Genuine moral courage is a sterling quality that ennobles and dignifies
the man. It invigorates the mind like an impregning cloud—shedding
its gentle dews on the flowers of spring. It is a heavenly
spark, animating the immortal soul with the fire of divinity that illuminates
the path of rectitude. It is an attribute that opposes all
wrong and propels its subject right onward to the fearless performance
of all right. It is based upon virtue and equity, and spurns vice
in all its borrowed and delusive forms. It courts no servile favours—it
fears no earthly scrutiny. No flattery can seduce it, no eclat
can allure it, no bribe can purchase it, no tyrant can awe it, no misfortune
can bend it, no intrigue can corrupt it, no adversity can quench
it, no tortures can subdue it. Its motto is—“Fiat justitia, ruat
cœlum.” [Let justice be done though the heavens should fall.] Without
it, fame is ephemeral and renown transient. It is the saline basis
of a good name that gives richness to its memory. It is a pillar of light
to revolving thought, and the polar star that points to duty and leads
to merit. It is the soul of reason, the essence of wisdom, and the
crowning glory of mental power. It was this that influenced the
signers of the declaration of independence and nerved them for the
conflict.
No one among them was more fully imbued with it than John
Adams. He was a native of Quincy, Massachusetts, and born on the
19th of October, (O. S.) 1735. He was the fourth in descent from
Henry Adams, whose tomb bears this singular inscription—“He took
his flight from the dragon persecution, in Devonshire, England, and
alighted, with eight sons, near Mount Wollaston.” In childhood the
career of John Adams was marked with a rapid developement of strong
intellectual powers, which were skilfully cultivated by Mr. Marsh,
at Braintree, a celebrated and successful teacher. At the age of sixteen
years he entered Harvard College, at Cambridge, where he became
a finished scholar and graduated at the age of twenty. He gained
a high reputation for frankness, honesty and untiring industry, and
was greatly esteemed by the professors and his classmates.
From college he proceeded to Worcester, commenced the study
of law under Mr. Putnam, and finished with Mr. Gridley, supporting
himself in the mean time by teaching a grammar class. At that early
age he possessed wisdom to perceive right, and moral courage to pursue
it. In view of the past and present, he made a philosophic grasp
at the future, as will appear from the following extract from a letter
written by him on the 12th of October, 1755, shortly after he took up
his residence at Worcester.
“Soon after the reformation a few people came over into this new
world for conscience sake. Perhaps this apparently trivial incident
may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It looks likely
to me, if we can remove the turbulent Gallics, our people, according
to the exactest computations, will, in another century, become more
numerous than England herself. Should this be the case, since we
have, I may say, all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it will
be easy to obtain the mastery of the seas, and then the united force of
all Europe will not be able to subdue us. The only way to keep us
from setting up for ourselves—is to disunite us. * * * Keep us
in distinct colonies, and then some men in each colony, desiring the
monarchy of the whole, will destroy each other’s influence and keep
the country in equilibrio.”
This broad and expansive view of the future, conceived by a youth,
was very remarkable. He saw the one thing needful to render our
nation powerful—the creation of a navy—for which nature has given
us all the stores. The paralysis that pervades our government in its
naval improvements has long astonished the nations of the old world,
and a few of our own statesmen. The time will arrive when our country
will be made to feel most keenly—that “a navy is the right arm
of defence.”
After pursuing his studies three years, Mr. Adams was admitted to
the practice of law. He then commenced his professional career at
Braintree. Questions of constitutional right and law had already become
the subject of investigation and a root of bitterness between the
colonists and the officers of the crown. The latter, that were engaged
in the custom-house, claimed unlimited power to search the private
dwellings of all persons whom they suspected of having dutiable goods.
This suspicion, or pretended suspicion, often arose from personal animosity,
without a shadow of evidence or reasonable cause. The right of
search was of course resisted as arbitrary, unconstitutional and assumed.
This led to an application to the superior court for “writs of assistance,”
which may be considered as one of the first germs of the revolution.
Mr. Gridley, who had led Mr. Adams to the bar, and was
then his friend and admirer, maintained the legality of the proceeding,
not upon the ground of constitutional law, but from the necessity of
the case in order to protect the revenue. Mr. Adams took a deep
interest in the question, which was finally argued before the superior
court at Boston, by Mr. Gridley for the crown and Mr. Otis for the
people. In listening to the latter gentleman, a fire of patriotism was
kindled in the bosom of Mr. Adams, that death alone could extinguish.
He asserted in after life, that “Mr. Otis’s oration against writs of
assistance, breathed into this nation the breath of life. * * * American
independence was then and there born. * * * Every man of
an immense crowded audience appeared to me to go away, as I did,
ready to take up arms against writs of assistance. Then and there
was the first scene of the first act of opposition to the arbitrary claims
of Great Britain.”
The court publicly decided against the writs, but secretly issued
them. That people had their houses searched to satisfy revenge, will
appear from the following described incident.
“Mr. Justice Wally had called Mr. Ware, one of the persons in
possession of such a writ, before him, by a constable, to answer for a
breach of the Sabbath-day acts, or for profane swearing. As soon as
he had finished, Mr. Ware asked him if he had done. He replied—yes.
Well, then, said Mr. Ware, I will show you a little of my
power. I command you to permit me to search your house for uncustomed
goods—and went on to search his house from garret to cellar—and
then served the constable in the same manner.”
We can readily imagine the natural consequences of such a procedure,
against which Mr. Adams at once took a bold and decided stand.
The assembly also interfered in behalf of the people, and in 1762 prepared
a bill to prevent these writs from being issued to any but custom-house
officers, and to them only upon a specific information on
oath—which bill was vetoed by the governor. As a blow at the royal
authority this was well aimed, and showed a disposition in the members
to do the will of their constituents. As a retaliative measure
they reduced the salary of the judges.
In 1761, Mr. Adams attained the rank of barrister and rose to eminence
in his profession. In 1764, he married the accomplished Miss
Abigail, the daughter of the Rev. William Smith, who participated
with him in the changing scenes of life for fifty-four years. The following
extract from a letter written by her to a friend, after the commencement
of the revolution, will exhibit the strength of her mind
and the patriotic feelings of the ladies at that eventful era.
