YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

Bought with the income
of the
Williain T, Lusk Fund

ABIGAIL ADAMS
AND HER TIMES

Books By Laura E. Richards
Abigail Adams and Her Times
Pippin
Elizabeth Fry
Florence Nightingale
Mrs. Tree
Mrs. Tree's WiU
Miss Jimmy
The Wooing of Calvin Parks
Journals and Letters of Samuel
Gridley Howe
Two Noble Lives
Captain January
A Happy Little Time
When I Was Your Age
Five Minute Stories
In My Nursery
The Golden Windows
The Silver Crown
The Joyous Story of Toto
The Life of Julia Ward Howe
fVith Maud Howe EUiott,
etc., etc.

Sl

Abigail Adams
From an original painting by Gilbert Stuart

ABIGAIL ADAMS
AND HLR TIML5

BY
LAURA E RICHARDS
AtlTHOK 0» "ELIZABETH MY, THK ANOEL OT IHE PRISONS,'
VlLOKENCE NICHTIHGALE, THE ANGEL 0> IBE .
CXWEA," ETC.

ILLUSTRATHD

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1917

COPTBWHT, 1817, BT
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

Printed in the TJnited States of America

TO
THE HONORED MEMORY OF
FRANKLIN BENJAMIN SANBORN
THE FRIEND OF MY PARENTS AND OF MY CHILDREN;
TO THREE GENERATIONS A FAITHFUL,
AFFECTIONATE, AND BELOVED
COUNSELLOR.

CONTENTS

CHAPTES I. Begins at the Beginning
II. Girlhood and Marriage
IIL The Boston Massacre
IV. The Boston Tea Party
V. After Lexington
VL Boston Blockade
VII. In Happy Braintree
VIIL Independence at Last
IX. Mr. Adams Abroad .
X. The Court of St. James
XI. Vexatious Honors .
XIL Afternoon and Evening

I
24 40
60 88
112
124
142 181
197
231
260

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Abigail Adams  Frontispiece lACmG FACE
Abigail Adams  36
John Adams  188
South Elevation of the President's House . . . 252

For much of the local and contemporary color in
this little book, the author is indebted to the admirable
works of the late Mrs. Alice Morse Earle.

ABIGAIL ADAMS
AND HER TIMES
CHAPTER I
BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING
SEVENTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTY-
FOUR! George the Second on the throne of
England, "snuffy old drone from the German hive" ;
Charles Edward Stuart ("bonnie Prince Charlie")
making ready for his great coup which, the next
year, was to cast down said George from the throne
and set Charles Edward thereupon as "rightful, law
ful prince — for wha'll be king but Charlie?", and
which ended in Culloden and the final downfall and
dispersion of the Scottish Stuarts.
In France, Louis XV., Lord of Misrule, shep
herding his people toward the Abyss with what skill
was in him ; at war with England, at war with Hun
gary; Frederick of Prussia alone standing by him.
In Europe, generally, a seething condition which
is not our immediate concern. In America, seething
I

2 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
also: discontent, indignation, rising higher and
higher under British imposition (not British either,
being the work of Britain's German ruler, not of
her people!), yet quelled for the moment by war
with France.
I am not writing a history; far from it. I am
merely throwing on the screen, in the fashion of to
day, a few scenes to make a background for my
little pen-picture-play. What is really our immedi
ate concern is that on November eleventh of this
same year, 1744, was born to the wife of the Rever
end William Smith of Weymouth, Massachusetts, a
daughter, baptized Abigail.
Parson Smith was a notable figure of the times;
not a great man, but one of character, intelligence
and cultivation. He married a daughter of Colonel
John Quincy, so my heroine was a cousin — I cannot
tell in what precise degree — ^to Dorothy Q. of po
etic-pictorial fame; cousin, too, (her grandmother
having been a Norton) to half Boston, the culti
vated and scholarly half.
Parson Smith kept a diary, as dry a document as
I have often read. He had no time to spare, and
his brief entries are abbreviated down to the finest
possible point. For example, we read that
"By my Gd I am as'd and Ev. am as'd at my S

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 3
and do now ys D Sol prom By Thy God never to T.
to s. ag."
This is puzzling at first sight; but the practiced
reader will, after some study, make out that the
good Parson, writing for himself alone, was really
saying, "By my Gbd I am assured and Even am assured
at my Strength, and do now this Day Solemnly
promise By Thy God never to Tempt to sin again."
Even this is somewhat cryptic, but we are glad of
the assurance, the more that we find the poor gen
tleman still troubled in spirit a week later.
"Lord g't me S to res the e. so prej'd to me.
Lord I am ashamed of it and resolve to s. e. T. by
thy S."
Which being interpreted is; "Lord, grant me
Strength to resist the evil so prejudicial to me. Lord,
I am ashamed of it and resolve to shun evil Tempta
tion by thy Strength."
What the temptation was, we may not know.
Possibly he was inclined to extravagance in certain
matters of personal dignity and adornment : we read
of his paying fifteen pounds "for my wig"; and
again, "At Boston. Paid Mr. Oliver for a cut
whigg £10.00." But this is nothing. Parson Smith
came of "kent folk," and may have had private

4 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
means beside the salary of eight hundred dollars.
Do we not read that Samuel Adams' barber's bill
"for three months, shaving and dressing," was
£175, paid by the Colony of Massachusetts?
Necessary expenses were also heavy. "Dec. 4th,
1749. Paid Brother Smith for a Barrel of Flower
£15.11.3." But on the other hand, he sold his horse
to Mr. Jackson for £200.
175 1 was an eventful year. On April 23d we
read, "Weymouth Meeting House took fire about half
an hour after 10 o'clock at night and burnt to the
ground in abt 2 hours."
This is all Parson Smith has to say about it, but
the Boston Post-Boy of April 29th tells us that:
"Last Tuesday Night the old Meeting-house in
Weymouth was burnt to the Ground : and three Bar
rels of Gunpowder, the Town-Stock, being in the
Loft, blew up with a great noise. 'Tis uncertain by
what Means the Fire happen'd."
Paul Torrey, the town poet, says of it :
Our po'wder stock, kept under lock.
With flints and bullets were
By dismal blast soon swiftly cast
Into the open air.
The poem hints at incendiaries.

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 5
I'm satisfied they do reside
Somewhere within the town :
Therefore, no doubt, you'll find them out,
By searching up and down.
On trial them we will condemn.
The sentence we will give:
Them execute without dispute.
Not being fit to live.
This was a heavy blow to minister and congrega
tion, in fact to the whole community ; for the meet
ing-house was the centre and core of the village life.
Meeting-house: (Cotton Mather found "no just
ground in Scripture to apply such a trope as
'chtirch' to a home for public assembly.") Sabbath,
or more often Lord's Day: these are the Puritan
names, which happily we have not yet wholly lost.
The early meeting-houses were very small; that of
Haverhill was only twenty-six feet long and twenty
wide. They were oftenest set on a hilltop, partly as
a landmark, partly as a lookout in case of prowling
Indians. The building or "raising" of a meeting
house was a great event in the community. Every
citizen was obliged by law to share in the work or
the expense. Every man must give a certain amount
of "nayles." Contributions were levied for lumber,
for labor of horses and men, and for "Rhum and
Cacks" to regale the workers. "When the Med ford

6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
people built their second meeting-house, they pro
vided for the workmen and bystanders, five barrels
of rum, one barrel of good brown sugar, a box of
fine lemons, and two loaves of sugar. As a natural
consequence, two-thirds of the frame fell, and many
were injured. In Northampton, in 1738, ten gallons
of rum were bought for £8 'to raise the meeting
house' — and the village doctor got '£3 for setting his
bone Jonathan Strong, and £3 los. for setting Eben
ezer Burt's thy' which had somehow through the
rum or the raising, both gotten broken." ^ Finally it
was realized that rum and "raising" did not go well
together, and the workmen had to wait till night for
their liquor.
Once up, the meeting-house became the centre of
village life. On the green outside stood the stocks,
the whipping-post, the pillory, the cage. We are
told that the first man to occupy the Boston stocks
was the carpenter who made them, his charge for
the lumber used being considered over high. The
pillory was much frequented by Quakers and other
non-orthodox persons. Here, too, were horse
blocks, and rows of stepping-stones for muddy days.
The Concord horse-block was a fine one; it was
^"The Sabbath in Puritan New England." Alice Morse
Earle.

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 7
erected by the women of the town, each housewife
giving a pound of butter toward the expense. On
the walls and door of the meeting-house were nailed
grinning heads of wolf and bear, killed partly for
safety, possibly more for the reward: fifteen shill
ings for a live wolf, ten for a dead one. We are not
told what was done with the live wolves. A man in
Newbury killed seven wolves in one year ; but that is
nothing. We learn from the history of Roxbury
that in 1725, in one week in September, twenty bears
were killed within two miles of Boston! Wolves
were far more dreaded than bears, and save in this
one remarkable instance, far more abundant. In
1723, Ipswich was so beset by wolves that children
could not go to meeting or to school without a
grown attendant.
In the early days, the meeting-house was un-
painted; paint would have been thought a sinful
extravagance. The eighteenth century, however,
brought laxer ideas ; brought also cheaper paint, and
the result was a sudden access of gayety. Pomfret,
Connecticut, painted its meeting-house bright yel
low. Instantly Windham, near by, voted that its
meeting-house be "colored something like the Pom
fret meeting-house." Killingly, in turn, gave orders
that "the cuUering of the body of our meeting-

8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
house should be like the Pomfret meeting-house,
and the Roff shal be cuUered Read." But Brooklyn
carried off the palm, with a combination of orange,
chocolate and white, which must have been startling
even in 1762, and which would surely have sent
Cotton Mather into convulsions, had he been alive to
see. Wolves' heads outside the meeting-house; inside,
the village powder magazine! It was the safest
place, because there was never any fire in the meet
ing-house. Sometimes in the steeple, sometimes un
der the roof-beams, there the "powder-closite" was.
If a thunder-storm came on during service, the con
gregation ran out, and waited under the trees till
it was over.
Few meeting-houses boasted a bell. The shrill
toot of a horn, the clear blast of a conch-shell, or
the roll of a drum, gave the signal for prayer, and
brought the villagers hurrying from their doors and
across the green to the meeting-house. In East
Hadley, the man who "blew the cunk" received
three dollars a year for his services. The drummer
was better paid, receiving fourteen shiUings of the
town's money.
This digression on meeting-houses (drawn from
Mrs. Alice Morse Earle's delightful "Sabbath in

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 9
Puritan New England") may be pardoned if it gives
some idea of the disaster so briefly recorded by Par
son Smith. Neither parson nor parishioners were
one whit discouraged, however. On May 16th, it
is true, they kept a "Fast, to bewail the burning of
our Meeting House" : but on August 7th we read :
"Began to raise Weymouth Meeting House, 3 days
and half about it." And on September 1st: "Met
in our New Meeting House. I p(reache)d."
What heroic labor, what depth and height of ear
nest purpose, what self-denial and sacrifice, these
eight brief words represent, we may well imagine,
but Parson Smith gives us no help. The thing was
done : there was no more to say.
About this time, we begin to find ominous entries
in the diary, following one another in quick and
grievous succession. On the same page that re
cords (August ISth) "P'd £15 for my wig," we
read, "Mr. Benjamin Bicknells Child Died of the
throat Distemper." Two days later : "Mr. Pettee's
Daughter Died of the Throat D. aged 5. Paid £4
for a hat for my Son."
Every day through the rest of the year they were
dying, the little children, of what we may suppose
was diphtheria, or some kindred affection. It was
a dreadful time. On November 21st we read :

10 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"Fast Day at Mr. Bayleys Parish on account of
the throat Distemper prevailing there. Mr. Colton
p'd from 2 Jer. 30 'In vain have I smitten yr c(hil-
dre)n ye rec'd no Correction.' "
There had been a similar epidemic in 1735-6. In
twelve months, nine hundred and eighty-four died
of the distemper, by far the greater part under ten
years of age — "the woful effects of Original Sin,"
remarks a pious writer of the time.
All this time little Abigail Smith has been waiting
patiently in her cradle ; now her turn has come. Re
markable woman as she was, perhaps the most strik
ing fact in her life was that she lived. Why or how
any Puritan baby survived its tribulations, one
hardly knows ; that is, any baby born in winter, and
late November is winter in New England. Within
a few days of its birth, the baby was taken to the
meeting-house to be baptized; the meeting-house,
unwarmed, as we have seen, from year's end to
year's end, the wolf Cold waiting to receive the poor
lamb, with jaws opened wider than those that grin
ned on the outer walls of the building. This expedi
tion often completed the baby's earthly career. "Of
Judge Sewall's fourteen children but three survived
him, a majority dying in infancy; and of fifteen
children of his friend Cotton Mather, but two sur-

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING ii
vived their father.* We are not actually told that
the christening expedition killed them, but we may
infer it in many cases.
The baby slept in a hooded cradle ; before going
to his christening, he must be carried upstairs, with
silver and gold in his hand, and "scarlet laid on liis
head to keep him from harm." If he had fits or
rickets, he was largely dosed with snail-water. To
make the "admirable and most famous Snail-water"
you must "take a peck of garden Shel Snails, wash
them well in Small Beer, and put them in an oven
till they have done making a Noise, then take them
out and wipe them well from the green froth that is
upon them, and bruise them shels and all in a Stone
Mortar, then take a Quart of Earthworms, scower
them with salt, slit them, and — " ^ but perhaps you
do not wish to make Snail-water, even the most ad
mirable and famous; and after all, we have no rea
son to think that Abigail Smith had rickets, though
she was a delicate child. She was not thought
strong enough to go to school ; possibly in any case
it might not have been thought necessary for her.
The education of woman was little thought of in
those days; indeed, she herself says in one of her
' "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse
Earle. *Ibid.

12 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
letters that it was fashionable to ridicule female
learning. In another letter, written the year before
her death, she says:
"My early education did not partake of the abun
dant opportunities which the present days offer, and
which even our common country schools now afford.
/ never was sent to any school. I was always sick.
Female education, in the best families, went no
further than writing and arithmetic; in some few
and rare instances, music and dancing."
How, then, did Abigail get her education? Eas
ily enough ; school was not necessary for her. She
loved books, and there were plenty of them, not
only in Parson Smith's study, but in the home of
her grandfather, Colonel John Quincy, then living
at Mount Wollaston, not far from Weymouth. A
great part of her childhood was spent with her
grandparents, and to her grandmother Quincy, in
particular, she always felt that she owed a great
deal. "I have not forgotten," she writes to her own
daughter in 1795, "the excellent lessons which I re
ceived from my grandmother, at a very early period
of life. I frequently think they made a more dura
ble impression upon my mind than those which I re
ceived from my own parents. Whether it was ow-

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 13
ing to the happy method of mixing instruction and
amusement together, or from an inflexible adherence
to certain principles, the utility of which I could
not but see and approve when a child, I know not ;
but maturer years have rendered them oracles of
wisdom to me. I love and revere her memory ; her
lively, cheerful disposition animated all around her,
whilst she edified all by her unaffected piety. This
tribute is due to the memory of those virtues the
sweet remembrance of which will flourish, though
she has long slept with her ancestors."
We can fancy the child sitting by the delightful
grandmother, imbibing instruction and amusement,
working the while at her sampler, or setting delicate
stitches in a shirt for father or grandfather. Girls
do not make the family shirts nowadays; but I
know one dear lady who at seven years old was set
down at her grandmother's side to cut and make a
shirt for her grandfather, taking every stitch her
self. We can see Abigail, too, browsing among
Colonel Quincy's bookshelves; reading Shakespeare
and Dryden and Pope and Prior ; the Spectator, too,
and all the history she could lay her hands on, and
perhaps the novels of Mr. Richardson, Mr. Fielding,
Mr. Smollett, three young men who were making a
great stir in those days. She wrote letters, too^ in

14 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
the fashion of the time; endless letters to girl
friends in Weymouth or Boston, "hifalutin" in
language, but full of good sense and good feeling.
We elders are always sighing, "Give us, ah ! give us
but yesterday!" and I cannot help deploring the
decay of letter-writing. Says Charles Francis
Adams, in the admirable Memoir with which he pre
faces his collection of the letters of John and Abi
gail Adams :
"Perhaps there is no species of exercise, in early
life, more productive of results useful to the mind,
than that of writing letters. Over and above the
mechanical facility of constructing sentences, which
no teaching will afford so well, the interest with
which the object is commonly pursued gives an ex
traordinary impulse to the intellect. This is promoted
in a degree proportionate to the scarcity of tempo
rary and local subjects for discussion. Where there
is little gossip, the want of it must be supplied from
books. The love of literature springs up where the
weeds of scandal take no root. The young ladies of
Massachusetts, in the last century, were certainly
readers, even though only self-taught; and their
taste was not for the feeble and nerveless senti
ment, or the frantic passion, which comes from the
novels and romances in the circulating library of our

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 15
day, but was derived from the deepest wells of Eng
lish literature. The poets and moralists of the
mother country furnished to these inquiring minds
their ample stores, and they were used to an extent
which it 'is at least doubtful if the more pretending
and elaborate instruction of the present generation
would equal."
However this may be, (and I believe every word
of it myself!) we must all be thankful that Abby
Smith formed the letter-writing habit early in life;
if she had not, we might have lacked one of the most
vivid pictures of life in Revolutionary times. Her
girlhood letters (those at least to her girl friends)
were signed "Diana," and were addressed to Myra,
Aspasia, Calliope, Aurelia. Later, in writing to her
faithful friend, lover and husband, "Portia" was the
name she chose, a name that suited her well. Here
is a letter, written in her girlhood, to her friend,
Mrs. Lincoln: "Weymouth, 5 October, 1761.
"My Dear Friend,
"Does not my friend think me a stupid girl, when
she has kindly offered to correspond with me, that I
should be so senseless as not to accept the offer?
Senseless and stupid I would confess myself, and

i6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
that to the greatest degree, if I did not foresee the
many advantages I shall receive from correspond
ing with a lady of your known prudence and under
standing. "I gratefully accept your offer; although I may
be charged with vanity in pretending to entertain
you with my scrawls ; yet I know your generosity is
such, that, like a kind parent, you will bury in ob
livion all my imperfections. I do not aim at enter
taining. I write merely for the instruction and edi
fication which I shall receive, provided you honor
me with your correspondence. . . .
"You bid me tell one of my sparks (I think that
was the word) to bring me to see you. Why! I be
lieve you think they are as plenty as herrings, when,
alas ! there is as great a scarcity of them as there is
of justice, honesty, prudence and many other vir
tues. I've no pretensions to one. Wealth, wealth
is the only thing that is looked after now. 'Tis said
Plato thought, if Virtue would appear to the world,
all mankind would be enamoured with her, but now
interest governs the world, and men neglect the
golden mean.
"But, to be sober, I should really rejoice to come
and see you, but if I wait till I get a (what did you
call 'era?) I fear you'll be blind with age.

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 17
"I can say, in the length of this epistle, I've made
the golden rule mine. Pray, my friend, do not let it
be long before you write to your ever affectionate
"A. S."
One feels sure that Abigail was a good child, as
well as a bright one. She was not an infant
prodigy, one is glad to think ; parents and grandpar
ents were too sensible to play tricks with her mind
or her soul. One sighs to read of the "pious and
ingenious Jane.Turell," a Puritan child who could
relate many stories out of the Scriptures before she
was two years old. "Before she was four years
old, she could say the greater part of the Assem
bly's Catechism, many of the Psalms, read dis
tinctly, and make pertinent remarks on many things
she read. She asked many astonishing questions
about divine mysteries." It is comforting to know
that Jane liked green apples ; her father, at the end
of a pious letter adjures her "as she loves him not
to eat them," but it shows that after all she was a
human child.
We do not know much about the diet of Puritan
children. Parson Smith was a good farmer, killed
his own pork and beef, planted apple trees, made
cider, etc. We may suppose that Abigail had plenty

i8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
of good fish and flesh, with a "sallet" now and then,
and corn, squash, and pumpkins at her desire. "Pom-
pions," the latter were often called, while "squash"
were variously known as squantersquash, askuta-
squash, isquoukersquash, all Indian variants of the
one name which we clip into a monosyllable. Wheat
did not grow well in the Colonies; oaten and rye
meal was chiefly used in combination with the uni
versal corn. They had hasty pudding, boiled in a
bag, or fried: "sukquttahhash," and jonne-cake, or
journey cake, which we have changed by the inser
tion of an h till it appears as if "Johnny" had either
invented or owned it. Parched corn (our pop-corn),
a favorite food of the Indians, was also highly ap
preciated by the Colonists. They were amazed at
first sight of it : Governor Winthrop explains care
fully how, on being parched, the corn turns en
tirely inside out, and is white and floury within.
Sometimes they made it into "No-cake," which is,
we are told, "Indian corn, parched in the hot ashes,
the ashes being sifted from it ; it is afterwards beat
en to powder and put into a long leatherne bag,
trussed like a knapsacke, out of which they take
thrice three spoonfuls a day." This was considered
wonderfully sustaining food; it was mixed, before
eating", with snow in winter, with water in summer.

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 19
The pumpkins were made into "pyes," cakes,
bread, sauce.
We have pumpkins at morning and pumpkins at noon,
If it were not for pumpkins we should be undone.
Potatoes were brought over from England as
early as 1636, but were not grown till some time
later. People were still afraid of them: some
thought that "if a man eat them every day he could
not live beyond seven years." Some again fan
cied the balls were the edible portion, and "did
not much desire them." Nor were the recipes
for cooking them specially inviting. "The
Accomplisht Cook" much in use about the
year 1700 says that potatoes must be "boiled
and blanched; seasoned with nutmeg and cin
namon and pepper; mixed with eringo roots,
dates, lemon, and whole mace ; covered with butter,
sugar, and grape verjuice, made with pastry; then
iced with rosewater and sugar, and yclept a 'Se
cret Pye.' " "
Let us hope that Mrs. Smith, a Quincy born,
knew better than to torture and overwhelm a worthy
vegetable! We know little of this good lady, but
'"Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice
Morse Earle. \

20 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
we may suppose that she was a notable housewife,
since her daughter in later life showed such skill
in all household arts. We shall see by and by how
Abigail baked and brewed, spun and wove, clothed
and fed and cared for her family, often with little
or no assistance. We may fancy her now, trotting
about after Mother Smith at Weymouth or Grand
mother Quincy at Wollaston, her bright eyes noting
everything, her quick fingers mastering all the arts
of preserving, candying, distilling. There was a
passion for such work among the New England
women in those days.
"They made preserves and conserves, marmalets
and quiddonies, hypocras and household wines, us-
quebarbs and cordials. They candied fruits and
made syrups. They preserved everything that would
bear preserving. I have seen old-time receipts for
preserving quinces, 'respasse,' pippins, 'apri-
cocks,' plums, 'damsins,' peaches, oranges, lemons,
artichokes ; green walnuts, elecampane roots, eringo
roots, grapes, barberries, cherries; receipts for
syrup of clove gillyflower, wormwood, mint, ani
seed, clove, elder, lemons, marigold, citron, hyssop,
liquorice ; receipts for conserves of roses, violets, bo
rage flowers, rosemary, betony, sage, mint, lavender,
marjoram, and 'piony'; rules for candying fruit,

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 21
berries, and flowers, for poppy water, cordial, cherry
water, lemon water, thyme water, Angelica water.
Aqua Mirabilis, Aqua Celestis, clary water, mint
water." "
Good living was cheap in Abigail's childhood. An
English traveler, visiting Boston in 1740, writes
thus : "Their poultry of all sorts are as fine as can
be desired, and they have plenty of fine fish of va
rious kinds, all of which are very cheap. Take the
butchers' meat all together, in every season of the
year, I beheve it is about twopence per pound sterl
ing; the best beef and mutton, lamb and veal are
often sold for sixpence per pound of New England
money, which is some small matter more than one
penny sterling.
"Poultry in their season are exceeding cheap.
As good a turkey may be bought for about two shil
lings sterling as we can buy in London for six or
seven, and as fine a goose for tenpence as would
cost three shillings and sixpence or four shillings
in London. The cheapest of all the several kinds
of poultry are a sort of wild pigeon, which are
in season the latter end of June, and so continue
until September. They are large, and finer than
" "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse
Earle.

22 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
those we have in London, and are sold here for
eighteenpence a dozen, and sometimes for half of
that. "Fish, too, is exceedingly cheap. They sell a fine
fresh cod that will weigh a dozen pounds or more,
just taken out of the sea, for about twopence ster
ling. They have smelts, too, which they sell as cheap
as sprats are in London. Salmon, too, they have in
great plenty, and these they sell for about a shilling
apiece, which will weigh fourteen or fifteen pounds."
Shad, strange to say, was profoundly despised.
In Puritan times they were fed to the hogs ; in 1733
they sold two for a penny, and it was not at all "the
thing" to eat them — or at least to be seen eating
them ! A story is told of a family in Hadley, Mas
sachusetts, who were about to dine on a shad; and
who, hearing a knock at the door, delayed opening it
till shad and platter had been hustled out of sight.
"They have venison very plenty. They will sell
as fine a haunch for half a crown as would cost full
thirty shillings in England. Bread is much cheaper
than we have in England, but is not near so good.
Butter is very fine, and cheaper than ever I bought
any in London; the best is sold all summer for
threepence a pound. But as for cheese, it is neither
cheap nor good."

BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 23
And milk was one penny a quart !
But we shall see great changes before we finish
our story. These were the years of plenty, of the
fat kine and the full ears of corn. Eat your fill,
Abigail ! drink your milk while it is a penny a quart;
the lean years are coming, when you wiU pinch and
scrape and use all your wit and abiUty to feed and
clothe your family, and will look back with a sigh
on these full years of your childhood.

CHAPTER II
GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE
WE are told that Abigail Smith in her childhood
and girlhood was "surrounded by people of
learning and political sagacity." Who were some of
these people? At home in Weymouth, there was her
father, of course, "remarkably lively and animated
in all his public performances," as we learn from his
tombstone. Doubtless his company was stimulating
to the bright Uttle girl; perhaps he took her with
him now and then on his trips to Boston or Hing
ham, when he went to preach or to buy "Flower" ;
and ministers and other godly folk often came to the
parsonage. But probably at her grandparents'
home she saw even more people of learning and po
litical sagacity. The Quincy clan itself made a
goodly fellowship of cultivated men and women.
The Hancocks lived near by. John Hancock was a
boy of seven when Abigail was born. In the year
1755, when she was eleven, he was a lad of eight
een; had graduated the year before from Harvard
24

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 25,
College and had already begun a brilliant mercan
tile career. John was handsome and always fond
of good clothes and gay colors. We have no de
scription of his youthful costumes, but we know
that one day in later life he wore "a red velvet cap
within which was one of fine linen, the last turned up
two or three inches over the lower edge of the vel
vet. He also wore a blue damask gown lined with
' ' velvet, a white stock, a white satin embroidered
waistcoat, black satin small-clothes, white silk
stockings and red morocco slippers."
.Roxbury was not far off, and here lived the War
rens, warm friends of the Quincys. Joseph Warren
was three years younger than Abigail; they may
have played together in the Quincy gardens. We
may fancy them, the little maid in bib and apron,
mitts and kerchief; the little lad in flapped coat,
knee-breeches, and waist-coat reaching to his knees ;
both have buckled shoes. Abby's hair is rolled
smoothly back over a cushion. Pompadour-fashion,
and tied behind with a ribbon; Joseph's worn in
much the same way, but without the cushion.
There was another young man named John, who
may have made calls either of ceremony or of
friendship at the Quincy mansion. John Adams
was a year behind John Hancock in college, having

26 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
graduated in this very year 1755, which I have
chosen for a survey of my heroine's surroundings.
He came of good New England stock, his father
being a substantial farmer, and for many years a
selectman of the town of Braintree. The Adamses
were never rich, yet we are told that there had been
a silver spoon in the family for four generations.
"In the year 1791, Miss Hannah Adams, the his
torian, in writing to John Adams, made reference
to the 'humble obscurity' of their common origin.
Her correspondent, in reply, while acknowledging
the kinship, went on energetically to remark that,
could he 'ever suppose that family pride were any
way excusable, [he] should think a descent from a
line of virtuous, independent New England farmers
for a hundred and sixty years was a better founda
tion for it than a descent through royal or noble
scoundrels ever since the flood.' " *
When young John was sixteen, his father offered
him the choice of foUowing the family pursuit of
farming, and inheriting his share of the family es
tate, worth some thirteen hundred pounds, or of
having a "learned education" for aU his inheritance.
There was no question of John Adams' choice; he
* "Three Episodes of Massachusetts History.'' C. F. Adams.

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 27
went to Harvard, as we have seen, and was one of
the four best scholars in college at the time.
Shortly after receiving his degree, he became the
teacher of the grammar school in the town of Wor
cester. This must have been a doleful change from
his college life, with its gay and stimulating com
panionship, but he entered on the new work man
fully, if not enthusiastically, and prospered in it.
Why do my thoughts so cluster round this year
1755? Why not take 1754, when Abigail was ten
years old, or 1764, when she was twenty? Well,
I shaU have plenty to say about 1764, for that was
the year — but never mind ! The truth is, 1755 was a
remarkable year, "a year never to be forgotten in
America," ^ a year made memorable by the cruel ex
pulsion of the French from Nova Scotia, by the
destruction of General Braddock's army, by the un
fortunate attempt of Sir WiUiam Johnson against
Crown Point. These were incidents in the so-called
French and Indian War, a war in some respects
more dreadful than any other up to that of the
present day; a war specially momentous for all
Americans, since it was to pay the debts then con
tracted that Great Britain levied on the American
Colonies (which had voluntarily spent vast sums
' "History of Massachusetts." Minot.

28 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and suffered untold hardships in this war), the taxes
which brought about the American Revolution.
So much from the historical point of view; but
for myself, I must confess that two events, one act
ual and terrible, the other conjectural and delightful,
fixed 1755 at an early age in my mind.
That was the year when Lisbon town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down.
I must have been a very small child when I
proudly owned the Little Green Geography Book.
There has been no other geography book like it ; it
was small, and square, and apple-green ; it had many
and wonderful pictures. Among these pictures,
three impressed me most deeply: one of the Mael
strom, where a large vessel was going down over
the edge of a terrifying circle like a round Niagara
Falls ; another of Peruvian Indians pulling up plants
by the roots, and collecting quicksilver by the quart,
it would appear. The third, and by far the most
thrilling and terrifying, was of the Lisbon Earth
quake. The ground was opening in every direction
in long horrid chasms, and into these chasms were
falling churches, houses, men, in dreadful confu
sion. This picture and that of the Maelstrom had a
strange fascination for me; I was forever poring

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 29
over them, when I should have been learning about
the exports of Russia, of which to this day I can
give little account.
And then — but every one of my readers knows
that 'Twas on the terrible Earthquake Day
That the Deacon finished the One Hoss Shay.
So it really is not surprising that 1755 is an annus
mirabilis to me.
It is interesting to find that the earthquake came
over seas to this country, and created considerable
disturbance, though no serious damage was done.
November the first was Lisbon's day of doom; it
was the eighteenth before the internal commotion
reached Massachusetts.
Parson Smith alludes to it with characteristic
brevity: "A great and terrible earthquake hap
pened." Six words ! We can fancy Mrs. Smith rushing to
his study, crying out that the chimneys were falling,
that Neighbor Wibird's great elm was down ; daugh
ter Mary bringing the news that the "Chaney Tea
pot had faUen from the dresser and was in a hun
dred pieces.
This, I say, we are at liberty to fancy, but Parson

30 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Smith will not help us. His next entry is : "Married
David Bicknell to Jerusha Vinsen. Lent the Dr.
a paU of hair."
(No; I don't believe it was his wig; it was proba
bly cattle hair, to use with mortar; but he does not
say.) John Adams is kinder to us. His diary begins
thus: "We had a very severe shock of an earthquake.
It continued near four minutes. I then was at my
father's in Braintree, and awoke out of my sleep in
the midst of it. The house seemed to rock and reel
and crack, as if it would fall in ruins about us.
Chimneys were shattered by it within one mile of
my father's house."
John Adams' diary is as different from that of
his future father-in-law as cheese from chalk. No
abbreviations here ; no dry statistics of birth, death,
marriage, as if they were of no human interest. He
pours out his roUing periods with evident enjoy
ment. His son, who edits the diary, says :
"These are loose fragments .of journal in the
hand-writing of John Adams upon scraps of paper
scarcely legible, from i8 November, 1755, to 20
November, 1761. They were effusions of mind,
committed from time to time to paper, probably

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 31
without the design of preserving them ; self-exam
inations at once severe and stimulative; reflections
upon others, sometimes, not less severe upon his
friends; thoughts such as occur to aU, some of
which no other than an unsullied soul would com
mit to writing, mingled with conceptions at once
comprehensive and profound."
The future President was already deeply inter
ested in public affairs ; his ardent patriotism was al
ready forecasting the future of his beloved country.
Shortly before the beginning of the Diary, he
writes to his friend and kinsman, Nathan Webb :
"All that part of creation which lies within our
observation, is liable to change. Even mighty states
and kingdoms are not exempt. . . . Soon after the
Reformation, a few people came over into this new
world for conscience's sake. Perhaps this appar
ently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of
empire into America. It looks likely to me; for if
we can remove the turbulent GaUicks, our people,
according to the exactest computation, will in an
other century become more numerous than England
itself. Should this be the case, since we have, I may
say, aU 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

32 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
to subdue us. The only way to keep us from set
ting up for ourselves is to disunite us. Divide et im-
pera. Keep us distinct colonies, and then, some
great men in each colony desiring the monarchy of
the whole, they will destroy each others' influence
and keep the country in equilibria.
"Be not surprised that I am turned politician.
This whole town is immersed in politics. The in
terests of nations, and all the dira of war, make the
subject of every conversation. I sit and hear, and
after having been led through a maze of sage ob
servations, I sometimes retire, and by laying things
together, form some reflections pleasing to myself.
The produce of one of these reveries you have read
above. . . .
"Friendship, I take it, is one of the distinguishing
glories of man; and the creature that is insensible
of its charms, though he may wear the shape of
man, is unworthy of the character. In this, perhaps,
we bear a nearer resemblance to unembodied intelli
gences than in anything else. From this I expect
to receive the chief happiness of my future life; and
am sorry that fortune has thrown me at such a dis
tance from those of my friends who have the high
est place in my affections. But thus it is, and I must
submit. But I hope ere long to return, and live in

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 33
that familiarity that has from earliest infancy sub
sisted between yourself and affectionate friend,
"John Adams."
We shall see about this. Friendship played an
important part in John Adams' life; but it was not
to form the chief happiness of his life.
He did not enjoy teaching; witness another let
ter to Nathan Webb.
"The situation of the town is quite pleasant, and
the inhabitants, as far as I have had opportunity
to know their character, are a sociable, generous,
and hospitable people; but the school is indeed a
school of affliction. A large number of Uttle runt-
lings, just capable of lisping ABC, and troubling
the master. But Dr. Savil teUs me, for my comfort,
'by cultivating and pruning these tender plants in
the garden of Worcester, I shaU make some of them
plants of renown and cedars of Lebanon.' However
this be, I am certain that keeping this school any
length of time, would make a base weed and ignoble
shrub of me."
Yet at times he realized the value of his work.
We read in the diary of 1756:
"I sometimes in my sprightly moments consider
myself, in my great chair at school, as some dicta-

34 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
tor at the head of a commonwealth. In this little
state I can discover all the great geniuses, aU the
surprising actions and revolutions of the great
world, in miniature. I have several renowned gen
erals but three feet high, and several deep projecting
politicians in petticoats. I have others catching and
dissecting flies, accumulating" remarkable pebbles,
cockle-shells, etc., with as ardent curiosity as any
virtuoso in the Royal Society. Some rattle and thun
der out ABC, with as much fire and impetuosity
as Alexander fought, and very often sit down and
cry as heartily upon being outspelt, as Csesar did,
when at Alexander's sepulchre he reflected that the
Macedonian hero had conquered the world before
his age. At one table sits Mr. Insipid, foppling and
fluttering, spinning his whirligig, or playing with
his fingers, as gaily and wittily as any Frenchified
cox-comb brandishes his cane or rattles his snuff
box. At another, sits the polemical divine, plodding
and wrangling in his mind about 'Adam's fall, in
which we sinned all,' as his Primer has it. In short,
my Uttle school, like the great world, is made up of
kings, politicians, divines, L.D.'s, fops, buffoons, fid
dlers, sycophants, fools, coxcombs, chimney-sweep
ers, and every other character drawn in history, or
seen in the world. Is it not, then, the highest pleas-

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 35
ure, my friend, to preside in this little world, to be
stow the proper applause upon virtuous and gener
ous actions, to blame and punish every vicious and
contracted trick, to wear out of the tender mind
everything that is mean and little, and fire the new
born soul with a noble ardor, and emulation ?"
Out of school hours, John Adams was studying
law with all possible diligence. By 1758 he was able
to give up teachirig, and was admitted to practise at
the Massachusetts bar. His ability was recognized
at once. A few years later, Governor Barnard,
wishing to attach this promising young lawyer to
the royal party, offered him the office of advocate-
general in the Admiralty Court, which was consid
ered a sure step to the highest honors of the bench.
This was the young man who, in 1764, came
knocking at the door of Parson Smith of Wey
mouth, asking the hand of his daughter Abigail in
marriage ; to whom she writes on April 20th :
"I hope you smoke your letters weU, before you
deliver them. Mamma is so fearful lest I should
catch the distemper, that she hardly ever thinks the
letters are sufficiently purified. Did you never rob
a bird's nest ? Do you remember how the poor bird
would fly round and round, fearful to come nigh,
yet not know how to leave the place? Just so they

36 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
say I hover round Tom, whilst he is smoking my
letters. "But heyday, Mr. What's your name, who taught
you to threaten so violently? 'A character besides
that of a critic, in which if I never did, I always
hereafter shall fear you.' Thou canst not prove a
villain, impossible, — I, therefore, still insist upon it,
that I neither do nor can fear thee. For my part, I
know not that there is any pleasure in being feared ;
but, if there is, I hope you will be so generous as to
fear your Diana, that she may at least be made
sensible of the pleasure. Mr. Ayers will bring you
this letter and the bag. Do not repine, — it is filled
with balm.
"Here is love, respects, good wishes, regards — a
whole wagon load of them, sent you from all the
good folks in the neighborhood.
"Tomorrow makes the fourteenth day. How
many more are to come? I dare not trust myself
with the thought. Adieu. Let me hear from you
by Mr. Ayers, and excuse this very bad writing; if
you had mended my pen it would have been better.
Once more, Adieu. Gold and silver have I none,
but such as I have give I unto thee, — which is the
affectionate regard of your
"A. S."

