Book . U'ni copyKioiir Di OUR EARLY PRESIDENTS THEIR WIVES AND CHILDR EN /£ ^ / FROM WASHINGTON TO JAC KSON MRS. HARRIET TAYLOR UPTON : 8 8.1 I'fll,, ILLU STKAT F.n D LOTHROP COMPANY WAS„,.C.TO. STKEET OPPOSITE BROMP.H.. U7I do n COI'YRIC.HT, 1890, IIY D. LoiHKor Company. vicK & Smith, UnsTos, U.S.A. PREFACE. The personal history of noted ineu and women is ahvaj's interesting ; the family traits of " great folks," their manner of life, their surroundings, their homes and their occupations, always emphasize in the public mind the characters or achievements that have made famous the family head. As Americans we are always interested in the early life of the Republic and in the family histories of the men who helped to found the Republic and start a nation on the high road to greatness. The seven presidents, whose families the author Jias in this volume at tempted to photograph, are known as the " historic presidents," and were those concerned in the early making of the .'American Republic. In the hope that in their home life the gentle dignity and the refined simplicity, the unconventional manners and the marked unostentation that were the predominant features of this home life, the author trusts that the young and better environed Americans of to- day may find much to commend and much to emulate as a legacy of the "days of the fathers." Family letters of the various Presidential households, their private records and diaries, their personal recollections and researches, have furnished for the most part material of this volume ; nevertheless the author is under much obligation to general biographical and historical literature, particularly to the Afagaziiic of American History, edited by Mrs. Martha J. Lamb. The portraits and illustrations are directly from the original paintings and family relics. The descendants and representatives of the various families have most heartily and abl\- co-operated in the preparation of the work, and so thorough has been the personal revision and substantiation that it is believed that the entire statement may be relied upon for perfect accuracy. Chapter I. Chaptrr II. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter L Chapter II. THE FAMILY (.)F GE(.IRGE WASHINGTON. John Parke Custis and Martha Parke Custis Nellie Custis and George Washington Parke Custis II. THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. In Quixcv .......... In Europe .......... After the Revolution .... III. THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. School-Days in France ....... Philadelphia and the White House . . . . At Monticello ......... IV. THE FAMILY OF JAMES MADISON. At Montpelier In Washington After the Presidency ....... V. THE FAMILY OF JAMES MONROE. Abroad .......... At Home . 73 96 149 162 169 191 204 243 261 COATK.yJS. Chapitr Cluipler CluipUr CluifUr Cli,ipi,-r Chapter VI. Till-; KAMIIV (•! loIlN (_il-INiiincy Adams when a boy Silver Cotfce-pot owned by John .\dams Mrs. John .Xdams's fan .......... Inside front cover and lir.-.t page of the Diary begun by John (^iiincy .\il age of eleven, reduced about one half ...... I'ages ten and twelve of the Diary Mrs. William S. Smith (Abigail .\dams) One of the John .Xdams spoons I'residcnt John Adams ... Abigail Adams (Mrs. John Adams) Letter from Mr. John Adams Charles .\dams in his youth Thomxs liiiylston Adams at twenty-three Facsimile autograph letter by John .\dams, much reduced in size '• A reward of industry " John Quincy .Xdains — Mrs. John ion Bracelet, willi cameo head of Clirlsl Kac-simile letter Oak Mill, the home of {'resident Monroe Prcsiilenl James Monroe .... Kac simile fragment of poem by Maria Monroe- Sanuiel I,. Gouverneur Mantel and mirror at Oak Hill, presented to Prcsi Chinese gong in bronze with carved stand Fac-simile poem by Samuel L. CJouverneur, Jr. dent Monroe by Lafavette VI. — TlIK F.VMII.Y OF JcUlN QlMNCV ADAMS. .\ White House baby John Quincy Adams Some White House fans Mrs. John (Juincy .Xdams President John Quincy Adams Ten support Family record leaf .... George Washington Adani> John Adams Charles Francis Adams at nineteen The " Dorothy Q." of to-day . An .Abigail Adams of to-day . White House toys Mary Louisa Adams, born in the White House Dress worn by Mary Louisa Ad.ims at her christening in the White House The christening present The I'atroon's inscription "Sally," the White House doll The inscription in the Iliblc Mrs. John Quincy Adams John Quincy Adams The old Adams house at Quincy VII — TiiK HoisKiioi.D OF Anhrkw Jackson. J.ickson carriage, made from the war-ship " Old Ironsides LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jactcson 339 President Andrew Jackson 341 The first Hermitage ; still standing 346 Andrew Jackson, adopted son of General Jackson 349 Andrew Jackson Donelson, nephew of Mrs. Jackson 353 Fac-siraile autograph letter by President Jackson 359 Mrs. Andrew Jackson Donelson (Emily Donelson) 363 " Old Hannah " and her son • . . . . 366 Silver christening cup ....■-.•■.... 370 Mrs. Andrew Jackson (Sarah Vorke) 371 The Hermitage, Home of General Andrew Jackson, near Nashville, Tenn. . . 374 Rachel Jackson (afterward Mrs. John Lawrence), grandchild of General Jackson, and his wife's namesake ; daughter of the adopted son, Andrew Jackson . . . 376 Andrew Jackson, Jr. .... . ....... 377 Rachel Donelson (afterward Mrs. Eckford) ; daughter of Andrew Jackson Donelson . 379 Some White House Jackson relics .......... 3S0 General Jackson in old age .......•■■.. 3^3 Rachel, wife of General Jackson ........... 385 Colonel Andrew Jackson, the present master of the Hermitage 388 Mrs. John Lawrence (Rachel Jackson, daughter of General Jackson's adopted son) . 389 The fourth Andrew Jackson (son of Colonel Andrew Jackson) 392 Equestrian statue of General Jackson ......... 394 THE FAMILY OF GEORGE IVASHINGTON. THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. CHAPTER I. JOHN PARKE CUSTIS AND MARTHA PARKE CUSTIS. MRb M^Kl H \ LLbllb T is said that tlie name by which the people at large call the Executive Man- sion, the " White House," had its origin in a pretty sentiment, as creditable to us as it is romantic ; that it was so styled be- cause the old colonial estate where the young widow Custis was living with her two little children, when George Washing- i^Pa t ted ly II ootaston at twenty fot r be/ore her marriage to George tOD firSt paid llCT his COUrt, WaS IcnOWR aS Washington ; ozofteti by Gen. Custis Lee,Lcxington,i-a.) " Wliltc Housc." It was f rom Itsdoors, "iu a gorgeous chariot," that he drove with her to St. Peter's Church not far away to make her Mrs. Washington. The wedding-day was the occasion of a great merry-making on the estate; a happy day, and the first of a long line of eventful ones in the life of its mistress. In writing herself " Martha Washington " that morning, the young dame could not have foreseen that hers then became a name to endure longer in the mind of the world than any other American woman's. 19 20 '^fll- IIMIJ-VOIGEORGJ: U.lSllIAGJOX. The tall young bridegroom was in uniform — Washington %cas tall; he stood six-feet-two in his slippers — and we know, (hough some have said " it was a fine white silk," that the small, stately bride wore a wedding dress of light brocaded salmon silk, as there is a pincushion made of a remnant of the gown — a wedding pres- ent to a young bridr of our time; it was given by Mrs. Robert E. Lee (Mary Cuslis), a lineal descendant of that little Jacky Custis who dutifully staid at home at the " White I louse "' plantation with his tiny sister Martha, while his mother went away on her bridal visits with his new father. A recent writer in Harper's Magazine visiting tlie place — still known thereabouts as the " Washington estate " because Washing- ton came in possession at the marriage — gathered up some inter- esting accounts of the wedding, that remain from the stories of old slaves who were at the ceremony. Washington, thr tradition is, was very smiling and chatty that day, "looked very youthful and hand^jome, and tripped around in a very lively manner," and "as they came out of the church the newly-united couple had a joyful a])pearance." When " the whole party got back to the ' White House,' it r.nng with laughter, merriment, music and danc- ing: a good deal of wine was drunk at the supper, which was of the genuine old-fashioned sort, Init there was no intoxication or disorderly proceedings. Washington and his bride took part in the dancing of the minuet, but retired early; the rest of the .-ussembly enjoyed their fun until a very late hour, some staying in the house all night, and others departing for their homes. .Ml the house servants were given a piece of the wedding-cake and a small gratification in money. The next morning Washington, who was an early riser, took breakfast with his bride in their chamber l>efore any of the guests had risen," and the little breakfast-table still remains on the place in the pos- session of a great-grandson of little jack\- Custis. Mrs. Custis's estate compri>ed about eight thousand acre>. It THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 2 1 lay in Southern Virginia, in New Kent County, not far from White House Landing, some thirty miles or more from Richmond. The old house of Mrs. Custis's day is gone. When the Union army, in the Civil W^ar, was marched into the region, another descendant of the same little Jacky endeavored to save the house where her young ancestress and General Washington spent the first months of their wedded life. It is said that she nailed upon the door a message to the soldiers : " Northern soldiers, who profess to revere Washington, forbear to desecrate the home of his first married life, the property of his wife, and now owned by her descendants. A Granddaughter of Mrs. Washington."' For some time the house was protected, but later — to their shame be it recorded — it was burned by some Northern soldiers who could not forget that it was the property of a Rebel ofificer. This historical wedding took place in 1759. Washington was a colonel then, and twenty-seven years old. He had inherited an estate on the Potomac, Mount Vernon, from his brother, and here presently, he brought his wife and her children. Mrs. Washington's first husband, Daniel Parke Custis, died a man of wealth, and little John and Martha were left rich. John was six years old, and Martha four, when they entered their new home, and as General Washington never had children of his own, these little people grew into his love ; he became a father to them, sharing their joys and griefs, and fitting them for life. What a glorious place the little Custises must have found Mount Vernon ! Acres of ground with fruit ; a great house filled with furniture and bric-a-brac new to them ; a long gallery where they could play on rainy days, being out-of-doors, but protected from the weather. The garden was fine, even so long ago as that 22 i'JlK JAMIJ.y OF GEORGE WASHJNGTOiX. time. 1 lie hedges of box, a luiiulred and forty years old now, were •;reen aiul handsome in their tiirifty young growth, and the great Sago palms, which visitors see now, adorned the garden in the children's day. (The four sweet-scented shrubs from another Presidential garden, Monticello, came later. JefYerson sending them; tlie family named them after their four friends: Adams, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe.) liest of all in their eyes was a huge hill which is very high and terminates in a lawn bordered by the river. Here was a chance to roll down, to run down, to race down, and a place to watch large boats, and sail little ones ; a place to wade and paddle, and to skip stones. But from all that can be learned, these pleasures were to be enjoyed circumspectly and in moderation. The children had each a young slave who followed them about and waited on them after the manner of old Southern people. We find Martha dressed like a little woman, her hair done up and adorned with egrets or " pon- pons " (ornaments of feathers and ribbons), and saying her lessons and practising on her harpsichord at regular times each day; giving her mother little trouble and often calling forth the admiration of her voung foster-father who considered her "a ladylike child of winning ways. " All the lu.xuries of the early colonists were brought from Eng- land, and were ordered once a year. I Below is named a few of the articles selected from a long list which Colonel Washington ordered for " Miss Custis " when she was six years old : " A coat made of fa.«ihionable silk. Four fa.shional>le dresses lo lit- made of Long lawn. Two fine camliric frocks. A satlin capuchin and neckatue. 1'wo pair sattin shoes. WASHINGTON S CHILDREN: JOHN PARKE CUSTIS AND MARTHA PARKK CUSTIS. {From the original painting in possession of Gen. Cttstis Lee, Lexington, Va.") THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 25 One pair silver shoe buckles. Six handsome egrets different sorts. Six yards ribbon do. One fashionable dress doll to cost a guinea. One fashionable dress doll to cost five shillings. One box Gingerbread, Toys and Sugar Images, Comfits. One very good spinet (a small harpsichord) &c." Master John fared equally well at this time — he was then eight — for his order, known as " Master Custiss," is very full. Below are a few of the items : " One handsome suit of Winter cloathes. One handsome suit of Summer cloathes very light. One silver laced hat. Two hair bags. One piece of ribbon for ditto. One pair of silver shoe and knee buckles. One pair of sleeve buttons. A neat small Prayer Book." / \ Then comes an order for a livery for a slave boy of fourteen, and the command : " Let the livery be suited to the Arms of the Custis family." Martha was a studious, attentive child, and gave herself to her lessons, which were not long ones, for in those days parents did not think it necessary to give any considerable schoolroom educa- tion to their daughters — it is safe to say that young Mrs. Wash- ington herself never felt mortification on account of the bad spelling in her letters and expense-books, and that she was not criticised or laughed at secretly by other dames of her time. Martha worked upon her sampler at certain hours, practised her exercises under her mother's instructions, and acquired much domestic knowledge as she walked about demurely at Mrs. Wash- 2b THE lAMJl.y Ol- GEORGE WASHJXGTOX. iiv'ton's side throui^li tlu- kitchens and the slave quarters; the new mistress at Mount \ernun was an exact, economical and systematic housekeeper. As for John, he was studying manfully. For a boy life always has been serious business. His young foster-father taught him en- crineering and the rudiments of military tactics, and trained him in out-of-door sports. The trim little fellow in his queue, and Washing- ton, who was a magnificent horseman, rode many miles together over the hills of Virginia, and in these excursions we find them growing very confidential. A note or two in Washington's diary which refers to these recreations, states : " Went a hunting with Jacky Custis and catched a fox after three hours' chase. I'ound it in the creek." No doubt Master Custis stood in full importance among his voung neighbors. He had his own lands, his own slaves and an income from his tobacco; in fact the care exercised by Colonel Washington to secure proper investments in behalf of his wards was much greater than he em- ployed for his own property. The entire Washington family were devoted Kpis- copalians. Every Sunday, unless the weather was too severe, they rode in a chaise to church ; but on all other occasions they traveled in a huge chariot drawn by four horses and having black postilions in liverv. I-ittle Martha dressed in feathers and finery, and John in MOlNr VKK.SD.N. Sk,'.ii»f. Jl Ikr U/l. Ikr faJlrrv xfluri Ihi .kildrtH fliyeJ i THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. his silver-lacecl hat, silver shoe buckles, hair tied with ribbon, and a colored coat, would surely create a sensation could they to- day dash along through a crowded town seated in the family chariot drawn by ele- gant horses and attended by slaves. Among the few existing family letters written by Mrs. Washington is one which portrays her heart in MRS. WASHINGTON S UED-CH/VMBER, tender colors. She is writ- ing of an absence from home. Jacky is nine years old, and Martha is seven. However modes of spelling vary and fashions in the use of capital letters, and though punctuation now generally prevails, mothers' hearts beat precisely the same to-day as in 1762. Mrs. Washington says : " I carred my little patt with me and left JaL-ky at home for a trial to see how well I could stay without him though we ware gon but wone fortnight I was quite irapatiant to get home. If I at anoy time heard the doggs bark or a noise out I thought thair was a person sent for me. I often fancied he was sik, or some accident had happenned to him. . . . I think patty seems to be quite well now, Jacky is very thin, but in good health, and learn thaire books very fast." Mrs. Wasliington was mindful that the period was drawing near wlien Jacky would be sent away to school and she must " stay without him " much longer than " wone fortnight." Master Custis, at fourteen, is away at school. His foster-father speaks of him as "a boy of good genius, untainted in his morals and of innocent manners." He goes to his tutor provided with a boy " well acquainted with house business," and with two horses to 28 '^m-- lAMIl.y OF GEOR(.iI: WASH lAC lOX. Iiirni^h him witli tlic means i)f gcttiivj; to ( luiicli and cl sew he- re. Colonel \\ ashini;t()n atlcls (uiitin;^ to Master Jack's tutor) that he " will cheerfully pay ten or twtlvi; puuiuls uxlraordinai) lo engage your peculiar care of, and a watchful eye to. Iiiin, as he is a piomisiiig lioy, the lust of his family, and will possess a very large Fortune; .idd to (his my anxiety to make him lit for more useful pur|>ose than Morse Kaces." Little Martha grew on into womanhood, and is said to have been tiiiite pretty — so decided a brunette that she was termeil the "dark lady." She had, however, inherited a delicate constitution from her father, and soon showed great fragility and became subject to faintings. The family made many sojourns at the Warm Springs and elsewhere, for her health, but she died when only seventeen. There is a letter in existence written by Colonel \\'a>hington the ne.xt day after Martha died ("dear Patsy Custis " he calls her), an old, soft, crumbling letter with a worn wrapping and a great red wafer, letter and wrap|)er both as dark yellow as rose leaves from pot-pourri jars of another century, and feeling in the hand as though they might fall into powder. (The owner of the letter, in giving it for its reproduction here, says that his father was one of the few who ever saw the august Washington laugh ; the occasion, a pretty scene, was one of his very earliest memories. It w-as many, many years after " that Sweet Innocent Girl " died. He went with his parents to dine with Mr. Lawrence Lewis, and General Washington was present. .After the cloth was removed one of the company set the little five-year-old child upon the table and told him he must give a toast. The little fellow turned, unbidden, to the General and drank his health, and The " Atheiwmn'" head. Pamtedfr^ GEORGE WASH IN (-.TON. 1 lije hi tl^,by Gilterl S/,„i Chuiied by the Boston A the. tVaw tti tlie Boston Museum of Fine A rts. MARTHA WASHINGTON. Fahncd from lije in 1796, by Gilbert Shiart Owned by the Boston AtheiKEUvi. No7u in the Boston MiiscnjH 0/ Fine Arts. THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33 Washington laughed heartily at the child's readiness and self- command.) Gentle Patsy Custis ! her place was not easily filled in the house, though there was still young life there. Her mother and her brother were heartbroken at her loss, and the negroes on the plantation shed tears many years afterward as they recounted her good cjualities. She had given her foster-father a true daughter- love, and as if to show her appreciation of his kindness she willed to him her entire property, which was quite a fortune. She sleeps at Mount Vernon, with those of her own blood. Colonel Washington abounded with kindness toward many young relatives of his own, also. With one of hem, a niece, the daughter of his brother Samuel, he seems to have had peculiar trials. It doubtless was nearly impossible that the neat and exact Mrs. Washington, who loved to be in spotless dress and suitably ready for all occasions, should understand a temperament the opposite of her own, and she probably often spoke of her dis- couragements to her husband. Poor little Harriet ! This ward, this unorderly Harriet who evidently liked always to be in her finest feathers. Colonel Washington sends to his sister, Mrs. Betty Lewis ; it was during an absence from home of Mrs. Washington — she may have been at the Springs with the delicate Martha, as it was the year before her death. He writes of the girl that he thinks she goes well-provided ; " this much I know, that she costs me enough," he says, but adds that he will still do for her what he has done for seven years past. The letter runs : '■ Harriet has sense enough, but no disposition to industry, nor to be careful of her cloatlies. I wish you would examine her cloathes and develop her in the use and application of them — for without this they will be (I am told) dabbed about in every hole and corner, and her best things always in use." 34 IHJ: lAMlIV OJ CI.ORdE UASm.XGTOy. \Vc mav excuse tlie future I-ather of his Country for this out- burst of plain sjjeaking, as he liad paid some seven hundred pounds for the " cloathes " and schooHng of two of Miss Harriet's brothers. Perliaps Mrs. Betty Lewis had a knack with girls. She writes presently that she finds Harriet a good girl, tractable, and " really verv ingenious in making her 'cloathes ' and altering them to the best advantage," and explains to him that " many things which could be worn to the last string in a ct)untry place will not do where Miss Harriet sees so much comj^any." In I 796 we find the much-discussed Harriet happily proposed for in marriage, and the President of the L'nited States taking care that she marry a man of good habits and decent fortune. •At this period, 1772-73, Master Jack was away at school, first in Annapolis, later in King's College (now Columbia) in New York. With a quick mind for study, he enjoyed better an active out-of-door life. He had outgrown his delicacy of constitution, but not his taste for s]X)rt, and not infrequently he stole away from that tutor who was to have " a watchful eye to him " to go fox- hunt in;.;. He also made plans for traveling, and when these were com- pleted and he had reported them to his foster-father, he was as- tonished to find himself advised to study at present and travel afterwards. He had hardlv set aside this scheme, which had diverted his attention from his books, when another more serious presented itself. He fell deeply in love with Kleanor, the daughter of Bene- dict Calvert, son of Lord Baltimore. This was a matter upon which the youth would not accept advice. A correspondence ensued between the two fathers, and Colonel Washington said. THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. "John must be educated before he marries any one; he is utterly deficient in some studies." He did not object to Miss Eleanor, and he suggested that as they seemed so fond of each other per- haps it would be well to permit a formal engagement, as both would thus avoid little flirtations which were demoralizing. This mode of procedure was agreed upon by the fathers and children. This settled, young Custis left Annapolis for college to remain two years. But Nellie Calvert had so impressed herself upon his heart that he saw her on every page of his book and wrote of her in all his exercises. In this condition he stayed at school three months; and in February, 1774, she being sixteen and he nineteen, they were married. The new family were domiciled under tlie Mount Vernon roof. The young husband took up his studies again, but with an eye upon public affairs, for stormy times were at hand. Now comes the War of Independence, and at Mount Vernon there is no more sweet secure home- life ; with Lieutenant Colo- nel Experience Storrs, a Connecticut officer who had hurried to Boston after Lexington, " we hear a Chief officer is appointed, a General Washington of Virginia, to supercede in the command of ye troops here." Having a doubt of his own capacity. Colonel Washington, made General-in-Chief, accepted command of the American armies re- ronh K 1 iiukcii. lUry cluirJi cj the If.tshhig/oji J'ami/y, built kc/orc the Revolution, from plans by Washington) 3b JUi- J-.lMJJ.y OJ- GEORGl: WASHLXGTON. luctantly and went on from Philadelphia to Cambridge. " He had an imposing modesty," said one of his time, >peaking of him. \'xo\w 1775 to i7,Si the tumults anti suspense> and forebodings of war shook and darkened Mount Vernon. I'or seven years after his departure for Congress at Philadelphia its master did not set foot within its hall>. Little children — four little Custises — J. Washington were in Xew York Citv, at headquarters, at Richmond llill. There the harassed General could feel that Mrs. Washington was compara- tivelv safe. Lord Dunmore, the winter before (when Washington was in Cambridge), had threatened to attack Mount Vernon and seize the wife of the American Commander-in-Chief. Though during the Revolution Mrs. Washington usually was at Mount W'rnon in summer, she was often in cam]) with her husband in winter when hostilities and forced marches and surprises were not so unceasingly in order. At one time the General thought of removing her into Richmond for safety. In 17S1 Cornwallis and Tarleton were pressing up from the Carolinas into \'irginia and committing great depredations in the country surrounding Mount X'ernon ; and he saw her start homeward from camp with many misgivings, arranging for her "to halt at Philadelphia if from information and circumstances it was not likely she should remain quietlv at Mount V^crnon." It wa> just at the time when Tarleton with his flying dragoons had been sent to capture the Governor of Virginia, Thomas Jefferson. The young Marquis de Lafayette /iOt,^ ^» ^^i-^e-^^t-is^ /"^tS^ ai^^-^^ ap^/^^ct^ ^'S^^T-c^, . ^f-gu-^^a-A-^ i^itS^c^ (:^1<<2J> .^(Sy^tSl^^ y<>;^...^ir7-7>'-^<'-f~- ^^-^■55iy-cL ..iiC PZ£-c^ Vty-T^^ ^-p-e--^^ yOJ-jCt-^^-e^a. .A2JZ^i£. Washington feels herself far too advanced in life and too much immersed in the care of her little progeny (the four children of her son, John Parke Custis, who died in 17S1) to cross the Atlantic." Like their predecessors, their little father and aunt, these small Custises passed a charming childhood at Mount Vernon. In the Centennial number of the Ciii/nrv Man^aziiif, Mrs. Burton Harri- son, of the Virginia Fairfaxes, gives us glimpses of the Mount X'ernon of those years, " enthroned on grassy hilltops " by the silver Potomac. Horn and hound sounded merrily over the autumn hills, for (ieneral Washington dearly loved the chase. When the chil- dren were little, there was a delightfully fearsome pack of hounds in the kennels; I'rench dogs, a gift from Lafayette, " fierce, big- mouthed, savage." Mrs Washington was afraid of them, and they were sent ofT, afterwards. There were litters of beautiful jjuppies. The stables were full of horses, fine creatures, for pets and play- fellows. Nellie, the youngest girl, the adopted daughter, liked to be with horses, and was constantlv alarming her grandmother as she flashed by the windows or down the lanes mounted upon some half-broken colt. The children all loved old " Xelson," the tall chestnut, the General's war-horse. Washington rode him at York- town. He was never saddled or bridled after he came to .Mount \'ernon. W^ashington paid him a dcily visit in the stall or the pasture, and the little Custises were fond of climbing up on the fence to pat his forehead, as he came racing up to greet his mas- 1 ■■' -^ ■ Wt ^^im |l ^K ' ■1 ^K ^^m mm W' 4 m-y y^ ^^■^■/.-■' Bjl^H Wf^ ^^1 KLEANOR PARKE CUSTIS ("NELLIE CUSTIS"). (T/u- ^^ramidaiighter adopted by li'askmgton. From the fainting by Gilbert Stuart, no of Gen. Ciistis Lee.) THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 45 ter. There were many " exotic animals," as Washington termed them, gifts of various admirers and friends, among them Span- ish jackasses, Chinese pigs and Chinese geese. Going on at all times was something to interest children. They might go down to the landing to see what strange fish the old house-fisherman, " Daddy Jack," Iiad caught — day in and day out " Daddy Jack" was always dreamily fishing there in his canoe ; or they might go to meet the hunter — and he was a spectacle, to be sure, for little folks' eyes, " carrying his gun and pouch, his body wrapped with strings of game, his dogs at heel." They liked to look at the game and smooth the thick feathers or soft fur — there were " birds, squirrels, wild turkeys, ' molly cotton-tails,' wily 'possum, canvas- back ducks." Coaches of company, too, were coming and going. State dinners were cooked and served to nobles and dignitaries. There were hosts of relatives to pet them and take ,//'//'}/ notice of them, and examine into their accomplish- [|»h ments — their little dances, songs and studies. The house, too, was altered and made large and handsome. Rare things were set growing in the gardens — "fig-trees, raisins, limes, oranges, large English mulberries, arti- chokes," says a visitor to Mount Vernon in i7<'^9. NELl.lK CUSTIS'S HAKFSICHuKD, NOW AT M T. VICKNuN. Then there were the mills and the smithy, the shops and the fields and the quarters, all to visit in company with the General, and no doubt the little Custis folk often superintended with him the starting-off of the 46 mi' i.tMii.y or (;/:oA(;/: ir.ts///.\(;roiv. loaded markL't-tait which the (it neral thriftily run between Mount Vernon and .Alexandria. To go Lack in-tloors, Mrs. Harrison thus pictures the mistress of Mount Vernon, who in summer always wore a gown of white dimity, in winter dressing in homespun : " A mol>cap covering her gray hair, and key-basket in hand, the wife nf Wa-shington must have offered a pleasant picture of the days when housekeepers were not a.shamed to weigh their own supplies, and butcher's lK>oks and lounging grocer's boys were not. In their ste.id were seen the black cook and her myrmidons, smiling, goggling, curtesying, holding their wooden pails and • piggins ' to receive the day's allowance. If there were a 'sugar loaf' to crack, a tall glittering monument, like an aiguille of the .Mps, emerging stainless from its dark-blue wrapper, it was the mistress of the house who brought her strength to bear on it ; there were ' whips ' and ' tloaling- islands ' and jellies to compound ; and to • tie down ' the preserves was no small piece of work. " The rites of the store-room at end, it was Mrs. Washington's practice to retire to her closet, for the exercise of private devotions, however onerous, was accepted as naturally by generations of Southern housewives as was the responsibility for their own tiesh and blood. " This business of reception went on intermittently during the morning hours ; but it Ls not to be supposed that Madam Washington .sat with idle hands the while. Scattered about the room were black women engaged at work that must be overlooked : Klavia cutting out innumerable gar- ments of domestic cotton for 'quarter' use. Sylvia at her .scam, .Myrtilla at her wheel — not to mention the small dark creatures with wool betwigged, perched upon crickets round al)out the hearth, learning to sew, to mend, to darn, with ' ole Muss ' for a teacher. I )uring the late war .Mrs. Washington's boast had been that .she h.-id kept as many as sixteen wheels at a time whirring on the plantation. .A favorite gown had been woven by her maids, of cotton, striped with silk pro- cured by raveling the General's di.sc-irded stockings, and enlivened by a line of crimson from .some worn-out chair-covers of satin damask. " In the intervals Madam was at leisure to chat with her guests alx>ut patterns, chicken.s, small- pox, husbands and such like. The management of children was also a fruitful theme. ... In the afternoon, their custom was to take a discreet walk in the shrubbery. At the right time of the year they would gather rose leaves to till the muslin bags that lay in every drawer, on every shelf; or sprays of honesty (they called it ' silver shilling ') to deck the va.ses on the parlor mantelpiece. After reading a bit out of the ' Tatler,' the ' Sentimental Magazine,' or the ' lx:tlers of Ijidy Montagu,' they would t.ike their forty winks — the beauty-sleep of a woman Southern-born. " Kveryliody looked forward to the evening, when the tlencral sat with them. This was the children's heaten l>efore he was thirty, loved to have these little dames nestling at his side It \v.is so through life. In the most critical week of his I'residency. that in wliich the IJriti.sh treatv was decided — the second week M .August, 17(15 — Wa-shington wcnl u, t\\v In. use of Uandolph, Secretary .if st.iii-, and pl.iyeil with his liiiK daughters." However, between the common sense and firmness of the two grandparents, between the outdoor and indoor life, between duties GKORC.E \V.\sm.\i;ri>N I'ARKK Cl'STIS. { II 'htn a ycung mitn ; from a miHiaturt on ivory trwt GfH. Ctutii Lit.) THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 51 and pleasures, the children grew up healthful and strong, with good educations and good constitutions, and each lived to be more than threescore and ten. Of Washington's own life at Mount Vernon, his latest and ablest biographer, Mr. Henry Cabot Lodge, writes very interest- ingly ; he is referring to the period that intervened between his marriage with Mrs. Custis and the Revolution, but what he says is equally true of him at any period of his prime — and physically and mentally, compared with other men, Washington was at his prime up to the time of his death. Mr. Lodge says: '• Take it for all in all, it was a manly, wholesome, many-sided life. It kept Washington young and strong, both mentally and physically. When he was forty he flung the iron bar, at some village sports, to a point which no competitor could approach. There was no man in all Virginia who NtLl.lE L'USTIS'S RUUM AT MOUNT VEKNuN, AS " RESTClKEl). " could ride a horse with such a powerful and assured seat. There was no one who could journey farther on foot. . . .\s with the body so with the mind. He never rusted. A practical car- penter and smith, he brought the same quiet intelligence and firm will to the forging of iron or the 52 THK JAM 1 1, y Ol- GEOKIU: UASHIXGTON. felling and sawing of trees that he had displayed in fighting France. The life of a country gen- tleman did nut dull ur stupefy him, or lead him to gross indulgences. He remained well made and athletic, strung and enduring, keen in perception and in sense, and warm in his feelings and affec- tions. Many men would have lieconie lu-.nv .iml ns.-l,->s in ihe.se years of quiet country life, but Washington simply ripened." Mrs. Washington's children enjoyed ease and luxury, but it was reserved for her grandchildren to share in the great honors of state conferred on their grandfather. General Washington had hoped to spend the remainder of his years at Mount Vernon. He enjoyed agriculture, the raising of grain, the planting of trees, the improvement of stock, delighted in rural pleasures, loved home and the family life, and was an ideal " lord of the manor." Personal ambition, such as ct>nciuerors know — though he had done and was to do " as great work as has fallen to the lot of man " — was foreign to his nature. But on an afternoon in mid-.\pril, 17S9, there alighted at IIk gates of Mount X'ernon one Charles Thompson, a messenger from Congress, to formally announce to General Washington that he ha ! been elected President of the United States. General Washing- ton and his wife were not unexpectant of this. Little Nellie, aged eleven and the " claver b<>v " of nine, however, might have been sur- prised, for such was the dignity of their grandfather in his relations to public affairs that it is probable he had not spoken of the grave correspondence during the winter in which the statesmen of the country had pressed upon him the conviction of the people that he was the man of all best fitted to rule the new nation. He had acceded at last, with no juv. no elation. Of course it now had to be made known to the children that their grandfather was going away again from Mount \'ernon, this time to be the ruler of the land. We can imagine their excitement, their wonder. THE FAAflLY OF GEORGE WASHIXGrO.Y. 53 On the sixteenth, witli the messengers from Congress, he set out, anxious and grave, for the capital — New York City was then the seat of government ; for eleven years the Presidents lived in New York or in Philadelphia. No President since has made so splendid an inaugural journey. At his very gates his neighbors met him ; men, women and children, they went with him to Georgetown, where the citizens en fjtasse were standing on the banks of the Pot(Mnac to receive him, and thus one city after another, one State after another, met and received and went onward with him ; it was through laurel arches, with the bravest and best of the land riding at his side, multitudes meeting him with banners and flowers, huzzas and songs. Then came the inauguration in New York, the most joyous festival the American nation has ever known ; once only has the gratitude of the people rolled with a deeper surge — in 1S65, when peace was assured at the close of the Civil War. The Mount Vernon family heard the accounts of the pageant by slow mails and returning townsmen and travelers. The house- hold was busy making ready for the departure northward of " Mistress President of the United States," as a diarist of the day quaintly termed Mrs. Washington. There was much packing for the New York home of pictures, curtains, china and silver. The family plate was to be melted and re-cast into dishes of more elegant form. New " cloathes " were making for them all, for Miss Nellie and Master Washington were to go. Mrs. Washington, as we know, liked best to dress in simple white, but as the President's wife she wore, we are told, " what fashion required." Mrs. Washington with the children set out in her own carriage about the middle of May. The}', too, had a triumphal progress. 54 Tin: lAMII.y OF CKORGI: WASJIINCTON. I lib U A-iUINt.luN I'LW I.N illki.>l I III ALEXANIiRlA. Much t(i tin- cU'lii;ht of Nellie and lur hrnther iIkic were great firo-works for tlieni in Haltiir.orc and Philadelphia. Troops came and rode at the side of their carriage. All the cannon were fired and all the bells were rung and all the bands played. I'lowers were strewn before them. The Cabinet ladies came to meet Mrs. Washington. Some of the people spoke to the children of their grandfather's " Court " and their grandfather's "Palace." Then as they neared New York City their dear grandfather himself, with many distinguished gentlemen, came to receive them, and all the gay noise and parade increased, horsemen rode to and fro, and banners waved, and the air was thick with flowers. New York Bay was covered by beauti- ful boats with captains in gay uniforms, and they crossed with their grandparents in a splendid barge, and then the whole city " rose at them." What other children, before or since, were ever cynosures in such a great, beautiful, spontaneous pageant ? Their house, the first one they lived in — there were two or three occupied in New York as Executive Mansions — stood in what is now known as Franklin Square, not far from Harper Brothers' publishing house. It overlooked the Hay and Long Island and charming river scenery. P.ut after the magic gilding of nf)velty wore off and they began to lire of fine company, and of making their statelv bows and curtesies and of receiving THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHTNGTON. 55 flattering compliments, they longed for Mount Vernon and a good scamper up and down the old river-portico. Their grandmother, at heart, was no more contented than they. She writes to her sister Fanny that she leads a very dull life, that she is " more like a state prisoner than anything else." She says, " there are certain bounds for me which I must not depart from." But this was in secret. Mrs. Washington took her place as First Lady of the Land and held her full-dress levees like a c|ueen, where the President always received at her side. She is said to have been statuesque, stately, to have shown a wonderful discretion in all things, to have been " absolutely colorless as a social leader and a woman of affairs, and permitting no political dis- cussions in her presence." Perhaps, with the children, she best enjoyed the long drives in the chariot-and-si.x. Very often they drove over the beautiful Bloomingdale Road. Once the children went to visit the battle-field of Harlem Heights; they had fine company — there were President and Mrs. Washington, and Vice-Presi- dent John Adams and Mrs. Abigail Adams, and Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton and Mrs. Hamilton and other courtly men and lovely ladies. Master and Miss Custis are often mentioned in the President's diary kept in New York as driving THE UASHlNCiTON FAMILY BIBLK, NOW AT CHRIST CHURCH, ALEXANDRIA. 