He had brought with him from America, as we have seen, a model of a bridge of his own construction and invention, which model had been adopted in England for building bridges under his own direction. He employed part of his time, while at our house, in bringing this model to high perfection, and this accomplished to his wishes. He afterwards, and according the model, made a bridge of lead, which he accomplished b/ moulding different blocks of lead, which, when joined together, made the form that he required. This was most pleasant amusement for him. Though he fully relied on the strength of his new bridge, and would produce arguments enough in proof of its infallible strength, he often demonstrated the proof by blows of the sledge-hammer, not leaving anyone in doubt on the subject. One night he took off the scaffold of his bridge and seeing that it stood firm under the repeated strokes of hammer, he was so ravished that an enjoyment so great was not to be sufficiently felt if confined to his own bosom. He was not satisfied without admirers of his success. One night we had just gone to bed, and were surprised at hearing repeated strokes of the hammer. Paine went into Mr. Bonneville's room and besought him to go and see his bridge: come and look, said he, it bears all my blows and stands like a rock. Mr. Bonneville arose, as well to please himself by seeing a happy man as to please him by looking at his bridge. Nothing would do, unless I saw the sight as well as Mr. Bonneville. After much exultation: "nothing, in the world," said he, "is so fine as my bridge"; and, seeing me standing by without uttering a word, he added, "except a woman!" which happy compliment to the sex he seemed to think, a full compensation for the trouble caused by this nocturnal visit to the bridge.
A machine for planing boards was his next invention, which machine he had executed partly by one blacksmith and partly by another. The machine being put together by him, he placed it on the floor, and with it planed boards to any number that he required, to make some models of wheels. Mr. Bonneville has two of these wheels now. There is a specification of the wheels, given by Mr. Paine himself. This specification, together with a drawing of the model, made by Mr. Fulton, were deposited at Washington, in February 1811; and the other documents necessary to obtain a patent as an invention of Thomas Paine, for the benefit of Madam Bonneville. To be presented to the Directory of France, a memorial on the progress and construction of iron bridges. On this subject the two pieces here subjoined will throw sufficient light. (Memoir upon Bridges.—Upon Iron Bridges.—To the Directory.—Memoir on the Progress and Construction &c.)
Preparations were made, real or simulated, for a Descent upon England. Thomas Paine was consulted by B. 8. who was then in the house of Talma, and he wrote the following notes and instructions. Letter at Brussells.—The Ça-ira of America.—To the Consul Lépeaux.*
Chancellor Livingston, after his arrival in France, came a few times to see Paine. One morning we had him at breakfast, Dupuis, the author of the Origin of Worship, being of the party; and Mr. Livingston, when he got up to go away, said to Mr. Paine smiling, "Make your Will; leave the mechanics, the iron bridge, the wheels, etc. to America, and your religion to France."
Thomas Paine, while at our house, published in Mr. Bonneville's journal (the Bien Informé) several articles on passing events.*
A few days before his departure for America, he said, at Mr. Smith's [Sir Robert] that he had nothing to detain him in France; for that he was neither in love, debt, nor difficulty. Some lady observed, that it was not, in the company of ladies, gallant to say he was not in love. Upon this occasion he wrote the New Covenant, from the Castle in the Air to the Little Corner of the World, in three stanzas, and sent it with the following words: "As the ladies are better judges of gallantry than the men are, I will thank you to tell me, whether the enclosed be gallantry. If it be, it is truly original; and the merit of it belongs to the person who inspired it." The following was the answer of Mrs. Smith. "If the usual style of gallantry was as clever as your new covenant, many a fair ladies heart would be in danger, but the Little Corner of the World receives it from the Castle in the Air; it is agreeable to her as being the elegant fancy of a friend.—C. Smith." [Stanzas missing.']