“Heaven is our witness that we do not rejoice in the effusion of
blood or the carnage of the human species—but, having been forced to
draw the sword, we are determined never to sheathe it—slaves to Britain.
Our cause, sir, I trust, is the cause of truth and justice, and will
finally prevail, though the combined force of earth and hell should rise
against it. To this cause I have sacrificed much of my own personal
happiness, by giving up to the councils of America one of my nearest
connexions, and living for more than three years in a state of widowhood.”
When the stamp act was passed, the fire of indignation against lawless
oppression rose in the bosom of Mr. Adams to a luminous flame.
He at once became a public man, and entered into a defence of chartered
rights and rational freedom. He published an “Essay on the
Canon and Feudal Law,” which placed him on a lofty eminence as
an able and vigorous writer. Its raciness penetrated the joints and
marrow of royal power as practised, and the parliamentary legislation
as assumed. He traced the former law to its original source—the
Roman clergy—by them subtlely planned, extensively exercised and
acutely managed, to effect their own aggrandizement. He then delineated
the servile dogmas of the latter, that made each manor the
miniature kingdom of a petty tyrant. He then drew a vivid picture
of their powerful but unholy confederacy, by which they spread the
mantle of ignorance over the world, drove virtue from the earth, and
commenced the era of mental obscurity. He then explored the labyrinthian
mazes of the dark ages, portrayed the first glimmerings of
returning light, travelled through the gigantic struggles of the reformation
amidst the bloody scenes of cruel persecution, and finally
placed his readers upon the granite shores of New England, where,
for a century, liberty had shed its happy influence upon the sons and
daughters of freemen, unmolested by canons or feuds. That liberty
was now invaded, and, unless the tyranny that had already commenced
its desolating course was arrested in its bold career, slavery
would be the consequence. This is the syllabus of a pamphlet of over
forty pages, written in a strong, bold and nervous style.
From that time forward Mr. Adams became a leading whig. He became
associated with Samuel Adams, Quincy, Otis and other kindred
spirits, all much older men, but not more zealous in the cause than him.
The repeal of the odious stamp act and the removal of Mr. Grenville
from the ministry was the result of the labours of the patriots in 1765.
A delusive calm ensued in parliamentary and ministerial proceedings,
openly avowed. Mr. Adams was among those who watched closely
the signs of the times. Governor Barnard occasionally showed the
cloven foot, and his officers put on airs that were far from being agreeable
to the yeomanry of the country. Festering wounds occasionally
became irritated, and no balm was found that restored them to perfect
soundness.
In 1766 Mr. Adams removed to Boston, and at the end of two
years had become so conspicuous and had displayed so much talent
that the governor thought him worth purchasing. The lucrative and
honourable office of advocate-general in the court of admiralty was
offered to him, which was deemed a sufficient bribe to allure him.
In this the governor found himself mistaken. Moral courage was the
firm basis on which this devoted patriot stood. He spurned the royal
harness, glittering with gold, with as much disdain as the wild horse
of the prairie looks upon a moping mule.
In 1769 he was one of the committee appointed by the citizens of
Boston to propose instructions for their representatives in the legislative
body, which were highly spiced with free principles, and were
very unsavoury to the royal governor. Many of his measures were
severely censured, particularly that of quartering the mercenary soldiers
in the town. He was unbending in his purposes, and the people
determined on maintaining their rights. The consequences were
tragical. On the fifth of March, 1770, an affray occurred between
the military and citizens, in which five of the latter were killed and
others wounded. The following description of the scene that ensued
is from the pen of Mr. Adams, the present subject of this memoir.
“The people assembled first at Faneuil Hall and adjourned to the
old South Church, to the number, as was conjectured, of ten or twelve
hundred men, among whom were the most virtuous, substantial, independent,
disinterested and intelligent citizens. They formed themselves
into a regular deliberative body, chose their moderator and
secretary, entered into discussions, deliberations and debates, adopted
resolutions and appointed committees. Their resolutions in public
were conformable to every man in private who dared express his
thoughts or his feelings—‘that the regular soldiers should be banished
from the town at all hazards.’ Jonathan Williams, a very pious,
inoffensive and conscientious gentleman, was their moderator. A
remonstrance to the governor, or governor and council, was ordained,
and a demand that the regular troops should be removed from the
town. A committee was appointed to present this remonstrance, of
which Samuel Adams was chairman.
“This was a delicate and dangerous crisis. The question in the
last resort was—whether the town of Boston should become a scene
of carnage and desolation or not. Humanity to the soldiers conspired
with a regard for the safety of the town, in suggesting the
measure in calling the town together to deliberate, for nothing but
the most solemn promises to the people, that the soldiers should, at
all hazards, be driven from the town, had preserved its peace. Not
only the immense assemblies of the people from day to day, but military
arrangements from night to night were necessary to keep the
people and the soldiers from getting together by the ears. The life
of a red coat would not have been safe in any street or corner of the
town; nor would the lives of the inhabitants been much more secure.
The whole militia of the city was in requisition, and military watches
and guards were every where placed. We were all upon a level;
no man was exempted; our military officers were our only superiors.
I had the honour to be summoned in my turn and attended at the
State-house with my musket and bayonet, my broad sword and cartridge
box, under the command of the famous Paddock. I know you
will laugh at my military figure; but I believe there was not a more
obedient soldier in the regiment, nor one more impartial between the
people and the regulars. In this character I was upon duty all
night in my turn. No man appeared more anxious or more deeply
impressed with a sense of danger on all sides than our commander
Paddock. He called me, common soldier as I was, frequently to
his councils. I had a great deal of conversation with him, and no
man appeared more apprehensive of a fatal calamity to the town, or
more zealous by every prudent measure to prevent it.”G
Order was finally restored and the civil authorities again assumed
their functions. Captain Preston was arrested and brought before
the court, charged with giving the order to the regulars to fire upon
the citizens; and also the soldiers who committed the outrage. As
is uniformly the case, each party was charged with blame by the
respective friends of the other. Some inconsiderate citizens had
thrown snowballs at the king’s troops, who returned the change in
blue pills. The former were imprudent, the latter were revengeful.
