Adams Family Correspondence, volume 12

ix

Descriptive List of Illustrations

1. THOMAS BOYLSTON ADAMS’ FRENCH PASSPORT, 8 MAY 1797 (AN. V, 19 FLORÉAL)	109[unavailable]
In June 1796 Thomas Boylston Adams informed Abigail Adams of his “design … to pass a short time in Paris” before returning to the United States. It was ten months before he realized the first part of his plan. He departed The Hague on 16 April 1797 and arrived in Paris six days later. During the month he toured the French capital, Thomas Boylston “endeavored to gain a sight of every thing worth a travellers curiosity,” as he reported in a 24 July letter to his mother, where he named more than twenty of the sites he had visited (below).
His Paris residence was “the Hotel des Etrangers Rue Vivienne No 6,” from which he reported to John Quincy Adams on 26 April that as required by one of the many laws governing visitors in France he had “sent to the Directorie the necessary petition to obtain leave of residence for a short time” (below). On 8 May he further reported that although he had not yet been granted “formal permission to remain” in Paris, he had “obtained a passport this day from the Minister of Police to return, and as it is valid for two decades only, you may calculate pretty nearly the time I shall set out” (below). By order of an 8 January 1797 decree (An. V, 19 nivôse), Americans were required to obtain passports endorsed by the minister of police, Charles Cochon de Lapparent. Lapparent (1749–1825) had held the position since April 1796, and it is his signature and the seal of his office that appear on the passport printed here, the 185th passport issued under the 19 nivôse decree. Near the top left of the document is an embossed stamp recording a payment of ten francs, a requirement under a subsequent decree of 24 April 1797 (An. V, 5 floréal) regarding stamp duties. The passport identifies Thomas Boylston as a “Citoyen-Américain”; 24 years old; five feet, three inches tall; with chestnut hair, black eyes, a long nose, and an ordinary forehead. It also notes his intention to return to The Hague via Brussels. The reverse bears the signature of the police commissioner at Valenciennes, France, through which Thomas Boylston passed on 20 May before arriving at The Hague on 26 May (vol. 11:326; D/JQA/24, 16 April, 26 May, APM Reel 27; Hoefer, Nouv. biog. générale ; J. B. Duvergier, Collection complète des x lois, décrets, ordonnances, règlements, avis du Conseil d’Etat, 30 vols., Paris, 1834–1838, 9:347).
From the original in the Adams Family Papers. Collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
2, 3. ANNA (NANCY) GREENLEAF AND WILLIAM CRANCH, CA. 1795	177[unavailable]
By the summer of 1797 William Cranch and Anna (Nancy) Greenleaf Cranch were living in Washington, D.C., with their two sons— William Greenleaf, who was eighteen months, and the infant Richard, who was born on 26 June. William was at a crossroads professionally after the collapse of the land speculation firm Morris, Nicholson, & Greenleaf left him financially distressed. As he considered potential career opportunities, he received both advice and offers of assistance from the Adamses, and it was during the summer of 1797 that he began a regular correspondence with Abigail that lasted the remainder of John’s presidency. William became a reliable conduit of information about the future federal capital, and he served as an important ally in Abigail’s attempts to counter the opposition press. Meanwhile, Nancy was occupied with the cares of a young family and worry about the imprisonment of her brother, James Greenleaf, for debt, and the resulting financial impact on her parents and siblings (AA to William Cranch, 5 July and 15 Nov., and note 2; William Cranch to AA, 5 Aug., 21 Nov., all below).
These facing portraits by an unknown artist show the young couple in three-quarter view and possibly date to their 6 April 1795 wedding. The present location of the originals is unknown, and the portraits are reproduced here from Leonora Cranch Scott, The Life and Letters of Christopher Pearse Cranch, Boston, 1917, plate following p. 6 (vol. 10:402, 11:xvi; Greenleaf, Greenleaf Family , p. 222).
Collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
4. WILLIAM BLOUNT, CA. 1790	191[unavailable]
“When shall we cease to have Judas’s? here is a diabolical plot disclosed,” Abigail Adams wrote to Mary Smith Cranch on 6 July 1797 (below) as news spread in Philadelphia of a conspiracy involving Tennessee senator William Blount. Previously the territorial governor of the Southwest Territory as well as the superintendent of Indian affairs there, Blount (1749–1800) was deeply involved in land speculation in the territory. Nearly bankrupted by the collapse of western land values following the October 1796 Anglo-Spanish declaration of war, Blount attempted to protect his land holdings from creditors by joining a conspiracy whereby the Creek and Cherokee Nations would assist the British in conquering West Florida and securing navigation of the Mississippi River. In an April 1797 letter to a Cherokee interpreter named James Carey, Blount described himself as “the head of the business on the part of the British” and reported that the plan would be attempted in the fall and that “if the Indians act their part, I have no doubt but it will succeed.” News of the plot and Blount’s involvement in it surfaced in xi Philadelphia on 20 June. John Adams consulted with the attorney general, Charles Lee, who reported that the letter was “evidence of a crime” and made Blount subject to impeachment by the Senate. The president then submitted Blount’s letter to Congress on 3 July. Four days later the House of Representatives voted to impeach Blount; on 8 July the Senate voted for his expulsion. The House subsequently appointed a committee to prepare articles of impeachment, and its findings were reported on 4 December 1797. It was not until 17 December 1798, however, that Blount’s trial began. Ultimately, the case was dismissed after the Senate on 11 January 1799 voted fourteen to eleven that senators were not impeachable civil officers (JA to Charles Lee, 20 June 1797, LbC, APM Reel 118; Lee, William Rawle, and William Lewis to JA, 22 June, Adams Papers).
This watercolor-on-ivory miniature portrait is by an unknown artist. Set against a sepia background, Blount wears a blue jacket with metal buttons and a white waistcoat with gold trim. The ruffled frill on his shirt front displays matching trim. His pulled-back hair is powdered ( Biog. Dir. Cong. ; William H. Masterson, William Blount, Baton Rouge, La., 1954, p. 216, 300–302, 307, 339, 341–342; Abernethy, The South in the New Nation , p. 184; Philadelphia Gazette of the United States, 6 July; Annals of Congress , 5th Cong., 1st sess., p. 440–441, 462–466; 2d sess., p. 672–673; Doris Devine Fanelli, History of the Portrait Collection, Independence National Historical Park, Phila., 2001, p. 93).
Courtesy of Independence National Historical Park.
5, 6. ABIGAIL ADAMS AND JOHN ADAMS, BY JAMES SHARPLES, CA. 1797	264[unavailable] , 265[unavailable]
Itinerant artist James Sharples captured one of the few known pairs of likenesses of Abigail and John Adams. Each measuring approximately nine-by-seven inches, the waist-length portraits depict Abigail in three-quarter view and John in profile, as was the artist’s custom when painting couples. Abigail wears an empire-waist dress with fitted sleeves and a ruffled fichu pinned at the front. A high-crowned dress cap, presumably in silk, bears a small lace brim and ribbon embellishment. The companion portrait depicts John in a light gray jacket and double-breasted waistcoat with a high collar. Although bald at the crown, he wears his hair curled at the sides and tied in a single tail at the back. The crisp, continuous outline of his profile suggests the use of a tracing device, such as a physionotrace. Sharples dabbled with mechanical inventions, and it seems likely he employed such an implement in his work. Fellow artist and acquaintance William Dunlap offered a candid assessment of Sharples’ work in History of the Rise and Progress of the Arts of Design in the United States, praising the artist’s ability to capture “strikingly like” profile portraits but contending that the full-face portraits were “never so good.”
