JOHN JAY,

EMINENT AMONG THOSE WHO ASSERTED THE LIBERTY

AND ESTABLISHED THE INDEPENDENCE

OF HIS COUNTRY,

WHICH HE LONG SERVED IN THE MOST

IMPORTANT OFFICES,

LEGISLATIVE, EXECUTIVE, JUDICIAL, AND DIPLOMATIC,

AND DISTINGUISHED IN THEM ALL BY HIS

ABILITY, FIRMNESS, PATRIOTISM, AND INTEGRITY,

HE WAS IN HIS LIFE, AND IN HIS DEATH,

AN EXAMPLE OF THE VIRTUES,

THE FAITH AND THE HOPES

OF A CHRISTIAN.

BORN, _Dec._ 12, 1745,

DIED, _May_ 17, 1829.

According to his expressed desire, the body of Mr. Jay was not deposited

in the family vault, but committed to the bosom of the earth. He always

strenuously protested against what he considered the heathenish attempt

to rescue the worthless relics of mortality from that dissolution, which

seems to be their natural and appropriate destination. Within the same

cemetery are also memorials to Sir James Jay, Peter Jay Munroe, Peter

Jay, Goldsborough Banyar, Harriet Van Cortlandt, and other members of

the family.

Pierre Jay, to whom the Jays of this country trace their origin, was one

of those noble and inflexible Huguenots who were driven from France by

the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, a measure which deprived that

kingdom of more than one-fourth of the most industrious and desirable

class of its population. His descendants, settling in this country,

retained the characteristics which had distinguished their forefathers,

and became among its most respectable and prosperous inhabitants. Peter

Jay, the grandson of Pierre Jay, and, like him, engaged in mercantile

pursuits, was married in the year 1728 to Mary, the daughter of Jacobus

Van Cortlandt, and was the father of ten children, of whom John was the

eighth. Seldom has a son been more fortunate in his parents. "Both

father and mother," we are told by the biographer, "were actuated by

sincere and fervent piety; both had warm hearts and cheerful tempers,

and both possessed, under varied and severe trials, a remarkable degree

of equanimity. But in other respects they differed widely. He possessed

strong and masculine sense, was a shrewd observer and accurate judge of

men, resolute, persevering and prudent, an affectionate father, a kind

master, but governing all under his control with mild but absolute sway.

She had a cultivated mind and a fine imagination. Mild and affectionate

in her temper and manners, she took delight in the duties as well as in

the pleasures of domestic life; while a cheerful resignation to the will

of Providence during many years of sickness and suffering bore witness

to the strength of her religious faith."

Under the tutelage of such a mother was John Jay educated till his

eighth year, and from her he learned the rudiments of English and Latin

grammar. Even at this tender age, the gravity of his disposition, his

discretion and his fondness for books were subjects of common remark.

When eight years old, he was committed to the care of Mr. Stoope, a

French clergyman and keeper of a grammar-school at New Rochelle, with

whom he remained for about three years. This gentleman being unfitted by

reason of his oddities and improvidence for the efficient supervision of

the establishment, left the young pupils, for the most part, to the

tender mercies of his wife, a woman of extremely penurious habits; by

whom, we are told, they were "treated with little food and much

scolding." Every thing about the house under the management of this

ill-assorted pair went to ruin, and the young student was often obliged,

in order to protect his bed from the drifting snow, to close up the

broken panes with bits of wood. Various other inconveniences fell to the

lot of young Jay, but it is probable that the rigid discipline of Mrs.

Stoope was not without its advantages. It had the effect of throwing its

subject on his own resources, and taught him to disregard those thousand

petty annoyances which, after all, are the chief causes of human misery,

and which often disturb the tranquillity of the strongest minds.

From Mr. Stoope he was transferred to a private tutor, and in his

fifteenth year entered King's, now Columbia College, at that time in its

infancy. Here, as might have been supposed, his conduct, exemplary

character and scholarship won him the esteem and respect of all. Beside

the improvement and expansion of his intellect, and the opportunity of

measuring himself with companions of the same age and the same studies,

he received other advantages from these four years of college training.

His attention being called to certain deficiencies which might impede

his future success, he at once set himself at work to remedy them. An

indistinct articulation and a faulty pronunciation of the letter L, he

was able by the constant study and practice of the rules of elocution

entirely to remove. Special attention was also paid to English

composition, by which he attained that admirable style, which in purity

and classical finish was afterwards not surpassed by that of any other

contemporary statesman, a style polished but not emasculate, and of such

flexibility as to adapt itself equally well to the vehemence of

patriotic appeal, the guarded precision of diplomatic correspondence, or

to the grave and authoritative judgments of the bench. He also adopted

Pope's plan of keeping by his bedside a table supplied with writing

materials, in order to record at the moment of its suggestion any idea

which might occur to him in waking.

