Mary Louisa Michel Binckley Memoir, 1906 (and 1899): Part I

Mont Calm (aka Montcalm), Campbell house, Abingdon, Virginia. Source: Duke University*

[Mary Louisa/Louise Mitchell/Michel Binckley Memoir, 1906 (and 1899), Part I. Additional paragraph breaks inserted for easier reading.

 

Many thanks to William Myers, Mary Davy, Sally Young and Sue Davis for their ongoing research collaboration; specifically to William for providing scans of the original documents, and in turn many thanks to Peter Johnston Binckley and Patricia D'Arcy "Trish" Binckley (1951-2007), at the source.]                                                
                                                                December 19 20  1906

(The original was written in Saucilido [Sausalito, California] 7 years ago [1899]) 

To look back fifty sixty years or more must always be more or less painful to the average man or woman, for few lives of three-score but have had their griefs, cares and adventures that seem to start out sharply when age begins to dim the background of remembered pleasure. But I have promised to look back, and whether the fulfilling of a promise be hard or not, it must be done.

I must close my eyes on this landscape and recall the one I first remember with a child's queer distinctness of recollection for some salient points, while all the rest of life is misty.

A white house with veranda -- a green grassy yard and the shade of trees. An old apple tree under which I played with a baby brother. The faces of one or two negro servants, that of my nurse being clearest. My father's gay voice I can hear now, and even the memory of the strings in my heart faintly the delicious thrill that sound always brought me.

I can see mother as she was then with her fresh color and quiet ways, and I again stand and watch fascinated while Amy brushes out the great masses of mother's long fair hair, and can see it shine in the morning sunlight. 

This same Amy, by the way, was the one who was generally sent on errands into town (our cottage was in the western part of Abingdon, near what is now the dépot [aka dépôt].) and was sometimes allowed to take me out to walks. Once walking in a dark wood, she showed me a lonely cabin, and on my solemn promise not to tell "Miss Jane" if she told of its mysteries, in a tragic whisper informed me that in that lonely spot the doctors brought the bodies of '"bad [plural of n-word]" & boiled 'em into castor oil.'

Children then were required to take the vilest medicine without protest, but no earthly power ever succeeded in making me take castor oil.

Amy was also allowed sometimes the felicity of dressing me in my best (red morocco slippers I remember as one bit of grandeur) and taking me visiting. 

Once in a highly decorated condition I was taken up a long hill to Gov. Campbell's old mansion that stood among great trees. A severely stately old lady made polite enquiries as to the health of my family, and then bestowed upon me a large peach. But the bliss of possession was at once destroyed when I was made to go out on the veranda and eat it with my neck painfully stretched over the railing, so that no drop of juice could stain that spotless floor. 

This old lady (Gov. Campbell's wife) was noted in Abingdon for her stinginess (a very unusual trait then), her love of stately display where it could be done economically, and her excessive cleanliness. Having no children and a staff of well-trained servants, her ruling passions were easily carried to absurd lengths. 

Source: Find a Grave under "David Campbell (1779-1859)" 

[Mary Louisa/Louise Mitchell/Michel Binckley (1838-1930).
First memories are of "Lilliput." See 1841 letter from Jane (Mother), link here. 
Father = Harvey Mitchell/Michel (1799-1866).
Mother = Jane Mary Wood Johnston Mitchell/Michel (1811-1892).
Amy = enslaved servant. There are two Amys listed in the estate (dated 1832) of Peter Johnston, Jr. (1753-1831), and we may suppose that this Amy is one of them. Link here.
Campbells = David Campbell (1779-1859) and Mary Hamilton Campbell (1783-1859). Virginia Campbell, a niece, and David H.R. Campbell, a nephew, also lived there for a time.
*Linked to  Campbell Family Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University; photo from the collection of Professor Norma Taylor Mitchell. Link here.]

Filming at Duke: Volker Schlöndorff's 'The Handmaid's Tale' (1990)

Volker Schlöndorff's 1990 cinematic adaptation of Margaret Atwood's 1985 novel The Handmaid's Tale was partly filmed at Duke University, in Durham, North Carolina, in 1989. Here are a few snapshots that document the event.  

A hanging scene was filmed on the other side of this barrier. 

The Commander's convoy, ready to roll. I was working at Perkins Library at the time, in the Public Documents & Maps Department, specializing in state and international documents. 