Abigail Adams
From an early portrait

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 37
We know Uttle of the preliminary steps in
the courtship. The young lawyer, riding his cir
cuit, naturally passed through Weymouth, perhaps
rode directly by the house of Parson Smith. The
parson doubtless knew the elder Adams, would nat
urally offer civility and hospitality to his son ; a man
of parts himself, he would quickly perceive the in
telligence and character of the young lawyer. But
the Family at Large was mightily disturbed. Law
yers were looked askance at in those days ; the law
was a new profession, probably a dangerous, possi
bly an iniquitous one. Quincys, Nortons, Tynes,
all shook their heads emphatically. The whole par
ish followed suit. What! Abigail, with her wit,
beauty, gentle blood and breeding, marry "one of
the dishonest tribe of Ia\vyers," the son of a small
country farmer ? Perish the thought !
The elder sister Mary had been married the year
before to Richard Cranch. This was thought a
wholly suitable match. Parson Smith preached a
wedding sermon, taking for his text, "And Mary
hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken
away from her," and everybody was pleased. But
no one, except the contracting parties and the Par
son, seems to have approved of AbigaU's marrying
John Adams. This, however, troubled none of the

38 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
three overmuch. It is true that John had to do his
courting without assistance from his future "in
laws." He must tie his horse to a tree and find his
Abigail as he could : no one even offered him a
courting-stick, that "hollow stick about an inch in
diameter and six or eight feet long, fitted with
mouth and ear pieces" * through which some lovers,
seated on either side of the great fireplace, had to
carry on their courtship in the presence of the whole
family. Possibly John Adams might have declined this
privilege even had it been offered. He has nothing
to say about his courtship, but thus soberly and
gravely he writes of his marriage.
"Here it may be proper to recollect something
which makes an article of great importance in the
life of every man. I was of an amorous disposition,
and, very early, from ten or eleven years of age,
was very fond of the society of females. I had my
favorites among the young women, and spent many
of my evenings in their company; and this dispo
sition, although controlled for seven years after my
entrance into college, retumed and engaged me too
much till I was married.
* "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse
Earle.

GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 39
"I shall draw no characters, nor give any enumer
ation of my youthful flames. It would be considered
as no compliment to the dead or the living. This,
I will say : — they were all modest and virtuous girls,
and always maintained their character through life.
No virgin or matron ever had cause to blush at the
sight of me, or to regret her acquaintance with
me. . . .
"I passed the summer of 1764 in attending courts
and pursuing my studies, with some amusement on
my little farm, to which I was frequently making
additions, until the fall, when, on the 25th day of
October, I was married to Miss Smith, second
daughter of the Rev. WiUiam Smith, minister of
Weymouth, granddaughter of the Honorable John
Quincy, of Braintree, a connection which has been
the soufce of all my felicity, although a sense of
duty; which forced me away from her and my
children for so many years, produced all the griefs
of my heart, and all that I esteem real afflictions in
Ufe." So they were married, and the parson conveyed
a gentle reproof to his family and parishioners by
preaching a sermon from Luke vii •.:i3 : "For John
came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and
ye say, 'He hath a devil.' "

CHAPTER III
THE BOSTON MASSACRE
IT was not a gay wedding, this of Abigail Smith
and John Adams. They were married quietly
by good Parson Smith, and then, hand in hand,
walked across the fields to the little lean-to farm
house where they were to find so much happiness
and to live through such difficult times. It seems un
likely that Abigail enjoyed the pretty Colonial
custom of "coming out Bride," of which we read in
old diaries and letters. On the first Sunday after the
wedding it was customary for the bride and groom,
"whether old or young, gentle or simple," to go to
church in the very best finery they could muster.
If they were well-to-do, they kept this up for the
four Sundays, of the honeymoon, sometimes — oh,
un-Puritan extravagance ! — in a new gown and suit
each time!
"They usually arrived a bit late, in order to have
their full meed of attention; and proceeded slowly,
arm in arm, down the broad aisle to seats of honor,
40

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 41
in the hushed attention of the entire congregation.
... At a certain point in the services, usually after
the singing of the second hymn, the happy couple, in
agonies of shyness and pride, rose to their feet, and
turned slowly twice or thrice around before the eyes
of the whole delighted assembly, thus displaying to
the full every detail of their attire." ^
This would not have suited either Abigail or John
Adams. Their tastes were simple, their minds set
on far other things than clothes. Mrs. Adams was
always neat and trim in her dress, never extravagant
or ostentatious. Whether in the little Braintree
farmhouse, at the Court of St. James, or as Lady of
the White House, she was always the same — sim
ple, modest, dignified: an example and an inspira
tion to all around her.
The first ten years of her married life were passed
happily and quietly, partly in Braintree, partly in
Boston, whither Mr. Adams' increasing law prac
tice often called him. Four children were born to
her, a daughter named for herself, and three sons,
John Quincy, Charles and Thomas.
Mrs. Adams kept no diary ; it is to her husband's
that we naturally turn for records of these ten
*"Two Centuries of Costume in America." Alice Morse
Earle.

42 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
years of happy family life. Alas! he has nothing
to say about them. He was living his home Ufe ; it
never occurred to him to write about it. His diary
is concerned with public and professional affairs,
and with them alone.
It was not till forced apart by the pressure of pub
lic duties and private service, that these two loving
hearts needed any other expression than the spoken
word of affection, cheer and sympathy. It is to the
breaking up of their happy home life that we owe
the FamiUar Letters which are of such priceless
value to all students of American history, to all
lovers of high and noble thought.
But we have not come to the separation yet; we
must consider these ten silent years, and fill in the
picture as best we may.
Here is a sketch, boldly drawn by John Adams
himself, writing in his old age to a friend, which
brings the time before us as nothing else can. He is
describing a scene in the Council Chamber in the
old Town House, in February, 1761.
"In this chamber, round a great fire, were seated
five judges, with Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson
at their head as Chief Justice, all arrayed in their
new, fresh, rich robes of scarlet English broadcloth ;
in their large cambric bands and immense judicial

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 43
wigs. ... In this chamber were seated at a long
table all the barristers at law of Boston, and of the
neighboring county of Middlesex in gowns, bands,
and tie wigs. They were not seated on ivory chairs,
but their dress was more solemn and pompous than
that of the Roman Senate, when the Gauls broke
in upon them. . . .
"Samuel Quincy and John Adams had been ad
mitted barristers at that term. John was the young
est ; he should be painted looking like a short, thick
archbishop of Canterbury, seated at the table with
a pen in his hand, lost in admiration.
"But Otis was a flame of fire, with ... a torrent
of impetuous eloquence, he hurried away everything
before him. . . . Then and there the child Inde
pendence was born."
The year 1763 is usually regarded as the begin
ning of the American Revolution, since it was in
that year that George III and his ministers deter
mined to raise a revenue from, the colonies. These
matters belong rather to history than to biography,
but we must briefly note the most striking events of
this important time. In 1761 were issued the Writs
of Assistance, which empowered Government of
ficials to enter and search the houses of citizens for
possible contraband goods. In 1765 came the Stamp

44 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Act, imposing war-taxes on the Colonies, and
struck cold on the hearts of the colonists. Franklin,
seldom stirred out of his philosophic calm, cried
aloud on hearing of it, "The sun of liberty is set !"
For John Adams, it was the call to action, and from
it dates his entrance into the field of politics. He
was a selectman of Braintree at this time : "he pre
pared at home a draft of instructions, and carried
them with him to the meeting. They were accepted
by the town without a dissenting voice, and being
published in Draper's paper, from a copy furnished
to the printer at his request, were adopted by forty
other towns of the province, as instructions to their
respective representatives. Passages from them
were also adopted in the instructions from the town
of Boston to their representatives, which were
drawn up by Samuel Adams."
Immediately after the Boston tovra meeting, John
Adams was asked to appear as counsel for the town
before the governor and council, "in support of the
memorial of the town, praying that the courts of
law in the province" (closed by order of the gover
nor, because the stamps had not been delivered)
might be opened.
Singularly enough, on the same evening, possibly
at the same hour, when the people of Boston were

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 45
thus showing their trust and confidence in him, Mr.
Adams was recording in his diary the doubts and
fears which beset him at the prospect opened before
him by the Stamp Act and its consequences.
"The bar seem to me to behave like a flock of shot
pigeons; they seem to be stopped; the net seems to
be thrown over them, and they have scarcely cour
age left to flounce and to flutter. So sudden an
interruption in my career is very unfortunate for
me. I was but just getting into my gears, just get
ting under sail, and an embargo is laid upon the ship.
Thirty years of my life are passed in preparation
for business; I have had poverty to struggle with,
envy and jealousy and malice of enemies to encoun
ter, no friends, or but few, to assist me; so that I
have groped in dark obscurity, till of late, and had
but just become known and gained a small degree of
reputation, when this execrable project was set on
foot for my ruin as well as that of America in gen
eral, and of Great Britain."
On receiving the invitation from Boston next day,
he marveled.
"When I recollect my own reflections and specu
lations yesterday, a part of which were committed
to writing last night, and may be seen under Decem
ber i8th, and compare them with the proceedings of

46 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Boston yesterday, of which the foregoing letter in
formed me, I cannot but wonder, and call to mind
Lord Bacon's observation about secret invisible
laws of nature, and communications and influences
between places that are not discovered by sense.
"But I am now under all obligations of interest
and ambition, as well as honor, gratitude and duty,
to exert the utmost of my abiUties in this important
cause. How shall it be conducted?"
As we all know, the Stamp Act was repealed in
March, 1776, and we find no more doubts or fears
in John Adams' diary. Henceforth he belonged to
his country. So did the diary ! From now on it is
chiefly a record of public affairs. This was natural,
but one does wish he had said a little more about his
home and family. Only now and then do we find
an entry of this kind :
"A duller day than last Monday, when the Pro
vince was in a rapture for the repeal of the Stamp
Act, I do not remember to have passed. My wife,
who had long depended on going to Boston, and my
little babe, were both very ill, of an whooping cough.
Myself under obligation to attend the superior court
at Plymouth the next day, and therefore unable to
go to Boston, and the town of Braintree insensible
to the common joy!"

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 47
Or we read: "Set off with my wife for Salem;
stopped half an hour at Boston, crossed the ferry,
and at three o'clock arrived at HiU's, the tavern in
Maiden, the sign of the Rising Eagle, at the brook
near Mr. Emerson's meeting-house, five miles from
Norwood's: where, namely, at HiU's, we dined.
Here we fell in company with Kent and Sewall.
We all oated at Martin's, where we found the new
sheriff of Essex, Colonel Saltonstall. We all rode
into town together. Arrived at my dear brother
Granch's about eight, and drank tea, and are all very
happy. Sat and heard the ladies talk about ribbon,
catgut, and Paris net, ridinghoods, cloth, silk and
lace. Brother Cranch came home, and a very happy
evening we had."
Mr. Cranch was the gentleman in marrying whom
Mary Smith had "chosen the good part." The
brothers-in-law were warm friends and there were
many pleasant family meetings.
"April Sth. Mounted my horse, in a very rainy
morning, for Barnstable, leaving my dear brother
Cranch and his family at my house. Arrived at Dr.
Tufts', where I found a fine wild goose on the spit,
and cranberries stewing in the skillet for dinner.
Tufts, as soon as he heard that Cranch was at Brain
tree, determined to go over and bring him and wife

48 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and child over, to dine upon wild goose, and cran
berry sauce."
In the spring of 1768, Mr. Adams moved into
Boston with his wife and children. It was the first
of several moves, which he thus records in his diary
four years later :
"In April, 1768, I removed to Boston, to the
white house in Brattle Square. In the spring, 1769,
I removed to Cole Lane, to Mr. Fayerweather's
house. In 1770, I removed to another house in
Brattle Square, where Dr. Cooper now lives; in
1 77 1, I removed from Boston to Braintree, in the
month of April, where I have lived to this time. I
hopel shall not have occasion to remove so often
for four years and a half to come."
In 1768, John Adams went on circuit as usual.
Returning, he found the town full of troops. They
had landed "about one o'clock at noon, October the
first, under cover of the ship's cannon, without mo
lestation; and, having effected it, marched into the
Common with muskets charged, bayonets fixed,
drums beating, fifes playing, etc., making, with the
train of artillery, upward of seven hundred men." ^
The diary continues : "Through the whole suc
ceeding Fall and Winter, a regiment was exercised
'"Gordon's History.''

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 49
by Major SmaU, in Brattle Square, directly in front
of my house. The spirit-stirring drum and the ear-
piercing fife aroused me and my family early enough
every morning, and the indignation they excited,
though somewhat soothed, was not allayed by the
sweet songs, violins and flutes, of the serenading
Sons of Liberty under my windows in the evening.
In this way and a thousand others, I had sufiicient
intimations that the hopes and confidence of the peo
ple were placed in me as one of their friends ; and
I was determined that, so far as depended on me,
they should not be disappointed; and that if I could
render them no positive assistance at least I would
never take any part against them.
"My daily reflections for two years, at the sight
of these soldiers before my door, were serious
enough. Their very appearance in Boston was a
strong proof to me, that the determination in Great
Britain to subjugate us was too deep and invet
erate ever to be altered by us; for every thing we
could do was misrepresented, and nothing we could
say was credited. On the other hand, I had read
enough in history to be well aware of the errors to
which thie public opinions of the people were liable in
times of great heat and danger, as well as of the ex
travagances of which the populace of cities were ca-

50 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
pable when artfully excited to passion, and even
when justly provoked by oppression. . . .
"The danger I was in appeared in full view before
me; and I very deliberately, and, indeed, very
solemnly, determined at all events to adhere to my
principles in favor of my native country, which, in
deed, was all the country I knew, or which had been
known by my father, grandfather, or great grand
father; but, on the other hand, I never would de
ceive the people, nor conceal from them any essential
truth, nor, especially, make myself subservient to
any of their crimes, follies, or eccentricities. These
rules, to the utmost of my capacity and pow^r, I
have invariably and religiously observed to this
day." The drumming! and fifings were to have more
serious results than the disturbing of good citizens'
slumbers. The presence of the troops in Boston
proved a constant and growing irritation to the citi
zens, already exasperated by repeated aggressions.
The soldiers saw no reason why they should be po
lite to the people, the people saw every reason why
they should be rude to the soldiers. There were con
stant wrangles and jangles, growing more and more
frequent, more and more violent, till at length, on

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 51
the night of March 5th, 1770, the seething pot boiled
over. John Adams writes :
"The evening df the fifth of March I spent at Mr.
Henderson Inches' house, at the south end of Bos
ton, in company with a club with whom I had been
associated for several years. About nine o'clock
we were alarmed with the ringing of bells, and, sup
posing it to be the signal of fire, we snatched our
hats and cloaks, broke up the club, and went out to
assist in quenching the fire, or aiding our friends
who might be in danger. In the street we were in
formed that the British soldiers had fired on the in
habitants, killed some and wounded others, near the
town-house. A crowd of people was flowing down
the street to the scene of action. When we arrived,
we saw nothing but some field-pieces placed before
the south door of the town-house, and some engi
neers and grenadiers drawn up to protect them.
. . . Having surveyed round the town house, and
seeing all quiet, I walked down Boylston Alley into
Brattle Square, where a company or two of regular
soldiers were drawn up in front of Dr. Cooper's old
church, with their muskets aU shouldered, and their
bayonets all fixed. I had no other way to proceed
but along the whole front in a very narrow space
which they had left for passengers. Pursuing my

52 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
way, without taking the least notice of them, or they
of me, any more than if they had been marble
statues, I went directly home to Cole Lane."
What had happened was the Boston Massacre,
which is vividly described by John Quincy Adams,
at that time a child of two years.
It was nine o'clock of a moonlight night, he tells
us, and there had been a light fall of snow on the icy
streets. A single sentry was pacing slowly up and
down before the door of the custom house in King
Street. From his beat he could hear shouts and
tumult in the neighboring streets ; Boston did not go
to bed at curfew these days. Parties of citizens had
met parties of soldiers, and exchanged uncompli
mentary remarks, with shouts and threats on either
side. Probably the sentry thought little of this : it
went on every night, more or less. Presently, how
ever, round the corner came a barber's boy, and be
gan to "slang" the sentry himself. This was another
matter, and he responded in kind. The dispute ran
high ; other boys came running, and with them men,
angry men who had had their fiU of British inso
lence. The sentry, who for his part had had quite
enough of "rebel impudence," called for support,
and out came a corporal and six men (or twelve —
the accounts vary) under the direction of Captain

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 53
Preston, and ranged themselves in a semi-circle in
front of his post. Instantly, as if by magic, the sol
diers were surrounded by "forty or fifty of the
lower order of town's people, who had been roving
the streets armed with billets of wood. . . . What
begins with jeering and profanity not seldom ends
in some shape or other of deepest tragedy. Forty or
fifty of the coarsest people of a small trading town
and eight hirelings of an ordinary British regiment
can scarcely be imagined as types of any solid prin
ciple or exalted sentiment, and yet at the bottom lay
the root of bitterness which soon afterwards yielded
such abundant fruit. This was the first protest
against the application of force to the settlement of
a question of right."
i We all know the outcome. Seven df the soldiers,
"either under orders or without orders," fired : five
men fell mortally wounded: six others were
wounded less seriously. Each musket was loaded
with two baUs and every ball took effect. "So fatal
a precision of aim, indicating not a little malignity,
though it seems never to have attracted notice, is
one of the most singular cirumstances attending the
affray. No wonder, then, that peaceable citizens of
a town, until now inexperienced in events of the
kind, should, in their horror of the spectacle, have

54 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
called the act a massacre, and have demanded, in
tones the most absolute, the instantaneous removal
of the cause. The armed hand, which had done this
deed, was that of England. It was not that of a
friend or guardian. The drops of blood then shed
in Boston were like the dragon's teeth of ancient
fable — the seeds, from which sprung up the multi
tudes who would recognize no arbitration but the
deadly one of the battle-field."
There can have been little sleep that night for
either Mr. or Mrs. Adams. The latter was in deU
cate health. The roU of the drums, the shouts of
"Town-born, turn out, turn out!" the tramp of sol
diers, as company after company was hurried to the
scene of action, must have been terrifying enough.
Still the tumult grew, till at length Lieutenant-Gov
ernor Hutchinson, with great difficulty making him
self heard from the balcony of the town house (now
known as the Old State House) pledged his word
to the citizens that justice should be done, and pre
vailed upon the commander of the troops to with
draw them to their barracks.
This quieted the tumult, but still a crowd o'f anx
ious citizens — not the rioters, but the sober patriots
who realized the gravity of the crisis — besieged the
closed doors behind which Governor and Com-

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 55
mander and justices of the peace were in council.
All night they waited, watchful, silent: at three in
the morning, it was announced that Captain Preston
had surrendered himself and was committed to
prison ; then, and not till then, Boston went to bed.
The rest of the story must be told by John Adams
himself. "The next morning, I think it was, sitting in my
office, near the steps of the town-house stairs, Mr.
Forrest came in, who was then called the Irish In
fant. I had some acquaintance with him. With
tears streaming from his eyes, he said, 'I am come
with a very solemn message from a very unfortu
nate man. Captain Preston, in prison. He wishes
for counsel, and can get none. I have waited on
Mr. Quincy, who says he will engage, if you will
give him your assistance; without it, he positively
will not. Even Mr. Auchmuty declines, unless you
will engage.' I had no hesitation in answering that
counsel ought to be the very last thing that an ac
cused person should want in a free country ; that the
bar ought, in my opinion, to be independent and im
partial, at aU times and in every circumstance, and
that persons whose lives were at stake ought to have
the counsel they preferred. But he must be sensi
ble this would be as important a cause as was ever

56 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
tried in any court or country of the world ; and that
every lawyer must hold himself responsible not only
to his country, but to the highest and most infallible
of all tribunals, for the part he should act. He
must, therefore, expect from me no art or address,
no sophistry or prevarication, in such a cause, nor
any thing more than fact, evidence, and law would
justify. 'Captain Preston,' he said, 'requested and
desired no more; and that he had such an opinion
from all he had heard from all parties of me, that
he could cheerfully trust his life with me upon those
principles.' 'And,' said Forrest, 'as God Almighty
is my judge, I believe him an innocent man.' I re
plied, 'That must be ascertained by his trial, and if
he thinks he cannot have a fair trial of that issue
without my assistance, without hesitation, he shall
have it.'
"Upon this, Forrest offered me a single guinea as
a retaining fee, and I readily accepted it. From first
to last I never said a word about fees, in any of those
cases, and I should have said nothing about them
here, if calumnies and insinuations had not been
propagated that I was tempted by great fees and
enormous sums of money. Before or after the trial,
Preston sent me ten guineas, and at the trial of the
soldiers afterwards, eight guineas more, which were

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 57
all the fees I ever received or were offered to me,
and I should not have said anything on the subject
to my clients if they had never offered me anything.
This was all the pecuniary reward I ever had for
fourteen or fifteen days' labor in the most exhaust
ing and fatiguing causes I ever tried, for hazarding
a popularity very general and very hardly earned,
and for incurring a clamor, popular suspicions and
prejudices, which are not yet worn out, and never
will be forgotten as long as the history of this period
is read. "It was immediately bruited abroad that I had en
gaged for Preston and the soldiers, and occasioned
a great clamor, which the friends of the government
delighted to hear, and slily and secretly fomented
with aU their art."
Their arts were of little avail. While the trial
(which lasted through a whole term) was stiU in
progress, an election came on for a representative
of Boston, in the town meeting, and the people,
eager to show their confidence in John Adams,
elected him by a large majority.
"I had never been at a Boston town meeting, and
was not at this, until messengers were sent to me
to inform me that I was chosen. I went down to
Faneuil HaU, and in a few words expressive of my

58 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
sense of the difficulty and danger of the times, of the
importance of the trust, and of my own insufficiency
to fulfill the expectations of the people, I accepted
the choice. Many congratulations were offered,
which I received civilly, but they gave no joy to me.
I considered the step as a devotion of my family to
ruin, and myself to death; for I could scarce per
ceive a possibility that I should ever go through the
thorns and leap all the precipices before me and es
cape with my life.
"At this time I had more business at the bar than
any man in the Province. My health was feeble. I
was throwing away as bright prospects as any man
ever had before him, and I had devoted myself to
endless labor and anxiety, if not to infamy and to
death, and that for nothing, except what indeed was
and ought to be all in all, a sense of duty. In the
evening, I expressed to Mrs. Adams all my appre
hensions. That excellent lady, who has always en
couraged me, burst into a flood of tears, but said
she was very sensible of all the danger to her and to
our children, as well as to me, but she thought I
had done as I ought ; she was very wilUng to share
in all that was to come, and to place her trust in
Providence." These apprehensions were unfounded. Thanks

THE BOSTON MASSACRE 59
to Adams' eloquence, Preston was acquitted, and
so great was the public confidence in his advocate
that not a murmur of dissent was heard, nor was his
popularity in any degree lessened.
John Adams seldom condescends to anecdote, but
he does tell us of "a labored controversy, between
the House and the Govemor, concerning these
words: 'In General Court assembled, and by the
authority of the same.' I mention this merely on
account of an anecdote, which the friends of gov
ernment circulated with diligence, of Governor
Shirley, who then lived in retirement at his seat in
Roxbury. Having read this dispute, in the public
prints, he asked, 'Who has revived those old words ?
They were expunged during my administration.'
He was answered, 'The Boston seat.' 'And who are
the Boston seat ?' 'Mr. Cushing, Mr. Hancock, Mr.
Samuel Adams, and Mr. John Adams.' 'Mr. Cush
ing I knew, and Mr. Hancock I knew,' replied the
old Governor, 'but where the devil this brace of
Adamses came from, I know not' This was archly
circulated by the ministerialists, to impress the peo
ple with the obscurity of the original of the par
nobile fratrum, as the friends of the country used
to call us, by way of retaliation."

CHAPTER IV
THE BOSTON TEA PARTY
EVEN though it has little to say about his domes
tic life, I linger over John Adams' diary. It is
enthralling reading; most of it belongs rather to his
tory than to a slight record like this, yet here and
there we get pleasant glimpses of the man himself.
Here he is on circuit, riding through Maine, which
was then Massachusetts.
"Began my journey to Falmouth in Casco Bay.
. . . Dined at Goodhue's, in Salem, where I fell in
company with a stranger, his name I knew not. . . .
One year more, he said, would make Americans as
quiet as lambs; they could not do without Great
Britain, they could not conquer their luxury, etc.
Oated my horse, and drank balm tea at TreadweU's
in Ipswich, where I found Brother Porter, and
chatted with him half an hour, then rode to Rowley
and lodged at Captain Jewett's. Jewett 'had rathei
the House should sit all the year round, than give up
60

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 6i
an atom of right or privilege. The Govemor can't
frighten the people with, etc' . . .
"Sunday. Took a walk to the pasture to see how
my horse fared. My little mare had provided for
herself, by leaping out of a bare pasture into a
neighboring lot of mowing-ground, and had filled
herself with grass and water. These are important
materials for history, no doubt. My biographer will
scarcely introduce my little mare and her adventures
in quest of food and water. The children of the
house have got a young crow, a sight I never saw
before; — the head and bill are monstrous; the legs
and claws are long and sprawling. But the young
crow and the little mare are objects that will not
interest posterity."
I do not agree with you, John. I like to think of
you watching the little mare at her stolen breakfast,
gravely observing the young crow; later, with a
whimsical smile curling the corners of your firm
mouth, entering the observations in your diary.
The climate of Boston did not suit Mr. Adams :
he longed for his native air df Braintree.
"The compUcated cares of my legal and political
engagements, the slender diet to which I was obliged
to confine myself, the air of the town of Boston,
which was not favorable to me, who had been born

62 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and passed almost all my life in the country, but
especially the constant obligation to speak in public,
almost every day for many hours, had exhausted my
health, brought on a pain in my breast, and a com
plaint in my lungs, which seriously threatened my
life, and compelled me to throw off a great part of
the load of business, both public and private, and
return to my farm in the country. Early in the
Spring of 1771, I removed my family to Braintree,
still holding, however, an office in Boston. The air
of my native spot, and the fine breezes from the
sea on one side, and the rocky mountains of pine
and savin on the other, together with daily rides on
horseback and the amusements of agriculture, al
ways delightful to me, soon restored my health in a
considerable degree."
Yet still he wondered why he was not stronger.
Turning the pages of the diary, we feel no such
surprise. He simply overworked himself, continu
ously and relentlessly. "Now my family is awa)^
I feel no inclination at all, no temptation, to be any
where but at my office. I am in it by six in the
morning, I am in it at nine at night, and I spend
but a small space of time in running down to my
brother's to breakfast, dinner and tea."

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 63
"Returned at night ... to Braintree, — still,
calm, happy Braintree — at nine o'clock at night."
This was no way to live, John, for any length of
time. Small wonder that in November, 1772, he
once more moved into Boston, having purchased a
house in Queen Street, "where I hope I shall live
as long as I have any connection with Boston."
How Abigail liked this "to-ing and fro-ing," we
do not know. She is silent, and John has little to
say about her. Now and then we find an entry Uke
this : "My wife says her father never inculcated any
maxim of behavior upon his children so often as
this, — never to speak Ul of anybody; to say all the
handsome things she could of persons, but no evil;
and to make things, rather than persons, the subjects
of conversation. These rules he always impressed
upon us, whenever we were going abroad, if it was
but to spend an afternoon. He was always remark
able for observing these rules in his own conversa
tion." This gives us a pleasant glimpse of good
Parson Smith.
Now and then, too, we read of a drive or
walk or tea-drinking "with my wife" ; but that is
all. As a rule, John felt no more need of mention
ing her, than the air he breathed, or the food that
nourished him. She vvas there, and that was enough.

64 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
By and by, however, Abigail began to speak, or
rather to write for herself, and from now on her
letters must be our best guide.
Be it remembered that, in 1767, by the so-called
Townshend Acts, a tax had been levied on glass,
lead, paper, painters' colors, and tea. Three years
later all these taxes had been repealed, except that
on tea, which was retained as the sign and token of
Great Britain's right to tax her colonies when and
how she pleased. This fact, borne in mind, explains
the following letter, written by Mrs. Adams on De
cember 5th, 1773, to her friend, Mercy Warren,
wife of General James Warren of Plymouth and
sister of James Otis :
"Do not, my worthy friend, tax me with either
breach of promise or neglect towards you; the only
reason why I did not write to you immediately upon
your leaving town was my being seized with a fever,
which has confined me almost ever since. I have
not for these many years known so severe a fit of
sickness. I am now, through the favor of Heaven,
so far returned as to be able to leave my chamber
some part of the day. I will not make any other
apology for my past neglect, being fully sensible
that I alone have been the sufferer. My pen, which
I once loved and deUghted in, has for a long time

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 65
been out of credit with me. Could I borrow the
powers and faculties of my much valued friend, I
should then hope to use it with advantage to myself
and delight to others. Incorrect and unpolished as
it is, I will not suffer a mistaken pride so far to lead
me astray as to omit the present opportunity of
improvement. And should I prove a tractable
scholar, you will not find me tardy.
"You, madam, are so sincere a lover of your
country, and so hearty a mourner in all her misfor-
times, that it will greatly aggravate your anxiety to
hear how much she is now oppressed and insulted.
To you, who have so thoroughly looked through the
deeds of men, and developed the dark designs of a
rapacious soul, no action however base or sordid,
no measure, however cruel and viUanous, will be
matter of any surprise.
"The tea, that baneful weed, is arrived. Great
and, I hope, effectual opposition has been made to
the landing of it. To the public papers I must refer
you for particulars. You will there find that the
proceedings of our citizens have been united, spirited
and firm. The flame is kindled, and like lightning
it catches from soul to soul. Great wiU be the de
vastation, if not timely quenched or allayed by some
more lenient measures. Although the mind is

66 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
shocked at the thought of shedding human blood,
more especially the blood of our countrymen, and a
civil war is of all wars the most dreadful, such is
the present spirit' that prevails, that if once they are
made desperate, many, very many of our heroes will
spend their lives in the cause, with the speech of
Cato in their mouths.
"Such is the present situation of affairs, that I
tremble when I think what may be the direful conse
quences, and in this town must the scene of action
Ue. My heart beats at every whistle I hear, and I
dare not express half my fears. Eternal reproach
and ignominy be the portion of aU those who have
been instrumental in bringing these fears upon me.
There has prevailed a report that tomorrow there
will be an attempt to land this weed of slavery. I
will then write further. Till then, my worthy
friend, adieu."
During ten days more, Abigail Adams' heart
was to "beat at every whistle she heard." The pa
triots meant to make no mistakes in this important
matter. They steadfastly refused to receive the tea ;
they used their utmost efforts to induce Governor
Hutchinson to allow its retum. It was not tiU all
had been done that man could do, that the final step
was taken and the tea disposed of. Trevelyan, in

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 67
his history of the American Revolution, says:
"Boston, under circumstances which have been too
frequently described to admit of their ever again
being related in detail, gratified the curiosity of an
energetic patriot who expressed a wish to see
whether tea could be made with salt water." It is
the only passage in that admirable work with which
I have a quarrel. Boston born and bred, I cannot
be expected to pass over the Tea Party with a brief
word. I must recall, if only for the sake of that
beating heart of Abigail Adams', that scene on the
night of December i6th: the painted figures stealing
from street and alley and crooked lane to the ren
dezvous at the Old South Church; the war-whoop
ringing out, the rush down Franklin Street to Grif
fin's Wharf; the shouts and laughter, under whicli
lay such deadly earnestness ; the scuffle on the decks,
the splash ! splash ! as chest after chest of best Bohea
and Hyson (to the value of eighteen thousand
pounds) dropped into the icy water, and went "sail
ing so merrily out to sea." How should I not call
up the scene at least thus briefly, when my own
great-grandfather was one of the Mohawks? And
how do we know that little Abigail and John Quincy
Adams were not singing, in the days of turbulent
excitement that followed the Tea Party, songs

68 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
something like the following, though this is of a
somewhat later date:
There was an old lady lived over the sea.
And she was an Island Queen.
Her daughter lived off in a new countrie
With an ocean of water between.
The old lady's pockets were full of gold.
But never contented was she.
So she called on her daughter to pay her a tax
Of three-pence a pound on her tea.
Of three-pence a pound on her tea.
"Now, mother, dear mother," the daughter replied,
"I shan't do the thing you ax.
I'm willing to pay a fair price for the tea,
But never the three-penny tax."
"You shall," quoth the mother, and reddened with rage,
"For you're my own daughter, you see.
And sure 'tis quite proper the daughter should pay
Her mother a tax on her tea,
Her mother a tax on her tea."
And so the old lady her servant called up
And packed off a budget of tea,
And, eager for three-pence a pound, she put in
Enough for a large familee.
She ordered her servant to bring home the tax.
Declaring her child should obey,
Or old as she was, and almost woman grown.
She'd half whip her life away,
She'd half whip her life away.
The tea was conveyed to the daughter's door,
All down by the ocean side.

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 69
And the bouncing girl poured out every pound
In the dark and boiling tide.
And then she called out to the Island Queen,
"Oh ! Mother ! Dear Mother I" quoth she,
"Your tea you may have when 'tis steeped enough,
But never a tax from me.
No, never a tax from me !" *

The diary has little more to say than Trevelyan.
We read "Twenty-eight chests of tea arrived yester
day, which are to make an infusion in water at seven
o'clock this evening." And the next day: "Last
night twenty-eight chests and a half of tea were
drowned." It is clear that Mr. Adams knew what was to be
done; he never knew the names of the doers, stead
fastly refusing to be told. "You may depend upon
it," he says, writing to a friend in 1819, "that they
were no ordinary Mohawks. The profound secrecy
in which they have held their names, and the total
abstinence from plunder, are proofs of the char
acters of the men. I believe they would have tarred
and feathered anyone of their number who should
have been detected in pocketing a pound of Hyson."
The following year, 1774, was a momentous one.
The destruction of the tea had roused George III
and his ministers to frenzy ; they bent all their ener-
' Author unknown.

