Executive Mansion,
Aug. 19, 1861.
MY DEAR SIR:
I am the unluckiest wretch that lives. I did not receive the
kind note you sent me until Friday night at Long Branch. As it was horribly
dull there, I concluded instantly upon reading your kind invitation, to return
to New York and go to you Saturday afternoon. But then I found there was no
telegraphic station at Irvington or Dobb's Ferry, and that I could not apprize
you of my coming. I went down town and lunched with Mr. Roosevelt at Exchange
Place. Coming back I was thunder-struck to find you had been at my hotel and
were gone.
There were only three resources left me: — Suicide,
intoxication or profanity. As I never drink and am still living, you can
imagine which I chose. I thought my stupidity could only be expiated by a
rigorous penance. So I resolved not to return to Long Branch, not to enjoy
myself in New York, but to go sulkily back to Washington and stay at my desk
until my luck changed.
Some day, before long, I will take my fate by the throat and
conquer it. It has become a monomania with me to eat salt with you at Nevis,
and it shall be done.
Very gratefully.
[JOHN HAY.]
SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and
Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 34-5; Michael Burlingtame, Editor, At Lincoln’s Side: John Hay’s Civil War
Correspondence and Selected Writings, p.10.