56 Tffl-' lA.U// y OF GF.OKGR IVASIfJXGTOX. with him — " wu went the fourtfcn-milc-rouiul." he says, ami that was the Hloomingclalc Road. The stables were full of fine creatures, and no doubt Nellie and her brother were often perniittetl to go in with the General and pet the beauties, and perhaps have a gay romjj, maybe to climb uj) into the state-coach to sit. This was a wonderful fairy-tale sort of vehicle. It was cream color, with foiu' copper medallions on the panels, each by a famous Italian artist, and there were Cupids with flowers painted around the medallions. But the horses for this chariot were the objects of Nellie's greatest admiration. The tall, white, fiery creatures, sixteen hands high, were done up over night in white paste, like a fine beauty's face, a compound which left their coats as glossy as white satin — a proceeding not uncommon ; if, after grooming, their coats soiled a white handkerchief as it was passed over, it is said that the stable-boys were tied up and whipped. Their hoofs were blacked and polished every day, and their teeth brushed. The harnesses were of leopard skin. The coachman and footmen wore liveries of white trimmed with scarlet or orange — a gorgeous turn-nut. They loved color in those old days. There is an "order " sent to London bv Washington, for a riding coat of handsome drab broadcloth with double gilt buttons, and a riding-waistcoat of superfine scarlet cloth with gold lace and buttons. Men wore gayer, fuller colors than the fair members of their families, and their shirt bosoms were rufHed with lace and lawn. .\t the state dinners in New York at her grandfather's house Nellie used to .see Mr. Thomas Jefferson come in, smiling and debonair, in red waist- coat and red breeches. Nellie was no longer a little girl when the Mount X'ernon KI.IZAHETH TAKKK (J/ri. U'ashtit;^ton's granddaJtglitt', PaiuUd by Pine.) THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 59 WOODLW N of Nellie Cjistis a/ler her marriage with La family at last came from Philadelphia to settle down at home. She was nineteen then, and in the dewy fullness of all her wild-rose beauty, a merry girl still, loving her grandfather with all her heart, and happy beyond expression that he was no longer the President of the United States. Before her there was constantly passing a train of suitors. But her heart was never touched by any man excepting the one she married. The General was in all her confidences ; her books, her beaux, her gowns, her good times — he had an ear for all Miss Nellie's thoughts about them, grave or gay, and probably he saved her some mistakes. But no doubt both her grandparents finally grew exceedingly anxious as to her choice of a husband. They each had their favor- ite in view. On his return to Mount Vernon General Washington had invited his sister Betty's son, young Lawrence Lewis, to come into the family as his private secretary — there is extant, by the way, the letter* in which the young man accepts the post; it runs quaintly, as follows: Fauquier Co., ////]' 24tli, 1797. My dear Sir . I return you my sincere thanks for the kind invitation I received when last at Mount \'ernon to make it my home, and that whilst there my services would be acceptable. This invitation was the more pleasing to me from a desire of being serviceable to you and from a hope in fulfilling those duties assigned me I should derive some improvement by them. * In possession of William .Mexander .Smith, New York City. 6o iHE FAMILY OF G FORGE U'ASIIIXGI OX. I'ntulorcd in almost every branch of business, I can only promise a ready and willing ol>edi- ence to any instruction or command you may plcaiie to give. ! should have been with you ere this, but for the unavoidable detention by my servant's running away, and that at a time when I was nearly ready for my departure. I have been ever since in pursuit of hira without success. The uncertainty of getting a servant or my runaway will probably detain me until 25th of August, bill mil .\ monit'iil liini.'i'r than is unavoidable. W ith sincere regard for my .Aunt, and family I remain, your affectionate Nephew, Lawkk.si.k l.KWIS. Gf.n. GroRi-.F. \V,\shin(;ton. J Kndorsed by Washington 1 I " Krom Mr. I^wrence Lewis, ;4th July, 1797." ' This voLinu; SL'crctary maclL' it one of his first " duties " to fall in love with his vivacious foster-cousin, but her grandmother dis- approved of his attentions, or rather preferred a Mr. Carroll who had just returned from Europe and was finely educated and polished from travel. After a little struggle the General and Nellie carried the day, and Nellie became Mrs. Lewis on Washing- ton's birthday, i 799. Her husband's rank was that of Major, and Nellie requested all her friends who were in official position to wear at the wedding the splendid embroidered uniforms which the general officers had adopted. All acquiesced, save her grandfather who preferred the old Continental blue-and-bufT and the modest black ribbon cockade. Nellie's own New York and Philadelphia friends came down to Mount \'ernon, and many of (ienerai Washington's stately old comrades and officers, and it is not exaggeration to say that there never has been a wedding since then in the United States where there were as nianv feathers and laces or such a quantity of tinsel and buttons, as much pomp and show or more courtly ceremony, and that Nellie's grandfather in the plain old uniform was the most imposing figure in all the groups of the gay scene. THE FAMILY OF GEORGE U'ASHEXGTON. 6l As on the battlefield, he made the impression of heroic size and strength. An old Revolutionary captain has left in a letter a full-length portrait of him, with the familiar everyday daylight full upon it, and it strikes the imagination more powerfully than any of the painted portraits. He says : " Washington had a large, thick nose, and it was very red that day [three days before cross- ing the Delaware], giving me the impression that he was not so moderate in the use of liquors as he was supposed to be. I found afterward that this was a peculiarity. His nose was apt to turn scarlet in a cold wind. He was standing near a small camp-fire, evidently lost in thought and making no effort to keep warm. He seemed si.\ feet and a half in height, was as erect as an Indian, and did not for a moment relax from a military attitude. Washing- ton's exact height was six feet two inches in his boots. He was then a little lame from striking his knee against a tree. His eye was so gray that it looked almost white and he had a troubled look on his colorless face. He had a piece of woollen tied around his throat and was quite hoarse. Perhaps the throat trouble from which he finally died had its origin about then. Washington's boots were enor- mous. They were No. 13. His ordinary walking- shoes were No. II. His hands were large in propor- tion, and he could not buy a glove to fit him and had to have his gloves made to order. His mouth was his strong feature, the lips being always tightly compressed. That day they were compressed so tightly as to be painful to look at. At that time he weighed two hundred pounds, and there was no surplus flesh about him. muscled, and the fame of his great strength was everywhere." M-TEKWARD MRS. I'tlEKS {granddaughter of Mrs. Washington, ing owned by her daughter, Mrs. From paint- i'cnnon.) He was tremendously The General presented his nephew with an estate of two thou- sand acres near Mount Vernon. A pleasant house was built upon it. and the place was known as " Woodlawn." Nellie and her hus- band lived there many years. But during her grandfather's life- time they resided at Mount Vernon. " At his death," I\Irs. Harri- 62 TIIK J-.l.\f//.y OJ-' GKOKiiE UASIIIXGTOX. SDii says, " his favorite Nellie, witli her new-horn babe bc>icle her, lav in her chamber at Mount Vernon." The baby grandchildren, the children of Nellie's sisters, Eliza- beth and Martha, had always been much at Mount Vernon and \\ashini;ton was fond of them all. A daughter of Martha, still living, the widow of Commodore Kennon, relates that when her elder sister was a baby Washington used to walk with her to teach her to take her first steps, and that her hand was so small it could hardlv clasp about his great finger, and that thus, she holding to his finger, they used to pace the Mount Vernon porch. He bought her a beautiful little whistle and rattle-box combined, the handle a solid i)iece of exquisite rose coral. He used to love to see her manipulate that, and upon the coral handle she cut her teeth. - Nellie had f*Hir children, Lorenzo and Farke, .Angela and Agnes. In their company from the home at Woodlawn she again went to the old Pohick church of her childhood, instead of Christ Church at .Alexandria where during later years the Washington family had been regular at- tendants ; and where the Washington iiew, square and WHISTLE ANP RATTI.F. OF ROSE CORAU ... i,Gktn by Haihingum to iht h.ihy ihiUrtH f/ Mr, Marik., quaiut, is stdl prcscrvcd in its Cuilii Frlm, Ihi'iuJ by Mri. A'tmuni. ) .... i i i r original form. In the days ot the Custis children the .se.vton was a woman, who not only showed people to their seats, but locked them in, and patrolled the aisles afterwards, seeing that the old folk were awake and the young ones behaving. Mrs. Lewis lived to be .seventy-four. She retained her charm of manner and beauty of face through her life. Mrs. Richartl THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. "MARTHA WASHINGTON CHINA."* Cutts (a niece of Dolly Madison) who saw her often at Arlington, and in Washington at Mrs. Madison's, sjDeaks of her as a " very handsome old lady with gray hair and a most beautiful black eye." She grew fond of books, and her interest in " fancy work amounted "' to a passion. Her niece, Mrs. Kennon, Martha's daughter (Martha became Mrs. Peters), says she would work at one kind until she seemed to exhaust her resources and all the patterns, and then she would take up another. A piece of old-fashioned crewel-work which she did when an old woman, hangs framed at Mrs. Kennon's, with a slip of her writing. All the nieces loved " Aunt Lewis " and she was prone to give them keep- sakes. She retained her spright- liness, too, as well as her beauty. A great-grand- daughter of President Jef- ferson (Mrs. Ellen Harrison) says in a recent letter: " As for Nellie Custis, I knew her as a very old lady. I was pres- ent when she came, full of vigor in mind and body, to pay a farewell visit to her old schoolmate, Mrs, Bennett Taylor, the oldest daughter •Once belonged to Mrs. Nellie Custis Lewis, Now owned by Mrs. Kennon, widow of Cmimodore Kennon. U, S, N., granddaughter of Mrs. Martha Custis Peters. It belonged to the set presented to Mrs. Washington by the Marquis de Lafayette, of which each piece contained the names of the thirteen States. WASHINGTON SALAD-BOWL. {O-.u'ied l.y Mrs. Kcma; ) 64 THi-. r.iAfjj) OF aKOKHK uasiu.\'(;to\. of tiovcrnor lulmuiul Raiulolph. Mrs. Ta^lor'.s niiiul was fast failiiii;. but wln-n Mrs. Lewis said in a strong licarty tone, ' Why, Susan, don't you know nic ? ' she ^lapped at her and said, • Oli ! go away, Xcllie Custis, you know you were always as bad as you could be I' Mrs. Lewis replied, laughing, ' O, yes! but I am good now.' " After her husband's death she lived al .\udley, Clarke Co., X'irginia, "beau- tiful always and cherished by a large family of children and grandchildren." says Mrs. Burton Harrison in the W'iDi; .Vw.\KK magazine. "From a cousin in V^irginia, wlio in boyhotjd spent some time beneath her roof, and to whom she wrote many letters, 1 have this reminiscence: ;■- Nlll.M 1 1 >n^ I.1.U1S llll.N ' (Ovmtd by her Muce^ Airs. KtHturH ) • I \v.i» a mere lad. about twelve or fourteen, wtieii I knew her best, but I never have forgotten that dear and charming lady. I remember her way of winning confidence from us, her conscien- tious goodness, her bright spirits. When, at table, she began to speak, so brilliant was her flow of conversation, that all stopped to listen. Her subsecjuent letters to mc, imfortunately lost during the war, were a boon to a growing youth, susceptible of gracious influence.' '■ This gentleman has two daguerreotypes, soft and fascinating in tone, but now alas ! faded hopelessly ; one from her portrait representing Lleanor Lewis as a bride, the other from life show- ing her as an aged woman. I well remember that from this latter picture 1 derived my own first knowledge that an old jxTson could be beautiful. It is like the finest carviivj in ivorv: the THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 65 clear-cut features and soft dark eyes hardly touched by Time's destroying finger." She died in 1S52. She is buried at Mount Vernon, where she passed her happy young years, very near her grandfather and grandmother. Her monument is at the left of the tomb where lie the General and his wife. Nellie's brother, Washington, the " claver boy," was at Prince- ton while his father was President. Many of the letters which passed between father and son have been published. They are so like the hundreds of letters which fathers and sons are receiving to-day that they are not of especial interest. The President cau- tions him to study, and the youth studies very little. He warns him against being extravagant, and the youth, thoughtless in his expenditures, finds himself needing extra funds. The father in- closes the necessary sum, and the boy explains that he regrets hav- ing to ask for it, but unless he is " stingy " and does not do his share in entertaining he will have to use more than seems neces- sary to his friends at home. The father writes little lectures on idleness and vice, and the son respects the father, does nothing dis- graceful and nothing remarkable. During that time Dr. Smith, a clergyman, informed the President that Washington was lazy and received a reply from General Washington that from his infancy he had been indolent in everything which did not tend to his amusement. At one time in discouragement, he wrote, says Mr. Conway, to the step-father. Dr. Stuart : " If you, or Mrs. Stuart, could by any indirect means discover the state of Washington Custis's mind it would be to be wished. He appears to me to be moped and stupid." 66 THE lAM/LY Ol- GKOKGK WASHJXGTOX. The young man continued at I'rinrcton a year or two, going thence to Annapolis in i 79S. lie applied himself more closely in his new school, but still was constantly in need of money. How- EMBROIDERY 1)Y MRS. NKLMK CUSTIS LEWIS, WITH AUTOliRAl'H INSCRirilO.N. ever, he gave satisfaction at home and all were rejoicing that he was upon the right road when they received word that he had THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 67 fallen in love and was spending much time away from school. The young man had become enamored of a young lady who lived in Alexandria, had told her of his affection, had explained his financial condition, and had hoped for an engagement which, with the agree- ment of both families, would be consummated at some future day. But the young lady did not accede to his proposal, for what reason we are not told. His letter to his father explaining the circum- stances is a very manly one indeed and doubtless was well received. Afterwards, at the age of twenty-three, he married Miss Mary Lee Fitzhugh, a very accomplished and charming woman. He developed into a man of taste. His fortune was large. At his beautiful home, Arlington, in Washington, he passed through a lifetime of elegant leisure. He wrote plays and poetry, contrib- uted to newspapers and compiled some books. His most note- worthy and valuable work is, however. The Life and Letters of Washington. He was fond of music and painting. The latter pursuit was especially enjoyable. He had held in early life a commission in the army, and in middle life, or perhaps later, he painted battle-scenes which were true in every delineation of history, but lacked color and drawing to make them valuable. Many of these paintings were at Arlington up to the time of the Civil War — enormous canvases where the soldiers in the battle scenes were of more than life-size; eight feet in height, perhaps. One who remembers the paintings in all their Titanic proportions (as she often used to be at Arlington, sleeping, all unvisited by ghosts, upon the bedstead upon which President Washington died) says there was one painting there with a story. On this canvas was delineated Washington and his war-horse — " Nelson " whom the artist when a child used to pet at Mount 68 '^^iJ'^ J- AMI I y 01- (,/:OA(;j-: uasj//\gjox. \'cinon. Man and steed were of colossal proportions. This paint- ing Mr. Ciistis designed as a gift to his country, and he sent it to Congress, where it remained for months in the Caj)itol, the gift unacted upon. It finally was returned, and it is said that the mortified artist gave orders that it should be accidentally tijjped into the Potomac in transit, but that .Mrs. Custis gave after-orders that it should be brought safely to Arlington, where it was to be seen up to the time when the family left the estate. Mr. Custis was a man of wide reading. His oratory was fine, his voice musical, and the speeches which he delivered would fill volumes. He was devoted to the memory of Washington; he gave him a son's love, living and dead; he placed a memorial stone on the site of his birthplace, and courteously welcomed to Arlington the throngs of visitors, high and low, who came to take by the hand a man who had been so peculiarly near and dear to Washington, and genially answered the millions of questions con- cerning Mount Vernon and the life of its famous inmates. He died October lo, 1S57, "the last male representative of his family." His beautiful daughter became the wife of General Robert E. Lee, and her sons own the paintings and memorials of the Custis family. His estate, Arlington, confiscated by the U. S. Government in the Civil War and made the National Burying- ground of the soldiers, was afterwards decided in court to be the property of his descendants, and bv them it was sold to the U. S. Government. Mount Vernon, the common home of all these children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, is no longer owned by the family, but by an incorporated body, an association of ladies known as " The Mount Vernon Ladies Association of the Union," who THE FAMILY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON. 69 represent every section of the country. The lawns and gardens, buildings and rooms have been put in order and " restored " as far as possible. Many relics and articles once belonging to the Wash- ington family have been given to the association or been other- wise obtained, and it is hoped that in the course of years many others will find their way back to Mount Vernon, their natural and proper treasure-home ; for one can conceive of no period when the place shall not be daily visited by both Americans and foreigners, pilgrims to the home and tomb of " the noblest figure that ever stood in the forefront of a nation's life." THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. CHAPTER I. IN QUINCY. GREAT was the contrast in the manner of living between the family of George Washington and that of John Adams, our second President. Young Mrs. Washington came to Mount Vernon the mistress of a fortune, and from a home where luxury had prevailed. Colonel Washington had long been accustomed to the gaieties and elegances of society that was English and baronial in its tone. The young Custises, as we have seen, were from the begin- ning surrounded by all the luxuries of their day. They rode in fine equipages. They were dressed after dainty foreign fashions; their "orders" filled at. the best London shops. They were waited upon by slaves. They ate of the choicest the world afforded. Wines were always before them, and it is safe to say that cards played for money was not an uncommon sight. Little that savored of rank and the mother-country attended 73 ' NIGHTCAP. {Worn by John Adams w/ien a child. In possession o/hisgrcat- great-graiiddaughtcr , Mrs. n. C. Woods, Balti- more, Maryland.) -^ THE J-AMILV or JOn.