James Sharples (ca. 1751–1811), or Sharpless as he was sometimes known, was born in Lancashire, England. He trained as an artist in Liverpool and first exhibited portraits at the Royal Academy in 1779. xii In 1793 he left England for the United States, accompanied by his third wife, Ellen Wallace, and three children. Their arrival in New York was delayed several months when their vessel was captured and detained in France. The family settled in Philadelphia, and it was likely there in 1796 or early 1797 that Sharples painted another portrait of John, which now resides in the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery in England. Sharples “was generally engaged drawing in crayons the portraits of the most distinguished Americans, foreign ministers, & other distinguished visitants from Europe.” He charged $15 for a profile portrait and $20 for a full face. In late 1797 he moved his operations to New York, working there until 1801. Overlap in the travel itineraries of Sharples and the Adamses suggests the pastel portraits printed here were initiated in 1797—either mid-year in Philadelphia or in October in New York. Sharples later returned to England, but he made a second voyage to the United States in 1809. He died in New York on 26 February 1811 from a “complaint of the heart” (David Meschutt, “A Long-Lost Portrait of John Adams and an Unknown Portrait of Abigail Adams by James Sharples,” American Art Journal, 32:77–82 [2001]; DNB ; William Dunlap, History of the Rise and Progress of the Arts of Design in the United States, ed. Alexander Wyckoff, rev. edn., 3 vols., N.Y., 1965, 2:204–207; Katharine McCook Knox, The Sharples: Their Portraits of George Washington and His Contemporaries, New Haven, 1930, p. 12–13; Bristol, England, Central Library:Ellen Sharples diary, May 1806 – Jan. 1808, 25 March 1811, in the microfilm edition Material Relating to Ellen Sharples and Her Family, East Ardsley, Eng., 2000, reel 1).
Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
7. “LE GÉNÉRAL BONAPARTE PROCLAMANT LA RÉPUBLIQUE CISALPINE À MILAN LE 9 JUILLET 1797,” BY LOUIS LAFITTE, 1813	341[unavailable]
“Buonaparte … has already become almost too great for his masters of the french Directory,” John Quincy Adams wrote to Abigail Adams on 28 December 1797 (below). The Directory hoped to keep northern Italy as a bargaining tool in its ongoing conflict with Austria, but Napoleon Bonaparte, as commander of France’s Army of Italy, pursued an alternate strategy. By encouraging existing revolutionary sentiments in a region where the French Army alone could not maintain its dominance, he facilitated the creation of a dependent state, or sister republic, which provided a stable base for French military operations as well as additional troops and funds to support his military objectives. Contrary to the Directory’s explicit orders, Napoleon proclaimed the Cisalpine Republic with a great civic festival in Milan on 9 July. Despite the revolutionary language of liberty and freedom employed on the occasion, John Quincy believed that “Buonaparte himself, who if not quite so great a General as Ceasar … has no objection to the exercise of sovereign power.” The Cisalpine Republic, a confederation of northern Italian territory that lasted until 1802, was united under a constitution modeled on the French Constitution of 1795 with the important xiii distinction that Napoleon retained the power to appoint members to both the executive council and the bicameral legislature. By the end of 1797 the incorporation of additional territory expanded the reach of the client state south from Lake Maggiore and the Adige River to Rimini on the Adriatic Sea.
This large oil on canvas by Louis Lafitte depicts Napoleon receiving the military salute in the courtyard of the Milan lazaretto after declaring the Cisalpine Republic. Lafitte (1770–1828), a painter and draftsman who had been a student of Jean Baptiste Regnault, won the Prix de Rome for painting in 1791. After studying in Rome and Florence, he established himself in Paris and regularly took part in the Salon. This painting was commissioned by the French government in 1809 and was intended for the Palais du Sénat Conservateur, now the Luxembourg Palace. Lafitte completed the painting in December 1813, however it was likely never installed (Philip Dwyer, Napoleon: The Path to Power, 1769–1799, New Haven, 2008, p. 286–287, 289; Cambridge Modern Hist. , 8:588–590, 9:86; Musées de l’Île d’Aix, Collections, Musée napoléonien, www.musees-nationaux-napoleoniens.org; Jean Tulard, ed., Dictionaire Napoléon, rev. ed., [Paris], 1989; Oxford Art Online).
Courtesy of © RMN-Grand Palais / Art Resource, New York.