During his senior year, the young student had occasion to display that

decision and firmness which at a later period shone so conspicuously in

affairs of greater moment. Certain mischief-making classmates, perhaps

to avenge themselves on the steward, undertook to break the table in the

college hall. The noise produced by this operation reaching the ears of

Dr. Cooper, the President, that arbitrary personage suddenly pounced

upon them without leaving them a chance of escape. The young men were at

once formed in a line and two questions--"Did you break the table? Do

you know who did?"--were each answered by an emphatic "No," until they

were put to Jay, the last but one in the line, who had indeed been

present at the disturbance but took no part in it; to the first question

he replied in the negative, to the second his answer was "Yes, sir," and

to the further inquiry--"Who was it?"--he promptly said, "I do not

choose to tell you, sir." The remaining student followed Jay's example.

The two young men, after resisting the expostulations of the President,

were summoned before the Faculty for trial, where Jay appeared for the

defence. To the allegation that they had been guilty of violating their

written promise, on their admission, of obedience to the college

statutes, Jay responded that they were not required by those statutes to

inform against their companions, and that therefore his refusal to do so

was not an act of disobedience. Reasonable as this defence might appear,

it, of course, failed to satisfy judges, clothed with executive powers,

and anxious to punish the least disregard of their own authority, and

the two delinquents were at once rusticated. At the termination of his

sentence Jay returned to college, where his reception by the instructors

proved that he had suffered no loss of their esteem. On the 15th of May,

1764, he was graduated with the highest collegiate honors.

On leaving college, Jay entered the office of Benjamin Kissam, in the

city of New-York, as a student at law. Between this gentleman and

himself a degree of familiarity and mutual respect existed, quite

remarkable considering their relative positions and their disparity of

years. For two years in the office of Mr. Kissam, he was the fellow

student of the celebrated grammarian, Lindley Murray, with whom he

formed an enduring friendship, and who, in a posthumous memoir of

himself, thus alludes to his companion: "His talents and virtues gave,

at that period, pleasing indications of future eminence; he was

remarkable for strong reasoning powers, comprehensive views,

indefatigable application, and uncommon firmness of mind. With these

qualifications added to a just taste in literature, and ample stores of

learning and knowledge, he was happily prepared to enter on that career

of public virtue by which he was afterward so honorably distinguished,

and made instrumental in promoting the good of his country." Murray was

a tall, handsome man, the son of Robert Murray, a venerable quaker of

New-York, the location of whose farm at the lower part of the city is

still pointed out by the antiquarian. Mr. Jay was admitted to the bar in

1768, and in the pursuit of his profession so extended his reputation

that he was soon after appointed secretary of the commission named by

the king to determine the disputed boundary between the States of

New-York and New Jersey. In 1774 he was married to Sarah, the youngest

daughter of William Livingston, an eminent supporter of the American

cause during the Revolution, and afterwards for many years governor of

New Jersey.

The limits to which we are confined allow us to take but a brief notice

of Mr. Jay's numerous and most valuable public services, extending over

a period of twenty-eight years, and terminating with his retirement in

1801 from the office of governor of his native State. In no one of the

colonies had the cause of resistance to the mother country less

encouragement than in New-York, and in no other could Great Britain

number so many influential allies, yet, on the receipt of the news of

the enforcement of the Boston Port Bill, Mr. Jay took a decided stand on

the side of the patriots. At a meeting of the citizens of New-York, May

16, 1774, we find him on a committee of fifty appointed "to correspond

with the sister colonies on all matters of moment." Young as he was, he

was required to draft the response to the proposal of the Boston

committee for a Congress of deputies from "the colonies in general." In

the first Congress in the same year, he was a member of some of the most

important committees. The "Address to the People of Great Britain," the

distinguishing act of that Congress, was drafted by Mr. Jay. This

eloquent document was pronounced by Jefferson, then ignorant of its

author, to be "the production certainly of the finest pen in America,"

and Mr. Webster considered it as standing "at the head of the

incomparable productions of that body [the first Congress], productions

which called forth the decisive commendation of Lord Chatham, in which

he pronounced them not inferior to the finest productions of the master

minds of the world."

In the interim between the close of the first, and the opening in May

1775 of the second Congress, Jay was incessantly engaged in the service

of his country; and when the delegates had reassembled, his pen was

again employed in the preparation of the two addresses to the

inhabitants of Jamaica and of Ireland. Some reluctance being shown on

the part of wealthy and influential citizens to serve in a military

capacity, he, without hesitation, sought and accepted a commission as

colonel of a regiment of the new militia; but his legislative ability

and eloquence were too highly valued to allow of his absence from

Congress, and he never actually joined his company. A second address of

Congress to the king having been treated with insult, and all hope of

accommodation being abandoned, he became one of the foremost advocates

of warlike measures; and, while on a committee for that purpose, devised

a series of plans for crippling the resources of England, which were

adopted by Congress in March 1776, nearly three months previous to the

formal act of severance in the Declaration of Independence. At the

adoption of this measure, in consequence of his election to the

Provincial Congress of New-York in April of that year, Jay was unable to

affix his signature to that instrument, but, as chairman of the

committee to whom the subject had been referred, he reported a

resolution, pledging that State to its support. Shortly after came the

most gloomy period of the revolutionary cause in New-York; a hostile

army was invading the State from the north, inspired by the defeat of

the American forces on Long Island, the city was in possession of the

enemy, and what was worse, treachery and despair existed among the

people themselves. A committee of public safety was appointed by the

Provincial Congress, clothed with dictatorial powers, of which Jay acted

as chairman. At this juncture also, Mr. Jay, by appointment, put forth

the thrilling address of the convention to their constituents, an appeal

written in the most exalted strain of patriotic eloquence, in which he

rebukes the defection and stimulates the flagging hopes of the people

with the zeal and indignant energy of an ancient prophet.