70 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
gies to punish the rebellious town of Boston. Edict
followed edict. The Five Intolerable Acts, they
were called. This is not the place to name them;
be it merely said that one of them amounted prac
tically to a repeal of the Charter of Massachusetts.
Early in May General Gage arrived, with fuU pow
ers as Civil Governor of the Colony, and as Com
mander-in-Chief for the whole continent, to see that
the edicts were carried out. First came the Boston
Port Bill, which closed the harbor of Massachusetts
and transferred the business of the custom-house to
Salem. On May 26th, 1774, Governor Gage informed the
General Court that its sessions would be held at
Salem from June first tiU further orders. The court
obeyed, met at Salem, under the leadership of
Samuel Adams, and proceeded to make arrange
ments for a general congress at Philadelphia. Gage,
hearing of this, sent a messenger post haste to Salera
to dissolve the meeting. The messenger found the
door locked, nor was it opened till the congress had
been determined upon, and the Massachusetts com
mittee appointed : James Bowdoin, Samuel Adams,
John Adams, Thomas Cushing, Robert Treat Paine.
This was on June 17th, 1774. On the same day, a

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 71
great ineeting was held at Faneuil Hall, with John
Adams as moderator to protest against the iniqui
tous Port BiU.
Jonathan Sewall, John Adams' bosom friend,
was a strong Royalist. On hearing of Adams'
nomination to the projected Congress, he hastened
to protest against his accepting it, with all the elo
quence of which he was master. Every school child
knows the answer by, heart.
"I know," said John Adams, "that Great Britain
has determined on her system, and that very fact
determines me on mine. You know I have been
constant and uniform in opposition to her meas
ures ; the die is now cast ; I have passed the Rubi
con; to swim or sink, live or die, survive or perish
with my country, is my unalterable determination."
Meantime, on June ist, the blockade of Boston
Harbor was proclaimed, and the ruin and starvation
of the city zealously undertaken. "I'll put Boston
seventeen miles from the sea!" Lord North had
vowed, and he was better than his word.
"The law was executed with a rigour that went
beyond the intentions of its authors. Not a scow
could be manned by oars to bring an ox, or a sheep,
or a bundle of hay, from the islands. All water car
riage from pier to pier, though but of lumber, or

72 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
bricks, or kine, was forbidden. The boats that plied
between Boston and Charlestown could not ferry a
parcel of goods across Charles River. The fisher
men of Marblehead, when they bestowed quintals
of dried fish on the poor of Boston, were obliged
to transport their offerings in wagons by a circuit of
thirty miles." ^
The British troops, which had been removed after
the "Massacre," came back into the town, "sore and
surly," ^ and encamped on Boston Common. The
evil days had begun. Small wonder that under such
conditions as these, John Adams' heart was heavy
at leaving his home, even on so high an errand as
that which called him to Philadelphia.
A month before this, he was writing to his wife
the first of the famous Familiar Letters. It is dated
Boston, 12 May, 1774.
"I am extremely affUcted with the relation your
father gave me of the return of your disorder. My
own infirmities, the account of the returji of yours,
and the public news coming all together have put
my utmost philosophy to the trial.
"We live, my dear soul, in an age of trial. What
will be the consequence, I know not. The town of
' "History of the United States of America." Bancroft.
' "The American Revolution." Trevelyan.

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 73
Boston, for aught I can see, must suffer martyrdom.
It must expire. And our principal consolation is,
that it dies in a noble cause — the cause of truth, of
virtue, of liberty, and of humanity, and that it will
probably have a glorious resurrection to greater
wealth, splendor and power, than ever.
"Let me know what is best for us to do. It is ex
pensive keeping a family here, and there is no pros
pect of any business in my way in this town this
whole summer. I don't receive a shilling a week.
We must contrive as many ways as we can to save
expenses ; for we may have calls to contribute very
largely, in proportion to our circumstances, to pre
vent other very honest worthy people from suffer
ing' for want, besides our own loss in point of busi
ness and profit.
"Don't imagine from all this that I am in the
dumps. Far otherwise. I can truly say that I have
felt more spirits and activity since the arrival of this
news than I had done before for years. I look upon
this as the last effort of Lord North's despair, and
he will as surely be defeated in it, as he was in the
project of the tea.
"I am, with great anxiety for your health,
"Your John Adams."

74 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Abigail was probably visiting in the country at
this time; but shortly after, John moved his family
once more to Braintree, "to prepare myself as well
as I could for the storm that was coming on." He
rode his circuit as usual, but for the last time. His
letters are full of foreboding; full also of courage,
and resolve to meet whatever fate held in store.
"Let us, therefore, my dear partner, from that
affection which we feel for our lovely babes, apply
ourselves, by every way we can, to the cultivation
of our farm. Let frugality and industry be our vir
tues, if they are not of any others. And above all
cares of this life, let our ardent anxiety be to mould
the minds and manners of our children. Let us
teach them not only to do virtuously, but to excel.
To excel, they must be taught to be steady, active,
and industrious."
He is not too anxious to give his usual keen at
tention to all he sees and hears. From York he
writes :
"This town of York is a curiosity, in several
views. The people here are great idolaters of the
memory of their former minister, Mr. Moody. Dr.
Sayward says, and the rest of them generally think,
that Mr. Moody was one of the greatest men and
best saints who have lived since the days of the

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 75
Apostles. He had an ascendency and authority over
the people here, as absolute as that of any prince
in Europe, not excepting his Holiness.
"This he acquired by a variety of means. In the
first place, he settled in the place without any con
tract. His professed principle was that no man
should be hired to preach the gospel, but that the
minister should depend upon the charity, generosity,
and benevolence of the people. This was very flat-
Jeering to their pride, and left room for their ambi
tion to display itself in an emulation among them
vvhich should be most bountiful and ministerial.
"In the next place, he acquired the character of
firm trust in Providence. A number of gentlemen
came in one day, when they had nothing in the
house. His wife was very anxious, they say, and
asked him what they should do. 'Oh, never fear;
trust Providence, make a fire in the oven, and you
will have something.' Very soon a variety of every
thing that was good was sent in, and by one o'clock
they had a splendid dinner.
"He had also the reputation of enjoying intimate
communication with the Deity, and of having a
great interest in the Court of Heaven by his pray
ers. "He always kept his musket in order, and was

76 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
fond of hunting. On a time, they say, he was out
of provisions. There came along two wild geese.
He takes gun and cries, 'If it please God I kill both,
I will send the fattest to the poorest person in this
parish.' He shot, and killed both; ordered them
plucked, and then sent the fattest to a poor widow,
leaving the other, which was a very poor one, at
home, — to the great mortification of his lady. But
his maxim was. Perform unto the Lord thy vow.
"But the best story I have heard yet was his doc
trine in a sermon from this text, 'Lord, what shall
we do?' The doctrine was that when a person or
people are in a state of perplexity, and know not
what to do, they ought never to do they know not
what. This is applicable to the times."
On August IOth, Mr. Adams, with the other com-'
missioners, took coach and started from Boston for
Philadelphia, escorted by enthusiastic crowds. From
this time, the Letters tell the story as nothing else
can. I therefore quote from them with only such
comment as may be necessary.
"The particulars of our journey I must reserve,
to be communicated after my return. It would
take a volume to describe the whole. It has been
upon the whole an agreeable jaunt. We have had
opportunities to see the world and to form acquaint-

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY -jy
ances with the most eminent and famous men in
the several colonies we have passed through. We
have been treated with unbounded civility, com
plaisance, and respect. We yesterday visited Nas
sau Hall College, and were politely treated by the
scholars, tutors, professors, and president, whom we
are this day to hear preach. Tomorrow we reach
the theatre of action. God Almighty grant us wis
dom and virtue sufficient for the high trust that is
devolved upon us. The spirit of the people, where-
ever we have been, seems to be very favorable. They
universally consider our cause as their own, and ex
press the firmest resolution to abide by the determi
nation of the Congress.
"I am anxious for our perplexed, distressed prov
ince ; hope they wiU be directed into the right path.
Let me entreat you, my dear, to make yourself as
easy and quiet as possible. Resignation to the will
of Heaven is our only resource in such dangerous
times. Prudence and caution should be our guides.
I have the strongest hopes that we shall yet see a
clearer sky and better times.
"Remember my tender love to little Abby; teU
her she must write me a letter and inclose it in the
next you send. I am charmed with your amuse
ment with our little Johnny. Tell him I am glad to.

78 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
hear he is so good a boy as to read to his mamma
for her entertainment, and to keep himself out of
the company of rude children. Tell him I hope to
hear a good account of his accidence and nomencla
ture when I return. . . .
"The education of our children is never out of
my mind. Train tliem to virtue. Habituate them
to industry, activity, and spirit. Make them con
sider every vice as shameful and unmanly. Fire
them with ambition to be useful. Make them disdain
to be destitute of any useful or ornamental knowl
edge or accomplishment. Fix their ambition upon
great and solid objects, and their contempt upon
little, frivolous, and useless ones. It is time, my
dear, for you to begin to teach them French. Every
decency, grace, and honesty should be inculcated
upon them. . . ."
Abigail Adams to John Adams.
"I own I feel not a little agitated with the ac
counts I have this day received from town; great
commotions have arisen in consequence of a dis
covery of a traitorous plot of Colonel Brattle's, — his
advice to Gage to break every commissioned officer
and to seize the province's and town's stock of gun
powder. . . .

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 79
"I should be glad to know how you found the
people as you traveled from town to town. I hear
you met with great hospitality and kindness in Con
necticut. Pray let me know how your health is, and
whether you have not had exceeding hot weather.
The drought has been very severe. My poor cows
will certainly prefer a petition to you, setting forth
their grievances and informing you that they have
been deprived of their ancient privileges, whereby
they are become great sufferers, and desiring that
they may be restored to them. More especially as
their living, by reason of the drought, is all taken
from them, and their property which they hold else
where is decaying, they humbly pray that you would
consider them, lest hunger should break through
stone walls.
"The tenderest regard evermore awaits you from
your most affectionate
"Abigail Adams."
"Braintree, 14 September, 1774.
"Five weeks have passed and not one line have I
received. I would rather give a dollar for a letter
by the post, though the consequence should be that
I ate but one meal a day these three weeks to
come. . . .

8o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"We are aU well here. I think I enjoy better
health than I have done these two years. I have not
been to town since I parted with you there. The
Governor is making all kinds of warlike prepara
tions, such as mounting cannon upon Beacon Hill,
digging intrenchments upon the. Neck, placing can
non there, encamping a regiment there, throwing up
breast-works, etc. The people are much alarmed,
and the selectmen have waited upon him in conse
quence of it. The County Congress have also sent
a committee ; all which proceedings you will have a
more particular account of than I am able to give
you, from the public papers. But as to the move
ments of this town, perhaps you may not hear them
from any other person.
"In consequence of the powder being taken from
Charlestown, a general alarm spread through many
towns and was caught pretty soon here. The report
took here on Friday, and on Sunday a soldier was
seen lurking about the Common, supposed to be a
spy, but most likely a deserter. Hovvever, intelli
gence of it was communicated to the other parishes,
and about eight o'clock Sunday evening there passed
by here about two hundred men, preceded by a
horsecart, and marched down to the powder-house,
from whence they took the powder, and carried it

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 8i
into the other parish and there secreted it. I opened
the window upon their return. They passed without
any noise, not a word among them till they came
against this house, when some of them, perceiving
me, asked me if I wanted any powder. I replied,
no, since it was in so good hands. The reason they
gave for taking it was that we had so many Tories
here, they dared not trust us with it. . . . This
town appears as high as you can well imagine, and,
if necessary, would soon be in arms. Not a Tory
but hides his head. The church parson thought they
were coming after him, and ran up garret ; they say
another jumped out of his window and hid among
the corn, whilst a third crept under his board fence
and told his beads."
"The church parson" was probably the Rev. An
thony Wibird, of whom Mrs. Adams said, when on
Fast Day, 1775, she drove to Dedham to church,
that she did so because she "could not bear to hear
our inanimate old bachelor." AJew-days after the
burning of Falmouth she wrote, "I could not join
today in the petition of our worthy pastor for a
reconciliation between our no longer parent, but
tyrant state and these colonies. Let us separate.
They are not worthy to be our brethren. Let us
renounce them, and instead of supplications, as for-

82 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
merly, for their prosperity and happiness, let us be
seech the Almighty to blast their counsels and bring
to naught all their devices." "i6 September.
"I have always thought it of very great impor
tance that children should, in the early part of life,
be unaccustomed to such examples as would tend to
corrupt the purity of their words and actions, that
they may chill with horror at the sound of an oath,
and blush with indignation at an obscene expres
sion. These first principles, which grow with their
growth, and strengthen with their strength, neither
time nor custom can totally eradicate."
John Adams to Abigail Adams.
"Philadelphia, 20 September, 1774.
"I am anxious to know how you can live without
Government. But the experiment must be tried.
The evils will not be found so dreadful as you ap
prehend them. Frugality, my dear, frugality, econ
omy, parsimony, must be our refuge. I hope the
ladies are every day diminishing their ornaments,
and the gentlemen, too. Let us eat potatoes and
drink water; let us wear canvas, and undressed
sheepskins, rather than submit to the unrighteous
and ignominious domination that is prepared for us.

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 83
"Tell Brackett I shaU make him leave off drink
ing rum. We can't let him fight yet. My love to
my dear ones. "Adieu."
A few days after this, Abigail writes, dating her
letter "Boston Garrison, 24 September, 1774."
"I have just returned from a visit to my brother,
with my father, who carried me there the day before
yesterday, and called here in my return, to see this
much injured town. I view it with much the same
sensations that I should the body of a departed
friend — having only put off its present glory for
to rise finally to a more happy state. I will not
despair, but will believe that, our cause being good,
we shall finally prevail. The maxim 'In time of
peace prepare for war' (if this may be caUed a time
of peace) resounds throughout the country. Next
Tuesday they are warned at Braintree, all above fif
teen and under sixty, to attend with their arms ; and
to train once a fortnight from that time is a scheme
which lies much at heart with many. . . .
"I left all pur little ones well, and shall return to
them tonight. I hope to hear from you by the re
turn of the bearer of this, and by Revere. I long
for the day of your return, yet look upon you as

&4 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
much safer where you are — but I know it will not
do for you. Not one action has been brought to this
court; no business of any sort in your way. All law
ceases and the gospel will soon foUow, for they are
supporters of each other. Adieu."
In another letter she says : "All your family, too
numerous to name, desire to be remembered. You
will receive letters from two who are as earnest to
write to papa as if the welfare of a kingdom de
pended upon it."
These two were little Abby and Johnny, who were
missing their father sadly. One of John's letters
reads thus:
"Sir — I have been trying ever since you went
away to learn to write you a letter. I shall make
poor work of it; but, sir, mamma says you will ac
cept my endeavors, and that my duty to you may be
expressed in poor writing as well as good. I hope
I grow a better boy, and that you will have no
occasion to be ashamed of me when you return. Mr.
Thaxter says I learn my books well. He is a very
good master. I read my books to mamma. We all
long to see you. I am, sir, your dutiful son,
"John Quincy Adams."

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 85
It is pleasant to think of the little seven-year-old
boy bending over his paper, laboriously composing
this letter. He must have been a pretty boy, with
his firm, clear-cut features. His dress was his fath
er's in little, flapped waistcoat, knee breeches,
buckled shoes, coat with cuffs and buttons and all
the rest of it. I trust Mother Adams was too sen
sible to put him in a wig, but I do not know ; most
sons of weU-to-do people wore wigs at that time.
William Freeman was seven, just Johnny Adams'
age, when his father paid nine pounds for a wig
for him. Wigged or not, Johnny Adams knew how
to write a letter. I wonder how many boys of seven
could equal it today!
I cannot resist quoting another letter of Master
Johnny's, written two years later.
"Braintree, June 2d, 1777.
"Dear Sir:
"I love to receive letters very well; much better
than I love to write them. I make but a poor figure
at composition. My head is much too fickle. My
thoughts are running after birds' eggs, play and
trifles, till I get vexed with myself. Mamma has
a troublesome task to keep me a-studying. I own I
am ashamed of myself. I have but just entered
the third volume of RoUin's Ancient History, but

86 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
designed to have got half through it by this time.
I am determined this week to be more diligent. . . .
I have set myself a stint this week, to read the third
volume half out. Ifl can but keep my resolution, I
may again at the end of the week give a better ac
count of myself. I wish, sir, you would give me
in writing, some instructions with regard to the use
of my time, and advise me how to proportion my
studies and play, and I will keep them by me, and
endeavor to foUow them. With the present deter
mination of growing better, I am, dear sir, your son
"John Quincy Adams."
"P. S. If you will be so good as to favor me
with a blank book, I \yill transcribe the most remark
able passages I meet with in my reading, which will
serve to fix them upon my mind."
Johnny's taste in poetry was less mature. Writ
ing in later years of these times, he says : "With
these books (a copy of Shakespeare) in a closet of
my mother's bedchamber, there was, (in 1778) also
a small edition in two volumes of Milton's Paradise
Lost, which I believe I attempted ten times to read,
and never got through half a book. I might as well
have attempted to read Homer before I had learned
the Greek alphabet. I was mortified even to the

THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 87
shedding of solitary tears, that I could not even
conceive what it was that my father and mother ad
mired so much in that book, and yet I was ashamed
to ask them an explanation. I smoked tobacco and
read Milton at the same time, and from the same
motive, — to find out what was the recondite charm
in them which gave my father so much pleasure.
After making myself four or five times sick with
smoking, I mastered that accomplishment, and ac
quired a habit which, thirty years afterward, I had
more difficulty in breaking off. But I did not master
Milton. I was nearly thirty when I first read the
Paradise Lost with deUght and astonishment."

CHAPTER V
AFTER LEXINGTON
ON October 28th, Mr. Adams set out on his
return homeward. The Diary reads :
"Took our departure, in a very great rain, from
the happy, the peaceful, the elegant, the hospitable,
and polite city of Philadelphia. It is not very likely
that I shall ever see this part of the world again,
but I shaU ever retain a most grateful, pleasing
sense of the many civilities I have received in it, and
shall think myself happy to have an opportunity of
returning them."
John Adams was to see a good deal more of Phil
adelphia; but he spent this winter of 1774-5 at home
with Portia and the four children, happily, so far as
home life went, but beset by anxieties and tasks.
He was immediately elected into the Provincial Con
gress; besides this, he was writing weekly letters,
signed "Novanglus," for the Boston Gazette, impor
tant letters answering those of "Massachusettensis"
in Draper's paper, which "were conducted with a
88

AFTER LEXINGTON 89
subtlety of art and address wonderfully calculated
to keep up the spirits of their party, to depress ours,
to spread intimidation, and to make proselytes
among those whose principles and judgment give
way to their fears ; and these compose at least one-
third of mankind." Mr. Adams notes soberly that
"in New England, they [his own letters] had the
effect of an antidote to the poison of Massachuset
tensis, and," he adds, "the battle of Lexington, on
the 19th of April, changed the instruments of war
fare from the pen to the sword."
Abigail, naturally, has nothing to say about Lex
ington and Concord; how should she? Her John
was at home with her, and she kept no diary. But
John might have given us a word about Paul Revere
and the rising of the countryside, about the gather
ing of the minute-men on that green over which "the
smoke of the battle still seems to hang" : might have
mentioned at least that toy pistol of Major Pitcairn's
— a pretty thing, gold and mother-of-pearl, given
him by admiring friends — ^which we are told fired
the actual first shot of the Revolution, provoking
that other which was "heard round the world" : he
might have told — as his son, long years after when
he was President of the United States, loved to tell —
how, the day after the battle, the minute-men came.

90 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and took Mrs. Adams' pewter spoons to melt them
into buUets : but no !
"A few days after this event," he says, "I rode
to Cambridge, where I saw General Ward, General
Heath, General Joseph Warren, and the New Eng
land army. There was great confusion and much
distress. Artillery, arms, clothing were wanting, and
a sufficient supply of provisions not easily obtained.
Neither the officers nor men, however, wanted
spirits or resolution. I rode from thence to Lexing
ton, and along the scene of action for many miles,
and inquired of the inhabitants the circumstances.
These were not calculated to diminish my ardor in
the cause; they, on the contrary, convinced me that
the die was cast, the Rubicon passed, and, as Lord
Mansfield expressed it in Parliament, if we did not
defend ourselves, they would kill us. On my re
turn home, I was seized with a fever, attended with
alarming symptoms; but the time was come to re
pair to Philadelphia to Congress, which was to meet
on the fifth of May. I was determined to go as far
as I could, and instead of venturing on horseback,
as I had intended, I got into a sulky, attended by
a servant on horseback, and proceeded on the jour
ney." This was an anxious journey for Mr. Adams,

AFTER LEXINGTON 91
knowing as he did, that he was leaving his beloved
family exposed to many and grave dangers. Par
liament had, in February, 1775, declared the Colony
of Massachusetts to be in a state of rebellion, and
things went from bad to worse in Boston. The fol
lowing letter gives the fuU measure of his anxiety :
"Mr. EUot, of Fairfield, is this moment arrived,
on his way to Boston. He read us a letter from the
Dr., his father, dated yesterday sennight, being Sun
day. The Dr.'s description of the melancholy of
the town is enough to melt a stone. The trials of
that unhappy and devoted people are likely to be
severe indeed. God grant that the furnace of af
fliction may refine them. God grant that they may
be relieved from their present distress.
"It is arrogance and presumption, in human saga
city, to pretend to penetrate far into the designs of
Heaven. The most perfect reverence and resigna
tion becomes us, but I cannot help depending upon
this, that the present dreadful calamity of that be
loved town is intended to bind the colonies to
gether in more indissoluble bonds, and to animate
their exertions at this great crisis in the affairs of
mankind. It has this effect in a most remarkable
degree, as far as I have yet seen or heard. It will

92 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
plead with all America with more irresistible per
suasion than angels trumpet-tongued.
"In a cause which interests the whole globe, at
a time when my friends and country are in such
keen distress, I am scarcely ever interrupted in the
least degree by apprehensions for my personal
safety. I am often concerned for you and our dear
babes, surrounded, as you are, by people who are
too timorous and too much susceptible of alarms.
Many fears and jealousies and imaginary dangers
will be suggested to you, but I hope you will not
be impressed by them. In case of real danger, of
which you cannot "fail to have previous intimations,
fly to the woods with our children. Give my ten
derest love to them, and to all."
"Fly to the woods with our children"! The
words tell only too plainly how terrible was the
danger the writer apprehended. The woods were
— or at any moment might be — full of prowling
savages, from whom no mercy could be expected;
yet John Adams would choose to run this risk
rather than others that threatened, or seemed to
threaten, his dear ones. One feels through all the
years the thrill of his anxiety.
"For the space of twelve months," says John
Quincy Adams, "my mother with her infant chil-

AFTER LEXINGTON 93
dren dwelt Uable every hour of the day and night
to be butchered in cold blood or taken into Boston
as hostages by any foraging or marauding detach
ment of men like that actually sent forth on the
19th of April to capture John Hancock and Sam
uel Adams, on their way to attend the Continental
Congress at Philadelphia. My father was separated
¦from his family on his way to attend the same con
gress, and then my mother and her children Uved
in unintermitted danger of being consumed with
them all in a conflagration kindled by a torch in
the same hands which on the 17th of June lighted
the fires of Charlestown."
Abigail, in Braintree, no longer "calm and
happy," laments over the sufferings of her friends
and former neighbors. "5 May, 1775.
"The distresses of the inhabitants of Boston are
beyond the power of language to describe; there
are but very few who are permitted to come out
in a day ; they delay giving passes, make them wait
from hour to hour, and their counsels are not two
hours alike. One day, they shall come out with
their effects; the next day, merchandise is not ef
fects. One day, their household 'furniture is to

94 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
corrie^'out -^ the next, only wearing' apparel; the next,
Pharaoh's heart is hardened, and he refuseth to
hearken to them, and will not let the people go.
May their deliverance be wrought out for them, as
it was for the children of Israel. I do not mean
by miracles, but by the interposition of Heaven in
their favor. They have taken a list of all those
who they suppose were concerned in watching the
tea, and every other person whom they call ob
noxious, and they and their effects are to suffer de
struction. "Yours, Portia."
"24 May, 1775.
"I suppose you have had a formidable account
of the alarm we had last Sunday morning. When
I rose, about six o'clock, I was told that the drums
had been some time beating, and that three alarm
guns were fired ; that Weymouth bell had been ring
ing, and Mr. Weld's was then ringing. I imme
diately sent off an express to know the occasion,
and found the whole town in confusion. Three
sloops and one cutter had come out and dropped
anchor just below Great Hill. It was difficult to
teU their designs ; some supposed they were coming
to Germantown, others to Weymouth; people.

AFTER: LEXINGTON 95
jwomen", children," from" tfle'iforf'works, came flock
ing down this way; every woman and child driven
off from below my father's ; my father's family fly
ing. The Dr. is in great distress, as you may well
imagine, for my aunt had her bed thrown into a
cart, into which she got herself, and ordered the boy
to drive her to Bridgewater, which he did. The re
port was to them that three hundred British had
landed, and were upon their march up into town.
The alarm flew like lightning, and men from all
parts came flocking down, till two thousand were
collected. But it seems their expedition was to Grape
Island for Levett's hay. There it was impossible to
reach them for want of boats; but the sight of so
many people, and the firing at them, prevented their
getting more than three tons df hay, though they
had carted much more down to the water. At last a
lighter was mustered, and a sloop from Hingham,
which had six port-holes. Our men eagerly jumped
on board, and put off for the Island. As soon as
they perceived it, they decamped. Our people land
ed upon the island, and in an instant set fire to the
hay, which, with the barn, was soon consumed, —
about eighty tons, it is said. We expect soon to be
in continual alarms, till something decisive takes
place. . . . Our house has been, upon this alarm,

96 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
in the same scene of confusion that it was upon the
former. Soldiers coming in for a lodging, for
breakfast, for supper, for drink, etc. Sometimes
refugees from Boston, tired and fatigued, seek an
asylum for a day, a night, a week. You can hardly
imagine how we live ; yet, —
To the houseless child of want.
Our doors are open still;
And though our portions are but scant.
We give them with good will.
"My best wishes attend you, both for your health
and happiness, and that you may be directed into the
wisest and best measures for our safety and the
security of our posterity. I wish you were nearer
to us ; we know not what a day will bring forth, nor
what distress one hour may throw us into. Hither
to, I have been able to maintain a calmness and
presence of mind, and hope I shall, let the exigency
of the time be what it wiU. . . ."
"Weymouth, 15 June, 1775.
"I sat down to write to you on Monday, but
really could not compose myself sufficiently; the
anxiety I suffered from not hearing one syllable
from you for more than five weeks, and the new
distress arising from the arrival of recruits, agi-

AFTER LEXINGTON 97
tated me more than I have been since the never-
to-be-forgotten 14th of April. I have been much
revived by receiving two letters from you last
night. ...
"We cannot but consider the great distance you
are from us as a very great misfortune, when our-
critical situation renders it necessary to hear from
you every week, and will be more and more so, as
difficulties arise. We now expect our seacoast rav
aged; perhaps the very next letter I write will in
form you that I am driven away from our yet quiet
cottage. Necessity will oblige Gage to take some
desperate steps. We are told for truth that he is
now eight thousand strong. We live in continual
expectations df alarms. Courage I know we have
in abundance; conduct I hope we shall not want;
but powder, — where shall we get a sufficient supply ?
I wish we may not fail there. Every town is filled
with the distressed inhabitants of Boston. Our
house ^ among others is deserted, and by this time,
like enough, made use of as a barrack. . . .
"I have a request to make of you; something like
the barrel of sand, I suppose you will think it, but
really of much more importance to me. It is, that
you would send out Mr. Bass, and purchase me a
' I. e., their house in Boston.

98 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
bundle of pins and put them in your trunk for me.
The cry for pins is so great that what I used to buy
for seven shillings and sixpence are now twenty
shillings, and not to be had for that. A bundle
contains six thousand, for which I used to give a
dollar; but if you can procure them for fifty shil
lings, or three pounds (ten dollars), pray let me
have them.
"I am, with the tenderest regard, "Your Portia."
On June 17th, John Adams writes:
"I can now inform you that the Congress have
made choice of the modest and virtuous, the amia
ble, generous and brave George Washington, Es
quire, to be General of the American army, and
that he is to repair, as soon as possible, to the camp
before Boston. This announcement will have a
great effect in cementing and securing the union of
these colonies. The continent is really in earnest,
in defending the country. They have voted ten
companies of riflemen to be sent from Pennsylvania,
Maryland and Virginia, to join the army before
Boston. These are an excellent species of light in
fantry. They use a peculiar kind of musket, caUed
a rifle. It has circular or — (word effaced in manu
script) grooves within the barrel, and carries a ball

AFTER LEXINGTON 99
with great exactness to great distances. They are
the most accurate marksmen in the world. . . .
"America is a great, unwieldy body. Its pro
gress must be slow. It is Uke a large fleet saiUng
under convoy. The fleetest sailors must wait for
the dullest and slowest. Like a coach and six, the
swiftest horses must be slackened, and the slowest
quickened, that all may keep an even pace. . . ."
Mr. Adams little thought that even while he
wrote, the cannon were roaring on Bunker Hill, and
that on its slopes.
In their ragged regimentals
Stood the old Continentals,
Yielding not.
When the grenadiers were lunging,
And like hail fell the plunging
Cannon-shot.
Abigail Adams heard the cannon, and taking her
seven-year-old Johnny with her, mounted Penn's
Hill, at the foot of which the house stood. Stand
ing there, mother and son saw with terror the smoke
of burning Charlestown, listened with beating hearts
to the beating drums and roaring cannon. The
boy never forgot that hour. Long after he would
tell of it, and of his mother's deep distress on hear
ing of the death of Warren.

IOO ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
The news of Bunker Hill reached Philadelphia
on June 22d : on the 27th, John Adams writes :
"This moment received two letters from you.
Courage, my dear. We shall be supported in life
or comforted in death. I rejoice that my country
men behaved so bravely, though not so skilfully
conducted as I could wish. I hope this defeat will
be remedied by the new modeling of the army.
"My love everywhere."
This brief letter crossed one from Abigail, dated
June 25th.
"I hear that General Howe said that the battle
upon the Plains of Abram was but a bauble to this.
When we consider all the circumstances attending
this action, we stand astonished that our people were
not all cut off. They had but one hundred feet in
trenched, the number who were engaged did not ex
ceed eight hundred, and they with not half ammu
nition enough; the reinforcement not able to get
to them seasonably. The tide was up, and high, so
that their floating batteries came upon each side of
the causeway, and their row-galleys kept a con
tinual fire. Added to this, the fire from Copp's Hill,
and from the ships ; the town in flames, aU around
them, and the heat from the flames so intense as
scarcely to be borne ; the day one of the hottest we

AFTER LEXINGTON loi
have had this season, and the wind blowing the
smoke in their faces, — only figure to yourself all
these circumstances, and then consider that we do
not count sixty men lost. My heart overflows at
the recollection.
"We Uve in continual expectation of hostilities.
Scarcely a day that does not produce some ; but, like
good Nehemiah, having made our prayer unto God,
and set the people with their swords, their spears,
and their bows, we will say unto them, 'Be ye not
afraid of them; remember the Lord, who is great
and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons,
and your daughters, your wives and your houses.'
"I have just received yours of the 17th of June,
in seven days only; every line from that far coun
try is precious. . . . O North, may the groans and
cries of the injured and oppressed harrow up thy
soul!" While she wrote, Washington was on the march.
He reached Watertown on July 2d, and on the 3d,
standing under the tree which still (191 7) marks
the spot, he took command of the Continental Army.
On July 5th, she writes :
"I should have been more particular, but I
thought you knew everything that passed here. The
present state of the inhabitants of Boston is that

102 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
of the most abject slaves, under the most cruel and
despotic tyrants. Among many instances I could
mention, let me relate one. Upon the 17th of June,
printed handbills were posted up at the corners of
the streets, and upon houses, forbidding any inhabi
tants to go upon their houses, or upon any emi
nence, on pain of death; the inhabitants dared not
to look out of their houses, nor to be heard or seen
to ask a question. Our prisoners were brought over
to the Long Wharf, and there lay aU night, without
any care of their wounds, or any resting-place but
the pavements, until the next day, when they ex
changed it for the jail, since which we hear they
are civilly treated. Their living cannot be good, as
they can have no fresh provisions; their beef, we
hear, is all gone, and their wounded men die very
fast, so that they have a report that the bullets were
poisoned. Fish they cannot have, they have ren
dered it so difficult to procure; and the admiral is
such a villain as to oblige every fishing schooner to
pay a doUar every time it goes out. The money that
has been paid for passes is incredible. Some have
given ten, twenty, thirty, and forty dollars, to get
out with a small proportion of their things. It is
reported and believed that they have taken up a
number of persons and committed them to jail, we

AFTER LEXINGTON 103
know not for what in particular. Master LoveU is
confined in the dungeon; a son of Mr. Edes is in
jail,, and one Wiburt, a ship-carpenter, is now upon
trial for his life. God alone knows to what length
these wretches will go, and wiU, I hope, restrain
their malice.
"I would not have you distressed about me. Dan
ger, they say, makes people valiant. Hitherto I have
been distressed, but not dismayed. I have felt for
my country and her sons. I have bled with them
and for them. Not all the havoc and devastation
they have made has wounded me like the death df
Warren. We want him in the Senate ; we want him
in his profession; we want him in the field. We
mourn for the citizen, the senator, the physician,
and the warrior. May we have others raised up in
his room. . . .
"I hope we shall not now have famine added to
war. Grain, grain is what we want here. Meat we
have enough, and to spare. Pray don't let Bass for
get my pins. Hardwick has applied to me for Mr.
Bass to get him a hundred of needles, number six,
to carry on his stocking weaving. We shall very
soon have no coffee, nor sugar, nor pepper, here;
but whortleberries and milk we are not obliged to
commerce for.=-> . . Good night. With thought of

104 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
thee do I close my eyes. Angels guard and pro
tect thee; and may a safe return ere long bless thy
"Portia."
¦ Dr. LoveU, who was "confined in the dungeon,"
was the Boston schoolmaster, a worthy man, and a
stout patriot. The story is told that on the morn
ing of the 19th of April, 1775, sitting at his desk
in the schoolroom, he saw Earl Percy march by
with his troops, on the way to Lexington. The
master closed his book.
"War's begun, school's done !" he said. "Deponite
libros." On the 1 6th, Abigail writes again:
"The appointment of the generals Washington
and Lee gives universal satisfaction. The people
have the highest opinion of Lee's abilities, but you
know the continuation of the popular breath de
pends much upon favorable events. I had the pleas
ure of seeing both the generals and their aids-de
camp soon after their arrival, and of being per
sonally made known to them. . . .
"I was struck with General Washington. You
had prepared me to entertain a favorable opinion
of him, but I thought the half was not told me.
Dignity with ease and complacency, the gentleman

AFTER LEXINGTON 105
and the soldier, look agreeably blended in him.
Modesty marks every line and feature of his face.
These lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me: —
Mark his majestic fabric; he's a temple
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;
His soul's the deity that lodges there.
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god.
"General Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran,
and by his appearance brought to my mind his name
sake, Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden. The ele
gance of his pen far exceeds that of his person. . . .
"As to intelligence from Boston, it is but very
seldom we are able to coUect anything that may be
relied on; and to report the vague flying rumors
would be endless. I heard yesterday, by one Mr.
Roulstone, a goldsmith, who got out in a fishing
schooner, that their distress increased upon them
fast. Their beef is aU spent ; their malt and cider
all gone. All the fresh provisions they can procure
they are obliged to give to the sick and wounded.
Thirteen of our men who were in jail, and were
wounded at the battle of Charlestown, were dead.
No man dared now to be seen talking to his friend
in the street. They were obliged to be within,
every evening, at ten o'clock, according to martial

io6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
law; nor could any inhabitants walk any street in
town after that time, without a pass from
Gage. . . .
"Every article in the West India way is very
scarce and dear. In six weeks we shall not be able
to purchase any article of the kind. I wish you
would let Bass get me one pound of pepper and
two yards of black calamanco for shoes. I cannot
wear leather, if I go barefoot. Bass may make a
fine profit if he lays in a stock for himself. You
can hardly imagine how much we want many com
mon small articles which are not manufactured
amongst ourselves; but we will have them in time;
not one pin to be purchased for love or money. I
wish you would convey me a thousand by any
friend traveling this way. It is very provoking
to have such a plenty so near us, but, Tantalus-like,
not to be able to touch. I should have been glad
to have laid in a small stock of the West India ar
ticles, but I cannot get one copper; no person thinks
of paying anything, and I do not choose to run in
debt. I endeavor to live in the most frugal manner
possible, but I am many times distressed."
"This is the 25th of July. Gage has not made
any attempt to march out since the battle of Charles
town. Our army is restless, and wish to be doing

