“The Sight of the Sun Setting full orbut and another rising tho less Splendid, was a novelty.” Thus John Adams described a pivotal moment in the nation’s history—the official shift from the first to the second presidential administrations. Questions abounded about xxi whether the republic could withstand the executive transition or whether extreme partisanship would irreparably divide the union. At the heart of the matter was the deterioration of Franco-American relations—the dominant issue of the Adams presidency. John was committed to a peaceful resolution with France “provided that no Violation of Faith, no Stain upon Honour is exacted,” he reported to John Quincy, “but if Infidelity, Dishonour, or too much humiliation is demanded, France shall do as she pleases and take her own course. America is not Scared.” The possibility of war was already on the horizon in the spring of 1797. In retaliation for the Jay Treaty, which France believed unfairly advantaged Anglo-American commercial relations, France increasingly targeted American maritime commerce and refused to receive Charles Cotesworth Pinckney as U.S. minister. Many, including Thomas Boylston, believed these actions were intended to engage the United States in war, and tensions at home ran high. John attempted to navigate a middle course, and the addresses of his first year in office repeatedly attest to a dual message of diplomacy and defense. On learning of Pinckney’s expulsion, he convened Congress in May to announce his intention “to make one trial more at accomodation with France,” but he also recommended that Congress enact defensive measures, including the establishment of a navy and the arming of merchant vessels. And in a move that drew sharp criticism from the opposition, he redirected the diplomatic mission of John Quincy from Portugal to Prussia, asking his son “to continue your Practice of writing freely to me, and cautiously to the office of State.” Wary of the High Federalists in his cabinet and resolute in the belief that his middle path was the correct one, John looked to his family for reliable information and advice.1

The commission to France comprised three special envoys—Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, John Marshall, and Elbridge Gerry—all of whom were at Paris by early October. During the months between their appointment and arrival, however, France underwent another radical shift in leadership. On 4 September (An. V, 18 fructidor) a majority of the French Directory, with military backing, staged a coup d’état that ousted conservative members of the Directory and legislative councils. The new government further consolidated its control through a series of laws that restricted freedom of the press and nullified recent elections. John Quincy characterized the events as “undisguised and unblushing” violations of the xxii republican and constitutional values the instigators claimed to be protecting, and he doubted the willingness of the new government to embrace Franco-American negotiations. “For any reconciliation worth having there must be a favourable and an honest temper on both sides.— My hopes are but small,” he reported to Abigail.2

Thus from the outset of their mission, the U.S. envoys faced a Directory prone to war and a foreign ministry inclined to delay negotiations. The French foreign minister, Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, refused to open formal negotiations, instead using unofficial channels—the agents that became known as X, Y, and Z—to demand a personal payment as the basis of negotiations, a U.S. loan to France, and an apology for comments contained in the president’s 16 May 1797 address to Congress. The envoys refused these conditions and all attempts to be officially received by Talleyrand were rebuffed. In mid-April 1798 Marshall and Pinckney left Paris to return to the United States. Gerry, more sympathetic to the French cause than his fellow commissioners, remained behind.

In the United States months passed with only “Vague and contradictory accounts” surfacing about the mission, all the while news of France’s territorial conquests and treatment of neutral European states heightened anxieties. A new decree authorizing French attacks on any vessel carrying British goods made “a general Wreck” of American commerce, and still Congress enacted few of the defensive measures that John again recommended in his address at the opening of the session in November 1797. The failure to pass legislation, however, did not translate into a calm session. Partisan vitriol was on full display in long and fruitless debates, and it erupted into violence in January 1798 when a physical altercation occurred on the floor of the House of Representatives between Matthew Lyon and Roger Griswold.3