In 1777, Jay, from a committee appointed the year before, drafted a

State Constitution, which received the sanction of the legislature.

There were certain provisions which he desired to introduce in that

instrument, and which he thought more likely to be adopted when proposed

in the form of amendments than if they should be incorporated into the

first draft; but a summons to the side of his dying mother prevented the

realization of his wishes. One of the amendments which he intended to

urge, was a provision for the gradual abolition of slavery within the

limits of the State. Under the new constitution, having been appointed

to the office of Chief Justice, he was ineligible by that instrument to

any other post, except on a "special occasion," but, in consequence of a

difficulty arising between his own, and the neighboring State of

Vermont, the legislature took advantage of the exception, and elected

him delegate to Congress. Without vacating, therefore, his judicial

seat, he complied with their appointment, and soon after his entrance in

Congress became its presiding officer. The impossibility, however, of

doing full justice to both his judicial and legislative duties, induced

him to resign his seat on the bench. Congress now employed his pen in

writing the circular letter to the States, urging them to furnish

additional funds for the war. This statesmanlike exposition of the

government's financial condition closes with a noble appeal to the

national honor.

"Rouse, therefore, strive who shall do most for his country; rekindle

that flame of patriotism, which, at the mention of disgrace and slavery,

blazed throughout America and animated all her citizens. Determine to

finish the contest as you began it, honestly and gloriously. Let it

never be said that America had no sooner become independent than she

became insolvent, or that her infant glories and growing fame were

obscured and tarnished by broken contracts and violated faith, in the

very hour when all the nations of the earth were admiring and almost

adoring the splendor of her rising."

In 1779, accompanied by his wife, he sailed for Spain, as minister

plenipotentiary, in order to secure the concurrence of that kingdom in

the treaty with France, recognizing the independence of the United

States; and though his diplomatic negotiations were conducted in the

most honorable spirit, and with consummate prudence and ability, the

object of his mission was finally frustrated by the selfish policy of

the Spanish government, in requiring America to surrender the right of

navigating on the Mississippi. It was during his residence at the

Spanish court, that the desperate financial embarrassments of Congress

prompted a measure equally unjust to their representative abroad and

hazardous to the national credit. Presuming upon the success of his

mission, they had empowered their treasurer to draw on Mr. Jay bills

payable at six months, for half a million of dollars. As these bills

came in, the minister was placed in a situation of extreme perplexity,

but his regard for his country's reputation overcame all private

considerations; he adopted the patriotic but desperate expedient of

making himself personally responsible for their payment, and his

acceptances had exceeded one hundred thousand dollars before any relief

came to hand. Mr. Jay's residence in Spain also subjected him to other

trials, only less severe than the one just mentioned; the vexatious

obstacles placed in way of his negotiations by the Spanish government;

the insufficiency of his salary at the most expensive court in Europe;

the frequent removal of the court from place to place, at the royal

pleasure, involving the absence of his wife, whom, for pecuniary

reasons, he was unable to take with him; the death of his young child,

and his anxiety for the family whom he had left at home, exposed to the

dangers of war, and from whom, for more than a year, not a line had been

received, might well have harassed a less sensitive nature than his. The

fortitude with which he sustained these annoyances may be seen in a

letter written by him about this time to his friend, Egbert Benson, of

New-York. It commences thus:

"DEAR BENSON:

"When shall we again, by a cheerful fire, or under a shady tree,

recapitulate our juvenile pursuits or pleasures, or look back on the

extensive field of politics we once have trodden? Our plans of life

have, within these few years past, been strangely changed. Our country,

I hope, will be the better for the alterations. How far we individually

may be benefited is more questionable. Personal considerations, however,

must give way to public ones, and the consciousness of having done our

duty to our country and posterity, must recompense us for all the evils

we experience in their cause."