8. “WHAT A BEASTLY ACTION,” 1798	381[unavailable]
On 30 January 1798 an altercation occurred on the floor of the House of Representatives between Roger Griswold (1762–1812) of Connecticut and Matthew Lyon (1749–1822) of Vermont. Writing to Cotton Tufts on 6 February (below), Abigail Adams described “the Brutal conduct of that Wild Irishman Lyon” and reported that the Philadelphia Aurora General Advertiser, 6 February, had published “the most accurate account of the proceedings.” The account was the testimony of House Speaker Jonathan Dayton, who claimed that the Democratic-Republican Lyon disparaged the Federalist Griswold by suggesting that Connecticut congressmen represented only their own interests rather than those of their constituents. Lyon said further that if he were put in charge of a Connecticut newspaper he could convince the people of the state to remove Griswold from office, citing his past success in political battles he had fought with Connecticut people who had moved to his district. Overhearing the remarks, Griswold asked if Lyon fought those battles with a wooden sword, a reference to Lyon’s having been cashiered during the Revolutionary War. Lyon then spat in Griswold’s face, and Dayton reported that the latter man “drew back as if intending to strike Mr. Lyon” but instead “took out his handkerchief and calmly wiped his face.”
In response, the House formed a Committee of Privileges and debated Lyon’s actions for fourteen days. On 12 February the House resolved to expel him, but the 52-to-44 vote lacked the necessary two-thirds majority. Abigail was shocked by the outcome and complained to Mary Smith Cranch that Lyon’s “low vulgar and base” act should have led to “the expulsion of the Beast” but was instead xiv “spun out, made the object of party, and renderd thus, the disgrace of the National legislature.” Further, Abigail believed that “something still more unpleasent” might happen. Her words were prophetic; a second confrontation occurred on 15 February when Griswold attacked Lyon with a walking stick. Lyon retaliated by hitting his adversary with fire tongs, and it took their fellow congressmen to separate the two men. A motion to expel both members was made on 16 February but was subsequently dropped (AA to Cranch, 15, 21 Feb., both below).
Several cartoons captured the sensational events, including this one by an unknown artist depicting the Vermont representative as a lion. Standing on his hind legs with paws poised to fight and a wooden sword hanging at his side, the lion tramples a document inscribed, “Ve——t Politness.” In the center, handkerchief in hand, Griswold declares, “What a Beastly Action.” On the left William Cobbett, in the guise of Peter Porcupine, claims, “My Quills shall pierce & my Press shall black You.” The reference was to a vow Cobbett made on 15 February to print in his Philadelphia Porcupine’s Gazette “once a fortnight as long as I publish it” a record of Lyon’s despicable act. It was a promise he fulfilled in spirit if not in letter; the newspaper carried the “Spitting Record” at least nine times before ceasing publication in January 1800 ( Biog. Dir. Cong. ; Annals of Congress , 5th Cong., 2d sess., p. 955–1009, 1034–1043; Aleine Austin, Matthew Lyon: “New Man” of the Democratic Revolution, 1749–1822, University Park, Penn., 1981, p. 99, 100; Philadelphia Porcupine’s Gazette, 22 March 1798, 4 April, 3, 16 May, 5 June, 14 July, 10 Sept., 3 Nov., 1 May 1799; Jefferson, Papers , 31:322).
Courtesy of the Boston Public Library.
9. “A SOLEMN HUMILIATION UNDER THE REIGN OF JOHN ADAMS,” BY BENJAMIN HENRY LATROBE, CA. 1798	471[unavailable]
On 23 March 1798, in an effort to bring unity to a nation already fractured over relations with France and about to learn the details of the XYZ Affair, President John Adams proclaimed that on 9 May “all Religious Congregations” should observe a “day of Solemn Humiliation, Fasting, and Prayer.” His choice to resurrect a New England religious practice—once reserved for afflictions like war, drought, and illness—as an occasion for national penance was a striking reinvention of the rite and marked a new use of executive power. With the country “placed in a hazardous and afflictive situation, by the unfriendly Disposition, Conduct and Demands of a foreign power,” John exhorted Americans to follow the “loud call to Repentance and Reformation” occasioned by divine judgment. Some ministers, like the Massachusetts Congregationalist Jacob Norton, heeded the president’s call and crafted sermons meant to foster political support. However, the proclamation also drew sharp criticism from the Democratic-Republican opposition. Critics felt it was too sententious, reading like a “death bed repentance.” Virginia senator congressman Richard Brent announced that he “would not fast a xv day to save John Adams from an appoplectic fit” and “would on that day rather introduce a dance.” “I know not what can excite their Wrath to such a degree,” Abigail Adams wrote to Mary Smith Cranch on 31 March, “but that they think there is yet some Religion left in the Country, and that the people will have some respect to it, & to those Rulers who acknowledge an over Ruling Providence” (below).