Finally in March 1798 the first dispatches were received, exhibiting what Abigail described as “a picture of National Degradation and unparalled corruption.” Concerned for the safety of the American envoys, John initially chose to keep the contents of the dispatches confidential. He addressed Congress on 19 March to report the mission’s failure and to again urge that provisions be made for American defense; he also removed the restriction preventing merchant vessels from arming. The speech was condemned by the opposition as a call for war, and both Congress and the public clamored for xxiii more information. When John complied in early April, the effect was immediate. “The Jacobins in senate & House were struck dumb,” and “the cementing of Hearts, and the Union of mind” turned public opinion against France and, briefly, in support of John Adams.4

“You and I are now entering on a new Scene, which will be the most difficult, and least agreable of any in our Lives.— I hope the burthen will be lighter to both of Us, when We come together.” Although John initially suggested that Abigail wait until the fall to join him in Philadelphia, the magnitude of his presidential duties and the arrival of news from France changed his mind. “I never wanted your Advice & assistance more in my Life,” he declared, and he repeatedly urged Abigail “to loose not a moments time … that you may take off from me every Care of Life but that of my public Duty, assist me with your Councils, and console me with your Conversation.” In the charged political atmosphere John needed his greatest ally. For Abigail, leaving Quincy was filled with anxiety and anguish. In addition to her responsibility for making adequate arrangements for the care of the Adamses’ properties and tenants, as well as for organizing her own domestic and travel arrangements, Abigail’s cares were compounded by the death of John’s mother, Susanna Boylston Adams Hall, followed in quick succession by that of her young niece Mary Smith. For once, Abigail looked forward to leaving Quincy, “where every scene and object wears a gloom, or looks so to me.” Her escape to Philadelphia, however, carried its own worries, not only for John and his public duties but also about her impending role in the new venture. While en route to the federal seat, she reflected on the changes she faced: “Such appears, to me the situation in which I am placed, enviable no doubt, in the Eyes of Some, but never envy’d or coveted by me. that I may discharge my part with honour, and give satisfaction is my most earnest wish.”5

Abigail arrived in Philadelphia early in May 1797 and immediately stepped into the “ceremonious part of my Duty.” She spent several hours each day receiving company and hosted a series of dinners until she had been introduced to the cabinet secretaries and all xxiv members of Congress. In keeping with the Washingtons’ tradition, which the Adamses felt they could ill afford, she and John also welcomed foreign ministers, Congress, and a large contingent of local politicians and Philadelphia citizenry to celebrate the Fourth of July. Soon thereafter, she and John were able to return to Quincy for a brief respite. When she returned to the capital in the fall, she was more accustomed to the social responsibilities of her position, and she wrote about it less frequently, turning instead to a topic nearer to her heart—politics.6

“How is it possible for you to take your Pen & not write Politicks,” Mary Smith Cranch asked her sister. “I shall feel myself Shut out of the world if I cannot have your oppinion how it is going on.” It would have been impossible for Abigail to abstain from political commentary, and yet she recognized that her public role required a certain amount of circumspection. “Be cautious to whom you communicate my sentiments. I am not asshamed of them, but perhaps I ought not to write Them so freely,” she warned her sister Elizabeth Smith Shaw Peabody, and when frustration gave way to indignation, she worried that opinions expressed to Mary might be misinterpreted, and “as it respects the Character I hold—I will not knowingly degrade it.” Abigail’s letters to her sisters provided a much needed emotional outlet, but her letters within her broader circle of correspondents demonstrate the myriad ways she leveraged her position on John’s behalf.7

