If I do not hear then, there will be no hope till Tuesday.
To feelings like mine, what an interval! May God grant me one word
from you to-morrow. Adieu. All that I have left of heart is yours. All
my prayers are for your safety and well-being.
January 19, 1813.
Forebodings! wretched, heart-rending forebodings distract my mind. I
may no longer have a wife; and yet my impatient restlessness addresses
her a letter. To-morrow will be three weeks since our separation, and
not yet one line. Gracious God! for what am I reserved?
JOSEPH ALSTON.
FROM JOSEPH ALSTON TO COL. BURR.
Columbia, January 19, 1813.
To-morrow will be three weeks since, in obedience to your wishes,
Theodosia left me. It is three weeks, and not yet one line from her.
My mind is tortured. I wrote you on the 29th ult., the day before
Theo. sailed, that on the next day she would embark in the privateer
_Patriot_, a pilot-boat-built schooner, commanded by Captain
Overstocks, with an old New-York pilot as sailing-master. The vessel
had dismissed her crew, and was returning home with her guns under
deck. Her reputed swiftness in sailing inspired such confidence of a
voyage of not more than five or six days, that the three weeks without
a letter fill me with an unhappiness--a wretchedness I can neither
describe nor conquer. Gracious God! Is my wife, too, taken from me? I
do not know why I write, but I feel that I am miserable.
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