Mr. Adams was employed by the accused to defend them. Some
of his friends were fearful that it might injure his popularity with the
people, whose excitement was still very great. But so ingeniously
and eloquently did he manage the case, that Captain Preston and all
the soldiers but two were acquitted, and those two were only convicted
of manslaughter, and Mr. Adams stood approved and applauded
by the citizens, having performed his professional duty to
his clients, and at the same time vindicated the rights of the people;
the result of being guided entirely by the polar star of moral courage.
The same year he was elected to the legislative body, then called
the “General Court,” and was a bold opposer of the arbitrary measures
of Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson, who undisguisedly followed
the directions of the ministry in violation of the charter of the
colony, in all things that were necessary to carry out the plans of the
British cabinet, pleading his instructions as an excuse.
Mr. Adams was one of the committee that prepared an address to
him, the style of which induces me to think it was penned by him.
From the following extract the reader may judge. After vividly
portraying the violations of right complained of, the address concludes,
“These and other grievances and cruelties, too many to be
here enumerated, and too melancholy to be much longer borne by
this injured people, we have seen brought upon us by the devices of
ministers of state. And we have, of late, seen and heard of instructions
to governors which threaten to destroy all the remaining privileges
of our charter. Should these struggles of the house prove
unfortunate and ineffectual, this province will submit, with pious
resignation, to the will of Providence; but it would be a kind of suicide,
of which we have the utmost abhorrence, to be instrumental in
our own servitude.” A blind obstinacy on the part of the ministers
increased the opposition of the people and operated upon them with
all the power of centrifugal force, inducing them to refuse obedience
to the king’s officers. Alarmed at the boldness of the people of
Boston, Governor Barnard had ordered the general court to convene
at Cambridge. This was contrary to the charter which fixed its place
of meeting at the former place. The members convened but refused
to proceed to business unless they were permitted to adjourn to the
proper place, to which Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson, who had
succeeded Governor Barnard, refused his assent. A war of words
and paper ensued, in which the patriots were uniformly victorious.
Mr. Adams was a leader of the sharp-shooters and made great havoc
among the officers of the crown. They induced the senior member
of their council, Mr. Brattle, to enter the field against him with
pen in hand. The conflict was short, Mr. Adams put him hors de
combat, and showed the people the fallacy of every pretext set up by
the hirelings of the ministry. In 1771, Mr. Hutchinson was appointed
governor, and the next year consented to the return of the
legislative body to Boston as a balm for the wounds he had inflicted.
But in this he gained no popularity—it was deemed an involuntary
act forced upon him by the popular will, or a mere stratagem to quiet
the public mind. There were other sources of complaint. The troops
in the castle, that were under the pay and control of the province,
had been dismissed and their place supplied by fresh regulars from
the mother country: the governor and judges received their salaries
from England instead of from the colony, as had always been the
usage, thus aiming to render the military, executive and judiciary
independent of the people whom they governed, which operated as
a talisman to destroy all confidence and affection for these officers on
the part of the citizens. The tax on tea was another source of grief
that touched more tender chords. Woe unto the ruler that rouses
the indignation of the better part of creation. He had better tempt
the fury of Mars, or try his speed with Atalanta. Tea soon became
forbidden fruit, and several vessel loads were sacrificed to Neptune
as an oblation for the sins of ministers and an oblectation for the fishes
of Boston harbour. Royal authority increased in insolence, and the
patriots increased in boldness. At the commencement of the session
of the general court in 1773, Governor Hutchinson sustained the
odious doctrine of supremacy of the parliament in his message, which
was promptly replied to and denied by the members of that body.
A reply was as promptly returned by his excellency, which was prepared
with more than usual ability. Mr. Adams, although not a
member at that time, was employed to write a rejoinder, which
was adopted without any amendment. It paralyzed the pen and
closed the mouth of the governor. It was an exposition of British
wrongs and American rights so clearly exhibited, that no sophistry
could impugn it or logic confront it. So highly was it appreciated
by Dr. Franklin, that he had it republished in England and freely
circulated. It was a luminary to the patriots and confusion to their
opponents.
Shortly after, Mr. Adams was elected to the general court and
placed on the list of committees. So vindictive was governor Hutchinson,
that he erased his name—an act that recoiled upon himself with
redoubled force and aided to hasten the termination of his power in
the colony. In less than a year from that time he was succeeded by
governor Gage, who was still better calculated to hasten on the revolutionary
crisis—because more authoritative and ministerial than his
predecessor. With the commencement of his limited administration
in 1774, the Boston port bill took effect. The consequences that
followed are familiar to the reader. Governor Gage embraced the
first opportunity to pay a marked attention to John Adams. His
name was placed on the council list at the first session of the legislature,
after his excellency assumed the helm of government, who at
once placed his indignant cross upon it. He also removed the
assembly to Salem. The members proceeded to the preliminary
business of the session, and among other things requested the governor
to fix a day for general humiliation and prayer, which he peremptorily
refused to do. Here again tender chords were touched. The
people en masse venerated religion, and an insult upon that or an interruption
of its usual and ancient usages, was like adding pitch to a
fire already vivid and flaming. The house then proceeded to consider
the project of a general Congress, and in spite of an attempt by the
governor to dissolve it, the door was locked against his secretary,
patriotic resolutions were passed, and five delegates appointed to meet
a national convention, one of which was John Adams. So bold had
been his course that some of his warmest friends and most ardent admirers
advised him to decline his appointment, as the adherents of the
crown had already hinted that he evidently aimed at establishing an
independent government, which they considered endangered the peace
of the country and his life, as the British could and would enforce
every measure they chose to adopt. But John Adams had weighed
well the subject of rights and wrongs and took his stand within the
citadel of MORAL COURAGE, against which the gates of hell can never
prevail. He had resolved to nobly perish in defending the liberty of
his country, or plant the standard of freedom on the ruins of tyranny.