Abigail and Elizabeth Ellery Dana had long been friends and occasional correspondents, but in June 1797, shortly after John’s appointment of Francis Dana as one of the envoys to France, Abigail wrote with another motive, suggesting it was Elizabeth’s republican duty to ensure her husband’s acceptance. Just as both women had sacrificed domestic happiness for the revolutionary cause, Abigail urged Elizabeth to suppress “every personal Consideration to the Welfare of our Country.” The multiple extant drafts of this painstakingly crafted letter demonstrate Abigail’s struggle to find the appropriate balance between familiarity and formality. She hoped her personal relationship with Elizabeth would be enough to influence a political outcome that John sought. In other instances she served as a conduit between the president and those who sought political patronage. When her nephew William Smith wrote to the president xxv seeking a position, Abigail replied. She explained that he must demonstrate merit before receiving consideration, and even then he “must be sensible a more than ordinary delicacy” was required in such situations. Similar requests were sent directly to Abigail with the expectation that she would be better able to enlist the president’s support. Thus Charles Storer asked that his father be considered for the position as inspector of the excise in Massachusetts, and Ruth Hooper Dalton implored, “Under the present administration I should have hoped some thing to Mr Daltons advantage, and still flatter myself his good Friend will not forget him.” The success of both of these requests testifies not only to the efficacy of the approach but also to the influence Abigail wielded.8

Incensed by the opposition press, Abigail utilized her network of correspondents to actively shape public opinion by combatting the “incendaries who kindle Flames where ever they go.” One ally in this fight was her nephew in Washington, D.C., William Cranch, into whose “safe and honorable Hands” she entrusted her sons’ letters from Europe. She did so with the expectation that he would have excerpts accurately published in the southern press in order “to Enlighten our Countrymen in the views and intrigues of France as they respect America.” In Boston, it was her cousin William Smith who both aided and informed Abigail’s efforts. During the winter of 1798 reports surfaced claiming that John had already received dispatches from the envoys to France but was withholding them in order to spur anti-French sentiment. Smith countered these reports by publishing an excerpt of Abigail’s letter noting no dispatches had been received. When the dispatches finally did arrive, speculation was rife in Boston regarding their contents, especially the French demands. Smith assumed that some of the ubiquitous reports were true and offered his services: “If I cou’d say with certainty that they were true, it wou’d have the best effect here.” Smith recognized that if news was funneled through him, it would be seen as trustworthy given his relationship with the first family.9

Abigail may have leveraged private relationships to reinforce the political message of the administration; however, when the opposition press crossed into personal attacks on her family, she took more xxvi direct action. In the fall of 1797 the Philadelphia Aurora General Advertiser repeatedly lambasted John for the public tributes shown him while traveling between Quincy and Philadelphia. After a particularly loathsome squib, Abigail reported to her sister “all will not do.” She subsequently wrote a detailed refutation of the criticism leveled at the president, and sent it to John Fenno, the editor of the Philadelphia Gazette of the United States, who published the letter without a signature on 18 November. The following spring, when the Aurora accused John Quincy of undeservedly receiving his father’s patronage, Abigail wrote directly to the editor, Benjamin Franklin Bache, chastising the onetime schoolmate of John Quincy’s for “the Misrepresentation a Writer in your paper” had given of her son’s appointment.10

In the spring of 1797 as John Quincy Adams was making the final arrangements for taking up his new diplomatic post in Portugal, his father instead nominated him to be minister plenipotentiary to Prussia. He explained that his son’s “Talents, Sagacity and Industry” would be better applied at the northern post than the southern, but in doing so he unwittingly caused the younger Adams serious consternation. John Quincy had vowed to never hold a position under his father’s nomination, and he complained to his brother Charles that the appointment was “not an agreeable one to me, nor should it ever have taken place with my consent.” To Abigail, he reported his reluctant acceptance of the position but noted that its origin took from him “all the satisfaction which I have enjoyed hitherto in considering myself as a public Servant.” His parents thought John Quincy was overreacting. John scolded, “It is the worst founded Opinion I ever knew you conceive,” and Abigail believed her eldest son was simply being too scrupulous.11

John Quincy learned of the change in his mission while en route to London, where after a courtship of fourteen months he and Louisa Catherine Johnson were married on 26 July 1797. In a joint letter to John and Abigail written two days after the wedding, John Quincy boasted of Louisa’s able domestic qualifications. Louisa dutifully xxvii reported that her “greatest wish” was “to meet the approbation of my Husband, and family.” Upon learning of the marriage, Abigail wrote to congratulate her son and then welcomed Louisa to the family in a quintessentially Adams fashion: “Strengthen the bond of union between us my Dear Louissa by a frequent communication by Letters your observations and remarks upon the new scenes before you and the Manners and customs of Foreign Nations, will both amuse and entertain me, always however keeping in mind, your own public Character, and the Critical Times in which we Live.” With her first letter, Abigail established a model of instruction that characterized much of her early correspondence with her daughter-in-law.12