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, October 24, 1987 (Part III)

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's another one of them (typed), from when I lived just off Little River Church Road in Hurdle Mills, North Carolina. He was residing at 17D Valley Terrace Apartments, 2836 Chapel Hill Road, Durham, North Carolina. This is Part III of the October 24, 1987 epistle. Ellipses indicate slight editing (deletion of a few personal details). Extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

In 1982, I traveled with my sister [L] around the U.S., to San Francisco and New Orleans; in '83, I convinced [W] to try Mardi Gras; in May '83, I drove with [X] to Boulder, Colorado.

That summer I was quickly persuaded to travel to Europe -- on impulse [cherchez la femme = "D"]. I knew that if I didn't go then, I would despise myself forever. 

During the course of that journey, I wandered around freely, exploring Paris and Rome, Munich, Copenhagen, Amsterdam, London & Zurich.

In Paris I met an entertaining German named Heinz who talked about Morrison over the latter's grave for hours until he bummed a Métro ticket from another visitor for destination unknown. This time Morrison's grave had a bust to mark the spot, along with a whole new set of graffiti inscriptions. 

[Y] & I . . . paid Jim a visit on May 1st, 1986, during communist, socialist & anarchist demonstrations in and around Père Lachaise. A knot of strange people sat around smoking, drinking and talking and looking at the latest inscriptions until gendarmes with rifles cleared us out. This time the bust was missing part of Jim's nose. 

The Doors seem to haunt everywhere I go. I remember hitch-hiking in Bavaria in '83 & being picked up by Germans who didn't say a word, just blasted "Riders on the Storm" and "When the Music's Over."

And in Toulouse, in May 1986, [Y] and I were put, at first, in the basement of a jazz club restaurant where speakers played, in eerie reverberation, the Doors. Upstairs only jazz played.

One final thing I wanted to mention. I was reading, a few weeks ago, Breton's Nadja. On one page I noted the photo of an unexplained manuscript in which is mentioned a Monsieur St. Bonnet. In a book full of subjective coincidence & mystical fates, I was struck by the fact that this is the surname of my mother's mother (Catherine St. Bonnet [1914-2009]); that only the week before, while reading Breton's poems in The Poetry of Surrealism, I lost a poem I wrote under the name of Alexander St. Bonnet!

                                             Very Sincerely Yours,
                                             Erik D. France

[Today, I received an email letting me know that my grandmother's brother Richard Nicholas St. Bonnet's (1910-1991) 1940 draft card had turned up in the historical record, and that his wife's middle name was the same as "Y's" first name. Catherine and Richard's father, Warren Nicholas St. Bonnet (1885-1918), died one hundred years ago this year in the Great Influenza Pandemic.]   

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, October 24, 1987 (Part II)

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's another one of them (typed), from when I lived just off Little River Church Road in Hurdle Mills, North Carolina. He was residing at 17D Valley Terrace Apartments, 2836 Chapel Hill Road, Durham, North Carolina. This is Part II of the October 24, 1987 epistle. Ellipses indicate slight editing (deletion of a few personal details). Extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

I wanted to tell you, as well, [h]ow the Doors really did act as doors of perception for me from age seventeen . . . 

I believe in the strange quirkiness of coincidence and chance, beginning with the proximity of my birthday to Morrison's . . . That John Lennon was shot and killed on the 8th . . .

I spent my sixth birthday in Justice, Illinois, south of Chicago; my eighth in St. Paul, Minnesota; ninth in Durham; and eighteenth in Lexington, Virginia, at the Virginia Military Institute as a Rat. 

One of my roommates, a guy from Connecticut [Carl], turned me on completely to Morrison & the Doors. My elder sister, Vickie, had a couple of their albums from the late sixties, and I had loved, for as long as I could remember, "Light My Fire" and "Riders on the Storm," but VMI provided the right atmosphere for me to be completely won over by Morrison. 

"No one can scream like Jim Morrison" was my roommate's boast. 

I hated VMI and left after a semester. . . I transferred to UNC-Chapel Hill . . . growing beards and shaving them every few months, wearing dashikis, etc. -- until making a decision to head for Europe with a history class. 

I made a new friend on the trip and dragged him [W] along with me to see Père Lachaise and especially "Jim."

There it was, a modest site stuck between elevated stone markers, graffiti on all the neighbors' tombs. 

I read No One Here Gets Out Alive and was struck by the fact that there was no marker whatsoever, just unmistakable signs ("JIM---") & drunken, bizarre visitors.