\ A1K4MS. upon the Adams liDiischolds. TIk- Adamses of the earlier colo- nial days were respectable, but in nu wise distinguished. The father of John Adams was a farmer of moderate means, and John was born in a little red one-story house that pilgrims may still visit, just out of Quincy, Mass., on the Braintree road. His mother was a gentlewoman, of the Boylston family, John Quincy Adams, in 1N31, writing to Miss Eliza Susan Quincy describes his creation of the " Adams quarter " of an armorial " book-label " he had had designed. He says: •' The book label contains the armorial hearings, brought with ihein from England, by my ancestors of the families of Itoylslun, Smith .ind Quincy — that is, of my father's mother, and of my mother's father and mother. My father's paternal ancestors did not, to my knowledge, bring with them any armorial liearings. They were of gentle blood, but not of that cla.ss whose 'suc- cessors who went before them, and whose ancestors that came after them, have for any time these three hundred years, written themselves down Armigero.' Instead, therefore, of borrowing a coat from another family of the same name, and with which any book of heraldry would have supplied me, I have placed in my father's quarter, a device of his own invention, engraved immediately alter the signature of the treaty of Peace, which closed the war of our Independence, and having allusion to that event. The motto also is of his selection — taken from Tacitus. I have inscribed it al.so on his monument in the church at Quincy, and wi.sh it may be a memento for his children's children, forever." Some one has said that " in a strictly national sense the Adams family is the oldest and most remarkable of .American historical families;" but though eight generations preceded him on American soil, it is John, the child of the little red house on the country road, that is always spoken of as "the first .Vd.ims:'" the histor- ical interest begins with him. He grew up and demanded an education, and attended at Harvard College. He graduated in 1755, and at twentv-three was a lawyer in practice. It is the popular fashion to regard John .\dams as a blunt and unpolished THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 75 man, original and sturdy, but not the peer in culture of Washing- ton and Jefferson, Madison and Monroe. On the contrary, Presi- dent Adams had a profound interest in all learning. He him- self writes, " I have spent an estate in books." And one who knew, said that " he was a classical scholar of high rank and a hard student all his life. His library teemed with old folios in the learned languages, and grave legal and historical works in Italian and French. He was thorough going in whatever he undertook and investigated everything for himself." BIRTHPLACES OF JOHN AD.\MS AND JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. {At Qitincy, Mass. John Adams was born in house at righi. in upper right-hand /rout room ; John Qidmy Adams in house at left.) As we have seen, one of his earliest acts was the acquirement of the best education at hand, and, as we are to see, one of his latest was the founding of an institution of learning. However, at thirty, young Adams was not yet a signer of the Declaration of Independence, Member of Congress, Minister to Great Britain, President of the United States ; and when he j6 THE J'AMIIA OJ-JOJ/X .4J>.L\fS. proposed for the hand of Miss Abigail Smith of Weymouth he was considered most presumptuous ; and when she accepted him she was severely criticised by the towns-])cople generally as not taking her equal. Was she not a descendant of the Quincys? Was not her father the minister? Xow, in those days and in New England, especially in Massa- chusetts, just as the Southern planter was the aristocrat of his section, so was the Puritan minister of his. His congregation obeyed and reverenced him. He was the first guest invited to any gathering and occupied a conspicuous seat. He was consulted upon domestic affairs, even prescribing in cases of sickness. He opened public meetings with prayer and decided what would better be discussed and what be let alone. His family partook to a great degree oif the reverence paid him, and each and all were more or less august individuals. Moreover, in this particular case, the daughter under discussion was a remarkably superior young person, very fair to look upon, of high bearing, already showing character. The match was loudly pronounced unsuitable and to be '■ broken up." Added to his grievous lack of property and aristocratic standing, Mr. John Adams had chosen law as a profession. Lawyers were then, among religious people, con- sidered to be a (luestionable class of nun. Public opinion, however, did not change Miss .Abigail's mind ; and when in October, 1764, she became Mrs. Adams, her father preached a sermon which had some bearing upon the spirit of gossip among his parishioners. This was his text: " For John cauic luitlicr eating bread nor drinking wine, and ye say he hath a devil'' .As time went on, this particular John failed to manifest any NIK--. IMIIN .M>\\l f lit,- ;^iittl madf at ahout tk* tin ,//„■. ,-,.,rr,„iv) e panel iiuide at about tlu- ti:uc cf lus :i:arr,age.) THE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 8 1 signs of having a devil ; instead he began to lead public opinion in all his section of country, and the Congregational minister grew fond of his son-in-law and of the four children who were born to him in the first ten years of his married life. But being "fond" does not mean that the ministerial grand- father rollicked and told funny stories or played ball with Mr. John Adams's children ; not at all. He held them in his lap, and assisted in their education, relating to them tales of the early settlers' experiences. For the people of that day and section were the most solemn of mortals. They seldom laughed, or addressed the members of the family by pet names. Children were admon- ished that the life on earth was a training-school in which they were to prepare for another world, and the more severe the disci- pline and application to work, the better prepared they would be to enjoy the heavenly home. This habit of looking at life caused people to appear cold and unworldly. It made them stern and exacting with their children ; nevertheless I think we may believe that the good cheer and prattle of the grandchildren of Mr. Smith often set his old heart beating and filled him with more pride and happiness than he chose to exhibit or acknowledge. The published letters of the John Adams family, the most interesting epistolary writing of the period, strike one by their quaint formality. The mother, no matter how long the father was absent, addresses him as " my dearest friend ; " and instead of relating at any length the sayings and doings of their little family she discusses the political situation through many pages. The little daughter. Miss Abigail, a beautiful young woman in after- life, according to the miniature by Copley, in a stately way 82 THE FAMILY OF JO IIX ADAMS. SII.VEK CKFAMtK OWNKI IIV JLIHN ADAMS. requests her motlicr to convey her "duty"' to Ikt father; in the years to come, so late as 1795, when Mrs. Adams has grown-up sons, we shall find her obliged to correct the inbred formality of one of them, Thomas Boylston, bidding him to address her as "mother, " not as " madame. " We may partially explain the cold manner of expression by the fact that letters in those days were liable to fall into other hands than those for whom they were intended. Yet Wash- ington and Jefferson at this time were writing and receiving tender notes from members of their families abounding in the " littic-names " and expressions of love. No, the reason lies in the i^eculiar training of the Massachusetts colonists; a vigorous discipline of both act and speech which resulted in establishing so firm a foundation for character that whereas the families of most of the great men of the last century are now unknown to the world at large, the great-great-grandchildren of John Adams are as able and as incorruptible as was he — men "that have a hold both on the minds and the imaginations of Americans." When the first gun of the Revolution was fired, in 1775, the little Adams children were with their mother at Hraintree, after- wards called Ouincv. They had been living in Boston, but the British occupancy of the city had driven them out. Mr. .Adams was in Congress which was in session at Philadelphia. That was hi> post of duty, and the best l)e could do for his family was to write home to his wife to " fly to the woods with the children" should the British attack them. While the lightnings of debate flashed blindingly in the halls \zotint engraving o/t/u- Portrait by Copley ^ painted in England at t i/te original was destroyed by Jire in 1857.) THE FAMIL V OF JOHN ADAMS. 85 where John Adams was the most arrant and determined rebel of the indignant little crowd of patriots, the thunder of actual battle was raging around Mrs. Adams's humble doors. She had but to climb Penn's Hill to see, literally, American liberty in process of making. One hot, clear June day, clambering up near the summit where is now the great iron water-works reservoir, the little John Ouincy and Abigail at her side, she looked across the bay and saw Charlestown burn and the lurid smoke of Bunker Hill. We have descriptions from the pens of both Mrs. Adams and the little eight-year-old boy. Mrs. Adams wrote : " The battle began upon our intrenchments upon Bunker Hill, Saturday morning, about three o'clock, and has not ceased yet, and it is now three o'clock Sabbath afternoon. Charlestown is laid in ashes. It is expected they will come out over the Neck to-night and a dreadful battle must ensue. . . How many have fallen we know not. The constant war of the cannon is so distressing that we cannot eat, drink or sleep. My bursting heart must find vent at my pen." Little John Ouincy writes later : "The year 1775 was the eighth year of my age. . . . Among the first fruits of the War was the expulsion of my father's family from their peaceful abode in Boston to take refuge in his and my native town of Braintree. . For the space of twelve months my mother with her infant children dwelt liable every hour of the day and of the night to be butchered in cold blood. . . . of being consumed with them all in a conflagration kindled by a torch in the .same hands which on the seventeenth of June lighted the fires of Charlestown. I saw with my own eyes those fires, . . . and witnessed the tears of my mother and mingled with them my own at the fall of Warren, a dear friend of my father and a beloved physician to me. He had been our family physician and surgeon, and had saved my forefinger from amputation under a very bad fracture." CKAULt IN WHICH JOHN ADAMS AND JuHN (jUINCY ADAMS WERE ROCKED. S6 THE J-.IMILY OF JOJIX ADAMS. On a bleak Marcli day they again climbed the hill and wit- nessed the storming of Dorchester Heights. This time Mrs. .Vdanis says : ^7^ Baby ^^5«i; CUtK " I have just ri.-turncd from Tcnn's Hill where I have been sitting to hear ilie amazing roar of cannon and from whence I could see every shell that was thrown. 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 en- gagement ; the rattling of the windows, the jar of the house, the continued roar of twcntyfour-pounders, and the burst ing of shells. About six thus morning there was quiet. I rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got possession of Dorchester Hill last night." /^rb John Adorns -^ for l,.r .on When the British evac- uated Boston the Adams family were on the hill-top * ;/, as usual, and saw the fleet of one hundred and seventy sail drop down the harbor. .Mrs. .\dams does not think the fight is over, but she is convinced of her countrymen's pluck, and hopes the British will have to pay " Bunker-Hill price " for every foot of American soil they get to themselves. These scenes remained vivid in the minds of the Adams children throughout life. They remembered, too, the pestilence which followed upon the battles and swept away whole families, and in their own household they nursed one another as best they could. During the Revolution they lived in the most frugal way. Often, on account of the blockade, and the patroling of the country JOHN QUINCY AS A CHILD. ( This 7vas the great-grasid/athcr , oit thi' mother's side, for ivhom John Quincy A davi The town- of Braintrce was rc-mimed Quhuy iii his honor. The painting iiangs in tJu old Charles Francis Adams house at Quincy.) THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 89 roads by British horsemen, or because there were none to go about and deliver food, they were denied even sufficient to safely subsist upon. Once they were four months without flour, and in one of Mrs. Adams's letters she says : " We shall soon have no coffee nor sugar nor pepper, but we will be content with whortleberries and milk." She adds, however, " I cannot wear leather if I go bare- foot," and begs for some " black calamanco " for shoes, and more than once cries out for pins — "not one pin to be purchased for love or money ; " and we find her forwarding stately thanks to some gallant acquaintance of Mr. Adams who has sent her " a bundle of pins." Mrs. Adams, though physically she might be so delicate that she could not "wear leather" was a woman of Spartan soul, a patriot mate for her husband, and the pair trained their sons in love for their country. The spirit of resistance to tyranny perme- ated the air the household breathed. The little boys, taught to write in their pinafore days, indited epistles of patriotism to their parent in Congress, addressing him as "sir." Mr. Adams says, "John writes like a hero, glowing with ardor for his country, and burning with indignation against her enemies." " Charles's young heroism charms me. Kiss him." Some writer of the time relates that just before Mr. Adams left home for Congress a company of Continental militia passed the night in Braintree and that the small John Ouincy was placed among the men by his father, given a musket, and instructed to go through the manual at the word of one of the- soldiers. Mr. Adams, no doubt, was highly gratified in gazing at this miniature rebel against King George. One of the company, years after- ward, called upon President John Ouincy Adams in Washington go IHl^ FAMJI.y OF JOHX ADAMS. atul rcinindcd him of tliat little military maiUL'Uvre. The boy received another sort of drill at his mother's hands. Every night, after the Lord's Prayer, said in bed, she taught him to repeat L\)llins"s patriotic Ode which begins : " How sleep the brave who sink to rest Ky all their country's wishes blest." This brave little Adams brood felt it no strange or dread thing to lose their lives, or endure hardships, or take risks in their country's time of troulile. To be patient and cheerful and obedient in the season of privation and danger was the part of patriotic children. Little John Quincy was installed to be the post-rider of the house, setting off whenever bidden, to go to and fro, horseback, between Boston and Braintree, eleven miles each way. with chances of capture or death all along; not nine years old was he then. .Abigail was the eldest of the John Adams children. She was carried to church in a chaise and baptized on the day of her birth, July 14, 1765. It is said that in looks she resembled her father in his youth. Her mother, writing of her to Mr. Adams, says, " your daughter, your image, your superscription." Copley paints her with an expression of cool self-poise and critical regard. It has been stated that she was her father's favorite, as John Quincy was his mother's; neither of these statements is probably true, for Mr. and Mrs. Adams were not the sort of parents to bestow all their love on a particular child — at least John Quincy spent much of his time with his father, whenever the country could spare him from her affair^, while Abigail was her mother's con- stant companion for twenty years. THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 91 She was fairly educated. Her mother tells us it was not considered needful or sensible to educate daughters in the higher branches of book-learning, but they were expected to be most IKUM AND HACK CUVEKS OF A I KEPT BY JOHN QUINCY ADAJI WHEN A KOY. ( Reduced atoiit one half. ) thoroughly trained in all domestic alTairs. The little Abigail's earliest duties were to rock her brother John Ouincy's cradle and to sing him to sleep. She gradually was promoted to practice housekeeping, worked her sampler and afterwards marked all the woollen and linen of the household in neat cross-stitch, and under- g2 THE lAMIlV OJ- JO//X ADAMS. stood darniiii!; upon lace and embroidery upon muslins and lawns. She probably could hem in short, even stitches, an art of which the girl of to-day is ignorant. Among the accomplishments of those days was letter-writing, and Abigail and her friends wrote very carefully-worded epistles during the week and carried them to church on Sunday and exchanged with one another. These letters were wholly unlike little girls' letters of our lime ; they were small essays, filled with religious sentiments. She learned economy in its strictest sense, such as very few people now practice. Even better than her brother, she remem- bered the lessons of the Revolution. As her mother's hand- maiden and companion, she daily saw forethought and saving brought into practice. She saw money carefully counted and apportioned, one intended purchase after another abandoned until only the fewest and the really indispensable things were bought ; she remembered when it took twelve Continental dollars to buy a pound of butter, twenty to buy a yard of linen and twenty to buy a gallon of molasses. She must have reached the period of young womanhood with a fine stock of patience, self-control, good judgment, knowledge of English and American public affairs, and many excellent ideas of what was right and what was wrong both in nations and individuals. She also had read several important works with her mother, and had an acquaintance with the English Classics, and may be considered to have been intelligent and informed bevond most of the young women of her time. The second of the John Adams children is the most widely known of the descendants of the Presidents. He was horn July ii, 1 767. and named John Ouincy for his THE FAMILY OP JOHN ADAMS. 93 great-grandfather who was a distinguished Congregational minister and a representative in the colonial legislature, being at one time its speaker. He was born on a Thursday or Friday, and his father carried him on Sunday morning to Weymouth to be baptized by his reverend grandfather, Mr. Smith. Nellie Custis, for instance, one always thinks of as a romping, laughing child, no matter how old one knows her to be. John Ouincy Adams's name always suggests the mature and serene statesman. Obedient and read)^ still as a child he was dreamy, meditative, curious, investigating.! He spent much of his time wandering about the woods of Braicf- rree alone, studying the habits of animals and the nature of plants, manifesting a love for reading — and withal was a strangely self- examining and self-repressing boy. He sets himself "stents" of study, and complains by letter to his father that his " thoughts are running after birds-eggs, play and tri- fles," and asks that gentleman to advise him " in writing " how to " proportion " his play and studies, that he may have the paper for consultation. Some very quaint diaries of his are preserved in the family, begun when he was eleven — little thin paper books stitched together in brown paper covers. The " illustrations " upon the earlier pages show the effect of the Revolutionary War upon the young imagi- nation. This diary keeping was continued through sixty-five years ; and the nineteen thick closely-written quarto volumes form a remarkable record of statesmanship, historical events, and saga- cious conclusions concerning public men and international rela- SILVER CoFIEE-POT UUNKD l;Y JOHN ADAMS. 94 THI- I'AMIiy Ol- JUHX ADAMS. tions — a JDurnal, in fact, of the making of the .American nation. His education, so far as s( lioolroom and regular teacher con- tributed, was fragmentary, but at ten the quality of his general knowledge was remarkable. He iiad browsed to good purpose among his father's books, had discussed the important events of the world's history with his mother, and had heard a great deal of serious conversation between men and women of a high order. One of Mr. Adams's law students, a Mr. Tha.xter, had resided in the family informally acting the part of tutor to the boys. At seven John had been reading Rollins' Ancient History aloud to his mother, and was also hard at work on the Latin language. His father wrote at that jDeriod, from Con^ness : "I hope to hear a good account of his accidence and nomenclature when I return." He often urged Mrs. .\danis to pay particular attention to the children's I'lench. He says, ■• I wish I understood French as well as you. I feel the want of education ever)' day. particu- larly of that language. I pray, my dear, that you would not suffer your sons or your daughter ever to feel a similar pain. It is in your power to teach them French, and I every day see more and more that it will become a necessary accomplishment of an .