The newlyweds spent three months in London before proceeding to Berlin. Thomas Boylston, who had repeatedly written to his parents that he was “not only desirous but anxious to revisit my native land,” and whose return to the United States was keenly anticipated by both John and Abigail, nonetheless determined to continue as John Quincy’s secretary. In reporting the decision to his mother, he noted that “after full and mature consideration” he acquiesced to his brother’s “earnest desires” that he continue in the post, but he urged Abigail to find a replacement for him, “for I plainly see, that until some arrangement of this kind be made, I shall not be released.” He renewed his appeal once settled in Berlin, and both he and John Quincy asked their parents to find a successor.13

The “little family” arrived in Berlin in early November, shortly after which began John Quincy’s “severest affliction[s]” as first Louisa and then Thomas Boylston became gravely ill. “At a tavern—in a strange country—unacquainted with every human being in it, and ignorant in a great measure of the language,” John Quincy reported to his mother, “you can judge what we all suffered.” Louisa, pregnant when she left for Berlin, had a miscarriage; Thomas Boylston was felled by a throat disorder compounded by an attack of rheumatism. Both recovered and slowly became active participants in the new prospect before them.14

John Quincy’s entrée into his public business was hampered by the death of Frederick William II only days after the new minister’s xxviii arrival in Berlin. Deprived “of an Audience to deliver my credentials,” John Quincy envisioned months of idleness as he waited for a new letter of credence. Fortunately, Frederick William III dispensed with formality and agreed to recognize John Quincy based on his previous credentials, and he made his presentation at court in December 1797. His arrival took place during the height of the social season and at the outset of a new monarchy, and John Quincy found the constant social whirl taxing. “You can easily judge how heavily all this goes with my disposition,” he wrote to Abigail. More importantly, as a public servant he found his increased social calendar offered little benefit in informing his understanding of events in Europe or advancing the purpose of his presence in Prussia. Louisa made her presentation in mid-January 1798, while Thomas Boylston tried to avoid the obligation and expense of court life altogether. He succeeded until February, when he reported to Abigail that he was preparing for his presentation by having “a suit of the United States uniform to be made.” It resembled that of American naval officers, and Thomas Boylston took pleasure in the fact that “the french Minister here will look askance at it, & I hope he may, for he can’t question my right to wear it, and I want him to see how an American looks in the livery of his own Country.”15

From their new vantage point in Berlin, both John Quincy and Thomas Boylston—none of Louisa’s letters are extant for the period—continued to serve as keen but anxious observers of European affairs. “The picture which presents itself to inspection is to my view the most humiliating, that the history of man has ever furnished,” Thomas Boylston reported to his mother, and discussions of France’s territorial conquest of Europe dominated his letters to both parents. In describing the series of dependent republics established under the auspices of France, Thomas Boylston believed, “It is natural enough for an American citizen, who has witnessed the undeviating march of all these modern Revolutions effected by foreign interference, to figure to himself the possibility of a similar turn to affairs in his own Country.” He viewed one French navigational decree as a particularly loathsome demonstration of French intentions toward the United States and eloquently warned: “If such treatment of their suffering Countrymen produce no resentment, no indignation, I shall begin to believe that the syren song of Liberty, equality & xxix fraternity, has captivated all minds and prepared both governors & governed to receive a french garrison as soon as it can be made to reach the Continent— From that moment, come when it will, I have no longer a Country—”16

