The first office ever held by President John Adams was that of
Roadmaster to his native town. The young barrister, as he himself
confesses, was very indignant at being elected to a post, with the
duties of which he was unacquainted, and which he considered beneath
his pretensions. His friend, Dr. Savil, explained to him that he had
nominated him to the office to prevent his being elected constable.
"They make it a rule," said the Doctor, "to compel every man to serve
either as constable or surveyor of the highways, or to pay a fine."
"They might as well," said Mr. Adams, "have chosen any boy in school,
for I know nothing of the business; but since they have chosen me at a
venture, I will accept it in the same manner, and find out my duty as I
can."
Accordingly he went to plowing, ditching, and blowing rocks and built a
new stone bridge over a stream. He took infinite pains with his bridge,
and employed the best workmen; "but," says he, "the next spring brought
down a flood that threw my bridge all into ruins." The blame, however,
fell upon the workmen, and all the town, he tells us, agreed that he had
executed his office with "impartiality, diligence, and spirit."
Mr. Adams was an extremely passionate man. One evening, just before the
breaking out of the Revolution, while spending an evening in company
with an English gentleman, the conversation turned upon the aggressions
of the mother country. He became furious with anger. He said there was
no justice left in Britain; that he wished for war, and that the whole
Bourbon family was upon the back of Great Britain. He wished that
anything might happen to them, and, as the clergy prayed for enemies in
time of war, that "they might be brought to reason or to ruin." When he
went home he was exceedingly repentant for having lost his temper, and
wrote in his diary the following remarks:
"I cannot but reflect upon myself with severity for these rash,
inexperienced, boyish, wrong, and awkward expressions. A man who has no
better government of his tongue, no more command of his temper, is unfit
for anything but children's play, and the company of boys. A character
can never be supported, if it can be raised, without a good, a great
share of self-government. Such flights of passion, such starts
of imagination, though they may strike a few of the fiery and
inconsiderate, yet they sink a man with the wise. They expose him to
danger, as well as familiarity, contempt, and ridicule."
One of the most interesting events in the life of John Adams was his
nomination of George Washington to the command of the Revolutionary
armies. One day, in 1775, when Congress was full of anxiety concerning
the army near Boston, and yet hesitated to adopt it as their own,
fearing to take so decisive a step, John and Samuel Adams were walking
up and down the State House yard in Philadelphia before the opening of
the session, and were conversing upon the situation.
"What shall we do?" asked Samuel Adams, at length.
His kinsman said: "You know I have taken great pains to get our
colleagues to agree upon _some_ plan that we might be unanimous upon;
but you know they will pledge themselves to nothing; but I am determined
to take a step which shall compel them, and all the other members
of Congress, to declare themselves for or against _something_. I am
determined this morning to make a direct motion that Congress shall
adopt the army before Boston, and appoint Colonel Washington commander
of it."
Samuel Adams looked grave at this proposition, but said nothing.
When Congress had assembled, John Adams rose, and, in a short speech,
represented the state of the colonies, the uncertainty in the minds of
the people, the distresses of the army, the danger of its disbanding,
the difficulty of collecting another if it should disband, and the
probability that the British army would take advantage of our delays,
march out of Boston, and spread desolation as far as they could go.
He concluded by moving that Congress adopt the army at Cambridge and
appoint a general.
"Although," he continued, "this is not the proper time to nominate a
general, yet, as I have reason to believe that this is a point of the
greatest difficulty, I have no hesitation to declare that I have but one
gentleman in my mind for that important command, and that is a gentleman
from Virginia, who is among us, and is very well known to all of us; a
gentleman whose skill and experience as an officer, whose independent
fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character will command
the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial exertions of all
the colonies better than any other person in the Union."
When Mr. Adams began this speech, Colonel Washington was present; but
as soon as the orator pronounced the words "Gentleman from Virginia,"
he darted through the nearest door into the library. Mr. Samuel Adams
seconded the motion which, as we all know, was, on a future day,
unanimously carried. Mr. Adams relates that no one was so displeased
with this appointment as John Hancock, the President of Congress.
"While I was speaking," says John Adams, "on the state of the colonies,
he heard me with visible pleasure; but when I came to describe
Washington for the commander, I never remarked a more sudden and
striking change of countenance. Mortification and resentment were
expressed as forcibly as his face could exhibit them."
