Diary of Charles Francis Adams, volume 8
1839-07-29
Clear. To town. Afternoon at home. Evening at the Mansion.
I went to town this morning, partly for the sake of accommodating my father who wished to go and partly to superintend the repairs going on in Acorn Street. I was also engaged in other business, particularly in attempting to bring to a close the accounts of the Estate of T. B. Adams. This has been hanging on a great while, and still bids fair to trouble me somewhat.
Returned to dinner. Afternoon, Tacitus, the fragment remaining of the fifth book with nine sections of the sixth. The dark period of the 272reign of Tiberius developes itself by degrees and shocks one more and more at every step. Evening at my father’s. Nothing new.
1839-07-30
Warm. To town. Afternoon at home. Evening at the Mansion.
Morning in the city again. Most of my time taken up with the Account of T. B. Adams which I at last brought into order. There is nothing now remaining but to pass it through the Probate Court, which I hope to do in a few days. The town quite alive with the accounts of the arrival of the British Queen, with news from England of a commercial character not very encouraging.1 There seems every indication of a crisis in money matters of a more serious and durable character than the last was. I know not the end.
Home. Read Tacitus, twenty sections of the sixth book, more obscure and doubtful text than the first three. Le Comte China and a little of Grimm. Took tea at the house below as my Wife had gone out to make a visit to Mrs. Seaver from which she returned at about eight.
The British Queen docked in New York on the 28th. It brought further reports of depressed cotton prices and increases in the interest rates (Boston Courier, 31 July, p. 2, cols. 1–4).
1839-07-31
Heavy southerly showers. At home all day, dine and evening at the Mansion.
My day passed very quietly. Most of the morning devoted to reading the second volume of the Correspondence of the Revolution. This contains the letters of Arthur Lee which as being more controversial than the rest are more entertaining. They are also well written. I also made some progress with Texier and a good deal with Meissner’s Alcibiades of which I do not form a very high opinion.
After dining at the Mansion, returned and read the remainder of the sixth book of the Annals. I make my study so long that I do not get on very fast with China or Grimm. Evening at my fathers.
Thus pass the months in a quiet and happy way. Nothing to put in a Diary worthy of a single remark and no reason to be otherwise than pleased that it is so.