From Spain, by order of Congress, Jay proceeded to Paris to arrange, in

conjunction with Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, and Laurens, the Definitive

Treaty of Peace with England,--the most important diplomatic act of the

eighteenth century; and we have the testimony of Mr. Fitzherbert, then

the English minister resident in Paris, that "it was not only chiefly

but SOLELY through his means that the negotiations of that period

between England and the United States were brought to a successful

conclusion." Mr. Oswald had arrived in Paris with a commission, in which

the United States were mentioned under the designation of "colonies,"

but Jay, although his associates did not participate in his scruples,

refused to begin negotiations without a preliminary recognition on the

part of England of the Independence of the United States; and owing to

his firmness a new commission was obtained from the king, in which that

most essential point (as the sequel proved) was gained. Declining the

appointment now tendered him by Congress of commissioner to negotiate a

commercial treaty with England, Jay returned to his country. On arriving

at New-York he was welcomed by a most enthusiastic public reception, and

was presented by the corporation of New-York with the freedom of the

city in a gold box. The office of Secretary for foreign affairs, which,

for the want of a suitable incumbent, had been vacant for two years, was

at this time urged by Congress upon his acceptance, and he did not feel

at liberty to refuse his services. He was now virtually at the head of

public affairs. The whole foreign correspondence of the government, the

proposal of plans of treaties, instructions to ministers abroad, and the

submission of reports on all matters to which Congress might call his

attention, came within the scope of his new duties.

Mr. Jay was among the first of our statesmen to perceive the defects of

the confederation, and to urge the necessity of a new and more efficient

system of government. Besides his contributions to the Federalist, he

wrote an address to the people of New-York, then the very citadel of the

opposition to the proposed Constitution, which had no unimportant effect

in securing its adoption. In the State Convention, which had assembled

with only eleven out of fifty-seven members in its favor, Jay took a

most influential part, and mainly owing to his exertions was it finally

ratified. At the commencement of the administration of Washington, he

was invited by that great man to select his own post in the newly-formed

government. He was accordingly appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme

Court, and well did he justify, in his new capacity, the glowing

eulogium of Webster, that "when the spotless ermine of the judicial robe

fell on John Jay it touched nothing less spotless than itself." In the

performance of his duties as the first Chief Justice of the Supreme

Court, much was accomplished by him in organizing the business of the

court, expounding the principles of its decisions, and in commending

them to a confederacy of sovereign States, already sufficiently jealous

of its extensive but beneficent jurisdiction. His decision in the novel

case of a suit instituted against the State of Georgia by a citizen of

another State, is a memorable instance of his firmness and judicial

ability.

The year 1794 opened with every prospect of a disastrous war between

Great Britain and the United States. The Revolution did not terminate

without leaving in the minds of Americans a strong and perhaps an

unreasonable antipathy to the mother country, which was stimulated by

the unwise interference of Genet, the French minister, in our politics,

and by the exertions of a large class of British refugees, who had

escaped to our country still smarting under the oppressions which they

had experienced at home, and who were extremely desirous of plunging the

American government into the contest which was then raging between

France and England. There were also certain substantial grievances

universally admitted by our citizens, which would give some countenance

to such a measure on the part of America. Among these were enumerated

the detention in violation of the treaty of the posts on our western

frontier by British garrisons, thereby excluding the navigation by

Americans of the great lakes, the refusal to make compensation for the

negroes carried away during the war by the British fleet, the exclusion

and capture of American vessels carrying supplies to French ports, and

the seizure of our ships in the exercise of the pretended right of

search. These, and other outrages, were justified by Great Britain, on

the ground of certain equivalent infractions of the treaty by the

American nation. Washington however could not be induced to consent to

hazard the national interests, by transgressing that neutrality so

necessary to a young republic only just recovering from the severe

experience of a seven years' war, and he saw no other honorable means of

averting the impending danger than the appointment of a special envoy,

empowered to adjust the matters in dispute. For this purpose, on his

nomination, Mr. Jay was confirmed on the 20th of April, 1794, by the

Senate, as Minister to England, at which country he arrived in June of

that year. The treaty was signed in November following, and the

negotiations of the two ministers, Lord Grenville and Mr. Jay, were

greatly facilitated by their mutual esteem and the good understanding

existing between them; and their correspondence, which was characterized

by signal ability on both sides, affords an instance of diplomatic

straightforwardness and candor almost without a parallel in history. It

as not consistent with the plan of our sketch to speak of the provisions

of the treaty thus secured: it was not, in all respects, what Jay, or

the country desired; but in view of the immense advantages to our

commerce obtained by it, the complicated and delicate questions

adjusted, and the disasters which would have befallen the nation had it

been defeated, it will challenge comparison with any subsequent

international arrangement to which the United States have been a party.

Yet, incredible as would seem, the abuse and scurrility with which both

it and its author were loaded, discloses one of the most disgraceful

chapters in the records of political fanaticism. By an eminent member of

the opposing party, he was declared to have perpetrated "an infamous

act," an act "stamped with avarice and corruption." He himself was

termed "a damned arch-traitor," "sold to Great Britain," and the treaty

burned before his door. Enjoying the confidence of the illustrious

Washington, and of the wisest and best men of his country, in his

course, and above all, the inward assurance of his unswerving rectitude,

Jay might well forgive these ebullitions of party spleen and await the

sanction which has been conferred on his actions by the impartial voice

of posterity.