AFTER LEXINGTON 107
something to rid themselves and the land of the
vermin and locusts which infest it. Since I wrote
you last, the companies stationed upon the coast,
both in this town, Weymouth, and Hingham, were
ordered to Nantasket, to reap and bring off the grain,
which they accomplished, all except a field or two
which was not ripe; and having whaleboats, they
undertook to go to the Lighthouse and set fire to it,
which they effected in open day, and in fair sight of
several men-of-war. Upon their return, came down
upon them eight barges, one cutter, and one schoon
er, all in battle-array, and poured whole broadsides
upon them; but our men all reached the shore, and
not one life lost, two only slightly wounded in their
legs. They marched up a hiU, and drew into order
in hopes the marines would land; but they chose
rather to return without a land engagement, though
'tis thought they will burn the town down as soon
as our forces leave it. I had this account from
Captain Vinton, who with his company, were there.
These little skirmishes seem trifling, but they serve
to inure our men, and harden them to danger. I
hear the rebels are very wroth at the destruction
of the Lighthouse.
"There has been an offer from Gage to send the
poor of Boston to Salem, by water, but not com-

io8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
plied with on our part; they returned for answer,
they would receive them upon the lines. Dr. Tufts
saw a letter from Deacon Newall, in which he men
tions the death of John Cotton; he says it is very
sickly in town. Every fishing vessel is now obliged
to enter and clear out, as though she was going
a foreign voyage. No inhabitant is suffered to par
take, but obliged to wait till the army is supplied,
and then, if one [fish] remains, they are allowed
to purchase it. An order has been given out in
town that no person shall be seen to wipe his face
with a white handkerchief. The reason I hear is,
that it is a signal of mutiny. General Burgoyne
lives in Mr. Sam Quincy's house. A lady, who lived
opposite, says she saw raw meat cut and hacked
upon her mahogany tables, and her superb damask
curtains and cushions exposed to the rain, as if they
were of no value. ..."
Up to this time, Mrs. Adams had only the sor
rows of her neighbors to chronicle, but now her
own turn was come. A violent epidemic of dysen
tery broke out in the surrounding country, and
"calm, happy Braintree" was calm no longer. One
after another of the family sickened; one of the
servants first, Isaac, ("there was no resting-place
in the house, for his terrible groans!") Mrs. Adams

AFTER LEXINGTON 109
herself was the next, and she was sorely tempted
to send for her husband, who was then but a few
days on his journey back to Philadelphia.
"I suffered greatly between my inclination to have
you return, and my fear of sending lest you should
be a partaker of the common calamity." . . . "Our
little Tommy was the next, and he lies very ill now.
. . . Our house is a hospital in every part; and
what with my own weakness and distress of mind
for my family, I have been unhappy enough. And
such is the distress of the neighborhood that I can
scarely find a well person to assist in looking after
the sick. ... So sickly and so mortal a time the
oldest man does not remember. . . . As to poli
tics, I know nothing about them. The distresses
of my own family are so great that I have not
thought of them. ..."
One of the maids died; the others recovered,
though Tommy, who had been a "hearty, hale, corn-
fed boy," was now "entirely stripped of the hardy,
robust countenance, as well as of all the flesh he
had, save what remains for to keep his bones to
gether." In October, Abigail's mother, after visit
ing a soldier home from the army on sick leave,
was stricken by the pestUence and died. This was
a heavy blow, and the daughter's heart cried out

no ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
to her absent mate. "Have pity on me, O thou my
beloved, for the hand of God presseth me sore."
The letter which begins thus would move any
heart even at this distance of time : to John Adams,
it brought deep distress. The loving husband and
father would fain take horse and ride post haste
to Braintree; the steadfast patriot must remain at
his post. AU he could do was to write her fre
quently and as cheerfully as might be.
"I will never," he assures her on December third,
"come here again without you, if I can persuade
you to come with me. Whom God has joined to
gether ought not to be put asunder so long, with
their own consent. We will bring master Johnny
with us; you and he shall have the small-pox here,
and we will be as happy as Mr. Hancock and his
lady. Thank Abby and John for their letters, and
kiss Charles and Tom for me. John writes like a
hero, glowing with ardor for his country and burn
ing with indignation against her enemies. ..."
Now and then, but rarely, he tried to amuse her
with a story.
"A few days ago, in company with Dr. Zubly,
somebody said there was nobody on our side but
the Almighty. The Doctor, who is a native of
Switzerland, and speaks but broken English, quickly

AFTER LEXINGTON in
replied, 'Dat is enough ! Dat is enough !' And turn
ing to me says he, 'It puts me in mind of a fellow
who once said, "The Catholics have on their side
the Pope, and the King of France, and the King of
Spain, and the King of Sardinia, and the King of
Poland, and the Emperor of Germany, etc., etc.,
etc. : but as to these poor devils the Protestants, they
have nothing on their side but God Almighty." ' "

CHAPTER VI
BOSTON BLOCKADE
WHILE John and AbigaU were writing their
letters in Philadelphia and Braintree, Bos
ton town was undergoing a winter of discontent
indeed. Ever since Bunker HiU and the burning of
Charlestown, the British troops liad occupied the
town, while Washington and his army lay encamped
in Cambridge and on Dorchester Heights, west of
the city. In October, the British command was
transferred from General Gage to General Howe,
who proved a more energetic commander. He
burned Falmouth (now Portland), and threatened
many other places. After the burning of Charles
town, Franklin wrote :
"Britain must certainly be distracted. No trades
man out of Bedlam ever thought of increasing the
number of his customers by knocking them on the
head, or of enabling them to pay their debts by
burning their houses. It has been with difficulty
that we have carried another humble Petition to the

BOSTON BLOCKADE 113
Crown, to give Britain one more chance of recov
ering the friendship of the colonies : which, however,
she has not sense enough to embrace; and so she
has lost them for ever."
The rival armies watched each other closely,
meantime passing the time as best they might.
Washington, with his newly levied troops, kept
them busy enough, marching and counter-marching,
drilling and practising; besides, the country was
open to them on all sides, and they could come and
go as occasion required. The British troops, how
ever, found time hang heavy on their hands. Shut
up in narrow quarters amid a bitterly hostile popu
lation, often short of provisions and ruled by an
iron hand, they were having a forlorn time of it.
One feels real compassion for the ancestor of "Tom
my Atkins" : he was probably a very good "fellow
at heart, as Tommy (to whom all honor!) is to
day. He had no personal quarrel with the people
of Boston; he did not care whether they were bond
or free, so he got his rations, his pint and his pipe.
And here he was surrounded by black looks and
scowling faces, and could not so much as answer
a gibe or — possibly — prod an insulting urchin with
his bayonet, without bringing the whole hornet's
nest of patriots about his ears. On the other hand.

114 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
if he were in any way remiss in his duties, he was
flogged with a brutality worthy of the Dark Ages.
A forlorn winter for Tommy, this of 1775-6. SmaU
wonder that he was ready to lend his hand to any
mischief that promised relief from the monotony
of daily life.
Obeying orders, the soldiers tore down many
fine old buildings for firewood, among them that of
John Winthrop; cut down Liberty Tree,^ which
yielded fourteen cords of fine wood; made havoc
generally. The grenadiers were quartered in West
Church ; two regiments of infantry in Brattle Street
Church, whose pillars saved it from sharing the fate
of the Old South, which was, as we know, used
as a riding school by the dragoons.
The British officers fared better than their men.
They were quartered in the homes of absent pa
triots. General Clinton was in the Hancock House,
Earl Percy in that of Gardner Greene, Burgoyne
in the Bowdoin mansion ; while Gage and Howe suc
cessively inhabited the stately Province House.
The patriots, those who could afford to do so,
had mostly left. Those who remained were of the
humbler class, with a sprinkling of physicians, law
yers, and clergymen, who stood by their posts.
'It stood at the corner of Essex and Washington Streets.

BOSTON BLOCKADE 115
Among the clergymen was one with whose name
I have a pleasant association : the Reverend Mather
Byles, pastor of Hollis Street Church. This gentle
man was a merry, as well as a devout person ; full of
quips and cranks, and not always lacking in wanton
wiles. John Adams quotes him as saying, when first
the British troops occupied Boston, that "our griev
ances would now be red-dressed!" But my own
thought of Mr. Byles recalls a story often told by
my mother, which she may have heard in childhood
from her grandfather, the old Revolutionary Colo
nel. It tells how one night the Reverend Mather,
returning home very late, passed by the house of
a man whom he greatly disUked. A sudden thought
struck him; he went up the steps and began to beat
and bang on the door and halloo at the top of his
lungs. After some delay, the night-capped head
of his neighbor was thrust out of the window, de
manding what was to do at this time o' night.
"Have you lost a penknife?" asked Mr. Byles.
"No ! Have you found one ?"
"No, but I feel as if I should any minute !"
Exeunt both parties, one chuckling, the other
swearing. The Tories, rich, prosperous, and loyal to King
George, were ready enough to help the officers in

n6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
making merry. There were sleighing parties, riding
parties, parties of every description : no doubt the
Tory maidens found the winter a very gay one.
Faneuil Hall was turned into a theatre, and Gen
eral Burgoyne wrote plays for it. A performance
of "Zara" was a brilliant success. After another
performance, a farce called "Boston Blockade," a
"Vaudevil" was to be sung by the characters, of
which the following is a part :
Ye Critics, who wait for an End of the Scene,
T' accept it with Praise or dismiss it with Spleen;
Your Candor we ask and demand your Applause,
If not for our Action, at least for our Cause.
'Tis our Aim by Amusement thus chearful and gay.
To wile a few Hours of Winter away:
While we rest on our arms, call the Arts to our Aid,
And be merry in spite of the BOSTON BLOCKADE.
Ye tarbarrel'd Lawgivers, yankified Prigs,
Who are Tyrants in Custom, yet call yourselves Whigs;
In return for the Favors you've lavish'd on me,
May I see you all hanged upon Liberty Tree.
Meantime take Example; decease from Attack;
You're as weak under Arms as I'm weak in my Back,
In War and in Love we alike are betrayed,
And alike are the laughter of BOSTON BLOCKADE.
Come round then, ye Comrades of Honour and Truth,
Experienc'd Age and high-spirited Youth ;
With Drum and with Fife make the Chorus more shrill.
And echo shall waft it to WASHINGTON'S Hill.

BOSTON BLOCKADE 117
All brave BRITISH Hearts shall beat Time while we
sing.
Due Force to our Arms, and Long Life to the King.
To the Honour of both be our Banners display'd,
And a glorious End to the BOSTON BLOCKADE.

As it turned out, the audience had not the pleas
ure of listening to these polished verses. The per
formance was in full swing ; a comic actor held the
stage, mimicking General Washington and holding
him up to ridicule, when a sergeant rushed on the
stage, crying, "The Yankees are attacking the works
on Bunker HiU!"
The audience, supposing this to be part of the
play, laughed and applauded : a happy thought ! a
capital touch! What were their feelings when the
senior officer present rose and called, "Officers to
their posts!" The assembly broke up in disorder.
The officers summoned their men and hastened to
Bunker HiU, where they arrived too late! Major
Knowlton, who had fought so bravely in the battle
of June 17th, had paid a second visit to the hUl,
burned some buildings and carried off several pris
oners. Meanwhile the Tory ladies, deprived of their gal
lant red-coated escorts, scuttled home as best they
might through the dark, crooked streets, and their

n8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
patriot sisters, who had refused to go to the en
tertainment, made merry over the episode for days
afterward. To lovers of Hawthorne, this story might well
be followed by that wonderful tale of "Howe's
Masquerade,"^ which used to thrill me as a child,
and which I cannot even now read unmoved. If no^;
true in actual fact, it gives with absolute truth the
Spirit of Seventy-Six.
The winter was a mild one: all too mild for
Washington. He was eager to cross the ice on the
Back Bay and attack the town; but the ice would
not bear. Week by week he watched and tested
it; all in vain. It was not till February, that
"strong little month," that the real cold came.
"When the days begin to lengthen, the cold begins
to strengthen." Day foUowed day of keen, dry
cold ; night by night the ice "made," till a floor of
crystal, solid as rock, lay about the peninsula of
Boston. Washington called a council of war and
urged an assault on the town. Alas! his field offi
cers demurred, shook their heads, would none of it.
Reluctantly he abandoned the plan, and determined
to seize instead Dorchester Heights and Noddle's
Island (East Boston).
' "Twice-Told Tales." Nathaniel Hawthorne.

BOSTON BLOCKADE 119
On March 2d, AbigaU Adams writes to her hus
band: "I have been kept in a continual state of anxiety
and expectation ever since you left me. It has been
said 'tomorrow' and 'tomorrow,' for this month,
but when the dreadful tomorrow wiU be, I know
not. But hark ! The house this instant shakes with
the roar of cannon. I have been to the door, and
find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I
find, are come for all the remaining militia to re
pair to the lines Monday night by twelve oclock.
No sleep for me tonight. And if I cannot sleep,
who have no guilt upon my soul with regard to this
cause, how shaU the miserable wretches who have
been the procurers of this dreadful scene, and those
who are to be the actors, lie down with the load of
guilt upon their souls?"
The story continues through the following days.
Sunday evening.
"I went to bed after twelve, but got no rest; the
cannon continued firing, and my heart beat pace
with them all night. We have had a pretty quiet
day, but what tomorrow will bring forth, God only
knows." "Monday evening. Tolerably quiet. Today the

120 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
mUitia have all mustered, with three days' pro
vision, and are all marched by three o'clock this
afternoon, though their notice was no longer ago
than eight o'clock Saturday. And now we have
scarcely a man, but our regular guards, either in
Weymouth, Hingham, Braintree, or Milton, and the
militia from the more remote towns are called in
as seacoast guards. Can you form to yourself an
idea of our sensations?
"I have just returned from Penn's Hill, where I
have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of can
non, and from whence I could see every shell which
was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the
grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the
sublime. 'Tis now an incessant roar; but oh! the
fatal ideas which are connected with the sound!
How many of our dear countrymen must fall !
"Tuesday morning. I went to bed about twelve,
and rose again a little after one. I could no more
sleep than if I had been in the engagement; the rat
tling of the windows, the jar of the house, the con
tinual roar of twenty-four pounders, and the burst
ing of shells, give us such ideas, and realize a scene
to us of which we could form scarcely any concep
tion. About six, this moming, all was quiet. I
rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got pos-

BOSTON BLOCKADE 121
session of Dorchester HiU last night; four thou
sand men upon it today; lost but one man. The
ships are all drawn round the town. Tonight we
shall realize a more terrible scene still. I some
times think I cannot stand it. I wish myself with
you, out of hearing, as I cannot assist them. I
hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in
ruins, before I send this away. I am too much
agitated to write as I ought, and languid for want
of rest.
"Thursday. All my anxiety and distress is at
present at an end. I feel disappointed. This day
our miUtia are all returning, without effecting any
thing more than taking possession of Dorchester
Hill. I hope it is wise and just, but, from all the
muster and stir, I hoped and expected more im
portant and decisive scenes. I would not have suf
fered all I have for two such hills. Ever since the
taking of that, we have had a perfect calm; nor
can I learn what effect it has had in Boston. I do
not hear of one person's escaping since."
Abigail need not have suffered even this moment
ary discouragement, could she have foreseen the
outcome of these hours of suspense. The cannonade
which so shook the neighboring towns was ordered
by Washington to divert the attention of the Brit-

122 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
ish, and to drown the noise of carts crossing the
frozen ground : carts whose wheels were bound with
straw, and before which the road was strewn with
straw, StiU further to deaden the sound. General
Thomas was moving from Roxbury to South Bos
ton with twelve hundred men. Silently, under cover
of the darkness, and later of a thick white fog,
under shelter of that good thunder of the Cam
bridge guns, they marched ; silently, they took their
new stand, laid down their arms to take up pick
axe and spade. In the morning, when the fog
lifted, the amazed British looked out on a row
of formidable entrenchments on Dorchester Heights,
just above their heads.
Great was the consternation. Howe summoned
his officers, and prepared for a counter-attack; but
Dame Nature, apparently in league with the pa
triots, responded with a furious storm which, last
ing several days, made the action from Castle
Island which he had planned impossible. During
these days of storm, Washington was strengthening
his defenses. Howe looked, and realized that the
game was up. Others realized it too: the select
men of Boston quietly intimated to him that if he
left the town uninjured, his troops would be suf
fered to embark undisturbed. Washington gave no

BOSTON BLOCKADE 123
sign; waited, his powder dry, his matches burning.
Nor did Howe answer the citizens in words; no
words were needed for what he had to do. By day
break on March 17th, the troops began to embark;
by nine o'clock the last boat had put off. Boston
was evacuated, and Washington and his Continent
als entered the city.^
"The actors in the scene have vanished into deeper
obscurity than even that wild Indian band who scat
tered the cargoes of the tea ships on the waves, and
gained a place in history, yet left no names. But
superstition, among other legends df this mansion,
(the Province House) repeats the wondrous tale,
that on the anniversary night of Britain's discomfit
ure the ghosts of the ancient governors of Massa
chusetts still gUde through the portal of the Prov
ince House. And, last of all, comes a figure shroud
ed in a military cloak, tossing his clenched hands in
to the air, and stamping his ironshod boots upon the
broad freestone steps, with a semblance of feverish
despair, but without the sound of a foot-tramp." *
'Be it remembered that Washington did not remain in
Boston, but anticipating Howe's attack on New York, was
encamped in Brooklyn Heights by April: these movements
ended the operations in New England, New York was the
centre of the next campaign.
'"Legends of the Province House." Nathaniel Hawthorne.

CHAPTER VII
IN HAPPY BRAINTREE
WHAT was home life like, when Johnny and
Abby Adams were little? It would be
pleasant to see something of it in detail; if Mrs.
Adams had only kept a diary ! As it is, it is mostly
by side-lights that we can get a glimpse of that
Braintree home, so happy in itself, so shadowed, in
the days of which I write, by the tremendous cloud
of public events.
We know that Mrs. Adams spent some part of
each day in writing letters ; but we have to stop and
think about the other things she did, some of them
were so different from the things women do today.
Take the spinning and weaving ! A spinning wheel,
'for us, is a pretty, graceful article of furniture,
very useful for tableaux vivants and the like; in the
Adams household it was as constantly and inevit
ably used as our own sewing-machine. So was the
loom, which is banished altogether from New Eng-
124

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 125
and homes, though in some parts of the South it
is still in use. Mrs. Adams and her maids, Susie
and Patty (poor Patty, who died that summer of
1775!). not only made, but spun and wove, every
article of clothing, every sheet, blanket, table-cloth,
that the house afforded. The wool-wheel is a large
clumsy affair, very different from the elegant little
flax-wheel. You may still find it in some New Eng
land households. Some years ago, driving along a
remote road, I came to a little brown house, so old
and moss-covered that it seemed almost a part of
the wood that surrounded it. I knocked, and hear
ing a cheery "Come in!" entered to find a neat
kitchen, half filled by an enormous wheel, in front
of which a little brownie of a woman was stepping
back and forth, diligently spinning yarn. It was
a pretty sight.
Thinking of this, and trying, as I am constantly
doing, to link the new time to the old, I find my
self calling up another picture, a scene on Boston
Common in the year 1749, when a society, formed
for promoting industry and frugality, publicly cele
brated its fourth anniversary. "In the afternoon
about three hundred young female spinsters, de
cently dressed, appeared on the Common at their
spinning wheels. The wheels were placed regularly

126 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
in rows, and a female was seated at each wheel.
The weavers also appeared, cleanly dressed, in gar
ments of their own weaving. One of them work
ing at a loom on a stage was carried on men's shoul
ders, attended with music. An immense number
of spectators were present."
I wonder if Mrs. Adams and her maidens made
any "Bounty Coats." When Washington gathered
his army in May, 1775, there were no overcoats
for the men. The Provincial Congress "made a
demand on the people for thirteen thousand warm
coats to be ready for the soldiers by cold weather."
There were no factories then, remember : no steam-
power, no contractors, no anything — except the wo
men and their wheels. All over the country, the
big wool-wheels began to fly, the shuttles sped back
and forth through the sounding looms. Every
town, every village, every lonely farmhouse, would
do its part ; long before the appointed time, the coats
were ready. Inside each coat was sewed the name
of town and maker. Every soldier, volunteering
for eight months' service, was given one of these
coats as a bounty. We are told that "so highly
were these 'Bounty Coats' prized, that the heirs
of soldiers who were killed at Bunker HiU before
receiving their coats were given a sum of money

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 127
instead. The list of names of soldiers who then en
Usted is known to this day as the 'Coat Roll,' and
the names of the women who made the coats might
form another roll of honor."
I cannot be sure that one or more of these coats
came from the lean-to farmhouse in Braintree, but
I like .to think so, and certainly nothing is more
probable. The women who refused to drink tea determined
also to do without imported dress materials. From
Massachusetts to South CaroUna, the Daughters of
Liberty agreed to wear only homespun garments.
General Howe, finding 'Linnen and Woollen Goods
much wanted by the Rebels," carried away with
him, when he evacuated Boston, all of such things
as he could lay hands on. He reckoned without
the spinners! In town and village, the Daughters
flocked together, bringing their flax-wheels with
them, sometimes to the number of sixty or seventy.
In Rowley, Massachusetts, "A number of thirty-
three respectable ladies of the town met at sunrise
with their wheels to spend the day at the house of
the Rev'd Jedidiah Jewell, in the laudable design of
a spinning match. At an hour before sunset, the
ladies there appearing neatly dressed, principally in
homespun, a polite and generous repast of Ameri-

128 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
can production was set for their entertainment. Af
ter which being present many spectators of both
sexes, Mr. Jewell delivered a profitable discourse
from Romans xii. 2 : 'Not slothful in business, fer
vent in spirit, serving the Lord.' " ^
There was always a text and a sermon for the
spinners; a favorite text was from the Book of
Exodus: "And all the women that were wise-
hearted did spin with their hands." The women of
Northboro, forty- four of them, spun two thousand,
two hundred, twenty-three knots of linen and tow,
and wove one linen sheet and two towels, all in one
day! This is amazing; but another record outdoes it:
an extract from the diary of a young Connecticut
girl, AbigaU Foote, in this very year, 1775:
"Fix'd gown for Prude, — Mend Mother's Riding-
hood, — spun short thread, — Fix'd two gowns for
Walsh's girls, — Carded tow, — Spun linen, — Worked
on Cheese-basket, — Hatchel'd flax with Hannah, we
did 51 lbs. apiece, — Pleated and ironed, — Read a
Sermon of Doddridge's, — Spooled a piece, — Milked
the cows, — Spun linen, did 50 knots, — Made a
Broom of Guinea wheat straw, — Spun thread to
whiten, — Set a Red dye, — Had two scholars from
' "Social Life in Old New England." Mary C. Crawford.

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 129
Mrs. Taylors, — I carded two pounds of whole wool
and feh Nationly, — Spun harness twine, — Scoured
the pewter."
One feels confident that Abby Adams had no
such record as this to show. She was an indus
trious and capable girl, but Mother Abigail would
see to it that her day was not a/^ spent in household
work. There were lessons to learn and recite; the
daughter of John Adams must have a cultivated
mind, as well as skilful fingers. John went to Mr.
Thatcher's school, but for "Nabby" and the two
younger boys, "Mother" was the sole^instructress.
Both parents were full of anxious care and thought
for the children's well-being. There is a beautiful
letter from Mr. Adams, written in April, 1776, in
which, after describing his multifarious labors, he
thus pours out his mind.
"What will come of this labor, time will dis
cover. I shaU get nothing by it, I believe, because
I never get anything by anything that I do. I am
sure the public or posterity ought to get something.
I believe my children will think I might as well have
thought and labored a little, night and day, for their
benefit. But I wUl not bear the reproaches of my
children. I will tell them that I studied and la
bored to procure a free constitution of government

130 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
for them to solace themselves under, and if they do
not prefer this to ample fortune, to ease and ele
gance, they are not my children, and I care not
what becomes of them. They shall live upon thin
diet, wear mean clothes, and work hard with cheer
ful hearts and free spirits, or they may be the chil
dren of the earth, or of no one, for me.
"John has genius, and so has Charles. Take
care that they don't go astray. Cultivate their
minds, inspire their little hearts, raise their wishes.
Fix their attention upon great and glorious objects.
Root out every little thing. Weed out every mean
ness. Make them great and manly. Teach them to
scorn injustice, ingratitude, cowardice, and false
hood. Let them revere nothing but religion, mor
ality, and liberty.
"Abby and Tommy are not forgottenJ)yjne,_al-
though J- did not mention them ieifore. The first,
by reason of her sex, requires a different^ education
from the two I have mentioned. Of this, you are
the only judge. I want to send each of my little
pretty flock some present or other. I have walked
over this city twenty times, and gaped at every shop,
like a countryman, to find something, but could not.
Ask everyone of them what they would choose to
have, and write it to me in your next letter. From

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 131
this I shall judge of their taste and fancy and dis
cretion." Husband and wife are 'full of. forebodings, yet
have always a heartening word for each other.
"I have some thought," writes Mr. Adams, "of
petitioning the General Court for leave to bring my
family here. I am a lonely, forlorn creature here.
. . . It is a cruel reflection, which very often comes
across me, that I should be separated so far from
those babes whose education and welfare lie so near
my heart. But greater misfortunes than these must
not divert us from superior duties.
"Your sentiments of the duties we owe to our
country are such as become the best of women and
the best of men. Among all the disappointments
and perplexities which have fallen to my share in
life, nothing has contributed so much to support
my mind as the choice blessing of a wife whose
capacity enabled her to comprehend, and whose pure
virtue obliged her to approve, the views of her hus
band. This has been the cheering consolation of my
heart in my most solitary, gloomy, and disconsolate
hours. ... I want to take a walk with you in the
garden, to go over to the common, the plain, the
meadow. I want to take Charles in one hand and
Tom in the other, and walk with you, Abby on your

132 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
right hand and John upon my left, to view the corn
fields, the orchards, etc. ..."
Shortly after this, on June 3d, AbigaU writes :
"I wish to hear from you every opportunity,
though you say no more than that you are well. I
feel concerned lest your clothes should go to rags,
having nobody to take any care of you in your long
absence ; and then, you have not with you a proper
change for the seasons. However, you must do the
best you can. I have a suit of homespun for you
whenever you return. I cannot avoid sometimes
repining that the gifts of fortune were not bestowed
upon us, that I might have enjoyed the happiness
of spending my days with my partner, but as it is,
I think it my duty to attend with frugality and
economy to our own private affairs ; and if I cannot
add to our little substance, yet see to it that it is
not diminished. I should enjoy but little comfort in
a state of idleness and uselessness. Here I can
serve my partner, my family, and myself, and en
joy the satisfaction of your serving your country. . .
"Everything bears a very great price. The mer
chant complains of the farmer and the farmer of
the merchant, — both are extravagant. Living is
double what it was one year ago.
"I find you have licensed tea, but I am deter-

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 133
mined not to be a purchaser unless I can have it
'^'at Congress price, and in that article the vendors
pay no regard to Congress, asking ten, eight, and
the lowest is seven and sixpence per pound. I should
like a little green, but they say there is none to be
had here. I only wish it for a medicine, as a re
lief to a nervous pain in my head to which I am
sometimes subject. Were it as plenty as ever, I
would not practice the use of it."
Beside spinning, weaving and making all the
clothing, Mrs. Adams and her maids must make
all the soap for the family ; this was a regular part
of the housewife's duty, and a disagreeable part
it was. "You inquire of me," she writes, "whether I am
making saltpetre. I have not yet attempted it, but
after soap-making beUeve I shaU make the experi
ment. I find as much as I can do to manufacture
clothing for my family, which would else be naked."
- -Many women were making saltpetre for the gun
powder ; let us hope they had fewer other necessary
occupations than Mrs. Adams.
Be sure that with all the plainer parts of house
wifery, Abby was also instructed in its graces. We
can picture her sitting by her mother's side (Brother
Johnny, perhaps, reading aloud the while from

134 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"RoUin's Ancient History," a work which he found
entrancing) working at her sampler, or knitting a
purse for Papa, far away, or mittens for her broth
ers. All the mittens and stockings, of course, were
made at home as well as the clothes. Mitten knit
ting could be a fine art in those days. We read
that one "young New Hampshire girl, using fine
flaxen yarn, knit the whole alphabet and a verse of
poetry into a pair of mittens!" Then there is the
wonderful story of Nancy Peabody. How her
brother, coming in from work at night, announced .
that he had lost his mittens. How Nancy ran to
the garret for wool, carded and spun a big hank of
yarn that night, soaked and scoured it next morn
ing, and as soon as it was dry, sat down to knit.
"In twenty-four hours from the time the brother
announced his loss he had a fine new pair of double
mittens." "I tell the tale as I've heard told."
Did Abby learn netting with all the rest ? Doubt
less sh : did. Lady Washington set the fashion, and
netted so well and so industriously that all her
family were proud of trimming their dresses with
her work. Then there was quilting, a fine art in
deed in those days, and the exquisite embroidery
which we find in our grandmothers' cupboards, and
over which we sigh partly in admiration, partly in

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 135
compassion for the eyes which were so cruelly tried ;
and a dozen other niceties and exquisitenesses of
needlework. To quote the advertisement of Mrs.
Sarah Wilson, who kept a boarding-school for girls
in Philadelphia:
''Young ladies may be educated in a genteel man
ner, ¦la^ pains taken to teach them in regard to their
behaviour, cin reasonable terms. They may be
taught al^ sorts, fine needlework, viz., working on
catgttt or flowering muslin, sattin stitch, quince
stitch, tent stitch, cross-stitch, open work, tambour,
embroidering; ciirtains or cljairs, writing and cy-
jphering. Likewise waxwork in all its several
branches, never as yet particularly taught here ; also
how to take profiles in wax, to make wax flowers
and fruits and pinbaskets."
Boston would not be behind Philadelphia in mat
ters of high fashion.
In the Boston News-Letter, in August, 1716, we
read: "This is to give notice that at the House of Mr.
George Brownell, late Schoolmaster in Hanover
Street, Boston, are all sorts of Millinery Works
done; making up Dresses and flowering of Muslin,
making of furbelow'd Scarffs, and Quilting and cut
ting of Gentlewomen's Hair in the newest Fashion ;

136 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and also young Gentlewomen and children taught
all sorts of fine works, as Feather-work, FUigre and
Painting on Glass, Embroidering a new way, Tur
key-work for Handkerchiefs two ways, fine new
Fashion purses, flourishing and plain Work, and
Dancing cheaper than was ever taught in Boston.
Brocaded work for Handkerchiefs and short Aprons
upon Muslin; artificial Flowers work'd with a
needle." And what did Abby Adams wear, say in 1776,
when she was ten years old? Why, she wore a
large hoop, and, I fear, very uncomfortable corsets,
with a stiff board down the front ; high-heeled shoes,
and mitts reaching to her elbows, and a ruffled or
embroidered apron. Of all this we may be toler
ably sure, as it was the costume of the time. We
may hope, however, Mrs. Adams being the sensible
woman she was, that Abby did not suffer like Dolly
Payne (afterward Dolly Madison), who went to
school wearing "a white linen mask to keep every
ray of sunshine from the complexion, a sunbonnet
sewed on her head every morning by her careful
mother, and long gloves covering the hands and
arms." When Nelly Custis was four years old, her step
father. General Washington, ordered an outfit for

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 137
her from England, "pack-thread stays, stiff coats of
silk, masks, caps, bonnets, bibs, ruffles, necklaces,
fans, silk and calamanco shoes, and leather pumps.
There were also eight pairs of kid mitts and four
pairs of gloves." Poor Nelly!
But to return to Abby Adams. One article of
her winter costume has a personal interest for me,
because it survived to my own time, and I suffered
under, or rather in it, in my childhood. The pump
kin hood ! It has genuine historical interest, for it
dates back to the days of the unwarmed meeting
house, when a woman or a girl-child must wrap up
her head, and smuggle in a hot brick or a hot stick
for her feet, if she would keep alive through meet
ing. How ugly the thing was! Of clumsy oblong
shape, coming well forward over the face; heavily
quilted, an inch thick or so ; knots of narrow ribbon
or of worsted sticking up here and there; I de
tested it, thought it a hardship to be condemned to
wear it, instead of being thankful for warm ears
and a historic atmosphere. I think our pumpkin
hoods were among the last to survive, and some of
the other girls had already beauteous things called
skating-caps, fitting the head closely, displaying pie-
shaped sections of contrasting colors, gray and pur
ple, blue and scarlet, knitted or crocheted, I forget

138 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
which. Looking back to the early Sixties, the skat-
ing-cap still seems among the greatly desirable
things of Ufe.
Perhaps we have gone as far as we can in pictur
ing little Abby Adams, who grew up an accom
plished and charming young woman, and in due time
married, by curious coincidence, a Mr. Smith, thus
taking as a married woman her mother's maiden
name. Let us return to the elder Abigail.
Left alone to manage all affairs, household and
educational, it is "not strange that her keen, alert'
mind sought wider fields for exercise than home lif e _
afforded. She tht)Ugh^for herself, and her thought
took a direction which now seems prophetic. No
doubt she'*was in merry mood when she wrote to
John on March 31st, I776, yet there is a ring of
earnestness under the playfulness.
• (Note that the Assembly of Virginia, roused by
the burning of Norfolk, had just voted to propose
to Congress "that the colonies be declared free and
independent"; and afterward the British flag had
been hauled down at Williamsburg and replaced by
a banner with thirteen stripes.)
"I long to hear," writes Abigail to her dearest
friend, "that you have declared an independency. '
And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 139
suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I de
sire you would remember the ladies and be more
generous and favorable to them than your ances
tors. Do not put such unlimited power into the
hands of the husbands. Remember, all men would
be tyrants if they could. If particular care and
attention is not paid to the ladies, we ai-e deter
mined to f ornent a rebellion, and will not hold our
selves bound by any laws in. which we have no voice
or representation. . -
"That your sex are naturaUy tyrannical is a truth
so thoroughly estabUshed as to admit of no dispute;
but such of you as wish to be happy wiUingly give
up the harsh title of master for the more tender
and endearing one of friend. Why, then, not put
it out of the power of the vicious and the lawless
to use us with cruelty and ind'ignity with impunity ?
Men of sense in all ag^ abhor those customs which
treat jis only as the vassals of "y eur sex; regard us
then as beings placed by Providence under your pro
tection, and in imitation of the Supreme Being
make use of that power only for our happiness."
~^ Mr. Adams replies, in high amusement :
"As to your extraordinary code of laws, I can
not but laugh. We have been told that our struggle
has loosened the bonds of government everywhere ;

140 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
that children and apprentices were disobedient ; that
schools and coUeges were grown turbulent ; that In
dians slighted their guardians, and negroes grew in
solent to their masters. But your letter was the first
intimation that another tribe, more numerous and
powerful than all the rest, were grown discontented.
This is rather too coarse a compliment, hut-you_are
so saucy, I won't blot it out. Depend upon it, we
know better than to repeal our masculine systems.
Although they are in full force, you know they are
little more than theory. We dare not exert our
power in its full latitude. We are obliged to go
fair and softly, and, in practice, you know we are
the subjects. We have only the name of masters,
and rather than give up this, which would completely
subject us to the despotism of the petticoat, I hope
General Washington and all our brave heroes would
fight; I am sure every good politician would plot,
as long as he would against despotism, empire, mon
archy, aristocracy, oligarchy, or ochlocracy. A fine
story, indeed! I begin to think the ministry as
deep as they are wicked. After stirring up Tories,
land-jobbers, trimmers, bigots, Canadians, Indians,
negroes, Hanoverians, Hessians, Russians, Irish
Roman Catholic^ Scotch renegades, at last they have

IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 141
Stimulated the  to demand new privileges and
threaten to rebel."
Doubtless John thought this settled the question ;
but Abigail had the last word to say.
/ "I cannot say that I think you are very generous
to the ladies ; for, whilst you are proclaiming peace
and good-will to men, emancipating all nations, you
insist upon retaining an absolute power over wives.
But you must remember that arbitrary power is, like
most other things which are very hard, very liable
to be broken; and, notwithstanding aU your wise
laws and maxims, we have it in our power, not only
to free ourselves, but to subdue our masters, and,
without violence, throw both your natural and le
gal authority at our feet: —
Charm by accepting, by submitting sway.
Yet have our humor most when we obey."