At the appointed time he repaired to the city of Philadelphia and
took his seat in that assemblage of sages whose wisdom has been sung
by the ablest poets, applauded by the most eloquent orators, and admired
by the most sagacious statesmen of the two hemispheres. On
reading the proceedings of the American Congress of 1774, Lord
Chatham remarked, “that he had studied and admired the free states
of antiquity, the master spirits of the world—but that for solidity of
reasoning, force of sagacity and wisdom of conclusion, no body of
men could stand in preference to this congress.”
Mr. Adams, for whom his friends felt so much anxiety for fear his
ardour might lead him to rashness, was as calm as a summer morning,
but firm as the granite shores of his birth place. With all his ardent
zeal he was discreet, prudent and politic. He was the last man to
violate constitutional law, and the last man to submit to its violation.
He kept his helm hard up and ran close to the wind, but understood
well when to luff and when to take the larboard tack, and when to
take in sail. His soundings were deep and his calculations relative
to future storms were truly prophetic. He was one of the few that
believed the ministry would induce the king and parliament of the
mother country to remain incorrigible, and that petitions would be
vain, addresses futile, and remonstrances unavailing. That this Congress
adopted the proper course to pursue, he was fully aware—that
dignity might grace the cause of the people and justice be honoured.
The following extract from a letter written by him at a subsequent
period, shows his, and the conclusions of others at that time.
“When Congress had finished their business as they thought, in
the autumn of 1774, I had with Mr. Henry before we took leave of
each other some familiar conversation, in which I expressed a full
conviction that our resolves, declarations of rights, enumeration of
wrongs, petitions, remonstrances, addresses, associations and non-importation
agreements, however they might be accepted in America and
however necessary to cement the union of the colonies, would be
waste water in England. Mr. Henry said, they might make some
impression among the people of England, but agreed with me that
they would be totally lost upon the government. I had just received
a short and hasty letter, written to me by Major Joseph Hawley of
Northampton, containing ‘a few broken hints,’ as he called them, of
what he thought was proper to be done, and concluding with these
words, ‘after all we must fight.’ This letter I read to Mr. Henry,
who listened with great attention, and as soon as I had pronounced
the words:—‘after all we must fight’—he raised his hand and with an
energy and vehemence that I can never forget, broke out with—‘by
G—d I am of that man’s mind.’ * * * * *
The other delegates from Virginia returned to their state in full
confidence that all our grievances would be redressed. The last
words that Mr. Richard Henry Lee said to me when we parted, were
‘we shall infallibly carry all our points. You will be completely relieved—all
the offensive acts will be repealed, the army and fleet
will be recalled and Britain will give up her foolish project.’ Washington
only was in doubt. He never spoke in public. In private he
joined with those who advocated a non-exportation, as well as a non-importation
agreement. With both he thought we should prevail—with
either he thought it doubtful. Henry was clear in one opinion, Richard
Henry Lee in an opposite opinion, and Washington doubted between
the two.”
Here is exhibited a striking picture of the minds of these four great
men, which appears to have escaped the notice of the several writers
that I have consulted. Adams and Henry, drawing their conclusions
from the past, the present and the future, diving into the
depths of human nature and grasping, at one bold view, all the multiform
circumstances that hung over the two nations, concluded truly,
“after all we must fight.” They concluded that the confidence inspired
in the ministers by the overwhelming physical force of Great
Britain, would prevent them from relaxing the cords of oppression,
and that the independent spirit of the hardy sons of Columbia would
not be subdued without a struggle. Lee, naturally bouyant, his own
mind readily impressed by reason and eloquence, did not reflect that
inflated power, when deluded by obstinacy and avarice, is callous to
all the refined feelings of the heart, is deaf to wisdom and blind to
justice. He was as determined to maintain chartered rights as them,
but did not scan human nature as closely. Washington, deep in reflection
and investigation, his soul overflowing with the milk of human
kindness, did not arrive as rapidly at conclusions. In weighing
the causes of difference between the two countries, reason, justice
and hope on the one side, power, corruption, and avarice on the other,
held his mind, for a time, in equilibrio. He plainly perceived and
pursued the right, and fondly but faintly hoped that England would
see and pursue it too. He was as prompt to defend liberty as either
of the others.
On his return, Mr. Adams was congratulated by his anxious friends
upon the prudent course he had pursued, and was re-elected a member
of the ensuing Congress. During the interim his pen was again usefully
employed. Mr. Sewall, the king’s attorney-general, had written
a series of elaborate and ingenious essays, maintaining the supremacy
of parliament and censuring, in no measured terms, the proceedings
of the whigs. Under the name of “Novanglus,” Mr. Adams
stripped the gay ornaments and gaudy apparel from the high-varnished
picture that Mr. Sewall had presented to the public, and when he had
finished his work, a mere skeleton of visible deformity was left to
gaze upon.
The attorney-general was made to tremble before the keen cuts of
the falchion quill of this devoted patriot. So deep was his reasoning,
so learned were his expositions, and so lucid and conclusive were his
demonstrations, that his antagonist exclaimed, as he retired hissing
from the conflict, “he strives to hide his inconsistencies under a huge
pile of learning.” The pile proved too huge for royal power, and
was sufficiently large to supply the people with an abundance of light.
The supremacy of parliament was an unfortunate issue for ministers.
It left the sages of liberty in a position to hurl their arrows freely at
them, without denying the allegiance of the colonists to the king. The
British cabinet worked out its own destruction, if not with fear and
trembling, it was with blindness and disgrace—a disgrace arising from
the grossest impolicy and injustice, if not to say ignorance and infatuation.
They were entirely mistaken in the people of America—they
awoke the wrong passengers.
In May, 1775, Mr. Adams again took his seat in Congress. The
members convened under quite different feelings from those that
pervaded their bosoms the previous autumn. Revolution was now
rolling fearfully upon their bleeding country, hope of redress was expiring
like the last flickerings of an exhausted taper, dark and portentous
clouds were accumulating, the ministerial ermine was already
steeped in blood, the chains of servitude were clanking in their ears,
the dying groans of their fellow citizens and the mournful lamentations
of widows and orphans were resounding through the land, and
the prophetic conclusion of Adams and Henry, drawn at the previous
session, began to force itself upon the minds of members, that “after
all we must fight.” As a preliminary measure, it was necessary to
appoint a commander of the military forces to be raised. To fix
upon the best man was of vital importance. Many were yet chanting
the song of peace and thought it premature to make such an appointment,
lest it should widen the breach which they still hoped
might be repaired. The New England delegates were not of this
class. When the purple current was wantonly diverted from its original
channel upon the heights of Lexington, they hung their syren
harps upon the weeping willows that shaded the tombs of their murdered
brethren. They were convinced that war was inevitable.