By the time we got back to the USA, I was reading more voraciously and wildly.

Another friend of mine [K] had also been tuned into Morrison & the Doors simultaneously. 

Vickie sparked my interest in Jack Kerouac & the Beat Generation and also, since she had majored in French Literature at NC State University, French lit. 

I have been scrambling ever since, reading in translation Balzac, Gide, Camus, Sartre,  Céline, Jarry, some of Proust, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, and recently, Lautréamont, Apollinaire, Arp, Breton, and Russians (Dostoevsky especially), your Age of Surrealism (which was highly recommended by Judy Hogan), and your study of Lautréamont.

I remember . . . working at Pizza Transit Authority, reading Baudelaire & Rimbaud aloud with [K] & hooting with laughter . . . laughing about gnawing the ends of rifle butts and centers radiating universal stupidity, which is how we looked at our absurd jobs at the time delivering pizzas. 

[End Part II. Conclusion in next post.]

                                                

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, October 24, 1987 (Part I)

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's another one of them (typed), from when I lived just off Little River Church Road in Hurdle Mills, North Carolina. He was residing at 17D Valley Terrace Apartments, 2836 Chapel Hill Road, Durham, North Carolina. Ellipses indicate slight editing (deletion of a few personal details). For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

                                                October 24th 1987
                                                Little River Church Rd.

Dear Professor Fowlie,

After hearing you speak about the artworks from your collection in the North Gallery, and particularly after chatting with you briefly a few days later at the Durham County Library with Judy Hogan, I felt compelled to communicate with you on a more personal level. Since I work during the day in Public Documents and have no opportunity to sit in on your Dante class, I thought the next best thing would be to write you a letter.

The influence of Rimbaud on rock music provides a fascinating and well-grounded thesis which I urge you to expand upon. In the Rimbaud lecture you mentioned an interview of Bob Dylan by Allan Ginsberg; so I though you might also be interested in a song by the now-defunct musical group "The Clash," which actually includes recitation of poetry by Ginsberg. 

At the risk of saying things you already know, a couple of prefatory sentences are in order. The Clash, an English group, released their first album at the height of the Punk Rock movement in Britain (1977), made a total of six albums (The Clash, Give 'Em Enough Rope, London Calling, Sandinista!, Combat Rock and Cut the Crap) before disintegrating about a year ago. They were considered by many rock critics an important voice of "youth in rebellion." 

The song "Ghetto Defendant" is on side two of Combat Rock (1982). Joe Strummer and Mick Jones sing one part of the song while Ginsberg speaks the other, to music. Ginsberg opens with: [quoted lyrics follow in the original.]

Can it be that "graphed in a jiffy" refers to the Picasso sketch on the cover of your Rimbaud: Complete Works?

What is unclear is how much influence Ginsberg himself had on the lyrics to "Ghetto Defendant." The exclusive credits are given to The Clash on the record sleeve. As you mentioned in the lecture, Ginsberg is an admirer of Rimbaud. (As was his friend Jack Kerouac, whose 1960 poem "Rimbaud" I discovered in Scattered Poems about five years ago -- I had never seen it before). Perhaps this may be of some use to you.  

[End Part I. Continued in next post.]

[Judy Hogan (1937-) = founder of Carolina Wren Press. If I recall correctly, she gave writing/poetry workshops at the Public Library.

Public Documents = one of my places of employment, situated in the basement of Perkins Library, Duke University West Campus. I was a library clerk, library assistant and professional intern there before moving on. One of my last projects was overseeing the preservation of League of Nations documents and making a display on the Great War and the 1920s.] 

Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, July 4, 1992

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's one of them, from when I lived on Spruce Street. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

                                  July 4th 1992
                                   Philadelphia

Dear Wallace,

It has been a long time since I've heard from you, and I hope all's well with you. I will call you after sending this letter to make sure you are all right.

My first semester in the Ph.D program went very well. I have only to write one paper this summer, and am working here through temporary agencies through August at least. The fall semester doesn't begin until September.  

With about ten other people, I am working as a general and music editor for a new magazine called Quo Moto [Quo Modo] Quarterly. The first issue is scheduled to come out in the fall. I'm writing an article about the Ephrata Cloister in Ephrata, Pennsylvania.  I am also working on a short story. I should finish both of these this summer.

[Deleted paragraph].

If you can, please let me know how you are, how your spring semester went, and what your plans are. I am anxious to hear from you!