John Quincy reported favorably about the future of Prussia following the accession of Frederick William III: “The Prussian dominions have profited by the Peace which they have now enjoyed nearly three years, and the young king though of a military turn, has too much good sense to begin his reign by involving his People in a War.” However, he was not so sanguine about Napoleon Bonaparte, whom he believed “has already become almost too great for his masters of the french Directory.” Late in 1797 the conquering general had been named commander of France’s Army of England, and reports were rampant about an impending invasion. John Quincy accurately predicted that Napoleon would not support the invasion, however, he speculated—with uncanny prescience—that should the general achieve such a military feat, he would become “too great for a french Republic.”17

For the Adams children in the United States, life remained stationary if not always stable. Charles, the most marginal Adams in the volume, was in the spring of 1797 living “prettily but frugally” in New York City. He continued to make his way in the legal profession and was entrusted with occasional requests from his parents, including assisting John’s secretary with arrangements for a parade the president was to attend in New York City. His management of John Quincy’s financial affairs in the United States, however, continued to worry the family, and his failure to provide regular reports tried the patience of John Quincy, who urged Charles to report on “business rather more frequently than you have hitherto done.” When six months later Charles had still not responded, John Quincy implored: “I must in the most pointed manner again entreat you to shew this attention to my business. The neglect of it introduces inevitable disorder into my own arrangements, and you have lived long enough in the world to know that disorder is of itself a great xxx advance towards ruin.” But for Charles the path “towards ruin” was already well paved.18

Abigail arrived at her daughter’s home in Eastchester, New York, in May 1797 to find Nabby in a situation she described to Mary Cranch as taking “from me all appetite to food, and depresst my Spirits.” Nabby’s husband, William Stephens Smith, was “gone a journey,” not to return for another eight months as he attempted to escape his creditors and right his dismal finances. In one of only two extant letters by Nabby during this time, she hinted at the situation to John Quincy: “For thease two years past I have had so many trialls and strugles in my mind to Contend with that I only wonder that I have retained my senses.” Mostly she kept close council, “Melancholy enough,” in Abigail’s opinion, but saying “nothing unless drawn from her.” Abigail felt compelled to act. While en route to Quincy in the summer of 1797, she collected Nabby’s sons—William Steuben Smith and John Adams Smith. Her plan was to place the boys under Elizabeth and Stephen Peabody’s care at the Atkinson Academy. This she felt was necessary in order to “break them of habits which they had imbibed” through the “train of uncles and Aunts and servants to spoil them and very few examples such as I wisht to have them innured to.” On her return to Philadelphia in the fall, Abigail tried to convince Nabby to accompany her parents to the capital, and Mary Cranch suggested she come to Quincy, where the attention paid to her situation would be far less than at the federal seat. Ultimately Nabby remained in Eastchester waiting for the colonel’s return.19

When William Stephens Smith did return to New York in January 1798, he found a cold reception. Having written to the president, ostensibly to inform him of nefarious activities witnessed in Detroit, John scathingly questioned the propriety of his son-in-law’s calling into question another man’s character. “There have not been wanting Critics upon your conduct,” John chastised. To Abigail, Smith defended his actions. His letters to Nabby had all been lost in the post office. His financial situation resulted from his reliance “too much on the integrity of others,” and he could not understand why he had fallen out of favor. “From my Wifes friends, I have not xxxi received one complimentary line on the subject of my return, and I am not acquainted with any congratulations, that she may have received, indeed I doubt whether any have been made— this you will readily conceive, touches my sensibility, and perplexes my mind— perticularly, when I can look back with an unoffending heart, and review my conduct to my Wife and family for nearly 12 happy years, and no circumstance crosses my recollection wherein I failed in any of the important Duties, either of a Husband, a father, a son or a Brother.” Abigail’s letters to Smith for this period have not survived, but her worry that if Smith returned he would remove his sons from Atkinson Academy was telling.20

For a complete statement of Adams Papers editorial policy as revised in 2007, see Adams Family Correspondence, 8:xxxv–xliii. Readers may also wish to consult the descriptions of the editorial standards established at the beginning of the project in Diary and Autobiography of John Adams, 1:lii–lxii, and Adams Family Correspondence, 1:xli–xlviii. These statements document the original conception of the Adams Papers project, though significant parts of them have now been superseded.