But no statesman of that time had, on the whole, less reason to complain

of popular ingratitude than Jay; before he reached his native shore, a

large majority of the people of New-York had expressed their approbation

of his conduct by electing him to the office of Governor. While in this

office, the appropriate close of his public career, besides suggesting

many useful measures in regard to education and internal improvements,

the benefits of which are experienced to this day, he had the happiness

of promoting and witnessing the passage by the Legislature of the act

for the gradual abolition of slavery in his native State. Of this

measure he was one of the earliest advocates, having served as the first

President of the Society of Manumission, which had been organized in

1786 by a number of the most respectable gentlemen in New-York, and to

whose disinterested exertions the success of the anti-slavery cause was

mainly due. On accepting the seat tendered to him in the Supreme Court,

Jay, fearing that the presidency of the society might prove an

embarrassment in the decision of some questions which might come before

him, resigned the office and was succeeded by Hamilton, who continued to

discharge its duties till the year 1793.

At the expiration of his second gubernatorial term in 1801, Jay,

contrary to the importunities of his friends, retired from public life,

having, for twenty-seven years, faithfully served his country in every

department of legislative, diplomatic, and judicial trust. Declining the

office of Chief Justice, which was again pressed by the President upon

his acceptance, he prepared to enjoy that congenial seclusion under the

shade of his patrimonial trees, which, through all the varied and

agitating scenes of political life, had been the object of his most

ardent desires. In accordance with this design, he had built a

substantial house at Bedford, about forty-four miles from New-York, on

an estate embracing some eight hundred acres, which had come to him by

inheritance. Here, in one of the most delightful localities in the

fertile county of Westchester, in the care of his family and estates, in

the society of his friends and his books, in the discharge of the duties

of neighborly benevolence, and in the preparation for those immortal

scenes which he had reason to suppose would soon open upon him, he

passed the tranquil remainder of his days. But his enjoyments were not

destined to exempt him from those bitter but universal visitations,

which, at times, overthrow the happiness and frustrate the most pleasing

anticipations of our race. In less than twelve months after his

retirement, the partner of his joys and sorrows, who, by her

accomplishments, her unobtrusive virtues and solicitous affection, had

been at once his delight and support, was taken from him. At the final

hour, Jay, as the biographer tells us, stood by the bedside "calm and

collected," and when the spirit had taken its departure, led his

children to an adjoining room, and with "a firm voice but glistening

eye" read that inspiring and wonderful chapter in which Paul has

discussed the mystery of our future resurrection.

Considering its natural advantages and its connection by railway with

the great metropolis, Bedford, the ancient half shire town of

Westchester County, can hardly be praised on the score of its

"progressive" tendencies. At the time of Jay's residence there, the

mail-coach from New-York, employing two long days in the journey,

visited the town once a week, and even now the locomotive which thunders

through it perhaps a dozen times a day, hardly disturbs its rural

quietude. It may, however, claim considerable distinction in the annals

of Indian warfare, for, within its limits, on the southern side of

Aspetong Mountain, is still pointed out the scene of a bloody conflict

between the savages and the redoubtable band of Captain Underhill, in

which the latter coming suddenly at night on a village of their foes,

slaughtered them without mercy to the number of five hundred; "the

Lord," as the record goes, "having collected the most of our enemies

there, to celebrate some festival." Bedford was formerly under the

jurisdiction of Connecticut, and the apparent thrift and independent

bearing of its farming population are decided indications of their New

England descent. Its situation is uncommonly pleasant and healthful, and

although the surface of the country is somewhat rocky and uneven, the

soil is excellently adapted for agricultural purposes. The higher

grounds display an abundant growth of all varieties of oak, elm, ash,

linden, chestnut, walnut, locust, and tulip trees, while its fertile

valleys and its sunny hillside exposures furnish ample spaces for

pasturage or cultivation. A number of beautiful streams water the

meadows, of which the two largest, the Cisco or Beaver Dam, and Cross

River, after flowing for a long distance separately, just before leaving

the town, wisely conclude to unite their forces and bear a generous

tribute to the waters of the Croton. The Beaver Dam derives its name

from having once been the favorite haunt of the beavers, who in former

times found a plentiful sustenance in the bark of the willows, maples

and birches which still linger on its banks.