\merican gentleman or lady." He asks in the same breath for the author of her "thin French pronouncing grammar," and we may suppose him going over much the same lessons in Philadelphia as the little Braintree students were conning. Hut character-building was of still more importance in the patriot-father's eyes. His letters to the mother of these children abounded with grave injunctions. He was not making any money in serving his countrymen, and he often felt that his sons would have to hew every stej) of their way in the world. At the time 2'HE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 95 when he was preparing his Thoughts on Government he wrote to Mrs. Adams : " What will come of this labor, time will discover. I shall 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 some- thing. I believe my children will think I might as well have thought and labored a little, night and day, for their benefit. But I will not bear the reproaches of my children. I will tell them that I studied and labored to procure a free constitution of government for them to solace them- selves under, and if they do not prefer this to ample fortune, to ease and elegance, 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 cheerful hearts and free spirits, or they may be the children 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 meanness. Make them great and manly. Teach them to scorn injustice, ingratitude, cowardice, and falsehood. Let them revere nothing but religion, morality, and liberty. " Abby and Tommy are not forgotten by me, although I did not mention them before. 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 every one of them what they would choose to have, and write it to me in your ne.\t letter. From this I shall judge of their taste and fancy and discretion." Of " Tommy," who was the youngest child, we get many mentions in the published family letters. There is a pathetic glimpse of the little fellow down with the pestilence that followed the battles and privations of 1776, when "he is unwilling any but mamma should do for him," and " mamma " says " from a hearty, hale, corn-fed boy, he has become pale, lean and wan." 96 THK J-AM/LY OJ- JOIIX ADAMS. CHAPTKR II. IN EUROPE. I N the spring of 177S Con- gress sent Mr. Adams over to France to re- inforce Ur. Franklin there, as joint-commis- sioner. France was our friend and ally, and Mr. .Adams wasdeemed MKs. jun.N Ai-AM.s KA.N. ^^c bcst man to ac- (Carritd hy .\fri Adnm, mkrti frrunird lo tluir Majtslirs Km/^ Gevrgc CjUaint tllC FrCnCh GoV- •mhJ QurrH Ckarlollt: mnv in pesstuioH of ktr great-grtat- eraHddaugktrr, Mr,. Hood, fj Baltimore.) emmeilt Willi OUT SpC- cial needs and the details of our precarious situation. Dr. Franklin was reflective, a philosopher ; Mr. .Adams was a man of nerve, decision, j)n)mpt action. He took with him his eldest son. Master J. Q. was only ten, but as we know, had been always a great reader, and his mind and character had developed beyond the ordinary growth of boys of his age and time. In his thoughts he really was more at home in foreign lands than in .America, which to him, though a country worth fighting for, must have been, in the large, a blank wilderness without stories or legends, historic ruins or famous battlefields, noble libraries, palaces or cathedrals. He knew it to be the duty of grown-u]) .\mericans to give fight to kings and courts and parlia- THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 97 ments, and for their young sons to detest monarchs and all their tyrannous laws and deeds. Still the young student of Ancient History felt gratified at the prospect of beholding a crown and a throne. Continental Congresses were beyond doubt the finest things possible for the progress of the human race, and of course no conqueror was to be compared with his father and Mr. Han- cock and Mr. Sam Adams and General George Washington ; nevertheless he experienced an indescribable sensation of pleasure and swelling growth at the idea of exploring for himself the Old World of the histories. They set sail, and it was four months, all March and April and May and June and more, before the little family at Braintree received any tidings from the travelers. Vessels carrying letters, both ways, fell into the hands of English privateers, and the loyal American captains, fearing that the sturdy patriot and his wife had put political news into their pages important to the enemy, took the liberty of destroying the epistles. Meantime Mrs. Adams heard that Dr. Franklin had been assassinated in Paris, and feared the new Commissioner would meet with the same fate, or else be taken by English ships and hung out of hand ; for the British Government particularly disliked Mr. John Adams. For two months the report of Dr. Franklin's murder went uncontradicted, and the " horrid idea of assassination " haunted Mrs. Adams day and night. The vessel, too, in which Mr. Adams sailed, was not heard from, and for a long time was given up as lost. But Mr. Adams and " Johnny " — who, his father says, "behaved like a man " on the voyage — had arrived safely, and Mr. Adams was finding France " one great garden," its " delights innumerable. The politeness, the elegance, the softness, the deli- gS nil-: FAMILY or JOHX ADAMS. cacy. are cxtrciiK-," says the straiii^er from the Province of Massa- chusetts Hay, and "stern and haughty republican as I am I cannot help loving these people." "Johnny" was put in school, but his father took care that he should see something of French society in the homes of various illustrious families, and should attend on numerous fine public occasions. The report of the young Ameri- can's behavior is very satisfactory. Mr. Adams informs Mrs. Ailams : " My son has had a great opportunity to see this country, but this has unavoidably retarded his education in some other things. He has enjoyed perfect health, from first to last, and is rcs|>eclcd wherever he goes for his vigor and vivacity both of mind and body, for his constant good humor, and for his rapid progress in French as well as his general knowledge which for his age is uncommon." '■ .My little son gives me great pleasure both by his assiduity to his books and his discreet behavior. The lessons of his mamma are a constant lesson to him, and ihc reflection that they are so to his sister and brothers is a never-failing consolation to me at times when I feel more ten- derness for them than words can express or than I •iluuilcl choose to e.>cpress if I had power." Mrs. Adams read these letters from " sunny France " and answered them, amid the thousand cares and harassments of a "farmeress" as Mr. Adams sometimes called her. I*"arm-labor was eight dollars a day. She was paying forty dollars a yard for calico, four dollars a pound for >ugar, all food in proportion, and she writes to Mr. Adams that she supplies her own family "spar- ingly;" she says: ' I scarcely know the look or taste of biscuit or flour, for this four months." Families all through the New England section were fed as " sparingly." The j)ro.spects of the Continental .Army and the infant nation were dark, dark. She looks out from her bleak windows in Braintree upon " mountains of snow "and a winter hurricane, isolated from all but her children THE FAAIIL V OF JOHN ADAMS. 99 and her domestics, and sighs : " How insupportable the idea that three thousand miles and the vast ocean now divide us ! " then adds : " Difficult as the day is, cruel as the war has been, separated as I am, on account of it, from the dearest connection in life, I would not exchange my country for the wealth of the Indies or be any other than an American, though I might be queen or empress of any nation upon the globe." In the summer of 1779 Mr. Adams returned to America, as Congress had resolved to keep but one Commissioner in France. Even at that early period in American politics there were parties and policies, personal ambitions, leaders of factions and willing blackeners of character — even General Washington was attended upon by critics and traitors from first to last during the entire progress of the Revolutionary War. That intrigue prevailed among American public men abroad is not surprising. As Mr. Adams was determined " to love nobody and nothing but the public good " he often found himself unpopular on all sides, and he came home to his native land feeling that Congress and his country placed no value on his services. On the eve of leaving France he writes to Mrs. Adams: " The Congress, I presume, expect that I should come home, and I shall come accordingly. As they have no business for me in Europe I must contrive to get some for myself at home. Prepare yourself for moving to Boston, into the old house [on Queen Street], for there you shall go, and there I will draw writs and deeds, and harangue juries, and be happy." He arrived home, however, only to be sent immediately back to Europe on a new commission. It was decided between the parents, in view of the disadvantages at home for the education of their sons in the midst of all the commotion of a war, that he THE J-AMIIY OI- JOJLX .in.D/S. should take Jolin (jiiiiK) back with him, also the younger soir Charles, then about nine, for a considerable stay in Europe. The time should be spent partly in travel and partly in study. ,r\ f-jri-j.i A<^ //-., -/J. INSIDE FKU.NI COVhK A.M. IlKM 1 \.l i lili |.|\k\ l.K.IN liv |ii||N l.iUINCY ADAMS AT THE A(JE OF KI.KVKN, Kl.DLCI.D AllOLT UNK HALF. Next to their love for their country their consideration for the building up of the minds and characters of their children were uppermost in all that Mr. and Mrs. Adams did. They sailed in November. There was a <;oodly companv of them, Mr. Thaxter, the children's teacher, i^oing too, and a certain little Sammy Cooper, so that Mr. .Adams had three youngsters in charge. The opening pages of one of Ma^ter J. Q.'s little diaries. 2 HE FAMILY UF JOHN ADAMS. jqj reproduced here, give the story of the start, and show him to have had a common boy's enjoyment of all the small incidents of a sea- voyage. His mother and sister watched the frigate pass out down Nantasket Roads and drop below the horizon beyond Cohasset with lonely feelings. Still, the men of their house must get their educations and know the world ; the generation of young men next to come upon the stage of American affairs would need well- trained wits to manage the business of a new nation. PAGES TEN AND ELEVEN OF THE liIARY. The travelers had a slow, stormy winter voyage. Their frigate sprung aleak and they disembarked in Spain. They went by land into France. I02 THE lA.SflLV OF JOHN ADAMS. Mr. Adams wiitL-s about the niulc-back journey, a thousand miles, over tlie mountains, to I'aris : '• Nil post, bad roads, bad taverns and verj- dear. We must ride mules, horses not being to be had. I must get some kind of carriage (or the children if possible. Charles has sustained the voy.-ige and l>ehaves as well as ever his brother did. Sammy Cooper, too, is very well. These voung gentlemen give me a vast deal of trouble in this unexpected journey. I have bought a dictionary and grammar, and they are learning the Spanish language as fast as possible. What could we do if you and all the family were with me.'" They were three months reaching Paris. There he writes : •• The children are still in good health and spirits and well pleased with their academy. Ah I how much pain have these young gentlemen cost me within these three months I The mountains, the cold, the mules, the houses without chimneys or windows, the — I will not add. I wish for a painter to draw me and my company mounted on muleback, or riding in the calechcs, or walking, for we walked one third of the way. Vet by the help of constant care and ex|)cnse I have been able to get them .ill •." He adds that he hopes their travels will be of service to them, but those at home are best off. The " young gentlemen " themselves, however, must have con- sidered that they were very well off. They dined with the Amer- ican Commissioner in great houses and high company and " behaved beautifully" every time — miniature men in chapeaux, queues, powder and frilled shirts — and drove about agreat deal and visited public buildings, palaces, gardens, libraries and museums without number. Later they were placed in the University at Leyden. where they settled down with their American tutor, Mr. Tha.xter, to hard study, giving their principal attention to the French and German languages, as became lads who might be called upon to act as THE FA JUL y OF JOHN ADAMS. 103 foreign ministers in tlie future should their country succeed in becoming a nation. Mrs. Adams kept up a continuous correspondence with her sons. To Master John especially she wrote long letters full of advice. She told him he had been a great reader (he was familiar with Rollins' History at seven) and of course knew there had been and still was a great deal of crime in the world, but she thought he had never realized it. He was now going to have an opportunity to see it, and she warned him against getting familiar with it. She admonished him that he was accountable to his Maker for all his words and actions. This was not an unusual letter from a mother but he, an unusual son, not only replied in a way which would do credit to a college professor, but we are told by a noted man of the time that during his travels he often behaved with such discretion as to bring the blush of shame to the faces of his older companions. In 1 781, when he was fourteen, John Ouincy was appointed private secretary to Francis Dana, minister to Russia, and traveled with him through Germany to St. Petersburg to the court of the great Catherine. Aside from duties he found time to go on with Latin, German, French and history. The next winter he passed at Stockholm, and in the spring visited Copenhagen and Hamburg, traveling slowly and visiting eminent men on the route, spending time in art galleries, and examining the architecture in the countries he passed through. It was during this term abroad that the pastel painting was made of him at sixteen years of age, an etching of which is given as the frontispiece of this volume. The color-description of the original presents the idea of a handsome youth ; I04 'J'JH- 1AM J LY OrjOUX ADAMS. " Tliv licaack in a queue, and tied with a black riband. The cuniplexion is a fine blonde, charmingly accented by the dark eyes and irregular arched eyelirows, while a slight cast in the left eye, with the faint roguish smile that plays about the mouth, add a certain piquancy, making the face very pleasant to look at. The coat is of pale blue silk with a jabut of lace." Tliis pastel, thf hist pnrtrait made of him, he t^ave to his sister Abigail, and it is now in possession of her descendants, the De Windts. His father speaks of him at this age: '• He is grown to be a man, .tnd the world says they should take him for my younger brother, if they did not know him to be my son. . . . He is very studious and delights in nothing but l>ooks, which alarms me for his health ; because, like me, he is naturally inclined to l>e fat. His knowledge and his judgment are so far l>eyond his years, as to be admired by all who have conversed with him. I lament, however, that he could not have his education at Harvard College, where his brothers shall have theirs if Providence should afford me the means of supporting the expense of it." As for little Charles, who was a delicate lad at the best, the Dutch air did not agree with him, and he was homesick besides, and was sent back to America; and after manv mishaps and much wandering and changing of ships he arrived at the old home in Hraintree, to the relief of his mother, who during the four months after she knew he had sailed had heard onlv once from him — a vessel had been seen by some one who saw a child on board and was told that it was Mr. John Adams's son. The years of this sojourn abroad were eventful for America. Mr. Adams gained much for his country with foreign governments, but Mrs. .Adams wished often that her husband was once more "an untitled man," ant! Mr. .Adams frec|uently resolved to return home. .A life of simple frugality on his farm with his books and THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 105 his family about him, with his country at peace, was his dream. At dinner with Dukes and Duchesses, Senators and Ambassadors, he wishes that instead he were dining on plain roast beef with Braintree and Weymouth neighbors, or on rusticoat potatoes with his wife and children. So we read in his letters. But the affairs of America requiring him to stay, his family joined him abroad in 17S4. This was a great event for the Adams young people, especially for Miss Abigail to whom, at eighteen, her father was still practically a stranger. She cjuaintly expresses her opinion of this gentleman after a year's acquaintance : " I discover a thousand traits of softness, delicacy and sensibility in this excellent man's char- acter. I was once taught to fear his virtues ; happy am I that I find them rather to love, grown up into life unknown to him, and ignorant of him. . . How amiable, how respectable, how worthy of every token of my attention, has this conduct rendered a parent, a father, to whom we feel due even a resignation of our opinions ! " Mr. Adams and his son came to London from the Hague to receive them, and they all went to Paris, taking a house at Auteuil, " very large and very inconvenient," says Miss Abigail, " about fifty little apartments, so small, most of them, as to be inconvenient for lodging," and there they proceeded to live after the French st3'le ; and though Miss Abigail would have liked to follow her American ideas of taste, she says "we must all sacrifice to custom and fashion," and dutifully adds, " I will not believe it possible to do otherwise ; for my papa, with his firmness and resolution, is a perfect convert to the mode in everything, at least of dress and appearance." The Massachusetts girl looked on at the fairy-tale French life, in which she presently found herself involved, with a very critical lo6 THE lAMHY Ol- JOHX ADAMS. eye. She moved about obediently as her part required. Slie had her airings in a grand coach and she and her parents and brothers took their place in imposing processions and parades. She at- tended ambassadors' dinners, and her father gave dinners in return to which came many princes of many nationalities. She mentions various pageants and shows, among them a certain day. Ash Wednesday perhaps, when the King and Queen washed the feet of a number of poor children in public, and gave them a repast, " their Highnesses," as she terms them, acting as waiters. But strange as it may seem in a young person of eighteen, she chiefly occupied herself with a study of Parisian manners, and an analysis of the French people's philosophy of life. However, it is to be remembered that Miss Abigail Adams was not a person with an ordinary mind, but the daughter of her father and mother. She notes in her diary: "This people are more attentive to their amusements than anything else;" that " no one in Europe is fearful of asking a remembrance." otherwise a " tip; " is aston- ished when she finds a house that is "elegant and neat at the same time ; " speaks of a French gentleman as " an agreeable man who has been in .America and was perhaps improved;" feels a repug- nance to dining off silvor and gold dishes which she "cannot like as well as china; " admires the softness, sweetness and affability of " French ease;" criticises those ladies "who by an e.xuberance of sprightliness and wit slip from the path of being perfectly agree- able ; " notes that Madame de la Fayette does not like French ladies and prefers Americans; that " it will not do to see any danc- ing after that at the opera which exceeds evervthing in the world; " criticises women with grace who lack dignity — "grace," she savs, "depends upon the person, actions and manners; dignity MRS. WIIMAM S. SMITH. (.M;lr,,\II, An.\MS.) (Painted lee the wise politician, the good statesman, and the patriot in embryo." These things were written to Mrs. .