                                                     As Ever,
                                                         Erik

P.S. I'm listening to Édith Piaf  

Algernon Sidney Johnston to Louisa Smith Bowen Johnston, May 16 [circa 1826 or 1827]

[Algernon Sidney Johnston at [Virginia] to "My D'r Friends" Louisa J. Johnston et alia at [Virginia], May 16, [circa 1826 or 1827], Box 1, John Warfield Johnston Papers, 1778-1890, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. This hand-delivered letter looks to have been hastily scrawled. It is difficult to decipher, but here is my rough transcription.]

My D'r Friends

I must try and write a few lines to you, you who will will ever be dear to my heart both of you as well as my dear John, I see no boy and thing like him except dear Mr. Moncure's son. Heaven grant they both be many things they [aspire to be].

I send a little present for my Ellen and yourself to let you see I remember you at all times. Louisa Blair[?] went immediately to see her sister, she gave me a [?] with her warm affections for you, she never has time to write. I believe I shall go to the North in the first steam boat after the 25th which will be the [?] often, my regards to [?] with my[?] which I have sent before in a long letter to you and Ellen but I do not know that you have ever received it, written the day after I received yours.

I have not heard from the Major yet. I send the pattern of a [?] for you and Ellen. I have sent you another but fear it will not get here time enugh to put up.

Sister C[?] sends her love to you and Ellen, and give mine to little Henry and your [?] sister. [N]othing would be more interesting to me then to see you all and my dear afflicted Jane. 

Heaven only knows where it will be, God bless you all and in Heaven, perhaps you may be at the Convention. I know it would be productive of the highest satisfaction . . . you and I can not help hoping you may be there if you are write and tell me what you think.

Adieu my dear dear very dear friends should you see the Major or Beverly remember me to them, I am compelled to write a short letter my heart is full towards you.

                                                         A. S. Johnston

[p.s.] I have this moment received your letter.

[Algernon Sidney Johnston (1801-1852)
Louisa Smith Bowen Johnston (1800-1873)
John = John Warfield Johnston (1818-1889)
Mr. Moncure's son = [not sure who they are at the time of this post.]
Ellen = Ellen Eleanor Bowen (1817-1850)
Louisa Blair = [not sure who she is at the time of this post.]
The Major = Peter Carr Johnston (1793-1877)
Sister C = [not sure who she is at the time of this post.]
Little Henry = Henry Smith Bowen (1820-1887)
Jane = either Louisa Smith Bowen Johnston's sister Jane Campbell Bowen Edmiston/Edmondson (1798-1841) or Algernon's sister, Jane Wood Johnston (1811-1892).
Bev = Beverly Randolph Johnston (1803-1876).]

For their help and assistance, many thanks to the staff of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. For more information about the Campbell Family Papers (1731-1969), here's a link to the guide.     

[Many thanks to Sue Davis, William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]

A Brief Account of the Richmond Theatre Fire of December 26, 1811

A copy of this can be found in Alexander W. Weddell, Richmond, Virginia, in Old Prints. 1737-1887 (Richmond, 1932), plate 12.

[John Campbell at Richmond to David Campbell at Abingdon, Virginia, December 27, 1811, Box 1, Campbell Family Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. This is my rough transcription. Use of the long 's' modernized; extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading.]

Dear Brother

The happiness of Richmond is destroy'd forever. Last night I witness'd a scene more pictur'd with horror & distress than any of which I have ever heard or read! Yes, it is without a parallel in the annals of the world!

A number of the brightest ornaments of Richmond have been consum'd in the flames!

The Theatre took fire last night about 11 O'clock when were in it about 800 people one hundred of whom have been burnt up!

Governor Smith Mr Abram Venable Mr Botts and his Wife Miss Luisa Mayo Miss Conyers Mrs Galigo Mrs Wilson Miss Nelson Miss Robison & Mrs Greenbow are among the number!!! 

Allen Taylor and Mr Standard of our house have been nearly kill'd. They will both recover it is thought.

The scenery of the stage caught fire from a candle and, such were the rapidity of the flames that in a few minutes the whole Theatre was in a conflagration. And so great was the alarm and confusion, hundreds pressing forward to the same door, that numbers were . . . down & suffocated with the smoak [smoke]. Others were kill'd by jumping from the windows.

I was sitting reading in my room when I heard the alarm. I ran down stairs & saw it was the Theatre. I mov'd on as rapidly as I could to the awful scene! I enquir'd as I ran if the people were saved. The answer was No hundreds of them are burning up!!