At this time, 1802, public spirit was at end in France. The real republicans were harrassed by eternal prosecutions. Paine was a truly grateful man: his friendship was active and warm, and steady. During the six years that he lived in our house, he frequently pressed us to go to America, offering us all that he should be able to do for us, and saying that he would bequeath his property to our children. Some affairs of great consequence made it impracticable for Mr. Bonneville to quit France; but, foreseeing a new revolution, that would strike, personally, many of the Republicans, it was resolved, soon after the departure of Mr. Paine for America, that I should go thither with my children, relying fully on the good offices of Mr. Paine, whose conduct in America justified that reliance.
In 1802 Paine left France, regretted by all who knew him. He embarked at Havre de Grace on board a stout ship, belonging to Mr. Patterson, of Baltimore, he being the only passenger. After a very stormy passage, he landed at Baltimore on the 30th of October, 1812. He remained there but a few days, and then went to Washington, where he published his Letters to the Americans.
A few months afterwards, he went to Bordentown, to his friend Col. Kirkbride, who had invited him, on his return, by the following letter of 12 November, 1802. [Missing.]
He staid at Bordentown about two months, and then went to New York, where a great number of patriots gave him a splendid dinner at the City Hotel. In June, 1803, he went to Stonington, New England, to see some friends; and in the autumn he went to his farm at New Rochelle. (The letter of Thomas Paine to Mr. Bonneville, 20 Nov., 1803.) [Missing.]
An inhabitant of this village offered him an apartment, of which he accepted, and while here he was taken ill. His complaint was a sort of paralytic affection, which took away the use of his hands. He had had the same while at Mr. Monroe's in Paris, after he was released from prison. Being better, he went to his farm, where he remained a part of the winter, and he came to New York to spend the rest of it; but in the spring (1804) he went back to his farm. The farmer who had had his farm for 17 or 18 years, instead of paying his rent, brought Mr. Paine a bill for fencing, which made Paine his debtor! They had a law-suit by which Paine got nothing but the right of paying the law-expenses! This and other necessary expenses compelled him to sell sixty acres of his land. He then gave the honest farmer notice to quit the next April (1805).
Upon taking possession of the farm himself, he hired Christopher Derrick to cultivate it for him. He soon found that Derrick was not fit for his place, and he, therefore, discharged him. This was in the summer; and, on Christmas Eve ensuing, about six o'clock, Mr. Paine being in his room, on the ground floor, reading, a gun was fired a few yards from the window. The contents of the gun struck the bottom part of the window, and all the charge, which was of small shot, lodged, as was next day discovered, in the window sill and wall. The shooter, in firing the gun, fell; and the barrel of the gun had entered the ground where he fell, and left an impression, which Thomas Paine observed the next morning. Thomas Paine went immediately to the house of a neighboring farmer, and there (seeing a gun, he took hold of it, and perceived that the muzzle of the gun was filled with fresh earth.) And then he heard that Christopher Derick had borrowed the gun about five o'clock the evening before, and had returned it again before six o'clock the same evening. Derick was arrested, and Purdy, his brother farmer, became immediately and voluntarily his bail. The cause was brought forward at New Rochelle; and Derick was acquitted.*
In 1806 Thomas Paine offered to vote at New Rochelle for the election. But his vote was not admitted; on the pretence only of his not being a citizen of America; whereon he wrote the following letters. [The letters are here missing, but no doubt the same as those on pp. 379-80 of this volume..]
This case was pleaded before the Supreme Court of New York by Mr. Riker, then Attorney General, and, though Paine lost his cause, I as his legatee, did not lose the having to pay for it. It is however, an undoubted fact, that Mr. Paine was an American Citizen.
He remained at New Rochelle till June 1807; till disgust of every kind, occasioned by the gross and brutal conduct of some of the people there, made him resolve to go and live at New York.