\dams — that " incompara- ble mother," as her great son called her in his after years. In his correspondence with his sister there may be found a very fully-painted picture of the Harvard College of the day and the pompous President at that time. The writing of these amus- ing, satirical letters seems to have been his chief rela.xation from study. It was the tutors who came in for his heartiest ridicule. He speaks of the "awful distance" between them and tho.se whom thev were supposed to teach and assist: " .V Turkish bashaw could not be more imperious ... nor will they in any manner mix with the students so as to give them information upon any subject . . . it is entirely in- consistent for a tutor to treat a scholar tike a gentleman. How do you think this sets upon your lirother's stomach.' Such are these giants who, like the Colossus, l)estride the whole length of ll.nrvard College." Recreating himself with these outbursts, his practice upon a flute, and his vacation visits to Quincy and Haverhill, he did an THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 12 1 immense amount of hard work and carried off the class honors. His graduation oration was sought for publication in the leading magazines and newspapers of the day, and was much discussed by politicians and the press. He studied law for three years, and was admitted to practice in 1790, when he was twenty-three years old. He opened an office in Boston. Speaking of that time he says : " I was without support of any kind, I may say I was a stranger in that city although almost a native of that spot. I say I can hardly call it practice, because for the space of one year from that time it would be difficult for me to name any practice which I had to do. For two years irideed I can recall nothing in which I was engaged that may be termed practice, though during the second year there were some symptoms that by preserving patience practice might come in time. The third year I had little, but the fourth year I felt it swelling to such an extent that I no longer felt any uneasiness." During this season of waiting for clients he wrote upon public affairs for the newspapers. The articles attracted much notice. President Washington particularly liking them, and they were collected and published abroad in England and Scotland, where they received the attention of public men. Just as he had reached the point of professional prosperity, however, his country claimed his services. On his twenty-seventh birthday he was appointed minister to the Netherlands ; two years later minister to Portugal ; but before he could make his arrange- ments to leave for Portugalhe received a third diplomatic appoint- ment — this time to Berlin. He seems to have been a favorite with General Washington, who could justly weigh the caliber of the young statesman and who repeatedly pronounced him " the most valued character we have abroad." Before going to Germany he visited London and was married ,22 TJIK JA.Mll.y OJ- JOllX ADAMS. to Miss Louise Catherine Johnson, a clau.2;hter of the American Consul. They set out for Berlin, but upon their arrival at the outer gates a dapper officer chose not to admit him to the city, ,'ven after he had explained his position. There was some con- versation about the matter, but at last a private succeeded in ex- plaining to the officer "who the United States of America were.' Meantime, his sister and her husband had returned to AmeriettT and settled in New York. Later came Mr. and Mrs. Adams, who were welcomed home wilii honors in tlieir own New England. The Governor of Massachusetts wished to go out from Hoston with his coach-and-four and his light-horse to escort them to Hraintrec, and all " Hraintree was for coming out to Milton Bridge to meet us," writes Mrs. Adams to her daughter, " but this we could by no means assent to." They quitted Hoston privately, Mr. Adams one day, Mrs. Adams the next, and so got to the old home. They found the house filled with carpenters, masons and farmers. The natural effect of taking up this life af^ain upon a woman so long accustomed to Paris and London establishments, Mrs. .Adams sets down in her letter. Speaking of the house she says, " in height and breadth it feels like a wren's house." She bids Mrs. Smith to " wear no feathers " when she comes, and Colonel Smith "no heels to his boots," or they will not be able to walk upright. When was the politics of any country without cabals and in- trigues? Certaiiilv not in .\merica in tlie nineties of the eighteenth century. Mr. John .Adams, on his farm at Quincy, looked on with something of the restive feeling of the stalled war-horse ftir the fray, whose cannon he ht-ars. lit- writes to his daughter in that litrht. hitter stvle of which he was a master: Rnillt,, d'n,t'>y /O^^ /7^/i rl>finfwiiih,1l, ^^OMttiK S^Cx'tn.yu JiAy\^/ia4 cyxnch^ hi/r y if; ^ a.Jau'Y ^^ •/"itriLnt-/s Amr /rr. fill, J^Ai}), Jo MuiLti'iJ AMtitfy BrStttctCjtyi. — .i (tin )li)0 I'vijin x-A- /l,y, ^ov Uf ■ J. ,^^^^ /^ ^ />,/,/„■„ "tiun^. ni\^ ivAa nA /.? ^ /iiavvu /iiv //ewii/UxA, // J- ycct'lW CI. Xt/tlvXvn\. lloii^^ III 9/inLr- \Ato/fivV J- J tin mj . l* in riiiladelphia. Bush Hill on the Schuylkill. She alighted at its gates one late cold fall I'riday to find her furniture standing in wagons outside, no fires, the rooms " all green-painted, the workmen there with their brushes in hand. This was a cold comfort," she writes Mrs. Smith, "in a hou.se where I suppose no fire had been kindled for several years except in a back kitchen." There was no wood, there were no pro- visions, and the Mrs. Vice-President went to a tavern for the night. Next day she returned, made her way in through boxes, barrels, chairs, tables, trunks, and with her people fell to work, built fires, set up beds, unpacked china and bedding, and late on Saturday evening got so far settled as to be able to stay. She succinctly states the consequences: '• < >n SiiiuLiy Thomas was laid iip with the rheumatism ; on Monday I \v.vs obliged to give I.ouusa an emetic ; on Tuesday Mrs. Bieler was taken w ith her old pain in her stomach ; and to complete the whole, on Thursday Polly was seized with a violent pleuritic fever. . . . .\nd every day, the stormy ones excepted, from eleven until three the house is filled with ladies and gentlemen." She adds that some days she has not been able to sit up; also thankfulness that she has "one room decent to receive her com- pany " ; also that onf i)f President Washington's family came to call and assured her that she was better off than .Mrs. Washington THE FAMIL Y OF JOHN ADAMS. 129 would be when she arrived, as the President's house was not likely to be completed for months. To fill the sum of her troubles her trunks had got wet a foot high "on the leaky vessel which brought them from New York " and satin gowns and embroidered robes were ruined — "the blessed effects of tumbling about the world," adds she, groaning with ague in the face and a violent toothache. V^-'- a^^ t' —^ r^ sr — «• • ^/ — ' '-— ~ ^ii? _^ <. iK — '- 1: !|t S. - /i-i' • FAC-blMlLE AUIOGRAI'H LETTtK BY JOHN ADAMS, MUCH KEIJUCED IN SIZE. Official life, too, was conducted with a deal of trouble and toil. The weather was snowy and dismally cold, and the two-mile road from Brush Hill into town, if she would attend upon Mrs. Wash- ington's drawing-rooms, was of brick clay — "the horses," she avers, "wallow along up to their knees in a bed of mortar." But Philadelphia society was brilliant, and Mrs. Adams in time became fond of her official home. The " court circle " boasted of several great beauties and many men and women noted for wit 130 TJII-. J-AM/IV OFJOIIX ADAMS. and brcedins;; but among them all a native superiority of sense and judgiuent and a lofty view of life distinguished the Massachu- setts matron, and it was she who gave the tone to the conversation ; not unfrequently some rapier remark of hers in the drawing-room, cutting through a tangle of opinions and reaching the root of the matter, silently atTected public decisions. Mr>. Adams invariably retained the admiration and respect of the jjolitical enemies Mr. Adams made. The inner honic-life at Brush Hill was always as sinij^le and natural as at Ouincy. The little grandson, of whom his mother wished he might study law with his grandfather, was a mem- ber of the household. lie was not of an age at that time to devote himself to Coke and Lyttelton ; instead he used to drive the \'ice-President about after dinner every dav with a willow stick, much to the delight of that gentleman, and much to the detriment of Mrs. Adams's carpets. It was for this same little John .Smith, the son of his favorite aid-de-camp, that President Washington used to inquire of .Madame X'ice-President at the state dinners, and once, "take the.se to .Master John from me," he said, picking out the raisins from a cake. The youngest Adams son was with the Philadelphia household, Thomas Boylston, the "rogue " and fun-lover of whom — his rosi- ness and jollity abated somewhat from hard study — his mother writes: "He who dies with studying dies in a good cause, and may go to another world much better calculated to improve hi> talents than if he had died a blockhead. " This son did not die early, nor belie the promise of his merrv boyhood, but lived to be a rosy, handsome, white-haired old gentle- man of a very imposing presence. He married one of the beautiful THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 131 Miss Harrods of Newburyport. He lived for a long time in the little red house on the Braintree road where his father was born. He was then Judge Adams, fond of good living and of his friends, genial, courtly, and fascinating in conversation. Mr. Adams succeeded General Washington in the Presidency, and the family continued to live at Philadelphia, though Mrs. Adams often returned to the Ouincy home. She was ill there and did not witness the inauguration. Instead she wrote her husband a letter on that morning which will go down to posterity. Her head was not turned. She reflected with awe upon their larger responsibilities toward the American people. During the last year of the term Washington became the seat of Government — Washingtonople some wished to call the town — and it fell to Mrs. Adams's lot to again pack her household goods. Her journey thither, as First Lady of the Land, was no more of a pageant than her removal from New York had been. They went slowly, by carriage, and on leaving Baltimore took the wrong road and lost their way in the woods. There was no guide, no path. Finally "a straggling black" came up and he extricated them. " It was at that period all woods from Baltimore to Wash- ington, with here and there a small cot without a glass window." The national capital was not then our modern " city of mag- nificent distances," but rather " a place of brick kilns and laborers' huts." " Pennsylvania Avenue leading from the Capitol to the Executive Mansion was a deep morass covered with alder bushes." "About forty brick houses — the remainder wooden huts — the streets and avenues cut through the woods," says an English letter- writer of 1800; the same person, after accusing General Washing- ton of vanity in having the capital named after himself, prophesies 132 'IJll: I'AMII.y Ol- JOUX ADAMS. that "as soon as ho is defunct, the city which is to be the boasted monument of his greatness will also be defunct." The While 1 louse which she pronounces " upon a j^rand and superb scale, requiring about thirty servants." Mrs. Adams found to be cheerless, if regarded as a home, but said, " If they will put nie uj) some bells and let me have wood enough to keep fires I design to be pleased. . . Surrounded with forests, can you believe that wood is not to be had because people cannot be had to cut and cart it.'''" What firewood she could get she burned to dry the walls of the house, and then, she says, "had recourse to ^-^^ coals : but we cannot get grates made and set. v\u IrJ^j ^^ ^' 'I'l^'*-" indeed come into a new countrv." she \\^^ \^ adds with the shiver of a frontier woman. Not a .. „,„ ^ single room was finished, the principal srai'rs were "A RtWARD OK IN- f' ' ' msiRY." not up, and on Mondays the White House washing '^'j''ohTAowl, and cake in the plates. All went smoothly until my grandmother went out of the room for a few minutes. When she returned Ann's envy had overcome her friendship, and though she had tied, the china remained — in little bits on the floor. She had smashed it all. .\s toys were more rare, and consequently more valuable in those days than now, this incident produced a coolness between the friends, which lasted until some one gave Ann an extremely pretty, but small wax-doll, and she invited my grandmother to spend the after- noon with her. My grandmother went, carrying her own doll, and the two little girls played most happily together; while .Ann with proud superiority displayed the advantages of her doll, which was wax and could open and .shut its eyes. But in one unlucky moment she turned her back, and like a flash, the wax head was in my grandmother's mouth and two rows of vindictive little teeth closed through the neck. With a triumphant 'There!' my grandmother put the several parts into Ann's hand, and walked out of the house ; she always ended the story with, • And I never was sorry that I bit that doll's head off ! ' " A story that belongs to an earlier period was of Mrs. Gushing who was a most admirable woman and a valued friend of Mrs. Adams, but she and her husband. Judge Cushing, were rather noted, I believe, for a lack of, what an old minister I once knew, called 'personal pulchritude.' I have no doubt my grandmother had heard this fact frequently mentioned, and once when driving with Mrs. .\dams and Mrs. Cushing, she was so moved by the latter's ugliness that after gazing steadily at her for several minutes, she exclaimed, 'Mrs. Cushing! the Judge and you are the ugliest couple I ever knew.' Mrs. Cushing was so delighted with the youthful (and truthful) poet, that she gave her a hieroglyphic Itible, which was preserved for years. " My grandmother delighted to tell of when she was a young lady, going with her grandmother to a dance in Hoston, when she, being in light mourning, wore a short black satin skirt, black silk stockings, and black satin slippers. A United States man-of-war was in boston harlwr, and several of the officers came to the ball. <»ne, a young Marylander, being a stranger, was asked to whom he should like to be introduced, lie looked around the room, and said, 'That's the prettiest fool here,' and chose niv crandmother's black satin slippers. She after>vards married the young lieutenant." The noisy little creature was a great favorite with the old President. She had the Adams capacity for a hard task of work, and that always commended any young person to his favor. She THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 135 was a very neat penman. When he was a Commissioner on the Fisheries dispute between Holland and the United States she copied for him some thirty foolscap pages, and he took pleasure in desiofnino; a suitable reward. He commanded a beautiful rin" to V ADAMS. MRS. JOHN QriNCY ADAMS. {Aliniatures ittade about tJte time of their marriage^ atidnow i?l possession of II'. C. fo/uison, Es//., Nc7ulniryport, Mass. TItat of JoknQuiiuywas ivorn by his another, Mrs. Abigail Adams, as a clasp on a bracelet ofbla^k velvet ribbon ; the clasp on the companion bracelet laas the miniature of her son, Thomas Boylston Adams.) be made ; it was mounted with twelve great pearls and contained his hair and her grandmother's, and he said impressively, as he gave it to her, " This is a reward for your industry." She was next in Washington again as the wife of Lieutenant Clark, when her uncle John Ouincy was President Monroe's Secretary of State; a gay, witty young society woman. She was great friends with Miss Maria Monroe. The stately receptions at Mrs. Monroe's she disliked, and after paying her respects she and some others of the young society matrons used to slip away to houses where etiquette permitted the guests to sit. When she 136 JtH- i:\MII \ 01 JOIJ.\ ADAMS. went to Washington that time, with her husband, in 181.S, the Susciiiehanna was found to be frozen soUd. and she and her baby ill iier arms, as a la>t resort, were strapped to one of her big trunks and liauled over the ice. They came midway to a place where the ice was breaking uj), and there they had tt) make a detour and be lifted trom cake to cake, and it was such a slow progress that the poor little baby's hands and feet were frosted. She was a widow at the time her uncle entered the V\'hite House. She became widely known in after life, in Southern society, as Mrs. Treadway. and lived to be of great age, over ninety. It was to her little .Susan that the aged President at Quincy refers in a tender letter, in which he says: Jka n^Mj t" Ltnjtt laufh a/nJ c/ron) oLflu Ji^V a^ /fu. One, sending a photograph of the silver spoon which has the Adams coat of arms on the back, with which the "little cherub" used to eat, says, " It was formerly in tlie John Adams family and all the children have eaten from it, I suppose. It is used every day by tlie Mrs. D. C. Woods family and shows that a few genera- tions have bit it, but the .Adams bite was as carefully done as all their other acts, and so it is not as mutilated as many spoons but a few years old. " On returning to Quincy. the ex-President wrote to his son Thomas, who was then in Europe, with some asperity as to the rewards of public service. He was speaking of the return o[ Mr. John Quincy .Adams to .America just previous to his election as J T-t^fciL*^ y*-L*V fiAj^ -^Zl. ^^ ^ ^jL^,f^ «*v^ X-W*. ^i**« *.?^Wt, (du^ tl^ tAM^w-v.^ Ja.iui i c-.>v?^ <;.'>^^'^'^ °^ a^ „ ^^ iu^t^ l>,^^ ^M. ^4^ .5^^Ly y^^^.^-^,^ •>u_H)N AhAM- THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. i ^q senator, hoping that the young diplomatist would " have nothino- more to do with politics in a public station," and adding, " //" / tvci'c to go over my Life again I lootcld be a shoemaker rather than an American statesman ; " then records with pleasure of Thomas's mother that " a fine night's sleep has made her as gay as a girl." Mrs. Adams writes to her son-in-law that he may tell Mrs. Smith she has commenced her operations of dairywoman and may be seen at five o'clock in the morning skimming milk, and that Mr. Adams is in his fields attending to his haymakers. The patriot pair truly were of the people, elected to high places by the people to serve the people, and returning again to the people. For nearly eighteen years they enjoyed together a simple and united home life. Fireside pleasures, quiet and security had been denied to their lot all their married years up to 1801 — depriva- tions accepted with a Spartan sense of responsibility to their time and their country. After Mrs. Adams's death in 1818 the old President writing to his granddaughter, Mrs. De Windt, said of his wife : " She never by word or look discouraged me from running all hazards for the salvation of my coinitry's liberty. She was willing to share with me and that her children should share with us both in all the dangerous consequences we had to hazard." The heaviest sorrows that came in the retirement at Ouincy were the deaths, first of their daughter Mrs. Smith, then, a few years later, of Colonel Smith. An intimate intercourse always had been preserved between the two families. The daughter was always returning under the old roof, and to the grandchildren the Quincv farm was another ,^0 '^'11 ^-^ J-iMll.y 01- JO II. \ ADAMS. home. Mrs. Smith, trained by a life of variety and the highest society of her time, had ripened into a woman worthy of her mother's intellectual companionship. Mrs. Adams during the remainder of her life deeply missed her daughter as a friend. Both parents from the first had had sentiments of fondness and pride for their daughter's husband. The gayety of spirit and geniality of feeling which Colonel Smith possessed arc not often united in the same person with the energy and commanding executive ability which characterized Mr. Adams's son-in-law. His superior ability and disposition were perhaps most conspicuous in his work as an army officer. During the most depressing season his men were in good spirits, full of esprit dc corps. In camp the huts for his men were alwavs completed before he would let a stick of his own be laid. 1 le had a " way with him." Me would not admit the fact that the world was not going right. There is an instance of this in a letter to his wife which illustrates his |-)rnnipt, crisp way with his command: " No officer or soldier, or even any of the inhabitants, dare say it's cold in camp. A laughable circumstance occurred the other morning, just after the beating of the reveille drum, when the siftfacc of the earth was covered with a strong frost. I w.