All soon became satisfied that prudence dictated a preparation for
such an event. A suitable man to lead the armies and direct their
course was a desideratum. The southern members were willing to
submit to any nomination made by the eastern delegates. General
Artemas Ward of Massachusetts was fixed upon by most of them,
except John Adams. In George Washington he had discovered the
commingling qualities of a philanthropist, a philosopher, a statesman
and a hero. He was prompted by the force of moral courage to at
once urge his colleagues to sanction his choice. They were all opposed
to it, as were also the other members of the northern and eastern
delegation. Mr. Adams was firm in his purpose, and met every objection
with conclusive arguments. These discussions were all private,
not a word was uttered on the floor of Congress as to who
should be the man. At last Samuel Adams became convinced that
his junior colleague was right. The work was soon accomplished.
Satisfied that his measure would be supported by a majority, John
Adams rose in Congress and proposed that a commander of the
American armies should be appointed. When this resolution was
passed, he proceeded to portray the requisite qualities necessary to
fit a man for this important station, and emphatically remarked
“such a man is within these walls.” But few knew who he was
about to nominate, and could not imagine who among their own
number was possessed of all these noble attainments. A transient
pause ensued. A breathless anxiety produced a painful suspense.
The next moment the name of Colonel George Washington of
Virginia, was announced, at which the colonel was more astonished
than any other member of the house. He had not received an intimation
of the intended honour from any person. He was nominated
by John Adams about the middle of June, the nomination was seconded
by Samuel Adams, the next day the vote was taken and was
unanimous in his favour. This appointment originated entirely with
Mr. Adams; a high encomium upon his deep penetration and discernment
of human intellect, a clear demonstration of his moral courage
manifested in persevering in his choice although opposed at the
threshold by the entire New England delegation. So judicious and
felicitous was this selection, that the revered La Fayette remarked,
“it was the consequence of providential inspiration.” Be it so; Mr.
Adams was the happy medium through which it was communicated
to the Continental Congress, thereby placing at the head of the American
armies just such a man as the crisis required—prudent, dignified,
bold, sagacious, patient, persevering, and universally esteemed
by the patriots, and admired even by the most violent adherents of
the crown.
After Mr. Adams had accomplished this important act, he remained
apparently quiescent during the residue of the session, viewing, analyzing
and scanning public feeling and public acts.
In the spring of 1776, he took his seat a third time in the National
Assembly. The period had then arrived for more decisive action.
Massachusetts had been declared out of the king’s protection by parliament.
England had hired legions of soldiers from German princes
to subdue the rebels in America, the last note of peace had died upon
the voice of echo, every ray of hope in favour of an amicable settlement
was banished, and every member became convinced that the
dilemma was, resistance or slavery; but there were many who shrunk
back with astonishment when independence was named to them.
At this juncture Mr. Adams marked out a bold course and had
moral courage to pursue it. On the sixth of May he offered a resolution
in Congress proposing that the colonies should organize governments
independent of the mother country. On the tenth of the
same month its substance was adopted in a modified form, recommending
the formation of such government by the colonies “as might
be conducive to the happiness and safety of their constituents in particular
and America in general.”
This startling measure was at first ably opposed by many of the
patriots as premature, admitting its justice, and, but for the weakness
of the colonies, its propriety and necessity. But Mr. Adams knew
no middle course. He had succeeded in obtaining the adoption of
the preface to his broad and expanding folio of an independent compact,
and he proceeded to put the main matter to press. He rose like a
giant and commenced the mighty work of political regeneration. Each
succeeding day brought him new aid. From the legislature of his own
state he received full permission to strike for independence. North
Carolina had declared first, Virginia followed, and on the seventh of
June, Richard Henry Lee became the organ to lay the proposition
fairly before Congress. A most animated discussion ensued. Then
it was that the powers of Mr. Adams were fully developed. Mr.
Jefferson said of him when alluding to his able support of the declaration
of independence, “John Adams was the pillar of its support
on the floor of Congress; its ablest advocate and defender against
the multifarious assaults it encountered. He was our Colossus on
the floor; not graceful, not elegant, not always fluent in his public
addresses; yet he came out with a power, both of thought and of expression,
that moved us from our seats.” Another writer remarks,
I think Mr. Trumbull, “The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his
general character. It was bold, manly and energetic, such as the
crisis required.” The noblest powers of the soul of John Adams
were raised to the zenith of their strength to accomplish the mighty
work before him. Although on the committee to prepare the manifesto
of eternal separation, he confided its preparation to his colleagues
and bent his whole force, eloquence and energy upon the
opponents to the measure. Most manfully did he contend, most gloriously
did he triumph. He bore down upon his adversaries like a
mountain torrent, a sweeping avalanche, prostrating their arguments
and answering their objections in a manner that left no trace behind.
He hurled the arrows of conviction so thick and fast, that every heart
was pierced and a majority subdued. At length the time arrived
when the momentous subject must be decided. The fourth of July,
1776, dawned upon the patriots; they assembled, the past, the present
and the prospective future rushed upon their minds; moments
flew, hearts beat quicker, the question was put, independence was
declared, America was free, liberty was honoured, freedom was proclaimed
and a nation redeemed.
The following copy of a letter written by Mr. Adams to his wife on
the 5th of July, will show the feelings of his mind on that occasion:
“Yesterday the greatest question was decided that was ever debated
in America, and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided
among men. A resolution passed without one dissenting colony—‘that
these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent
states.’ The day is passed. The fourth of July, 1776, will
be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe
it will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary
festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance,
by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to
be solemnized with pomps, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires
and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other,
from this time forward and for ever. You will think me transported
with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and
blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this declaration and
support and defend these states; yet, through all the gloom, I can see
the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more
than all the means, and that posterity will triumph, although you and
I may rue, which I hope we shall not.”