The traveller who wishes to survey the mansion of "the good old

governor," as Mr. Jay is still called by those villagers who remember

his liberality and benevolent interest in their welfare, leaves the

Harlem railroad at Katona, the northwest portion of the town, so called

from the name of the Indian chief, who formerly claimed dominion of this

part of the country, and proceeds in a southeasterly direction along a

road somewhat winding and hilly, tiresome enough certainly to the

pedestrian, but occasionally relieving him with exhilarating prospects

on either side of farmhouses with well-stored and ample barns, wooded

hills with green intervales, waving fields of grain, and pastures of

well-fed, contemplative cattle, who shake their heads as if their

meditations were a little disturbed by his presence. Every thing about

the farms has the aspect of good order and thrift, and nothing mars the

general impression except the occasional sight of some happy family of

swine, who appear to exercise a sort of right of eminent domain among

the weeds and roots on the roadside. A snow-white sow with thirty

snow-white young, according to an ancient poet, was the immediate

inducement to AEneas in selecting the site of his future city; whether

such an attraction would prove equally potent in our own times, is more

questionable. As one approaches the estate of Jay, the marks of superior

taste and cultivation are apparent; the stone walls are more neatly and

compactly built, and the traveller is refreshed by the grateful shade of

the long rows of maples and elms which were planted along the road by

Jay and his descendants, some of whom still make their summer residence

in Bedford. After proceeding for two or three miles from the railroad

station, we turn up a shaded avenue on the left, which winds round the

southern slope of the hill, at the top of which stands the modest

mansion of John Jay. This is a dark brown wooden two-storied building,

facing the southwest, with an addition of one story at each end, the

main building having a front of forty-five feet, along which is extended

a porch of ample dimensions. Passing through the hall we find in the

rear a background of magnificent woods, principally oak and chestnut,

though nearer the house are a number of gigantic willows still

flourishing in the strength and verdure of youth. Concealed in the

foliage of these woods, a little to the west, is the small school-house

of stone erected by Jay for his children, and on the other side of the

mansion, towards the northeast, are the barns, carriage-house, and the

farm-house, occupied by a tenant, who has supervision of the estate.

These tenements are almost screened from view by a grove of locust

trees, for which Jay showed a special partiality, and whose snow-white

robe of blossoms in the latter part of spring affords a pleasing

contrast with the light green of the tasselled chestnuts, and the dark

and glossy shade of the oak and walnut foliage behind. In front of the

barn, on the eastern side of the house, is the garden, which, though not

making any pretension to superiority in its extent or its cultivation,

displays an excellent variety of fruits and flowers, for the most part,

such as thrive easily in that soil, and are most useful and appropriate

to the wants of an American household. Jay, though for his period

uncommonly versed in horticultural matters, did not, in his

old-fashioned simplicity, choose to waste much time in transplanting

those contumacious productions of foreign countries which "never will in

other climates grow." Ascending the hill a short distance, we come again

to the house, immediately in front of which, without obstructing the

view, stands a row of four handsome lindens. Before the dwelling, which

is nearly half a mile from the main road, stretches the green lawn

irregularly diversified with groups of trees, and beyond is seen the

sightly ridge of "Deer's Delight," once the resort of the beautiful

animal from which it takes its designation; and certainly the choice of

such a delectable locality would have done credit to creatures far more

reasonable. This spot is crowned with the elegant country-seat of Mr.

John Jay, a grandson of the Chief Justice, who, in taking advantage of

its natural beauties, and adapting it to the purposes of his residence,

has shown a degree of taste which has rarely been surpassed. On the

western slope, which is somewhat more abrupt than the others, is the

orchard, and from a thatched arbor on the brink of the descent, the eye

surveys a large part of that circle of hills in which Bedford appears to

be almost inclosed. A most enchanting rural landscape is here spread

out, embracing a wide extent of country dotted with thriving farms and

villages, graceful declivities wandered over by numerous herds of

cattle, valleys and pellucid streams, glimmering at intervals from thick

and overshadowing foliage. Further towards the west is the long line of

hills just shutting off the view of the Hudson, and overlooked by the

still loftier range of the highlands on the other side of the river,

conspicuous among which towers the Dunderberg or bread-tray mountain.

From this spot the magnificent variations of sunset are seen to great

advantage. No man endowed with the least susceptibility to the charm of

outward nature, can contemplate without enthusiasm the broad suffusion

of crimson blazing along those western hills, gradually passing into

orange and purple; and finally closing with a deep glowing brown, while

the clear brilliant sky above pales and darkens at the almost

imperceptible coming on of night.

The interior arrangements of the house have not been essentially varied

since the lifetime of its first illustrious occupant. They all bear

marks of that republican simplicity and unerring good taste which were

among his distinguishing characteristics. The furniture, though of the

best materials, was obviously chosen more for use than ornament, and is

noticeable chiefly for an air of antique respectability and comfort,

which, in spite of the perpetually changing fancies in such matters, can

never go out of fashion. On the right of the hall, as one enters, is the

dining-room, an apartment of perhaps some twenty feet square; in this

and in the parlor opposite, which has about the same dimensions, are

several interesting family portraits, the works mostly of Stewart and

Trumbull, among which are those of Egbert Benson, Judge Hobart, Peter

Jay, John Jay, and Augustus Jay, the first American ancestor of the

family, the artist of which is unknown. Passing through the parlor, we

enter the small room at the west end of the house, occupied as a

library, and containing a well-assorted but not extensive supply of

books. Here were the weighty folios of Grotius, Puffendorf, Vattel, and

other masters of the science of international law, besides a number of

standard theological and miscellaneous works, with the classic authors

of antiquity, among whom Cicero appears to have been his special

favorite. In the library hangs a portrait of Governor Livingston, the

father-in-law of Jay; a vigorous manly boy, the characteristics of whose

youthful features have been retained with singular distinctness in those

of his descendants. He is represented as dressed in the full-sleeved

coat and elaborate costume of his time, and with a sword hanging at his

side, an outfit hardly in accordance with so tender an age. The oaken

press and strong-bound chest of cherry wood are also in this room, the

latter the receptacle perhaps of Jay's important papers;--these ancient

heirlooms are presumed to have crossed the ocean more than a century and

a half ago.

