Litchfield, Connecticut
April the 10th, 1785

Dear Husband,

This morning broke with the softest light upon our orchard, and I thought at once of you. The pear trees have begun to bud. It's a comfort to see the fruits of our labours over the years endure once again, even as you are called to toil for the good of a still-unsettled nation.

I am told by Mrs. Ingersoll that the debates in Congress grow more impassioned by the day. I trust your temper has not gotten the better of you, though I do confess I can see you now, walking the length of the chamber, hands clasped behind your back, your brow drawn in thought. You have ever been more inclined to action than empty speech, yet I pray your words carry weight with those who govern by noise rather than reason.

The children are in good health, thank Providence. James declares he espied a fox at the edge of the field yesterday, and in a most serious tone christened it "a Congressional fox" by which he meant, I believe, something sly, swift, and prone to vanishing when sought.

He has asked if you might find time in your schedule to procure him a proper quill, "one employed by a real statesman," he says.

I told him his father is the finest of them all.

The household continues on, though I would not deceive you by pretending all is ease. The weariness of the war lingers in the hearts of many, and in mine, too, at times. As I am sure it is in yours. There is peace, but not yet rest here in Litchfield. This of most, you would know. I find solace in the tending of small things in bread, your letters, and in the evening when the children are put to bed.

If you are able to procure anything from your stay in Philadelphia, I must say that I do not envy the fine talk, nor the empty finery worn by certain ladies who call it influence. Though if anything, I do desire some deserts for the children. They have been well-behaved in your absence.

Write to me when you are able, my dearest husband. Your words are ever a balm to my heart. Return to us soon. The orchard waits, and so do I.

I remain, with the sincerest affection,
Your faithful and loving wife,

Clary Tallmadge.