Early in the winter of 1776, Mr. Adams sketched a form of government
to be adopted by each colony, which was substantially the
same as the constitutions of the present time. It was in a letter to
Richard Henry Lee, by whom it was, by permission, published without
a name, and may be considered as the model of the constitutions
now in force in the different states. After the form he remarks,
“A constitution founded on these principles, introduces knowledge
among the people and inspires them with a conscious dignity becoming
freemen. A general emulation takes place which causes good
humour, sociability, good manners and good morals to be general.
That elevation of sentiment inspired by such a government, makes
the common people brave and enterprising. That ambition which is
inspired by it makes them sober, industrious and frugal. You will
find among them some elegance perhaps, but more solidity; a little
pleasure but a great deal of business; some politeness but more civility.
If you compare such a country with the regions of domination,
whether monarchial or aristocratical, you will fancy yourself in Arcadia
or Elysium.”
Here, upon the canvass of truth, is a complete picture, exhibiting
the blessings derived from a government like our own in its principles—that
these principles are not strictly adhered to by all politicians,
is a fact too fully and fearfully demonstrated. Among all the great men
of the last century of increasing intellectual light, no one appears to
have taken a more comprehensive and at the same time minute view
of human nature and of human government, than John Adams. He
traced causes and effects through all their labyrinthian meanderings,
and drew conclusions as if by inspiration. Many of his predictions of
the future bear the impress of prophecy, and show how deeply he investigated
and the clearness of his perception.
On his return from Congress at the close of the session, he was
chosen a member of the council of Massachusetts under the new constitution,
and aided to organize a free government on a basis purely
republican. He was also appointed chief justice, but declined serving.
In 1777, Mr. Adams resumed his seat in Congress, and engaged in
a course of labour unparalleled in the history of legislation. He was
an acting member of ninety committees, chairman of twenty-five,
chairman of the board of war and of appeals, discharged all those multifarious
duties promptly, besides participating in the debates of the
house upon all important questions. In December of that year he was
appointed a commissioner to France, and embarked on board of the frigate
Boston in February following, from his native town at the foot of
Mount Wollaston. During the voyage a British armed ship was discovered,
and, by the consent of Mr. Adams, Captain Tucker gave
chase, strictly enjoining the commissioner to keep out of danger. No
sooner had the action commenced than Mr. Adams seized a musket
and gave the enemy a well directed shot. The captain discovering
him in his exposed situation, said to him, “I am commanded by the
Continental Congress to carry you in safety to Europe, and I will do
it,” and very pleasantly removed him and placed him out of danger.
On his arrival at France he had the satisfaction to learn that Dr.
Franklin and his colleagues had succeeded in concluding a treaty of
alliance with the French nation. He continued in Europe a little
more than a year and then returned home. Soon after his arrival he
was elected to a convention of his native state convened for the purpose
of perfecting a constitution for the more complete organization
of its government. He was upon the committee to prepare this document,
and was selected to make the draught. He produced an instrument
similar to that sketched for Richard Henry Lee in January
1776, which was sanctioned and adopted. Before his duties had terminated
in this convention he was appointed by Congress “a minister
plenipotentiary for negotiating a treaty of peace and a treaty of commerce
with Great Britain.”
In October, 1779, he embarked from Boston for Europe, and after
a long and tedious passage, he arrived at Paris in February following.
The British ministry were not yet sufficiently humbled to do right,
and Mr. Adams had too much sagacity to be ensnared, and too much
moral courage to consent to any thing wrong. Anxious to benefit his
country, on hearing that Mr. Laurens, the American commissioner to
Holland, had been captured, he immediately repaired to that kingdom,
and in August received a commission from Congress to negotiate a
loan and to conclude a treaty of amity and commerce with the States
General of Holland, with instructions to accede to any treaty of neutral
rights that might arise from regulations to be made by a congress
of the European states, then in contemplation. In a few months he
was completely overwhelmed with diplomatic powers. He was minister
plenipotentiary to Great Britain—to the States General—to the
prince of Orange—to all the European states for pledging the faith of
the United States to the armed neutrality, with letters of credit to the
Russian, Swedish and Danish envoys in Holland, and a commissioner
to negotiate a loan of ten millions of dollars for the support of the
home department and foreign embassies. The duties thus devolving
upon him, all of which he discharged with approbation, will give the
reader some idea of the gigantic mental powers of John Adams. He
had the same kind of intrigue to encounter as that alluded to in the
biography of Franklin, which he met at the threshold and crushed whilst
in embryo.
In July, 1781, he received a summons from the court of France to
repair immediately to Versailles to deliberate upon a plan of peace
with England. On his arrival he had occasion for the exercise of that
moral courage that sustained him in every dilemma. The terms
offered did not fully recognise the rights of the United States as an
independent sovereign nation—peace was anxiously desired and ardently
urged by the Duke de Vergennes, who stood at the head of
the French cabinet—Mr. Adams desired it too, but only upon honourable
and dignified terms. The duke, who had uniformly showed
a disposition to make the United States at least feel deeply a dependence
upon France, undertook to dictate to Mr. Adams, and placed
him in the position of a subordinate agent. In this project he was
greatly mistaken. Mr. Adams recognised no dictator but the Continental
Congress and his own keen and penetrating judgment. So
chagrined was the French duke at the independence of the American
minister, that he wrote to the chevalier de la Luzerne, then minister
from France in America, to lay a formal complaint against Mr. Adams
before Congress. This he did in a very ingenious manner, but without
success. As a matter of deference to their new and important
ally, the members of Congress very partially modified the instructions
to their minister, but did not place him under the control of the duke
as requested. They knew the spirit of John Adams would never compromise
the dignity of the American name, and they reposed entire
confidence in his ability to perceive the right, and in his moral courage
to pursue it. It became evident that the motives of the French court
in giving assistance to the United States were based entirely on self.
Her objects were to humble her inveterate foe, and when that was accomplished,
to secure her own aggrandizement and that of Spain at
the expense of America. I speak of the court of France, and not of
the good Lafayette and French patriots like him.