From the pencil and pen-and-ink sketch printed here, the architect Benjamin Henry Latrobe (1764–1820) appears to have been critical of the entire political scene. Born in England and educated in Moravian schools in Germany, Latrobe immigrated to the United States in 1795. While traveling from Philadelphia to Richmond, Virginia, Latrobe was “assailed” by news of the XYZ Affair, which he called “storms in a teapot de chambre” that ruined “honest men, who know not the tricks of the world.” His resulting caricature is an adaption of William Hogarth’s satirical print “The Sleeping Congregation.” The pulpit is inscribed with Matthew 11:28: “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Philadelphia Gazette of the United States, 27 March 1798; Cranch to AA, 29 April, and note 6, below; Philadelphia Porcupine’s Gazette, 30 March; Edward C. Carter II, ed., The Virginia Journals of Benjamin Henry Latrobe, 1795–1798, 2 vols., New Haven, 1977, 2:369; Edward C. Carter II, John C. Van Horne, and Charles E. Brownell, eds., Latrobe’s View of America, 1795–1820: Selections from the Watercolors and Sketches, New Haven, 1985, p. 136–137; Biog. Dir. Cong. ; ANB ).
Collection of the Maryland Historical Society.
10. “USS CONSTITUTION,” BY MICHELE FELICE CORNÈ, CA. 1803	479[unavailable]
“Our Frigate Constitution is at last afloat,” William Smith wrote to his cousin Abigail Adams on 8 November 1797, describing the vessel as “a most beautiful sight” (Adams Papers). After two unsuccessful launch attempts, a Boston newspaper reported that the Constitution had eased into the harbor with “steadiness, majesty and exactness” on 21 October, accompanied by “the huzzas of the citizens.” Prompted by “An Act to Provide a Naval Armament” of 27 March 1794, the 44-gun warship was among the new vessels built to reestablish the American naval force. Master shipwright Joshua Humphreys began designing the frigate in May, and contracts for construction materials went out soon after. An extant bill from Paul Revere to naval agent Henry Jackson itemized forged and cast fittings, including “Brass Coggs,” nails, braces, “a Copper Rudder chain,” and “a Bell for Frigate Weigt 242lb.” At John Adams’ request, Congress appropriated additional funds on 1 July 1797 and 21 March 1798 to complete construction and to crew the ship. Samuel Nicholson was named the Constitution’s first captain, although Cotton Tufts reported to Abigail on 30 June 1798 that it was an “unfortunate” choice as he was “very unpopular among the Sailors” (Adams Papers). The frigate was put to sail on 22 July 1798, xvi but it was not until the War of 1812 that the Constitution gained its enduring reputation for naval victories, earning the sobriquet “Old Ironsides.”