Hancock, in fact, who was somewhat noted as a militia officer in
Massachusetts, was vain enough to aspire to the command of the colonial
forces.
They had a fashion, during the Revolutionary war, John Adams tells
us, of turning pictures of George III. upside down in the houses of
patriots. Adams copied into his diary some lines which were written
"under one of these topsey-turvey kings":
Behold the man who had it in his power
To make a kingdom tremble and adore.
Intoxicate with folly, see his head
Placed where the meanest of his subjects tread.
Like Lucifer the giddy tyrant fell,
He lifts his heel to Heaven, but points his head to Hell.
It is evident, from more than one passage in the diary of John Adams,
that he, too, in his heart, turned against Gen. Washington during the
gloomy hours of the Revolution. At least he thought him unfit for the
command. Just before the surrender of Burgoyne, Adams wrote in his diary
the following passage:
"Gates seems to be acting the same timorous, defensive part which has
involved us in so many disasters. Oh, Heaven grant us one great soul!
One leading mind would extricate the best cause from that ruin which
seems to await it for the want of it. We have as good a cause as ever
was fought for: we have great resources; the people are well tempered;
one active, masterly capacity would bring order out of this confusion,
and save this country."
Thus it is always in war-time. When the prospect is gloomy, and when
disasters threaten to succeed disasters, there is a general distrust of
the general in command, though at that very time he may be exhibiting
greater qualities and greater talents than ever before.
John Adams tells us the reason why Thomas Jefferson, out of a committee
of five, was chosen to write the Declaration of Independence.
"Writings of his," says Mr. Adams, "were handed about, remarkable for
the peculiar felicity of expression. Though a silent member in
Congress, he was so frank, explicit and decisive upon committees and
in conversation (not even Samuel Adams was more so) that he soon seized
upon my heart; and upon this occasion I gave him my vote, and did all
in my power to procure the votes of others. I think he had one more vote
than any other, and that placed him at the head of the committee. I had
the next highest number, and that placed me the second. The committee
met, discussed the subject, and then appointed Mr. Jefferson and me to
make the draft, because we were the two first upon the list."
When this sub-committee of two had their first meeting, Jefferson
urged Mr. Adams to make the draft; whereupon the following conversation
occurred between them:
"I will not," said Mr. Adams.
"You should do it," said Jefferson.
"Oh no," repeated Adams.
"Why will you not?" asked Jefferson. "You ought to do it."
"I will not," rejoined Adams.
"Why?" again asked Jefferson.
"Reasons enough," said Adams.
"What can be your reasons?" inquired Jefferson.
"Reason first--you are a Virginian, and a Virginian ought to appear at
the head of this business. Reason second--I am obnoxious, suspected, and
unpopular. You are very much otherwise. Reason third--you can write ten
times better than I can."
"Well," said Jefferson, "if you are decided, I will do as well as I
can."
"Very well," said Mr. Adams; "when you have drawn it up, we will have a
meeting."
Thus it was that Thomas Jefferson became the author of this celebrated
document. Mr. Adams informs us that the original draft contained "a
vehement philippic against negro slavery," which Congress ordered to be
stricken out.
Mr. Adams relates an amusing story of his sleeping one night with
Doctor Franklin, when they were on their way to hold their celebrated
conference with Lord Howe on Staten Island. It was at Brunswick, in New
Jersey, where the tavern was so crowded that two of the commissioners
were put into one room, which was little larger than the bed, and which
had no chimney and but one small window. The window was open when the
two members went up to bed, which Mr. Adams seeing, and being afraid of
the night air, shut it close.
"Oh," said Doctor Franklin, "don't shut the window, we shall be
suffocated."
Mr. Adams answered that he was afraid of the evening air; to which
Doctor Franklin replied:
"The air within this chamber will soon be, and indeed is now, worse than
that without doors. Come, open the window and come to bed, and I will
convince you. I believe you are not acquainted with my theory of colds."
Mr. Adams complied with both these requests. He tells us that when
he was in bed, the Doctor began to harangue upon air, and cold, and
respiration, and perspiration, with which he was so much amused that he
soon fell asleep. It does not appear that any ill consequences followed
from their breathing during the night the pure air of heaven.