Finding that his presence could be of no service at Versailles, Mr.
Adams returned to Amsterdam. Soon after this, so powerfully did
the French minister operate upon Congress, taking the advantage of
the reverses of the American arms, that he induced that body to add
to the commission of Mr. Adams, Dr. Franklin, Messrs. Jefferson,
Jay and Laurens, with the humiliating direction, “that they should
govern themselves by the advice and opinion of the ministers of the
king of France.” The duke de Vergennes now exulted in his power,
having been made by Congress virtually the sovereign minister of the
United States to Great Britain. But his exultation was delusive.
Nothing could bend Mr. Adams or Franklin, and the other commissioners
became convinced of the propriety of the bold stand assumed.
Mr. Adams wrote to Congress and exposed the plans of the duke and
his coadjutors, and was the bold medium of communication that opened
the eyes of its members to see and permit the commissioner to maintain
their true dignity, which enabled them to finally obtain an honourable
peace. He also succeeded, after surmounting many Alpine
barriers, in negotiating a loan in Holland of eight millions of guilders,
in September, 1782. The benefits of this loan were two-fold—it
enabled the United States to prosecute the war with more vigour, and
had a direct influence upon England, inducing her to make proposals
of peace soon after this was known to lord Shelburne, then at the head
of the British administration, which secured to the United States the
great privileges insisted on by Mr. Adams. A provisional treaty was
signed at Paris on the thirtieth of November, 1782, and a definitive
treaty was signed on the third of September, 1783. This step was
taken without consulting the duke de Vergennes, and completely
thwarted his golden schemes of finesse. He addressed a letter of reproach
to the American commissioners, because they dared to proceed
without his approbation, which they did not condescend to answer.
The three grand points in the plan of the court of France were—in securing
to themselves the trade and fisheries of the Unites States, and
for Spain—the sole right of navigating the Mississippi river.
After the important work of concluding peace with England was
accomplished, Mr. Adams returned to Holland, where he remained a
part of the year 1784, when he returned to France and assumed the
duties of a commission, at the head of which he was placed, having Dr.
Franklin and Mr. Jefferson associated with him, forming a trio of combined,
various and exalted talent, never surpassed if ever equalled.
They were empowered to negotiate commercial treaties with all foreign
nations that desired such an arrangement with the United States.
In 1785, Mr. Adams was appointed the first minister to Great Britain
after the acknowledgement of the independence of the United
States by that kingdom. He was received with marked attention and
courtesy, so far as courtly etiquette and ceremony were concerned, but
found the ministry morose and bitter in their feelings towards the new
republic. They were unwilling to enter into a commercial treaty,
and seemed to treat the peace as a mere truce between the two nations.
Mr. Adams performed the delicate duties of his mission with great
sagacity and wisdom, and patiently removed subsisting difficulties
between the two countries. Nor did he remain passive as to the internal
affairs of his country at home. To win independence he considered
one thing, to preserve it, was a different and more difficult matter.
The theories of a republican form of government that had been
published by ThurgotH and others, and freely circulated in America,
he considered wild and visionary, as the transient existence of the
French republic subsequently proved. To strip these delusive theories
of their sophistry, Mr. Adams published a learned and able disquisition
on republican constitutions, which operated as a polar light
to his own countrymen and had a powerful influence in correcting error
and allaying prejudices in England against the government of the
United States. His “Defence of the Constitutions” also placed him
on a lofty eminence in view of the literati of Europe.
In 1788, he obtained permission to return home, and in the autumn
of the same year was elected the first vice-president of the United
States under the federal constitution, the duties of which station he
performed with dignity and great ability. He was a confidential counsellor
of Washington, who consulted him on all important questions.
He was re-elected in 1792, with but little opposition; and in 1796, he
was elected president of the republic, to establish which he had perilled
life, fortune and honour. At this time party spirit had commenced its
career of venality and his election was warmly contested. His opponent,
Mr. Jefferson, received sixty-eight votes and Mr. Adams seventy-one.
During all the effervescence of party feeling, which arrayed
father against son and cut asunder the long cherished ties of friendship
between thousands, these two great men remained personal friends,
showing at once the magnanimity of their minds and the folly of low
minded foaming partizans. It was then that the American press first
descended from its lofty and legitimate eminence and planted it before
unsullied feet in the obloquious quagmire of party spirit. Since
that time partisan presses have been sinking deeper and deeper, until
some of them, pro et con., have become so deeply planted in the filth
and scum of personal abuse and political slander, that, to use a simile,
Archimedes, with the mighty powers of his lever, could not raise them
to their pristine elevation in half a century. So far were matters carried
by his political friends against the public measures of Mr. Adams
in 1800, that Mr. Jefferson was compelled, from a sense of duty, to
rebuke the slanders that were uttered, in the following emphatic language,
which becomes more forcible from the fact that his own private
character had been shamefully attacked by those who supported his
political opponent.
“Gentlemen, you do not know that man—there is not upon earth a
more perfectly honest man than John Adams. Concealment is no
part of his character—of that, he is utterly incapable. It is not
in his nature to meditate any thing that he would not publish to
the world. The measures of the general government are a fair subject
for difference of opinion—but do not found your opinions on the
notion that there is the smallest spice of dishonesty, moral or political,
in the character of John Adams, for I know him well, and I repeat—that
a man more perfectly honest never issued from the hands of his Creator.”