On the 4th of April, 1807, he wrote the following letter to Mr. Bonneville [in Paris]:
"My dear Bonneville: Why don't you come to America Your wife and two boys, Benjamin and Thomas, are here, and in good health. They all speak English very well; but Thomas has forgot his French. I intend to provide for the boys, but, I wish to see you here. We heard of you by letters by Madget and Captain Hailey. Mrs. Bonneville, and Mrs. Thomas, an English woman, keep an academy for young ladies.
"I send this by a friend, Mrs. Champlin, who will call on Mercier at the Institute, to know where you are. Your affectionate friend."
And some time after the following letter:
"My dear Bonneville: I received your letter by Mrs. Champlin, and also the letter for Mrs. Bonneville, and one from her sister. I have written to the American Minister in Paris, Mr. Armstrong, desiring him to interest himself to have your surveillance taken off on condition of your coming to join your family in the United States.
"This letter, with Mrs. Bonneville's, come to you under cover to the American Minister from Mr. Madison, Secretary of State. As soon as you receive it I advise you to call on General Armstrong and inform him of the proper method to have your surveillance taken off. Mr. Champagny, who succeeds Talleyrand, is, I suppose, the same who was Minister of the Interior, from whom I received a handsome friendly letter, respecting the iron bridge. I think you once went with me to see him.
"Call on Mr Skipwith with my compliments. He will inform you what vessels will sail for New York and where from. Bordeaux will be the best place to sail from. I believe Mr. Lee is American Consul at Bordeaux. When you arrive there, call on him, with my compliments. You may contrive to arrive at New York in April or May. The passages, in the Spring, are generally short; seldom more than five weeks, and often less.
"Present my respects to Mercier, Bernardin St. Pierre, Dupuis, Grégoire.—When you come, I intend publishing all my works, and those I have yet in manuscript, by subscription. They will make 4 or 5 vol. 4°, or 5 vol. 8°, about 400 pages each. Yours in friendship.—T. P."*
While Paine was one day taking his usual after-dinner nap, an old woman called, and, asking for Mr. Paine, said she had something of great importance to communicate to him. She was shown into his bed-chamber; and Paine, raising himself on his elbow, and turning towards the woman, said: "What do you want with me?" "I came," said she, "from God, to tell you, that if you don't repent, and believe in Christ, you 'll be dammed." "Poh, poh, it's not true," said Paine; "you are not sent with such an impertinent message. Send her away. Pshaw! God would not send such a foolish ugly old woman as you. Turn this messenger out. Get away; be off: shut the door." And so the old woman packed herself off.
After his arrival Paine published several articles in the newspapers of New York and Philadelphia. Subsequent to a short illness which he had in 1807, he could not walk without pain, and the difficulty of walking increased every day. On the 21st of January, 1808, he addressed a memorial to the Congress of the United States, asking remuneration for his services; and, on the 14th of February, the same year, another on the same subject. These documents and his letter to the Speaker are as follows.*
The Committee of Claims, to which the memorial had been submitted, passed the following resolution: "Resolved, that Thomas Paine has leave to withdraw his memorial and the papers accompanying the same." He was deeply grieved at this refusal; some have blamed him for exposing himself to it. But, it should be recollected, that his expenses were greatly augmented by his illness, and he saw his means daily diminish, while he feared a total palsy; and while he expected to live to a very great age, as his ancestors had before him. His money yielded no interest, always having been unwilling to place money out in that way.
He had made his will in 1807, during the short illness already noticed. But three months later, he assembled his friends, and read to them another will; saying that he had believed such and such one to be his friend, and that now having altered his belief in them, he had also altered his will. From motives of the same kind, he, three months before his death, made another will, which he sealed up and directed to me, and gave it me to keep, observing to me, that I was more interested in it than any body else.
He wished to be buried in the Quaker burying ground, and sent for a member of the committee [Willett Hicks] who lived in the neighborhood. The interview took place on the 19th of March, 1809. Paine said, when we were looking out for another lodging, we had to put in order the affairs of our present abode. This was precisely the case with him; all his affairs were settled, and he had only to provide his burying-ground; his father had been a Quaker, and he hoped they would not refuse him a grave; "I will," added he, "pay for the digging of it."
