The Ladies of the White House; Or, in the Home of the Presidents: Being a Complete History of the Social and Domestic Lives of the Presidents from Washington to the Present Time—1789–1881Holloway, Laura C. (Laura Carter)
History
The Ladies of the White House; Or, in the Home of the Presidents: Being a Complete History of the Social and Domestic Lives of the Presidents from Washington to the Present Time—1789–1881
Holloway, Laura C. (Laura Carter)
Presidents -- United States -- Biography; Presidents' spouses -- United States -- Biography
In his admitted integrity and worth as a man and citizen, in his great
intellectual powers, in his constantly increasing prosperity and rising
reputation, in the accounts she received of his eloquence both at the
bar and in the legislature, and in the high official trusts which
ultimately were literally showered upon him, one after the other, almost
without intermission; and finally in his tender solicitude to restore
her failing health and to minister to her slightest wish, she discovered
all that her woman’s heart, or her feminine ambition required, to
complete and secure her wedded happiness. The following letter, the
first that Mr. Tyler ever ventured to address to her before marriage,
and the original of which is still preserved in the family—apart from
the natural simplicity of its style and the ordinary interest that would
attach to it—not only presents the most unmistakable evidence of the
sound and healthy sentiments, emotions, and principles of character
associated with both and impelling to their union, but it is also a
remarkable illustration, in view of a long engagement prior to marriage,
of the delicate tone and exalted purity of the social structure and
civilization that surrounded them and under whose happy influences they
were born and reared.
“RICHMOND, _December 5th, 1812_.
“Although I could not entirely obtain your permission to write to you,
yet I am well aware that you will not be displeased at my exercising a
privilege, so valuable to one standing in the relation that I do to you.
To think of you and to write to you, are the only sources from whence I
can derive any real satisfaction during my residence in this place. The
prerogative of thinking of those we love, and from whom we are
separated, seems to be guaranteed to us by nature, as we cannot be
deprived of it either by the bustle and confusion of a town, or by the
important duties that attach to our existence. Believe me, my L., that
this observation has been completely verified by me since I last saw
you, for although deafened by noise, and attentive to the duties of my
station, yet you are the subject of my serious meditations and the
object of my fervent prayers to heaven. From the first moment of my
acquaintance with you, I felt the influence of genuine affection; but
now, when I reflect upon the sacrifice which you make to virtue and to
feeling, by conferring your hand on me, who have nothing to boast of but
an honest and upright soul, and a heart of purest love, I feel gratitude
superadded to affection for you. Indeed, I do esteem myself most rich in
possessing you. The mean and sordid wretch who yields the unspeakable
bliss of possessing her whom he ardently loves, may boast of his
ill-acquired wealth, and display his treasures in all the pride of
ostentation to the world, but who shall administer to him comfort in the
hour of affliction? Whose seraph smile shall chase away the fiends which
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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