CHAPTER VIII
INDEPENDENCE AT LAST
WHILE John and Abigail were tilting merrily
at each other, the days were hastening on,
and the first great climax of American history was
drawing near. We must turn to our histories for
the account of those June days in Philadelphia, when
"the child Independence" was making his magical
growth to manhood ; when it was coming to be fin
ally realized that "the country was not only ripe
for independence, but was in danger of becoming
rotten for want of it" ; when the notable Committee
of Five was appointed, charged with the duty of
preparing a Declaration of the Independence of the
thirteen colonies. Everyone knows their names :
Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston, Benjamin
Franklin, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson. Every
one knows that Jefferson wrote the Declaration ; yet
Adams, it was said, stood forth as "the Atlas of
Independence," bearing on his shoulders the main
burden of the tremendous decision.
142

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 143
We must read of it in his own words of solemn
rejoicing: "Yesterday, the greatest question was decided
which ever was debated in America, and a greater,
perhaps, never was nor will be decided among men.
A Resolution was passed without one dissenting col
ony 'that these United Colonies are, and of right
ought to be, free and independent States, and as
such they have, and of right ought to have, full
power to make war, conclude peace, establish com
merce, and to do all other acts and things which
other States may rightfully do.' You will see, in a
few days, a Declaration setting forth the causes
which have impelled us to this mighty revolution,
and the reasons which will justify it in the sight of
God and man. A plan of confederation wiU be
taken up in a few days. . . .
"The second day of July, 1776, will be the most
memorable epocha in the history of America. I am
apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeed
ing generations as the great anniversary festival. It
ought to be commemorated as the day of deliver
ance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty.
It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade,
with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and

144 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
iUuminations, from one end of this continent to the
other, from this time forward forevennore.
'"Y'ou wiU think me transponed with enthusiasm,
but I am not. I am weU aware of the toil and blood
and treasure that it wiU cost us to maintain this
Dedzr^on znd support and AtSend these 5c.2-f<r
Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of
ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end
is more than worth all the means. And that pos
terity will triumph in that day's transaction, even
although we should rue it, which I trust in God we
shall not."
We celebrate the Fourth of July, the day upon
which the form of the Declaration of Independence
was agreed to, instead of the second, when it was
determined upon by Congress. It matters little;
these words of John Adams' shine like a halo round
our Independence Day. May it ever be solemnized
as he would have it, "from this time forward for-
evermore." We can fancy the feelings of the faithful and lov
ing wife as she read these words, which no Ameri
can can ever read unmoved. We can see the tears
rise to her bright dark eyes, tears of love and pride
and trust unspeakable. We can see her gathering
the children around her, Abby and John, Charles,.

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 145
and even little Tommy, and reading the letter out
to them in faltering but exultant tones. Yes, and
we can see young John's head flung up, see his dark
eyes, so like his mother's, brighten responsive, see,
almost, the high beating of his answering heart. It
was their great moment ; we are glad to share in it,
even a little.
Yet Abigail's reply is sober and discreet, like her
self. She writes :
"By yesterday's post I received two letters dated
3d and 4th of July, and though your letters never
fail to give me pleasure, be the subject what it wiU,
yet it was greatly heightened by the prospect of
the future happiness and glory df our country. Nor
am I a little gratified when I reflect that a person so
nearly connected with me has had the honor of be
ing a principal actor in laying a foundation for its
future greatness.
"May the foundation of our new Constitution
be Justice, Truth, Righteousness! Like the wise
man's house, may it be founded upon these rocks,
and then neither storm nor tempests will over
throw it !"
And again on the 21st:
"Last Thursday, after hearing a very good ser
mon, I went with the multitude into King Street

146 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
[Boston] to hear the Proclamation for Independ
ence read and proclaimed. Some field-pieces with
the train were brought there. The troops appeared
under arms, and all the inhabitants assembled there
(the small-pox prevented many thousands from the
country), when Colonel Crafts read from the bal
cony of the State House the proclamation. Great
attention was given to every word. As soon as he
ended, the cry from the balcony was, 'God save our
American States,' and then three cheers which rent
the air. The bells rang, the privateers fired, the
forts and batteries, the cannon were discharged, the
platoons foUowed, and every face appeared joyful.
Mr. Bowdoin then gave a sentiment, 'Stability and
perpetuity to American independence.' After din
ner, the King's Arms were taken down from the
State House, and every vestige of him from every
place in which it appeared, and burnt in King Street.
Thus ends royal authority in this State. And all
the people shall say Amen."
Meantime a foe appeared far more terrible than
any who wore a red coat, though he bore the same
color; a foe whose little scarlet flag still carries ter
ror to the heart, shorn as he is today of half his
power. The letters of this year are full of allusion to

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 147
the small-pox; in fact, a fearful epidemic was
raging. Mr. Adams writes in June :
"The small-pox! the small-pox! what shall we
do with it ? I could almost wish that an inoculating
hospital was opened in every town in New England.
It is some small consolation that the scoundrel sav
ages have taken a large dose of it. They plundered
the baggage and stripped off the clothes of our men
who had the small-pox out full upon them at the
Cedars." Vaccination was not yet, but careful people were
hastening to be inoculated, all the country over.
Mrs. Adams took all the children into Boston for
this purpose, and a miserable time they had of it.
Her eyes were much affected, and for some days
she could not write. Mr. Adams, receiving no let
ters, on July 20th grew anxious :
"This has been a dull day to me. I waited the
arrival of the post with much solicitude and impa
tience, but his arrival made me more solicitous still.
'To be left at the Post Office,' in your handwriting
on the back of a few lines from the Dr. was all that
I could learn of you and my little folks. If you
were too busy to write, I hoped that some kind hand
would have been found to let me know something
about you. Do my friends think that I have been a

148 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
politician so long as to have lost all feeling? Do
they suppose I have forgotten my wife and chil
dren? Or are they so panic-struck with the loss of
Canada as to be afraid to correspond with me ? Or
have they forgotten that you have a husband, and
your children a father? What have I done, or
omitted to do, that I should be thus forgotten and
neglected in the most tender and affecting scene of
my life? Don't rnistake me. I don't blame you.
Your time and thoughts must have been wholly
taken up with your own and your family's situation
and necessities; but twenty other persons might
have informed me.
"I suppose that you intended to have run slyly
through the small-pox with the family, without let
ting me know it, and then have sent me an account
that you were all weU. This might be a kind in
tention, and if the design had succeeded, would have
made me very joyous. But the secret is out, and I
am left to conjecture. But as the faculty have this
distemper so much under command, I will flatter
myself with the hope and expectation of soon hear
ing of your recovery."
A few days later he writes :
"How are you all this morning? Sick, weak,
faint, in pain, or pretty well recovered? By this

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 149
time, you are well acquainted with the small-pox.
Pray, how do you Uke it?"
Pie had been inoculated himself, and knew all
about it. He longed to send some comforting thing
to his beloved, and fixed upon a canister of green
tea, for which she had sometimes sighed, though she
would not buy it. He sent the tea by a friend, Mr.
Garry, "an old bachelor, and what is worse a poli
tician." I must add, "what is worse still, an ab
sent-minded person !" for he carried the tea to Mrs.
Samuel Adams, who received it with great delight.
Meantime, John Adams was flattering himself that
his Abigail, amidst aU her fatigues and distresses,
was having "the poor relief of a dish of good tea."
Mr. Garry retumed to Philadelphia and Mr. Adams,
meeting him, asked without a misgiving, "You de
livered the tea?"
"Yes, to Mr. Samuel Adams' lady."
Poor John ! he was so vexed that he ordered an
other canister and sent it by a surer hand. He bids
his wife "send a card to Mrs. S. A., and let her
know that the canister was intended for you, and
she may send it you, if she chooses, as it was
charged to me. It is amazingly dear; nothing less
than forty shillings, lawful money, a pound."
Meantime Abigail was writing :

150 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"The herbs you mention I never received. I was
upon a visit to Mrs. S. Adams about a week after
Mr. Garry returned, when she entertained me with
a very fine dish of green tea. The scarcity of the
article made me ask her where she got it. She re
plied that her sweetheart sent it to her by Mr. Garry.
I said nothing, but thought my sweetheart might
have been equally kind, considering the disease I
was visited with, and that it was recommended as a
bracer. A Uttle after, you mentioned a couple of
bundles sent. I supposed one of them might con
tain the article, but found they were letters. How
Mr. Garry should make such a mistake I know not.
I shall take the liberty of sending for what is left
of it, though I suppose it is half gone, as it was very
freely used. If you had mentioned a single word
of it in your letter, I should have immediately found
out the mistake."
Moral : Don't send "surprises" unless you are sure
of the hand by which they are sent.
There are no letters between October, 1776, and
January, 1777, which means that John Adams had
a happy visit at home with his dear ones. A win
ter, too, of tremendous excitement, of breathless
waiting for mails and despatches. We can see Mr.
Adams in his arm chair, one January day, trying to

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 151
read — let us say Xenophon ! he would be good read
ing in those days — one eye on the book, the other
out of window : Madam Abigail opposite, with Abby
beside her, both at their tambour work.
"Isn't it time he was here ?" says Mr. Adams for
the tenth time; and he gets up and starts on para-
sangs of his own up and down the room. Madam
Abigail probably suggests patience, after the manner
of women, but she looks out of window just as often
as he does.
At last! at last comes the clatter of hoofs. The
post-rider (only nine years old, and he has ridden
all the way from Boston ! ) is here. The gate clicks,
and Master Johnny's legs come flying up the path.
He is waving a paper over his head ; I don't know
who gets to the door first, but I seem to see the
Head of the Family tearing the despatch open in
unstatesmanlike haste.
On Christmas night, he reads, General Washing
ton crossed the Delaware above Trenton, amid ice
and snow, storm and tempest. He surprised the
British camp, captured a thousand Hessians and car
ried them off with him to Pennsylvania.
Glory ! glory ! Stay ! there is more. On the sec
ond of January, he was once more face to face with
the British at Trenton, surrounded by them; they

152 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
had him fast. "I have the old fox penned !" chuckles
CornwaUis; "I'll bag him in the morning!"
But morning showed a row of empty earthworks,
and the fox and his cubs well on their way to Prince
ton, where they fell upon another body of British,
routed them in twenty minutes, and carried off three
hundred of them, with much ammunition and arms,
whereof they, to wit, fox and cubs, stood grievously
in need.
This was the gist of the despatch ; I do not pre
tend to give its wording. But fancy the effect of it,
however worded, on the quiet Braintree household !
John and Charles and even little Tommy, dancing
up and down in their flapped waistcoats, shouting
and huzzaing; Abby, very likely, shedding tears of
happiness over her tambour frame; Father John
striding up and down the room again, but now in
different mood, probably declaiming lines from Hor
ace in a voice that will not allow itself to tremble;
Mother Abigail trying stiU to be Portia, and to pre
tend that she knows one end of the needle from the
other. A pleasant picture indeed ; and — who knows ?
Possibly not so far from the truth.
All the harder was it, amid all these great hap
penings, for Mr. Adams to mount and ride, leaving

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 153
his dear ones to face the winter without him; but
mount he must, and did.
He writes on his way back to Philadelphia :
"Present my affection in the tenderest manner to
my little deserving daughter and my amiable sons.
It was cruel parting this morning. My heart was
most deeply affected, although I had the presence of
mind to appear composed. May God Almighty's
providence protect you, my dear, and all our Uttle
ones. My good genius, my guardian angel, whis
pers me that we shall see happier days, and that
I shall live to enjoy the felicities of domestic life
with her whom my heart esteems above all earthly
blessings." The war began to press heavily on New England
housekeepers. Prices went steadily up, and the
necessaries of life became hard to procure. Abi
gail writes in April, of 1777 : "Indian corn at five
shiUings; rye, eleven and twelve shiUings, but
scarcely any to be had even at that price ; beef, eight
pence; yeal, sixpence and eightpence; butter, one
and sixpence; mutton, none; lamb, none; pork,
none; cotton-wool, none; mean sugar, four pounds
per hundred; molasses, none; New England rum,
eight shillings per gallon; coffee, two and sixpence
per pound; chocolate, three shiUings."

154 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
She tells at the same time a curious story, of five
Tories being carted out of town under the direction
of "Joice junior," for refusing to take the paper
money of the new Republic. "Joice junior" was a
name which might be assumed by any patriot who
wished to redress a grievance. He wore a horrible
mask, and in this case "was mounted on horseback,
with a red coat, a white wig, and a drawn sword,
with drum and fife foUowing. A concourse of
people to the amount of five hundred followed.
They proceeded as far as Roxbury, when he or
dered the cart to be tipped up, then told them if
they were ever caught in town again it should be
at the expense of their lives. He then ordered his
gang to return, which they did immediately without
any disturbance."
In July, it is the women who take matters into
their own hands.
"You must know," writes Abigail, "that there is
a great scarcity of sugar and coffee, articles which
the female part of the State is very loath to give
up, especially whilst they consider the scarcity occa
sioned by the merchants having secreted a large
quantity. There had been much rout and noise in
the town for several weeks. Some stores had been
opened by a number of people, and the coffee and

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 155
sugar carried into the market and dealt out by
pounds. It was rumored that an eminent, wealthy,
stingy merchant (who is a bachelor) had a hogs
head of coffee in his store, which he refused to seU
to the committee under six shUlings per pound. A
number of females, some say a hundred, some say
more, assembled with a cart and trucks, marched
down to the warehouse, and demanded the keys,
which he refused to deliver. Upon which one of
them seized him by his neck, and tossed him into the
cart. Upon his finding no quarter, he delivered the
keys, when they tipped up the cart and discharged
him; then opened the warehouse, hoisted out the
coffee themselves, put it into the trucks, and
drove off.
"It was reported that he had personal chastise
ment among them ; but this, I believe, was not true.
A large concourse of men stood amazed, silent spec
tators of the whole transaction."
This delighted John. "You have made me
merry," he writes, "with the female frolic with the
miser. But I hope the females wiU leave off their
attachment to coffee. I assure you the best families
in this place have left off, in a great measure, the
use of West India goods. We must bring our
selves to live upon the produce of our own country.

156 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
What would I give for some of your cider? Milk
has become the breakfast of many of the wealthiest
and genteelest famiUes here."
In August a report was spread that Howe's fleet
was off Cape Ann. Boston took the alarm, and all
was confusion, people packing up and carting out of
town their household goods, military stores, in fact
everything that was portable. Abigail writes :
"Not less than a thousand teams were employed
on Friday and Saturday; and, to their shame be it
told, not a small trunk would they carry under eight
dollars, and many of them, I am told, asked a hun
dred dollars a load; for carting a hogshead of mo
lasses eight miles, thirty dollars. O human nature !
or rather O inhuman nature ! what art thou ? The
report of the fleet's being seen off Cape Ann Friday
night gave me the alarm and though pretty weak,
I set about packing up my things, and on Saturday
removed a load.
"When I looked around me and beheld the boun
ties of Heaven so liberally bestowed, in fine fields
of corn, grass, flax, and English grain, and thought
it might soon become a prey to these merciless rav-
agers, our habitations laid waste, and if our fiight
preserved our Uves, we must return to barren fields,
empty barns, and desolate habitations, if any we find

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 157
(perhaps not where to lay our heads)", my heart
was too full to bear the weight of affliction which I
thought just ready to overtake us, and my body too
weak almost to bear the shock, unsupported by my
better half.
"But, thanks be to Heaven, we are at present re
lieved from our fears respecting ourselves. I now
feel anxious for your safety, but hope prudence will
direct to a proper care and attention to yourselves.
May this second attempt of Howe's prove his utter
ruin. May destruction overtake him as a whirl
wind." John's reply to this letter is characteristic.
"I think I have sometimes observed to you in con
versation, that upon examining the biography of il
lustrious men, you will generally find some female
about them, in the relation of mother or wife or
sister, to whose instigation a great part of their
merit is to be ascribed. You will find a curious ex
ample of this in the case of Aspasia, the wife of
Pericles. She was a woman of the greatest beauty
and the first genius. She taught him, it is said,
his refined maxims of policy, his lofty imperial elo-
I quence, nay, even composed the speeches on which
so great a share of his reputation was founded. . . .
"I wish some of our great men had such wives,.

158 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
By the account in your last letter, it seems the wo
men in Boston begin to think themselves able to
serve their country. What a pity it is that our Gen
erals in the northern districts had not Aspasias to
' their wives!
"I believe the two Howes have not very great
women for wives. If they had, we should suffer
more from their exertions than we do. This is our
good fortune. A woman of good sense would not
let her husband spend five weeks at sea in such a
season of the year. A smart wife would have put
Howe in possession of Philadelphia a long time
ago." A week later he writes :
"If Howe is gone to Charleston, you will have a
little quiet, and enjoy your corn, and rye, and flax,
and hay and other good things, until another sum
mer. But what shall we do for sugar and wine and
rum? Why truly, I believe we must leave them
off. Loaf sugar is only four dollars a pound here,
and brown only a doUar for the meanest sort, and
ten shillings for that a little better. Everybody here
is leaving off loaf sugar, and most are laying aside
brown." StiU the prices rose and rose. On August 29th,
John quotes:

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 159
"Prices current. Four pounds a week for board,
besides finding your own washing, shaving, candles,
Uquors, pipes, tobacco, wood, etc. Thirty shillings
a week for a servant. It ought to be thirty shillings
for a gentleman and four pounds for the servant,
because he generally eats twice as much and makes
twice as much trouble. Shoes, five dollars a pair.
Salt, twenty-seven doUars a bushel. Butter, ten
shiUings a pound. Punch, twenty shillings a bowl.
All the old women and young children are gone
down to the Jersey shore to make salt. Salt water
is boiling all round the coast, and I hope it will in
crease. For it is nothing but heedlessness and shift-
lessness that prevents us from making salt enough
for a supply. But necessity wiU bring us to it. As
to sugar, molasses, rum, etc., we must leave them
off. Whiskey is used here instead of rum, and I
don't see but it is just as good. Of this the wheat
and rye countries can easily distill enough for the
use of the country. If I could get cider I would
be content."
In September he describes at length the making
of molasses out of corn-stalks. "Scarcely a town or
parish within forty miles of us but what has several
miUs at work; and had the experiment been made
a month sooner many thousand barrels would have

i6o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
been made. No less than eighty have been made in
the small town of Manchester. It answers very
well to distiU, and may be boiled down to sugar.
Thus you see," he adds, "we go from step to step
in our improvements. We can live much better than
we deserve within ourselves. Why should we bor
row foreign luxuries? Why should we wish to
bring ruin upon ourselves? I feel as contented
when I have breakfasted upon milk as ever I did
with Hyson or Souchong. Coffee and sugar I use
only as a rarity. There are none of these things
but I could totally renounce. My dear friend knows
that I could always conform to times and circum
stances. As yet I know nothing of hardships. My
children have never cried for bread nor been desti
tute of clothing. Nor have the poor and needy gone
empty from my door, whenever it was in my power
to assist them."
Though the patriot ladies were ready enough to
do without Hyson or Souchong they none the less
greatly desired a cheering cup of something, and
managed to get it without tax or expense. We read
of tea made from ribwort, from sage, from tho-
roughwort, from strawberry and currant leaves.
"Hyperion tea," called by a good patriot, "very deli
cate and most excellent," was made from raspberry

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST i6i
leaves; "Liberty tea" from the four-leaved loose
strife. So there was great boiling and steeping go
ing on, and every housewife who had a garden
patch, or who was near enough the woods and fields
to go out "yarb-gathering," could be sure of a "dish
of tay," without thought of King George or his
myrmidons. There was a great harvest, in this year 1777;
once more Mother Nature proclaimed herself on
the side of Independence. The valleys lay so thick
with corn that they did laugh and sing. Most of
the able-bodied men being in the field (for the war
was now In full swing) there were not enough hands
to gather In the crops. Abigail fears that "If it is
necessary to make any more drafts upon us, the
women must reap the harvests"; iand adds, "I am
wilUng to do my part. I believe I could gather corn,
and husk It ; but I should make a poor figure at dig
ging potatoes."
Indeed, most of the harvesting that autumn was
done by women, aided by old men and young boys.
Delicate ladies, sturdy farmers' wives and daugh
ters, they worked side by side : and we read that
"towards the end of August, at the Forks of
Brandywine, girls were harnessing the ploughs, and
preparing fallows for the seed, on the very fields

i62 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
where, a twelvemonth from that date, a costly crop
of human Ufe was reaped."
The reader of this little book, holding it In his
right hand, should hold in his left a history of the
United States and should have an atlas "handy
by" Far and wide the war spread : campaign followed
campaign : New York, White Plains, Crown Point :
our affair is not with them, but with our faithful
married lovers, still separated by the long leagues
that lie between Massachusetts and Pennsylvania.
I must, howevci, describe briefly what happened in
and neai Philadelphia, where John Adams and his
brother Congressmen were sitting. AU through the
spring and summer Washington had been harrying
the British with varying fortunes. On August 24th,
he entered Philadelphia with his army: four regi
ments of light horse, writes John Adams, four
grand divisions of infantry, and the artillery with
the matrosses. "They marched twelve deep, and yet
took up above two hours in passing by." Washing
ton led the march, and beside him rode the young
Marquis de Lafayette, newly arrived ; a lad of nine
teen, who had left his young wife and his brilliant
circle, to lay his sword at the feet of the American
Republic.

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 163
This "dress-parade" was not a magnificent one.
The soldiers' boots were worn through ; their clothes
were ragged, and of every hue and style. The least
badly dressed among them, we are told, were those
who wore the hunting shirt of brown linen. But
the brown faces above the shirts were strong and
keen, and alight with purpose and resolve; their
horses were in prime condition: the green boughs
they wore lent a touch of color; there was even a
hint of splendor where the Stars and Stripes, newly
assembled, fluttered on the breeze. "Fine and war
like troops," Lafayette pronounced them, "com
manded by officers of zeal and courage." John
Adams writes in sober exultation to Portia:
"The army, upon an accurate inspection of it, I
find to be extremely well armed, pretty well clothed,
and tolerably disciplined. . . . There is such a mix
ture of the subUme and the beautiful together with
the useful in military discipline, that I wonder every
officer we have is not charmed with it." Mr.
Adams, after watching the parade, is convinced that
he, in military life, should be a decisive disciplinar
ian. "I am convinced there is no other effective way
of indulging benevolence, humanity, and the tender
social passions in the army. There Is no other way
of preserving the health and spirits of the men.

i64 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
There is no other way of making them active and
skilful in war; no other way of guarding an army
against destruction by surprises; and no other
method of giving them confidence in one. another,
of making them stand by one another in the hour
of battle. Discipline in an army is like the laws
of civil society."
Dark days followed. Howe had landed with
fresh troops of highly trained soldiers, bent on
taking Philadelphia and driving out the Rebel
Congress. On September eleventh, Mr. Adams
writes :
"The moments are critical here. We know not
but the next will bring us an account of a general
engagement begun, and when once begun, we know
not how It will end, for the battle Is not always to
the strong. . . . But if it should be the will of
Heaven that our army should be defeated, our ar
tillery lost, our best generals killed, and Philadel
phia fall in Mr. Howe's hands, still America is not
conquered." Three days later Brandywine was lost and won;
then came the fatal night of Paoli, when Anthony
Wayne first measured swords with CornwaUis, and
found his own the shorter : and on September 26th,
the British army entered Philadelphia.

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 165
"Don't be anxious about me," John Adams had
written on the 14th, "nor about our great and sa
cred cause. It is the cause of truth and wiU pre
vaU." On the 19th, Congress, yielding to the inevitable,
removed to Yorktown and there continued its work.
Mr. Adams, describing the removal briefly, says, "I
shall avoid everything like history, and make no re
flections." I hasten to follow his example and re
turn to Braintree.
On October 25th, 1777, Abigail writes:
"The joyful news of the surrender (at Sarato
ga) of General Burgoyne and all his army, to our
victorious troops, prompted me to take a ride this
afternoon with my daughter to town, to join, to
morrow, with my friends in thanksgiving and
praise to the Supreme Being who hath so remarka
bly delivered our enemies into our hands. And,
hearing that an express is to go off tomorrow
morning, I have retired to write you a few lines.
I have received no letters from you since you left
Philadelphia, by the post, and but one by any pri
vate hand. I have written you once before this.
Do not fail of writing by the return of this express,
and direct your letters to the care of my uncle, who
has been a kind and faithful hand to me through

i66 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
the whole season, and a constant attendant upon
the post-office."
The leagues were to stretch yet farther between
Portia and her dearest friend. A month after this,
Mr. Adams asked and obtained leave of Congress
to visit his family, mounted his horse, and rode joy
fully home to Braintree. We can well imagine the
rejoicings that greeted his return; but they were
short-lived. He had barely reached home when
word came that he was appointed ambassador to
France, and that the frigate 'Boston was being pre
pared to carry him thither as soon as possible.
Here was a thunderbolt indeed ! Weary and worn
after four years of incessant labor, John Adams had
longed almost passionately for the joys and com
forts of home life and family affection. He weighed
the matter well : the probability of capture on the
high seas, of imprisonment or execution in Eng
land : the needs of his family, which he had been
forced to neglect these four years past. "My chil
dren were growing up without my care in their edu
cation, and all my emoluments as a member of Con
gress for four years had not been sufficient to pay a
laboring man upon my farm. ... On the other
hand, my country was in deep distress and in great
danger. Her dearest interests would be involved In

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 167
the relations she might form with foreign nations.
My own plan of these relations had been deliberately
formed and fully communicated to Congress nearly
two years before. The confidence of my country
was committed to me without my solicitation. My
wife, who had always encouraged and animated
me in all antecedent dangers and perplexities, did
not fail me on this occasion. But she discovered an
inclination to bear me company, with all our chil
dren. This proposal, however, she was soon con
vinced, was too hazardous and imprudent."
Help from France was imperative. Franklin was
already there, but greatly needing stronger sup
port. There was no real question of John Adams' de
cision : it was soon made, his faithful Portia acqui
escing without a murmur. She even agreed to
Johnny's going with his father — or proposed it, we
know not which; and preparations were made for
the departure. Fortunately, the frigate took longer
to prepare than the trunks ; It was not till February
that all was ready, and the final parting came. Had
it been known that even while he was embarking a
treaty was being signed in Paris between France
and America, this parting might have been delayed.
Mr. Adams' diary gives us glimpses of the voy-

i68 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
age, which was a stormy one and threatened other
dangers beside. They fell in with some British
ships, and one of them gave chase.
"When the night approached, the wind died away,
and we were left rolling and pitching in a calm, with
our guns all out, our courses drawn up and every
way prepared for battle; the officers and men ap
peared in good spirits and Captain Tucker said his
orders were to carry me to France, and to take any
prizes that might fall in his way ; he thought it his
duty, therefore, to avoid fighting, especially with
an unequal force, if he could, but if he could not
avoid an engagement he would give them something
that should make them remember him. I said, and
did all in my power, to encourage the ofiicers and
men to fight them to the last extremity. My motives
were more urgent than theirs; for it will easily be
believed that it would have been more eligible for
me to be killed on board the Boston, or sunk to
the bottom in her, than to be taken prisoner. I
sat in the cabin, at the windows in the stern, and
saw the enemy gaining upon us very fast, she ap
pearing to have a breeze of wind, while we had
none. Our powder, cartridges, and balls, were
placed by the guns, and everything ready to begin
the action. Although it was calm on the surface

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 169
of the sea, where we lay, the heavens had been
gradually overspread with black clouds, and the
wind began to spring up. Our ship began to move.
The night came on, and it was soon dark. We lost
sight of our enemy, who did not appear to me very
ardent to overtake us. But the wind Increased to a
hurricane." The hurricane proved a terrible one. The diary
tells us:
"It would be fruitless to attempt a description of
what I saw, heard, and felt, during these three days
and nights. To describe the ocean, the waves, the
winds; the ship, her motions, rollings, wringings,
and agonies; the sailors, their countenances, lan
guage, and behavior, is impossible. No man could
keep upon his legs and nothing could be kept In its
place; an universal wreck of everything in all parts
of the ship, chests, casks, bottles, etc. No place or
person was dry. On one of these nights, a thunder
bolt struck three men upon deck, and wounded one
of them a little by a scorch upon his shoulder; it
also struck our maintop-mast. . . .
"It is a great satisfaction to me, however, to
recollect that I was myself perfectly calm, during
the whole. I found, by the opinion of the people
aboard, and of the captain himself, that we were in

170 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
danger, and of this I was certain also, from my own
observation : but I thought myself in the way of
my duty, and I did not repent of my voyage. I
confess I often regretted that I had brought my
son. I was not so clear that it was my duty to
expose him as myself, but I had been led to it by
the child's inclination, and by the advice of all my
friends. My Johnny's behavior gave me a satis
faction that I cannot express; fully sensible of our
danger, he was constantly endeavoring to bear it
with a_ manly patience, very attentive to me, and
his thoughts constantly running in a serious strain."
A few days later came a yet more thrilling event.
The log of the Boston says :
"Saw a ship to the south-east standing to the
westward. Asked the favor of the Hon. John
Adams to chase, which was immediately granted.
Made sail and gave chase. At 3 p. m. came up with
the chase, gave her a gun and she returned me
three, one shot of which carried away my mizzen
yard. She immediately struck. Out boat. Got the
prisoners on board. She proved the ship Martha
from London, bound to New York. I ordered a
prize-master on board, intending to send her to
France, but on consulting Mr. Adams, he thought
most advisable to send her to America."

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 171
Thus Commodore Tucker, comander of the Bos
ton, brief and business-like. Mr. Adams notes that
"she was a letter of marque, with fourteen guns.
She fired upon us, and one of her shot went through
our mizzen yard. I happened to be upon the quar
ter deck, and In the direction from the ship to the
yard, so that the ball went directly over my head.
We, upon this, turned our broadside, which the In
stant she saw she struck. Captain Tucker very pru
dently ordered his officers not to fire."
"I happened to be upon the quarter deck!" Mr.
Adams, what were you doing on the quarter deck?
You certainly had no business there during a battle.
Log and diary are equally discreet, but in his later
years Commodore Tucker used to tell the story of
that hour; how on discovering the enemy's ship,
"neither he nor Mr. Adams could resist the tempta
tion to engage, although against the dictates of pru
dent duty. Tucker, however, stipulated that Mr.
Adams should remain in the lower part of the ship,
as a place of safety. But no sooner had the battle
commenced, than he was seen on deck, with a
musket in his hands, fighting as a common marine.
The Commodore peremptorily ordered him below;
but called Instantly away, it was not until consider
able time had elapsed, that he discovered this public

172 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
minister still at his post, intently engaged in firing
upon the enemy. Advancing, he exclaimed, 'Why
are you here, sir? I am commanded by the Conti
nental Congress to carry you in safety to Europe,
and I will do it;' and, seizing him in his arms, for
cibly carried him from the scene of danger."
I tmst Master Johnny was safe in his cabin while
all this was going on : be very sure that Portia was
never told of it, or at least not till long afterward.
She, poor lady, was meantime cheering herself as
well as she could ; visiting the French fleet, just ar
rived In Boston Harbor, and entertaining some of
its officers, who, she thought, were being neglected
In Boston town.
"Generals Heath and Hancock have done their
part, but very few. If any, private families have
any acquaintance with them. Perhaps I feel more
anxious to have them distinguished, on account of
the near and dear connections I have among them.
It would gratify me much, if I had it in my power,
to entertain every officer in the fleet."
This letter was written (I think) on a tired or
discouraged day, for in it we actually find Portia re
proaching her John, a strange thing indeed. His
first letter had been all too short for her anxious
heart.

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 173
"In the very few lines I have received from you,
not the least mention is made that you have ever
received a line from me. I have not been so parsi-
inonious as my friend, — perhaps I am not so pru
dent ; but I cannot take my pen, with my heart over
flowing, and not give utterance to some of the
abundance which is in it. Could you, after a thou
sand fears and anxieties, long expectation, and pain
ful suspense, be satisfied with my teUing you that
I was well, that I wished you were with me, that
my daughter sent her duty, that I had ordered some
articles for you, which I hoped would arrive, etc.,
etc.? By Heaven, If you could, you have changed
hearts with some frozen Laplander, or made a
voyage to a region that has chUled every drop of
your blood ; but I will restrain a pen already, I fear,
too rash, nor shall It tell you how much I have
suffered from this appearance of — inattention."
She adds that the articles sent by Captain Tucker
have "arrived safe, and wiU be of great service to
me. Our money Is very little better than blank
paper. It takes forty dollars to purchase a barrel
of cider; fifty pounds lawful for a hundred of
sugar, and fifty dollars for a hundred of flour; four
dollars per day for a laborer, and find him, which
wiU amount to four more. You wiU see, by biUs

174 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
drawn before the date of this, that I had taken
the method which I was happy in finding you had
directed me to. I shall draw for the rest as I find
my situation requires. No article that can be named,
foreign or domestic, but what costs more than dou
ble in hard money what it once sold for."
Poor Portia! poor John! Some of the letters
she longed for were taken by the enemy and thrown
overboard. John was writing constantly, and Por
tia's complaining letter was not a consoling one to
receive In "Europe, the dullest place in the world,"
as he calls it. On December 2d, 1778, he writes :
"For Heaven's sake, my dear, don't Indulge a
thought that it is possible for me to neglect or for
get all that is dear to me in this world. It is im
possible for me to write as I did in America. What
should I write? It is not safe to write anything
that one is not willing should go into all the news
papers of the world. I know not by whom to write.
I never know what conveyance is safe. ... I
know nothing of many vessels that go from the sea
ports, and if I knew of all, there are some that I
should not trust. Notwithstanding all this, I have
written to you not much less than fifty letters. I
am astonished that you have received no more. But
almost every vessel has been taken. . . . God knows

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 175
I don't spend my time In Idleness, or In gazing at
curiosities. I never wrote more letters, however
empty they may have been. But by what I hear,
they have been all, or nearly all, taken or sunk.
My friends complain that they have not received
letters from me. I may as well complain. I have
received scarcely any letters from America. I have
written three where I have received one."
On Sunday evening, December 27th, Abigail
writes a letter that makes our hearts ache with her.
"How lonely are my days 1 how solitary are my
nights! secluded from all society but my two little
boys and my domestics. By the mountains of snow
which surround me, I could almost fancy myself
in Greenland. We have had four of the coldest
days I ever knew, and they were followed by the
severest snow-storm I ever remember. The wind,
blowing like a hurricane for fifteen or twenty hours,
rendered it Impossible for man or beast to live
abroad, and has blocked up the roads so that they
are Impassable. A week ago I parted with my
daughter, at the request of our Plymouth friends,
to spend a month with them; so that I am solitary
indeed. "Can the best of friends recollect that for four
teen years past I have not spent a whole winter

176 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
alone? Some part of the dismal season has here
tofore been mitigated and softened by the social
converse and participation of the friend of my
youth. "How insupportable the Idea that three thousand
miles and the vast ocean now divide us ! but divide
only our persons, for the heart of my friend is in
the bosom of his partner. More than half a score
of years has so riveted it there, that the fabric which
contains it must crumble Into dust ere the particles
can be separated ; for
In one fate, our hearts, our fortunes.
And our beings blend.
"I cannot describe to you how much I was af
fected the other day with a Scotch song, which
was sung to me by a young lady in order to divert
a melancholy hour; but it had quite a different ef
fect, and the native simplicity of it had all the
power of a well-wrought tragedy. When I could
conquer my sensibility I begged the song, and Mas
ter Charles has learned it, and consoles his mamma
by singing it to her. I wiU inclose it to you. It
has beauties in It to me which an indifferent person
would not feel, perhaps.
His very foot has music in 't.
As he comes up the stairs.

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 177
"How oft has my heart danced to the sound of
tiiat music!
And shall I see his face again ?
And shall I hear him speak
"Gracious Heaven ! hear and answer my daily pe
tition, by banishing all my grief.
"I am sometimes quite discouraged from writing.
So many vessels are taken that there is Uttle chance
of a letter's reaching your hands. That I meet
with so few retums is a circumstance that lies heavy
at my heart. If this finds Its way to you, it will
go by the Alliance. By her I have written before.
She has not yet sailed, and I love to amuse myself
with my pen, and pour out some of the tender sen
timents of a heart overflowing with affection, not
for the eye of a cruel enemy, who, no doubt, would
ridicule every humane and social sentiment, long
ago grown callous to the finer sensibilities, but for
the sympathetic heart that beats in unison with
"Portia's."
John replies to this :
"Dr. J. is transcribing your Scotch song, which
is a charming one. Oh, my leaping heart ! '
"I must not write a word to you about politics,
because you are a woman.
"What an offense have I committed ! A woman !