The committee of the Quakers refused to receive his body, at which he seemed deeply moved, and observed to me, who was present at the interview, that their refusal was foolish. "You will," said I, "be buried on your farm" "I have no objection to that," said he "but the farm will be sold, and they will dig my bones up before they be half rotten." "Mr. Paine," I replied, "have confidence in your friends. I assure you, that the place where you will be buried, shall never be sold." He seemed satisfied; and never spoke upon this subject again. I have been as good as my word.
Last December (1818) the land of the farm having been divided between my children, I gave fifty dollars to keep apart and to myself, the place whereon the grave was.
Paine, doubtless, considered me and my children as strangers in America. His affection for us was, at any rate, great and sincere. He anxiously recommended us to the protection of Mr. Emmet, saying to him, "when I am dead, Madam Bonneville will have no friend here." And a little time after, obliged to draw money from the Bank, he said, with an air of sorrow, "you will have nothing left."*
He was now become extremely weak. His strength and appetite daily departed from him; and in the day-time only he was able, when not in bed, to sit up in his arm-chair to read the newspapers, and sometimes write. When he could no longer quit his bed, he made some one read the newspapers to him. His mind was always active. He wrote nothing for the press after writing his last will, but he would converse, and took great interest in politics. The vigour of his mind, which had always so strongly characterized him, did not leave him to the last moment. He never complained of his bodily sufferings, though they became excessive. His constitution was strong. The want of exercise alone was the cause of his sufferings. Notwithstanding the great inconveniences he was obliged to sustain during his illness, in a carman's house [Ryder's] in a small village [Greenwich], without any bosom friend in whom he could repose confidence, without any society he liked, he still did not complain of his sufferings. I indeed, went regularly to see him twice a week; but, he said to me one day: "I am here alone, for all these people are nothing to me, day after day, week after week, month after month, and you don't come to see me."
In a conversation between him and Mr. [Albert] Gallatin, about this time, I recollect his using these words: "I am very sorry that I ever returned to this country." As he was thus situated and paying a high price for his lodgings he expressed a wish to come to my house. This must be a great inconvenience to me from the frequent visits to Mr. Thomas Paine; but, I, at last, consented; and hired a house in the neighborhood, in May 1809, to which he was carried in an arm-chair, after which he seemed calm and satisfied, and gave himself no trouble about anything. He had no disease that required a Doctor, though Dr. Romaine came to visit him twice a week. The swelling, which had commenced at his feet, had now reached his body, and some one had been so officious as to tell him that he ought to be tapped. He asked me if this was necessary. I told him, that I did not know; but, that, unless he was likely to derive great good from it, it should not be done. The next [day] Doctor Romaine came and brought a physician with him, and they resolved that the tapping need not take place.
He now grew weaker and weaker very fast. A very few days before his death, Dr. Romame said to me, "I don't think he can live till night." Paine, hearing some one speak, opens his eyes, and said: "'T is you Doctor: what news?" "Mr. such an one is gone to France on such business." "He will do nothing there," said Paine. "Your belly diminishes," said the Doctor. "And yours augments," said Paine.
When he was near his end, two American clergymen came to see him, and to talk with him on religious matters. "Let me alone," said he; "good morning." He desired they should be admitted no more. One of his friends came to New York; a person for whom he had a great esteem, and whom seeing his end fast approaching, I asked him, in presence of a friend, if he felt satisfied with the treatment he had received at our house, upon which he could only exclaim, O! yes! He added other words, but they were incoherent It was impossible for me not to exert myself to the utmost in taking care of a person to whom I and my children owed so much. He now appeared to have lost all kind of feeling. He spent the night in tranquillity, and expired in the morning at eight o'clock, after a short oppression, at my house in Greenwich, about two miles from the city of New York. Mr. Jarvis, a Painter, who had formerly made a portrait of him, moulded his head in plaster, from which a bust was executed.