When I arrived I was told that the windows on the opposite side of the Theatre were full of persons expiring in the flames!! 

My ears were stunn'd with cries & shrieks and screams! My heart sank within me I could approach no farther. I saw numbers that were carried away half burnt up.

The husband supporting his wife and the child his dying parent. . .

Don't suppose the picture is too highly colour'd. O! My God I wish it was.

The whole City is bath'd in tears. Almost every person having lost either a Father a mother a child a Wife or a sister.

The Legislature will adjourn for several days. For years will Richmond hear nothing but the cries of sorrow, the moans of the widow & the lamentations of the friend.

I write in great haste. Shew this letter to all my friends. Farther particulars you will hear in a short time. 

May heaven preserve you all from the woes & calamities which are now seen here in every part of the place.

                                                                         Adieu affectionately
                                                                                John Campbell

[John Campbell (1789-1866). Later became Secretary of the Treasury under Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren.
David Campbell (1779-1859)
George William Smith (1762-December 26, 1811) 
Abraham Bedford Venable (1758-1811) had been President of the Bank of Virginia and a trustee of Hamden-Sydney College.
Peter Johnston, Jr. (1763-1831) had, fortunately for his family, removed to Abingdon earlier in the year. 
Allen Taylor = possibly related to John Taylor (1753-1824).]
     
For their help and assistance, many thanks to the staff of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. For more information about the Campbell Family Papers (1731-1969), here's a link to the guide.     

[Many thanks to Sue Davis, William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]

Edward Campbell to David Campbell, September 12, 1812

Northern front (Royal Military College of Canada)

[Edward Campbell at Abingdon, Virginia, to David Campbell in the field, September 12, 1812, Box 2, Campbell Family Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. This is my rough transcription. Use of the long 's' modernized; extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading.]

Dear Brother

I received your letter dated on the 22d of August, in which you promised to write to me again before you left Winchester. Not having received anything from you since, has led me to conclude that you have either not written, or your letter has miscarried. I had delayed writing sooner that I might receive that letter, but as our little Village has been the victim of calamity, I have forborne to wait longer.

On last Thursday night we were alarmed, about 12 O'clock with the cry of fire. I hastened to the spot and found Col. Preston's new brick house all in flames, set on fire, no doubt, by the hand of some infernal, hellish incendiary. The new Courthouse was also set on fire, but was discovered before any damage was done and extinguished.

The night was calm, the inclination of the wind, (which was astir, tho') being Westward, there was no possibility of stopping the fury of the devouring element until it arrived at William Trigg's. There we made a vigorous effort and there we succeeded in stopping its ravages.

All the houses on that side of the street, between that and the corner were laid in ruins. No lives were lost nor any injured except one or two slightly. The citizens generally saved their property or the most of it. It was an awful night you may rest assured; but there seemed to be less alarm among the citizens than I would have suppos'd.

Maria has been unwell for several days with the jaundice, a complaint which seems to be very prevalent here at this time: tho' I'm in hopes she will be well enough in a few days. She wrote to you by the last Sunday's mail and mentioned that we would not finally determine until we had heard from you again, as to the course we should adopt. 

She also mentioned the cancer which afflicts our sister Eliza. I intend having it removed as soon as possible. She seems willing to do any thing that I may advise. The doctor told me the other day that it would be nearly as large as a goose's egg.

Your maid is also down. 'Tis said with the pox, and the doctor says she must be salivated, which will require about two months.

I assure you sir I have my hands full; but go on with s much alacrity as the nature of things will permit. form the uncertainty as to the manner and time of Maria's departure, I am placed in rather an unpleasant situation. I know not on what to resolve, you will therefore be explicit on that subject, for unless you are so, there can be no concert between us. If you intend sending a carriage let me know on what I am to depend, and make my arrangements to carry Maria to any point on the Continent where she would wish to go: but I would rather have done so before the intense cold weather would set in.

Maria says nothing about going to Tennessee. Nor do I believe she will want to go that course while a hope remains of going towards the North. I have not yet got your pistols from Gilliland but will as soon as possible and bring or send them to you.

We have heard of Hull's disgrace, I can call it nothing better. [Brigadier General William Hull surrendered Detroit to the British on August 16, 1812.] Some of us here do not credit the account & I for one. For is it possible that 2 or 3,000 men, Americans too -- the sons of liberty would willingly surrender to any foe on the whole face of the earth, without a single effort, when defended by a strongly fortified garrison, unless there was the most damnable treachery in the commander[?] Yet this is [the] account we have received. I cannot, will [not] believe it until I see an official statement well authenticated.

