Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 01
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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 01
Literature -- Collections
Six months have already elapsed since I heard a syllable from you or my
dear son, and five since I have had one single opportunity of conveying
a line to you. Letters of various dates have lain months at the Navy
Board, and a packet and frigate, both ready to sail at an hour's
warning, have been months waiting the orders of Congress. They no doubt
have their reasons, or ought to have, for detaining them. I must
patiently wait their motions, however painful it is; and that it is so,
your own feelings will testify. Yet I know not but you are less a
sufferer than you would be to hear from us, to know our distresses, and
yet be unable to relieve them. The universal cry for bread, to a humane
heart, is painful beyond description, and the great price demanded and
given for it verifies that pathetic passage of Sacred Writ, "All that a
man hath will he give for his life." Yet He who miraculously fed a
multitude with five loaves and two fishes has graciously interposed in
our favor, and delivered many of the enemy's supplies into our hands, so
that our distresses have been mitigated. I have been able as yet to
supply my own family, sparingly, but at a price that would astonish you.
Corn is sold at four dollars, hard money, per bushel, which is equal to
eighty at the rate of exchange.
Labor is at eight dollars per day, and in three weeks it will be at
twelve, it is probable, or it will be more stable than anything else.
Goods of all kinds are at such a price that I hardly dare mention it.
Linens are sold at twenty dollars per yard; the most ordinary sort of
calicoes at thirty and forty; broadcloths at forty pounds per yard; West
India goods full as high; molasses at twenty dollars per gallon; sugar,
four dollars per pound; Bohea tea at forty dollars; and our own produce
in proportion; butcher's meat at six and eight shillings per pound;
board at fifty and sixty dollars per week; rates high. That, I suppose,
you will rejoice at; so would I, did it remedy the evil. I pay five
hundred dollars, and a new Continental rate has just appeared, my
proportion of which will be two hundred more. I have come to this
determination,--to sell no more bills, unless I can procure hard money
for them, although I shall be obliged to allow a discount. If I sell for
paper, I throw away more than half, so rapid is the depreciation; nor do
I know that it will be received long. I sold a bill to Blodget at five
for one, which was looked upon as high at that time. The week after I
received it, two emissions were taken out of circulation, and the
greater part of what I had proved to be of that sort; so that those to
whom I was indebted are obliged to wait, and before it becomes due, or
is exchanged, it will be good for--as much as it will fetch, which will
be nothing, if it goes on as it has done for this three months past. I
will not tire your patience any longer. I have not drawn any further
upon you. I mean to wait the return of the Alliance, which with longing
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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