He was, according to the American custom, deposited in a mahogany coffin, with his name and age engraved on a silver-plate, put on the coffin. His corpse was dressed in a shirt, a muslin gown tied at neck and wrists with black ribbon, stockings, drawers; and a cap was put under his head as a pillow. (He never slept in a night-cap.) Before the coffin was placed on the carriage, I went to see him; and having a rose in my bosom, I took it out, and placed on his breast. Death had not disfigured him. Though very thin, his bones were not protuberant. He was not wrinkled, and had lost very little hair.
His voice was very strong even to his last moments. He often exclaimed, oh, lord help me! An exclamation the involuntary effect of pain. He groaned deeply, and when a question was put to him, calling him by his name, he opened his eyes, as if waking from a dream. He never answered the question, but asked one himself; as, what is it o'clock, &c.
On the ninth of June my son and I, and a few of Thomas Paine's friends, set off with the corpse to New Rochelle, a place 22 miles from New York. It was my intention to have him buried in the Orchard of his own farm; but the farmer who lived there at that time said, that Thomas Paine, walking with him one day, said, pointing to another part of the land, he was desirous of being buried there. "Then," said I, "that shall be the place of his burial." And, my instructions were accordingly put in execution. The head-stone was put up about a week afterwards with the following inscription: "Thomas Paine, Author of "Common Sense," died the eighth of June, 1809, aged 72 years." According to his will, a wall twelve feet square was erected round his tomb. Four trees have been planted outside the wall, two weeping willows and two cypresses. Many persons have taken away pieces of the tombstone and of the trees, in memory of the deceased; foreigners especially have been eager to obtain these memorials, some of which have been sent to England.* They have been put in frames and preserved. Verses in honor of Paine have been written on the head stone. The grave is situated at the angle of the farm, by the entrance to it.
This interment was a scene to affect and to wound any sensible heart. Contemplating who it was, what man it was, that we were committing to an obscure grave on an open and disregarded bit of land, I could not help feeling most acutely. Before the earth was thrown down upon the coffin, I, placing myself at the east end of the grave, said to my son Benjamin, "stand you there, at the other end, as a witness for grateful America." Looking round me, and beholding the small group of spectators, I exclaimed, as the earth was tumbled into the grave, "Oh! Mr. Paine! My son stands here as testimony of the gratitude of America, and I, for France!" This was the funeral ceremony of this great politician and philosopher!**
The eighty-eight acres of the north part were sold at 25 dollars an acre. The half of the south (the share of Thomas de Bonneville) has been sold for the total sum of 1425 dollars. The other part of the south, which was left to Benjamin de Bonneville, has just (1819) been sold in lots, reserving the spot in which Thomas Paine was buried, being a piece of land 45 feet square.
Thomas Paine's posthumous works. He left the manuscript of his answer to Bishop Watson; the Third Part of his Age of Reason; several pieces on Religious subjects, prose and verse. The great part of his posthumous political works will be found in the Appendix. Some correspondences cannot be, as yet, published.*
In Mechanics he has left two models of wheels for carriages, and of a machine to plane boards. Of the two models of bridges, left at the Philadelphia Museum, only one has been preserved, and that in great disorder, one side being taken entirely off. But, I must say here, that it was then out of the hands of Mr. Peale.'
Though it is difficult, at present, to make some people believe that, instead of being looked on as a deist and a drunkard, Paine ought to be viewed as a philosopher and a truly benevolent man, future generations will make amends for the errors of their forefathers, by regarding him as a most worthy man, and by estimating his talents and character according to their real worth.