Mr. Adams proceeded to the conscientious and independent discharge
of his presidential duties, prompted by the best motives for the
glory of his country. His administration, however, became unpopular,
and at the expiration of his term the democratic party triumphed,
and he retired to Quincy, to once more enjoy the long lost comforts of
retirement. Much has been written upon the causes that produced
the political overthrow of Mr. Adams. To my mind the solution is
brief and plain. His cabinet was not of his own choosing—he was too
independent to bend to party management—he opposed the humiliating
demands of the then self-styled democratic France—he advocated,
most earnestly, the augmentation of the navy of the United States, and
recommended the law for suppressing the venality of the press. In
the two first points he was impolitic as the head of a party—in the
two next, he did what all now acknowledge to be right—and in the
last, he took the wrong method to correct one of the most alarming
evils of that day—an evil that still hangs over our country like an
incubus. The three last were the strong points seized upon by partisans,
and were rendered extremely unpopular, and enabled his opponents
to defeat his re-election. He retired with a good grace, and remained
the personal friend of his rival until the day of his death. He
supported the policy of Mr. Jefferson towards England, and approved
of the declaration of war in 1812. In writing to a friend, in
July of that year, he remarked:
“To your allusion to the war, I have nothing to say—but that it is
with surprise that I hear it pronounced, not only in the newspapers,
but by persons in authority, ecclesiastical and civil, and political and
military—that the declaration of it was altogether unexpected * * *
How it is possible that a rational, a social or a moral creature can say
the war is unjust, is to me utterly incomprehensible. How it can
be said to be unnecessary, is very mysterious. I have thought it necessary
for five or six years. How it can be said to be unexpected, is
another wonder. I have expected it more than five-and-twenty years,
and have great reason to be thankful that it has been postponed so
long.”
He attributed the opposition of the eastern states to the war to the
impolicy of the government in not cherishing the navy, and compared
them to Achilles, who, in consequence of his being deprived of Briseis,
withdrew from the Grecian confederacy. The augmentation of
the navy was the ne plus ultra of his national policy, and had his
views upon this point been carried out by our government, our
nation would now have been mistress of the seas, instead of having
scarcely armed vessels enough to protect the expanding commerce of
our enterprising merchants—a fact that has become a by-word among
other nations, and has often crimsoned the cheeks of liberal minded
Americans.
Soon after his retirement he was offered the gubernatorial chair of
his native state, but declined the honour on account of his advanced
age—but continued to take a deep interest in the welfare of his
country, and wrote many essays and letters in favour of liberal principles
and American rights. After the retirement of Mr. Jefferson, a
most happy and interesting correspondence was continued between
these two great apostles of liberty. In 1815, Mr. Adams had the
gratifying pleasure of seeing his son at the head of the diplomatic commission
to conclude a second treaty with Great Britain, which carried
his mind back, with all the enthusiastic force of an old man’s memory,
to the scenes of 1782–3, when he had performed and executed a
similar mission. In 1817, he was placed at the head of the list of presidential
electors, and three years after was elected president of the
convention that revised the constitution he had written forty years
previous. The compliment was duly appreciated by him, but his
infirmities did not permit him to preside over the deliberations of that
body, although he imparted his counsels and aided greatly in the revision.
This was the last public act of this great man—the curtain of
the political drama then closed upon him for ever. Two years previous
the partner of his bosom had gone to her final rest, which was an
affliction most keenly felt by him. For more than half a century she
had shared with him the pains and pleasures of their eventful career,
and had always met the events of life with christian fortitude. Surrounded
by friends who delighted to honour him, his country prosperous
and happy, enjoying the full fruition of divine grace, which had
produced the fruits of unsophisticated piety through a long life, political
animosities buried in oblivion, his now frail bark glided smoothly
down the stream of time until the fiftieth anniversary of independence
dawned upon his beloved country. On the morning of the fourth of
July, 1826, an unexpected debility seized him, and he was unable to
leave his bed, but no one imagined he was standing on the last inch of
his time. He was asked for a sentiment, to be given for him at the
celebration on that day—“INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER,” burst from his
dying lips, which were the last words that he ever uttered, with a
loud and animated voice. About four o’clock in the afternoon he expired—without
an apparent pain, a groan, a murmur or a sigh, with a
full assurance of a happy reception in that brighter world, where sin
and sorrow never cross the peaceful path of the angelic throng. On
the same day, and but a few hours previous, the immortal spirit of the
illustrious Jefferson had left its prison of clay, thrown off its mortal
coil, and perhaps took its kindred in its flight, and they together
“ascended in essence to an ecstatic meeting with the friends they
had loved and lost, and whom they should still love and never lose,”
there to enjoy, through the rolling ages of eternity, the blissful scenes
of angelic purity—the smiles and favours of their Saviour and their
God.
This unparalleled combination of extraordinary circumstances produced
a deep and unusual sensation in the United States and in Europe.
The simultaneous departure of two of the noblest spirits that
ever graced the great theatre of human life, illuminating the world
around them with freedom—whose actions had resounded through the
universe—whose mighty deeds had been and will continue to be a
theme of wonder and admiration to the end of time—was an incident
that seemed designed by the great Jehovah, to impress their precepts,
their examples and their names upon the minds of men with all the
force of god-like divinity.
Mr. Adams was a plain man; low in stature, not graceful in his
movements, and was sometimes abrupt and repulsive. His manners
were rather austere and unbending in public, but in the social circle,
with his relatives and friends, he was familiar, pleasing and entertaining.
He was not partial to ceremonious etiquette, and was averse to
pedantry. Plain strong common sense he practised and admired. He
spoke his sentiments freely, and could never have been transformed
into a technical politican, even had he enjoyed the magic advantages
of modern schools. His open frankness was proverbial, and he often
alluded to it as one of his failings. When once in Stewart’s room of
paintings, he fixed his eyes upon the portrait of Washington, and then
upon his own, and observing the compressed mouth of the former and
the open lips of the latter, facetiously remarked as he pointed to it—“Ah!
that fellow never could keep his mouth shut.” This circumstance
alone did much to enhance his unpopularity as a party politician.
In the brilliant career of this great and good man the reader must
discover a higher and holier eulogy than language can express. For
more than fifty years he served his country ably and faithfully in a
public capacity, and continued to impart his counsels until the curtain
of death shut him from the world. In all the relations of private
life he stood upon a lofty eminence—beyond the reach of slander.
The escutcheon of his social name was too pure for the approach of
the foulest of all pestiferous atmospheres—that of party spirit. And
now, as his ashes rest in the peaceful grave, that hydra monster dare
not impute to his actions in life a spark of political dishonesty
or impurity of motive, however much he differed from other great
men in his views, lest the voice of Jefferson should proclaim to them
from the tomb—An honester man than John Adams never issued
from the hands of the Creator.