Surely such an appeal could not have failed of its purpose, and we can
imagine Dorothy in the pretty garments of a lover's choosing, and her
pride and pleasure in wearing them. But little coquette that she was,
she failed to properly transmit her appreciation to the man who was so
eager for it, and at that particular time her attention was entirely
taken up by other diversions, of which, had Hancock known, he would
have considered them far more important than colonial affairs.
To the Fairfield mansion, where Dolly and her aunt were staying, had
come a visitor, young Aaron Burr, a relative of Thaddeus Burr, a
brilliant and fascinating young man, whose cleverness and charming
personality made him very acceptable to the young girl, whose presence
in the house added much zest to his visit, and to whom he paid instant
and marked attention. This roused Aunt Lydia to alarm and
apprehension, for she knew Dorothy's firmness when she made up her
mind on any subject, and feared that the tide of her affection might
turn to this fascinating youth, for Dorothy made no secret of her
enjoyment of his attentions. This should not be, Aunt Lydia decided.
With determination, thinly veiled by courtesy, she walked and talked
and drove and sat with the pair, never leaving them alone together for
one moment, which strict chaperonage Dolly resented, and complained
of to a friend with as much of petulancy as she ever showed, tossing
her pretty head with an air of defiance as she told of Aunt Lydia's
foolishness, and spoke of her new friend as a "handsome young man with
a pretty property."
The more devoted young Burr became to her charming ward, the more
determined became Aunt Lydia that John Hancock should not lose what
was dearer to him than his own life. With the clever diplomacy of
which she was evidently past mistress, she managed to so mold affairs
to her liking that Aaron Burr's visit at Fairfield came to an
unexpectedly speedy end, and, although John Hancock's letters to his
aunt show no trace that he knew of a dangerous rival, yet he seems to
have suddenly decided that if he were to wed the fair Dolly it were
well to do it quickly. And evidently he was still the one enshrined in
her heart, for in the recess of Congress between August first and
September fifth, John Hancock dropped the affairs of the colony
momentarily, and journeyed to Fairfield, never again to be separated
from her who was ever his ideal of womanhood.
On the 28th day of August, 1775, Dorothy Quincy and the patriot, John
Hancock, were married, as was chronicled in the _New York Gazette_ of
September 4th:
This evening was married at the seat of Thaddeus Burr, at
Fairfield, Conn., by the Reverend Mr. Eliot, the Hon. John
Hancock, Esq., President of the Continental Congress, to
Miss Dorothy Quincy, daughter of Edmund Quincy, Esq., of
Boston. Florus informs us that "in the second Punic War when
Hannibal besieged Rome and was very near making himself
master of it, a field upon which part of his army lay, was
offered for sale, and was immediately purchased by a Roman,
in a strong assurance that the Roman valor and courage would
soon raise the siege." Equal to the conduct of that
illustrious citizen was the marriage of the Honorable John
Hancock, Esq., who, with his amiable lady, has paid as great
a compliment to American valor by marrying now while all the
colonies are as much convulsed as Rome was when Hannibal was
at her gates.
The _New York Post_ also gave a detailed account of the wedding, and
of the brilliant gathering of the "blue blood" of the aristocratic old
town as well as of the colonies. Had the ceremony taken place in the
old Quincy home, as had originally been intended, in a room which had
been specially paneled with flowers and cupids for the auspicious
event, it would doubtless have been a more homelike affair, especially
to the bride, but it would have lacked the dignified elegance to which
the stately Burr mansion lent itself so admirably.
Pretty Dorothy a bride! Mrs. John Hancock at her gallant husband's
side, receiving congratulations, with joy shining in her dark eyes,
which were lifted now and again to her husband, only to be answered by
a responsive glance of love and loyalty. They were a handsome and a
happy pair, to whom for a few hours the strife of the colonies had
become a dream--to whom, despite the turbulent struggle in which
Hancock must soon again play such a prominent part, the future looked
rose color, because now nothing but death could part them.
* * * * *
Vivacious Dorothy had not only now become Mrs. John Hancock, but she
was also called _Madam_ Hancock! Oh, the bliss of the dignified title
to its youthful owner! She read with girlish satisfaction the item in
a New York paper of September 4th, which reported, "Saturday last, the
Honorable John Hancock and his Lady arrived here, and immediately set
out for Philadelphia." With still greater pleasure a few days later
she set herself to the establishing of a home in that city which was
to be her first residence as a married woman. And well did she carry
out her design to make John Hancock a worthy comrade, for besides
accomplishing all the necessary duties of a housekeeper, she quickly
acquired the dignity and reserve needed for the wife of a man filling
such a prominent position in the colonies during the war for
Independence. There was much lavish living and extravagant elegance of
dressing, with which she was obliged to vie, even in the town where
the Quakers were so much in evidence; and meeting, as she did, many
persons of social and political importance, it was impossible for
pretty Dorothy to be as care-free and merry now as she had been in the
days when no heavy responsibilities rested on her shoulders.
So well did she fill her position as Madam Hancock that she won golden
opinions from the many distinguished men and women who came together
under Hancock's hospitable roof-tree; her husband noting with ever
increasing pride that his Dolly was more deeply and truly an American
woman in her flowering than ever he could have dreamed she would
become when he fell in love with her on that Sunday in June. And
loyally did he give to her credit for such inspiration as helped to
mold him into the man who received the greatest honors in the power of
the colonists to bestow.
With the later life of Dorothy Hancock we are not concerned; our rose
had bloomed. It matters not to us that Madam Hancock was one of the
most notable women of the Revolution, who had known and talked with
George Washington, that she and Martha Washington had actually
discussed their husbands together. To Dorothy's great pride Mrs.
Washington had spoken enthusiastically of Hancock's high position,
while at that time her husband was but a general. Then, too, pretty
Madam Hancock had known the noble Lafayette--had met in intimate
surroundings all those great and patriotic men who had devoted their
best endeavors to the establishment of a free and independent America.
All that is no concern of ours in this brief story of the girl,
Dorothy, nor is it ours to mourn with the mother over the death or
her two children, nor ours to wonder why, three years after the death
of her beloved husband, a man who had made his mark in the history of
his country, she should have married again.
Ours only it is to admire Hancock's Dolly as we see her in her girlish
beauty, as we follow her through the black days of fear and of tension
preceding the outbreak of that war in which her lover played such a
prominent part; ours to enjoy her charming manner and sparkling wit,
and to respect with deep admiring a brave girl of the Massachusetts
colony who watched a great nation in its birth-throes, and whose name
is written in history not alone as Madam Hancock, but as Dorothy
Quincy, the girl who saw the first gun fired for Independence.
An inspiration and an example for the girls of to-day, at a time when
all good Americans are united in a firm determination to make the
world safe for democracy.