Thomas Paine was about five feet nine inches high, English measure, and about five feet six French measure. His bust was well proportioned; and his face oblong. Reflexion was the great expression of his face; in which was always seen the calm proceeding from a conscience void of reproach. His eye, which was black, was lively and piercing, and told us that he saw into the very heart of hearts [of any one who wished to deceive him].***
A most benignant smile expressed what he felt upon receiving an affectionate salutation, or praise delicately conveyed. His leg and foot were elegant, and he stood and walked upright, without stiffness or affectation. [He never wore a sword nor cane], but often walked with his hat in one hand and with his other hand behind his back. His countenance, when walking, was generally thoughtful. In receiving salutations he bowed very gracefully, and, if from an acquaintance, he did not begin with "how d' ye do?" but, with a "what news?" If they had none, he gave them his. His beard, his lips, his head, the motion of his eye-brow, all aided in developing his mind.
Was he where he got at the English or American newspapers, he hastened to over-run them all, like those who read to make extracts for their paper. His first glance was for the funds, which, in spite of jobbing and the tricks of government, he always looked on as the sure thermometer of public affairs. Parliamentary Debates, the Bills, concealing a true or sham opposition of such or such orators, the secret pay and violent theatrical declamation, or the revelations of public or private meetings at the taverns; these interested him so much that he longed for an ear and a heart to pour forth all his soul. When he added that he knew the Republican or the hypocrite, he would affirm, beforehand, that such or such a bill, such or such a measure, would take place; and very seldom, in such a case, the cunning politic or the clear-sighted observer was mistaken in his assertions; for they were not for him mere conjectures. He spoke of a future event as of a thing past and consummated. In a country where the slightest steps are expanded to open day, where the feeblest connexions are known from their beginning, and with all the views of ambition, of interest or rivalship, it is almost impossible to escape the eye of such an observer as Thomas Paine, whom no private interest could blind or bewitch, as was said by the clear-sighted Michael Montaigne.
His writings are generally perspicuous and full of light, and often they discover the sardonic and sharp smile of Voltaire. One may see that he wishes to wound to the quick; and that he hugs himself in his success. But Voltaire all at once overruns an immense space and resumes his vehement and dramatic step: Paine stops you, and points to the place where you ought to smile with him at the ingenious traits; a gift to envy and stupidity.
Thomas Paine did not like to be questioned. He used to say, that he thought nothing more impertinent, than to say to any body: "What do you think of that?" On his arrival at New York, he went to see General Gates. After the usual words of salutation, the General said: "I have always had it in mind, if I ever saw you again, to ask you whether you were married, as people have said." Paine not answering, the General went on: "Tell me how it is." "I never," said Paine, "answer impertinent questions."
Seemingly insensible and hard to himself, he was not so to the just wailings of the unhappy. Without any vehement expression of his sorrow, you might see him calling up all his powers, walking silently, thinking of the best means of consoling the unfortunate applicant; and never did they go from him without some rays of hope. And as his will was firm and settled, his efforts were always successful. The man hardened in vice and in courts [of law], yields more easily than one imagines to the manly entreaties of a disinterested benefactor.
Thomas Paine loved his friends with sincere and tender affection. His simplicity of heart and that happy kind of openness, or rather, carelessness, which charms our hearts in reading the fables of the good Lafontaine, made him extremely amiable. If little children were near him he patted them, searched his pockets for the store of cakes, biscuits, sugarplums, pieces of sugar, of which he used to take possession as of a treasure belonging to them, and the distribution of which belonged to him.* His conversation was unaffectedly simple and frank; his language natural; always abounding in curious anecdotes. He justly and fully seized the characters of all those of whom he related any singular traits. For his conversation was satyrick, instructive, full of witticisms. If he related an anecdote a second time, it was always in the same words and the same tone, like a comic actor who knows the place where he is to be applauded. He neither cut the tale short nor told it too circumstantially. It was real conversation, enlivened by digressions well brought in. The vivacity of his mind, and the numerous scenes of which he had been a spectator, or in which he had been an actor, rendered his narrations the more animated, his conversation more endearing. His memory was admirable. Politics were his favorite subject He never spoke on religious subjects, unless pressed to it, and never disputed about such matters. He could not speak French: he could understand it tolerably well when spoken to him, and he understood it when on paper perfectly well. He never went to the theatre: never spoke on dramatic subjects. He rather delighted in ridiculing poetry. He did not like it: he said it was not a serious thing, but a sport of the mind, which often had not common sense. His common reading was the affairs of the day; not a single newspaper escaped him; not a political discussion: he knew how to strike while the iron was hot; and, as he was always on the watch, he was always ready to write. Hence all his pamphlets have been popular and powerful. He wrote with composure and steadiness, as if under the guidance of a tutelary genius. If, for an instant, he stopped, it was always in the attitude of a man who listens. The Saint Jerome of Raphael would give a perfect idea of his contemplative recollection, to listen to the voice from on high which makes itself heard in the heart.
