Madame embraced me tenderly with many tears, at parting; and I felt a kind of prelusive anguish, as if I had anticipated the sorrows that awaited: I do not mean now the painful vicissitudes of after life, but merely the cruel disappointment that I felt in finding the scenery and its inhabitants so different from the Elysian vales and Arcadian swains that I had imagined.
When we came away, by an odd coincidence, aunt’s nephew Peter was just about to be married to a very fine young creature, whom his relations did not, for some reason that I do not remember, think suitable; while, at the very same time, her niece, Miss W. had captivated the son of a rich but avaricious man, who would not consent to his marrying her, unless aunt gave a fortune with her; which being an unusual demand, she did not choose to comply with. I was the proud and happy confidant of both these lovers; and before we left New-York we heard that each had married without waiting for the withheld consent. And thus for once madame was left without a protégée, but still she had her sister W., and soon acquired a new set of children, the orphan sons of her nephew, Cortlandt Schuyler, who continued under her care for the remainder of her life.
My voyage down the river, which was, by contrary winds, protracted to a whole week, would have been very pleasant, could any thing have pleased me. I was at least soothed by the extreme beauty of many scenes on the banks of this fine stream, which I was fated never more to behold.
Nothing could exceed the soft grateful verdure that met the eye on every side as we approached New-York. It was in the beginning of May; the great orchards which rose on every slope were all in bloom, and the woods of poplar beyond them, had their sprouting foliage tinged with a lighter shade of the freshest green. Staten Island rose gradual from the sea, in which it seemed to float, and was so covered with innumerable fruit-trees in full blossom, that it looked like some enchanted forest. I shall not attempt to describe a place so well known as New-York, but merely content myself with saying that I was charmed with the air of easy gaiety and social kindness that seemed to prevail every where among the people, and the cheerful animated appearance of the place altogether. Here I fed the painful longings of my mind, which already began to turn impatiently towards madame, by conversing with young people whom I had met at her house on their summer excursions. These were most desirous to please and amuse me; and, though I knew little of good breeding, I had good nature enough to try to seem pleased, but, in fact, I enjoyed nothing, though I saw there was much to enjoy, had my mind been tuned as usual to social delight. Fatigued with the kindness of others, and my own simulation, I tried to forget my sorrows in sleep; but night, that was wont to bring peace and silence in her train, had no such companions here. The spirit of discord had broken loose. The fermentation was begun that was not yet ended. And at midnight, bands of intoxicated electors, who were then choosing a member for the assembly, came thundering to the doors, demanding a vote for their favoured candidate. An hour after, another party equally vociferous, and not more sober, alarmed us, by insisting on our giving our votes for their favourite competitor. This was mere play; but before we embarked, there was a kind of prelusive skirmish, that strongly marked the spirit of the times. These new patriots had taken it in their heads that Lieutenant Governor Colden sent home intelligence of their proceedings, or in some other way betrayed them, as they thought, to government. In one of these fits of excess and fury, which are so often the result of popular elections, they went to his house, drew out his coach, and set fire to it. This was the night before we embarked, after a week’s stay in New-York.