178 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"I shall soon make It up. I think women better
than men, in general, and I know that you can
keep a secret as well as any man whatever. But
the world don't know this. Therefore If I were to
write my sentiments to you, and the letter should
be caught and hitched into a newspaper, the world
X would say I was not to be trusted with a secret."
To us, it need be no secret that there were di
visions In the American Legation at Paris. Frank
Un was at odds with his colleagues, who seem to
have been more hindrance than help to him. More
over, Congress, In the excitement df the treaty,
forgot, for a time, all about John Adams and his
mission. In short, he came too late for the fair,
found no orders, and little to do, save talk with
the old philosopher and the Comte de Vergennes.
Now and then the diary gives us a sidelight on
Franklin. "Dr. Franklin, upon my saying the other day that
I fancied he did not exercise so much as he was
wont, answered, 'Yes, I walk a league every day
in my chamber; I walk quick, and for an hour, so
that I go a league; I make a point of religion of it.'
I replied, 'That as the commandment, "thou shalt
not kill," forbids a man to kiU himself as well as his
neighbor. It was manifestly a breach of the sixth

INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 179
commandment not to exercise; so that he might
easily prove it to be a religious point.' "
John Adams could not be Idle. "I cannot eat pen
sions and sinecures," he writes: "they would stick
In my throat." He was In no mood to foUow Frank
lin's advice and wait quietly for further orders.
There was nothing for him to do, and he would
go home In the first available ship. Accordingly,
on June 17th, 1779, he sailed on the Sensible, with
son John beside him, and that episode was closed.
All this time the war was going on and prices
were rising. Abigail "blushes" whUe giving John
the prices current : "All butcher's meat from a doUar
to eight shiUings per pound; corn twenty-five dol
lars, rye thirty, per bushel; flour fifty pounds per
hundred; potatoes ten dollars per bushel; butter
twelve shillings a pound, cheese eight ; sugar twelve
shillings a pound; molasses twelve dollars per gal
lon; labor six and eight doUars a day; a common
cow from sixty to seventy pounds ; and all English
goods in proportion."
By March, labor was eight dollars per day, with
twelve dollars in prospect; goods of aU kinds at
such a price that Abigail hardly dares mention it.
"Linens are sold at twenty dollars per yard;
the most ordinary sort of calicoes at thirty and

i8o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
forty; broadcloths at forty pounds per yard; West
India goods full as high; molasses at twenty dol
lars per gallon ; sugar four dollars per pound, bohea
tea at forty dollars ; and our own produce in pro
portion ; butcher's meat at six and eight shillings per
pound; board at fifty and sixty dollars per week."
She adds:
"In contemplation of my situation, I am some
times thrown into an agony of distress. Distance,
dangers, and oh, I cannot name all the fears which
sometimes oppress me, and harrow up my soul. Yet
must the common lot of man one day take place,
whether we dweU in our own native land or are far
distant from it. That we rest under the shadow of
the Almighty is the consolation to which I resort,
and find that comfort which the world cannot give.
If He sees best to give me back my friend, or to
preserve my life to him, it will be so."
She little thought that even whUe she wrote, her
friend was spreading his wings — or rather, the
broad white wings of the frigate Sensible, for his
homeward flight.

CHAPTER IX
MR. ADAMS ABROAD
TN AUGUST, 1779, Mr. Adams retumed, and
A all was joy; but again the joy was short-lived.
There seemed really no end to the trials of these
two loving hearts. In November, Mr. Adams was
again ordered to France on public service, and sailed
in November. This time he took not only John
but little Charles with him, and Abigail's heart was
doubly desolate.
"Dearest of Friends, — My habitation, how
desolate It looks! my table, I sit down to it, but
cannot swallow my food! Oh, why was I born
with so much sensibility, and why, possessing it,
have I so often been called to struggle with it? I
wish to see you again. Were I sure you would not
be gone, I could not withstand the temptation of
coming to town, though my heart would suffer
over again the cruel torture of separation.
"What a cordial to my dejected spirits were the
few lines last night received ! And does your heart
181

i82 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
forebode that we shaU again be happy? My hopes
and fears rise alternately. I cannot resign more
than I do, unless life itself were called for. My
dear sons, I cannot think of them without a tear.
Little do they know the feelings of a mother's heart.
May they be good and useful as their father ! Then
they will In some measure reward the anxiety of a
mother. My tenderest love to them. Remember
me also to Mr. Thaxter, whose civilities and kind
ness I shall miss.
"God Almighty bless and protect my dearest
friend, and, in his own time, restore him to the af
fectionate bosom of "Portia."
It was all the more lonely for Mrs. Adams that
the winter was a severe one : "the sublimest winter"
she ever saw. In December and January there fell
the highest snow known in forty years; all through
January and February, the Bay was frozen over, so
that no vessel could pass through for a month.
"We had neither snow, rain, nor the least thaw. It
has been remarkably healthy, and we have lived
along very comfortably, though many people have
suffered greatly for food."
In the long winter days, how eagerly Mrs. Adams

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 183
must have watched for the incoming mails! I do
not know what were the postal arrangements of
Braintree; very likely there were none. In Boston,
the Post Office was opened every Monday morning
from the middle of March to the middle of Sep
tember, "at 7 of the clock, to deliver out all letters
that do come by the post tiU twelve o'clock; from
twelve to two o'clock, being dinner-time, no office
kept ; and from two o'clock in the afternoon to six
o'clock the office will be open to take in all letters
to go by the Southern and Western post."
A single letter cost one shilling to send ; this rate
held to the middle of the nineteenth century. Be
side letters, the faithful Portia sent to her John all
the papers and news-letters she could lay hands on.
Boston by this time had several newspapers. The
first of these, appearing as early as 1704, was the
Boston News-Letter, "Published by Authority."
For some time this little sheet held the field alone ;
but In 172 1 appeared the Boston Gazette, and the
New England Courant. In both these, James
Franklin, Benjamin's elder brother, had a hand;
Indeed, the Courant was his own paper, started
when he was discharged from the staff of the
Gazette. He seems to have been a quarrelsome
fellow, was twice arraigned for contempt, and once

i84 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Imprisoned. Benjamin, then a boy of sixteen, as
tute from his cradle, contributed by stealth to the
Courant more or less; but slipped away to Phila
delphia without getting into trouble.
These papers, doubtless, Portia sent regularly to
her John, who received them as often as Fate or
the enemy allowed.
Now and then Mrs. Adams took her chaise and
went into town to make some visits In Boston or
Cambridge. "Present my compliments to Mr. Dana," she
writes. "TeU him I have called upon his lady, and
we enjoyed an afternoon of sweet communion. I
find she would not be averse to taking a voyage,
should he be continued abroad. She groans most
bitterly, and Is irreconcilable to his absence. I am
a mere philosopher to her. I am inured, but not
hardened, to the painful portion. Shall I live to
see it otherwise?"
This was written in July, 1780. We may fancy
Madam Abigail setting out on this expedition,
stately and demure in hoop petticoat and high-heeled
shoes. We cannot be sure whether she wore a Leg
horn hat or a calash. Here I pause for a mo
ment; I remember a calash, in my childhood. It
was made of thin green silk, shirred on pieces of

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 185
rattan or whalebone, placed two or three inches
apart. These were drawn together at the back by
a cape, and thus, bent into hoop-shape, could be
drawn so far over the face as to cover it entirely.
The "bashful bonnet," the thing was called; cer
tainly, no headdress ever was uglier, but It must
have been "matchless for the complexion," as
Madam Patti says of a certain well-known soap.
On the whole, knowing what the calash looked
like, I should prefer to think that Madam Abigail
wore a Leghorn hat over her fine dark hair. Leg
horns were costly. I have heard of their costing
twenty-five or even fifty dollars : but they lasted
for years and years. It was not till some years
after this that American women began to make
their own bonnet straw. It became the rage, both
here and In England, and women vied with each
other in the amount and quality of their "straw-
work." Hats and bonnets were not enough ; women
wore "straw-coats" or paillasses; these were made
of "sarcenet, caUco, or linen, and ornamented pro
fusely with straw." A writer In the European
Magazine exclaims :
"Straw! straw! everything Is ornamented In
straw, from the cap to the shoe-buckles; Ceres Is
the favorite, not only of the female but the male

i86 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
part of the fashionable world, for the gentlemen's
waistcoats are ribbed with straw."
Here is a long digression; let us hope that Mrs.
Dana gave Mrs. Adams a good dish of tea and
that she went home refreshed.
There are but few letters of 1780: probably many
were lost. In October Mrs. Adams again quotes
the current prices, for which her husband frequently
asks. "You tell me to send you prices current. I wUl
aim at It. Corn is now thirty pounds, rye twenty-
seven, per bushel. Flour from a hundred and forty
to a hundred and thirty per hundred. Beef, eight
dollars per pound; mutton, nine; lamb, six, seven,
and eight. Butter, twelve dollars per pound ; cheese,
ten. Sheep's wool, thirty doUars per pound; flax,
twenty. West India articles : sugar, from a hun
dred and seventy to two hundred pounds per hun
dred; molasses, forty-eight dollars per gallon; tea,
ninety ; coffee, twelve ; cotton-wool, thirty per pound.
Exchange from seventy to seventy-five for hard
money.\ 'BiUs at fifty. Money scarce; plenty of
goods ; enormous taxes."
And what were young John and Charles doing,
far from home and mother? They were studying,
and Improving themselves in every proper way. In

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 187
December, 1780, they were sent to Leyden, which
Mr. Adams thinks "perhaps as leamed a University
as any in Europe." He notes In his diary of Jan
uary, 1 78 1, "John is transcribing a Greek Gram
mar ... of his master's composition, and Charles
a Latin one; John is also transcribing a treatise
on Roman antiquities. . . . After dinner they went
to the Rector Magnificus to be matriculated Into
the University; Charles was found to be too young,
none under twelve years of age being admitted;
John was admitted after making a declaration that
he would do nothing against the laws of the uni
versity, city, or land."
I have to exercise stern self-control to keep from
quoting too much from Mr. Adams' diary: after
all, it is his wife's story that I am trying to tell.
Yet — surely never were husband and wife more
entirely one — I must indulge myself, and my read
ers, with his account of the Royal Family of France
at supper. He did not admire Queen Marie Antoin
ette as much as Edmund Burke did, and does not
scruple to say so.
"She was an object too sublime and beautiful for
my dull pen to describe. I leave this enterprise to
Mr. Burke. But, in his description, there is more
df the orator than of the philosopher. Her dress

i88 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
was every thing that art and wealth could make It.
One of the maids of honor told me she had dia
monds upon her person to the value of eighteen
millions of livres; and I always thought her ma
jesty much beholden to her dress. Mr. Burke saw
her probably but once. I have seen her fifty times
perhaps, and In all the varieties of her dresses. She
had a fine complexion. Indicating perfect health,
and was a handsome woman In her face and figure.
But I have seen beauties much superior, both in
countenance and form. In France, England, and
America." He goes on to describe the spectacle of the grand
convert: "I was selected, and summoned indeed, from
all my company, and ordered to a seat close beside
the royal family. The seats on both sides of the
hall, arranged like the seats in a theatre, were all
full of ladies of the first rank and fashion in the
kingdom, and there was no room or place for me
but in the midst of them. It was not easy to make
room, for one more person. However, room was
made, and I was situated between two ladies, with
£pws and ranks of ladies above and below me, and
on the right hand and on the left, and ladies only.
My dress was a decent French dress, becoming the

John Adams
Painted by Gilbert Stuart

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 189
station I held, but not to be compared with the
gold, and diamonds, and embroidery, about me.
I could neither speak, nor understand the language
in a manner to support a conversation, but I had
soon the satisfaction to find It was a silent meeting,
and that nobody spoke a word, but the royal family,
to each other, and they said very little. The eyes
of all the assembly were turned upon me, and I
felt sufficiently humble and mortified, for I was not
a proper object for the criticisms of such a com
pany I found myself gazed at, as we In America
used to gaze at the sachems who came to make
speeches to us In Congress, but I thought it very
hard if I could not command as much power of
face as one of the chiefs of the Six Nations, and,
therefore, determined that I would assume a cheer
ful countenance, enjoy the scene around me, and
observe it as coolly as an astronomer contemplates
the stars. . . . The king was the royal carver for
himself and all his family. His majesty ate like a
king, and made a royal supper of solid beef, and
other things In proportion. The queen took a large
spoonful of soup, and displayed her fine person and
graceful manners. In alternately looking at the com-
.pany in various parts of the haU, and ordering sev
eral kinds of seasoning to be brought to her, by

190 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
which she fitted her supper to her taste. When this
was accomplished, her majesty exhibited to the ad
miring spectators, the magnificent spectacle of a
great queen swallowing her royal supper in a single
spoonful all at once. This was aU performed Uke
perfect clock work; not a feature of her face, nor
a motion of any part of her person, especially her
arm and her hand, could be criticized as out of or
der. A little, and but a little, conversation seemed
to pass among the royal personages of both sexes,
but in so low a voice, that nothing could be under
stood by any of the audience.
"The officers about the king's person brought him
many letters and papers, from time to time, while
he was at table. He looked at these. Some of them
he read, or seemed to read, and returned them to
the same officers who brought them, or some others.
"These ceremonies and shows may be condemned
by philosophy and ridiculed by comedy, with great
reason. Yet the common sense of mankind has
never adopted the rigid decrees of the former, nor
ever sincerely laughed with the latter. Nor has
the religion of nations, in any age, approved of
the dogmas or the satires. On the contrary, it has
always overborne them all, and carried its inven
tions of such exhibitions to a degree of subUmity

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 191
and pathos, which has frequently transported the
greatest infidels out of themselves. Something of
the kind every government and every religion has,
and must have; and the business and duty of law
givers and philosophers is to endeavor to prevent
them from being carried too far."
Mr. Adams is full of anxieties :
"I am sorry to learn you have a sum of paper.
How could you be so imprudent? You must be
frugal, I assure you. Your children will be poorly
off. I can but barely live In the manner that is in
dispensably demanded of me by everybody. Living
is dear indeed here. My chUdren will not be so
well left by their father as he was by his. They
will be infected with the examples and habits and
tastes for expensive living without the means. He
was not. My children shall never have the smallest
soil of dishonor or disgrace brought upon them
by their father, no, not to please ministers, kings, or
nations. At the expense of a little of this, my chil
dren might perhaps ride at their ease through life,
but dearly as I love them, they shall live in the serv
ice of their country, in her navy, her army, or even
out of either in the extremest degree of poverty,
before I wIU depart in the smallest Iota from my
sentiments of honor and delicacy; for I, even I,

192 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
have sentiments of delicacy as exquisite as the
proudest minister that ever served a monarch. They
may not be exactly like those of some ministers. . . .
"General Washington has done me great honor
and much public service by sending me authentic
accounts of his own and General Greene's last great
actions. They are in the way to negotiate peace.
It lies wholly with them. No other ministers but
they and their colleagues in the army can accom
plish the great event.
"I am keeping house, but I want a housekeeper.
What a fine affair It would be, if we could flit
across the Atlantic as they say the angels do from
planet to planet! I would dart to Penn's Hill and
bring you over on my wings; but, alas, we must
keep house separately for some time. But one thing
I am determined on. If God should please to re
store me once more to your fireside, I will never
again leave it without your ladyship's company —
no, not even to go to Congress to Philadelphia, and
there I am determined to go, if I can make interest
enough to get chosen, whenever I return. I would
give a million sterling that you were here; and I
could afford it as weU as Great Britain can the
thirty miUions she must spend, the ensuing year, to
complete her own ruin. Farewell, farewell."

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 193
I like to picture John Adams as he wrote those
words : sitting erect at his desk, his chin up, his eyes
flashing. So, I fancy, he may have looked. In his
"decent French dress" in the crowd of court ladies,
that evening at VersaUles.
More and more as time went on, did the two
friends long for each other. I say "friends," be
cause It Is their own word ; most of the letters begin
with it. Abigail writes :
"My dearest Friend, — The family are all re
tired to rest; the busy scenes of the day are over;
a day which I wished to have devoted in a particu
lar manner to my dearest friend ; but company fall
ing In prevented It, nor could I claim a moment until
this silent watch of the night.
"Look (is there a dearer name than friend?
Think of It for me), look to the date of this letter,
and tell me what are the thoughts which arise In
your mind. Do you not recollect that eighteen years
have mn their circuit since we pledged our mutual
faith to each other, and the hymeneal torch was
lighted at the altar of Love? Yet, yet It burns with
unabating fervor. Old Ocean has not quenched it,
nor old Time smothered it in this bosom. It cheers
me In the lonely hour; It comforts me even In the
gloom which sometimes possesses my mind."

194 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
She begs to be allowed to join him In Europe.
"I have repeatedly expressed my desire to make
a part of your family. But 'Will you come and
see me?' cannot be taken In that serious light I
should choose to consider an Invitation from those
I love. I do not doubt but that you would be glad
to see me, but I know you are apprehensive of dan
gers and fatigues. I know your situation may be
unsettled, and it may be more permanent than I
wish It. Only think how the words, 'three, four,
and five years' absence,' sound ! They sink Into my
heart with a weight I cannot express. Do you look
like the miniature you sent? I cannot think so.
But you have a better likeness, I am told. Is that
designed for me? Gracious Heavens! restore to
me the original, and I care not who has the
shadow." John was fully convinced that Portia would not
Uke Paris, and that it would not agree with her
or the children. "It would be most for the happi
ness of my family," he says, "and most for the
honor of our country, that I should come home.
I have, therefore, this day written -to Congress a
resignation of all my employments, and as soon as
I shall receive their acceptance of it, I will em
bark for America, which wiU be in the spring or

MR. ADAMS ABROAD 195
beginning of summer. Our son Is now on his jour
ney from Petersburg, through Sweden, Denmark,
and Germany, and If it please God he come safe,
he shall come with me, and I pray we may all meet
once more, you and I never to separate again."
It was about this time that "a person" asked Mrs.
Adams, "If you had known that Mr. Adams should
have remained so long abroad, would you have con
sented that he should have gone ?"
"I recollected myself a moment," says Portia,
"and then spoke the real dictates of my heart: 'If
I had known, sir, that Mr. Adams could have ef
fected what he has done, I would not only have
submitted to the absence I have endured, painful as
it has been, but I would not have opposed it, even
though three years more should be added to the
number (which Heaven avert!). I feel a pleasure
in being able to sacrifice my selfish passions to the
general good, and In Imitating the example which
has taught me to consider myself and family but as
the small dust of the balance, when compared with
the great community.' "
And now the long sepafation was to end. In De
cember, 1782, Mr. Adams writes:
"Whether there should be peace or war, I shall
come home in the summer. As soon as I shall re-

196 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
ceive from Congress their acceptance of the resig
nation of all my employments, which I have trans
mitted many ways, I shall embark, and you may de
pend upon a good domestic husband for the re
mainder of my life, if it is the will of Heaven that
I should once more meet you. My promises are not
lightly made with anybody. I have never broken
one made to you, and I will not begin at this time
of Ufe.
"My chUdren, I hope, will once at length discover
that they have a father who is not unmindful of
their welfare. They have had too much reason
to think themselves forgotten, although I know that
an anxiety for their happiness has corroded me
every day of my life.
"With a tenderness which words cannot express,
I am theirs and yours forever."
The war was over; the child Independence had
grown to full stature, and the Republic took her
place among the nations. On the 21st of January,
1783, articles of peace were drawn up between
Great Britain, France, and the United States.

CHAPTER X
THE COURT OF ST. JAMES
NOT yet, Abigail! The treaty of peace was
signed on the 21st of January, 1783; but
Congress refused to John Adams the leisure he had
so amply earned, and so ardently desired. A treaty
of commerce must be established between Great
Britain and the United States, and he, with Ben
jamin Franklin and John Jay, must make It. The
faithful patriot accepted the new charge without
hesitation, but this time his body rebeUed. He fell
dangerously ill of a fever, brought on by anxiety
and over-work. For some days his life hung in
the balance: but he could not die then. His work
was not done. Barely recovered, while still weak
and suffering, he hastened to London, to take up
the new task. This accomplished, another waited
him. Orders came for him to go at once to Hol
land, to obtain a loan for the new Republic. This,
he felt, might well be the last straw for him; yet
he did not falter. 197

198 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"It was winter. My health was very delicate.
A journey and voyage to Holland at that season
would very probably put an end to my labors. I
scarcely saw a possibility of surviving it. Never
theless, no man knows what he can bear till he
tries. A few moment's reflection determined me;
for although I had little hope of getting the money,
having experienced so many difficulties before, yet
making the attempt and doing all in my power
would discharge my own conscience, and ought to
satisfy my responsibUity to the public."
Here follows a detailed account of the trip, which
I exercise much self-control not to quote. He adds :
"I had ridden on horseback often to Congress,
over roads and across ferries, of which the pres
ent generation have no idea; and once, in 1777, in
the dead of winter, from Braintree to Baltimore,
five hundred miles, upon a trotting horse, as Dean
Swift boasted that he had done or could do. I
had been three days in the Gulf Stream, in 1778,
In a furious hurricane and a storm of thunder and
lightning, which struck down our men upon deck,
and cracked our mainmast; when the oldest officers
and stoutest seamen stood aghast, at their last pray
ers, dreading every moment that a butt would start,
and aU perish. I had crossed the Atlantic, in 1779,

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 199
in a leaky ship, with perhaps four hundred men on
board, who were scarcely able, with two large
pumps going all the twenty-four hours, to keep
water from fiUing the hold, in hourly danger, for
twenty days together, of foundering at sea. I had
passed the mountains in Spain, in the winter, among
ice and snow, partly on mule-back and partly on
foot; yet I never suffered so much in any of these
situations as in that jaunt from Bath to Amster
dam, In January, 1784. Nor did any of those ad
ventures ever do such lasting injuries to my health.
I never got over it till my return home, in 1788."
StlU the tasks multiplied ; stiU the HUls of Diffi
culty rose before the devoted statesman. Finally,
in the summer of 1784, seeing his return home in
definitely postponed, he dismissed his anxieties and
summoned his faithful Portia to his side. She sailed
on the 20th of June, on the ship Active.
It was her first voyage, and she did not enjoy
it. There are no more letters to her "dearest friend" ;
the faithful pair were not to be separated again for
any length of time; but she writes a Uttle every
day to her sister, Mrs. Cranch, and does full jus
tice to the discomforts of life In a small sailing
vessel. "Of this I am very sure, that no lady would ever

200 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
wish a second time to try the sea, were the objects
of her pursuit within the reach of a land journey.
I have had frequent occasion, since I came on board,
to recollect an observation of my best friend's, 'that
no being in nature was so disagreeable as a lady at
sea,' and this recollection has in a great measure re
concUed me to the thought of being at sea without
him ; for one would not wish, my dear sister, to be
thought of in that Ught by those, to whom we would
wish to appear in our best array. The decency and
decorum of the most delicate female must in some
measure yield to the necessities of nature; and. If
you have no female capable of rendering you the
least assistance, you will feel grateful to any one
who will feel for you, and reUeve or compassionate
your sufferings."
She was woefully seasick at first, poor lady. Af
ter a time she felt better and writes : "The ship has
gradually become less irksome to me. If our cook
was but tolerably clean, I could relish my food. But
he Is a great, dirty, lazy negro, with no more knowl
edge of cookery than a savage, nor any kind of
order in the distribution of his dishes; but on they
come, higgledy-piggledy, with a leg of pork all
bristly; a quarter of an hour after, a pudding, or
perhaps, a pair of roast fowls, first of all, and then

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 201
will follow one by one a piece of beef, and when
dinner Is nearly completed, a plate of potatoes.
Such a fellow is a real imposition upon the pas
sengers. But gentlemen know but little about the
matter, and If they can get enough to eat five times
a day, all goes well. We ladies have not eaten, upon
our whole passage, more than just enough to satisfy
nature, or to keep body and soul together."
Her first impression of England was more ex
citing than agreeable. Driving to London in a post
chaise, "from Chatham we proceeded on our way
as fast as possible, wishing to pass Blackheath be
fore dark. Upon this road, a gentleman alone in a
chaise passed us, and very soon a coach before us
stopped, and there was a hue and cry, 'A robbery, a
robbery!' The man In the chaise was the person
robbed, and this In open day with carriages con
stantly passing. We were not a little alarmed, and
everyone was concealing his money. Every place
we passed and every post chaise we met was crying
out, 'A robbery!' Where the thing Is so common,
I was surprised to see such an alarm. The robber
was pursued and taken In about two miles, and' we
saw the poor wretch, ghastly and horrible, brought
along on foot: his horse ridden by a person who
took him, who also had his pistol. He looked like

202 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
a youth of twenty only, attempting to lift his hat,
and looked despair. You can form some idea of
my feelings when they told him, 'Ay, you have but
a short time ; the assize sits next month ; and then,
my lad, you swing.' Though every robber may de
serve death, yet to exult over the wretched is what
our country is not accustomed to. Long may it be
free from such villanies, and long may it preserve
a commiseration for the wretched."
At last she found herself in London, at Osborne's
new family hotel, "Adelphi," where rooms had been
engaged for her. Mr. Adams was at the Hague,
detained by public business ; Portia must be patient
as she might.
"Here we have," she writes, "a handsome draw
ing-room, genteelly furnished, and a large lodging-
room. We are furnished with a cook, chamber
maid, waiter, etc., for three guineas a week; but in
this is not included a mouthful of victuals or drink,
all of which is to be paid for separately."
There was now little leisure for writing, for call
ers came thick and fast. Mr. This, Mrs. That, Dr.
the Other, all thronged to pay their respects. Many
of these were former friends and neighbors of the
Tory persuasion, living in more or less willing ex
ile. "I hardly know how to think myself out of my

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 203
own country, I see so many Americans about me."
She knows that her sister will desire news of the
fashions. "I am not a little surprised to find dress, unless
upon public occasion, so little regarded here. The
gentlemen are very plainly dressed, and the ladies
much less so than with us. 'Tis true, you must put
a hoop on and have your hair dressed, but a com
mon straw hat, no cap, with only a ribbon upon the
crown. Is thought sufficient to go Into company.
Muslins are much in taste; no silks but lutestrings
worn; but send not to London for any article you
want; you may purchase any thing you can name
much lower In Boston. . . . Our country, alas ! our
country! they are extravagant to astonishment in
entertainments compared with what Mr. Smith and
Mr. Storer tell me of this. You will not find at a
gentleman's table more than two dishes of meat,
though invited several days beforehand. ... At
my lodgings I am as quiet as at any place in Bos
ton; nor do I feel as If It could be any other place
than Boston; Dr. Clark visits us every day; says
he cannot feel at home anywhere else; declares he
has not seen a handsome woman since he came into
the city; that every old woman looks like Mrs.
H  , and every young one like — like the D — I.

204 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
They paint here nearly as much as in France, but
with more art. The head-dress disfigures them in
the eye of an American. I have seen many ladies,
but not one elegant one since I came; there Is not
to me that neatness In their appearance, which you
see In our ladies.
"The American ladies are much admired here by
the gentlemen, I am told, and in truth I wonder not
at it. O, my country, my country ! preserve, pre
serve the little purity and simplicity of manners you
yet possess. BeUeve me, they are jewels of ines
timable value ; the softness, peculiarly characteristic
of our sex, and which Is so pleasing to the gentle
men. Is whoUy laid aside here for the masculine at
tire and manners of Amazonians."
A few days later, she describes one of the nu
merous dinners to which she was Invited.
"After we had dined, which was in company with
five American gentlemen, we retired to the drawing
room, and there I talked off the lady's reserve, and
she appeared agreeable. Her dress pleased me, and
answered to the universal neatness of the apart
ments, furniture, and entertainment. It was a deli
cate blue and white copper-plate calico, with a blue
lutestring skirt, flounced ; a muslin apron and hand
kerchief, which are much more worn than gauze;

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 205
her hair, a fine black, dressed without powder, with
a fashionable cap, and straw ribbons upon her head
and breast, with a green morocco slipper. Our din
ner consisted of fried fish of a small kind, a boiled
ham, a fillet of veal, a pair of roast ducks, an almond
pudding, currants and gooseberries, which In this
country are very fine. Painted muslin is much worn
here; a straw hat with a deep crown, lined, and a
white, green, or any colored ribbon you choose."
The visitors came and went, and Mrs. Adams
received them graciously, and returned their visits,
and wrote to sisters and nieces ; but all the time her
heart was In Holland, and she found the days long
and weary that kept her friend from her. At last,
— at long, long last — the Great Day came. On
August 7th, Mr. Adams writes in his diary :
"Arrived at the Adelphi Buildings (London) and
met my wife and daughter, after a separation of
four years and a half ; indeed, after a separation of
ten years, excepting a few visits. Set off the next
day for Paris."
September, 1784, found the Adamses settled at
Auteuil, four miles from Paris, in much content
ment, after the long years of separation. Mrs.
Adams writes to her sister, Mrs. Cranch :
"The house is much larger than we have need

2o6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
of : upon occasion, forty beds may be made in It.
I fancy it must be very cold in winter. There are
few houses with the privilege which this enjoys,
that of having the saloon, as it is called, the apart
ment where we receive company, upon the first
floor. This room is very elegant, and about a third
larger than General Warren's haU. . . . But with
an expense of thirty thousand livres in looking-
glasses there is no table in the house better than
an oak board, nor a carpet belonging to the house.
The floors I abhor, made of red tiles In the shape
of Mrs. Quincy's floor-cloth tiles. These floors wiU
by no means bear water, so that the method of clean
ing them is to have them waxed, and then a man
servant with foot brushes drives round your room
dancing here and there like a Merry Andrew. This
is calculated to take from your foot every atom of
dirt, and leave the room in a few moments as he
found it. The dining-rooms, of which you make no
other use, are laid with small stones, like the red
tiles for shape and size. The servants' apartments
are generally upon the first floor, and the stairs
which you commonly have to ascend to get into the
family apartments are so dirty, that I have been
obliged to hold up my clothes, as though I was
passing through a cow-yard."

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 207
She finds living In Paris very expensive; more
over, some of the expenses seem to her republican
mind unreasonable. "There is now a Court mourn
ing, and every foreign minister, with his family,
must go into mourning for a Prince of eight years
old, whose father is an ally to the King of France.
This mourning is ordered by the Court, and is to be
worn for eleven days only. Poor Mr. Jefferson
had to hie away for a tailor to get a whole black
silk suit made up in two days; and at the end of .
eleven days, should another death happen, he will
be obliged to have a new suit of mourning, of cloth,
because that Is the season when silk must be left
off. We may groan and scold, but these are ex
penses which cannot be avoided ; for fashion is the
deity everyone worships in this country, and, from
the highest to the lowest, you must submit."
In a letter to her niece, Betsey Cranch, she de
scribes the house in greater detail, and dwells with
delight on the beauty of the garden. "But Paris,
you must not ask me how I like it, because I am
going to tell you of the pretty little apartment next
to this in which I am writing. Why, my dear, you
cannot turn yourself in It without being multiplied
twenty times; now that I do not like, for being
rather clumsy, and by no means an elegant figure.

2o8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
I hate to have It so often repeated to me. This room
is about ten or twelve feet large, is eight-cornered
and panelled with looking-glasses; a red and white
India patch, with pretty borders encompasses it ; low
back stuffed chairs with garlands of flowers en
circling them, adorn this little chamber ; festoons of
flowers are round all the glasses; a lustre hangs
from the ceiling adorned with flowers; a beautiful
sofa is placed in a kind of alcove, with pillows and
cushions in abundance, the use of which I have not
yet investigated; In the top of this alcove, over the
sofa in the ceiling Is another glass; here Is a beau
tiful chimney piece, with an elegant painting of
rural life in a country farm-house, lads and lasses
jovial and happy. This little apartment opens into
your cousin's bed-chamber; It has a most pleasing
view of the garden, and it is that view which al
ways brings my dear Betsey to my mind, and makes
me long for her to enjoy the delights of it with me."
Mrs. Adams certainly did not like Paris. "They
tell me I am no judge, for that I have not seen it yet.
One thing I know, and that is that I have smelt
it. . . . It is the very dirtiest place I ever saw. . . .
Boston cannot boast so elegant pulilic buildings;
but, in every other respect, it is as much superior
in my eyes to Paris, as London is to Boston."

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 209
It is hard to choose among these sprightly letters,
so full of color and gayety. Here is an account
of the Marquise de Lafayette, written to Mrs.
Cranch :
"The Marquise met me at the door, and with
the freedom of an old acquaintance, and the rap
ture peculiar to the ladies of this nation, caught me
by the hand and gave me a salute upon each cheek,
most heartily rejoiced to see me. You would have
supposed I had been some long absent friend, whom
she dearly loved. She presented me to her mother
and sister, who were present with her, all sitting
together in her bed-room, quite en famille. One
of the ladies was knitting. The Marquise herself
was In a chintz gown. She is a middle-sized lady,
sprightly and agreeable; and professes herself
strongly attached to Americans. She supports an
amiable character, is fond of her children, and very
attentive to them, which Is not the general character
of ladies of high rank in Europe. In a few days,
she returned my visit, upon which we sent her a
card of Invitation to dine. She came; we had a
large company. There is not a lady in our country,
who would have gone abroad to dine so little
dressed; and one of our fine American ladies, who
sat by me, whispered to me, 'Good Heavens! how

210 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
awfully she is dressed.' I could not forbear return
ing the whisper, which I most sincerely despised, by
replying that the lady's rank sets her above the
little formaUties of dress. She had on a Brown
Florence gown and petticoat, — which is the only
silk, excepting satins, which are worn here in win
ter — a plain double gauze handkerchief, a pretty
cap with a white ribbon in it, and looked very neat.
The rouge, 'tis true, was not so artfully laid on, as
upon the faces of the American ladies who were
present. Whilst they were glittering with dia
monds, watch-chains, girdle-buckles, etc., the Mar
quise was nowise ruffled by her own different ap
pearance. A really well-bred French lady has the
most ease in her , manners, that you can possibly
conceive of. It Is studied by them as an art, and
they render It nature. It requires some time, you
know, before any fashion quite new becomes fa
miliar to us. The dress of the French ladies has
the most taste and variety in it, of any I have yet
seen; but these are topics I must reserve to amuse
my young acquaintance with. I have seen none,
however, who carry the extravagance of dress to
such a height as the Americans who are here, some
of whom, I have reason to think, Uve at an expense
double what is allowed to the American ministers.

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 211
They must however, abide the consequences."
The months spent in France proved interesting
enough When in May, 1785, Mr. Adams was ap
pointed United States Minister Plenipotentiary to
Great Britain, his wife had some things to regret,
though more to anticipate. "Delightful and bloom
ing garden, how much I shall regret your loss ! . . .
It wiU not be easy to find in the midst of a city
so charming a scene."
But Paris was soon forgotten in the excitement
of the London season. London was very full this
May and June. The Adamses had hard work to
find a house, but were finaUy estabUshed In lodgings
"at the moderate price of a guinea per day, for
two rooms and two chambers at the Bath Hotel,
Westminster, Piccadilly."
The first great event was the presentation to
Royalty, first of Mr. Adams In private, then of the
family, in public. Mrs. Adams notes rather ruefully
that "one Is obliged here to attend the circles of
the Queen, which are held in summer once a fort
night, but once a week the rest of the year; and
what renders it exceedingly expensive is, that you
cannot go twice the same season in the same dress,
and a Court dress you cannot make use of any
where else." This was hard indeed for people of

212 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
moderate means and simple tastes; but as usual,
Mrs. Adams was mistress of the emergency.
"I directed my mantuamaker to let my dress be
elegant, but plain as I could possibly appear, with
decency ; accordingly, it is white lutestring, covered
and full trimmed with white crape, festooned with
lilac ribbon and mock point lace, over a hoop of
enormous extent; there is only a narrow train of
about three yards in length to the gown waist, which
is put into a ribbon upon the left side, the Queen
only having her train borne. Ruffle cuffs for mar
ried ladies, treble lace ruffles, a very dress cap
with long lace lappets, two white plumes, and a
blonde lace handkerchief. This is my rigging. I
should have mentioned two pearl pins in my hair,
ear-rings and necklace of the sarae kind."
On the day of the festivities she writes : "My
head is dressed for St. James's, and in my opinion,
looks very tasty. Whilst my daughter's is under
going the same operation, I set myself down com
posedly to write you a few lines. 'Well,' methinks
I hear Betsey and Lucy say, 'what is cousin's dress ?'
White, my dear girls, like your aunt's, only differ
ently trimmed and ornaraented; her train being
whoUy of white crape, and trimmed with white rib
bon ; the petticoat, which is the most showy part of

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 213
the dress, covered and drawn up In what are called
festoons, with light wreaths of beautiful flowers;
the sleeves white crape, drawn over the silk, with
a row of lace round the sleeve near the shoulder,
another half way down the arm, and a third upon
the top of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between;
a kind of hat-cap, with three large feathers and
a bunch of flowers; a wreath of flowers upon the
hair. Thus equipped, we go in our own carriage,
and Mr. Adams and Colonel Smith in his. But I
must quit my pen to put myself in order for the
ceremony, which begins at two o'clock. When I
return, I will relate to you my reception ; but do not
let it circulate, as there may be persons eager to
catch at every thing, and as much given to misrepre
sentation as here. I would gladly be excused the
ceremony." The next day she thus continues : "Congratulate
me, my dear sister, it is over. I was too much fa
tigued to write a Une last evening. At two o'clock
we went to the circle, which is In the drawing-room
of the Queen. We passed through several apart
ments, lined as usual with spectators upon these
occasions. . . . We were placed In a circle round
the drawing-room, which was very fuU. I believe
two hundred persons present. Only think of the

214 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
task ! The royal faraily have to go round to every
person, and find small talk enough to speak to all
of them, though they very prudently speak in a
whisper, so that only the person who stands next
you can hear what is said. The King enters the
room, and goes round to the right; the Queen and
Princesses to the left. The lord-in-waiting pre
sents you to the King ; and the lady-in-waiting does
the same to her Majesty. The King is a person
able man, but, my dear sister, he has a certain coun
tenance, which you and I have often remarked; a
red face and white eyebrows. The Queen has a
similar countenance, and the numerous royal fam
ily confirm the observation. Persons are not placed
according to their rank in the drawing-room, but
promiscuously; and when the King comes in, he
takes persons as they stand. When he came to me.
Lord Onslow said, 'Mrs. Adams'; upon which I
drew off my right-hand glove, and his Majesty sa
luted my left cheek; then asked me if I had taken
a walk today. I could have told his Majesty that
I had been all the moming preparing to wait upon
him; but I replied, 'No, Sire.' 'Why, don't you
love walking?' says he. I answered, that I was
rather Indolent in that respect. He then bowed and
passed on. It was more than two hours after this

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 215
before It came to my turn to be presented to the
Queen. The circle was so large that the company
were four hours standing. The Queen was evi
dently embarrassed when I was presented to her. I
had disagreeable feeUngs, too. She, however, said,
'Mrs. Adams, have you got into your house ? Pray,
how do you like the situation of it?' Whilst the
Princess Royal looked compassionate, and asked me
if I was not much fatigued; and observed, that it
was a very fuU drawing-room. Her sister, who
came next. Princess Augusta, after having asked
your niece if she was ever in England before, and
her answering, 'Yes,' inquired of me how long ago,
and supposed it was when she was very young.
And all this is said with much affability, and the
ease and freedom of old acquaintance. The man
ner in which they make their tour round the room
is, first, the Queen, the lady-in-waiting behind her,
holding up her train; next to her, the Princess
Royal; after her. Princess Augusta, and their lady-
in-waiting behind them. They are pretty, rather
than beautiful, well shaped, with fair complexions,
and a tincture of the King's countenance. The two
sisters look much alike; they were both dressed In
black and silver silk, with a silver netting upon the
coat, and their heads full of diamond pins. The

2i6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Queen was in purple and silver. She is not well
shaped nor handsome. As to the ladies of the
Court, rank and title may compensate for want of
personal charms; but they are, in general, very
plain, ill-shaped, and ugly; but don't tell anybody
that I say so."
Mrs. Adams did not enjoy Court occasions. "I
know," she says to Sister Mary, "I am looked down
upon with a sovereign pride, and the smile of roy-
¦ alty is bestowed as a mighty boon. As such, how
ever, I cannot receive it. I know it is due to my
country, and I consider rayself as complimenting
the power before which I appear as much as I am
complimented by being noticed by it. With these
ideas, you may be sure my countenance will never
wear that suppliant appearance, which begs for no
tice. Consequently I never expect to be a Court
favorite. Nor would I ever again set my foot there,
if the etiquette of my country did not require it.
But, whilst I am in a public character, I must sub
mit to the penalty ; for such I shall ever esteem it."
In the same letter she describes one of the
Queen's 'drawing-rooms.'
"The corapany were very brilliant, and her Ma
jesty was stiff with diaraonds; the three eldest
Princesses and the Prince of Wales were present.