[It will be proper, I believe, to say here, that shortly after the Death of Thomas Paine a book appeared, under the Title of: The Life of Thomas Paine, by Cheethatn. In this libel my character was calumniated. I cited the Author before the Criminal Court of New York, He was tried and in spite of all his manoeuvres, he was found guilty.—M. B. de Bonneville.]
This last paragraph, in brackets, is in the writing of Madame Bonneville.
I am indebted to Mr. Robert Waters, of Jersey City, a biographer of Cobbett, for the suggestion, made through a friend, and so amply justified, that information concerning Paine might be derived from the Cobbett papers.
In 1785, John Hall, an able mechanician and admirable man, emigrated from Leicester, England, to Philadelphia, He carried letters to Paine, who found him a man after his own heart I am indebted to his relatives, Dr. Dutton Steele of Philadelphia and the Misses Steele, for Hall's journals, which extend over many years. It will be seen that the papers are of historical importance apart from their records concerning Paine. Hall's entries of his daily intercourse with Paine, which he never dreamed would see the light, represent a portraiture such as has rarely been secured of any character in history. The extent already reached by this work compels me to omit much that would impress the reader with the excellent work of John Hall himself, who largely advanced ironwork in New Jersey, and whose grave at Flemmington, surrounded by those of the relatives that followed him, and near the library and workshop he left, merits a noble monument.
"I went a day or two past with the Captain and his lady to see the exhibition of patriotic paintings. Paine the author of Common Sense is amongst them. He went from England (had been usher to a school) on board the same vessel that our Captain [Coltman] went in last time; their acquaintance then commenced and has continued ever since. He resides now in Bordentown in the Jerseys, and it is probable that I may see him before it be long as when he comes to town the Captain says he is sure to call on him. It is supposed the various States have made his circumstances easy—General Washington, said if they did not provide for him he would himself. I think his services were as useful as the sword."
Journal, 1785.
Nov. 16th. Received a Letter from Mr. Pain by his Boy, informing us of his coming this day. Between 3 and 4 Mr. Pain, Col. Kerbright [Kirkbride], and another gentleman came to our door in a waggon.
17th. At dinner Mr. Pain told us a tale of the Indians, he being at a meeting of them with others to settle some affairs in 1776. The Doctor visited Mr. Pain.
19th. Performed a trifling operation for Mr. Pain.
22d. A remark of Mr. Pain's—not to give a deciding opinion between two persons you are in friendship with, lest you lose one by it; whilst doing that between two persons, your supposed enemies, may make one your friend.
24th. This evening pulled Mr. Pain's Boy a tooth out.
Dec, 12. With much pain drawd the Board in at Hanna's chamber window to work Mr. Pain's bridge on. I pinned 6 more arches together which makes the whole 9. I sweat at it; Mr. Pain gives me some wine and water as I was very dry. Past 9 o'clock Dr. Hutchinson called in on Mr. Paine.
[The December journal is mainly occupied with mention of Paine's visitors Franklin, Gouverneur Morris, Dr. Rush, Tench Francis, Robert Morris, Rittenhouse, Redman. A rubber of whist in which Paine won is mentioned.]