-is walking to the huts, was overtaken by a counlrvman who had brought poultry to market ; who communicated his errand, and said, rubbing his hands, and teeth chattering, ' 'tis a plaguy sharp morning, Cohmcl ; 'tis terribly cold.' ' Are you cold, mv friend ?' ' Ves, ver\-.' ■ Here, sergeant of the guard, take this friend of mine, put him by the guard (ire, put a sentinel over him, until he is about half roasted ; for no man must be cold in this camp. And every man hereafter who imagines himself so, and presumes to express it, must be roasted ; for it is a fine pleasant morning, and the weather will continue fine until our huts are built.' The countr>-man had nut long been by the fire, before he l)egan to Iwg. I kept near ; at length he called t.i me, ' For goodness sake. Colonel, let me go ; they'll roast me I Forgive me this time, and if 1 am half froze to death, I'll never say it's cold, when I am in camp again.' I let him off in a perspiration. It is now fine fun for the soldiers j if any of them happen to say it'> cold, his comrades take him, neck and heels, and carry him to the fire, and amuse themselves much with this trifle. I.ct it be ever so sharp, the soldiers say ' it's a beautiful fine day, huzza ! ' " MISS ELIZAl;Kril MS, A|- SKVENTY-sia'EN. (Daushlcr of Tlwmas Boylsto,, A Aims, n„d ukcc of John Quiucy Ada, Front photograph made in 18S5.) THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 143 He says of his men, in the same winter : " Our canij) is a military paradise ; if I lool< they are solicitous to understand it — if I speak they jump to execute ; in short they are all obedience, and I am more placid and elegantly serene than ever you saw me; I think sometimes, if you could but remark me through the day, you would be half in love with me by tca-tinie." He was for many years Surveyor of the Fort of New York and Inspector of Customs, and also served his countrymen in Congress. He died in 1816, in Lebanon, in Central New York, where he owned large tracts of the country. The descendants of this .Smith family are scholarly people. Mrs. Caroline De Windt's volumes of her parents' letters are known to all students of history. One granddaughter is the wife of Mr. C. P. Cranch the artist. Another of the family is the wife of Mr. Clarence Cook the art-critic. Mrs. Adams lived to see her eldest son, John Ouincy, a ruler in the political affairs of his ccnintry, his sagacity and states- manship acknowledged by his fellows. He was serving as Secre- tary of State under President Monroe at the time of her death. Mr. Adams lived to see him the President of the United States. He was an aged man then. The high honor and the pride his townsmen felt at his son's success must have filled the heart of the venerable patriot with tides of pleasure and satisfaction. When the result of the election was assured, a delegation from Boston went out to Quincy at midnight to inform the old President. The congregation at church the day before had been broken in upon by the arrival of an old gentleman from Dorchester who entered and announced, just as the minister was reading his text, that their fellow townsman, the Honorable John Ouincy Adams, had been elected President, when great cheering and clapping filled the house. ,^^ THE FAMILY Ot- JOHX AlK\.\rS. Judge Tlioinas Hoylston Adams and his family lived with Mr. Adams after the death of Mrs. Adams. A visitor at Quincy saw the aged patriot in the last months of his life, when he was over ninetv ; he says, " When all were seated at table two servants siukknlv entered the dining-room bearing the old President, arravfd in white flannel, in an arm-cliair, where he was seated at the right of Mrs. Thomas Buylston Adams ; " he further describes him as hale, with a kindly aspect and face unwithered. He pre- served the use of liis intellect throughout life and an interest in public affairs, receiving up to the last public men as his guests. " Montezillo " (a pretty little mountain) as Mr. Adams some- times playfully designated his home in allusion to President Jeffer- son's estate, " Monticello " (a beautiful mountain), came with the bulk of Mr. Adams's property into the possession of the eldest son, who made it his family home during his life. Judge Adams died in 1S32. His sons, inheriting military tastes from their father, were all educated for their country's service, either in the armv or the navy. Tiiere were four sons and two daughters. Two of these are still living in Quincy, at the old house, Mr. Hull Adams and his sister Elizabeth. Miss Adams, who is a great traveler and loves to meet those surviving of the earlier generations, at eighty writes letters with the light touch and sparkle of a Sevigne ; in a note a few weeks ago, describing some characteristic Adams training, she says: " I h.ivt been lonp acciistomcd tn wrilinj; letters. begiiiiiinR I think when ciRht ve.irs old, con- tiniiinp iip to the time when I write myself eighty years instead of eight. My mother sealed us at the table to show us hcu' to write letters, and one of our first efforts — my sister Abigail, older than I _ was to write to a Quaker ladv in Philadelphia for a Quaker doll dressed in gray silk and (,)uaker cap, pincushion and knitlini; at the side, a perfect copy of the Quaker style of dress. THE FAMILY OF JOHN ADAMS. 145 " This doll became famous at the Centennial Exhibition where I sent it as a present to the Museum, it having been dressed by a Philadelphia lady, Mrs. Butler, whom my father was very fond of, and all her family. I had the pleasure of seeing it in its new abode during the Exhibition, and the lace scarf that had been worn by Mrs. Abigail Adams, the same, I think, that Stuart painted in her portrait. My mother often said she was rewarded in after-life as her children were away from her so much and always writing her from whatever country they visited." . . . In the same note she says : " We are enjoying a pleasant day, and the crackers remind us that the Fourth is near. They do observe the day as our Grandsire John desired — by the firing of cannon and ringing of bells, and illuminations ; hut he diJ not say crackers" " Grandsire John " and his wife sleep in the stone church at Ouincy, where they worshiped, and the beautiful mural tablets tell their virtues and their fame to all the congregations. But the enduring monument to his memory is the Adams Academy built by the fund created by him for that purpose ; it stands on the site of the birthplace of John Hancock. It is a classical school for boys, one of the great feeders of Harvard College. In his deed of gift the practical old President says: " I hope the future master will not think me too presumptuous if I advise them to begin their lessons in Greek and Hebrew by compelling their pupils to take their pens and write, over and over again, copies of the Greek and Hebrew alphabets, in all their variety of characters, until they are perfect masters of those alphabets and characters. This will be as good an e.xercise in chirog- raphy as they can use, and will stamp those alphabets and characters upon their tender minds and rigorous memories so deeply that the impression will never wear out, and will enable them at any period of their future lives to study those languages to any extent with great case." So long as the story of the struggles of the various peoples on our globe for independence and self-respect continues to interest each fresh generation, John Adams is secure of his honors. It was to posterity that he looked for his full dues. III. THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON, CHAPTER I. SCIIOOI, DAYS IN FRANCE. MUG BELO.\(;lN(; TO THOMAS JEFFERSON. THE little people of Thomas Jefferson's family had nearly the same surround- ings as the Custis children. Their father's estate, Monticello, was a domain of several thousand acres, and their mother, like Mrs. Washington, was a woman of fortune. They were of the aristocracy of Virginia, their home was stately, they were accustomed to slaves, and to proffer and accept the generous hospitality which abounded among the Southern plant- ers of those days. Of the six children three only survived their mother, who died ten years after her marriage; and these were daughters. But no man was ever better fitted by nature to rear a family of girls without the mother's help than Thomas Jefferson. Like little Miss Abigail Adams in Massachusetts, these Jeffer- son girls had a taste of the terrors of the Revolutionary War; they had to fly from home with their mother when the British l^O ^^/^' JAM 1 1. V or THOMAS I JllKKSOX. generals, Tarlcton and Cornwallis, came through Virginia. Their father, who was (.io\ernt)r of the State at that time, made hut a hair-breadth escape. Tlie home-mansion, .Monticello, a beautiful place in the Blue Ridge region, was preserved from harm by Tarleton ; but on another estate owned by JelTcr.son, where Corn- wallis took po>.session, the barns were burned, crops destroyed, stock driven off or else cruelly killed, and the slaves carried away to die wretchedly. These financial losses he must have felt, for there were si.x adopted children in his family ; si.x little nephews and nieces — fatherless else — sharing all things with his own children. This grievous "fortune of war" befell in the last year of Mrs. Jefferson's life, and her eldest child, Martha, was nine years old at the time. The little girls left to Mr. Jefferson were Lucy, Martha and Mary. Of Lucy, who was a baby when her mother died, the family traditions are few. She is said to have inherited the musical tastes and gifts of both parents. We are told that the little creature at the age of two and a half years listened to music with six'll-bound interest and that she wept when a performer struck a false note. She died f)f whooping-cougii a short time after her mother's death, while in the family of her aunt, Mrs, Eppes ; the little Lucy Eppes and the little Lucy Jefferson both " fell sacrifices " — " two sweet Lucys," writes Mrs. Eppes to Mr. Jefferson, who is in iMaiKc. Both ^Lartha and Mary reached maturity. Two months after Mrs. Jefferson's death, Mr. Jefferson received an appointment as Plenipotentiary to France, and >Lirtha accompanied him to the Old World. The baby Lucy, as we have seen, was left with Mrs. Eppes, and so was Mary. They expected to sail immediately, but THE FA MIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 1 5 i Congress kept Mr. Jefferson in Philadelphia for some time, and Martha, then eleven years old, was placed in school where she was carefully taught for a few months. From the day of her mother's death, tliroughout Mr. Jefferson's whole life, Martha, or " Patsy " as he lovingly called her, was his companion, and in later life his counselor. While in Philadelphia we find her, like a great many grown people of those days, haunted with the many superstitions of that time, and writing her fears to her father as to the end of the world being near. He replies : "I hope you will have good sense enough to disregard those foolish predictions that the world is to be at an end soon. The Almighty has never made known to anybody at what time He created it ; nor will he tell anybody when He will put an end to it, if He ever means to do it." It is during this little separation from his daughter that we first see Mr. Jefferson endeavoring to take the mother's place. We find from his letters that he insists that Martha shall be perfectly tidy in appearance, tliat she shall always have her hair neatly combed. In the morning, as well as evening, she must never be seen by any- body carelessly attired, especially not by gentlemen — he writes her that his sex despises slovenliness. But we are not told whether little Miss Jefferson needed this advice or heeded it if she did. At any rate, in 1784, she went abroad with him, entered a French convent-school where she staid for several years, and after careful search we find no mention of her being careless in dress or person. The little American was very lonely at first. The change was great from a Virginia plantation where she had opportunities to ride, play among the flowers and with the tame deer, say her lessons to her indulgent father and have almost the freedom of a bird, to a convent where she knew no one and could not even 1^2 J HI- lA.MII.y OF THOMAS J El- J- J: R SON. converse with the children, for she spoke no tongue but her own. She long used to weep for her father's absence many times during the dav: ami then wher. he did come, at evening, she wept again — fir.-.t for joy and then because she knew he must soon go. But she was no different from any little girl in that respect ; and she soon grew to enjov the convent-life. In a year from that time she is writing a long happy letter to .Mrs. Trist of I^hiladelphia • •' I .1111 very happy in the convent, and with reason, (or there wants nothing but the presence of my friends of America to render my situation worthy to be envied by the happiest ; I do not say kings, for, far from it, they are often more unfortunate than the lowest of their subjects. I have seen the King and Queen, but at too great a distance to judge if they are like their pictures in PhiKidclphia. We had a lovely passage in a beautiful new ship, that had made one passage before. There were only six passengers, all of whom papa knew, and a very fine sunshine all the way, with a sea that was calm as a river. . . . We landed in Kngland, where we made a very short stay. The d.iy we left it we got off at six o'clock in the evening and arrived in France at eleven the next morning. I can not say that this voyage was as agreeable as the first, though it was much shorter. It rained violently, and the sea was exceedingly rough all the time and I was almost .IS sick as the first time, when I was sick two days. The a man of influence. Little Polly lived with her sister, and we find Mr. Jefferson, while at his public duties, writing to both his daughters, show- ing all the old-time care. Of Polly, or Maria, he asks whether she sees the sun rise every day } How many pages she reads in Don Quixote? Whether she says her grammar evcrv day .•• How many hours she sews.'' Whether she continues her music.'' THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. l6- Whether she can make a pudding or cut out a beefsteak ? If she has sown spinach ? And funniest of all he wants to know if she can " set a hen " ? Poor little Poll}' ! if she had done daily all her father wished she would have been busy indeed. She however did not do it; we find from her childish letters, which are very interesting, that .^lie answers almost all of the questions in the negative. She says she has been traveling and has not had time to do as he wishes, but that she is reading Robertson's History of America, and later we do find her reading Don Qiiixoic every day and reciting English and Spanish grammar. Still later she recounts the making of one pudding. But before she got ready to " set a hen " her Aunt Eppes gave her one and some chickens too. In one letter he inquires — for Jeffer- son was a veritable John Bur- roughs at heart — what time the swallows and whip-poor- wills make their spring ap- pearance in Virginia, and Polly replies that she is too much taken up with her chickens to notice birds. The whole series of letters from the busy Secretarv of State to his daughters is the most charming reading imaginable. Bluebirds, golden-willows, lilacs, redbud and dogwood, guelder-roses and robin- redbreasts constantly appear in the notes, and he sends seeds of flowerincT-beans. This observation of nature was a laroe resource JOHN WAVLES EPPES ("JACKV" EPPES.) {From the engraving by Si. Mcmiii.) 1 64 '^J"- l-iMIl.y OF niOMAS JKJ'IERSON. in liis later years. 1 le was a gardening, farming statesman, keep- ing a diary of tlie arri\al of plants and birds, setting out cedars to tempt the mocking-birds to build around Monticello, and corre- sponding with another farmer-President, George Washington, whom he frequently visited at Mount Vernon. He strove wisely to develop the same delight in out-of-duors life in his daughters, though he does not neglect either to instruct them minutely by letter as to the newest fashion of tying a veil in New York and Philadelphia. In i-gi he came home and carried away the little Polly to Philadelphia to live. They stopped on the way to visit at Mount Vernon, and Mrs. Washington took possession of the shv little beauty and kept her until she went on to Philadelphia herself. Her father writes that she i> " particularlv happy " with mis- chievous Nellie Cu>tis. In Philadelphia she was a great favorite in the Presidential circle, much beloved by Mrs. Washington, and receiving charming attentions ixoxw her old friend, the \'ice- President's wife, Mrs. John Adams. Jackv Kppes was there too, studying hard at law and politics. The house had pleasant grounds, and she and her father lived " under the trees." Mr. Jefferson writes to a friend that he never goes " into the house but at the hours of bed"; they breakfasted, dined, wrote and read and held receptions on the grass under the tall plane-trees. When not at Philadelphia she spent her time between her sister Martha and her aunt Mrs. Eppes. You will remember that when the ship carried "little Poll " away from her native shore it was this aunt and her cousin Jacky Eppes for whom she grieved especially; and when she was married, in October. 1797. it was the dear little cousin Jack who became her husband and who was THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 165 remarkably devoted to her always. Her father, then Vice-Presi- dent, had received the announcement of the engagement "with inexpressible pleasure" — he would have chosen Jacky Eppes for his little Polly if he " had had the whole earth free to choose from." In 1 80 1 Mr. Jefferson was declared elected President, and he moved into the barren, draughty, barn-like White House at Washington, in whose unfin- ished rooms Mrs. Abigail Adams had spent the previous winter subject to various hard- ships. It had been a bitter cam- paign, and Mr. Jefferson would have preferred the quiet of Mnnticello and his studies, rather than the duties of the E.xecutive Mansion. He had been declared by his opponents a foreigner in his tastes, un- American, un-patriotic, a French infidel. This latter designation particularly embittered New Englanders against him. Some even went so far as to believe that if he should be elected, Sunday would no longer be observed, and that churches would be closed throughout the country. The " Great Cheese," presented to him shortly after his inauguration, was a tribute sent by that section of the New Englanders who had faith in him. It came from the Berkshire hills of Massachusetts. Upon his election, Elder Leland, of Cheshire, who had preached sturdy electioneering sermons in the pulpit, proposed to his flock SILVER PLATE KELONCINC. Tl) I'HOMAS JEFFER- SON, NOW OWNED IIY T. JEFFERSON COOLIDGE. ,56 TJIK lAMIIV t)F J/JO.)f.lS / /://■/■: A SON. that they shcnild celebrate tlie victt)ry by making fur the new Presi- dent the biggest cheese the world had ever seen. Dr. Cutler, a Member of Congress at that time, thus describes the affair: " Kvcry n«.-in and woman who uwnctl a cow was lo yivc (or lbi> chetsc all thr milk yitldcil on a ccrl.iin clay — only no ^r-./r/vi/ .iTc must conlribulc a drop. A huKC tidcr-prc.ss was fitttd up to m.Tkt' il in, and on the appointed day the whole county turned out with pails and lulls of curd, the girls and women in their best gowns and riblKiiis, and the men in their Sund.iy coats and clean shirt-collars, 'rhe chee.se was put to press with prayer and hymn singing and great solemnity. When it w'.vs well dried it weighed si.\tecn hundred pounds. It was placed on a sleigh, and KIder l.cl.ind drove with it all the way to Washington. It w.ts a journey of three weeks. .MI the country had heard of the lii^ chiesu, and came out to look at it as the lildet drove along." .\t the first Levee held Ijy President Jefferson, the big Massa- chusetts cheese was on siK)W. Tlie following Sunday " Leiand, the cheese-monger," preached before the two Houses of Congre.ss from the te.