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 217
His Highness looked much better than when I saw
him before. He is a stout, well-made man, and
would look very well if he had not sacrificed so
much to Bacchus. The Princess Elizabeth I never
saw before. She Is about fifteen; a short, clumsy
miss, and would not be thought handsome If she
was not a princess. The whole family have one
complexion, and all are inclined to be corpulent. I
should know them in any part of the world. Not
withstanding the English boast so much of their
beauties, I do not think they have really so much of
it as you will find amongst the same proportion of
people in America."
Mrs. SIddons was then in her glory, and Abigail
did not fail to see her, and to describe her to the
sisterhood at home. This time It Is Sister Shaw
who hears how "the first piece I saw her in was
Shakespeare's 'Othello.' She was interesting be
yond any actress I had ever seen; but I lost much
of the pleasure of the play, from the sooty appear
ance of the Moor. Perhaps it may be early preju
dice; but I could not separate the African color
from the man, nor prevent that disgust and horror
which filled my mind every time I saw him touch
the gentle Desdemona; nor did I wonder that Bra-
bantlo thought some love potion or some witch-

2i8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
craft had been practised to make his daughter fall
in love with what she scarcely dared look upon.
"I have been more pleased with her since, in sev
eral other characters, particularly in Matilda in
'The Carmelite,' a play which I send you for your
amusement. Much of Shakespeare's language Is so
uncouth that it sounds very harsh. He has beau
ties which are not equalled; but I should suppose
they might be rendered much more agreeable for
the stage by alterations. I saw Mrs. SIddons a few
evenings ago in 'Macbeth,' a play, you recoUect,
full of horror. She supported her part with great
propriety; but she is too great to be put in so de
testable a character. . . . You must make as much
interest here to get a box when she plays, as to get
a place at Court; and they are usually obtained in
the same way. It would be very difficult to find the
thing in this country which money wiU not purchase,
provided you can bribe high enough.
"What adds much to the raerit of Mrs. SIddons,
is her virtuous character; slander itself never hav
ing slurred It. She is raarried to a man who bears
a good character; but his name and iraportance
are wholly swallowed up in her fame. She is the
mother of five children; but from her looks you
would not imagine her more than twenty-five years

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 219
old. She Is happy In having a brother who is one
of the best tragic actors upon the stage, and always
plays the capital parts with her; so that both her
husband and the virtuous part of the audience can
see them in the tenderest scenes without once fear
ing for their reputation."
To Thomas Jefferson she wrote on June 6, 1785 :
"I went last week to hear the music (Handel's)
in Westminster. 'The Messiah' was performed. It
was sublime beyond description. I most sincerely
wished for your presence, as your favorite passion
would have received the highest gratification. I
should have sometimes fancied myself amongst a
higher order of Beings if It had not been for a very
troublesome female, who was unfortunately seated
behind me ; and whose volubility not all the powers
of music could still."
-^Mrs. Adams was certainly an admirable corre
spondent; the long years of separation from her
, "dearest friend" had taught her how letters were
longed for by those at home; and she writes with
out stint to sisters, nieces and friends. Here are
\two letters to Betsey and Lucy Cranch, describing
the gayeties of London :
"I believe I once promised to give you an ac-

220 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
count of that kind of visiting called a ladles' rout.,
There are two kinds; one where a lady sets apart
a particular day in the week to see company. These
are held only five raonths in the year, it being quite
out of fashion to be seen In London during the
suramer. When a lady returns from the country
she goes round and leaves a card with all her ac
quaintances, and then sends them an invitation to
attend her routs during the season. The other kind
is where a lady sends to you for certain evenings,
and the cards are always addressed In her own
name, both to gentlemen and ladies. The rooms
are all set open, and card-tables set in each room,
the lady of the house receiving her company at the
door of the drawing-room, where a set nuraber of
courtesies are given and received with as rauch or
der as is necessary for a soldier who goes through
the different evolutions of his exercise. The visitor
then proceeds into the room without appearing to
notice any other person, and takes her seat at the
card table. Nor can the muse her aid impart,
Unskilled in all the terms of art,
Nor in harmonious numbers put
The deal, the shuffle, and the cut;
Go, Tom, and light the ladies up.
It must be one before we sup.

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 221
"At these parties It is usual for each lady to play
a rubber, as it is termed, when you must lose or
win a few guineas. To give each a fair chance, the
lady then rises and gives her seat to another set.
It Is no unusual thing to have your rooms
so crowded that not more than half the company
can sit at once, yet this is called society and polite
life. They treat their company with coffee, tea,
lemonade, orgeat and cake. I know of but.one agree
able circumstance attending these parties, which
is, that you may go away when you please without
disturbing anybody. I was early in the winter in
vited to Madame de Pinto's, the Portuguese min
ister's. I went accordingly. There were about two
hundred persons present. I knew not a single lady
but by sight, having met them at Court ; and It Is an
established rule, that though you were to meet as
often as three nights in the week, never to speak
together, or know each other, unless particularly
Introduced. I was, however, at no loss for conver
sation, Madame de Pinto being very polite, and the
Foreign Ministers being the most of them present,
who had dined with us, and to whom I had been
early Introduced. It being Sunday evening, I de
cUned playing cards; indeed, I always get excused
when I can. And Heavens forbid I should

222 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
catch the manner living as they rise.
". . . At eight o'clock we returned home in order
to dress ourselves for the ball at the French am
bassador's, to which we had received an invita
tion a fortnight before. He has been absent ever
since our arrival here, till three weeks ago. He
has a levee every Sunday evening, at which there
are usually several hundred persons. The Hotel
de France Is beautifully situated, fronting St.
James's Park, one end of the house standing upon
Hyde Park. It is a most superb building. About
half past nine, we went and found some company
collected. Many very brilliant ladies of the first
distinction were present. The dancing commenced
about ten, and the rooras soon filled. The room
which he had built for this purpose is large enough
for five or six hundred persons. It is most ele
gantly decorated, hung with a gold tissue, orna
mented with twelve brilliant cut lustres, each con
tained twenty-four candles. At one end there are
two large arches ; these were adorned with wreaths
and bunches of artificial flowers upon the walls ; in
the alcoves were cornucopiae, loaded with oranges,
sweetmeats, etc. Coffee, tea, lemonade, orgeat, etc.,
were taken here by every person who chose to go

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 223
for them. There were covered seats all round the
room for those who did not choose to dance. In
the other rooms, card-tables, and a large faro-table,
were set : this is a new kind of game, which is much
practised here. Many of the company who did not
dance, retired here to amuse themselves. ..."
This was Betsey's letter : Lucy was to hear about
the dresses :
"To amuse you then, my dear niece, I will give
you an account of the dress of the ladies at the
ball of the Comte d'Adhemar; as your cousin tells
me that she some time ago gave you a history of
the birthday and ball at Court, this may serve as
a counterpart. Though, should I attempt to com
pare the apartments, St. James's would fall as much
short of the French Ambassador's as the Court of
his Britannic Majesty does of the splendor and mag
nificence of that of his Most Christian Majesty.
I am sure I never saw an assembly room in America,
which did not exceed that at St. James's in point
of elegance and decoration; and, as to Its fair visit
ors, not all their blaze of diamonds, set off with
Parisian rouge, can match the blooming health, the
sparkling eye, and modest deportment of the dear
girls of my native land. As to the dancing, the
space they had to move in gave them no opportunity

224 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
to display the grace of a minuet, and the full dress
of long court-trains and enormous hoops, you well
know were not favorable for country dances, so
that I saw them at every disadvantage; not so the
other evening. They were much more properly
clad : — silk waists, gauze or white or painted tiffany
coats decorated with ribbon, beads, or flowers, as
fancy directed, were chiefly worn by the young la
dies. Hats turned up at the sides with diamond
loops and buttons of steel, large bows of ribbons
and wreaths of flowers, displayed themselves to
much advantage upon the heads of some of the pret
tiest girls England can boast. The light from the
lustres is more favorable to beauty than daylight,
and the color acquired by dancing, more becoming
than rouge, as fancy dresses are more favorable
to youth than the formality of a uniform. There
was as great a variety of pretty dresses, borrowed
wholly from France, as I have ever seen; and
amongst the rest, some with sapphire-blue satin
waists, spangled with silver, and laced down the
back and seams with silver stripes; white satin
petticoats trimmed with black and blue velvet
ribbon ; an odd kind of head-dress, which they term
the 'helmet of Minerva.' I did not observe the bird
of wisdom, however, nor do I know whether those

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 225
who wore the dress had suitable pretensions to It.
'And pray,' say you, 'how were my aunt and cousin
dressed ?' If it will gratify you to know, you shall
hear. Your aunt then wore a full-dress court cap
without the lappets. In which was a wreath of white
flowers, and blue sheafs, two black and blue flat
feathers (which cost her half a guinea a-plece, but
that you need not tell of), three pearl pins, bought
for Court, and a pair of pearl ear-rings, the cost of
them — no matter what; no less than diamonds,
however. A sapphire blue demi-saison with a satin
stripe, sack and petticoat triraraed with a broad
black lace; crape flounce, etc.; leaves raade of blue
ribbon, and trimmed with white floss; wreaths of
black velvet ribbon spotted with steel beads, which
are much In fashion, and brought to such perfection
as to resemble diamonds ; white ribbon also In the
Vandyke style, made up the trimming, which
looked very elegant ; a full dress handkerchief, and
a bouquet of roses. 'Full gay, I think, for my aunt.'
That Is true, Lucy, but nobody is old in Europe. I
was seated next the Duchess of Bedford, who had
a scarlet satin sack and coat, with a cushion full of
diamonds, for hair she has none, and is but seventy-
six, neither. Well, now for your cousin; a small,
white Leghorn hat, bound with pink satin ribbon;

226 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
a steel buckle and band which turned up at the side,
and confined a large pink bow; large bow of the
same kind of ribbon behind; a wreath of full-blown
roses round the crown, and another of buds and
roses withinside the hat, which being placed at the
back of the hair brought the roses to the edge ; you
see it clearly; one red and black feather with two
white ones, completed the head-dress. A gown and
coat of Chamberi gauze, with a red satin stripe over
a pink waist, and coat flounced with crape, trimmed
with broad point and pink ribbon ; wreaths of roses
across the coat; gauze sleeves and ruffles."
Mrs. Adams was very fond of her nieces, and
they must have their share of London finery. In
July, 1786, she writes to "my dear girls" :
"I bought me a blue sarcenet coat not long since ;
after making It up I found it was hardly wide
enough to wear over a straw coat, but I thought it
was no matter ; I could send it to one of my nieces.
When I went to put it up, I thought, I wished I had
another. 'It is easily got,' said I. 'Ned, bring the
carriage to the door and drive me to Thornton's,
the petticoat shop.' 'Here, Madam, is a very nice
pink coat, made too of the widest sarcenet.' 'WeU,
put It up.' So back I drove, and now, my dear girls,
there is a coat for each of you. Settle between your-

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 227
selves which shall have the blue and which the pink,
pay no regard to the direction, only when you put
them on, remember your aunt wishes they were
better for your sakes."
Sarcenet was In those days "a fine soft silk," the
word being "probably derived from 'Saracen.' " ^
It Is pleasant to fancy the delight of the nieces
when the box from London arrived. Plow they
shook out the shining folds and tried the coats on
before the glass, and cried, "Dear, kind Aunt
Abby!" Though London claimed most of their time, there
were pleasant jaunts now and then for the Adamses;
to this or that famous place. They went to Wind
sor, to Bath (which Abigail disUked heartily), to
Portsmouth. Mr. Adams' diary gives glimpses
of some of these excursions :
"AprU, 1786. EdgehUl and Worcester were cu
rious and interesting to us, as scenes where freemen
had fought for their rights. The people In the
neighborhood appeared so ignorant and careless at
Worcester, that I was provoked, and asked, 'And
do EngUshmen so soon forget the ground where
liberty was fought for? Tell your neighbors and
your children that this is holy ground ; much holier
'"Concise Oxford Dictionary."

228 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
than that on which your churches stand. All Eng
land should come in pilgrimage to this hill once a
year.' "This animated them, and they seemed much
pleased with it. Perhaps their awkwardness before
might arise from their uncertainty of our senti
ments concerning the civil wars."
A trip like this must have been a great refresh
ment to Mrs. Adams ; she did not like London. She
tells her friend, Mrs. Warren :
"I have resided in this country nearly two years,
and, in that time, I have made some few acquaint
ances whom I esteem, and shall leave with regret;
but the customs and manners of a metropolis are
unfriendly to that social intercourse which I have
ever been accustomed to. Amusement and diversion
may always be purchased at the theatres and places
of public resort, so that little pains are taken to
cultivate that benevolence and interchange of kind
ness which sweetens life, in lieu of which mere
visits of form are substituted to keep up the union.
Not only the wrinkled brow of age is grasping at
the card-table, and even tricking with mean ava
rice, but the virgin bloom of innocence and beauty
is withered at the same vigils. I do not think I
should draw a false picture of the nobility and gen-

THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 229
try of this metropolis, if I were to assert that money
and pleasure are the sole objects of their ardent
pursuit; public virtue, and, indeed, aU virtue. Is ex
posed to sale, and as to principle, where Is It to be
found, either In the present administration or oppo
sition? Luxury, dissipation, and vice, have a nat
ural tendency to extirpate every generous principle,
and leave the heart susceptible of the most malig
nant vices."
I think she longed for home throughout the three
years of her stay In London. It was not her own
place. She met many faraous people, and was glad
to meet them, but their ways were not her ways.
Besides this, her reception at Court, as well as her
husband's, had been as cold as poUcy and bare civil
ity would aUow. How could it be otherwise ? How
could George III, honest creature that he was, pre
tend to be glad to see the Minister of his own lost
dominion? It was perhaps too much to expect of
him, and Queen Charlotte was of no more heroic
mold than he, of no more tact or innate courtesy,
and behaved accordingly. Abigail Adams was too
proud to allude to this at the time ; there is no hint
of It in the letters from London. It was not till
long after this that in a letter to her daughter she
shows something of the bitterness that stiU remained

230 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
In her heart. It was when the French Revolution
seemed to threaten disaster to the throne of Eng
land. "Humiliation for Charlotte," she says, "is no sor
row for me. She richly deserves her full portion
for the contempt and scom which she took pains to
discover." Those must have been grave affronts indeed that
made so deep and abiding an impression on a heart
so good and kind.
The stay in London brought her two great joys :
the happy marriage of her daughter Abigail to Col
onel W. S. Smith, the young secretary of the Ameri
can Legation, and the birth of her first grandson.
But when aU was said, it was a glad day that
brought Mr. Adams' decision to petition Congress
for leave to return home ; and a far gladder one for
Mrs. Adams, when she set foot once more, in May,
1788, on the shore of the country she so deeply
loved.

CHAPTER XI
VEXATIOUS HONORS
WHILE the Adamses were still In England,
the Constitution of the United States had
been framed; had been signed, September 17th,
1787, by George Washington, as president of the
convention charged with its preparation, and rati
fied by a majority of the States. Now, a few
months after their return, the first Presidential elec
tion took place, and John Adams, after nominating
George Washington for President, found himself
by general consent elected Vice-President. He took
the new honor quietly and seriously, as he took
everything; nor is it likely that Mrs. Adams was
unduly elated by it. They made little change In
their sober way of life. We are told that "the town
of Hartford could think of no gift so appropriate
for John Adaras on his way to be inaugurated Vice-
President as a roll of cloth from Its own looms.
All true patriots heard with joy that . . . when
231

232 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND H1£R TIMES
the American Fabius stood forth to take the oath
of office he was clad from head to foot in garments
whose material was the product of the soil." But
by the time John Adams was inaugurated President,
he had advanced so far that he went to the cere
mony in a coach and six, followed by a procession of
coaches and four.
New York was then the seat of government, and
it was near New York that Mr. Adams estabUshed
his family. There were to be no more long sepa
rations, no weary leagues stretching between Portia
and her dearest friend. Both of them longed for
Braintree, the home of their hearts, but since both
could not be there, neither would be. A suitable
horae was found at Richmond HiU, then a lovely
country place, a mile and a half from New York,
and here some pleasant months were passed. Mrs.
Adams thus describes Richmond Hill to her sister:
"The house in which we reside is situated upon
a hill, the avenue to which is interspersed with for
est trees, under which a shrubbery rather too
luxuriant and wild has taken shelter, owing to its
having been deprived by death, some years since, of
its original proprietor, who kept it in perfect order.
In front of the house, the noble Hudson rolls his
majestic waves, bearing upon his bosom innumer-

VEXATIOUS HONORS 233
able small vessels, which are constantly forwarding
the rich products of the neighboring soil to the busy
hand of a more extensive commerce. Beyond the
Hudson rises to our view the fertile country of the
Jerseys, covered with a golden harvest, and pour
ing forth plenty like the cornucopiae of Ceres. On
the right hand, an extensive plain presents us with
a view of fields covered with verdure, and pastures
full of cattle. On the left, the city opens upon us,
intercepted only by clumps of trees, and some ris
ing ground, which serves to heighten the beauty of
the scene, by appearing to conceal a part. In the
background is a large flower-garden, enclosed with
a hedge and some very handsome trees. On one
side of It, a grove of pines and oaks fit for con
templation. ... If my days of fancy and romance
were not past, I could find here an ample field for
Indulgence; yet, amidst these delightful scenes of
nature, my heart pants for the society of my dear
relatives and friends who are too far removed
from me. . . ."
She was not long to enjoy the beauties of Rich
mond HiU. In 1790, the seat of government was
transferred to Philadelphia, and thither the faithful
pair journeyed. The change was a most uncom
fortable, even a dangerous one for Mrs. Adams,

234 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
who had barely recovered from a serious Illness.
Soon after her arrival (November 21, 1790), she
writes to her daughter from her new abode :
"Bush Hill, as it is caUed, though by the way
there remains neither bush nor shrub upon it, and
very few trees, except the pine grove behind It, —
yet Bush HIU is a very beautiful place. But the
grand and sublime I left at Richmond Hill. The
cultivation in sight and prospect are superior, but
the Schuylkill is not more like the Hudson, than I
to Hercules. The house is better finished within;
but, when you come to compare the conveniences
for storeroom, kitchen, closets, etc., there is nothing
like it In the whole house. As chance governs many
actions of my life, when we arrived in the city, we
proceeded to the house. By accident, the vessel with
our furniture had arrived the day before, and Bries-
ler was taking in the first load into a house all green-
painted, the workmen there with their brushes in
hand. This was cold comfort in a house, where I
suppose no fire had been kindled for several years,
except In a back kitchen; but, as I expected many
things of this kind, I was not disappointed nor dis
comfited. As no wood nor fodder had been pro
vided before-hand, we could only turn about, and
go to the City Tavern for the night.

VEXATIOUS HONORS 235
"The next morning was pleasant, and I ventured
to come up and take possession ; but what confusion !
Boxes, barrels, chairs, tables, trunks, etc.; every
thing to be arranged, and few hands to accomplish
it, for Briesler was obliged to be at the vessel. The
first object was to get fires ; the next to get up beds ;
but the cold, damp rooms, the new paint, etc.,
proved almost too much for me. On Friday we
arrived here, and late on Saturday evening we got
our furniture in. On Sunday, Thomas was laid
up with rheumatism; on Monday, I was obliged to
give Louisa an emetic; on Tuesday, Mrs. Briesler
was taken with her old pain in her stomach; and,
to complete the whole, on Thursday, Polly was
seized with a violent pleuritic fever. She has been
twice bled, a blister upon her side, and has not been
out of bed since, only as she Is taken up to haye
her bed made. And every day, the stormy ones
excepted, from eleven until three, the house is filled
with ladles and gentlemen. As all this is no more
nor worse than I expected, I bear it without repin
ing, and feel thankful that I have weathered it out
without a relapse, though some days I have not been
able to sit up. . . .
"I have not yet begun to return visits, as the
ladles expect to find me at home, and I have not

236 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
been in a state of health to do it; nor am I yet in a
very eUgible state to receive their visits. I, how
ever, endeavored to have one room decent to re
ceive them, which, with my own chamber, is as
much as I can boast of at present being In tolerable
order. The difficulty of getting workmen, Mr.
Hamilton pleads as an excuse for the house not
being ready. Mrs. Lear was in to see me yester
day, and assures me that I am much better off than
Mrs. Washington wUl be when she arrives, for that
their house Is not likely to be completed this year.
And, when all is done, it will not be Broadway.
If New York wanted any revenge for the removal,
the citizens might be glutted If they would come
here, where every article has become almost double
In price, and where It Is not possible for Congress,
and the appendages, to be half so well accommo
dated for a long time. One would suppose that
the people thought Mexico was before them, and
that Congress were the possessors."
This was Indeed an ominous beginning of the
winter. A week later Thomas, Mrs. Adams' third
son, was taken very IU with rheumatic fever, the
natural result of moving Into a damp, unfinished
house In November.
"It seems," writes the poor lady, "as If sickness

VEXATIOUS HONORS 237
followed me wherever I go ... I had a great mis
fortune happen to my best trunk of clothes. The
vessel sprunk a leak, and my trunk got wet a foot
high, by which means I have several gowns spoiled ;
and the one you worked is the most damaged, and a
black satin; — the blessed effects of tumbling about
the world."
A month later, things were scarcely better.
¦ "I would tell you that I had an ague in my face,
and a violent toothache, which has prevented my
writing to you all day; but I am determined to
brave It out this evening, and enquire how you do.
Without further complaint, I have become so ten
der, from keeping so much in a warm chamber,
that, as soon as I set my feet out, I am sure to
come home with some new pain or ache."
PhUadelphia was gay that winter : a "consteUation
of beauties" was sparkling In the social firmament.
Mrs. Adams cannot say enough about "the dazzling
Mrs. Bingham," who "has certainly given laws to
the ladies here, in fashion and elegance : their man
ners and appearance are superior to what I have
seen." She adds: "I should spend a very dissi
pated winter, if I were to accept one-half the in
vitations I receive, particularly to the routs, or tea
and cards. Even Saturday evening is not excepted.

238 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and I refused an invitation of that kind for this
evening. I have been to one assembly. The danc
ing was very good; the company of the best kind.
The President and Madam, the Vice-President and
Madam, Ministers of State, and their Madams, etc. ;
but the room despicable ; the etiquette, — it was diffi
cult to say where it was to be found."
She is writing to Mrs. Smith, the beloved daugh
ter whom she missed daily and hourly. In this
same letter (January 8th 1791) we catch a glimpse
of the Vice-President which would have astonished
his fellow-workers in Congress. Little John Smith
was visiting his grandparents at this time. "As to
John," says Grandmother Abigail, "we grow every
day fonder of him. He has spent an hour this
afternoon in driving his grandpapa round the room
with a willow stick."
I shall never again see a portrait of John Adams,
dignified and portly. In powder and pigtail, without
caUIng up this pleasant companion picture of the
grandfather capering about the room to the whis
tling of a wIUow switch.
The foUowing letters, written by Mr. Adams
while on a visit to Quincy, show him in his most
delightful aspect.
"You apologize for the length of your letters.

VEXATIOUS HONORS 239
and I ought to excuse the shortness and emptiness of
mine. Yours give me more entertainment than all
the speeches I hear. There are more good thoughts,
fine strokes, and mother wit in them than I hear in
the whole week. An ounce of mother wit Is worth
a pound of clergy ; and I rejoice that one of my chil
dren, at least, has an abundance of not only mother
wit, but his mother's wit. It is one of the most ami
able and striking traits in his composition. It ap
peared in all its glory and severity in 'Barneveldt.'
"If the rogue has any family pride. It is all de
rived from the same source. His Pa renounces and
abjures every trace of it. He has curiosity to know
his descent and comfort in the knowledge that his
ancestors, on both sides, for several generations,
have been Innocent. But no pride In this. Pomp,
splendor, office, title, power, riches are the sources
of pride, but even these are not excuse for pride.
The virtues and talents of ancestors should be con
sidered as examples and solemn trusts and produce
meekness, modesty, and humility, lest they should
not be imitated and equalled. Mortification and
humiliation can be the only legitimate feelings of a
mind conscious that it falls short of its ancestors In
merit. I must stop."

240 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"You say so many handsome things to me, re
specting my letters, that you ought to fear making
me vain; since, however we may appreciate the
encomiums of the world, the praises of those whom
we love and esteem are more dangerous, because we
are led to believe them the most sincere. . . .
"Prince Edward sailed last Saturday. He sent
his aides to visit the Lieutenant-Governor, but
would not go himself. He dined with Mrs. Han
cock, and was visited by many gentlemen in town.
He went to the assembly with Mr. Russell, and
danced with Mrs. RusseU. He went to visit the
college, but I did not hear that he had any curi
osity to see Bunker Hill. He related an anecdote at
the table of the English consul. As he was coming
from Quebec, he stopped at an inn, where an elderly
countryman desired to see him. After some bow
ing, etc., the countryman said : 'I hear you are King
George's son.' 'They tell rae so,' said the prince.
'And, pray how do you like this country?' 'Why,
very well,' replied his highness. 'And how do you
think your father liked to lose it?' 'Why, not half
so well as I should like to live in it,' replied the
prince, which answer pleased the countryman. I
hear he took notice of all the French refugees, and
offered any of them a passage with him to the West

VEXATIOUS HONORS 241
Indies. His stay here was very short, and it was
best it should be so."
One has pleasant glimpses of George Washing
ton, in Mrs. Adams' letters. One day she dined
with him and Mrs. Washington and found him
"more than usually social. ... He asked very
affectionately after you and the children, and at
table picked the sugar-plums from a cake, and re
quested me to take them for master John."
The custom of sending bonbons to the children
dates back to Colonial times, when any social en
tertainment was apt to be followed by what was
pleasantly called "Cold Party." The day after, the
hostess would send a judicious assortment of left
over delicacies to such neighbors as had been un
able to join the party. In my own childhood, my
mother's going to a dinner party was always an oc
casion of excitement, because of wonderful bonbons
that we children would receive the next day ; pieces
of red or white sugar candy, in elaborate wrappings
of gilt paper, tinsel and gauze : I do not see the like
today. Philadelphia society was certainly bSrilliant in
those days. The Duke of Rochefoucauld-LIancourt
was deeply impressed by It, and wrote In his book
of Travels :

242 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"The profusion and luxury of Philadelphia
on great days, at the tables of the wealthy, in
their equipages, and the dresses of their wives and
daughters, are, as I have observed, extreme. I have
seen balls on the President's birthday where the
splendor of the rooms, and the variety and richness
of the dresses did not suffer in comparison with
Europe; and it must be acknowledged that the
beauty of the American ladies has the advantage in
the comparison. The young women of Philadelphia
are accomplished In different degrees, but beauty is
general with them. They want the ease and fash-
Ion of Frenchwomen; but the brilliancy of their
complexion is infinitely superior. Even when they
grow old they are still handsome ; and it would be no
exaggeration to say in the numerous assemblies of
Philadelphia It Is Impossible to meet with what Is
called a plain woman. As for the young men, they
for the most part seem to belong to another spe
cies." What were these rich and various dresses? We
have chapter and verse for some of them. One lady
wore at a certain ball "a plain celestial-blue satin,
with a white satin petticoat. On the neck was worn
a very large Italian gauze handkerchief, with border
stripes of satin. The head-dress was a pouf of

VEXATIOUS HONORS 243
gauze. In the form of a globe, the creneaux or head
piece of which was composed of white satin, having
a double wing in large plaits, and trimmed with a
wreath of artificial roses, falling from the left at
the top to the right at the bottom, in front, and the
reverse behind. The hair was dressed all over In
detached curls, four of which. In two ranks, fell on
each side of the neck, and were relieved behind by
a floating chignon."
The gentleman who led this gorgeous costume
and its wearer through "Sir Roger de Coverley"
was doubtless dressed in more sober fashion. One
of these republican exquisites thus describes his own
costume, possibly at the same ball : "I was dressed
in a light French blue coat, with a high collar,
broad lappels, and large gilt buttons, a double-
breasted Marseilles vest, Nankeen-colored cassimere
breeches, with white silk stockings, shining pumps,
and fuU ruffles on my breast and at my wrists, to
gether with a ponderous white cravat, with a pud
ding In it, as we then called it; and I was consid
ered the best dressed gentleman in the room."
The winter of 1790-91 was one of extremes. The
Adamses burned forty cords of wood in four
months. On the 17th and i8th of March, Mrs.
Adams dined with all the windows open, put out

244 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
the fires, and "ate ice to cool her ; the glasses at 80."
On the 20th, it snowed all day, the snow followed
by a keen northwester and frost. In bad weather
it was difficult for the dwellers at Bush HIU to stir
from their abode.
"We are only two miles from town, yet have I
been more of a prisoner this winter than I ever
was in my life. The road from hence to the pave
ment is one mile and a half, the soil a brick clay,
sd that, when there has been heavy rain, or a thaw,
you must wallow to the city through a bed of mor
tar without a bottom, the horses sinking to their
knees. If it becomes cold, then the holes and the
roughness are intolerable."
The next published letter of Mrs. Adams Is dated
Quincy, 11 February, 1793. It is to Mrs. Smith,
and is largely concerned with political Issues which
today have lost thei? poignancy. She has much to.
say of the "artifices and lies of the Jacobins," mean
ing the anti-Federalist party, which was opposed to
'^Washington and Adams. It is strange Indeed to
read today that "the President has been openly
abused in the National Gazette, — abused for his
levees as an ape of royalty; Mrs. Washington
abused for her drawing-rooms ; their celebration of
birth-days sneered at; himself Insulted because he

VEXATIOUS HONORS 245
has not come forward and exerted his influence in
favor of a further compensation to the army. They
even tell him that a greater misfortune cannot be
fall a people than for their President to have no
competitor; that It infuses into him a supercilious
spirit, renders him self-important, and creates an
idea that one man only is competent to govern. They
compare him to a hyena and a crocodile ; charge him
with duplicity and deception. The President has
not been accustomed to such language, and his feel
ings will be wounded, I presume."
I presume they were. Nobody likes to be called
a hyena and a crocodile, and Pater Patriae could
not fail to be sensible of a lack of propriety In the
epithets. It was all natural enough, perhaps. These were
the days of the French Revolution, and all the world
was heaving with the throes of that tremendous con
vulsion. We were fortunate to get nothing worse
than a little recrimination, which did no lasting
harm. Weare i^orant of the names of those who
called Washington hyena and crocodile, and we have
no curiosity on the subject.
Neither President nor Vice-President had much
comfort in their second term. The political pot was
seething furiously ; men were burning their fingers,

246 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and crying out with pain of the burning. "Envy,
hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness" ran rife in
the Republic where brotherly love should rule in
peace. Six months before the end of his second
term, Washington announced his resolve to retire
from public service; a resolve not to be shaken by
any entreaties. By this time the country, which had
stood united through the first Presidential election,
and divided only on the minor issue (the choice of a
Vice-President), in the second was definitely split
into two factions : Federalists and Democratic-Re
publicans faced each other in ardent strife. As I
have said before, I am not writing a history : suffice
it to say that John Adaras, as Federalist candidate,
was elected President, his rival, Thomas Jefferson,
becoming Vice-President.
Mrs. Adams' letter to her husband on the day of
his inauguration, February Sth, 1797, has become a
classic, and is in every way worthy of her.
"The sun is dressed in brightest beams.
To give thy honors to the day.
"And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each
ensuing season. You have this day to declare your
self head of a nation. 'And now, O Lord, my God,
thou hast made thy servant ruler over the people.