This earliest known depiction of the Constitution, dating to about 1803, was captured by the Neapolitan artist Michele Felice Cornè (1752–1845). Renowned for his work in Boston and Salem, Cornè obtained a “reputation as a painter of Ships … delineated for those who have navigated them.” His extraordinarily accurate painting of the Constitution was probably executed under the captain’s watchful eye while the warship was being refitted in Boston. Rendered in watercolor and gouache on paper, the image shows the majestic frigate cutting through the water under full sail. Both the upper deck and the masts are alive with activity, as a cannon is fired and sailors climb the rigging and trim the sails. Three additional vessels fill the midground and the horizon, their movements tracked by the Constitution’s masthead lookout. A figurehead of Hercules stands at the bow brandishing a scroll of the U.S. Constitution. At the stern a sailor hoists an American flag with the unusual configuration of fifteen stripes and seventeen stars; the vessel reportedly sailed under a flag of fifteen stars until after the War of 1812. High on the mainmast flies the commodore’s blue broad pennant, indicating the seniority of the captain and the Constitution’s designation as the squadron flagship (Boston Columbian Centinel, 25 Oct. 1797; Tyrone G. Martin, A Most Fortunate Ship: A Narrative History of Old Ironsides, rev. edn., Annapolis, Md., 1997, p. 2–5, 10, 13–17, 23, 67–68, 157; MHi:Special Coll., Loose MSS, Revere, 28 Oct. 1797; AA to JQA, 17 March 1798, and note 2, below; Oxford Art Online; The Diary of William Bentley, D. D., Pastor of the East Church, Salem, Massachusetts, 4 vols., Salem, 1905–1914, 3:68; Karl Heinz Marquardt, The 44-Gun Frigate USS Constitution: “Old Ironsides,” Annapolis, Md., 2006, p. 26; George Henry Preble, History of the Flag of the United States of America, 2d rev. edn., Boston, 1880, p. 317, 660, 662–663).
Courtesy of the Curator of the Navy. USS Constitution Museum Collection. Photo by David Bohl.
11. “THE PRESIDENTS MARCH: A NEW FEDERAL SONG,” CA. 1798	530[unavailable]
The President’s March was likely composed in 1789 by German immigrant and musician Philip Phile (d. 1793) to honor then president-elect George Washington. After its 1793 publication the melody quickly became popular with Federalists, and in the spring of 1798, amid Federalist calls for a national song to counter French patriotic anthems such as “Ça Ira” and “Le Marseillaise,” it was set to lyrics. Gilbert Fox, a singer with the New Theatre in Philadelphia, asked his friend and former classmate Joseph Hopkinson to write the lyrics. On 24 April Fox announced his intention to perform “an entire New Song (written by a Citizen of Philadelphia)” as part of the following night’s program. Abigail Adams, who “had a Great curiosity to see for myself the Effect,” attended its first performance, and she described its reception in a letter to Mary Smith xvii Cranch of 26 April: “At every Choruss the most unbounded applause ensued,” and at the conclusion the entire audience “rose gave 3 Huzzas, that you might have heard a mile” (below). The Philadelphia Gazette of the United States, 26 April, similarly extolled the performance as exceeding “any thing of the kind ever witnessed in a public place.” The song became known as “Hail Columbia,” and in its final verse it praises “the Chief who now commands”—John Adams—as “the rock on which the storm will beat.”
The sheet music reproduced here, which also included a version of “Yankee Doodle,” was printed by George Willig (1764–1851), a German immigrant who operated the successful Musical Magazine on Market Street in Philadelphia. “Hail Columbia” was considered a national anthem until officially supplanted by “The Star Spangled Banner” in 1931; today, it continues to be used as the vice president’s official anthem (John Tasker Howard, Our American Music: Three Hundred Years of It, 3d edn., N.Y., 1946, p. 118–121; Liam Riordan, “‘Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be?’: The Urban Early Republic and the Politics of Popular Song in Benjamin Carr’s Federal Overture,” Journal of the Early Republic, 31:215–217 [Summer 2011]; Philadelphia Gazette of the United States, 24, 26 April 1798; Dorothy Potter, “Music by the ‘Celebrated Mozart’: A Philadelphia Publishing Tradition, 1794–1861,” in Jeffrey H. Jackson and Stanley C. Pelkey, eds., Music and History: Bridging the Disciplines, Jackson, Miss., 2005, p. 84, 92–93; Philadelphia Directory , 1797, p. 153; Martin J. Manning and Clarence R. Wyatt, eds., Encyclopedia of Media and Propaganda in Wartime America, Santa Barbara, Calif., 2011, entry on “Hail Columbia”).
Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Music Division.

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