\t, '^ Attd behold a gnaUr than Solomon is /un\" "much to tlie adulation of the President," it is said, " though shame and laughter appeared on the faces of the representatives and senators." In 1805 a portion of the " mammoth cheese " was still in exist- ence, and was served at a Levee, along with cake and a great urn of hot punch. During his administration his sons-in-law, Mr. Randolph and Mr. Lppes, were both Members of Congress, but Mesdames Patsv and Polly spent little time in Washingtt^i, Mrs. Dollv Madison, the wife of the .Secretary of State, presiding at the .State dinners. In the winters of 1S02-3 both sisters were at the \\'hit( I louse some time and went somewhat into society. During their stay at the White House, Mrs. Randolph's tldest daughter, .Anne, was deemed old enough to appear at a ball in Washington. This she did with some companions under the THE FAAflLY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 167 chaperonage of Mrs. Madison ; and Mrs. Ellen Harrison, a orand- daughtcrof Mrs. Randolph, has related for us, an amusing incident of her fair .Vunt Anne's first evening in society. Brought up among the mountains of Virginia, the young girl had not before been in "grande toilette." Mrs. Randolph, seeing a lovely fair- haired girl entering the room, turned to Mrs. Cutts, Mrs. Madison's sister, to know who she was. Mrs. Cutts exclaimed, "Heavens! woman, don't you know your own child.''" Mrs. Randoljjh, it need not be added, was near-sighted. Mrs. Eppes, unlike most beautiful women, was timid and reserved among strangers. It is said that wlien she entered a room all eyes were turned to her, all admired her beauty, but that before they left a reception, it was Mrs. Randolph, who was much plainer, that held the attention with her conversation and her queenly manners. Each earnestly wisln-d to be like the other. Maria believed that Martha possessed knowledge of every kind, and Martha considered no woman in the world so beautiful as her sister. There is no portrait of Mrs. Eppes. But tradition has but one voice about dear little Pollv, and that is that slie was supremely beautiful with her regular features and glorious head of auburn hair. This sunny auburn hair was so beautiful that people who remembered nothing else of her still retained that in memory. Mrs. Randolph, in culture, would have graced any court of Europe, and she enjoyed her life at the White House — it was her first glimpse of the great world since she had shared in the delights of the brilliant scenes at the Court of Louis xvi. She presided with ease, and White House society in her time was much less formal than under the rule of Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Adams. She however was very domestic, and of her twelve children she ,68 '^'^H-'- lAMIl.V OF THOMAS J KJlfiRSON. educated six daughters herself; these girls never went to any other school. I'or some years Maria i^rew steadily delicate in healtli ; she died in Ajiril, 1S04, leaving a boy named Francis, and having lost a little Maria. Poor little Polly! She always had seemed like a beautiful, diftidenl child, so modest, so retiring. I ler loss was a groat grief to her father and one from which he never fully recov- ered. That he might be less lonely, during the winters of 1805-6, Mrs. Randolph resided in the M.vecutive mansion and here was born her second son, James Madison Randol])h. who was the first child born in the White House. THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 169 CHAPTER III. AT MONTICELLO. B' lUT the happy times for all were at Monticello, where the President, the most delightful of grandfathers, paid long visits. Whenever he came, it was a signal for the Edgehill family to move up to remain during his sojourn. One and an- other of these grandchildren were with him in Washington sometimes, but the free joyous life at Monticello was best. The place had been twenty-five years in the building. Parton says: THE MARIE ANTOINETTE VASE. {Owned by the late Mrs. Meiktehatiiy Washington, D. C.) " At that time there was not an artistic edifice in the whole of North America. Strange to say, this Virginia planter, who had never seen a beautiful house of any kind, was an enthusiastic architect, and he was determined to build a house which an architect would approve. His bricks had to be made on his own estate and under his own direction. The timber was felled and hewn by his own slaves ; the nails were wrought in his own little nailery, wherein for thirty years he kept from four to ten of his men making nails for the county. The wheel-barrows and wagons were made on the estate. When the house was getting ready for the sashes, he had to send to London for them, and a portion of the sashes were detained there a whole month to let the putty harden. Nearly all the furniture was made by his own slaves from drawings executed by himself. The plan of the lawns, shrubbery and gardens, as well as the paths through the woods, were all the re- sult of his own knowledge and taste." Monticello means " little mountain." The mansion with its great piazzas stood on a summit; and wild breezes and wide sweeps of vision do promote joy even in a child. It was an inex- I JO ilH'- JAM J J. y OF THOMAS J RIFKK SOX. haustiblc playground, with the forest at the back, the long pavil- ions, the oriental freedom of the strolls and runs on the roofs, the terraces and lawns where President Jefferson set the children at races after tea, giving the smallest "a good start " by some yards and then — "one, two, three — go!" dropping his white handker- chief; the prize being three figs. There were games in the great hall, and there was school in the magnificent billiard-room — the " ball-room " so called, although it was never thus used or thus designated in the time of the JefTersons; neither was it used for billiards; because before its completion a certain gentleman of means in Virginia had become such an inveterate billiard-player that he was losing all his fortune and a law was passed making it unlawful to play, and Mr. Jefferson did not have the tables put up, but converted it into a schoolroom for the children. His grandchildren were, if possible, e\en more devotedly attached to Mr. Jefferson than his daughters, both of whom con- sidered their father's love " the great good of their lives;" the beautiful Mrs. l-!|)pes passionately longed for talent that she might " become a more suitable companion for her father." These little people, in turn, from first to last flooded his life with sunshine. 1 le writes of one of them : "dear little Anne, with whom even Soc- rates might ride on a stick without being ridiculous; " and as fast as they grow old enough to hold the pen he inveigles them all, one after another, into the most charming correspondence; time-worn and yellow, many of these childish letters still exist — folded and scaled without envelopes, quaintly addressed across the backs to " President Jefferson," and bearing written postmarks. There is reproduced here a letter from a certain little Cornelia among them, with the grandfather's reply. THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 171 He liked to devise all manner of conveniences for the Monti- cello house and its flock of little people — odd cupboards and desks and closets. He planned the little doll-house shown here ; he drew the design and one of the negro carpenters built it. It was made for one of Mrs. Randolph's daughters, the little Septimia — iMONTICELLO, THE HUME OK l'KEblUl-.iN 1 JEl'l- EKSON. named " Septimia" because she was the seventh cliild. I saw it the other day in Washington, in the possession of its first owner, a beautiful old lady now, who loves to dwell upon her childish days at Monticello.* In this cabinet she used to keep all her dolls, their furniture and their clothes, and many playthings. Her children and grandchildren have long since disposed of those articles, but * Mrs. Septimia Jefferson Randolph Meikleliam died after the above was written — in September, 1S87. TUl: J- AM II. y or THOMAS JEJ-FEKSOy. the cabinet still stands in her parlor. On the top shelf are the chessmen her Cirandfather Jefferson used for many years. In the right-hand corner of the lower shelf, you will see a wooden jar whose cover has a little round knob; this once contained a small cut-j^lass bottle which held a half-pint of attar of roses — a present to Mr. Jefferson from the Hey of .\Igiers, and valued in this country at six hundred dollars. The great quaint vase, too, is in the same parlor; it belonged many years ago to Marie Antoinette, and after her execution it was brought to this country to a relative who gave it to the Jefferson family. To encourage his grandchildren to love flowers President Jef- ferson used to give the tulip and iiyacinth bulbs queer names, and many of tliem possessed queer names from the florists. While he was planting them he would formally introduce them to his little helpers and these names , were also attached to little sticks set in the beds. All this of course interested them, and it was amusing to hear the little ones call- i ng, " Come, G r a n d p a ! come ! Marcus .Aurelius has his head out of ground." " The Queen of the .Ama- zons is coming u]>!" Mr. Jefferson was trulvfond of flowers, and on his final re- turn to Monticello in iSog, having served eight years fJio.r CroLneutapa exoude my fa/Zymtcna fer it cd Yne /t^c/f M= =Z^c/ cire.r wrolt thtTE OyTe a. nnjL^wer ^ iim& /^ a / {mow, mc M^^ vffTi m THE FAMIL V OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. wDlA, u7 a.M, iJu cJut =. 71 as President, his first worlc was among his flower-beds. All branches of natural science were of interest to Mr. Jefferson. His tastes got this bent in his college days at William and Mary. He used to declare that mathematics was the pain of his life. Whatever he was interested in became a "passion." During his res- idence in France he kept four colleges in his native country informed of current discoveries and inventions in Europe, fie sent over home, from Paris, at an im- mense expense, for the bones and skins of moose and caribou to convince the French savants that America was not a land of pigmies, and that the Cau- casian race was not likely to deteriorate upon the soil of the New World. He had the horns of every speci- L^ dee y^u. vi^y ?nu(fi FAC-SIMILE LETTER BY PRESIDENT JEFFERSON'S LITTLE CHANDCHILD, CORNELIA. Crry-jj-e/yH^ Li\Ai\-an^ 4Jnt/t^A yKv*»v;«7 a>» J/ /y\^t,*»^\A~. ^~]^;Cti r- \^^JLjLyiKi- lA^ffl'.'^^ ^ ♦n*tV< u^-t/»-»^Z&E^ Oe/^^^ <-*<- t-*«^^ C*tun<>*-i^^^ He^vrnLji^ ^tjiyt\XLjLttj3 owrCJ ■t^.dxj /^-r #n«- ^n^ry-f wiVrvirw^ ; A*^»^ FAC-MMIil. Ill UK IIV IKhalDLM JKll tkSO.N ; KKl'l.Y lu l.hirhk UN I'RKl KI...N(; I'AUt. SEI'IIMIA KAN-noi.I'H (MRS. MEI KLEHA.M.) / tlic painting by Edward May; in tile possession of the Misses Meiklelmm.) THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. i-jj men of American deer in the great hall at Monticello, together with the bones of a mammoth. When he removed to Philadelphia to take hib place as Vice-President, in the Adams administration, he transported thither the skeleton of a giant edentate which had been dug up in Virginia, to present to the Philosophical Society; the creature was named for him : Megalonyx Jeffcrsonii. Doubt- less his daughters were rejoiced to see the bones depart from Monticello. But he never lost his interest in fossils, and at one time he had over three hundred in the White House, storing them in some of the large unfurnished rooms. He sent many of these collections, afterward, to various scientific societies in the Old World. As his granddaugliters grew into young ladyhood he still planned pleasures for them ; from the grandfather came the beau- tiful saddles and bridles (all Virginia girls were good horsewomen), the watches — "my Bible came from him, my Shakespeare, my first writing-table, my handsome writing-desk, my first Leghorn hat, my first silk dress," writes his grandchild Ellen (Mrs.Coolidge). Mr. Jefferson himself, like Washington, was fond of horses, handsome equipages and handsome dress, despite what has been said of his " republican simplicity." He may have ridden horse- back up to the Capitol for his inauguration, as goes the popular myth, but he meant to have had a fine coach-and-four for the occa- sion — only Jacky Eppes did not get to Washington with them in season. He may sometimes have been seen carelessly attired, but often he flashes out, in contemporaneous record, in his white coat, scarlet breeches and vest and white silk hose, fit to figure on a Watteau fan. His manner had a touch of French ])er- suasiveness. In person he was tall and flexible, with a kindly blue 178 -////•. I'AMII.y Ol TIIO.\fAS lEI-FF.RSOiX. eye, reddish fine soft hair, fair Hushed complexion, and a nmbile cast of feat- ure. Mrs. Kaiulolph had ideas of her own aljout the education of girls. She insisted that her daughters should learn fearlessness. She never ,^ y*"- l.lrllK I'KllM MKS. KAMoJl.l'K I) III IIMC.IITKR SKITI.MIA (MRS. Ml IKI hll\M.) • spoke harshly to them, !• .^ cc^*-- "z^-^ ;>:^ . /.i— w ^ />>~w| ^^^^ .-illowed any one else 1****" ^ ■ ^ . 1 ■ ^> ■-< . - ^ "^ Ex.^ t^/^'^ '■"f-A'^^C n/f to do so. She iieard their . :?.^ .«< , ^^ t> ^ 1^^:;L lessons her.self and taught ^ ^ ti c-c^ >/"»^ "^ *^ ^"-^''^ them to love music not .so ^ -« ^ A.- *-^ ■**••' ""^ """^"^ much as an accomi)lish- ment as a resource of en- • tertaiiiment in solitude ; she alwavs sang and THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 179 played to them at twilight. She daily talked French with them, and gave them her own broad views of historical reading. Now Septimia, the little " seventh child," was rather different from the others; at any rate she did not learn as easily. She never could be taught not to be afraid of spiders, and she had a great dislike to French as a study, in fact she never mastered it as a child. She liked better to chase through the hall with the President of the United States to catch her, and to snarl and tumble his locks with her little side-combs. But within the last few years she has taken up the language with the aid of a dictionary over a hundred years old, laugh- ing at the idea of waitino- sixty years and then doing '' ;'''' the thing her mother wished her to do. She was the only daughter whom Mrs. Ra.xlolph did not herself educate. When a little girl spending the winter in Boston, she per- suaded her mother to allow her to go to school, but gained her permission only on condition that if she "^H -V DOLL-HOUSE. {Dcaigited by President Jefferson for his tittle g;randdiiugliter Se^tiniin—Mrs. .■\fei/.-leliajn.) iSo '^^1''- J'AMll.y Oh THOMAS J KFJ-I'.KSOy. began she should CDiUinue during their stay. She became a favor- ite with her teacher and they have corresponded ever since tliat time, although the pupil is seventy-three and the teacher ninety- nine. Says Mrs. Harrison (the daughter of Thomas Jefferson Ran- dolph): " My aiiiUs, except Mrs. Mcikltham, never IlicI .t governess or went to a regular school. My grandinother, with all the duties of mother, mistress and hostess, found time to teach them, and aid materially in the education of a family of Governor Randolph's nieces who lived in the neigh- Ixtrhood. She had the h.ippy faculty of inspiring them with such a thirst for information that they never lost an opportunitv for self-culture, and were highly cultivated women. \ irginia, Mrs. N. 1'. TrisI, dying at eightv, congratulated herself the year before her death that she could at last read Don Qui.\ole in the original I She began the study of Spanish when she was the mother of three children. Their moderate income entailed on them labors which were often burthcnsome, but amidst them all, there was a regular system of intellectual culture kept up." Possibly none of Martha Jefferson's cliildren came so near being an "own cliikl' to Mr. Jefferson as his namesake, Thomas Jefferson Randolph. Me was Martha's oldest son. He was his grandfather's delight in youth and, as Jefferson expressed it, the "staff of his old age. ' His daughter. Miss .Sarah Randolph, says : " At Madi-son's first inauguration he was a laident Jefferson and himself were really tho.se of father and eldest son. After the President's death he was the head of the family, endeavoring to make every one feci that Kdgehill (his home) was as nearly Monticello as it could be T. JKFFKRSON RANDOLPH. {From aji old daguerreotype.) THE FAMIL Y OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 183 made by him. He was his grandfather's executor. President Jefferson's will is still preserved. Says a Washington paper : " Among the old records stored away in the vault at the District building is a copy of the will of Thomas Jefferson, filed in the archives of the District years ago, so long ago that no one con- nected with the District government to-day knows the purpose for which it was placed on record there. This old document is dated March 16, 1S26. It bequeaths to his grandson, Francis Eppes, EDGEHILL, THE HOME OF T. JEFFERSON RANDOLPH. lands at Poplar P'orest, and subjects all his other property first to the payment of the debts of the deceased. In consideration of the insolvent state of the affairs of his son-in-law, Thomas Mann Randolph, he leaves the residue of his property in trust for his daughter, Martha Randolph, to be- come hers absolutely at the death of Thomas Mann Randolph. This course, the will explains, is taken to secure the property against the claims of Mr. Randolph's creditors. A codicil attached on the following day recommended to his daughter, Martha Randolph, the maintenance and care of his well-beloved sister, Annie .Scott Marks, gave to his friend, James Madison, of Montpelier, his gold- mounted walking stick of animal horn, 'as a token of the cordial and affectionate friendship which for nearly now an half century has united us in the same principles and pursuits of what we have deemed for the greatest good of our country.' He gave to the University of Virginia such books in his library as the university had not already copies of, and the remainder to his two grandsons-in-law, Nicholas P. Trist and Joseph Coolidge. To his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph, he gave his silver watch in preference to his good one because of its superior e.xcellence, 1 84 TlIK lAMll.y OI- THOMAS JEJ-IRRSOX. uiul also all hLs literary papers. lie proviilcd also for llic piircliasc nf a gold walcli for each of liLs (•ramlsons. ■" I give,' continues the will, • to my good, affecliunalc and faithful servant, Kurwell, his free- dom and the sum of 5jOO to liuy necessaries to commence his tr.-ide of painter and glazier, or to use otherwise as he pleases. I also give to my good servant. s, John llennings and Joe Kevsct, their freedom at the end of one year after my death ; and to each of them respectively all the tools of their respective shops or callings, and it is my will that a comfortable log house be built for each of the three servants so emancipated on some part of my lands, convenient to thcni with respect to the residence of their wives and to Charlottesville and the university, where thcv will be mostly employed, and reasonably convenient also to the interests of the proprietor of the lands, of which houses I give the use of one, with a curtilage of an acre to each during his life or personal occupa- tion thereof. I give also to John llennings the .services of his two apprentices, Madison and Eston llennings, until their respective ages of twenty-one years, at which period respectively I give them their freedom. And 1 hundily and earnestly request of the legislature of Virginia a con- tirniatiun of the bequest of freedom to these two servants, with pcr- -^if" -"^g^ rs mission to remain in this .state where their families and connections - ^ ~^'' '='■'* -^ '-^ arc, as an .idditional instance of the favor of which I have received so many other manifestations in the course of my life, and for which 1 now give them my last solemn and dutiful thanks.' " The will bears a certificate showing that August 7, t.S;6, it was proved in the Court of Albemarle County, Virginia, and ordered to be recorded." Martha K'ffcrson was much at Edgchill after President Jefferson's death, and j^rand- daughters of hers h"ve there still. In the winter, when the trees are stripped of their leaves, a glimmer is seen of the white columns of the portico at Monticcllo, which is about two miles distant across country. The de- ;kkkkkson's < ank. parture from Monticello was almost insujjport- CMT ,.,rri,j i,y j,/rrr,»„ „«j ablc to Mrs. Randolph. On a bit of paper in If/I l-r «•;// 10 I'midrHt M.uli- u,H.w*..u nu.nf rrtHrm,^ ,1 u< onc of hcr iiotc'-books. and supposed to have iJu JtJfrrtoH /,tmi/r : Ikt /v,/r nofh^rK. x.^. m f^.,r,si,-H bccn writtcii after the loss of her home, •/ Mr. r JiffrrtoH CMliJgt, HoH0H) were found these pathetic words : " There PRESIDENT JEFP-ER.S(JN. (F,-o,„ tlu profile /.ortr.ut by GilLcrt Stuart. Tl.is fortrait ,i thought by the Jeffcrso,, fa.nih to sho,v as „o otiur does the l.ea„ty a,..l foUe of his head. Inpossessto,, .,/ Mr. T.Jefferson Coolidge, 'sosto,,.) THE FAMILY OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 187 IS a lime in Jmman suffering when succeeding soi'roivs arc but like sncnv falling on an iceberg^ She had decided for the support of herself and family to open a school for young ladies ; but before her plans were perfected the States of North Carolina and Louisiana each gave her ten thou- sand dollars. One of her sons received a civil appointment and she with the unmarried members of her family moved to Washing- ton in 1829; but each year she visited alternately at Edgehill and with her daughter, Mrs. Coolidge (Ellen), in Boston. She died at the age of sixty-five. Little was done by President Jefferson for his own personal emolument. He no doubt took his share of happiness as life passed, but the prosperity and development of his country dwelt uppermost in his mind. He felt that the best material wealth for America lay in the direction of a mi.xed agriculture, and he sought in all ways to acclimatize good grains, good fruits and the best breeds of domestic animals. Mr. Parton relates many interest- ing incidents illustrating his devotion to this idea : " When he was Minister to France he made an extensive tour in the southern parts of Europe, observing closely and recording minutely methods of culture, the systems of land tenure, the agricultural implements, the habits of the people and their condition in the various prov- inces." On this same tour, he " had infinite difficulty in procuring some of the Piedmont rice unhulled.the best in the world, the seed of which it was unlawful to export. After buying some sacks of the see