VEXATIOUS HONORS 247
Give unto him an understanding heart, that he may
know how to go out and come in before this great
people; that he may discern between good and bad.
For who is able to judge this thy so great a people ?'
were the words of a royal sovereign; and not less
applicable to him who is Invested with the chief
magistracy of a nation, though he wear not a crown,
nor the robes of royalty.
"My thoughts and my meditations are with you,
though personally absent ; and my petitions to Heav
en are, that 'the things which make for peace may
not be hidden from your eyes.' My feelings are
not those of pride or ostentation, upon the occasion.
They are solemnized by a sense df the obligations,
the important trusts, and numerous duties connected
with It. That you may be enabled to discharge
them with honor to yourself, with justice and im
partiality to your country, and with satisfaction to
this great people, shall be the daily prayer of your
"A. A."
Philadelphia was still the seat of government, the
new city of Washington not being yet ready for
occupation. There are few published letters of this
period; the cares and calls of society were heavy
upon Mrs. Adams. She had never fully recovered

248 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
from the illness of 1790, and was subject to recur
rent attacks of fever. She spent as much of her
time as was possible at Quincy, the name now given
to that part of Braintree where they lived. When
in Philadelphia, and later in Washington, she per
formed the duties of her high office carefully, thor
oughly, with her own stately dignity, but I doubt if
she ever enjoyed them. She writes to her friend,
Mrs. James Warren, on March 4th, 1797:
"For your congratulations upon a late important
event accept my acknowledgments. Considering it
as the voluntary and unsolicited gift of a free and
enlightened people, it is a precious and valuable de
posit and calls for every exertion of the head and
every virtue of the heart to do justice to so sacred
a trust. Yet, however pure the intentions or up
right the conduct, offences will come.
High stations tumult but not bliss create.
"As to a crown, my dear Madam, I will not deny
that there is one which I aspire after, and in a coun
try where envy can never enter to plant thorns be
neath it. The fashion of this world passeth away —
I would hope that I have not lived in vain, but have
learnt how to estimate and what value to place upon
the fleeting and transitory enjoyment of it. I shall

VEXATIOUS HONORS 249
esteem myself peculiarly fortunate. If, at the close
of my pubUc life, I can retire esteemed, beloved and
equally respected with my predecessor."
Mr. Adams' feelings are expressed in the follow
ing words, written to his wife the day after the
election. "Your dearest friend never had a more trying
day than yesterday. A solemn scene It was indeed,
and It was made more affecting to me by the pres
ence of the General, whose countenance was as se
rene and unclouded as the day. He seemed to me to
enjoy, a triumph over me. Methought I heard him
say, 'Ay! I am fairly out, and you are fairly In!
See which of us will be happiest.' When the cere
mony was over, he came and made me a visit, and
cordially congratulated me, and wished my admin
istration might be happy, successful and honorable."
There were thorns enough In the presidential
"crown," for both Mr. and Mrs. Adams. The
storm. Instead of abating, rose higher and higher.
There was danger of war with France: a danger
only averted by the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte to
power, as First Consul of France. Consequent upon
these troubles came the Alien and Sedition Acts,
which brought endless vexation of spirit for Presi
dent Adams and for everyone else concerned In

250 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
them. The details of the struggle may not be given
here: suffice It to say that through four tempes
tuous years the old statesman fought gallantly and
steadfastly for the political principles which were
dearer to him than Ufe itself, but fought in vain.
The tide had set against him, and in November,
1800, he had the Intense mortification of seeing his
colleague, his former friend and present rival,
Thomas Jefferson, elected President in his place.
This was bitter indeed to the stout patriot who
had given his whole life to the service of his coun
try. Conscious of his absolute integrity ("He is
vain and irritable," said Jefferson himself, "but
disinterested as the being who made him!"), and
his unfailing devotion, John Adams could not but
resent the slight put upon him; nor, strive as she
might, could his faithful Portia help resenting it
for him. She writes to her son Thomas (Novem
ber 13th, 1800) :
"Well, my dear son. South Carolina has behaved
as your father always said she would. The conse
quence to us, personally, is, that we retire from
public life. For myself and family, I have few re
grets. At my age, and with my bodily Infirmities, I
shall be happier at Quincy. Neither my habits, nor
my education, or inclinations have led me to an ex-

VEXATIOUS HONORS 251
pensive style of living, so that on that score I have
little to mourn over. If I did not rise with dignity,
I can at least fall with ease, which is the more diffi
cult task. I wish your father's circumstances were
not so limited and circumscribed, as they must be,
because he cannot indulge himself in those Improve
ments upon his farm, which his inclination leads
him to, and which would serve to amuse him, and
contribute to his health. I feel not any resentment
against those who are coming into power, and only
wish the future administration of the government
may be as productive of the peace, happiness, and
prosperity of the nation, as the two former ones
have been. I leave to time the unfolding of a
drama. I leave to posterity to reflect upon the
times past; and I leave them characters to contem
plate. My own intention is to return to Quincy as
soon as I conveniently can ; I presume in the month
of January."
It was at this trying time that the seat of gov
ernment was transferred to Washington. What
the President's wife thought of the raove is ap
parent from the foUowing letters to her daughter:
"I arrived here on Sunday last, and without meet
ing with any accident worth noticing, except losing
ourselves when we left Baltimore, and going eight

252 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
or nine miles on the Frederick road, by which means
we were obliged to go the other eight through
woods, where we wandered two hours without find
ing a guide, or the path. Fortunately, a straggling
black came up with us, and we engaged him as a
guide, to extricate us out of our difficulty; but
woods are all you see, from Baltimore until you
reach the city, which is only so in name. Here and
there is a small cot, without a glass window, inter
spersed amongst the forests, through which you
travel miles without seeing any human being. In
the city there are buildings enough. If they were
compact and finished, to accommodate Congress and
those attached to it; but as they are, and scattered
as they are, I see no great comfort for them. The
river, which mns up to Alexandria, Is In full view
of my window, and I see the vessels as they pass
and repass. The house is upon a grand and superb
scale, requiring about thirty servants to attend and
keep the apartments In proper order, and perform
the ordinary business of the house and stables; an
establishment very well proportioned to the Presi
dent's salary. The lighting the apartments, from
the kitchen to parlors and chambers, is a tax indeed ;
and the fires we are obliged to keep to secure us
from daily agues Is another very cheering comfort.

South Elevation of the President's House
Copied from the design of proposed alterations, 1807

VEXATIOUS HONORS 253
To assist us in this great castle, and render less
attendance necessary, bells are wholly wanting, not
one single one being hung through the whole house,
and promises are all you can obtain. This is so
great an Inconvenience, that I know not what to
do, or how to do. The ladies from Georgetown
and In the city have many of them visited me.
Yesterday I returned fifteen visits, — but such a place
as Georgetown appears, — why, our Milton is beauti
ful. But no comparisons; — if they will put me up
some bells, and let me have wood enough to keep
fires, I design to be pleased. I could content my
self almost anywhere three months ; but, surrounded
with forests, can you believe that wood is not to be
had, because people cannot be found to cut and
cart It ! Briesler entered into a contract with a man
to supply him with wood. A smaU part, a few cords
only, has he been able to get. Most of that was
expended to dry the walls of the house before we
came in, and yesterday the man told him it was im
possible for him to procure it to be cut and carted.
He has had recourse to coals; but we cannot get
grates made and set. We have. Indeed, come into
a new country.
"You must keep aU this to yourself, and, when
asked how I like it, say that I write you the situation

254 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
is beautiful, which Is true. The house is made habit
able, but there is not a single apartment finished,
and all withinside, except the plastering, has been
done since Briesler came. We have not the least
fence, yard, or other convenience, without, and the
great unfinished audience-room I make a drying-
room of, to hang' up the clothes in. The principal
stairs are not up, and will not be this winter. Six
chambers are made comfortable; two are occupied
by the President and Mr. Shaw ; two lower rooms,
one for a common parlor, and one for a levee-room.
Up stairs there is the oval room, which is designed
for the drawing-room, and has the crimson furni
ture in it. It is a very handsome room now; but,
when completed, it will be beautiful. If the twelve
years, in which this place has been considered as
the future seat of government, had been improved,
as they would have been if in New England, very
many of the present inconveniences would have been
removed. It is a beautiful spot, capable of every
improvement, and, the more I view It, the more I
am delighted with it." "27 November, 1800.
"I received your letter by Mr. Pintard. Two
articles we are much distressed for ; the one is bells.

VEXATIOUS HONORS 255
but the more important one is wood. Yet you can
not see wood for trees. No arrangement has been
made, but by promises never perforraed, to supply
the new-comers with fuel. Of the promises Bries
ler has received his fuU share. He had procured
nine cords of wood; between six and seven of that
was kindly burnt up to dry the walls of the house,
which ought to have been done by the commission
ers, but which, if left to them, would have remained
undone to this day. Congress poured in, but shiver,
shiver. No woodcutters nor carters to be had at
any rate. We are now indebted to a Pennsylvania
waggon to bring us, through the first clerk in the
Treasury office, one cord and a half of wood, which
is all we have for this house, where twelve fires are
constantly required, and where, we are told, the
roads will soon be so bad that it cannot be drawn.
Briesler procured two hundred bushels of coals or
we must have suffered. This Is the situation of
almost every person. The public officers have sent
to Philadelphia for woodcutters and waggons.
"You wiU read in the answer of the House to
the President's Speech a fuU and explicit approba
tion of the Administration; a cooperation with him
equal to his utmost expectations ; this passed with-

256 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
out an amendment or any debate or squabble, and
has just now been delivered by the House In a body.
The vessel which has my clothes and other matters
is not arrived. The ladies are impatient for a
drawing-room; I have no looking-glasses but
dwarfs for this house; nor a twentieth part lamps
enough to light it. Many things were stolen, many
more broken, by the removal ; amongst the number,
my tea china is raore than half missing. George
town affords nothing. My rooms are very pleas
ant and warm whilst the doors of the haU are
closed. "You can scarce believe that here in this wilder
ness city, I should find my time so occupied as it
is. My visitors, some of them, come three and
four miles. The return of one of them is the work
of one day; most of the ladies reside in George
town or in scattered parts of the city at two and
three miles distance. Mrs. Otis, my nearest neigh
bour, is at lodgings almost half a mile from me;
Mrs. Senator Otis, two miles.
"We have all been very well as yet; if we can by
any means get wood, we shaU not let our fires go
out, but it is at a price indeed; from four dollars
It has risen to nine. Some say it will fall, but there

VEXATIOUS HONORS 257
must be more industry than is to be found here to
bring half enough to the market for the consump
tion of the Inhabitants.
"With kind remembrance to all friends,
- "I am your truly affectionate mother,
"A. A."
John Cotton Smith, Member of Congress from
Connecticut, adds these details :
"One wing of the Capitol only had been erected,
which with the President's House, a mUe distant
from It, both constructed with white sandstone, were
striking objects In dismal contrast with the scene
around them. Instead of recognizing the avenues
and streets, pourtrayed on the plan of the city, not
one was visible, unless we except a road with two
buildings on each side of it, called the New Jersey
Avenue. The Pennsylvania, leading, as laid down
on paper, from the Capitol to the Presidential Man
sion, was then nearly the whole distance a deep
morass, covered with alder bushes, which were cut
through the width of the intended avenue the then
ensuing winter. . . . The roads in every direction
were muddy and unimproved; a sidewalk was at
tempted In one Instance by a covering formed of
the chips of the stones which had been hewed from

258 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
the Capitol. It extended but a little way, and was
of little value, for in dry weather the sharp frag
ments cut our shoes, and In wet weather covered
them with white mortar."
Mrs. Adams was to have only four months of
this disturbed existence. The climate of Wash
ington, the general discomfort added to anxiety and
distress of mind, made her ill, and she left the city
before Mr. Adaras did. During her short stay,
however, she won the admiration of all by the dig
nity, grace and judgment with which she fiUed a
most difficult position. She never lost her cheerful
ness. "I am a mortal enemy," she said, "to any
thing but a cheerful countenance and a merry heart,
which Solomon teUs us, does good like a medicine."
So In those dark days, when the tide of abuse and
calumny raged around her beloved husband, she
was more than ever the lamp that lighted and the
fire that warmed him. Whatever was said of him
— and one fancies that "hyena" and "crocodile"
were mild epithets compared with those showered
on the brave old statesman, — no one had anything
but praise for Mrs. Adams. On January ist, 1801,
was held the first New Year's reception at the White
House. She received the guests with her own calm
grace and dignity. No one would have guessed that

VEXATIOUS HONORS 259
the house was half finished, the principal stairs stUl
lacking, her china stolen and her husband defeated ;
she was mistress, not only of the White House, but
of the situation.
The closing days of the winter must have been
painful to both Mr. and Mrs. Adams. They longed
for the end, for the permanent return to "calm,
happy Braintree," and before March came, Mrs.
Adams was already there, ready to receive her dear
est friend. One of Mr. Adams' last acts was the
appointment of John Marshall as chief-justice of
the supreme court ; for this alone, he would deserve
the lasting gratitude of the American people. He
could not meet Jefferson, whom he had once loved,
with whom he had toiled, suffered, triumphed, by
whom he was now defeated. On March 3rd, 1801,
he labored far into the night, signing commissions,
arranging papers in his own methodical way, clos
ing, as It were, his. accounts with a nation which
he could not but think ungrateful. Early on the
morning of the 4th, while the city was stUl wrapped
In slumber, he entered his carriage and left Wash
ington forever.

CHAPTER XII
AFTERNOON AND EVENING
IT was not in the little "hut" of former days
that Portia awaited her dearest friend. A state
lier dwelling was theirs henceforth, the house built
by Leonard Vassall, a West India planter. It stood,
and still stands. In Its ample grounds, under Its
branching elms. The original building has received
many additions, but it is the same house to which
John Adaras carae on that spring day of 1801 ; the
home of his later life, and of three generations of
his descendants.
John Adams was now seventy-six years old, still
in the fullness of vigorous manhood. I seem to see
him entering that door, a defeated and disappointed
man, yet holding his head as high, and looking for
ward with as clear and steadfast a gaze as If he
were come home in triumph. He might be angry,
he might be hurt; but no injury could bow the head,
or bend the broad shoulders, of him who had once
been acclaimed as the Atlas of Independence. Thus
260

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 261
seeing him, I cannot but recall the summing up of
his character by another strong man, Theodore
Parker, the preacher.
"The judgment of posterity will be, that he was
a brave man, deep-sighted, conscientious, patriotic,
and possessed of Integrity which nothing ever
shook, but which stood firm as the granite of his
Quincy Hills. While American Institutions con
tinue, the People will honor brave, honest old John
Adam^, who never failed his country in her hour
of need, and who, in his Ufe of more than ninety
years, though both passionate and ambitious,
wronged no man nor any woman.
"Ahd aU the people shaU say Amen!"
In this peaceful and pleasant home, Mr. and Mrs.
Adams were to pass the rest of their days. They
wasted no time In repining; they were thankful to
be at home, eager to enjoy the fruits of leisure and
the quiet mind. By early May, Mrs. Adams was
setting out raspberry bushes and strawberry vines,
and working daily in her dairy. She sends word to
her daughter that she might see her at five o'clock
In the moming, skimming her milk.
She was not the only busy one. "You wIU find
your father," she writes to her son Thomas, "in his
fields, attending to his hay-makers. . . . The crops

262 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
of hay have been abundant; upon this spot, where
eight years ago we cut scarcely six tons, we now
have thirty."
Mr. Josiah Quincy, in his "Figures of the Past,"
gives us delightful glimpses of Mr. and Mrs. Adams.
He was a child of five when he used to gaze in won
der at the second President In Quincy meeting
house. "The President's pew was conspicuous in the re
constructed edifice, and there the old man was to
be seen at every service. An air of respectful def
erence to John Adams seemed to pervade the build
ing. The ministers brought their best sermons when
they came to exchange, and had a certain conscious
ness in their manner, as if officiating before roy
alty. The medley of stringed and wind instruments
in the gallery — a survival of the sacred trumpets
and shawms mentioned by King David — seemed to
the Imagination of a child to be making discord to
gether In honor of the venerable chief who was the
centre of interest."
As Josiah Quincy recalls his childhood, so the
old President loved to recall his own. "I shall
never forget," he would say, "the rows of vener
able heads ranged along those front benches which.

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 263
as a young fellow, I used to gaze upon. They were
as old and gray as mine is now."
When he was six, Josiah Quincy was put to school
to the Reverend Peter Whitney, and, while there,
was often asked to dine at the Adams house of a
Sunday. "This was at first," he says, "somewhat
of an ordeal for a boy ; but the genuine kindness of
the President, who had not the smallest chip of an
iceberg in his composition, soon made me perfectly
at ease in his society." With Mrs. Adams, he
found "a shade more formality" ; but this wore off,
and he became much attached to her. "She always
dressed handsomely, and her rich silks and laces
seemed appropriate to a lady of her dignified posi
tion in the town." He adds :
"I weU remember the modest dinner at the Presi
dent's, to which I brought a school-boy's appetite.
The pudding, generally composed of boiled corn-
meal, always constituted the first course. This was
the custom of the time, — it being thought desirable
to take the edge off one's hunger before reaching
the joint. Indeed, it was considered wise to stimu
late the young to fill themselves with pudding, by
the assurance that the boy who managed to eat the
most of it should be helped most abundantly to the
meat, which was to follow. It need not be said

264 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
that neither the winner nor his competitors found
much room for meat at the close of their contest;
and so the doraestic econoray of the arrangement
was very apparent. Miss Smith, a niece of Mrs.
Adaras, was an inmate of the President's faraily,
and one of these ladies always carved. Mr. Adams
raade his contribution to the service of the table in
the form of that good-humoured, easy banter, which
makes a dinner of herbs more digestible than is a
stalled ox without it. At a late period of our ac
quaintance, I find preserved in my journals frequent
though too meagre reports of his conversation. But
of the time of which I ara writing there is not a
word discoverable. I can distinctly picture to my
self a certain iron spoon which the old gentleman
once fished up from the depths of a pudding in
which it had been unwittingly cooked; but of the
pleasant things he said In those easy dinner-talks no
trace remains."
Henry Bradshaw Fearon, an EngUshman who
visited the Adamses in 1817, gives this description
of the dinner :
"ist course a pudding made of Indian corn, mo
lasses and butter. 2nd, veal, bacon, neck of mutton,
potatoes, cabbages, carrots and Indian beans, Ma
deira wine, of which each drank two glasses. We

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 265
sat down to dinner at one o'clock. At two nearly
all went a second time to church. For tea we had
pound cake, wheat bread and butter, and bread raade
out of Indian corn and rye. Tea was brought from
the kitchen and handed round by a neat white serv
ant girl. The topics of conversation were various :
England, America, politics, literature, science and
Dr. Priestley, Miss Edgeworth, Mrs. SIddons, Mr.
Kean, France, Shakespeare, Moore, Lord Byron,
Cobbett, American Revolution, the traitor. Gen. Ar
nold. . . . The establishment of the political pa
triarch consists of a house two stories high, con
taining, I believe, eight rooms; of two men and
three maidservants, three horses and a plain car
riage." Mrs. Adams' strength continued to decline,
though her spirits never flagged. She writes to her
sister, Mrs. Shaw, in June, 1809:
"I was unable to reply to my dear sister's letter
of May 19th when I received It, being visited by St.
Anthony, who scourged me most cruelly. I am sure
I wished well to the Spanish patriots. In their late
struggle for liberty, and I bore no Ul-wiU to those
whose tutelar saint, thus unprovoked, beset me. I
wish he had been preaching to the fishes, who, ac
cording to tradition, have been his hearers; for so

266 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
ill did he use me, that I came near losing my senses.
I think he must be a very bigoted saint, a favorer
of the Inquisition, and a tyrant. If such are the
penances of saints, I hope to hold no further inter
course with them. For four days and nights my
face was so swelled and Inflamed, that I was al
most blind. It seemed as though my blood boUed.
Until the third day, when I sent for the doctor, I
knew not what the matter was. It confined me for
ten days. My face is yet red ; but I rode out today,
and feel much better. I think a little journey would
be of service to me ; but I find, as years and Infirm
ities increase, my courage and enterprise diminish.
Ossian says, 'Age is dark and unlovely.' When I
look in my glass, I do not much wonder at the story
related of a very celebrated painter, Zeuxis, who,
it is said, died of laughing at a comical picture he
had made of an old woman. If our glass flatters
us in youth, it tells us truths in age. The cold hand
of death has frozen up some of the streams of our
early friendships; the congelation is gaining upon
vital powers and marking us for the tomb. 'May
we so number our days as to apply our hearts unto
wisdom.' "The man is yet unborn, who duly weighs an hour.

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 267
'¦^Iien my family was young around me, I used
to find more leisure, and think I could leave It with
less anxiety than I can now. There is not any occa
sion for detailing the whys and wherefores. It Is
said. If riches increase, those increase that eat them ;
but what shall we say, when the eaters increase with
out the wealth ? You know, my dear sister, if there
be bread enough, and to spare, unless a prudent at
tention manage that sufficiency, the fruits of dili
gence will be scattered by the hand of dissipation.
No man ever prospered in the world without the
consent and cooperation of his wife. It behoves us,
who are parents or grandparents, to give our daugh
ters and granddaughters, when their education de
volves upon us, such an education as shall qualify
them for the useful and domestic duties of life, that
they should learn the proper use and Improvement
of time, since 'time was given for use, not waste.'
The finer accomplishments, such as music, dancing,
and painting, serve to set off and embellish the pic
ture ; but the groundwork must be formed of more
durable colors.
"I consider it as an Indispensable requisite, that
every American wife should herself know how to
order and regulate her family; how to govern her
domestics, and train up her children. For this pur-

268 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
pose, the all-wise Creator made woman an help-meet
for man, and she who fails in these duties does not
answer the end of her creation.
Life's cares are comforts ; such by Heaven designed ;
They that have none must make them, or be wretched.
Cares are employments, and, without employ.
The soul is on a rack, the rack of rest.
I have frequently said to my friends, when they
have thought me overburdened with cares, I would
rather have too much than too Uttle. Life stag
nates without action. I could never bear merely to
vegetate; Waters stagnate when they cease to flow."
Some of the most delightful letters of her later
years are addressed to her granddaughter, Caroline
Smith. The two following ones give a lively pic
ture of her daily life.
"Your letter, my dear Caroline, gave me pleas
ure. As all yours are calculated to enliven the spir
its, I take them as a cordial, which during the resi
dence of the bald-pated winter and a close confine
ment to my chamber for several weeks, I have been
much In want of. And now what return can I make
you? What can you expect from age, debility and
weakness ?
"Why, you shall have the retum of a grateful

AFTE^iNOON AND EVENING 269
heart, which amidst infirmities is not Insensible to
the many blessings which encompass It. Food, rai
ment and fuel, dear and kind friends and relatives,
mental food and entertainment sufficient to satisfy
the craving appetite, and the hopes and prospect of
another and better country, even an heavenly.
Eternal power ! from whom these blessings flow.
Teach me still more to wonder — more to know.
Here round my home still lift my soul to thee.
And let me ever midst thy bounties raise
An humble note of thankfulness and praise.
"Although my memory Is not so tenacious as in
youth, nor my eye-sight so clear, my hearing Is un
impaired, my heart warm and my affections are as
fervent to those in whom 'my days renew' as for
merly to those from 'whom my days I drew.' I
have some troubles In the loss of friends by death,
and no small solicitude for the motherless offspring,
but my trust and confidence are in that being who
'hears the young ravens when they cry.' I do not
know, my dear Caroline, that I ever gave you en
couragement to expect me at the valley, although I
should rejoice to be able to visit you — but I now
look forward with the hope of seeing you here as
an attendant upon your mother as soon as the spring
opens and the roads will permit.

270 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
"We have snow by the cargo this winter. Not a
bird flits but a hungry crow now and then, in quest
of prey. The fruit trees exhibit a mournful pic
ture, broken down by the weight of the snow;
whilst the running of sleighs and the jingle of beUs
assures us that aU nature does not slumber.
"As If you love me, proverbially, you must love
my dog, you will be glad to learn that Juno yet lives,
although like her mistress she is gray with age.
She appears to enjoy life and to be grateful for the
attention paid her. She wags her tail and announces
a visitor whenever one appears.
"Adieu, my dear child — remember me with affec
tion to your brother and with kind affection to your
honored father and also to your uncle whose benevo
lent qualities I respect and whose cheerful spirits
have made 'the wilderness to smile and blossom as
the rose.' Most affectionately, "Your Grandmother,
"Abigail Adams."
"Quincy, 19 November, 1812.
"My Dear Caroline:
"Your neat, pretty letter, looking small, but con
taining much, reached me this day. I have a good
mind to give you the journal of the day.

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 271
"Six o'clock. Rose, and, in imitation of his Brit
annic Majesty, kindled my own fire. Went to the
stairs, as usual, to summon George and Charles.
Returned to my chamber, dressed myself. No one
stirred. Called a second time, with a voice a little
raised. "Seven o'clock. Blockheads not out of bed.
Girls In motion. Mean, when I hire another man
servant, that he shall come for one call.
"Eight o'clock. Fires made, breakfast prepared.
L  in Boston. Mrs. A. at the tea-board. For
got the sausages. Susan's recollection brought them
upon the table.
"Enter Ann. 'Ma'am, the man is come with
coals.' " 'Go, call George to assist him.' {Exit Ann.)
"Enter Charles. 'Mr. B  is come with cheese,
turnips, etc. Where are they to be put?' 'I wiU
attend to him myself.' {Exit Charles.)
"Just seated at the table again.
"Enter George with, 'Ma'am, here is a man with
a drove of pigs.' A consultation is held upon this
important subject, the result of which is the pur
chase of two spotted swine.
"Nine o'clock. Enter Nathaniel, from the upper
house, with a message for sundries; and black

272 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
Thomas's daughter, for sundries. Attended to all
these concerns. A little out of sorts that I could
not finish my breakfast. Note : never to be incom
moded with trifles.
"Enter George Adams, from the post-office, — a
large packet from Russia,^ and from the valley also.
Avaunt, all cares, — I put you aU aside, — and thus I
find good news from a far country, — children,
grandchildren, all well. I had no expectation of
hearing from Russia this winter, and the pleasure
was the greater to obtain letters of so recent a date,
and to learn that the family were all in health. For
this blessing give I thanks.
"At twelve o'clock, by a previous engagement, I
was to call at Mr. G  's for Cousin B. Smith
to accompany me to the bridge at Quincy-port, be
ing the first day of passing It. The day was pleas
ant; the scenery delightful. Passed both bridges,
and entered Hingham. Returned before three
o'clock. Dined, and,
"At five, went to Mr. T. G  's, with your
grandfather; the third visit he has made with us
in the week; and let me whisper to you he played
at whist with Mr. J. G  , who was as ready and
'John Quincy Adams was at this time Ambassador at St.
Petersburg.

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 273
accurate as though he had both eyes to see with.
Returned. "At nine, sat down and wrote a letter.
"At eleven, retired to bed. We do not so every
week. I teU It you as one of the marvels of the
age. By aU this, you will learn that grandmother
has got rid of her croaking, and that grandfather
is in good health, and that both of us are as tran
quil as that bald old fellow, called Time, will let
us be.
"And here I was interrupted In my narrative.
"I re-assume my pen upon the 22d of Novem
ber, being this day sixty-eight years old. How
many reflections occur to me upon this anniver
sary! "What have I done for myself or others in this
long period of my sojourn, that I can look back
upon with pleasure, or reflect upon with approba
tion? Many, very many follies and errors of judg
ment and conduct rise up before me, and ask for
giveness of that Being, who seeth Into the secret
recesses of the heart, and from whom nothing is
hidden. I think I may with truth say, that in no
period of my life have the vile passions had control
over me. I bear no enmity to any human being;
, but, alas ! as Mrs. Placid said to her friend, by

274 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
which of thy good works wouldst thou be willing to
be judged? I do not believe, with some divines,
that all our good works are but as filthy rags ; the
example which our great Master has set before us,
of purity, benevolence, obedience, submission and
humility, are virtues which, if faithfully practised,
will find their reward; or why has he pronounced
so many benedictions upon them in his sermon on
the mount ? I would ask with the poet.
Is not virtue in mankind
The nutriment that feeds the mind.
Then who, with reason, can pretend
That all effects of virtue end ?
I am one of those who are willing to rejoice al
ways. My disposition and habits are not of the
gloomy kind. I believe that 'to enjoy is to obey.'
Yet not to Earth's contracted span.
Thy goodness let me bound;
Or think thee Lord alone of man.
Whilst thousand worlds are round."
This period of quiet retirement did not lack its
thrills of interest, public and private. Europe
was in the throes of the Napoleonic Wars, a con
flict surpassed In bitterness only by that of our
own day. In due time came our own War of 1812,
and for three years this country was in a continual

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 275
state of alarm. On December 30th, 1812, Mrs.
Adams writes to her friend of many years, Mrs.
Mercy Warren :
"So long as we are Inhabitants of this earth and
possess any of our faculties, we cannot be indiffer
ent to the state of our country, our posterity and
our friends. Personally we have arrived so near
the close of the drama that we can experience but
few of the evils which await the rising generation.
We have passed through one revolution and have
happily arrived at the goal, but the ambition, in
justice and plunder of foreign powers have again
Involved us In war, the termination of which Is not
given us to see.
"If we have not 'the gorgeous palaces of the
cloud-capp'd towers' of Moscow to be levelled with
the dust, nor a million of victims to sacrifice upon
the altar of ambition, we have our firesides, our
comfortable habitations, our cities, our churches and
our country to defend, our rights, privileges and in
dependence to preserve. And for these are we not
justly contending? Thus it appears to me; yet I
hear from our pulpits and read from our presses
that it is an unjust, a wicked, a ruinous and un
necessary war. If I give an opinion with respect
to the conduct of our native State, I cannot do

276 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
it with approbation. She has had much to com
plain of as it respected a refusal of naval protec
tion, yet that cannot justify her in paralyzing the
arm of government when raised for her defence
and that of the nation. A house divided against It
self — and upon that foundation do our enemies
build their hopes of subduing us. May it prove a
sandy one to them.
/ "You once asked what does Mr. Adams think of
Napoleon? The reply was, I think, that after hav
ing been the scourge of nations, he should himself
be destroyed. We have seen him run an astonishing
career. Is not his measure full? Like Charles the
XII of Sweden, he may find in Alexander another
Peter. Much, my friends, might we moralize upon
these great events, but we know but in part and
we see but in part. The longer I live, the more
wrapt in clouds and darkness does the future appear
to me."
British cruisers patrolled the New England coast,
and could frequently be seen from the upper win
dows of the Quincy houses. If Mrs. Adams had
climbed Penn's HiU on June ist, 1813, she could
have watched the naval duel between the Chesa
peake and the Shannon, as in 1776 she had watched
the burning of Charlestown.

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 277
A few months later, the neighborhood of Bos
ton assumed once more the military aspect of forty
years before. "Troops from Berkshire were quar
tered in Dorchester, at Neponset Bridge, generally
considered the last outpost toward the enemy, who.
It was thought, would land on Mr. Quincy's farm.
One Sunday, a report came that the British had
actuaUy landed at Scituate, and were marching up
to Boston. The drums beat to arms ; and the elders,
who remembered the Revolution, Increased the trepi
dation of their juniors by anecdotes of devastation.
These apprehensions were much exaggerated." ^
In the midst of these alarms, John and Abigail
Adams celebrated their golden wedding. "Yester
day," she writes to a granddaughter on the 26th
of October, 1814, "yesterday completes half a cen
tury since I entered the married state, then just
your age. I have great cause of thankfulness, that
I have lived so long and enjoyed so large a portion
of happiness as has been my lot. The greatest
source of unhappiness I have known in that period
has arisen from the long and cruel separations
which I was called, in a time of war and with a
young family around me, to submit to."
In the sariie house, their son, John Quincy Adams,
'"Memoir of S. E. M. Quincy."

278 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
and their grandson Charles Francis Adams, were in
tjme to celebrate their golden weddings; a notable
series of festivals. ,
A member of the Adams family tells me the Sec
ond President "has the reputation In the family of
being very high tempered, and it is said that when
he wrote letters which his wife thought unwise, she
would hold them back and give them to him a week
or so later, saying she thought perhaps he would
prefer to change them! The singular thing was
that he apparently never resented the tampering
with his correspondence."
There can be no stronger proof than this of the
oneness of this remarkable couple. President John
may have been high tempered, but I fancy there
are few men of today who would receive with meek
ness such action on the part of their wives.
The winter of 1814-15 opened gloomily enough.
There seemed no Immediate prospect of peace. Ac
cordingly, when, on the 14th day of February, 1815,
the bells began to ring, people merely said, "Fire!"
and looked out of window for the smoke. There
was no smoke till the bonfires sprang up at night.
More and more joyfully the beUs pealed, tiU all
knew that the war was over, that peace had been
declared. Boston and Quincy and aU the other

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 379
neighboring towns went mad with; joy. "The whole
population were abroad, all classes congratulating
each; other on; the happy tidings. Almost every
house displayed a flag. Drums beat ; cannon fired ;
the military were In motion. Sailors In large sleds,
each drawn by fifteen horses, — the word' 'Peace'
In capitals on the hat of the foremost man, — greeted
everyone with loud huzzas. The joy and exulta
tion were in proportion to the previous fear and
despondency. It was a day never to be forgotten." ^
There were to be no more alarms for Abigail
Adams; no more thunder of cannon or marching
of troops : the rest of her life was peace. She had
the joy of welcoming her eldest son, after his for
eign service of eight long years, and of seeing him
appointed Secretary of State. This, her grandson
thinks, was the crowning mercy of her life. A few
years more, and she might have seen him exalted to
the loftier office which his father had held ; but this
was not to be. In October, 1818, she was stricken
with typhus fever; and on the 28th day of that
month, she died.
In closing the record of such a life as this, one
longs for some perfect tribute which may, fitly sum
•"Memoii-. of: S. E. M. Quincy."

a8o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
it up. I find this tribute. In the words of Josiah
Quincy : "Clear and shedding blessings to the last,
her sun sank below the horizon, beaming with the
same mild strength and pure radiance which distin
guished its meridian."
Another beautiful word was that of President
Kirkland of Harvard University, spoken at Mrs.
Adams' funeral:
"Ye seek to mourn, bereaved friends, as becomes
Christians, in a manner worthy of the person you
lament. You do, then, bless the Giver of life, that
the course of your endeared and honored friend was
so long and so bright ; that she entered so fully into
the spirit of these injunctions which we have ex
plained, and was a minister of blessings to all within
her influence. You are soothed to reflect that she
was sensible of the many tokens of divine goodness
which marked her lot; that she received the good of
her existence with a cheerful and grateful heart;
that, when called to weep, she bore adversity with
an equal mind ; that she used the world as not abus
ing it to excess, improving well her time, talents,
and opportunities, and, though desired longer in this
world, was fitted for a better happiness than this
world can give."
¦John Adams survived his dearest friend by eight

AFTERNOON AND EVENING 281
years, preserving his faculties to the last, clear-
minded and vehement as on the day when he signed
the Declaration of Independence. At noon on the
fiftieth anniversary of the "day of deliverance,"
amid the "pomp and parade," the "shows, games,
sports, guns, beUs, bonfires, and Illuminations,"
which he had bespoken for it, his valiant spirit
passed from earth. His last words were, "Thomas
Jefferson still survives!" This was not the case.
His ancient colleague, at one time his bitter oppon
ent, but of late years once more his affectionate
friend, had died an hour before. |
Husband and wife lie side by side, under the por
tico of the First Church of Quincy, a building given
by Mr. Adams to his beloved town. On the walls
of that church are inscribed their epitaphs, which
may most fitly close this simple record.
libertatem, amicitiam, fidem, retinebis
D. O. M.
beneath these walls
are deposited the mortal remains of
JOHN ADAMS.
son of JOHN AND SUZANNA (BOYLSTON) ADAMS,
SECOND PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES;
BORN ll OCTOBER, 1735.

ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1776,
HE PLEDGED HIS LIFE. FORTUNE, AND SACKED HONOR
TO THE

INDEPENDENCE OF HIS COUNTRY.

ON THE THIRD OF SEPTEMBER, 1783,
HE AFFIXED HIS SEAL TO THE DEFINITIVE TREATY WITH
GREAT BRITAIN,
WHICH ACKNOWLEDGED THAT INDEPENDENCE,
AND CONSUMMATED THE REDEMPTION OF HIS PLEDGE.
ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1826,
HE WAS SUMMONED
TO THE INDEPENDENCE OF IMMORTALITY,
AND TO THE

JUDGMENT OF HIS GOD.

THIS HOUSE 'WILL BEAR WITNESS TO HIS PIETY;
THIS TOWN. HIS BIRTHPLACE, TO HIS MUNIFICENCE;
HISTORY TO HIS PATRIOTISM:
POSTERITY TO THE DEPTH AND COMPASS OF HIS MIND.

AT HIS SIDE
SLEEPS, TILL THE TRUMP SHALL SOUND,

ABIGAIL,

HIS BELOVED AND ONLY WIFE,
DAUGHTER OF WILLIAM AND ELIZABETH (QUINCY) SMITH;
IN EVERY RELATION OF LIFE A PATTERN
OF FILIAL, CONJUGAL, MATERNAL, AND SOCIAL VIRTUE.
BORN NOVEMBER ^j' 1744,
DECEASED 28 OCTOBER, 1818,
AGED 74.
282

MARRIED 25- OCTOBER, 1764.
DURING AN UNION OF MORE THAN HALF A CENTURY
THEY SURVIVED, IN HARMONY OF SENTIMENT, PRINCIPLE,
AND AFFECTION,
THE TEMPESTS OF CIVIL COMMOTION;
MEETING UNDAUNTED AND SURMOUNTING
THE TERRORS AND TRIALS OF THAT REVOLUTION,
WHICH SECURED THE FREEDOM OF THEIR COUNTRY;
IMPROVED THE CONDITION OF THEIR TIMES;
AND BRIGHTENED THE PROSPECTS OF FUTURITY
TO THE RACE OF MAN UPON EARTH.

PILGRIM.
FROM LIVES THUS SPENT THY EARTHLY DUTIES LEARN;
FROM FANCY'S DREAMS TO ACTIVE VIRTUE TURN:
LET FREEDOM, FRIENDSHIP. FAITH, THY SOUL ENGAGE.
AND SERVE, LIKE THEM, THY COUNTRY AND THY AGE.

O)

This preservation copy
was printed and bound at
Bridgeport National Bindery, Inc.,
in compliance with U.S. copyright law.
The paper used meets the requirements
of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992
(Permanence of Paper).
R s D c
@ 2001

Date Due
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