Notwithstanding the infirmities of the last twenty years of his life,

Jay enjoyed an old age of remarkable tranquillity and happiness. He set

an example of undeviating punctuality; the hour and the man always came

together, and in his habits he was extremely regular. In order to assist

him in rising early, an aperture, shaped like the crescent moon, was

made in the solid oaken shutter of his apartment, by which a glimpse

might be caught of the first rays of the uprising dawn. The reading of

prayers was succeeded by breakfast, after which the greater part of the

day was commonly spent in attending to the affairs of his extensive

farm. Most of the time when thus engaged, he rode on the back of a

favorite sorrel mare, of the famous Narraganset breed, now extinct. This

faithful creature died in 1819, after a service of twenty-three years.

Two of the same stock belonging to Mr. Jay had died in succession

previously, the grandam having been given by his father in 1765. It was

probably of the latter animal that he wrote from Europe in 1783, under

the apprehension that she might have fallen into the hands of the enemy.

"If my old mare is alive, I must beg of you and my brother to take good

care of her. I mean that she should be well fed and live idle, unless my

brother Peter should choose to use her. If it should be necessary to

advance money to recover her, I am content you should do it even to the

amount of double her value."

At half-past one came the dinner hour, after which he was wont to

indulge moderately in smoking. A few of his long clay pipes are still

preserved. They were imported for him from abroad, and were considered

in their time an unusually select and valuable article. His evenings

were devoted to reading and the company of his family and neighbors.

Once or twice a year, Judge Benson, Peter Jay, Monroe, or some other old

friend, would take a journey to his hospitable home to pass a week in

living over, in conversation, their long and varied experience, and

occasionally some stranger from foreign lands, attracted by his

wide-spread reputation, would receive at his hands a cordial yet

unostentatious welcome. Though possessed of a large landed property from

which he enjoyed a respectable income, his family expenses and the

management of his estate were regulated by a judicious and liberal

economy. Remarkably affectionate in his disposition and solicitous for

the welfare of his children, his demeanor towards them was marked with

unvarying equability and decision. An extract from a letter to Mrs. Jay,

dated London, 5th Dec., 1794, illustrates his views on this head:

"I hope N---- will amuse herself sometimes with her spinning-wheel. God

only knows what may one day be her situation. Polite accomplishments

merit attention, useful knowledge should not be neglected. Let us do the

best we can with, and for our children, and commit them to the

protection and guidance of Providence."

By his servants, his poorer neighbors, and all who were in any way

dependent on him, he was reverenced and loved. He promptly and liberally

responded to all movements calculated to promote the general good. In

one instance of this kind, he showed an adroitness in his beneficence

which is somewhat amusing. The townspeople were about to erect a

school-house, and it was apprehended that from mistaken considerations

of economy, the building would be less substantial in its construction

than was desirable. When, therefore, the subscription list was presented

to Jay, he put down a liberal sum against his name "if of wood, if of

stone, _double_." Another example occurs in his dealings with his less

fortunate neighbors, evincing the union of austere and inflexible regard

for public justice with the most sensitive sympathy with individual

suffering, which is cited in Professor McVicar's appreciative and

eloquent sketch of Jay's life. The case referred to is that of "a poor

blacksmith in his neighborhood, who had encroached with his building on

the public highway, and refused to recede; Jay prosecuted him to the

extreme rigor of the law, and having duly punished the _offender_,

proceeded to make it up tenfold to the _poor man_ by deeding to him an

acre or two of ground from his own farm, in order that his necessities

might be no plea for any further breach of the law."

A pleasing reminiscence of Jay has been told by the son of the recipient

of his bounty, a poor widow, whose utmost exertions were barely

sufficient for the support of her family. Some time after the Governor's

death, she received a note from Mr. William Jay, the occupant of the old

mansion, requesting her to visit him as he had some pleasant news for

her. In great perplexity as to the nature of the promised communication,

the good woman complied, and on arriving at the house, was thus

addressed by that gentleman: "My father, before he died, requested to be

buried in the plainest manner; 'by so doing,' said he, 'there will be a

saving of about two hundred dollars which I wish you to give to some

poor widow whom you and your sister may consider most worthy, and I wish

you to get the silver money and count it out now,' and," continued Mr.

Jay, "my sister and I have selected you and here is the money." The

gratitude of the widow found no answer but in tears as she bore away the

treasure to her dwelling. The recollection of deeds like these is the

imperishable inheritance which Jay has left to his descendants, and it

is a distinction besides which mere heraldic honors fade into

insignificance, that, from the beginning to this day, the great name of

Jay has been inseparably linked with the cause of the neglected and

oppressed against the encroachments of unscrupulous power.