Mr. Edmiston showed me your letter the other day but did not tell me what he intended doing. Capt. Henry marched from this place on this day week with about sixty men for Philadelphia.

I have written in haste and in the warmth of a brother's hand

                                                            Must bid you
                                                                            Adieu
                                                                                    Edward

[Edward Campbell (1781-1833)
David Campbell (1779-1859). Serving as Major, Twelfth U.S. Infantry. Edward's letter was originally addressed to Reading, Pennsylvania, scratched out and "Albany or Buffaloe" added for updated address along the way. 
Maria Hamilton Campbell (1783-1859)
Eliza Campbell (1787-?)
Col. Preston = William Smith Preston (1765-1835)
William Trigg (1784-1813)
William Hull  (1753-1825), for cowardice and dereliction of duty, was sentenced to death by firing squad but spared by President James Madison.
Mr. Edmiston = possibly Captain John Montgomery Edmiston (1764-1813), veteran of King's Mountain (1780), killed in action at River Raisin on January 22, 1813. 
Around this time, Peter Johnston, Jr. (1763-1831), moved with his family from Prince Edward County to Abingdon.]
     
For their help and assistance, many thanks to the staff of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. For more information about the Campbell Family Papers (1731-1969), here's a link to the guide.     

[Many thanks to Sue Davis, William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]

John Campbell to David Campbell, February 1, 1811

[John Campbell at Richmond to David Campbell at Abingdon, Virginia, February 1, 1811, Box 1, Campbell Family Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. This is my rough transcription. Use of the long 's' modernized; extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading.]

Dear Brother

The election for a Judge of the general Court to supply the vacancy occasioned by the promotion of Judge Brook to the Court of Appeals has just taken place. Gen Peter Johnson [Johnston] (of Prince Edward) has been appointed.

The votes by the first ballot stood thus. For Johnson [Johnston] 125 for Thos Preston 27 for Smith (the Lieutenant Governor) 27 so that Johnson [Johnston] was duly elected by the first ballot.

I have not time to amuse you with the various circumstances attending this election. I never felt more difficulty on a subject in my life. The above mention'd gentlemen were the only persons that were named who would accept of the appointment.

The characters of Johnson [Johnston]  and Preston you know. Smith is a dunce. Now who would you have chosen? Taking all the circumstances into consideration, I voted for Preston. Allen Taylor could not have been elected. He has made one or two rank federal speeches this Session in consequence of which he has become unpopular.

I acknowledge I choose between evils. I by no means felt satisfied with the choice yet I expect it was as good as I could have made. Johnson [Johnston] was represented to the House by a number of gentlemen as an excellent judge of law as an old revolutionary soldier as a man of fine natural understanding expanded & improved by great literary information.

I will amuse you when I see you. This Session may be justly call'd the celebrated Session of Appointments.

Such maneuvering & intriguing you have no idea of. State in testick's[?] paper that Gen Johnson [Johnston] has been appointed. Say nothing about the other Candidates.

Tell Sister Maria I was last night at a Levee at Geo Hay's where I saw all the great folks of the place that I there received an invitation from a charming girl to spend this evening at her Father's whether I shall repair so soon as I can put on clean clothes.

Excuse me dear brother for my brevity. I shall see you again.

Tomorrow I will write to Sister Maria.

Vale et Salve [take care and greetings]
John Campbell

[John Campbell (1789-1866). Later became Secretary of the Treasury under Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren.
David Campbell (1779-1859)
Maria Hamilton Campbell (1783-1859)
Francis Taliaferro Brooke (1763-1851). There is a portrait of him here that may been painted by Harvey Mitchell/Michel (1799-1866).
George William Smith (1762-December 26, 1811) died in the Richmond Theatre Fire at the end of the year.
Peter Johnston, Jr. (1763-1831)
Thomas Preston = probably Thomas Lewis Preston (1781-1812), Virginia House of Delegates (Rockbridge County).
Allen Taylor = possibly related to John Taylor (1753-1824).]
     
For their help and assistance, many thanks to the staff of the David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. For more information about the Campbell Family Papers (1731-1969), here's a link to the guide.     

[Many thanks to Sue Davis, William Myers, Mary Davy and Sally Young for their ongoing research collaboration.]