The only major addition to the 2007 policy regards the selection for publication in the Adams Family Correspondence series of John Quincy Adams’ letters from his diplomatic posts to his father. In general, we will include those letters only when they focus substantially on family matters. If their contents revolve largely or entirely around diplomatic and political affairs, they will be reserved for consideration and likely inclusion in The Papers of John Adams or The Papers of John Quincy Adams. John Quincy’s letters to other family members—especially Abigail, to whom he often wrote at the same time as he did to his father—will continue to be published routinely in the Family Correspondence books.

The Massachusetts Historical Society continues to support the work of making Adams family materials available to scholars and xxxii the public online. Four digital resources in particular complement the Adams Family Correspondence volumes: The Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, The Diaries of John Quincy Adams: A Digital Collection, the Adams Papers Digital Edition, and the Online Adams Catalog. All of these are available through the Historical Society’s website at www.masshist.org.

The Adams Family Papers Electronic Archive contains images and text files of all of the correspondence between John and Abigail Adams owned by the Massachusetts Historical Society as well as John Adams’ Diaries and Autobiography. The files are fully text searchable and can also be browsed by date.

The Diaries of John Quincy Adams Digital Collection provides digital images of John Quincy Adams’ entire 51-volume Diary, which he composed over nearly seventy years. The images can be searched by date or browsed by diary volume.

The Adams Papers Digital Edition, a project cosponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities, Harvard University Press, and the Massachusetts Historical Society, offers searchable text files for 36 of the Adams Papers volumes published prior to 2011 (excluding the Portraits volumes). There is a single consolidated index for volumes published through 2006, while the indexes for more recent volumes appear separately. This digital edition is designed not to replace the letterpress edition but rather to complement it by providing greater access to a wealth of Adams material.

The Online Adams Catalog represents a fully searchable electronic database of all known Adams documents, dating primarily from the 1760s to 1889, at the Massachusetts Historical Society and other public and private repositories. The digital conversion—based on the original Adams Papers control file begun in the 1950s and steadily updated since that time—was supported by the National Historical Publications and Records Commission and the Massachusetts Historical Society, and was initiated with Packard Humanities Institute funds in 2009. The catalog allows public online access to a database of over 110,000 records, with some 30,000 cross-reference links to online, printed, and microfilm editions of the items, or to websites of the holding repositories. Each record contains information on a document’s author, recipient, and date and on the location of the original, if known.

The letters in volume 12 of the Adams Family Correspondence may be supplemented with material from the same time period included in John Quincy Adams’ Diary available online (as described above) xxxiii and in the letters of John Adams and John Quincy Adams published, respectively, in The Works of John Adams, edited by Charles Francis Adams, 8:530–572, and Writings of John Quincy Adams, edited by Worthington Chauncey Ford, 2:132–282. Also of interest may be the Diary and Autobiographical Writings of Louisa Catherine Adams, edited by Judith S. Graham and Beth Luey, 1:1–83, and the unpublished Diary that Thomas Boylston Adams kept while in Europe, which is available on the Adams Papers microfilm. Future volumes of the Papers of John Adams will provide considerably more coverage of John’s public activities during these years.

The correspondence printed in this volume captures the Adams family and the nation at moments of transition. The overlap offers unique insights into late eighteenth-century American and European life. Whether it is John’s or Abigail’s comments on the changing American political scene or their sons’ descriptions of the tumultuous European landscape, the Adamses candidly discussed the world around them. Moving beyond the external events that shaped the family’s experiences, the letters demonstrate a commitment to maintaining internal connections among family, friends, and community. A rich tapestry of domestic life and social relationships unfolds, informing our understanding not only of the family but also of the world in which they lived.