The personal appearance of Jay, at the age of forty-four, is thus

described by Mr. Sullivan: "He was a little less than five feet in

height, his person rather thin but well formed. His complexion was

without color, his eyes black and penetrating, his nose aquiline, and

his chin pointed. His hair came over his forehead, was tied behind and

lightly powdered. His dress black. When standing, he was a little

inclined forward, as is not uncommon with students long accustomed to

bend over a table." With the exception of the mistake as to the color of

his eyes, which were blue and not black, this is probably an accurate

picture. But it gives no idea of the blended dignity and courtesy which

were apparent in his features and his habitual bearing, to a degree,

says a venerable informant, never witnessed in any other man of that

time. His general appearance of reserve was sometimes misconstrued by

those who were little acquainted with him into haughtiness. This was

undoubtedly native, in some measure, to his character, but much, we have

reason to suppose, existed more in appearance than in reality, and was

the unavoidable expression of one long and intensely engaged in affairs

of great moment,

"Deep on whose front engraved

Deliberation sat, and public cares."

Not without a keen sense of the ludicrous, he rarely indulged in jocose

remarks; yet he is said, at times, when much importuned for certain

information or opinions which he did not care to reveal, to have shown a

peculiarly shrewd humor in his replies, which baffled without irritating

the inquirer. Perhaps a delicate piece of advice was never given in more

skilfully worded and unexceptionable phraseology than in his answer to a

confidential letter from Lord Grenville, inquiring as to the expediency

of removing Mr. Hammond, the British Minister at Washington, who, for

some reason or other, had become extremely distasteful to the government

there. As Mr. Hammond was a personal friend to Jay, the inquiry was

naturally embarrassing, but he still deemed it his duty to advise the

minister's recall. Accordingly, in his reply, after first declaring his

friendship for Mr. Hammond and his entire confidence in that gentleman's

ability and integrity, he refers to the unhappy diplomatic difficulties

of that gentleman, and concludes by saying, "Hence I cannot forbear

wishing that Mr. Hammond _had a better place_, and that a person well

adapted to the existing state of things was sent to succeed him."

As William Penn said of George Fox, Mr. Jay was "civil beyond all forms

of breeding;" the natural refinement and purity of his disposition were

expressed in his appearance and manners, and perhaps we might apply with

propriety the remainder of Penn's description:--"He was a man whom God

endowed with a clear and wonderful depth,--a discoverer of other men's

spirits and very much the master of his own. The reverence and solemnity

of his demeanor and the fewness and fulness of his words often struck

strangers with admiration." In his character, the qualities of wisdom,

decision, truthfulness, and justice held a supreme and unquestioned

sway. Under their direction, he was often led into measures which seemed

at first to hazard his own interests, as when at Paris he violated his

congressional instructions for the benefit of his country; but these

measures were adopted with such deliberation, and pursued with so

unhesitating perseverance that their results invariably justified the

course he had taken. The three most important concessions ever gained by

America from foreign countries, the concessions which now our country

most values and would be least willing to surrender, namely, the

Navigation of the Mississippi, the Participation in the British

Fisheries and the Trade with the West Indies, are due almost solely to

the foresight, the diplomatic ability and the firmness of John Jay. When

we consider the comparative insensibility of Congress at that time, and

the country at large, to the incalculable value of these rights, we may

feel assured that had America sent abroad an agent of different

character, the wily diplomatists of Europe would have found little

difficulty in wresting them from us. Jay was moreover a man of deep and

fervent piety--not that merely occasional ecstasy of devotional feeling,

which, although perfectly sincere, is compatible with an habitual

violation of all laws human and divine, but a constant sense of

responsibility to a Supreme Being for every action of his life, under

which he labored

"As ever in the Great Taskmaster's eye."

It was this combination of attributes, "inviting confidence, yet

inspiring respect," setting him apart from other men, yet drawing the

multitude after him, that accounts for the constantly recurring demands

upon his public services. The people felt that they could trust a man

whose patriotism was not a temporary passion, but a well-defined and

immovable principle, and they were never disappointed. In the complete

harmony of his moral and intellectual qualities, so wholly free from the

disturbing influence of painful and dangerous eccentricities and the

considerations of self, he approached nearer than any other statesman of

his age to the majestic character of Washington, and on no one of his

illustrious coadjutors did that great man place so uniform and so

unhesitating a reliance.

Jay had already exceeded the longest period allotted by the psalmist to

the life of man, in the enjoyment of all those satisfactions which

comfortable outward circumstances, the affection of friends and kindred,

and the honor and reverence of a country whose vast and still enlarging

prosperity were so much due to his exertions, can supply, when he

received the unmistakable premonitions of his end. On the 17th of May,

1828, having previously summoned the numerous members of the family to

his bedside, and having bestowed on each his parting advice and

benediction, he resigned his soul to the care of its Maker; and now, in

the quiet grave-yard at Rye, near the spot where he passed the early

years of his life, repose the august remains of John Jay.

=Hamilton.=

[Illustration: Ball Hughes' Statue of Hamilton]

Homes of American Statesmen; With Anecdotical, Personal, and Descriptive Sketches · 第 21 / 40 题