William Smith Shaw to Abigail (daughter of JA and AA) Adams, November 24, 1799

Union Camp, Nov. 24th, 1799.

I had the pleasure, my dear, of receiving your favour of
the 20th yesterday. 1 * * * *
* * * *

You say you often think of me, enduring, as I must, many
hardships and inconveniences; they are, however, hardships and
inconveniences which scarce deserve regard, relating only to the person; the
pains which really incommode, are in the mind, occasioned by delays in the
supply of the necessary materials. I have been so annoyed by drones, that I
have assumed the command of every thing; contractors, burners of brick, venders of boards, and all the horses and
wagons in the country, and have given a new spring and turn to all our
gloomy prospects. My troops will all be covered; their houses are built, and
most of their chimneys rise above the roof, so that if the storms do come severely, they can go to cover. The
officers are now busied about theirs, and many are in considerable
forwardness. For my own, I laid the first beam yesterday, at noon; if I am
able to strike my tent the second week in December, I shall be content; but
I will not go into a house before the troops are all comfortably cantoned.
Do not be uneasy, I shall not suffer. I am above what the world calls
suffering; I am a stranger to that state of mind which accompanies or
occasions the sufferings in others. No officer or soldier, or even any of
the inhabitants, dare say it’s cold in camp. A laughable circumstance
occurred the other morning, just after the beating of the réveillé drum, when the surface of the earth
was covered with a strong frost. I was walking to the huts, was overtaken by
a countryman who had brought poultry to market; who communicated his errand,
and said, rubbing his hands, and teeth chattering, “‘tis a plaguy sharp
morning, Colonel; ’tis terribly cold.” “Are you cold, my friend?” “Yes, very.” “Here, sergeant of the guard, take this
friend of mine, put him by the guard fire, put a sentinel over him, turn
him, but don’t baste him, until he is about half roasted; for no man must be
cold in this camp. And every man hereafter who imagines himself so, and
presumes to express it, must be roasted; for it is a fine, pleasant morning,
and the weather will continue fine until our huts are built.” The countryman
had not long been by the fire, before he began to beg. I kept near; at
length he called to me, “For goodness sake, Colonel, let me go; they’ll
roast me! Forgive me this time, and if I am half froze to death, I’ll never
say it’s cold, when I am in camp again.” I let him off, in a perspiration.
It is now fine fun for the soldiers; if any of them happen to say it’s cold,
his comrades take him, neck and heels, and carry him to the fire, and amuse
themselves much with this trifle. Let it be ever so sharp, the soldiers say,
“It is a beautiful, fine day, huzza!”

After assuming the direction of every thing, I wrote to
General Hamilton what I had done, and the different turn our affairs had
taken. He answered on the 13th: “I have received your letters of the 10th,
11th, and 12th. The lateness of the season, and the absolute necessity of
putting the men under cover, justify the extraordinary measures which you
have taken.” On the 15th he writes: “I am happy to find you are in a fair
way of surmounting all your difficulties. The spirit of the troops, the harmony
among the officers, and the good understanding between the soldiers and
citizens, give me real pleasure, and do honour to the commanding officer,”
&c. 2

I am pleased to hear of Mrs. M——; present me to her. The
Tenth Regiment had better be here, than at Carlisle. Had I done as Col.
Moore, I might have wintered in Amboy; for when I landed there, there was no
timber procured, nor tools provided to work with; but I persevered, not
wishing to spoil my soldiers by quartering them in a town. 3 We are now doing well, and I would
not change with any who have barracks in a city. Is it not rather singular
that the Secretary of War should inquire the form and dimensions of my hut? He sent me, through his agent, all the
plans and dimensions minutely arranged. 4 Ask him what those dimensions
were, and whether any alterations have been made in his original project?
You might with more propriety ask him what allowance he had made for your
accommodation, than he to put the question he did. A minister of war should
know every thing, or at least not appear to be ignorant of any thing in his
department. I suspect Gen. Pinckney will not pass much of his winter at
Harper’s Ferry, nor Col. Moore trouble Carlisle long with his presence. 5 There will be so many
necessary arrangements to be made with the war minister, and other
departments of government, that it is probable they will both be a
considerable time, or very often in Philadelphia. You must not be any way
apprehensive of the democrats producing any disorder in my camp. I shall
soon, if they show their cloven foot within the sphere of my command, put
them in checkmate with my knights and castles, supported by my queen and
bishops. I find no difficulty in introducing and supporting discipline. The
brigade will be ready to meet a legion of devils on horseback, whenever the
order is given, and are now disposed to do every thing I choose to order, or
even look, as if I wish to have done. The real dignity of military command
shall never be tarnished in my hands. I will preserve it pure and
unblemished for my country’s glory, which must and will shine resplendent in
arms, should circumstances offer. I am glad my watch is repaired; take care
of her. I suspect you of a little inattention to these delicate machines.
Never was a watch went better than yours has since I have had her. After the
first 24 hours, she partook of the regularity of her master, and has
discovered no disposition to deviate. Would it not be best to let mine
remain unopened until I see you? Keep her going and warm, and she’ll be
true. * * *

Give my love to my dear baby and kiss her for me. As soon
as my hut is fit to receive you, I will
send you information, and welcome you to it. Can the chariot be spared to
convey you here? or shall I send for you? * * *

With respect to the black horse, they are about killing
him, as they do others, with kindness; the horses, when not used by the
family, should be regularly and gently exercised every day; they should at
least be walked to the Schuylkill, or Kensington; and the shore at the
latter place admitting of horses being rode in the water, it ought to be
practised often; it cools their feet, which, without exercise and washing,
will invariably get heated with grain. They should not be allowed to use
corn in their feed; eight quarts of oats and four of good bran, mixed,
allowing three messes a day for each horse, is abundantly sufficient for the
President’s horses; more, is waste and injurious. Previous to a journey,
they should have oats entirely for six days; this method of feed will give
them a clean coat, cool their chests, and recover their feet. On a journey,
the servants should be prohibited from feeding in the morning. When the
journey of the day is finished, the horses perfectly cool, cleaned, and
watered, you cannot put too much before them; they will eat half a bushel,
and clean the trough; then through the day they want no more, unless you
stop two hours at dinner; then if cool, four quarts may be given to the
carriage horses, but only two to saddle horses: the grain is more apt to
affect the feet of a saddle than a carriage horse. I am sorry for the black;
he never with me, was either sick, lame, or lazy.

You asked it, or I should not trouble you with
information about horses legs, &c.

God bless you.

W. S. Smith.