Sunday Jan. 1st 1786. Mr. Paine went to dine with Dr. Franklin today; staid till after tea in the evening. They tried the burning of our candles by blowing a gentle current through them. It greatly improved the light. The draught of air is prevented by passing through a cold tube of tallow. The tin of the new lamp by internal reflections is heated and causes a constant current This is the Doctor's conjecture. [Concerning Paine's candle see i., p. 214.]
Feb. 25th. Mr. Paine not returned. We sent to all the places we could suppose him to be at and no tidings of him. We became very unhappy fearing his political enemies should have shown him foul play. Went to bed at 10 o.c, and about 2 o.c. a knocking at the door proves Mr. Paine.
March 10th. Before 7 o'c a brother saint-maker came with a model of machine to drive boats against stream.* He had communicated his scheme to H. who had made alterations and a company had taken it and refused saint-maker partnership. He would fain have given it to Mr. Paine or me, but I a stranger refused and Mr. Paine had enough hobbys of his own. Mr. Paine pointed out a mode to simplify his apparatus greatly. He gave him 5s. to send him one of his maps.
April 15th. Mr. Paine asked me to go and see Indian Chiefs of Sennaka Nation, I gladly assented. They have an interpreter. Mr. Paine wished to see him and made himself known to him by past remembrance as Common Sense, and was introduced into the room, addressed them as "brothers" and shook hands cordially Mr. Paine treated them with 2s. bowl of punch.
Bordentown Letter, May 28. Colonel Kirkbride is the gentleman in whose family I am. My patron [Paine] is likewise a boarder and makes his home here I am diligently employed in Saint making, now in Iron that I had before finished in wood, with some improvements, but you may come and see what it is.
Letter, June 4. Skepticism and Credulity are as general here as elsewhere, for what I see. In this town is a Quaker meeting and one of another class—I suppose of the Baptist cast—And a person in town a Tailor by trade that goes about a-soulmending on Sundays to various places, as most necessary, or I suppose advantageous, to himself; for by one trade or the other he has built himself a very elegant frame house in this town. This man's way to Heaven is somewhat different to the other. I am informed he makes publick dippings &c. My Employer has Common Sense enough to disbelieve most of the Common Systematic Theories of Divinity but does not seem to establish any for himself. The Colonel [Kirkbride] is as Free as John Coltman.
[Under date of New York, July 31st, Hall writes an account of a journey with Paine to Morrisania, to visit Gen. Morris, and afterwards to the farm at New Rochelle, of which he gives particulars already known to my reader.]
Letter of Paine to John Hall, at Capt. Coltman's, in Letitia Court, Market St, between Front and Second St. Philadelphia:
"Bordentown, Sep. 22, 1786.—Old Friend: In the first place I have settled with Mr. Gordon for the time he has been in the house—in the second I have put Mrs. Read who, you know has part of our house Col. Kirkbride's but is at this time at Lancaster, in possession by putting part of her goods into it.* By this means we shall have room at our house (Col. Kirkbride) for carrying on our operations. As Philadelphia is so injurious to your health and as apartments at Wm. Foulke's would not be convenient to you, we can now conveniently make room for you here. Mrs. Kirkbride mentioned this to me herself and it is by the choice of both her and Col. K. that I write it to you. I wish you could come up to-morrow (Sunday) and bring the iron with you. I shall be backward and forward between here and Philadelphia pretty often until the elections are over, but we can make a beginning here and what more iron we may want we can get at the Delaware Works, and if you should want to go to Mount hope you can more conveniently go from here than from Philadelphia—thus you see I have done your business since I have been up. The enclosed letter is for Mr. Henry who is member for Lancaster County. I do not know where he lodges, but if William will be so good as to give it to the door keeper or Clerk of the Assembly it will be safe. Bring up the walnut strips with you.