
been extraordinary, for since the breaking of the storm there has
not been an ill day; the fields are much frequented by me, and how
to manage my ground to the best advantage is much my study. I shall
not fail to observe as much as possible all you have done in both
places....

Some of your friends are so unjust (as) to blame me for your going
out, and the reason they give for it is I should have acquainted the
Government with your design. But since I am innocent and never did
anything but what was my duty with regard to you, I must let them be
saying and bear that with other things. I cannot frame a notion to
myself what state we will be in, but in the general I have no fears
of want, and I am sure nobody will lose by you. These things I have
good ground to believe, let things come to the worst; but the longer
things are of being settled the longer I shall be deprived of the
happyness of seeing you, for my being here is absolutely necessare
till we see the utmost and procure something by help of friends for
me and my children if they do go to the Height of Rigour.

I have no other work in hand without doors but plowing, this two
months past, for some impertinent folks was like to be uneasy, and
P. C. is at London who has several schemes in vein; whether any will
succeed at this present juncture I cannot guess, but Providence will
preserve you and all your concerns, I hop, in spite of all your
enemies. All your friends here are well, some blaming you and others
pitying you, but all your near relations will do for you what lyes
in their power. Your sister Ca. has a son call’d after her father;
I am going to see her this week. I am very impatient to hear from
you. The three letters you writ before you left Paris came safe to my
hand, but I have had none since. My health is pretty good considering
how many difficult things I have to disturb me, but if you be
preserved I hop to get over all other difficulties in time.

As to the clans they are all coming in and giving up their arms.
There is none of your neighbourhood given up themselves.

Betty salutes you, and I am Dear, Soul, in all sincerity, May 1st.

Yours.